Title: Saving McGill
Author: Aquarius Seth
"House, MD" Speculative Fiction
"House, MD" is created and owned by David Shore and Fox Network. USA has the syndication rights and I am NOT making any monetary profits. Only profits I get are writing practice and preserving my sanity. Thank you very much.
Total word count for all three parts: 15,996
This spec is in response to Julie08's comment if I am ever going to let House and Wilson get together. Normally I can write a decent slash scene but this year has been murder on my writing. So here's hoping I have a thing called a plot. I'm having nightmares about writing stuff worthy of Showtime after ten or Lifetime.
I guess I should give you all a head's up: This spec contains m/f situations and some explict sex scenes are in the near future for this spec, so if you're under the age of 18-thank you for clicking, but you need to click out of here now. Let's see this one has: adult lang., adult situations, and strong sexual content.
With that in mind, please, please critique this spec. Thanks.
He knew he should have stopped drinking awhile ago but he needed to get unconscious.
It was all Wilson's fault. Wilson had raised the stakes and now this strange game of sexual innuendo had changed. He and Wilson had always teased each other mercilessly over the years. It was fun; it had started when he had been dating Stacey. It cooled off a bit while he was living with her; at least from Wilson's end. He never cared about what any of Wilson's wives thought. Hell going out with the third wheels always made him more blatant.
He thought Julie would have called him on it but she didn't while she and Wilson were married. Of course, her snide remark about Wilson having six burners nearly drove him insane. She threw him one hell of a loop his way and the bitch had done it on purpose. It was her 'I've had him you haven't' moment. He also knew she'd done it to shake him up and the bitch succeeded.
The bitch gave him the hard-on from hell for the next sixteen mornings. He had vivid dreams about Wilson screwing him senseless, even as he begged for mercy. In his dreams Wilson was determined to make him endure all six of his burners. Just thinking about the dreams made his groin twitch.
Now Cutthroat was flaunting herself in Wilson's McGills sweater. He could handle Wilson offering his ex-wives his coat or jacket in public. It was normal but Cutthroat in Wilson's sweater was obscene.
That whore did not have the right to play in their game. She thinks she's on his level? He snorted and took another sip of alcohol. She's about as subtle as bringing an elephant into Princeton. The bitch had a lot to learn.
The whole dating Wilson thing intrigued him. What was Wilson trying to accomplish? Wilson usually told him about his dates even through Wilson would do it to preserve his "privacy." It was almost a dare for him. This one was too obvious, it seemed too heavy handed, the ironed, colored shirts, the new ties; none of it was subtle. If Wilson really wanted him to back off, he would have told him.
The fact that Wilson did not argue or flush in embarrassment when he stated in public, that Wilson dating Cutthroat was like dating him tempted him to continue playing the hand. However, it would have been too much, that's why he had to leave. Had he stayed they would have been arrested for indecent behavior in public.
Even though, it would have been worth it to get Cutthroat out of the picture.
A few minutes later, he decided he needed to save Wilson's McGill's sweater. Wilson will eventually come back to him but that sweater was being vulgarly victimized. Besides Wilson's sweat stains did not deserve Cutthroat's contributions.
Ah, a goal! A reason to use the key he had made while Wilson was in the OR. Besides it will piss off Cutthroat, smiling he drowned the rest of his drink and found his keys.
He grabbed his helmet and made sure he could stand for a few moments before he got out of his apartment and on to his bike. When he finally reached her place he had managed to sober up enough to realize one glaring oversight. How was he going to justify his being there? Cutthroat was one thing, he didn't give a damn what she thought, but Wilson? Shit.
Before he could take off he realized that Wilson's Subaru was missing.
So the bitch wanted to go some where in Wilson's car? That good for nothing…. He cut off his thought and went around the next block to ditch his bike at a gas station. If they did show up his bike would be a dead give away. He hobbled back as quickly as he could to Cutthroat's.
He opened the door slightly and listened for any sounds of life. When he heard nothing he stepped inside and locked the door behind him.
He found the hall closet but the sweater wasn't there. Instead he found a baby pink suede jacket. There had to be a leaky ink pen some where!
He sighed and let the temptation go. It would lower the standards in this game and hell if he'd lower them any lower than Wilson had; he justified. He shut the door and wandered down the hall a bit.
The first room, bingo, the bedroom. The sweater had to be in there, if not it was in the laundry and the idea of going through her laundry soured his stomach. He wished for luck and opened the bedroom door further.
The bed was made and not a scrap of clothing was on the floor, those were the first things that came to his mind as he flicked on the light.
There was a beige comforter with forest green trim on a full sized bed. The pillows appeared to be new as he gritted his teeth. Where was that leaky pen when you needed one, House thought. The cherry wood nightstand was covered in a green dolly.
Yikes, if Wilson had a pair on him when this relationship ended, Wilson should be nominated for the 'man-with-the-biggest-balls' award. Just looking at how feminine everything looked made his balls ache in sympathy. The Bitch was chipping away at Wilson's masculinity with this set up.
It was just so…girlie. Even Stacey had compromised when they moved in together. She liked the pink, overstuffed flower print comforters but she slid into neutrals when they moved in together.
He shook his head to make himself focus on the task at hand, rescuing Wilson's McGill's sweater.
He opened the closet and gripped his cane a little tighter. Wilson's clothes were shoved into a third of the space. When Wilson stayed with him, he was considerate enough to take his extra shit out of the closet in the spare room.
Cutthroat Bitch could at least let him use the hall closet too. Why was Wilson putting up with her? She had better be one hell of a great lay, he thought as he shoved her shit over.
That sent up a dizzying aroma of her perfume. It was some potent scent for a woman, yet oddly fitting for her. He shook his head once more as Julie's taunting "six burners" comment came to mind.
After a few seconds he was able to find Wilson's sweater. It smelled like his cologne but her flowery scent was starting to weave itself into the fabric.
"Saved it, just in time." House mumbled and was about to walk out of the bedroom when he heard Wilson's laughter from the other side of her front door.
"Shit." He muttered under his breath as he left the switch on and hid inside the closet. There was no way he would be able to make it to the bathroom, much less out to the hallway closet. He would just have to pray they did not open the closet.
Shit, shit, shit had he not been daydreaming he would have made it out of here in time. It was one very bad move.
Now coming up with a reasonable lie. Patients were always good with Wilson, but he didn't know the names of any of Wilson's patients. He would have to make up a patient. Yeah, okay now how was he going to explain the sweater and the hiding thing?
He could always drop the sweater but the hiding? Fuck, he was screwed.
Just then he heard Wilson's footsteps and heard a moan come from Cutthroat. He heard something drop to the floor and Wilson's moan.
Oh no, not this, House thought as the bedroom lights flickered off.
He could hear Wilson's heavy uneven breathing and Cutthroat's soft whimper.
Ladies and gentlemen, he had just surpassed every level of Dante's Inferno in less than twenty seconds, he thought bitterly as he heard Wilson gasp and Amber's knowing laughter.
Don't think about it! Don't think about it, he repeated to himself as he heard the mattress squeak.
"Do you like that?" He heard Cutthroat ask as Wilson's breath hitched. Wilson moaned in response. "How about this?" He could hear the maliciousness in that question but all Wilson could do was moan.
What the hell was she doing to him, he wondered? For awhile all he could hear was Wilson's half gasps and moans and Cutthroat's evil laughter. Cursing himself, the only comfort he had was, at least she wasn't doing down on Wilson, at least not yet.
"Do you like that?" She asked again. What the hell was she doing to him?
"Yes." Wilson's voice managed to be audible by the quietness of the moment.
"Yes what?" Oh, no she didn't expect Wilson to….
"Yes mistress." Beg. It twisted his gut in a violent shocking way. She had reduced Wilson to begging in bed? He closed his eyes in humiliation for them both.
If he didn't hate her before, he really loathed her now. What made it worse, was she kept asking Wilson degrading questions and poor Wilson answered them!
He felt nauseous and really thought about puking in her shoes, if he could find them.
A part of him knew if he was in her position he'd probably do the same thing. It was one hell of a power trip and people like him, never let it escape from their grasps. But it still didn't stop him from wishing she had never come into their lives. Had he known what she was capable of, he would have sat her in rows C or D!
"Wait James, let me turn on a light." Pain burst inside his mouth as House clinched his teeth together. Wringing her neck was the only thing he wanted to do right now. He held his cane in his hands and went through the motions as he closed his eyes and imagined doing just that.
"James?" If that bitch didn't stop calling Wilson James, he was going to run her over with his motorcycle.
"What?"
"Can I do it?"
"What?" The confusion in Wilson's voice had him peeking through the small crack between the closet doors before he could help himself.
"What I mentioned earlier?" She sounded so innocent so House cast an eye around to find her most expensive shoe.
"I've never done that before. Is it safe?" Safe? What had she asked from Wilson?
"Yes, it's brand new. I'll just get the gel…." Brand new? Gel? What the hell did Wilson agree to do for her? The only thing that came to mind was…. He watched as she pulled out a small black plastic bag. In the bag was his worst fear, a vibrator.
She was going to steal Wilson's virginity. He picked up an expensive looking snake skinned, leather strap high heel and spit in it. He thought about driving the heel into her right eye.
She asked Wilson to reposition himself and he watched helplessly as Wilson did. Now Wilson was lying across the bed. House lost sight of Cutthroat and got a clear view of Wilson's face.
He watched as Wilson closed his eyes and nervously licked at his lips. Wilson was tense, his body was rigid and his hands were clinched into fists at his sides.
If he were telekinetic, he'd raise Wilson's hands and punch her squarely in the small of her back.
Wilson's breathing got heavier as he grasped in pain. House watched as Wilson stretched his hands and then clinched them again. He saw Wilson's eyes fly open and him scoot his body away from her.
"Not enough lube?" She asked as Wilson squeezed his eyes shut.
"No."
"Sorry. Let me try again." Again, was she insane?
"Maybe we should…." Wilson cried out in pain and House was able to see tears leak out from underneath his pinched eyelids.
"I've got it in Jimmy." She whispered as Wilson began to tremble. All Wilson could do was nod. "Now, how about a little more?" She asked and he heard Wilson's ragged breathing as it filled the air.
As twisted, as he knew it was House found himself getting hard. It was a complete turn on watching Wilson's face. He closed his eyes and slowly unzipped his fly. He spit in his hand and began to stroke himself.
He focused on Wilson's face and let himself imagine that he was giving Wilson the real thing. He stroked lazily as Wilson gasped. Cutthroat had her back towards him so she could keep the toy inside Wilson. From Wilson's gasps and the shifting shadows he could tell she had Wilson inside of her.
He forced himself to ignore her moans of pleasure and focused only on Wilson. When it became too much, House would let his eyes slid shut and images of Wilson on the bed sprang into his mind.
He gasped as Wilson's moans sent shivers up and down his spine. This was one of the most intense sexual experiences he actually had without having sex.
Unable to make himself come he forced his eyes to open slightly and watched Wilson, who was now biting his lip and had his face towards him with his eyes closed.
On Wilson's first gasp of release, Wilson opened his eyes as House closed his. He came in the bitch's shoe.
He let his body sag against the closet as he tried to get his breathing under control.
"I love you James." He heard her whisper. No you don't, he thought and waited for the sound of sleep breathing patterns.
"Did you lock the door Amber?"
"Hmmm…." House managed to look though the hinge slit and see Wilson wince as he sat up. He watched as Wilson took a tentative step forward and saw him wince in pain.
Despite the look of agony on Wilson's face and the blood, he looked stunning. House watched as Wilson took a steadying breath and limped across the room.
House heard the doorknob as Wilson checked the door and the water start a few minutes later. He glanced back at Cutthroat and realized she was fast asleep. He had to get out of there now. With a woman's shoe in his left hand, his helmet tucked underneath his arm, Wilson's sweater draped over his right shoulder and the apartment key in his right hand he lifted his cane off the floor and hobbled as quickly and as quietly as possible out of the apartment.
He trashed her shoe in the dumpster and slipped Wilson's sweater on before he pocketed the key and went to go pick up his bike. He needed a hot shower, bad.
To Be Continued.