TWTB: My first House M.D. Fanfic! Woot! I *heart* House/Wilson! It's so epic! So I hope all my fellow fans enjoy this fic.
Disclaimer: I don't own House M.D. Fox does.
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Wilson sat in his office, leaning back in his chair while reading over a surgeons report. Everything was checking out well. The tumor in his patient's lung was removed at the cancer hadn't spread to the lymphoid. He smiled a bit as he finished reading and tossed the report on his desk. He sighed and rested his head back, mind wandering to his next patient when he heard a soft 'tnk'.
He looked up and saw something small hit the glass door leading to balcony, producing a similar noise to the one he had just heard. His brows rose slightly as a few more pebbles, he guessed by the size, came in contact with the glass. He gave a soft groan as he finally figured out it was probably his so-called friend trying to get his attention. He got up and walked to the door and found House standing on the opposite balcony, throwing one more pebble for good measure, a rather smug smirk playing on his face.
Wilson shook his head, smiling despite himself as he walked onto his balcony, hands on his hips. "Stop throwing pebbles at my door." He said, giving House one of his 'stop acting like a child' looks.
"They're not pebbles." House stated flatly as he popped a few of what were previous thought to be pebbles in his mouth.
"Were you throwing your Vicodin?" House looked at him as if he had grown a third eye.
"No way! That'd be such a waste! They're M&Ms." Said the cripple, leaning against the short wall that divided the space.
"Can I have some?" As the Oncologist reached for the handful, House moved his hand out of reach.
"No. You weren't at lunch today."
"Oh come on, it was one day."
"I spent five dollars because of you."
"Oh you've got to be kidding."
"Oh, you're right, it was six dollars."
Wilson rolled his eyes as he leaned forward on his hands. "I have to wean you off my French fries eventually, you know."
"But Mo-om!" The diagnostician whined in a fake child-like tone.
"Besides, I was at lunch with someone else."
The older man gave a mock gasp. "I thought I was the only one allowed to have lunch rendezvous with you. I'm hurt." He gave a rather realistic fake pout. "So who's the lady?"
Wilson raised a brow. "Who ever said it was a lady?"
"Let me guess, a new nurse and you're just being nice?" He continued, ignoring Wilson's comment.
"Whats wrong with being nice? You should try it sometime." Wilson suggested, watching as House popped a few M&Ms in his mouth them offered them to his friend, who took him up on it and gabbed a few.
"I'd rather choke on my Vicodin. Nice is overrated. You owe me dinner by the way."
"And why's that?"
"You skipped lunch to elope with the new nurse."
"I did not 'elope' with her! And she's not a nurse!"
"So you were at lunch with someone else!" He gave Wilson another 'I'm hurt' face, fluttering his lashes as if to chase away any stray crocodile tears. "So who was it?"
Wilson sighed and ran a hand over his face as he caved. "Dr. Allen. She's studying Oncology so I thought I could help her out."
"Dating does not count as 'helping her out'." He stated matter-of-factly.
"We're not dating! What do you want for dinner?"
"Changing the subject, are we?"
"Just answer the question or I'm never cooking for you again!"
"But you love me too much to do that!"
"House!"
"Alright, keep your pants on. I want Pancakes."
"Pancakes? For dinner?"
"Did I stutter?"
Wilson sighed. "Fine, you pick up the stuff and I'll come over after work."
"Sounds good to me." House smirked up at his friend. "I'll look forward to it."
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Later-
House set the plastic bag on the counter and limped over to the fridge, plucking a beer from the top shelf. He popped it open and took a swig before limping over to his couch. Once seated he turned on the TV and began watching some talk show, his mind however was wandering from the conversation between the fake-cheeked host and anorexic bimbo pop-diva guest to the conversation he had earlier. He would have to check up on this Dr. Allen when he got the chance. He twirled his cane absent-mindedly as he thought over how he would sneak into Cuddy's office and steal her personal record. After all, if Wilson was interested in this new Doctor he had to make sure she was up to snuff, and if not (which was HIGHLY likely) He would make sure to end anything before it started.
Before he could question his own motives any father he heard a familiar knock on the door. "Doors open." He called as he changed the channel to NCIS*.
"You know, it's not safe to leave your door unlocked all the time." Wilson mentioned as he entered and hung up his jacket.
"Really?" House asked sarcastically. "I thought thieves knocked on the doors before kicking them open! I didn't know they'd check to see if they're unlocked." He didn't look up as Wilson passed him on the way to the kitchen.
"Hey Steve." Wilson greeted the rat as he located the bag of ingredients. "What, do you only shop when I promise to cook?" He asked as he glanced in the bag, rolled up his sleeves and set off to work.
"Pretty much." The Diagnostician said with a shrug.
An hour later and the two friends were seated next to each other, two empty plates and a few empty beer bottles littering the coffee table in front of them. Wilson, who had a bit of trouble holding his alcohol, was chattering away about some actor he didn't like, while House blankly watched the TV screen.
"I think he-"
"Wilson…"
"Is such a bad actor! I don't even get why-"
"Wilson."
"All the ladies fawn over him like he's some kind of-"
"Wilson!"
"What?"
"Shut up."
Wilson simply glared and pouted before turning away, as if to say 'fine, see if I talk to you again!'
They sat in silence for a while, watching the movie that was currently flashing across the screen. House wasn't too sure what was going on do to the distracting pain in his leg. He checked his pockets and found them empty. "Shit…" He muttered, leaning his head back against the couch, closing his eyes. He left his Vicodin in his car! How could he be so stupid? He sighed and gently began massaging his bad leg, not hearing the body next to him move.
Wilson watched his fellow doctor. House was clearly in pain, and by the absence of said doctor's favorite drug, he'd say he would be in pain until he found his Vicodin. He started to get up, going to look for House's meds when he stopped, looking back at his friend, most at his friend's hand that was currently trying to relieve his discomfort.
House's eyes shot open as he felt two hands join his first on his leg. He looked down at his pained appendage to see that there were indeed two hands gently massaging his leg. His blue eyes traveled up the arm, passed the shoulder, across the neck until they found warm brown eyes concentrating on his work. The Diagnostician watched the Oncologist's face as said doctor's eyebrows knitted together in concentration.
Wilson had been so busy on the task of massaging House's leg he almost didn't feel his friend's eyes on him. Suddenly he stopped and looked up, his eyes catching House's and the older man held the gaze. The longer he looked at House the hotter his face felt. What the hell? He just started massaging his best friend's leg out of the blue! How would he explain this to him? Let alone himself? He opened his mouth to speak but was cut off.
"Don't stop." The older doctor commanded.
"W-what?"
"Don't stop, it feels good." Wilson attempted to swallow, the action made hard by his suddenly dry mouth and nodded mutely.
House watched as his friend continued to his earlier ministrations. He ended up leaning his head back against the couch again, giving soft grunts and sighs of relief and pleasure, not noticing how these sounds were affecting his friend. After a few minutes of this he put his hand on Wilson's shoulder and looked down at his now confused companion. His hand moved from the younger man's shoulder to caress the back of his neck.
"House?" At hearing his name said doctor leaned closer, finding he was only confusing his friend more. He smirked devilishly.
"Don't give me that look." He nearly growled. "You know exactly whats going on." Without giving his tipsy friend a chance to reply he crush his lips against the other's.
Wilson, at first, was too shocked to respond, but once his brain caught up with him closed his eyes and leaned back into the rough kiss. At first it was simply lips against lips but quickly elevated to a war between tongues, the winner getting the rights to the loser's mouth. House won of course, and after he fully explored the territory that was Wilson's beer, pancake, and a taste uniquely his, flavored mouth they pulled apart for some well need air.
At first they simply stared at each other before the full extent of what happened hit Wilson like a knock on the head with House's cane.
He just kissed another MAN.
He just kissed a MALE CO-WORKER.
He just kissed HOUSE!
His face lit up lit up like a light bulb covered in blood as his world came into focus and he found House's hands unbuttoning his shirt. Without a second thought he shot up from his seat, re-buttoned what house had managed to unbutton, send House a slightly apologetic look, which he returned with his own confused and slightly hurt look, before grabbing his jacket and hightailing it out of there.
House stared at his door in slight disbelief before his face settled in a scowl. What the hell? He had come onto him first, hadn't he? And then he just up and leaves? The Diagnostician sighed in annoyance before looking down at the ever so evident tent in his pants. He held up his right hand and gave it and almost reproachful look. "Looks like it's just you and me again."
TBC.
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TWTB: WOOT! It's LOOOOONG! I hope you like it! Please review and tell me what you think! Comments and constructive criticism welcome! Flames will be used to make smores!
P.S. For those who've read my other Fics I'll be updating soon! I love you all :D
*NCIS: A show on the same Channel as House XD