Disclaimer: All characters are owned by others, with one exception, hence why I'm doing this solely for my own amusement and not getting paid one red cent. Or any other color cent, or in the small change of any other currency, for that matter.
"House, where the hell are my pants?" Wilson demanded as he stood on the other side of the bed in his white t-shirt.
House had returned to the hotel room from the conference to find an angry, pantless Wilson. Nice enough just like that, but with that passionate a greeting – wow!
"You don't need them, you know."
"What?" Wilson had realized when he woke up that House had not only taken his pants, but also his boxers. "What did you do, House?"
"I saved your career, you moron." House threw the card key on the dresser under the flat screen TV and began loosening his tie.
Wilson had been focused more on his pants than his career, mainly because his being unclothed from the waist down and being around House was the source of some serious embarrassment, and something else he didn't want to dwell on, but that he hoped wasn't too obvious. Must focus on the career thing, he willed himself to think.
"How did you do that?" Wilson's voiced squeaked a little, but that was easily attributed to his irritation over House absconding with everything he could use to cover the lower half of his body, or so Wilson hoped. "What did you do?"
"I saw your lecture notes, Jimmy," House stated.
"I'm not even going to ask how you got into my laptop," Wilson sighed with resignation as he closed his eyes and pinched the bridge of his nose. "That was none of your business, House."
"My BFF and partner in crime tanking his career is none of my business? I don't think so."
"It wouldn't have tanked my career," Wilson insisted.
"Talking about how all doctors either look the other way when terminal patients off themselves or actually assist in the process is a career builder?" House growled. He'd dumped the tie and was proceeding to get himself out of his button down. "Don't be an idiot!"
"I was just being honest for a change," Wilson's voice was becoming both louder and more strained as he watched House undress. It was his anger at House's meddling that was making his face red. Or, at least, that was the story he would go with if House questioned him. "You're honest to the point of painful!"
"And it's done so much to boost my standing in my chosen profession," House's voice dripped sarcasm. "What the hell were you thinking?"
"You go into my laptop and deliver my speech and you ask what the hell I'm thinking?" Wilson's voice oozed incredulity and it was getting higher by the minute. That it was rising from stress is what he would have told anyone who asked. "Besides, if giving that lecture would have tanked my career, which is in much better shape than yours is, what's it going to do to your career?"
"Jimmy, I didn't know you cared," House answered sardonically as he wiped imaginary tears from under his eyes with the back of his hands. "I'm sure Phil Perlmutter's career will be just fine."
House had pulled the lanyard around his neck with the badge identifying himself as Permutter over his head and tossed it on top of the card key. "So, now that I saved your professional standing, don't I deserve a reward?"
"What, um, huh?" Wilson articulately responded as House unbuckled his belt, unzipped and unbuttoned his pants, let them fall to the ground and, grabbing a hold of a nearby chair, carefully stepped out of them. It wasn't exactly a smooth move, but, considering House's physical limitations, it was a wonder he could do it at all without falling over.
House, like Wilson, wasn't wearing any boxers.
Went commando, Wilson noted in his mind as he tried to keep from licking his lips.
House stepped on the toes of each of his socks in turn, pulling them off as he pulled out his foot. He was standing completely naked in front of Wilson.
Although House had what could best be described as a predatory look on his face, his right hand still hovered over his right thigh in an attempt to cover his scar. It was this that finally tugged at Wilson's heart.
His anger dissipated instantly, replaced with, well, what, exactly? Gratitude, sure - he'd known that speech was a dumb stunt even as he wrote and edited it. And something else.
It was something Wilson had wanted for a long time. Hell, had ached for it. Why he'd thought he could finally be happy with Amber – she was a female version of House. Thinking of Amber pulled him back a little from his lust, but it didn't fill him with that crushing pain anymore.
With the passage of time and a decent amount of therapy, he'd come to terms with the fact that he'd really been a bastard to Amber – using her as a substitute because he wanted House and thought he couldn't have him. He'd felt guilty, sure, but he knew Amber would have scoffed at that and told him to move on.
And now, looking at a naked, and yes, a partially erect House, could he have him? He'd have to put himself out there and hope House wasn't just yanking his chain. The hand on the thigh, though, that was something someone did when they felt vulnerable or exposed. And something they did when they cared that they looked as attractive as possible, or at least less unattractive.
"House are you saying we should . . . that you want to . . . ?" Wilson didn't even dare to ask.
"As long as you're done pushing me off on to Cuddy," House stated. "God, that doesn't sound even the least bit sexy."
Wilson snorted in spite of himself. "But, I thought . . . "
"What?"
"That you wanted to be with Cuddy."
"I sorta did, I guess . . . "
"Sorta?"
"You know, when I couldn't have you, I thought she'd do."
Wilson's fingers were splayed out as the tips pressed into his forehead and he closed his eyes. "We are such a couple of morons. I used Amber as a substitute for you, and you wanted Cuddy as what, a consolation prize?"
House neatly sidestepped any emotions, of course. "Well, now that we've cleared that up, what do you say we get to the hot monkey sex we've been craving for years?"
"I'm profoundly moved by your romantic gestures and declarations of true love," Wilson's sarcasm was accompanied by a wry expression and a sparkle in his eyes. A sparkle House hadn't seen for what seemed like ages.
Suddenly, the thought of logistics entered into House's mind. He'd have loved to shove Wilson face-first into the wall and ravish him, but that just wasn't possible, especially now that he had only ibuprofen to take away the no doubt screaming pain that would result.
So, House pulled back the sheets and blanket on the side of the bed opposite Wilson and sat down. He pulled his leg up with both hands and rolled his body toward the center of the bed in one (fairly) smooth motion. He pulled the blanket up to his waist, and would have admitted he was cold before he would have said the real reason - that it covered his ruined thigh.
Much to House's delight, Wilson promptly removed his undershirt and climbed in the other side. They moved to the center of the bed and began kissing. It was tentative at first as they figured out how to deal with each others' noses – who turned his head to the left and who turned his head to the right.
As they became emboldened, mouths opened and tongues caressed. At the same time each body, almost without its owner's consent, began to grind into the other. The kissing continued until they both reluctantly broke for air, even as their bodies never lost contact or friction.
"I may be a little rusty," Wilson panted softly. "It's been a while . . . "
"But, I thought you were seeing that nurse in Pedes," House questioned breathlessly as he continued to keep up the pressure.
"I was, but . . . " Wilson hesitated.
"She wouldn't put out?"
"Turns out she put out a little too much," Wilson admitted.
"You caught something?"
"Dodged a bullet," Wilson acknowledged.
"So, not that kind of 'being rusty,' " House leered.
"Is that even an accepted euphemism?"
"Also, not the other kind of 'rusty,' either." House noted.
Wilson said nothing and simply rolled his eyes.
"So, what did you mean by - " House asked.
"Just that it's been a while since . . . I . . . I . . . " Wilson's face had taken on a lovely, rosy blush.
"Since you've played on the other team," House concluded.
Wilson expected mocking, but was happily surprised.
"That's' okay, Jimmy. It's been a while for me, too."
Wilson wanted to ponder that statement, but, as things were, House hadn't stopped grinding against him. If anything, he had picked up the pace just around the time Wilson admitted he wasn't a gay virgin. And, oh my God, did it feel good. So, so, so good. Wickedly good. Wantonly good. And if Wilson didn't slow this down, he was going to come before they had the chance to do anything.
At the same time, Wilson knew if he pulled away, House would most likely feel rejected. And he would do almost anything to avoid that. So, he pulled House into a deep kiss while he eased the lower half of his body away from him a little.
Which, of course, House misinterpreted anyway. "You don't want me, uh, this?"
Wilson noted the rapid correction. Might as well nip these insecurities in the bud, "Of course I want this, and you, but if we don't slow down a little I'll never last until . . . "
House was the one to note Wilson's hesitancy this time. "Why, Jimmy, are you saying you want to go all the way with me?"
"Only since the first time I saw you." Wilson avoided any mocking from House by covering his mouth for another deep, long kiss.
When they broke for air, House said, "Let's get this show on the road."
Wilson turned away from House and reached for his suitcase on the chair next to the bed. After routing around for a couple of minutes, he produced a condom packet and a bottle of lube.
"Since we're both clean, we can skip the condoms as far as I'm concerned," House stated.
"You're sure?" Wilson questioned.
"Yes," House responded softly. "I want," there was a pause, "I want . . . to feel you inside me, Jimmy."
If Wilson hadn't been so very still, he would have never heard what House said. Under ordinary circumstances, it would have been the perfect occasion to bust on House. Of course, these were hardly ordinary circumstances. And Wilson didn't want to kill whatever tender feelings House was willing to express. The thought entered his mind that Cuddy was an idiot, choosing Lucas over having this amazing man in her bed. Oh, well, her loss . . .
Of course, his expression of deep emotion followed by Wilson's silence made House quite uncomfortable, so he decided to deflect.
"I can see why you have the rubber, Wilson," House noted. "You were hoping to find a babe doctor or pick up some decent local talent and get laid. But, why would you need the lube? Some kink you've developed for women in their eighties?"
"Now that's just gross," Wilson shuddered. "If you keep talking like that, it won't work."
"Fine," House acknowledged. "But you didn't answer my question. Why did you bring the lube? I know it's not due to your lack of skill in arousing the female of the species."
"Thanks so much," Wilson's voice was laced with sarcasm. His tone changed quickly and became more vulnerable "I thought you might end up with Cuddy and then I'd be lonely and need . . . "
"Need what?"
"A substitute for . . . " Wilson's voice trailed off.
"For?" House's voice displayed his impatience.
"You." Wilson was silent, waiting to see House's reaction.
House was genuinely surprised by this. No, shocked was a better word. How many times had Wilson needed some form of substitute for him? House understood Wilson's longing because he had a lot of experience with his own. On top of that pain was regret for lost years they could have been together. A lot of regret that also hurt like hell. More deflection time.
"Oh, Jimmy, going on the down low because you missed me," House's voice took on an exaggerated quaver, "Such an expression of pure, chaste love."
Wilson snorted. "There is nothing pure or chaste about either of us, at least not for decades."
"You say that like it's a bad thing."
"On the contrary, it gets me back to feeling horny." Wilson smiled a rather wicked smile. "So, no condoms, just lube?"
"Less talking, more action," House insisted.
"Oh, there'll be plenty of action, House," Wilson murmured as his lips found House's lips again.
It took a matter of a mere couple of minutes for Wilson to get stiff again as he applied lube to his fingers and gently worked House open. There was a brief flash of pain on House's face until he relaxed. And then there was pleasure as Wilson found his prostate. House groaned and stiffened even more.
"Jimmy, I need you," House whispered. It was about the sexiest thing Wilson had ever heard. He applied some lube to his straining cock and eased himself slowly into House.
Wilson saw another brief flash of pain that was quickly replaced by bliss as House relaxed and Wilson began hitting the older man's prostate.
As Wilson moved inside House, he began to stroke House's cock. As the pace of both his thrusting and stroking amped up, Wilson saw House's eyes roll back. Wilson smiled as House let out an honest-to-God, hold-nothing-back moan.
It took only a few more strokes before House exploded all over his belly and chest. Wilson found it so hot he couldn't hold back any longer and came deep inside House. The force of Wilson's ejaculation gave House further ecstasy which he let Wilson (and everyone in the surrounding rooms) know by another even louder moan as the back of his head pushed deeply into the pillow.
After he was finished Wilson slipped out and collapsed on top of House. House pulled up the blankets and enfolded Wilson in his arms. They drifted off to a blissful sleep.
They woke up later that evening, ordered room service for dinner and enjoyed each other again. And again in the morning.