Title: Just For Fun
Authors: creedcascade & sassyinkpen
Sequel to: Just One Kiss
Author's Note: This part of a series of stories that all fall into one epic universe we created for them, short of the real - screwed up - canon. While they are all stand-alones, they will all be based along the same relationship between the two men.
Summary: Wilson gains a little footing while still trying to make sense of the hold House has over him.
Just For Fun
By Creed Cascade and SassyInkPen
Wilson rounded the corner in the hallway while trying to balance a stack of books and dig in his pocket for the keys to his apartment. He was looking down and bumped right into someone.
"Excuse me," he mumbled and tried to grab for the books that were already tumbling off the pile.
House moved quickly and rescued two tomes from dropping to the ground. "Hey, Jimmy. Good to see youíre prepared for our study date."
Wilson eyes snapped up immediately and he felt a drop in his stomach from the way House said date. "House... um, hey. Tonight?"
House nodded and started to flip through the pages of one of the textbooks. "I thought this one was contrived if you ask me. And yes, tonight. Itís Tuesday."
"We never really confirmed anything," Wilson said. He got his keys out of his pocket and stepped past House.
"Thatís hard to do when youíve been avoiding me," House told him, wearing a smug look on his face.
Wilson unlocked the door, avoiding House's gaze. "I haven't been avoiding you," he said, "I've just been really busy. You know... classes, seminars, papers?"
"Frat parties?" grinned House.
"Shut up." Wilson blushed furiously and pushed through the door, leaving it open for House. He dumped his pile of books on the table and set a stuffed backpack on the chair next to it.
"How are the little Neanderthals taking the loss of their prized pig?"
"Better than you," said Wilson with a smug little grin of his own. "At least they've managed to leave me alone and find something else to amuse them."
"Like revenge? Iím brilliant, didnít you know? I doubt they could come up with anything that could even begin to amuse me. But then, I can think of other ways to do that," House said with a hopeful leer and rubbed his hands together.
"House... you really need to stop that," Wilson sighed, but there was a burn of blush on his cheeks. "If weíre going to be friends...we have to put that behind us."
"How about under us? Or you under me?"
"Really, stop it," Wilson warned. He hung up his jacket and moved into the living room. Looking over, he saw House picking up one of his high school awards. He went and pulled it out of Houseís grasp, putting it back exactly where it belonged.
"Chess club award?" House asked with a raised eyebrow.
"Donít start with me," Wilson advised with another long-suffering sigh. "It hones your mental ability. And if youíre so brilliant, then Iíll challenge you to a game some time."
"Mm, I donít know," House answered. He was now examining a portrait of the Wilson family. "Tennis is more my game. Or maybe Twister..."
"Youíd just use that as an excuse to grope me," Wilson chuckled nervously.
"Me?" House tried to look offended and put a hand to his chest. "I swear on my honour that I will never need an excuse to grope you."
Wilson made an indignant noise and snatched the picture out of House's hands as well, rubbing his sleeve over it before putting it back. "You're impossible," he muttered.
"I'm impossible?" blurted House, turning to fix Wilson with an astonished gaze.
The intensity of House's reaction startled Wilson and he took a step backwards. "Um... yeah."
"I'm not the one who can't seem to figure out what the hell he wants." House advanced on him slowly, backing him into the corner. "You're the one running hot and cold like a bad plumbing job. At least I'm up front about what I want."
"I tried to be up front, but you weren't listening," Wilson protested defensively. He pressed himself flat up against the wall as House stepped into what little personal space was left between them.
House rolled his eyes and snorted, "Oh, please. Tell me you didn't want that."
"I didn't want it," Wilson said weakly, colour flushing his cheeks.
"Bullshit." House grasped the edges of Wilson's shirt and pulled it free. He slid one hand up Wilson's chest and the other cupped the stiff erection through Wilson's pants.
"Okay, maybe I wanted it," Wilson admitted in a rush, scrabbling to push House's hands off him so that he could think. He got hold of House's wrists and pried him away. "But, I don't want it now."
House grinned into those flashing eyes. "I think you do."
Wilson pushed him back, holding him at arm's length. "All right... I don't want it like this."
"That I might be able to buy..."
"Well, youíre going to have to buy it," Wilson told him. "Because itís true. Do you want to order that pizza now?"
House let out a long and painful sigh. "Youíve got to be kidding me."
Wilson looked down and then up at House through his bangs. "Are you only afterÖ"
"No," House cut him off, seeing the flash of uncertainty in Wilsonís eyes. If he pushed too hard, then Wilson would snap. "Youíre interesting."
Wilson rolled his eyes. "Is that supposed to be a compliment?"
"Yeah," House insisted. He reached out and unbuttoned only the top button of Wilsonís shirt before he pulled his hand away. "I donít like uninteresting people. They bore me. And Iím dangerous when Iím bored."
"Now I know youíre lying to me," Wilson snorted and laughed nervously. "I know Iím boring."
House looked hurt. "I would never lie to you..."
Wilson cocked his head and raised one eyebrow in disbelief.
"Okay, I would," House admitted. "I did. Or I might have. I don't remember actually..."
"You're not boring," grinned House. "Do I look bored to you?"
"No, you look..." Wilson studied him a minute. "Actually, you look like you slept in your clothes. In fact... is that the same shirt you had on at your apartment?" He made a face. "I really hope you've washed it..."
House looked disgruntled. "If you'd been paying any attention at all, you would have noticed that the ĎWhoí shirt I had on last time was light blue and this one is pale blue. And this one is for ĎSell Outí not-" He was interrupted by the very loud growling of his/stomach.
"When's the last time you've eaten?"
"Before I went to the library to do some research."
"Ah..." House knitted his eyebrows together. "It was light out, I know that."
Wilson poked House in the chest with his index finger. "Which day?"
"I had coffee today," House sighed and grabbed Wilsonís finger. "You want me to pull your finger?"
"Stop trying to change the subject," Wilson huffed at him and pulled his finger out of Houseís grasp. "You donít take care of yourself."
"So, why donít you order a pizza then?" House asked. He patted his stomach and it growled with all the talk of food. If Wilson ordered the pizza, then Wilson could pay for it.
"How about I get you a decent meal?" Wilson offered. The idea of putting some space between them felt like a good plan, and Wilson genuinely believed that House got lost in his own head so deep that sometimes he forgot to take care of himself.
"What? Macaroni Ďní cheese?" House chuckled and trailed after Wilson towards the small galley kitchen. "Beenie weenie?"
"I was thinking more of a grilled chicken salad," Wilson said and opened his fridge. He had to smile when he looked back and saw House making a disgusted face.
"Protein and fiber," House said unenthusiastically. "What are you, a doctor or something?"
Wilson smirked at him over the top of the door, and then started setting ingredients out on the table. House leaned in the doorframe and watched as he sliced up chicken and vegetables efficiently. It occurred to House that Wilson looked happy and rather pleased with himself, and it took him a few minutes to place it. The guy liked taking care of people. As far as House could tell, things were just a little sunnier in Wilson's world now that there was someone to care for. Doctor indeed. No wonder he was so driven.
"Are you gonna let me have a beer with that?" House asked.
Wilson blinked at him. "I don't have any..." he said in a tone that suggested he shouldn't have to explain such a thing.
"I do," grinned House darting over to grab his backpack. He gave it a little rattle and there was a muffled sound of thick glass clanking inside.
"I see," nodded Wilson, "is that your idea of a study aide?"
"Or lube, your choice."
"Iím ignoring you," Wilson said, after his mouth dropped open a little. He looked at the beer. "Itíll be warm."
"Iíll put it in the freezer," House said, taking out four bottles. He opened the freezer and wasnít surprised to see an assortment of frozen vegetables, but not single tub of ice cream in sight. Noticing that Wilson was still glaring at him, he sighed, "Címon, Iíll be good and eat the salad. If. If I can have a beer." Then his smile deepened and he added, "And if you drink one."
"I donít feel like a beer," Wilson told him. He put the finishing touches on the two salads and carried them over to the table. House was looking pointedly at the comfortable couch and television. Wilson gave him a stern look. "We can eat at the table."
"With beer?" House challenged.
Wilson saw he wasnít going to win this argument. Maybe he could curb some of Houseís bad habits with slight compromises. "Fine." Even though he didnít have any napkins, he folded two paper towels under the silverware.
He put a hand on House's shoulder and tried to steer him towards a chair, but House turned on him and snaked his arms around Wilson's waist, pulling him close.
"Hey," groused Wilson, trying to dodge House's teasing licks to his ear. "I thought we agreed on dinner and studying..."
"We will," House murmured against the soft skin of Wilson's neck, "but we have to wait for the beer to chill. I figured it would be quicker if we increased the contrast by getting ourselves all hot and bothered." He straightened up, beaming triumphantly at Wilson. "Plus, the lettuce will seem crisper, and I know you really like crisp lettuce."
Wilson couldn't help but snicker and felt a little more at ease with House cracking jokes. He relaxed a little and dared to look up at House, trying to make some sense of the mixed feelings he got around him.
House grinned back, "Kiss me."
"You want beer or a kiss?" Wilson blurted without thinking.
"I want both," smirked House. "And now I know you're willing to give me a kiss..."
"I like kissing," Wilson said and his face set into a determined soft scowl. He hated how self-satisfied House looked. If the man thought he could manipulate him, then he was wrong. He leaned forward and kissed House firmly. It was awkward kissing someone taller than himself, but he was resolved, and it was pleasurable. Only when he felt Houseís hand tighten on his neck, did he pull away. "I bet your beer is cold now."
Houseís hand was gently massaging Wilsonís neck. "Itís only been a few minutes... probably still warm. And you canít say the food is going to get cold, because itís salad."
"Iím hungry," Wilson told him and pushed him away smoothly. "Sit down and eat. After weíre done, then maybe we can-"
"Fuck?" House cut him off with a hopeful leer.
"T-Talk," Wilson stuttered. "We can talk. Study."
House smirked when Wilson faltered and said blithely, "You say to-mato, I say ta-mato...."
"I say study," Wilson told him resolutely. He took two beers out of the freezer and set them on the table for House to open.
House behaved himself reasonably well throughout dinner, eating all his salad, and even going so far as to lick the plate clean, much to Wilson's chagrin. "You're next, Jimmy."
They cleared the table and covered it again with books, journals and notebooks outlining the various intricacies of anatomy. House brought out the other two bottles of beer and they settled in to study. Wilson was caught slightly off guard by the way House applied himself to the task at hand. Gone were the passes and innuendos, and in their place was the articulate and intelligent man he'd first noticed in class. House was the only one who hadn't looked at Wilson like an alien or sneered at him for taking courses above his level. He was grateful for that and repaid House by soaking up his lessons like a sponge, listening intently to every word.
When the beers were gone and they were both in need of a good stretch, the lecherous, teasing House returned and Wilson found himself on the receiving end of more groping and kissing. Not that he minded all that much, but he was determined to stay in control this time. He was leery of letting House throw him off balance again... that took his mind places he didn't think it should go.
Ducking under House's arm and raking his fingers through his hair to smooth it back into place, Wilson grinned shakily and said, "Wow... it's late. I completely lost track of the time..."
"You know what they say about having fun," grinned House arching an eyebrow. He took a step closer, so Wilson grabbed House's backpack and smacked it up against his chest.
"You'll want to be getting home before it gets too much colder outside," Wilson said, holding the pack there until House took it reluctantly.
"Jimmy... I don't want to be getting home at all..."
"I need you to be getting home. I have a symposium first thing in the morning and I have to present," Wilson told him. "And don't call me Jimmy."
He locked eyes with House nervously for a moment, and then turned and opened the apartment door. Heat spread across his cheeks in a flush as he waited for the reaction that would surely come.
House slung the backpack over his shoulder and picked up the other books he'd left on the table. "Same time Thursday then? We can have fish and some sort of steamed vegetable."
Wilson looked up at House who was grinning amiably. "Are you serious?"
"Yeah," House shrugged, looking a little confused. "Well...you're going to have to work the fish angle, of course. I won't submit willingly."
"You still wanna get together even if we don't... didn't..." Wilson blushed harder, "You know."
House smirked at him, "I told you that I think you're interesting..." He leaned forward and kissed Wilson firmly, then walked out the door, winking over his shoulder.
Wilson double checked the piece of paper again and glanced up at the stately looking building. He remembered being at Houseís apartment after the frat party, but it was all fuzzy. He didnít remember how to get there and certainly not the address. This address was from student records and said this place was Gregory Houseís residence. Maybe House moved at some point and never updated his file.
The place was massive, but looked over grown and slightly neglected. He knew nothing about Houseís family, so it wouldnít surprise him if the man came from an eccentric and affluent family. He took a deep breath and then pressed the doorbell. It dinged off key and kind of ended in what sounded like a dented trumpet. There was no answer, so he tried knocking. He was about ready to knock again when the door flew open and an old woman standing five-foot-nothing glared at him. Her grey hair was over dyed jet-black and she had make-up troweled onto her face.
"Iím not buying any vacuum cleaners," she snapped.
"Iím not selling any vacuum cleaners," Wilson answered immediately and then tried to remember his manners. "Iím not selling anything."
"Youíre not a Bible thumper?" she demanded.
"No, maíam," Wilson assured her. He looked down at the ground and wondered if she was related to House. "Iím looking for House... I mean, Greg."
"Oh... the boy," she huffed and nodded. "Heís out back making a racket."
"Umm, okay," Wilson hesitated for a moment. "Can I see him?"
"Well, you donít look blind, so I would suspect you could." She pointed around the side of the building to an overgrown path. "Follow that around back." With that, she stepped back and slammed the door in his face.
Wilson followed the path and made sure to step over the numerous cracks in the concrete. He followed the noise of some sort of power tool towards the garage and stopped when he saw House. The man was stripped down to his jeans and working on his motorcycle. Houseís face was set in a concentrated scowl as he used a tool Wilson didnít recognize.
Wilson walked slowly up to House and tapped him on the shoulder. House nearly dropped his equipment and looked back quickly at Wilson. Turning it off, he smiled, "Hey, Jimmy. I thought you were that crazy old bitch."
Wilson gestured back at the building. "You mean..."
"I see you met the bat," House laughed. "I put up with her for the cheap rent on the shit-hole over the garage and free use of her baby grand."
"You play the piano?" Wilson asked and then remembered why he was here. He frowned at House. "Never mind that. You missed... I mean, you didnít come by Thursday."
"Oh... I did?" House shrugged and ran a hand through his hair. "What day is it now?"
"Friday," Wilson huffed.
House hooked his thumbs into the belt loops of his jeans. "Did you miss me?"
"No," Wilson retorted. "I just... I was worried something might have happened to you."
"Ah, I see," House nodded and reached out to lay a hand on Wilsonís arm. "Nothing to worry about... Iím alive. I was just at the hospital observing a fetal echocardiography on a mother whose baby has hypoplastic left heart syndrome. Itís a brand new procedure and I found out about it last moment. Just wish they would let me bring popcorn into the theatre..."
"You got to see one of those?" asked Wilson incredulously, forgetting his worry and irritation.
House arched an eyebrow in appreciation, but wasn't very surprised. "You've heard of it," he said. "Itís nothing too exciting like a rare, deadly disease, but itís entertaining enough. "
"I've been reading about its development," Wilson said, eyes wide as he pulled up a box to sit on and looked up at House raptly. "Did they have color Doppler mapping? I suppose not, but that would something to see."
Grinning, House wiped the grease from his hands and turned over a five-gallon bucket, sitting opposite Wilson. He walked him through the entire procedure from start to finish and they spent another fifteen minutes on Wilson's questions and general discussion about the treatment of heart conditions prenatally.
"So..." said House smoothly, noting the lengthening shadows. "Got any plans for tonight? I could make it up to you."
"I have a frat meeting," said Wilson wistfully.
"You're kidding me." House straightened up and glared at Wilson.
"Yup. I'm kidding you."
House smiled at Wilsonís show of backbone. "Youíre trying to punish me for standing you up."
Wilson looked down and then back up at House, his hair partially covering his eyes. "I just want to take advantage of you... for your brain."
"Oh, Jimmy, two jokes in a row," House crowed and mockingly punched Wilsonís arm. "Youíre going to set a dangerous precedent. So, what do you say about us going up to my place..."
"Okay," Wilson agreed too quickly and then added, "To study."
House made a point of leaning over and looked at the ground. "You didnít bring any books."
"Ahh... I assumed you have books," Wilson answered hastily. House still had his shirt off and his attention was drawn to the lean figure. "I remember you have books."
House stood up and looked down at Wilson. He reached out and cupped Wilsonís cheek. "Do you remember my couch?"
"What do you think?" muttered Wilson, suddenly feeling pinned by that gaze.
"I think you two need to be reintroduced..." House hooked a finger in the collar of Wilson's shirt and tugged.
With only a moment's hesitation, Wilson allowed House to pull him up and stood toe to toe with him, breathing hard. "Yeah. Okay," he nodded.
"Okay?" asked House, leaning closer. He arched an eyebrow and studied Wilson with a cocked head.
"You heard me," Wilson stammered, furrowing his brow. This was weird enough without more of House's games.
House shrugged, "I'm just waiting for the part where you say you're kidding me..."
Wilson shook his head. "No joke."
House stood up and reached out to tap the side of Wilsonís head. "See, I knew you were smarter than your average bear."
"Umm, sure..." Wilson muttered and stood up. Despite Houseís assurances that he found Wilson interesting, there was still the doubt. He knew he was boring. He just knew that someone like House would get tired of him sooner rather than later.
"Youíre thinking again, Jimmy." House made a tsking sound. "Youíre thinking about me."
Wilson blinked a few times. House said it which such confident arrogance and yet it was true. "I was just thinking that youíre a pompous ass," Wilson shot back.
House snorted with amusement and leaned forward to wrap his arm around Wilsonís waist. He pulled Wilson in close and rubbed his own rough cheek against Wilsonís clean-shaven one. "And yet youíre here. You like me."
"I donít," Wilson denied instantly.
"Mmm, well you want me," House amended. "You want me to do dirty things to you."
Wilson had just been getting used to the idea of making out on Houseís couch. Now the manís touch and his voice were making him hard right here in the garage. "W-We could kiss," Wilson offered.
"We could," House agreed and nibbled Wilsonís ear. "Or, I could fuck you over my motorcycle..."
Wilson blanched and looked at the bike dubiously. "It's all... greasy...."
"Well, you would be too if I was about to fuck you."
House smirked as Wilson's body jerked with shock, making him squeeze his eyes shut and swallow hard before even attempting to look at House. He finished cleaning his hands and arms off, and kicked a couple loose tools back toward the pile on the floor. "Come on, Opie," he said, resting a hand on Wilson's shoulder. "Letís go inside and I'll fix you some milk and cookies."
Wilson looked outside the open garage door out of a growing new habit to make sure no one was around when House touched him. Rationally, he knew the only person who could see them would be the old lady, but still there was that underlying paranoia. She might see. She might tell someone. In Houseís apartment, they would be sheltered from prying eyes. After what happened in the Fraternity House, he would never be misjudged again. Those men, and even House, had taken him for something... for someone he wasnít. House really needed someone to watch out for him, or people would think that about him as well.
"Yeah, letís go up to your place," Wilson agreed. He felt Houseís hand move from his shoulder to slide down his back. Pulling away quickly, he headed for the stairs.
House watched Wilson walk ahead of him and shook his head. Something was rattling around inside of Wilsonís head, and like any good problem, House wanted to understand it. It was one of the reasons he liked Wilson. On the surface he was perfect. A good looking med student without so much as a parking ticket. House had checked. James Wilson was squeaky clean. But House could see the contradictions Wilson tried to hide. The streak of vanity, selfishness, and most interesting of all, the suspicion of nearly everyone. It was the flaws that intrigued him. He wanted to see how far he could push Wilson.
When Wilson reached the top of the stairs, he tried the knob and found it unlocked, so he pushed the door open and peered inside, waiting for House to catch up to him.
House brushed past him and gave him the universal 'Are you coming in?' head jerk and eyebrow raise, so Wilson went in. He stood just inside for a moment as his eyes adjusted to the dimmer light, then said, "Looks just the same as last time." And it did. Right down to the beer bottles they'd left on the coffee table and the light blue Who t-shirt tossed on the laundry pile. Wilson blushed furiously and wondered suddenly what the hell he thought he was doing.
"Youíre here because you want to be," House told him, poking him in the stomach. "And because Iím hot, of course."
Wilsonís eyes widened a little. "Ahh..."
"Youíre sooo easy to read," House laughed. He flopped down onto the couch and patted the empty space next to him. "You should relax, Jimmy. We could watch a little TV."
Wilson shuffled a little closer and looked down at the couch. "Maybe..."
House reached out and grabbed Wilsonís belt, dragging him down to sit so their thighs were touching. "Youíll like it." With that he reached out and picked up the remote to the VCR.
Wilson considered Houseís smirk and the context of the situation. He had seen that smirk before. "Itís porn, isnít it?"
House snapped his fingers and pouted. "Damn, you guessed."
"No," said Wilson, biting back a smirk of his own. "You're just sooo easy to read..."
The look House flashed him was mild shock mixed with a saucy grin. "Oh, I see what you did there... very clever. Very nice. Just for that, I'm not going to let you see my dirty movies."
"Okay, fine," shrugged Wilson. "What will we do then?"
"Finish what we started the last time we played on this couch," House leered at him, leaning forward for a kiss.
Wilson ducked under his chin and stood up, raking his fingers through his hair. "What you mean 'finish'? I seem to recall a pretty satisfactory conclusion to that last little adventure we had."
"Oh, Jimmy..." purred House arching an eyebrow. "Maybe you do need to watch that film...We were just getting started..."
Wilson coughed and tried to make his voice steady when he spoke. "House, maybe itís time we had a little talk..."
"Oh, no!" House shook his head. He looked longingly at the television and then back at Wilson. "Not Ďthe talkí. I thought we were over this? I know your inner child is a fourteen year old girl, but..."
"So, what if we watch the porn?" Wilson cut him off.
House settled back and spread his legs. Grabbing Wilsonís hand, he laid it on his thigh, pulling him down. "Thatís what Iíve been trying to do for the past few minutes."
Wilson kept his hand there, but imprisoned Houseís hand in his own, even when he tried to pull it away. "No, I mean, what if we watched the porn, then what?"
"Duh, we get off?"
A blush rose on Wilsonís cheek, but he persisted. It was about time he established some ground rules before House got even more uncontrollable. "Iím not gay. I like you... as a friend."
Houseís head fell back onto couch and he could almost hear his dick screaming at him for his taste in men. "Jimmy..."
"Don't Jimmy me, I'm serious," Wilson said with an edge to his voice.
"Then what are you doing up here? What's with the blushing and the furtive looks and the coming all over my couch with a gratified wail?"
"That was..." Wilson choked on his words and turned beet red. "That was just... fooling around. That wasn't... you know."
"Gay?" House prompted.
"No. It was practical."
House considered this a moment. "Practical?"
"Well, yeah," Wilson shrugged, studying the far wall intently. "We both needed... some... release. And we helped each other out..."
"Release," House echoed, chewing his lip and trying for all the world not to bust out laughing. In all actuality, he could see that this line of thinking might work to his advantage somehow, so he didn't try to argue with it. "Yeah. Yeah, I can see that." He grinned and patted the couch cushions. "Well, I could use a little release right now. Scoot on over here, we'll watch some porn and then I'll nail your release right to the mattress."
"You donít understand." Wilson sighed. He didnít want to have push House out of his life. "Iím not gay. I wonít let you... do that to me."
"You mean fuck you?"
Wilsonís eyes narrowed and he turned back to look at House. His temper was rising with the burning blush on his cheeks. "You want to be crass, fine. I donít want you to fuck me. I wonít let you fuck me. You want me to fuck you?"
It was almost like the air in the room changed. Houseís eyes that had been playful, turned heated. "You wonít fuck me."
"Well, you wonít fuck me," Wilson repeated back, this time with less anger. It would be the sensible thing to leave now. Put this all behind him and concentrate on his life as a medical student. House was the ultimate distraction, but also a temptation. This time it was him who made a move. His hand slipped across the couch and lay uneasily on Houseís thigh. "We can do other stuffÖ"
House looked down at the hand in his lap. "Other stuff. Stuff that's not gay..."
Wilson squelched the tiny voice in his head that was pointing out the many flaws in his logic. It was easier than he thought. This would work. A few simple rules and they could have what they both wanted in a way he could live with. "Yeah," he said, moving closer, "Other stuff."
House was already turning to snake an arm around his neck and pull him in for a kiss. Wilson moaned against his mouth. Now he was completely convinced of these ideas. They made perfect sense.
"Stuff like kissing?" House asked between kisses. He was starting to unbutton Wilsonís shirt and his mind was already plotting ways to push Wilsonís rules. The other manís self-appointed delusions would keep Wilson by his side. They would follow the "rules" for a few weeks tops before he had Wilson begging to be taken.
"Kissing is fine," Wilson mumbled.
"Itís not too gay?" House gently bit Wilsonís ear lobe.
"House..." Wilson said in a warning tone, but stopped any further complaint when Houseís hand found its way to his crotch. "Thatís good, too. More than acceptable."
"Oh... so that's acceptable now?" House grinned and kissed Wilson's neck. "That's progress. In fact, I'd say you're making remarkable strides, young Jimmy."
"House," Wilson repeated, adding further stress to his protest. "If you're just going to tease me, I'll leave, you know."
"Now, come on," said House looking up him with mock indignation. "I'm only trying to be a responsible date, carefully learning and recording all your various boundaries in a calm and respectful manner."
Wilson burst out laughing at the word "respectful", and let his head fall back against the cushion of the sofa.
House cleared his throat. "May I please have permission to unzip your pants now?"
A fit of giggles fully overcame Wilson, so that every time he opened his mouth to answer, he broke down laughing again.
"I was right when I said your inner child was a fourteen year old girl," House sighed and rolled his eyes. Wilson made him smile and there was very little in his life that could make him do that. When he cracked a smile, it made Wilson laugh even harder. "I really could just turn on the porno and take care of myself. Thatís your first warning..."
Wilson bit his lip and tried to get his breathing under control. "Oh, you could... but that would just be punishing yourself."
"Good point," House agreed. His hand reached out for Wilsonís pants, attacking the zipper. "And really, what was I thinking? Asking permission? Not very House-like."
"No, not at all. And thereís nothing House-like..." He had to stop when he felt Houseís cold hand grasp his cock. "I mean, other than being a complete bastard."
"You must be a masochist." House was only half joking when he said that. He gave Wilsonís cock a hard squeeze, cataloguing the responses for later. "Being friends with me..."
Wilson groaned loudly and slid a little further down on the sofa. "I'm philanthropic. For our community service projects, we all had to choose a high-risk or special-needs group to devote our volunteer hours to. I figured you qualified as both."
House's mouth dropped open. It wasn't all that easy to tell when Wilson was kidding, and then when he was it always took House a little by surprise anyway. "Then you'd better be prepared to work long and hard, my friend, because I'm no easy project."
"I'm already well aware of that," panted Wilson. He threaded his arms around House's neck and pulled him down for a sloppy kiss. "And I'm also already hard..."
Wilson snickered and pressed his hips into House's hand.
House knew then he had won another battle and he intended to win the war. This guilt ridden, messed up man hiding behind the social mask of preppy, yuppie, wannabe was even more of a challenge now that Wilson had set they "rules".
It wasn't as if he needed James Wilson, he told himself. Because Gregory House didnít need anyone. He would just keep Jimmy around for an amusement and a distraction when medicine couldnít fully occupy his mind. That was all. He was convinced - when he got bored with Wilson, he would move on and never look back. But for now, he would push Wilson... test him... caress him....