Disclaimer and all that good stuff in chapter 1.
Just a reminder, this fic is rated M for a reason. If anything that's come before in this fic has bothered you, read no further.
Chapter 7: Virgins
"Okay," Wilson said through a mouthful of orange chicken, nodding at the two naked men on the television screen, "I'm starting to feel inferior."
House sniffed in agreement. "No kidding," he said, leaning forward to add more sweet and sour chicken to his box of steamed rice.
"And I have to admit," Wilson began. He paused to swallow. "This isn't doing it for me."
"You don't see it as something to aspire to?" House asked playfully. The men on the screen had assumed a wildly exotic position.
"Well…" Wilson said, eyes on the screen, "I don't want to fuck either of them." He cringed. "And that looks like it hurts."
House cringed too.
Wilson glanced at him. "I hope you didn't throw out all of your old porn," he said.
House laughed through his chopsticks. "I'd need a dump truck for that," he said.
"Lesbians?" Wilson asked.
House shook his head, chewing. "One appetite at a time, Jimmy."
Wilson nodded and reached for the DVD remote. "Game?" he asked pressing stop and turning the machine off.
"Oh yeah," House said, "that'll really get me going."
Wilson rolled his eyes and found a basketball game.
"Mmm," House purred, "all those hoops and balls. Don't know if I can take it."
Wilson rolled his eyes again and stuffed more chicken in his mouth.
Half an hour later most of the food was gone and they were sprawled out on opposite ends of the couch, working off the food hangover in silence, belching occasionally.
"So…" Wilson said after a while. He glanced at House.
House knew exactly what he was thinking. It was time for the main event.
"So…" House echoed, glancing back.
If Wilson was looking for a moment…well, this wasn't it. House was still a little too full for vigorous activity.
Wilson sat up and laughed unsteadily. "I haven't been this nervous about sex since high school," he said.
"Me neither," House said. Odd. He hadn't even had the urge to make a witty retort. Something about sex made him entirely too honest.
They sat quietly for a while longer, both watching the game on television.
Finally, Wilson asked, "What was it like?"
House looked over at him: what was what like?
"Your first time," he said.
"Really embarrassing," House said.
Silence stretched on again.
"How old were you?" Wilson asked.
"I thought you didn't care about my sexual history," House said with a slight smirk. He was too nervous to pull off a real smirk.
"I don't," Wilson responded.
House's eyebrows jumped for effect. "Well," he drawled out, "since you put it like that." He kept his eyes on Wilson…and Wilson's eyes were asking for honestly. Damn. Couldn't lie.
"I was eighteen." He tried to hide his embarrassment.
Wilson seemed to have picked up on it. "I was seventeen," he said. "We went to her parents' bedroom one day after school. She said she knew they had condoms." He began to redden. "I don't think I lasted a minute." He sipped his beer for the sheer distraction it afforded. "She said she was a virgin but…" He shook his head slightly and sipped the beer again.
House shook his head in sympathy. "Mine wasn't either," he said. "I was lucky to make it to five minutes. And I wasn't even in high school." Now he sipped his beer. "She was German," he said slowly. "Spending a semester in America. We went back to her dorm after a party and…she was very experienced." He laughed nervously. "Boy was she pissed when she found out I wasn't really from the Fatherland. I slipped into English. 'No German boy is that fast,' she said."
Wilson winced once and smiled, pleased that House had shared his story. "Didn't know you spoke German," he said.
House shrugged. "Spent a few years there when I was young."
Wilson nodded, more to himself than to House. No matter how many times he saw House's father, he always managed to forget House was a military brat. Except for the utter contempt for authority, it didn't show.
"How is the Commander?" Wilson asked.
"Not dead yet," House answered. "Mom's fine. Yours?"
"The same," Wilson said.
Another awkward silence ensued.
They had the pretense of watching the last few minutes of the game, but the discrepancy in the score was too large to make it interesting. Wilson stared at his beer bottle, wishing he knew what to say. House had already pulled half of the label off of his bottle. He didn't know what to say either. Eons of time passed. Neither House nor Wilson could ever remember being so uncomfortable around the other. Even during the infarction, even when they had the occasional real fight about House's drug habits—even then they weren't uncomfortable. They weren't anticipating, wondering what the other was thinking. But now…
"You know we don't have to do this," Wilson blurted.
House glanced quickly at him then back to the television.
"I know," he said. "But I really want to." He rubbed his groin. "I had to stop myself from masturbating so many times today…"
"Me too," Wilson said, leaning back on the couch and joining House in a slow groin rub.
"Mmm," House said, feeling the fabric start to chafe, "take your shirt off and come here."
"Take yours off too," Wilson said, shirt already over his head.
House obliged and Wilson slid over to him, leaning in for a kiss.
They started slowly, still sleepy from dinner and both nervous, missing awkwardly as they tried to find the rhythm that had taken them so far so fast in the clinic this morning. Wilson fumbled for the remote and turned the television off as SportsCenter came on.
House nipped his lip a little too hard and he made a passionate, inarticulate noise against House's mouth, taking him by the shoulders and pushing him down on the couch. They broke apart so House could move his left leg onto the couch and Wilson could get on his knees.
"I wish you'd shave this," Wilson said, his finger running along House's cheek.
"Everyone would be suspicious," House replied. He looked up at Wilson looking down on him. Wilson's hair was pulled forward by gravity and his lips were wet, eyes sparkling.
He wasn't bending down to resume, though. Damn. Wilson actually had something to hold over him now. House was suddenly aware of how difficult arguments with him were going to become. Because right now he needed sex with Wilson more than he needed anything else. If he couldn't get sex…
"I'll shave it tomorrow night and let it grow back over the weekend," House said. He put his hands on Wilson's shoulders, ready to pull him down. "Satisfied?" he asked.
"Very," Wilson answered, leaning down.
They kissed for a long time before Wilson started nipping and sucking House's shoulder. House played with Wilson's nipples, thumbing them as they became hard, and ran his fingers through Wilson's hair, but he was careful to stay above the waist. This was only the prologue; no need to go too quickly.
Wilson figured out what he was doing after a while. They were both hard by then.
Wilson stopped sucking House's nipple and raised his head. "This will be easier in the bedroom."
Something about the way he said it…House shut his eyes and groaned. "I want to make this last," he said stiffly, "but you're driving me wild."
"We better hurry then," Wilson said with a seductive grin, leaning back and carefully getting off the couch.
House sat up and got both feet on the floor. "Condoms and lube are in the bag," he said.
Wilson nodded, picking the bag up. He wasn't thrilled about House's insistence that they use protection, but it was House's ass. And the latex barrier would help him last longer if he got too excited…and he sensed he was going to get too excited.
House found his cane and slowly stood up. Wilson frowned to himself. House didn't usually use it inside unless he was having trouble. More than that, Wilson knew House's old cane was near the bed in the bedroom, so he wasn't just taking it with him to have access to one when he woke up later.
"Where are your pills?" Wilson asked, trying to sound neutral.
"Bedroom," House said. "In my jacket." He wasn't pleased this subject had come up but he was determined not to let it come between them right now. Not when sex was on the line.
"Need one?" Wilson asked.
House frowned slightly. "They're not exactly performance enhancers," he answered. "And this conversation will definitely kill my hard-on."
Wilson understood the request to drop the subject. His face became seductive again. "Can't let that happen," he said, starting for the bedroom.
House led the way, his limp more exaggerated than it usually was. Walking with tented pants wasn't the easiest thing to do on two regular legs, never mind a leg and a half.
Wilson fished the condoms and lube out of the bag, dropping it on the bedroom floor. He was shocked at seeing the box.
"Wow," he said, holding the box, "you got the economy pack."
"If all thirty-six of them aren't jizzed in and littering the floor by Monday, I'm going to be one unhappy sex partner," House said, carefully sitting down on the bed.
Wilson gawked at him. House merely raised an eyebrow in reply that said I'm going to eat you alive.
Wilson swallowed.
"Come on, Jimmy," House said, slipping the pajama bottoms off to expose his half-erect penis, "Time to go where no man has gone before."
Wilson continued to gape. For some reason, the giant box of condoms had brought home what he was about to do to him and he was stunned. He was about to sleep with House. All the fooling around they'd done—hand jobs, blow jobs, mutual masturbation—that was just fooling around. This was something he'd really never done before and he was about to do it with House. He'd been sincere this morning in the note he'd written. He loved House. But loving House was one thing. Fucking him was another thing entirely. But he wanted it so much; he was shocked at how much he wanted it.
House licked a finger and touched it to his ass, making a hissing noise. "Too hot for you to handle?"
Quickly, Wilson snapped out of the trance he'd been in. He could do this. He wanted to do this. He was going to do this.
Confidently, he tossed the condoms and lube on the bed and divested himself of his boxers. Walking up to the bed, he bent down to kiss House but House was faster, and Wilson felt warm lips close over his erection. He shuddered, feeling House cautiously taking him in, darting his tongue this way and that, licking more than sucking. Holy shit. House really was going to eat him alive. Holy shit.
After a few minutes of exploration, House pulled back and looked up at Wilson's pleased-but-needy face.
"Lie down so I have better access," House instructed.
Wilson couldn't argue with that. Making sure he was on House's left side, he sat next to House, scooted up the bed, and laid on his back. House scooted with him, more slowly, and twisted his body to the left.
This time he teased like Wilson had teased him last night, licking the shaft of Wilson's penis like a popsicle, then moving his head down to take one of Wilson's testicles in his mouth. Very gently, he let his tongue play along the little ball of flesh. Slowly, taking his time, he finished sucking the first one and shifted position to take the other one. They didn't taste at all the way a woman's vagina tasted, but the taste wasn't bad. He liked the taste of Wilson's cock better, though, and Wilson wasn't making any strangled noises, so House felt it was safe to assume that sucking his cock would bring him more pleasure.
He teased around Wilson's dick again, running his tongue over the shaft in a variety of patterns, licking the head, until he felt Wilson squirming. Then he pulled back. He'd wanted to try this all day. He'd been reading up on technique.
Playing with the head of Wilson's penis again first, House moved to take it in his mouth and when he felt resistance, started swallowing. He gagged but kept swallowing, trying to suppress the reflex. Suddenly it was gone and his lips were kissing pubic hair. If he could have smiled, he would have. He began moving carefully, knowing that he was giving Wilson one of his (House's) favorite things. Good deep throating felt incredible. He could hear how incredible Wilson found it.
Wilson moaned. "House, stop," he panted. "I'm gonna come now if you don't stop."
Reluctantly, House obliged, letting Wilson have his six and half inches back. He coughed and pulled a pubic hair out of his teeth.
"I need to shave?" he said as Wilson watched him, "you need to shave."
Wilson was still in the other world of sexual anticipation and gratification. "I had no idea you could do that," he said.
"Neither did I," House said. He leaned over Wilson's penis again. "I want to do it again."
Wilson groaned. "I really want to fuck you but if you say that one more time…"
House moved closer to Wilson's upper body and leaned down to kiss him thoroughly, slowly rubbing Wilson's dick with his right hand. Wilson moaned, kissing back with urgency.
House pulled away after a minute and leered. He tossed Wilson the box of condoms and the lube.
"Be gentle."
Wilson closed his eyes and shuddered under the intensity of House's gaze. He was in so much trouble and it was so good.
House watched him, pleased he could still overwhelm someone sexually. Clearly, Wilson found him incredibly sexy. It had been a long time since he'd felt sexy.
Once he recovered, Wilson sat up. "What's the best way to do this…" he began.
"Start with your fingers," House said. He half rolled his eyes, too full of sexual energy to be truly sarcastic. "I hope you know how to do that part by now."
Wilson shook his head. "That's not what I meant," he said. "I mean what's the best position?"
"How am I supposed to know that," House answered.
Wilson surveyed him. "Okay," he said. "Umm…lie on your stomach and spread your legs…how does that sound?"
"Sounds good," House said. "Let's try it."
House flipped over as quickly as he could while Wilson opened the box of condoms.
"Don't waste one on that," House said when he heard Wilson rip open a foil packet.
"You're the one who insisted on protection," Wilson pointed out.
House pushed himself up and twisted around. "You don't have to…" he said.
Wilson knew he wasn't talking about fingers. He sensed House's reluctance, though.
"I don't mind," he said. Not too much. He shrugged. "You're the one who should be comfortable this time anyway."
But House appeared to be trying to talk himself out of it still. "I guess if you—"
Wilson cut him off. "Let's discuss this later when I'm not about to shove my fingers up your ass," he said, unrolling the condom on his left index finger. He unscrewed the top of the lube too and squeezed a liberal amount on his finger and smiled seductively.
"Yes sir," House answered with his own seductive smile and lay back down.
"This is gonna be cold," Wilson said. "Ready?"
"Do it."
House's left eye watched him anxiously.
Wilson kept eye contact as he carefully lubed the area around House's anal opening, using most of what he'd spread on his finger, lubed up again, and slowly inserted his finger.
To his credit, House didn't flinch.
Wilson pulled it out before he'd reached the second joint and lubed again. Now his finger went slowly all the way in and he tickled House's prostate.
House gasped, body jerking.
Wilson grinned, pleased at the reaction he'd gotten. "Good?" he asked.
"My dick's pinned underneath me," House said. "Kinda hurts when you triple the blood flow that quickly." House's eye caught him again. "Start stretching and don't do that again until you're ready to pound me."
"Okay," Wilson said, "but if I go too fast…"
House grunted.
Wilson pulled his finger out a little and began stretching the muscles slowly and carefully. House wasn't watching him any longer and he was intent on what he was doing. When he thought House was ready for it, he withdrew his finger, slipped his middle finger inside the condom with his index finger, lubed up again, and slowly inserted both.
"Okay?" Wilson asked.
"Mmm," House replied, eyes closed, clearly pleased with the sensation.
Wilson began stretching again, slowly moving in and out to simulate intercourse. The look of happiness and pleasure on House's face turned to one of need. Eyes closed, starting to breathe faster, House looked vulnerable: he needed this.
Even more blood surged to Wilson's groin as he watched the need on House's face grow. Quickly, Wilson withdrew his fingers again, tossed the condom aside, and moved up the bed toward House's head.
House looked up at him. Trepidation was barely there, buried under a thick coat of desire, but there it was.
"How was it?" Wilson asked.
"Felt weird," House said. "Like you were pulling my colon out."
"Do you want to…"
"No," House said. "It was really good…just weird also."
Wilson nodded slightly and leaned down for a kiss. House propped himself up on his palms and kissed back.
"Ready?" Wilson asked when the kiss had ended.
House nodded.
"Tell me if I go too fast," Wilson said.
House nodded again and lay back down.
Beginning to feel more nervous but still electrified by need and desire, Wilson slipped a condom on, rubbed extra lube on it, and positioned himself as best he could without getting too close to House's leg—which was a challenge.
"Okay," Wilson said, positioning his penis at House's reddened opening but not pushing in. "Feel me?"
"Yeah," House said. "Go."
Planting his knuckles on the bed, Wilson slowly pushed forward. He heard House hiss and felt him stiffen, and stopped his forward progress. Let your partner's muscles become accustomed to you before you go forward: don't pull out; just wait. He followed the advice he'd looked up and waited, and soon he felt House's muscles relax around his penis and he advanced again.
After five long minutes of being gentle and going slow, Wilson was finally all the way in. It felt wonderful, so tight and hot. He hadn't felt anything this tight around his dick in ten years. He regretted the condom, but House was the one being penetrated. It really was up to him.
Wilson pulled out slightly and shoved in, gentle but intently. House gasped.
"Hurt?" Wilson asked.
"A little," House said, "but keep going. Feels good."
Wilson pulled out farther this time and slid back in more slowly. House's muscles were contracting all around him; it was so good. Too good for words. Suddenly he was grateful House had insisted on a rubber. He wouldn't last at all in such a tight, hot space without it.
Out again and then in again, faster and harder this time, but still very slow. House was too tight to let him forget that this was a virgin he was fucking. And he could hear House breathing the ragged breaths of intercourse: surprise and ecstasy in House's breathing.
Again out and again in. God this felt so good. He was holding back with every inch of his will, so badly did he want to start a rhythm.
"More lube," he heard House gasp out.
Wilson pulled out and complied, lubing liberally. He was about to ask again if he was hurting House too much when House suddenly pushed himself up, carefully getting on his hands and knees.
He looked intensely over his shoulder at Wilson. "Fuck me hard."
Wilson was too into it now to stop, but not so into it that he wasn't feeling playful. On his knees, he moved until his penis was in position but he didn't push. Instead he grabbed House's hips and leaned forward.
"What did you say?" he whispered dangerously, stroking House's dick once, quickly.
House shuddered. "I said fuck me hard, Jimmy," he panted.
Wilson leaned forward again and kissed House between the shoulder blades, then plunged his penis in hard, hands on House's hips.
House cried out—a good cry. The cry he, Wilson, often made when he was being fucked in his dreams. Wilson didn't stop, but he did ease the force, slamming in again more gently, though it was becoming more difficult for him to think. The tight flesh encasing him was too good. He slid in and out gently a few times before House spoke again.
"Harder."
Wilson pushed in hard again and House gasped and shuddered. Wilson finally started a rhythm, slow but forceful, and House gasped and moaned every time he pushed in. Wilson felt himself starting to lose it—House was so tight—and began employing the standard mental distractions to make it last. The noises House was making, the panting, gasping, moaning, shaking sounds of pleasure—all of it made distracting himself more difficult. He'd had no idea it would be this good.
"Faster," House panted.
Wilson increased his pace, barely holding himself together. He wasn't going to come after only five minutes of proper fucking. No. He could last so much longer than that. He was going to make House come first. But if he kept up this pace and this force…
House's cries became louder and more plaintive and Wilson tried to rock harder without giving in to the orgasm that had built so quickly. He concentrated on dead, disgusting things, stomach-turning, revolting, things, but the slap of his hips and balls against House's ass and the squish of penetration were so good. He was panting, shaking, sweating, feeling his sweat mix with House's, creating more heat, God how could anyone be this tight.
He pushed in and held the position, the natural cool down between segments of hard fucking. House needed it too, momentary respite from such intense pleasure.
Wilson felt the need to ejaculate recede after a few slow pumps. Rejuvenated, he started the hard, fast rhythm again, rejoicing in House's breathless gasps, even more grateful for the layer of latex that kept him from losing it too early.
He hadn't had sex this good in such a long time, but it was becoming clear to him that he wasn't going to last much longer. Judging by the sounds House was making, House wasn't going to last much longer either.
Again, he pushed in hard and stayed there, resting, letting House rest. The pulse of their collective panting filled the room and the sweat shining on House's back in the lamp light was suddenly incredibly sexy. Compelled by the need to feel resistance again, Wilson resumed the rhythm, but this time he went more slowly. If House asked him to speed up or pound harder again…he wasn't sure he'd be able to hold out through a third series. Normally a third series of serious fucking was part of his warm up—not even the center of the performance. On a good night, he could still last well over an hour. But this…God, House was too tight.
"Jimmy…" House gasped as Wilson pumped into him at medium speed. "Take it off. I want to feel you."
"Can't," Wilson panted. "I'll come too fast."
Before House could say anything else, Wilson pushed in hard, making him gasp. Then Wilson leaned over, planting his right hand on the bed, and started stroking House's cock. He began pumping again, trying to time his thrusts with his strokes. House's body tensed and Wilson heard his pre-orgasmic gasps and pants increase.
"My leg's cramping," House gasped. "Hard and fast, hurry."
Wilson summoned the strength he'd been saving for the climax and pounded as hard and fast as he could, jerking House's dick frantically. He was cueing up a stream of distracting images to make himself last when he felt House start to come. Removing the throttle he'd kept on his mind, he sped to a furious pace, hearing House's loud orgasmic moans, feeling House's muscles contract around his cock, and his own orgasmic rush caught up with him, hot cum spreading up the condom as his entire body focused on shooting it out.
House collapsed under him and Wilson's penis fell out as the last of the ejaculate left him. He fell on to his back to House's left, savoring the bliss of an intense orgasm. Even with the early ending, that was the best sex he'd had in at least two years. He heard House coming down next to him and smelled a mix of their sweat and semen and latex.
For a few minutes, neither moved. It had been too good.
As soon as Wilson was able to, he got up and went to House's jacket, retrieving his pills. He'd noted its location earlier, certain that no matter how it went, House would need one afterward.
Back on the bed, he shook out two and put them in House's hand, put the bottle on the night stand and collapsed again. House pushed himself up off of his semen-drenched stomach and swallowed both of them before he too collapsed again.
After a few minutes of silent satiation, Wilson asked, "How was it?"
"Incredible," House breathed.
"Me too," Wilson echoed. He pulled the condom off and sat up again, looking around for a towel. Nothing but his boxers and House's pajama pants. He got up and picked up both garments, wiping himself off with his boxers. House wasn't moving, lying quietly on his stomach, but Wilson could tell he wasn't asleep. Neither was he in pain though.
Wilson went to the side of the bed House had slept on last night—the side he, Wilson, had just be on—and pushed the covers down.
"Can you roll over?" Wilson asked.
House did, slowly, twist his torso first, then moving his leg, the rest of his body following through as it fell in the space Wilson had created for him. Wilson gave him the boxers and he wiped himself up. Wilson could see tiredness and pain in his face, but also the remnants of bliss. He moved the covers out from under House's feet and tossed them to him. House let them lie where they fell, still enveloped in post-coital satisfaction.
Wilson got the towel he'd worn to answer the door earlier and spread it on what was becoming his side of the bed—the side with all the semen stains, he thought, thanks House. He made a note to do laundry tomorrow. Right now he was too tired and too sated. He lay down on his stomach, head facing House, who was clearly in pain.
Wilson wanted to say something. Something like 'we'll have to find a new position.' But House looked like he didn't want to hear anything right now.
Wilson was nearly asleep, drowsy and happy, but he had to know if his partner was all right.
"Okay?" Wilson asked, his face mashed against the pillow, speaking in shorthand.
"It'll kick in a minute," House said. Wilson could hear how sleepy he was too. "That was amazing, Jimmy," he murmured.
"You've got to try it the other way," Wilson said. "I haven't been in anything so tight…"
"You felt huge," House said.
Wilson's ego doubled in size on the spot. He grinned stupidly. "Sore?"
"Yeah," House said. "The good kind of sore."
"My pleasure," Wilson said. He pushed himself up. "Think you can sleep?"
"Oh yeah," House said. "Turn the light off."
Wilson leaned over to do that. If he'd had his mind with him, he would have made another mental note to get a lamp for his side of the bed so he wouldn't be leaning over House all the time.
"Let me know," Wilson said when he'd settled back down on his stomach. He didn't have to say anything more. House knew what he meant.
Minutes later, Wilson was asleep. Minutes after that, House joined him.
