TITLE: The Story of Chris
AUTHOR: hwshipper
PAIRINGS: House/Wilson established relationship, Wilson/OMCs
DISCLAIMER: All characters belong to Heel and Toe Films, Shore Z Productions and Bad Hat Harry Productions in association with Universal Media Studios.
WARNINGS: There is a high quotient of slut!Wilson in this fic. Includes much non-monogamous sexual activity across the chapters, including exhibitionism, voyeurism, and group sex with strangers.
BETA: Enormous gratitude to starlingthefool
SUMMARY: The story of Wilson's relationship with Chris, an OMC. Told from Chris's POV.
A/N: Chris was the stranger who starred in Let Me Take You To A… he just didn't have a name then.
Chris's relationship with Wilson here was also referred to in Memoirs of an Oncology Secretary chapter 3.
A/N 2: The chapter titles are all houseonmywilson Joy of Gay Sex prompts. But not always used in the way you might expect.
Chapter 1 - Open Relationships
Chris had made sure that the living room looked warm and inviting for when Wilson walked in. Soft music played in the background, and dimmed lights shone down gently onto the bottle of wine waiting to be opened on the table. The scent of the casserole in the oven wafted through from the kitchen.
He heard the sound of Wilson's car outside, right on time as expected, and went out to meet him. Wilson got out of his car, looking tired after a full week's work and an hour and a half's drive, but he smiled and said "Hey."
"The weekend starts here." Chris kissed Wilson swiftly on the lips, and led him inside.
Wilson pulled off his coat and hung it up in the hallway. "I'm disgustingly sweaty, I have to take a shower."
"Wine first," Chris said, heading into the living room. He uncorked the bottle deftly and had a glass waiting ready when Wilson followed him in.
"I've been looking forward to coming down here all week," Wilson said, looking out of the large bay windows, to the view of the beach rolling down towards the sea. The two of them sat on the white leather couch, knees brushing, and told each other how their last week had been. Ridiculously hectic, for Wilson. But as he sipped the wine and chatted, Chris watched him start to relax, begin to unwind.
Wilson finished his glass of wine, and headed off for the shower. Chris sat in the living room, contemplating the beach at dusk outside. He'd started really looking forward to Wilson's weekend arrivals over the last three months.
And then a phone rang to disturb the peace; Wilson's cell, which he'd left in his coat pocket out in the hall. Chris retrieved the phone and looked at the caller ID: House.
Chris knew better than to ignore it. He flipped the phone open and said, "Hey, House. It's Chris."
"Gimme Wilson." House sounded grumpy, but then he always did.
"He's in the shower," Chris said, raising his head and listening to the sound of running water. "House, he's only just got here. You're not going to make him turn round and drive all the way back, are you?"
"Shut the fuck up and get me Wilson."
Chris was tempted to say Fuck you, House, and turn off the phone. However, he'd tried something similar a few weeks ago and had gotten burned for it. If there was one thing he'd learned in the time he'd been going out with Wilson, it was not to get in the way of House and Wilson. Wilson wouldn't stand for it, and it only made House push all the more.
"OK, hang on." Chris headed towards the bathroom, holding the cell phone. The sound of running water increased dramatically as he opened the bathroom door and a cloud of steam wafted out. Wilson was visible through frosted glass, standing under the shower head; naked, eyes closed, hair plastered to his forehead.
Chris walked up to the cubicle and rapped on the glass; Wilson opened his eyes and looked around. Chris held up the cell phone; he didn't need to say anything.
Wilson sighed and hit the button to turn off the water. He opened the shower door and took the phone.
"House? Not a good time. I'm in the shower." Wilson listened for a minute, water running down his face and dripping off his chin, his attention focused on the phone. Chris retreated a few steps to give Wilson some privacy, but didn't leave the room. Instead, he started taking his own clothes off.
Chris gathered from Wilson's side of the conversation that House had a desperately sick patient and it might be cancer. Indeed, once all the symptoms had been talked through, Wilson agreed that it did sound like cancer. At this point Chris distinctly heard House tell Wilson to get his ass back there now.
"House," Wilson said plaintively. "I just drove for an hour and a half..."
Chris, now naked, stepped into the shower cubicle next to Wilson, and took the phone out of Wilson's hand. He said into the receiver, "It's OK, House, I'll drive him. He'll be with you in a couple of hours," snapped the phone shut, tossed it out of the shower and shut the door behind him.
He then reached around Wilson to hit the button to turn the water on again. Hot water cascaded down, drenching Chris in no time, plastering his sandy-colored hair across his head. Chris shuddered slightly as it hit him. Then he put his arms around Wilson, and pulled him close.
Wilson slid his own slippery arms around Chris's back and said quietly, "Do you mind? Driving me back, I mean."
"No. Not as long as we can do this first." Chris kissed Wilson and pressed up against him. Wilson pressed back, and Chris felt Wilson's cock moving up against his groin. Chris put his hand down and grasped it. Wilson shut his eyes and gasped, and his cock started to harden rapidly under Chris's hand.
Wilson dropped to his knees and took Chris's cock in his mouth. Chris opened his mouth in a wordless cry, hot water from the shower running down his chest and onto Wilson's bobbing head. Chris reached for the dial and ratcheted the water flow up a notch. It came cascading down, drenching Wilson's hair. Wilson tipped his head back slightly, and Chris thrust deeper inside his mouth, so deep he was surprised that Wilson could take it. He relished the sensation of water and Wilson's saliva mingling together and running over his cock, then he came with a final thrust and a groan. He heard Wilson choking slightly, and gulping a mixture of water and fluids below.
Then Wilson was on his feet again, and his mouth on Chris's, and Chris swallowed a mouthful of water mixed with his own semen, the salty taste strong in his mouth and on his lips, fuck it, before the water coming down from above washed it away. Chris reached out again for Wilson's cock, and found it alert and straining; a couple of swift rolls and Wilson came with a short sharp cry, spurting onto Chris's stomach and chest. Chris ran a hand across himself, covering his hand in the stickiness, then stuck his fingers into Wilson's mouth. Wilson licked and sucked at his fingers, and then, slowly, the water began to wash all that away too.
Chris leaned against the shower wall, breathing heavily, Wilson's head resting on his shoulder. God, there was just nothing in the world like sex with James Wilson.
A swift rub-down and hurried dinner later, they were on the way back to Princeton. On the long drive through the dark, Wilson fell asleep, and Chris hummed along to the radio and thought back to how they'd first met.
END OF CHAPTER. TBC