Checkmate
A House Fanfic.
Set near the end of season six. But obviously House hasn't moved out.
Since the beginning of their friendship, House had been the more dominant one in their relationship. Wilson had been the more submissive one. If House asked Wilson for a favor, Wilson couldn't seem to deny it. That was one reason why Tritter had very quickly become a big problem.
When they had begun working together at Princeton Plainsboro Teaching Hospital, House had taken the initiative to become the resident pain in the ass. While Wilson became the man everyone wanted to talk to, to share their problems with. They were exact opposites, Wilson and House, but for some reason their friendship worked.
They had an interesting repertoire, and anyone who watched them together could bask in the fascination that was their unusual friendship.
As time passed, they both began to realize the game they were playing. They moved like chess pieces, and every moment they shared together was another move on the giant chess board that was their life.
House would mask his flirtation in harsh words and demands. Wilson would mask his flirtation in annoyed looks and caring looks, and all the different kinds of looks that Wilson's face could show.
They both knew the game, and each chose their moves carefully. Wilson knew to never push House too much. And House knew that Wilson would never allow what they shared to progress beyond what it was.
As more years passed, House began to see a pattern in their game. House would come on to Wilson, sometimes subtly, sometimes not so much. And Wilson would turn him down in his sweet subtle way.
House was beginning to understand why some people went crazy; they were denied access to the body that haunted them day and night. Wilson was so close, and yet so very far away. House wanted him badly. He ached. And each time Wilson resisted, House lost a little bit more of his patience, and he vowed that one day Wilson would relent, and House would finally win the game.
It was one Friday night, at around midnight, when House had finally had enough. He waited on their ugly couch for Wilson to come home.
When Wilson stepped through the door, he barely had time to shut it behind him when House was upon him, kissing him, pushing him against the door. Wilson's briefcase fell to the hardwood floor with a thud.
At first, House almost pulled away, fearing Wilson might actually not want this at all, and what they had was merely just a game. But then Wilson had kissed him back, wrapping his hands around House's head, stroking softly with his fingers.
They separated. "House, what are we-" But House was having none of it. If they began talking then they might never be able to do this. Especially Wilson, and House had waited far too long for this moment.
They left a trail of clothes from the door to Wilson's bedroom. Wilson's coat, shoes, socks, suit jacket. House lost his t-shirt and jeans. Finally at the bedroom door, House struggled with Wilson's tie, and cufflinks. Wilson grabbed his hand to prevent him from simply ripping off the shirt.
"I like this shirt." House gave a loud sigh, and pulled Wilson's lips back to his own. Both stripped to their boxers, House pushed Wilson back on the bed. He began a trail of kisses from the nape of Wilson's neck down. Down and then pulling the boxers past his toes.
He looked up to see Wilson's face, crinkled up in ecstasy, when House's mouth was upon him.
And House had to admit, it had all been worth the wait.
Later, lying in the afterglow, Wilson snuggled deeper against House's chest. And House didn't mind. Considering House had his victory his victory, he supposed he could snuggle, just this once.
Wilson sighed softly, and House draped an arm around Wilson's chest.
He leaned over, and whispered into Wilson's ear.
"Checkmate."
And Wilson smiled.
A/N: Okay, first attempt at vaguely writing a House slash fic. Let me know what you thought please!
Disclaimer: House, M.D. is the property of David Shore and Fox.