Summary: The strange things that happens between House and Wilson during the company holiday party.
Speculative Fiction
TV Show: "House, MD"
Created by David Shore
Owned by D. Shore, Fox Network, and Bad Hat Harry Productions
Written by Bryan
Started and Completed on June 5, 2007.
Author's Note: I do not own these characters, D. Shore does, and I'm just borrowing them for a writing exercise and as a way to preserve my sanity. I am not making any monetary profit so please just relax and enjoy.
By the way, this piece is rated M for adult content, adult situations (SSC-M/M), adult language and inappropriate drug and alcohol use. I am by no means encouraging such behavior so please just READ for entertainment purposes.
Oh yeah, I apologize for the melodrama but I was aiming for a complete short story under a thousand words for that exercise I mentioned earlier.
"Happy Hanukkah"
Wilson felt slightly uncomfortable. Various co-workers wished him a Merry Christmas as he entered the hotel floor, Princeton management booked this year.
Cuddy greeted him with a sloppy drunk kiss and a hug that was a bit too long to be friendly under normal circumstances. He smiled as she handed him a warming Coke and rum. He let her guide him to a table with Stevens and Baker. He smiled at them and wished them a happy holiday, noticing that they were a bit wobbly.
Oh yeah, finding a semi-sober co-worker was going to be difficult tonight. No wonder the hospital booked at least three floors, some of them were going to be spending the night here, some were already dancing in the wind. It was only eight o'clock.
He nursed his drink as various doctors and their dates came by to spread the cheer.
It was a carnival freak show. Wilson blinked as it finally dawned on him, as he looked around the room. Co-workers that usually hated each other were holding conversations. He recognized a few nurses buzzing around the room, in dresses that were toying around the decent line.
He could clearly see the elevators from where he sat, he watched as couples snuck off into the rented rooms. Feeling very uncomfortable he shifted his attention to the dance floor.
The couples on it ranged from very stiff postures to liquid-like moving sculptures. He watched as a peds doctor came by and asked Cuddy to dance. Cuddy smiled too brightly and accepted. Wilson watched as the doctor managed to get his hands on what House called Cuddy's 'enormous ass.' Feeling like he had been caught spying he quickly turned away to listen to the conversation going on at his table. They were discussing surgeries in graphic details. It sent a shiver down his spine for some reason as a waiter came by and took up his almost empty glass and asked what he was drinking.
After hearing a comment about an open heart valve, Wilson decided to up the alcohol to numb his senses. He ordered straight vodka and looked over at the far eastern entrance.
It seemed to be the gambling section. Remembering a few years back, he smiled softly at the memory of House puffing away at a cigar as he toyed with Cuddy, making her lose bigger and bigger pots. He figured he'd go lose a few bucks. At least it would get him away from the conversation that had shifted to golf scores.
He glanced back at Cuddy who was now hanging off the guy. He interrupted the ever more weary conversation and excused himself. He was in the middle of wishing them a happy holiday when he felt someone staring at him.
Wilson glanced around the room but no one was looking at him. He looked back towards Cuddy but her head was on her partner's shoulder with her eyes closed. He left some money for the waiter and as he turned around, he was bumped into by some doctor he did not know.
He cringed as he felt cool liquid spread onto his shirt. He looked down to see his shirt stained with some amber color.
He brushed off the guy's hands as he politely accepted his apology. He offered a weak smile and decided to go use a room to wash his shirt. After muttering a season's greeting, he walked out of the room. He got a room key after he gave his name to the constituter.
While he waited for the elevator to arrive he glanced around the lobby. It was a nice place but not really his style. He heard the consigner answering a question. He glanced back in their direction and wondered if it was House. The guy sure looked like House from behind but he dismissed it. There was no cane, so it was not House.
Before he could continue to follow the conversation the music blared behind him as the soft jazz was replaced by the heavy beat of drums. A drunken cheer came from inside but before he could turn to look, his elevator showed up.
He stepped inside and pushed the correct button. His fingers began to pull at his damp shirt, when it begun to stick to his skin. The trace aroma of his cologne, mixed with what he figured was whiskey, was strong enough to make his eyes start to blink back tears. The harsh smell of alcohol was starting to burn at his olfactory nerves. He pinched the upper part of his nose to defuse the gathering pain as he steeped out of the elevator and walked down the hall to find his room.
He sighed as he slipped the card key in the slot and waited for it to click open. He began taking off his jacket as he heard a woman's laughter from across the hall. He shook his head as he let his jacket dangle from his fingertips, as he opened the door. Just as he was stepping into the room he heard the ding of the elevator as it stopped on the floor again.
He ignored the moan from the room next door as he closed the door. He left his jacket on the nearest chair armrest and began to work on his wrist buttons. Just as he reached for the bow- tie, there was a firm knock on his door.
Confused he opened the door only to be stunned. It was House!
"Hey Wilson." Before he could respond House walked into the room. He stepped a few feet back as House closed the door. House's blue eyes focused on his wet shirt. "Are you drunk?"
"Me? No. Some guy spilled his drink on me. I just came up here to…. Wait. How the hell did you find me?"
"I'm a genius, Wonder Boy, I asked for you at the front desk."
"But how did you know…?"
"You look strange in bow ties. It's not normal. Did you win any money at the tables?"
"No. I didn't play this year." Wilson turned around and undid his bow tie.
"Oh bad idea, Garcia was on a winning streak, even you would have cleaned up." House commented as he followed him to the bathroom.
"Hey! My poker skills aren't hat bad." Wilson muttered as he began working the buttons on his shirt.
"Aren't you going to ask?" House asked as he leaned against the sink counter with his back towards the mirror. Unsure of what House was talking about, he continued to work his buttons.
"Starting off with loaded questions is not fair, House. Besides that Coke and rum, followed by the vodka are starting to hit me. Boy, I am going to lose this match before it starts." He mumbled as he tried to focus on the slippery shirt buttons. "These things are getting smaller and sneakier." He commented out loud before he could censor his mouth.
"Here." House sighed as his hands caught fistfuls of material and turned Wilson towards him. Wilson had to steady himself on House's arm as his eyes refused to focus for a moment.
"I asked for more Coke than rum." He muttered to himself but House laughed softly anyways.
"The bartender figured he'd give you the courage to hit on Cuddy."
"Cuddy? No. Cuddy was drinking martinis, I think."
"Scotch, Wilson."
"Huh? I don't think they stocked scotch in the mini bar but you're welcomed to look."
"Ask me Wilson, just get it over with."
"Ask you what?"
"Where is my cane?" Suddenly the world tilted and he was falling with it. Before he could reach for anything to steady him, his body was jerked forward.
"House, I can't think straight. Please let's not do this now. Let's not do this ever. I need a shower and sleep." Wilson pleaded as House spun him around so now the countertop dug into his lower back.
He felt the bile start to rise but he was able to keep it down by pressing his left hand into his stomach.
"You can't be drunk on two drinks." House muttered as Wilson closed his eyes.
"I have not had a drink in four months, not even a beer. I ate too early." Wilson muttered as his head began to hurt.
"Bad move Wilson." House muttered as he felt the material give. He could feel his skin goose bump as a cooled air conditioned breeze hit his skin. He gasped softly and could not suppress the shiver that went throughout his body as he felt House's fingertips brush softly against his skin.
"Can I just forfeit this game House? The cards are stacked in your favor. Please? I can't focus." Wilson pleaded as House peeled away his shirt. He heard it slop onto the floor a few seconds before House's fingertips were reaching for his undershirt.
On a sudden wave of panic he caught House's hands and held them still.
"I'm sober Wilson. I have a small amount, 2ccs, of morphine in my system. I even got Peterson to administer it. You know it's only 2ccs."
"Oh god, you're using morphine?"
"I'm just using it for tonight. I'll suffer through the pain for tonight before I go back to the vicodin tomorrow. I promise."
"But House, morphine?"
"You and Cuddy have put a high alert on morphine access on me. Remember? I can't touch the stuff without someone's supervision."
"You're on morphine?"
"Fuck the morphine Wilson. Ask me about my cane."
"No. Why did Peterson…?"
"I am NOT a cripple Wilson! I do not need to be treated like a social mystery everyday. I do not want you to see me as a cripple tonight!"
"I don't."
"The hell you don't. Why did you help me with Tritter?"
"You're my friend."
"Bullshit."
"House please! I can't do this tonight. Please just go away. Believe whatever you want to believe, just go away."
"No." House muttered into his neck a second before he peeled off the undershirt.
"God! House stop, this is too much!" He pleaded weakly as he felt House's warm lips press against his throat. He moaned as House slid his hands back up to his neck and clasped behind his skull.
"Do you love me James?" His body jerked involuntarily at the sound of his name.
"Yes. You know I do. You're my friend." House laughed softly before Wilson felt House's warm tongue press gently into his neck.
"Let's end this game tonight James." House moaned in his ear as House pressed his hips into Wilson's stomach.
Wilson began to tremble as House's meaning became clear.
"House, I'm drunk. Please don't do this! I'm not playing this game! Go away!" He pleaded as House's fingers roamed up and down his arms.
"You know you want this. Don't you?"
"Stop please, House."
"Don't you?"
"Stop." Wilson begged as House's fingers made quick work of his pants. He could feel the blood rushing south.
House leaned back into him and kissed him. Wilson moaned in defeat as his mouth opened under House's. When he felt House's tongue slid into his mouth, he gasped hesitantly but his hands pulled House up against him.
They kissed for awhile before House pulled free.
"Don't you?" House asked as Wilson's pants pooled at his feet. Wilson reached for House's coat and pulled it off. House moaned as he recaptured Wilson's lips.
Wilson pulled House's shirt free from his pants before House grabbed his wrists.
"Do you want this James?" Were his actions not clear enough? "Tell me."
"Yes." Wilson muttered as he reached for House's fly.
"What do you want?" Oh god, House was going to drive him crazy with these questions.
"You know." Wilson muttered into House's mouth.
"Tell me James. What do you want me to do?" His mind was racing. There was a change in House's tone but for the life of him, he could not figure it out.
Unable to do anything else, Wilson finally answered him after he gathered his thoughts and courage. "Take me to bed House. Please?"
House leaned in and guided Wilson back into the bedroom. He guided Wilson down onto the bed as they continued to kiss.
Wilson waited for a moment as House crawled on top of him before he tried to unbutton House's shirt. Cursing softly he forced himself to focus on House's buttons.
Out of the blue, he felt something pierce his skin. Startled he stopped and looked at his arm, just in time to watch House push the plunger down the needle shaft. Whatever was in the needle was now in his system, he felt the tip pierce a vein. He forgot how accurate House was with needles.
"What did you give me?" He asked bewildered as House moved off of him. He sat up and tried to grab at the needle but House pulled it out of his reach.
"Have a happy fucking Hanukkah, James." House seethed as he let the needle fall into a trashcan and began righting himself. House turned and walked towards the sink. Wilson was able to see House swish the hotel mouthwash in his mouth, just before his eyes fell shut.
"Wilson? Wilson?" He moaned as he heard a woman's voice. Was it Cuddy? "Wilson, do you know where you are?" He could feel his right hand throb in agony as he felt the needle shaft under his skin. The beeping of the machines gave it away. He was in a hospital. "Do you know what happened?" Was she crazy? How could he focus on her questions? "Who did this to you?"
"Don't ask him such stupid questions Cuddy. We need to figure out what's in his system." House?
"Dr. Cuddy! We need you in here!" Someone called out and Wilson heard her heels as they clicked away. He could feel House lean into him before House's voice drifted into his ear.
"Check and mate, friend."
He had lost the game.
The End.