TITLE: Let Me Take You To A...
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.
A/N: Written for gethouselaid prompt 220. House/Wilson -- gay bar.
BETA: starlingthefool saved me on this one, big time.

Let Me Take You To A...

'I'm dying for a drink,' House announced, striding across the car park. The bar sat invitingly in front of them, blues music leaking faintly out of the windows.

Wilson followed, dragging his feet. 'House, we've been driving all day. And all yesterday. I really don't want to spend an evening in a smoky bar.'

'Just the one drink,' House said untruthfully, pushing the door open and walking in. 'Anyway, at least we don't have to drive anywhere afterwards. The motel's just next door.'

House headed for the bar, leaned on the counter, and took a look round the room . Wilson sat on a bar stool next to him, then seeing House's expression, swiveled his own head around to look. Then they both looked at each other with identical raised eyebrows.

The bar was full of men, and only men; men talking together, sitting together, holding hands, touching knees, arms round shoulders, arms round waists.

'Wanna split?' House said quietly.

Wilson hesitated, gazing around the bar. 'Well... we are a long way from home. It's not like we're going to bump into anyone we know.' He shrugged. 'And we haven't passed another bar in miles. Why not stay? Just for one drink.'

'Hmph.' House was amused. 'You've changed your tune. It's the hunky barman, isn't it?'

'I hadn't noticed,' Wilson protested, with a smile.

'Oh come on,' House scoffed. 'I saw you checking him out.' His blue eyes gleamed. 'So long as checking out is all you do. You're coming back to that motel room with me tonight.'


By his third drink, Wilson felt himself start to relax to the point where he thought he was starting to enjoy himself. He had to admit it was kind of liberating - but it also took some getting used to. House had spent most of the last half-hour with his hand firmly attached to Wilson's knee, and as much as Wilson liked that, he was finding showing that kind of affection in public was difficult, altering the habit of a lifetime. He suspected that House, although much less inhibited on the surface, was finding it as strange as he was and was overcompensating.

Another reason Wilson had started to enjoy himself was that for the last ten minutes, he had noticed a man standing down the end of the bar looking at him. Wilson was attuned to spotting this sort of thing, having had it most of his life from women. He steadfastedly refused to catch the man's eye, as House would be bound to notice, but covertly managed to look at the man a couple of times when he thought he could get away with it. The man was fair, clean-shaven, taller and older than Wilson, but shorter and younger than House, and wearing a leather jacket.

House's cell phone rang. He looked at the screen and cursed. 'Have to take this,' he said, and stood up. 'Might be a few minutes.' He walked off outside, flipping the phone open. Wilson heard House say, 'Yes?' just before the bar door closed behind him.

Wilson sat on his own for barely a minute before the bartender put another Jack Daniels down in front of him. 'I didn't order this,' Wilson said.

The bartender replied, 'You've got him to thank for that,' and nodded sideways. Lo and behold, it was from the man down the bar who had been looking at him.

Wilson looked at him, catching his eye this time, automatically smiling a thank-you, and that was all the encouragement the man needed to approach.

'Hi. Haven't seen you here before,' the man said, smiling warmly, taking the bar stool next to Wilson's. The stool where House had been sitting a moment before. Close up, Wilson could see the stranger had soft grey eyes. And a nice smile. And perfect teeth. His hair, already fair, had been bleached a lighter shade by the sun at the front, where it curled over towards his eyes. He was wearing a casual shirt under the leather jacket, unbuttoned at the top, and Wilson's gaze was drawn to the line of his neck vanishing down into his collar.

Wilson opened his mouth to reply and swallowed, surprised to find his mouth had filled with saliva for no apparent reason.

'No, we're just passing through,' said Wilson, feeling it was important to mention the we.

'Vacation?' The man sipped his drink, and Wilson curled his hand round his own glass without picking it up.

'Kinda. My - friend - wanted to hit the road, and took me along for the ride. Actually I'm not even sure where we're going.'

'Your boyfriend,' the man said, and Wilson felt himself get a kick out the word, but also blushed, 'sounds like a man of impulse. Romantic impulse.'

Wilson laughed, and tightened his hand round his glass. 'Impulse, maybe. He just showed up at my door and said, we're going on a road trip. Didn't say where, or how long it would take.'

The stranger saw a slight shadow pass over Wilson's face and changed the subject smoothly. 'Well, I hope you like it round here. I'm a local - I live just a ways down towards the beach.'

'You come here often?' Wilson asked, with a self-deprecating smile at the cliché.

The man smiled back. 'Couple of times a week, I get on my bike and mosey on up.'

'You ride a motorbike?' Wilson nearly said So does House, and just stopped himself. Why was it that he couldn't have a friendly conversation with a stranger without mentioning House every other sentence?

'A Harley,' the man said casually.

Wilson glanced down; as well as the jacket, the man was wearing a biker's leather trousers. They were black and sleek and tight. Wilson felt a twinge. House sometimes wore pants like that, and they never failed to get a reaction out of Wilson.

'Nice,' said Wilson. 'Not that I know anything about motorbikes,' he hastily admitted.

'So what do you know about, pretty boy?' the stranger said lightly.

Wilson laughed, a little nervously, and put his head on one side. 'I'm a doctor. Well, training to be a doctor, anyway. I've just started as a resident up at Boston.'

'Then you're a long way from home. A doctor, eh? Very worthy. So you know all about the human body, then.' The man gazed at Wilson.

'I guess I'm learning.' Wilson met the man's eyes, then dipped his own, looking down at his glass. He noticed the man's hand resting casually on the bar, just a few inches away. Wilson stared at the gap between their hands and wondered what on earth he'd do if the stranger stretched out his fingers, and touched –

A fly buzzing around the bar landed on the edge of his glass. Wilson reached out to brush it away, just as the stranger did too, and for a second or two their hands met in mid-air, the other man's fingertips brushing Wilson's knuckles.

The fly droned up towards Wilson's head, towards his face; Wilson jerked his head sideways, and the stranger reached up and flicked at Wilson's hair, which was flopping over his forehead. Wilson felt the man's fingertips just lightly brush the edge of his eyebrow, the side of his head, and then run briefly through a few strands of his hair. The fly was deftly expelled, and propelled to the other side of the bar. The man's hand ended up curled around Wilson's ear, and suddenly he seemed to be sitting a lot closer than before.

'Everyone's buzzing round you this evening,' the man said, and added with a look of amused apology, 'Like bees round a honey pot.'

It was corny. Wilson laughed out loud, and felt the man's hand move from his ear to touch his cheek. His fingertips were ever so slightly calloused. Wilson felt them graze against his face, very lightly.

Oh my God he's going to kiss me, Wilson thought, caught between panic and arousal.

Then Wilson nearly jumped out of his skin as House landed behind him.

'Wilson.' House put his chin on Wilson's shoulder and hissed in his ear. 'So good of you not to actually start fucking someone else before I got back.'

'House!' Wilson said, embarrassed.

The stranger leaned back, rested an elbow on the bar and looked amused. House glared at him, and said, 'And you can piss off.'

'House!' Wilson said again, angry this time.

The man held up his hands and looked at House. 'It's cool. I'm not trying to steal him from you.'

House didn't break his glare. The man got up and turned to walk away. As he turned, he said to House over his shoulder, 'You can't blame me for wanting to fuck him, though.'

Wilson heard this, and felt slightly dizzy. He picked up his glass and drained most of it in a gulp. House glowered at him, and placed both hands on the bar, one either side of Wilson, trapping him against the counter.

'I leave you alone for five minutes and you pick someone up. This is why we don't go to places like this. For Chrissake, it's bad enough with the women.'

'House, we were just talking,' Wilson said, annoyed, but wanting to reassure at the same time. 'That's all.'

'Bullshit. He was touching you. I saw the way you were looking at him. You were flirting with him. And he looked like he was just waiting to eat you up.'

'House,' Wilson said pacifyingly, and touched House's arm. 'It's OK. Be cool. Nothing happened. Nothing's gonna happen.'

Wilson was still perched on a bar stool; House was standing right in front of him, close. Wilson pushed a knee gently against House's inner thigh. House's expression didn't waver, but he pressed slightly back. Wilson was encouraged enough to reach out, and hooked a hand round House's head. He stroked the skin at the back of House's neck, and then ruffled the hair on the back of his head. House leant his head back into Wilson's hand. Wilson increased the pressure, pulling House towards him.

House still looked stern, but leant in for a kiss. Wilson breathed in House's warm, familiar smell as their faces came together. Wilson fastened his mouth firmly on House's and slid in his tongue. House grunted slightly, and thrust his own tongue back. Wilson grabbed House's lips between his teeth and sucked, feeling a wave of desire sweep over him.

House clearly felt the same, as he pulled back and said, 'Drink up, we're leaving.'

Wilson turned slightly to reach for the glass, and as he did so, both he and House saw that the stranger was still there, standing a few feet away.

'And I suppose you'd like to watch,' House said, in an unfriendly way.

'If that's an offer, hell yes,' the man replied.

Wilson choked slightly as he drained the glass. He felt House's body jerk slightly against him, and for the first time that evening Wilson felt House's cock harden as it pressed against his hip. Whoa.

'Not an offer,' House said, from between clenched teeth.

The man moved forward a pace. 'Think about it for a moment. I think you'd like it. Have you ever watched him suck another man's cock while you fuck him? I tell you, you'd find it the biggest turn-on.'

House flinched again, and Wilson thought incredulously, My God, he's tempted!

Wilson waited for House to tell the man to go fuck himself. But somehow that didn't happen. Instead House looked at the ground, apparently thinking, then raised his head and stared directly at the stranger.

'Ground rules,' House said shortly.

Wilson's jaw dropped. The man stepped up close to them. 'Go on.'

'Hey - ' Wilson started to say, but House cut him off and addressed the other man as if Wilson wasn't there.

'You wear a condom.'

'Done,' the man said promptly.

'And no kissing him on the mouth.'

The man blinked. 'What is this, Pretty Woman?'

House glared at him. 'I mean it. Dealbreaker.'

The man shrugged. 'Fine.'

House shrugged back. 'OK.'

'House!' Wilson said incredulous and angry. 'We need to talk.' He looked at the stranger and ever polite, despite the incongruity, asked, 'Will you excuse us for a second?'

'With pleasure,' the man said, and looked towards the barman.

Wilson stood up and stalked off down the room. House followed, and perched on a stool down at the end of the bar. Wilson stood looking at him, hands on hips, fuming.

'House, what the fuck are you playing at?'

House looked back with wide eyes. 'I'm doing what you want, aren't I?'

'What, pimping me out to some total stranger?' Wilson spluttered.

'Oh come on.' House rolled his eyes. 'You're the one who was so keen to stay in this bar in the first place. You're the one batting your eyelashes around trying to pick someone up. You think I didn't see you noticing biker boy there at the bar earlier? And you were about to kiss him when I got back just now. Basically if I hadn't been here and you'd come into this bar on your own, you'd have gone for it like a shot and you'd be outside fucking him right now.'

'Bullshit,' Wilson snapped. 'You're an ass, and you're making excuses because you're behaving like an arrogant bastard. This isn't about me, it's about you, your paranoia, and your dick. What he said turned you on, and you went for it without even asking me. Without even looking at me.'

House sighed. 'Alright, forget it. Forget it.' He threw up his hands. 'I'm going back to the motel. You can come with me, just the two of us, and we'll forget this ever happened. Or you can go riding off with biker boy into the sunset and fuck him on the beach.' He glared at Wilson. 'Just don't expect to drive on with me tomorrow if you do.'

Wilson hesitated. He didn't entertain House's last suggestion for a moment; there was no way he was leaving House to go off with the strange man. Never even the slightest doubt, just not an option, however much of an ass House was being at the moment.

But Wilson also thought about the strange man at the bar and how strongly he'd been drawn towards him. It had been a long time since he'd felt that immediate sexual attraction on meeting someone – not since he'd first met House, a few years ago now. And here he was, in a strange place, away from the usual rules and conventions, which might as well be another world, and House had actually offered him an in on it.

'No,' Wilson said.

'No, what?' House raised his eyebrows.

'We'll do it your way,' Wilson said smoothly. 'He can come back to the motel with us.' He reached forward and touched House lightly on the arm. 'Just don't assume you know what's going on in my head, OK? Next time, ask me what the hell I'm thinking.'


Wilson thought the short walk from the bar to the motel was unbelievably surreal. He moved as if in a dream, House's hand firmly resting in the small of his back, the two of them walking close and bumping shoulders just like always; but there was someone else with them, walking a couple of steps behind. And that man was going back to their motel room with them. And Wilson realized he didn't even know his name. Somehow it hadn't come up in conversation. He thought about asking, but decided perhaps it was better not to know.


'You OK with this, pretty boy?' the man asked, as he stood in the motel room and unzipped his fly.

'Yeah. It's cool,' Wilson said. It was cool. In fact, Wilson couldn't believe how calm he felt about it.

In contrast, House was clattering round the room, banging cupboard doors, picking things up and putting them down again, and generally looking everywhere except towards the bed.

The man perched on the side of the bed, took out his cock and rolled a condom on swiftly. Wilson eyed him hesitantly, not quite sure what to do first. If this was House, he'd have kissed him on the mouth; but it wasn't, and that was off the menu anyway. House rules.

Wilson reached down and took the man's cock in his hand instead; the man immediately sucked in his breath. Deciding he couldn't stay standing or he would end up kissing, Wilson dropped to his knees and guided the man's cock towards his mouth. He started to lap at the head. The man put his hand on Wilson's head, muttering furiously, 'Such a pretty face. Such a pretty mouth.'

Wilson took a deep breath and took as much of the man's cock in his mouth as he possibly could. The man groaned and thrust; and then Wilson heard a strangled inaudible sound from the other side of the room, followed by the thump of House's footsteps striding swiftly across the floor. Oh God he's gone apeshit, Wilson thought, and expected to feel House's hands pulling him up, dragging him away.

Instead he felt House suddenly behind him, his hands on Wilson's hips, and his voice in Wilson's ear, 'You're such a fucking slut, Wilson, you're loving this - ' and then his hands moved forward to find Wilson's belt buckle. Wilson struggled to carry on sucking off the other man, while House undid Wilson's jeans and pushed them down his thighs.

'Told you this would be a turn-on,' the man above panted.

'Shut the fuck up,' House snapped. Wilson heard the rustling sound of House unbuttoning his own jeans, then the click of a lid coming off a tube, then a minute later he felt House's cock - hard, slick, and Oh God so much more familiar than the strange one bearing down in his mouth - pressing against his ass.

House rubbed his cock against the crack of Wilson's ass, harder with each stroke, while also stretching a hand around to grasp Wilson's cock. Wilson trembled at House's touch, House's palm snug around him, so intimate, so knowing. House moved his hand, and Wilson flinched as House's fingers probed his ass, initially raw and slippery; then warmer, then stimulating and sensuous; Wilson rolled his head around and the stranger above him made a muffled sound.

Wilson felt the man above bracing himself against the bed, then House thrust deep inside him. Wilson's whole body jerked convulsively and he momentarily lost the rhythm with the other man, who let out a yelp. Wilson groped blindly to find him, and the man moved into his mouth again just as House thrust again from behind. This time, Wilson took it much more easily, catching House's motion, and managed to match it with the competing pulse from the stranger in his mouth. Wilson could barely keep up with the different sensations from all sides; the throb of House's cock, deep in his ass, and the bucking movement from the stranger above; and himself in the middle, somehow experiencing what both of them were feeling, and more -

The stranger came first, House a few seconds behind, and then House reached round and took Wilson's own cock in his hand. Just the slightest grip from House's fingers was enough to take Wilson over the edge too.


After a minute, Wilson crawled up onto the bed and fell like a stone onto his stomach. House clambered up beside him, and sat leaning against the headboard. The other man got up and went straight to the bathroom, for which House was silently grateful.

House looked down at Wilson, and seeing him lying very still was momentarily alarmed, but then he saw that Wilson had simply fallen asleep. Wryly amused, House reached for a handkerchief, cleaned himself up and buttoned up his jeans; somehow it seemed important to look at least vaguely decent for when the stranger reappeared. House looked down at Wilson, who still had his own jeans half way down his legs; it seemed like too much effort to do anything about that, at least while Wilson was asleep. House tried to pull the bedcovers up over him, but only got them part way before finding Wilson was lying right on top of most of them.

The man returned from the bathroom, fully dressed and looking pretty much as he had done when he walked in the room. He picked up his jacket from a chair. For a second, House thought the man was simply going to leave, which would have been a relief, but instead he reached into the inside pocket and pulled out a packet of cigarettes. He flipped it open and offered it to House. House took a cigarette with barely a hesitation, accepted a light, and drew deeply on the cigarette. House rarely smoked – Wilson didn't like it - but this definitely seemed to be a situation meriting it.

The man sat down and lit his own cigarette, and House noted with approval that he had the sense to keep his distance, sitting in an armchair next to the bed, rather than on the bed. House held the cigarette in his right hand, and absent-mindedly stroked the sleeping Wilson's head with his left.

'You two are cute together,' the man remarked.

House reluctantly decided that the cigarette acceptance meant he shouldn't chuck this guy out just yet. He grimaced and said, 'Spare me the cute. I'll take hot.'

'That too,' the man agreed, and breathed out a lungful of smoke. 'He said you were on a road trip? And he didn't know where you were going.'

'He's got a big mouth,' House said shortly, only realizing the double entendre as he spoke. The man smirked and House couldn't help but smirk too.

House continued, 'I had to get away for a few days.' He tapped ash onto the bedside table, and added by way of explanation, 'I'm a screwed up fucker. He didn't have to come with me.'

'He tries to look after you,' the man said perceptively.

House snorted. 'He needs to be needed. Don't be fooled by his angelic looks. He's just as screwed up as I am.' He looked down at Wilson, who couldn't have looked more peaceful, and ruffled his hair. 'He's married, for a start.'

The man digested this, then chuckled. 'Go figure.' He dragged on his cigarette. 'I'm glad I met you guys.'

House didn't think this warranted a reply. They sat in silence for a couple of minutes. House watched the man in the armchair puff on his cigarette and gaze at Wilson. Gaze at Wilson's ass, to be precise; it was just visible through the bed covers. The man shifted slightly in his seat, and House's gaze switched to the crotch of the tight black leather pants. It looked uncannily like the stranger was getting hard again.

'You look like you could go all over again. What are you, fourteen?' House demanded.

'Just a horny bastard.' The man stubbed his cigarette out. 'Specially when I'm looking right at an ass like that.'

A tinny ring tone filled the room; the man groped in his jacket pocket for his cell phone. House glared at him. The man flipped open the cell, stood up and started walking towards the bathroom. 'Hello? Yeah – no, just I'm having a quiet evening…'

His voice faded out as he shut the bathroom door behind him. House stubbed out his own cigarette and looked down at Wilson, who had stirred at the sound of the phone.

House recalled the sight of Wilson sucking the man's cock a few minutes before, and how utterly erotic he'd found it. He tried to picture the sight of the man with his cock up Wilson's ass. Actually that was pretty damn hot as well. To his amazement House found himself getting hard at the thought. Maybe this evening wasn't over yet.

House scooted down the bed and spoke into Wilson's ear. 'Wilson.'

Wilson's eyes opened and he peered hazily at House. 'House.' His eyes focused as he woke up. 'Hey.' He moved his head to look for the stranger and not seeing him, looked back at House.

House mimicked holding a phone in his hand and nodded towards the bathroom.

Wilson nodded back, and asked, ' So - what's happening?'

'Well, I guess that's up to you,' House said carefully. 'We can bid our new friend goodbye and you can go right back to sleep.' He paused, then added, 'But if you'd like, he's still got the horn, and is obviously only too willing to fuck you.'

Wilson frowned, absorbing this information. 'Right.'

'Your choice. I don't mind,' House added nonchalantly. 'So long as I get a ringside seat.'

Wilson snorted, amused and disbelieving. 'You've got to be kidding me.'

House shrugged. Better that it happens this way, when I'm here, when I can watch, when I can control what the hell happens.

The man emerged from the bathroom, flipping his phone shut. House watched Wilson looking at the man, at those soft grey eyes, at the muscles in his arm, at that bulge in his pants. He could see Wilson going through a similar thought process to the one House had just gone through; that could be hot.

Wilson looked at House. 'All right. And thanks for checking with me this time.'

The man looked at them both, not sure what was going on. House jumped straight in, saying gruffly, 'If you're wanting to get rid of that hard-on, you can stay here and fuck Wilson. I get to watch. Same ground rules as before.'

'Sure,' the man said instantly.

'I mean it,' House growled. 'Kiss him on the mouth and I'll kick you into the middle of next week.'

'I get it.' The man looked at Wilson searchingly for a moment, then came and sat on the edge of the bed. Wilson sat up, said, 'Give me a sec,' stood up and padded off to the bathroom.

House went and sat in the armchair. He picked up the other man's jacket from the back of the chair, felt in the inside pocket, and found the packet of cigarettes. He took one out and put the packet down on the bedside table. The man raised his eyebrows but didn't say anything.

Wilson emerged from the bathroom looking slightly less disheveled than before. He had shed his jeans now and was wearing his T-shirt and boxer shorts. House stared at him, rolling the unlit cigarette between his fingers, and felt his erection grow. Wilson was just far too goddamn attractive when slightly nervous and a trifle self-conscious. And with mussed up hair that he'd clearly just slicked back with a wet hand.

The other man rose to his feet and walked swiftly over to Wilson. For a second rage flared suddenly inside House as he really, truly thought the man was going to kiss Wilson on the mouth. But instead the stranger walked behind Wilson and put his arms around his chest. House relaxed slightly, and watched as the man ran his hands up and down Wilson's body. Wilson closed his eyes and leaned in as the man put his hands down Wilson's boxer shorts and grasped his ass.

The man put his face against the back of Wilson's head and seemed to be muttering again, though House couldn't really hear; it sounded like 'Pretty boy, pretty boy.'

'So how do you wanna do this then?' Wilson murmured.

'I think we need to do it so your boyfriend can watch,' the man replied, and House twitched slightly at the word boyfriend. Wilson opened his eyes to look at House, and House glared back at him, thinking, Wilson, you bastard, you forgot I was here for a minute.

The man guided Wilson over to the side of the bed, and suddenly things moved very quickly. The next thing House knew, Wilson was on his knees on the floor, leaning on the bed, and the man was slipping on a condom for the second time that evening. House clutched the unlit cigarette between his fingers and felt his own breathing become heavy, as he watched the stranger slicking up, while Wilson looked first over his shoulder to see the strange man who was about to fuck him, and then up at House. House caught Wilson's eye, and read that Wilson was hot, and horny, and thinking about House, and that was all he needed to know. The sight of the stranger readying himself to thrust into Wilson made House's cock push violently upwards; House unbuttoned his own jeans to free himself.

The stranger put one hand on the back of Wilson's head, running his fingers through Wilson's already mussed up hair, while feeling Wilson's ass with his other hand, sliding between the curve of his buttocks. Wilson's body arched and convulsed slightly, and he pushed his head back against the heel of the other man's hand.

With a grunt, the man thrust roughly into Wilson, pushing him hard against the bed. House grabbed his own cock and started to roll back and forth, unable to take his eyes off the sight of someone else - and he didn't even know who he was - fucking Wilson up the ass. He saw Wilson initially gasping in pain, then starting to relax, and then - then - moving with the stranger, being carried along by his movement, shutting his eyes, feeling the sensations, pressing into the mattress - House saw the stranger was about to climax, felt his own body convulse, and they both came at the same time - the stranger into Wilson and House into his own fist.

Wilson was left temporarily bereft and gasping, then the stranger reached down, murmured, 'Hang on in there, pretty boy,' and gripped Wilson's cock in his hand. House snarled through panting breaths, 'Wilson - you slut -' and it was House's words that made Wilson come, his head rolling madly and his eyes fixed on House.


Next morning, House and Wilson came back to the bar for breakfast, as it seemed to be the only place within miles serving bacon and black coffee, and they both felt they needed the sustenance with a hard day's driving ahead of them. House wore dark glasses and kept Wilson close to him; but the place was pretty empty, with just a few people sitting around and eating, reading newspapers and chatting in a desultory fashion.

They finished breakfast, and House went off to the bathroom. Wilson was still at the table, pulling on his jacket and wondering whether to volunteer to drive first, when suddenly someone sat down next to him; and it was the man from the previous evening.

'Oh! Hi,' Wilson said, uncertain of how to react.

'Hi. Don't worry, I'm not here to cause trouble,' the stranger said swiftly. 'Just dropped by on the off chance you'd be here. Wanted to do this, which we never quite managed last night.'

And he leaned forward and kissed Wilson hard on the mouth. Wilson was taken by surprise, and didn't react for a second or two, but then he closed his eyes, and kissed back.

The stranger pulled back, looked at Wilson with a twinkle in his eye, and then he was gone.

Wilson sat for a moment, smiling stupidly to himself, and then hastily erased his expression at the sight of House coming out of the bathroom. Wilson stood up and went to join House; they bumped shoulders and strolled outside together.

Wilson noticed that House was humming Let me take you to a gay bar, and had a sudden premonition of how annoying that was going to get over the next hundred miles.

TBC