Disclaimer: Not mine, mores the pity.

Warnings: Mature sexual situations – if you're not of legal age for your area, please don't read.

Pairing: House/Wilson

Summary: The important thing to remember with House was that; understanding is not vital for survival. With most other things in life, the opposite was true but this was House. Sometimes it's simply better to wait out the storm and try to understand where it came from after.

AN: Okay, this is my first completed House story, I still can't quite believe I'm breaking into another area of fanfic but... Anyway, I started writing this just after one this morning and didn't stop until half four when I couldn't think how to end it. I've just finished it and not even had chance to proof read let alone find a beta. So, if you see so many mistakes it's impossible to read – please let me know, otherwise I'll be going through it in a few days.

Oh, and it's a two part semi-plot little piece. Enjoy x

Waiting Game by Duana

Chapter One

James Wilson stepped quickly out of the elevator. He wasn't having a good day and it wasn't planned to get much better.

He had been woken up early by the sound of House singing at the top of his lungs while in Wilson's bath... again. House had left the milk in the refrigerator door... again. Then House had insisted on riding that death trap of an accident waiting to happen which he called a motorcycle instead of letting Wilson drive hi in the nice, safe, warm car. Said car had then become stuck in traffic... while House drove between the stationary cars waving merrily.

He had arrived at PPTH to find a ridiculously sized puddle outside his door, making him have to clime across the seats and exit from the passenger side. He had no intention of ruining a perfectly good pair of shoes. He had lost a patient that morning, Silvia Westbrook. She was 83 with aggressive Small Cell Lung Cancer with spontaneous bouts of remission and had been terminal for 11 years, she had surprised everyone with how long she had clung to life for.

Wilson had only just finished with the paperwork involved in a patients death, perfectly timed for his lawyer to call about a meeting with Julie and her lawyer. Neither he nor his lawyer knew what Julie could possibly want, they had been divorced for 4 years.

"James!" a voice Wilson distractedly recognised as Cuddy's called to him.

He turned and smiled vaguely, trying to be polite even as he found himself unable to care or pay attention to what the hospital Dean wanted.

"I needed to talk to you about the Fund Raiser tonight. There have been a few changes and I could really use your help-" Wilson tuned out completely as Cuddy continued to talk.

He had forgotten all about the Fund Raiser, he had promised to attend a few months ago. He must have forgotten to mention it to his assistant. Which meant that not only did he have a meeting with Julie to survive but three appointments – one with a 6 year old girl about to have her first course of Chemotherapy – Charles Rhys was expected to pass away at some point that day and he had to go to the Fund Raiser.

All he wanted was for the day to be over so he could go to bed and start again tomorrow. He'd already had enough of the day and it was only lunch.

"-so you'll do it? I owe you for this." Cuddy smiled and touched his shoulder before turning and walking away, leaving Wilson wondering what he had just agreed to.

Wilson sighed in relief as he sank into the chair with a glass of champagne, careful not to wrinkle his tux.

He still had no idea what Julie had really wanted. She had handed over a pile of forms to be filled out but nothing that couldn't have been easily handled without the meeting and lawyers. She had apologised to him again for cheating on him, which he had accepted gracefully – despite the small part of him which was still surprised to have had his own game turned on him for the first time.

He had signed the forms and returned to the hospital with time to grab a cup of coffee before making his rounds. He had stayed with Charles after noting his rapidly declining stats and the lack of family. Charles had weakly cracked a few jokes and Wilson had dutifully laughed and kept up a light conversation until his patient had grown to weak to talk. Charles' sister had arrived just in time to catch his last few minutes and Wilson had quietly left the room.

He returned to his office to find his in-box several inches fuller and a dozen urgent e-mails he needed to reply to, on top of Charles' paperwork and the files of his next three patients. His appointments seemed to take longer than usual and he barely noticed what he was reading and writing most the time.

House had only burst in once – which had to be a record – to make some enigmatic comment about how he intended on using all of the offered services of something he was apparently going to buy. Wilson hadn't understood a word of it, which was nothing new. He didn't have a clue what House was up to more often than not, experience had taught him it was generally best to just wait whatever it was out and then pick up the pieces. House usually made sense eventually, generally in a convoluted and entirely too rational manner but...

Returning to the apartment to change hadn't helped his general annoyance with the day. The maid hadn't been that day which meant there were still wet towels all in his bathroom, House had left toast crumbs all over the sofa and scattered random items of clothing around as he himself must have changed for the Fund Raiser.

It was nice, though, to sit down with a glass of champagne. He had found a quieter, empty corner to hide away in. He had already been around and greeted everyone he needed to, he could hide away for at least 20 minutes before anyone would start to question where he was.

"Nervous, Jimmy?" a lightly mocking voice asked.

Wilson sighed, he just wasn't allowed 5 minutes to himself.

"Of course not." Wilson huffed with male bravado, before frowning. "Why would I be nervous?"

"I'm impressed. I was surprised you even agreed." House said with a smirk. "Perhaps you're not so straight laced after all. But then, I already knew that."

"I still don't understand what you think I would be nervous about." Wilson pointed out, hoping House might actually tell him.

"You're either seriously confident which means you must have a backer you're sure of and happy about... or you seriously have no idea what I'm on about." House announced looking genuinely surprised as he surmised his latter conclusion was correct.

"You're right. I have no idea. Now will you please just tell me?" Wilson sighed, looking up hopefully.

"Not a chance, Jimmy." House positively grinned. "This is way to much fun."

With that, House turned and walked off, leaving Wilson staring at his back and dreading whatever it was that made House look that happy. He stayed hidden away in the quiet corner for nearly half an hour before he was discovered and dragged back into the throng.

"If I could have your attention please." Cuddy's voice called over the microphone at the podium at the end of the room.

Everybody quickly found their seats and fell quiet.

"As you all know, Paediatrics are hoping to enlarge their range of Special Requirements Activities. In light of this, an auction has been proposed. One member of each department has volunteered to be auctioned for one night of your person pleasure – within the bounds of the law and each 'slaves' list of restrictions."

Wilson could feel his eyes slowly closing in despair as he listened. He already knew what was going to happen. Cuddy was going to call his name. That was what he had unknowingly agreed to and what House had been referring to. Oh shit. He must have signed the consent form as he went through his in-box and not noticed what it had been for. It was an easy mistake, he signed a dozen consent forms a day for one thing or another. This seemed like an over the top kind of punishment for such a small error, though.

He rubbed wearily at his eyes, before looking up and plastering his usual smile in place. House's gazed burned into his back, making him turn and smile sarcastically, only for House to smirk at him and raise an eyebrow.

Everything blurred together for a while as he listened to Cuddy list names, ages, interests, hobbies and restrictions before leading the auction as he waited. It was the longest wait of his life but he would have waited for as long as it took to get out of doing it. It was apparently for the kids which meant he couldn't not do it but he honestly didn't know if he could.

Did he even have a list of restrictions? What would he have to do? Would he be forced to clean or perform sexual favours? Could the other person hurt him? Would they? These were all supposed to be good, caring people. Surely he'd be fine?

"Our last lot of the evening, Dr. Wilson..." Cuddy announce.

Wilson barely managed not to bolt as he stood up. It took a supreme effort of will to force himself forward and up onto the small stage. He tried to smile as convincingly as possible as he leaned closer to Cuddy and whispered.

"You really owe me for this."

"I know." she smiled as he stood straight again. "Thank you."

Wilson tried to ignore Cuddy's speech, listening to the spiel made him feel a little too much like cattle at the market. Her last words caught his attention though.

"Since Dr Wilson has kindly offered absolutely no restrictions, we'll start the bidding at $50,000."

Wilson felt himself blanch as Cuddy announce his complete and utter lack of restrictions. Everyone else had at least a few restrictions. He hadn't thought his situation could get much worse, he was revising that statement.

He watched as the bidding grew higher, feel a strange kind of pride in how much someone was willing to pay for him. He had already doubled all of the other lots. He was surprised to see House hadn't bid once, from his comments only an hour ago Wilson had thought he intended to bid. Instead, he was stood against a side wall of the room and was silently watching everyone around him.

Not for the first time, Wilson found himself wondering what exactly happened inside his friend's head. He was sure House couldn't afford to buy him now though, the older man was going to pout over this for weeks.

His eyes nervously darted around the room, finding the three remaining people in a bidding war over him. One dropped out with a disappointed shake of her head only a few seconds before an older lady dropped out also. The remaining bidder grinned as Cuddy called out.

"Going... going..."

The man was young, late twenties. Short chocolate brown hair and an exquisitely cut suit. Wilson recognised him, he had applied to Wilson for a job last week. Wilson smiled faintly in relief, he already knew how his night of 'slavery' as going to go now. This man had already offered him out to dinner once – trying only to get himself a job, not whatever House might insinuate – and would most likely use this as an excuse to pin him down – not literally, figuratively.

Wilson gaped as he saw House suddenly lifting his bidding card.

"$3-$300,000 to Dr House." Cuddy stuttered slightly, obviously surprised at House' gesture.

Wilson could understand, he was gob smacked himself. He didn't even think House had that kind of money, hookers and Mayfield had been expensive – not to mention the pay cut he had taken to keep the fellows he wanted.

He guessed he should have realised, though. It would explain quite a few things, like how easily he had given up his job at PPTH. How easily he broke the rules without any concern for the consequences. How House had been able to bail out a complete stranger.

It was only a small part of the puzzle that was Greg House but it was a piece he had been missing until then.

It took a few seconds to realise that the young man who had been bidding had dropped out, leaving House smirking in a worrying way, Cuddy and House's team staring and Wilson wondering just what kind of hell he had let himself in for.

Perhaps he might be wrong. Perhaps House was just being a kind friend, saving his best friend from spending an entire night with a stranger. Yeah, and perhaps a hole really would open up in the ground and swallow him. It was just as likely.

Wilson refilled his glass of punch with a dejected sigh. To say he was more than a little unnerved by House was an understatement. Since that smirk, Wilson hadn't seen him once.

In reaction, Wilson had had a bit too much to drink.

It was a shame it was nearly the end. He would have to leave soon... with House. For whatever House had planned. No doubt something horribly humiliating and quite possibly dangerous. It was shame because then he would have to stop drinking, which meant there was no chance of escape via unconsciousness.

Then again... there were a couple of bottles of whiskey at the apartment.

It seemed like he only blinked before House was stood behind him, directing him to his feet and to the door. He considered trying to run away, with his friend's bum leg, he would easily win. But then House met his gaze and the almost soft mockery he reserved solely for Wilson was there, with the amused spark of challenge.

With a small shrug Wilson calmly walked out the door and to the car, House following half a step behind. He never had been able to resist a challenge from House, no matter how bad the idea was.

He frowned as House pulled his keys out of his pocket but didn't bother asking how he had got them. He had obviously picked his pocket at some point in the night. Neither did he bother complaining about House driving, he was suspiciously sober – a rare sight after an evening with a free bar.

The drive home was accompanied by a companionable – if suspicious – silence. House unlocked the doors and guided Wilson through before locking them behind him. Wilson stepped automatically through and into the kitchen/ living area.

House watched him silently as he shed his jacket and shoes, hanging his cane over the back of the sofa. Wilson poured two glasses of whiskey and put one on the side for House as he took a large sip of his own. He didn't have a clue what House was planning but he could tell it wouldn't be long in coming.

House stepped up beside him on the opposite side to his glass and reached around him to pick it up, stepping closer as he did. Wilson could feel the heat radiating off House's chest through his shirt and Wilson's own onto his arm.

House took a drink fro the glass before reaching around Wilson once more to put it back down, using the motion of his body to press his chest against Wilson and turn him face to face. Wilson lost his balance, not having expected the movement and caught his hands flat on House's chest. He gasped in surprise and looked up, just in time to catch House's lips on his own.

Tbc...