Title: Countdown
Author: hwshipper
Disclaimer: All characters belong to Heel and Toe Films, Shore Z Productions and Bad Hat Harry Productions in association with Universal Media Studios.
Beta: the splendidly swift and efficient triedunture
A/N: Written for houseficmeta's flashfic challenge.
Summary: House and Wilson have a close encounter at a party.
Countdown
It was New Year's Eve, and one of Wilson's fellow med students was throwing a party. Wilson was invited, naturally; House wasn't actually invited, but as she lived on the second floor of House's house she went to tell him politely it would be noisy, so he might want to be out that evening...and House said brightly that he'd be there.
A case of chronic renal failure meant House worked late that evening. By the time he got home, midnight was not far off. The building was throbbing with music, the stairways were filled with people sitting and chatting, and the doors to all three bathrooms were suspiciously jammed from the inside. The air was pleasantly smoky: he breathed in, and got an immediate mellow head rush.
He strolled into the kitchen, found a four-pack of PBR and a half-decent bottle of wine, and headed up to his room in the attic.
Wilson had beaten him there, and was lolling on the couch with a beer in his hand. "Hey."
"Hey. Wife let you off the leash?" House sat down next to Wilson, putting the drinks down on the coffee table.
"So long as I'm there to kiss her at midnight." Wilson drank beer. "She's downstairs, talking dresses with a girl who's getting married later this year. Your girlfriend still away?"
"With her folks for the holiday." House cracked open a bottle. "She was going to phone me at midnight, don't know if she will."
Wilson pondered this. "Because she said you were more interested in Infectious Diseases than in her?"
"Yeah."
"And you didn't bother to deny it."
"No." It was, after all, true.
They sat and drank and talked for a bit. There was a background of thumping bass from the building, and a mixture of music and excitable midnight countdown commentary on the radio in House's room.
After a while House found Wilson's arm resting casually along the back of the couch, and he leaned into it, and the next thing Wilson's mouth was on his and they were necking like teenagers.
"Mmph," House tried to say, but Wilson squashed the comment with his tongue, and then moved to sit so he was straddling House.
The radio announcer said in the background, "...five minutes to midnight..."
Five minutes before Wilson had to go kiss his wife and welcome in the new year. House pulled back slightly and said, breathless, "You need to find your wife."
"In a minute." Wilson crushed House's lips again, and pressed his crotch up against House's groin. House felt Wilson's cock, hard and pushing through his jeans. Then Wilson's fingers, deftly unbuttoning House's fly.
"Whoa, Jimmy," House gasped as air hit his cock. He heard the zip of a zipper, and then Wilson's cock was also out and rubbing up against his own.
"Three minutes before New Year..."
Dear God, pursuing sexual ecstasy against the clock, House had rarely been so swiftly turned on. Wilson was grasping the back of the couch, grinding his crotch up against House's. House reached down with both hands, circling their cocks together, and rolled up and down. Wilson's eyes closed and his face contorted. House was really close now.
"Two minutes to go!"
House came with a strangled gasp, sticky fluid coating both their cocks and spilling into his lap. When speech returned a few seconds later, he muttered, "You should go--"
"Not fucking like this!" Wilson grasped House's hand and placed it back over his cock. House summoned his strength and began to pump.
"One minute!"
Wilson's eyes were practically on stalks as he came over House's hand. Pausing for barely a few seconds to recover, he zipped himself up, kissed House hard on the mouth, and fell towards the door.
"Thirty seconds!"
"See you later," Wilson gasped over his shoulder, and vanished.
"Happy New Year!" House responded ridiculously, and collapsed on the couch.
"Happy New Year!" the radio announcer cried, bells pealed out, and House slid into blissful exhausted unconsciousness.
He found out much later that his girlfriend had called soon after to wish him a Happy New Year, but he'd slept right through the phone.
END