The man that got pushed onto the bed let out a throaty groan as another man pounced on him like a cat.
More and more groans spilled out of James Wilson's lips; said lips twisting their way into a smile before the other man meshed his face with his own.
Their faces parted, panting coming from one side, whimpering from the other. The whimper morphed into hungry pleas, and mad grabs at clothing.
Gregory House let out a lighthearted chuckle as he kissed his husband hard once again. He tugged and pulled at his husband's shirt, pulling at the buttons so hard, they were close to popping off. Wilson attacked House's shirt, freeing the vast chest of skin. He didn't utter words, just sounds of pleasure, glee, and pure excitement. Which meant that House made his own noises of excitement, and huge hard on.
Hips started grinding against each other in furious need for release. Pants were adding to the friction, and by the tempo of their speed, they would be removed quickly.
Mouths clashed together again, bodies molding together, hands running down limbs, squeezing, massaging, groping. Minutes of this rolled on and continued, slowly revolving into needing to get each other's clothing off. They succeeded in their plan, getting each other fully naked so that their pulsing erections rubbed next to each other forcefully, making both grown men groan and moan.
After more of that, one eventually entered the other. Both men were pushed to the limits, so close to release, but so far. Pounding from the older man, making the younger one cry out and whimper with every hit. Pain and pleasure had a war with each other, pleasure winning, pain receding.
That's when the door opened.
House continued rubbing, groping, moaning; Wilson stopped dead in his tracks when he heard the click of the door. "Greg…" he whispered, pushing as House's chest to make him stop. House did as wanted, pulling his mouth away from Wilson's neck to look him in the eye.
Both men cocked their heads towards the – now open – door, to see their ten-year-old son standing in the doorway. His eyes were wide, his mouth popped open, his eyebrows high on his head as his hand simply stayed on the knob.
His mouth fell open further, before he let out a small whimper, then ran off leaving the door wide open.
Wilson sighed, the mood completely gone from the moment, simply lying there and staring as the open door before moving and looking over back at House. "No Greg, our son just walked in on us, we're not continuing, get out of me."
House's face held a scowl, as he didn't move a muscle. Wilson's own face held a pout as he pushed as House's chest. "Come on, I've walked in on my parents, it's something that you have to talk about, let's go."
Eventually Wilson got his husband to pull out, and put some clothing on. The two made their way down to their son's room, whose door was closed and locked. Along with the paper that was taped on that read: 'Stay Away!'
Wilson ignored the paper, knocking on the door with a small frown. "Luke, Boo come on let us in so we can talk." He felt a hand on his arm, and he turned to see House with a scowl. "He's nine, like he's really going to understand that babies don't come from storks unlike mommy told him they do."
"One, he calls me Dada, and you Pops. You agreed that you didn't want to be called 'mommy'." Wilson started, "Two, we're not going to tell him we were making a baby, just that we were 'making love'."
House grunted as he turned to limp off to the living room, but quickly a hand grabbed his cane, making him almost fall face first onto the ground. "What?"
"Don't you desert me when it comes to our son!" Wilson growled, as he didn't ease up on his cane gripping. "You go to that living room, and we're not finishing what we started tonight." He warned, an eyebrow raised as he watched House's brow furrow.
He let go of House's cane, and watched as he walked off, grumbling about 'leg pain anyways' and 'we'll do it anyways, you can't resist me' before he turned a corner and was out of Wilson's sight. As he turned towards his son door, he found it open with a nine year old scowling at him. "What Dada?"
"What you saw with me and Pops was very intimate, and only men and woman do that when they're married." Wilson explained, watching as his son sighed, rolled his eyes, and turned back to walk into his room. Luckily, he left the door open for Wilson to follow, which he did. "What was that eye roll?"
Luke let out a light sigh as he plopped down on his bed before fingering through his sketchbook. "Are you kidding? It's obvious that you two were having sex." Wilson's mouth popped open, and he shook his head. "Luke, you are only ten years old! You are NOT supposed to even know what that is at your age!"
"Well I do dad." Luke said simply, whipping out his colored pencils to start coloring his picture. "Don't worry, I'm not traumatized or anything, I've seen you guys before."
Wilson's face blushed bright red as he sighed, covering his eyes. "We're not done talking about this." Even if he said that, he left the room, and Luke smirked silently to himself.