Authour's Notes: Just a quick and dirty writing job. No spell checks, no grammar checks, no nothing. I started this at 6:40 something AM and didn't finish until now, 8:44 AM. I haven't slept. This little blurb just smacked me in the head and said write. So I did. The beginning is a little weird and the characters may seem a little out of character. I don't really know. Whatever. Read it, damn you. And lemmie know what you think. You know, if you want that is. Whatever.
House grumbled softly to himself, while sitting in his office, his blinds closed for privacy. It was actually more like he wanted it to look like he wasn't there. He was absentmindedly looking over some patient files for no reason in particular in all honesty. It was just a slow day and nothing seemed to want to be happening. 'Teenage Wasteland' pounded softly in his ears from his iPod that sat next to one of his hands upon his desk and he flipped a page continuing to read. It was just one of those days. One of those days where House didn't feel like being particularly snarky or doing much of anything, he just felt like sitting, and reading.
Huh. Weird.
Past the music in his ears, he heard the click of the door to his office and he glanced up to find Wilson making his way in. He tugged gently at the cord connected to the earpieces sitting in his ears and they popped out, spilling over onto his hand. He watched Wilson for a moment before glancing back down at his paperwork, setting aside his headphones and iPod, a small indication that showed his friend he was indeed going to listen to him, had he anything to say.
Wilson didn't say a word as he closed the door, making his way toward's House's desk, hands in his pockets, "Hey."
"Hey." House muttered, his paperwork not seeming so interesting anymore as he looked up. "I knew you couldn't stay away; my charms elude no one."
He chuckled lightly and gazed over at House with half-closed eyes. "I'm surprised to see you, well, reading anything. You don't have any cases do you?"
House leaned back in his chair, instinctively taking his cane into his hand and tapping it gently against the carpeted floor, "Nope. I guess my charm's wearing off."
Wilson smiled gently, "As if you had any to begin with."
House smirked, and they were silent once more. He had noticed Wilson had been creeping into his office at odd times of the day, at first it was a surprise each time; after that he had began expecting these more than frequent visits from him. Something was on his mind, and he did intend to find out. It apparently wasn't something Wilson had seemed to want to talk about so freely or openly just yet. Normally House would push and prod him until he spilled, but this was more interesting to watch he realized. For every day Wilson ventured into his office, his resolve broke a little more, until he knew soon, he would just spill. He was pretty much pushing and prodding with his silence, and oh boy was it fun.
Wilson noticed the pensive look House was giving him, and he shifted, a little unconfortable all of a sudden. "House..."
"What?"
"House, I'm gay." Wilson blurted, feeling shocked at himself as he watched House for a reaction.
"Oh." Damn, he had thought it would've been more interesting than a 'I'm coming out to you' moment.
Wilson reeled back slightly, his brows furrowing as he studied House, confused, "T-That's it? 'Oh'? That's all you have to say?"
"Uh, yeah.", House narrowed his eyes slightly, glancing back down at the paperwork before him; and here he thought the day was going to be interesting.
The younger doctor sputtered and then grew silent. Only for a moment. "I.. You act as if you've known!"
House shrugged, "I'm sorry?"
Wilson laughed, "Well, as long as I'm baring my soul here," and he said it with such conviction that House had to look up, "I've met someone."
"Another one? Is it your secretary this time? I think she's the only one you haven't-- "
" -- It's you." Wilson said, cutting him off, gauging his reaction carefully.
House was silent for a second before deflecting the admission with his ever so present sharp wit and flick of the tongue, " -- Or me. You haven't slept with me yet. Have you been keeping count? I want to be an odd number." House wheeled his chair out to sit beside his desk, resting momentarily before standing slowly, using his cane to heave himself up, "If I'm an even number, sleep with someone else and then come back to me."
"I'm serious." Wilson said, moving so he was standing close and in front of House.
"Right. And you just figured this out?" House said, glaring down at the man, "I'm not in the mood for this Wilson. It's almost five, I'm going home."
"I'm serious." He repeated, "I've... been thinking about this for a long time. Longer than I care to admit, honestly."
"What, care to make due on all those nights of careless innuendo?"
Wilson's eyes flashed dangerously, "Maybe."
House's lips pursed despite himself, quickly trying to hide the fact that he was all too amenable. He never even thought of Wilson that way. Well, maybe once or twice, but it was something that crossed his mind so quickly he wasn't even sure he was thinking correctly. It was a quick flash a long time ago, of them, splayed out on his bed. A quick flash of flesh ontop of flesh. And then it was gone.
Great. Now he was remembering that daydream. Now he was being forced to think of the possibility that his best and only friend liked him, more than he probably should. He was being forced to make a decision to tell him...
Tell him what exactly? Gregory House was speechless.
So he did what he always did when faced with something he couldn't handle and was backed into a corner. He attacked. "What the fuck James? Really, what the fuck is going on in that pretty little boy-wonder head of yours?"
Wilson didn't even flinch. House had called him by his first name, so he was a little angry, but...
But he had also called his head 'pretty'. That may not mean anything to anyone else, but to Wilson it showed him somthing. Showed him that maybe House didn't think it was such a bad idea either. He smirkd, "Fuck, huh? How about we settle for a blow job?"
House's eyes widened and he, much to his credit, kept his eyes from wandering down to those pink lips of Wilson's.
He didn't imagine licking them.
He didn't imagine kissing them.
And he certainly didn't imagine those lips wrapped tightly around a now rising problem.
He exhaled softly, thinking maybe he could 'play dumb' himself out. "...What?"
"Blow," Wilson said slowly, pushing House backwards into his swivel chair -- who landed with a heavy thud, his cane dropping to the floor -- before finishing his sentence slowly, "Job."
House's eyes darted quickly to his fallen cane, and then back to Wilson's face. He watched as his friend licked his lips gingerly, the flash of red against pink. "I, uh..." He closed his eyes, dear God what had he gotten himself into. When he opened his eyes again, Wilson was still there, now just several inches away from his crotch.
The younger man was on his knees before him, and the sight alone of the man on his knees was enought to make House's stomach tighten --in a good way. He suddenly became anxious as Wilson reached forward, seperating his legs, taking great care not to disturb his bad leg. He watched as Wilson's nimble fingers quickly undid his pants, zipper and all, in one swift motion. "Lift up." He said, and before House could even comprehend as to why he was complying, he used his good leg's strength to momentarily lift himself up slightly from the chair and Wilson pulled his pants and boxers around his calves.
House's eyes closed as his erection was free and Wilson's warm hand was gently stroking him. He opened his eyes when Wilson stopped, only to find the other man staring at him intently and it just made House close his eyes again. He couldn't stand it, to have those eyes burn through him. "Wilson..." It wasn't a plea, it wasn't anything. He didn't know what it was that made him say his friend's name. He just simply, did.
His friend smiled, flashing some quick teeth before gently stroking his erection again and House sighed inwardly. It did feel good, and he hand't had anything like this in a long time. Well except of course, from his own hand.
Suddenly, he heard something wet and then felt an enclosed heat around his dick. It was wet, hot, soft and it elicited a soft hiss from House as the heat moved up and down him ever so slowly. He opened his eyes and watched as a mop of brown hair bobbed up and down in his lap, his eyes almost closed again, but he found himself entranced by the moment and so he watched through half-lidded eyes. He found his hand was gripping the side of his desk, his hand burning from the fact that he had been holding on so hard. What he really wanted -- oh God -- was to be holding that head that did unspeakable things to him. So he did.
Entangling his hands with Wilson's hair, he moaned ever so softly and tilted his head back so that his neck came to a rest atop the chair he sat in. "James..." This time, he said his friend's name aloud; whispered with pure pleasure. He felt Wilson's tongue slowly lick the sides of the shaft before making it's way to the very tip, teasing him, making his hips buck ever so slightly against Wilson's lips. House felt him smile, before he engulfed him again, and House moaned, his lips parted and mouth open slightly, he raised his head again so that he could watch Wilson -- God it was sexy -- when he caught a flash of paleness in the window before him, and his eyes locked with the person standing outside.
Cameron.
Fuck -- No, not what Wilson was doing with his mouth to House, even though it was damned good -- but fuck in the fact that one of the blinds was a bit of a non-conformist. It hadn't closed with all the others. And now, now he could see Cameron watching in... amazement? Horror? Jealousy?
Who cared? Let her watch.
He was such an exhibitionist.
His breathing hitched, his eyes that were locked with Cameron's closed as he felt the all familiar sensation creeping up his spine. It only took a few more sucks before he felt himself grow rigid, his hips bucking against Wilson's face, "I'm -- oh God -- I'm gonna -- !", He was vaguely aware of his friend's hands holding his hips down as he came into his mouth with a low groan pressed out between clenched teeth. Seconds later, his body softened and went limp, his teeth and hands unclenching from Wilson's hair. He sighed softly, eyes still closed, and leaned over and on Wilson, his cheek resting against his back. He licked his own lips and closed his mouth, trying to moisten both once more; they had gotten so dry as he hadn't been able to close his mouth the entire time.
House swallowed, feeling a little high from the events that happened seconds beforehand, with his eyes still closed, and his mouth finally shucking out the cotton it had apparently was holding, he spoke. "...Cameron."
He felt Wilson's body stiffen as he extracted himself from House, who was then forced to sit up. He glared at him, his voice filled with pure venom, "Excuse me? I thought I was the one just now with my face in your lap."
House shook his head, smirking, his eyes closed, euphoric from post-coital bliss. "No," He licked his lips again, "She saw. The blinds. One of them was still open."
"Oh my God..." Wilson didn't move; he couldn't move, House's hands were resting steadily on his shoulders.
House finally decided to open his eyes to find his friend's eyes filled with sheer horror. He frowned, that look did not suit Wilson at all. "It's okay Wilson. we'll just tell her you were giving me CPR."
"CPR?!" He asked increduosly, eyeing House.
"Yeah," He glanced down at his lap, and nodded at the fact that he were no longer erect with a smile, "This guy here was down before you came in. Or I came. Whichever. You did your best in bringing him back, Doctor."
"Oh my God... House. I swear..."
"No you don't." Wilson tried to stand, but House continued to hold him steady, "Don't worry about it. Seriously. She'll get over herself."
Wilson barely nodded and then smiled a few seconds later, leaning in and placing a short kiss to House's abdomen. It made him feel all weird inside and he didn't know what to say, so he slipped his hands off his friend's shoulder's and stood himself, leaning with his good leg to pull his pants up. Wilson followed suit, dusting his knees off and watched House's movements carefully. "So..."
"Wanna come over tonight?" House said, suddenly, softly as he fumbled with the button on his pants. Christ, it was like he had never buttoned his pants before.
Wilson smiled, leaning over and gently brushing his friend's hands away and then quickly buttoning his pants, "Sure."
"Sound's good." House nodded, his gaze shifting to his cane. Wilson watched his eyes and with an expression of 'Oh!', on his face, he leaned down and picked it up for him, handing it to him. House too it greatfully, applying his weight unevenly, even once more. "Thanks."
Wilson, nodded, a small satsfied smile on his lips as he turned to walk out the door when House called him, by his first name. Confused, he turned around only to find House's lips placed against his. It was awkward. Not awkward because it was another man, but moreso because of the fact that House didn't seem to have any idea of what he was doing. He smiled against the other pair of lips and kissed him back gently and soon House fell into the same rhythm as he. It only lasted about a minute before House pulled away, clearing his throat. It was short, and it was sweet and that's all Wilson could ask for.
"I'll see you later, House." Wilson said, he left with more bounce in his step than he had coming in.
House sighed and watched him go, feeling a twang -- just a tiny one mind you -- of regret in watching him go. He walked over to his widows and opened the blinds, light suddenly flooding the room, and he smirked as he saw Cameron, Foreman, and Chase in the next room. They all looked at him, nothing on their faces that betrayed if they knew anything. All except for Cameron who looked at him with pink cheeks and pursed lips, his eyes flashed and he smirked at her; she quickly glanced away going back to doing whatever it was she was doing, as well did the others.
After making his way back to his chair, he wheeled himself back behind his desk, arms resting on his desk and he stared at the patient file before him. It finally struck him that the patient file he had been looking at, had been dead for over three years.
Huh. Weird.
It was just one of those days.