Title: Just One Kiss
Authors: Creedcascade & SassyInkPen
Author's Note: This is the first of many stories to come 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: When House decides he wants something... or someone, he gets it.
Just One Kiss
By Creed & Sassy
Tuna fish...green salad... milk. So practical, Jimmy. He watched the impossibly young looking med student work his way through the cafeteria line and pay for his food. Picking up his own tray, he sailed through the line, reaching around and over people to snag a couple slices of pizza, an apple and two huge sugar cookies heavily frosted with autumn leaves and footballs.
A quick scan of the room showed him where James Wilson of the Boring Tuna had gone to eat. Passing a slew of empty tables, he kept going until he was towering over the object of his interest. "Hi!" he said way too brightly, "Is this seat taken?"
The startled brunette blinked up at him, then glanced around at the sea of empty chairs. "Um, no... Don't I know you?"
"Comparative Anatomy Class," he answered, sitting down opposite Wilson. "I was surprised to see a first year in that class."
"I got a variance," Wilson told him, still bewildered. "You're, um… House."
"Greg," he offered, picking up the uneaten half of tuna sandwich and giving it a disgusted look. He tossed it toward the garbage can in a graceful arc, missing by six inches and hitting the wall with a dull splat.
"Hey," groused Wilson, "I was eating that..."
House shook his head and picked up one of the cookies, dropping it unceremoniously on top of Wilson's salad. "If you're going to be a med student, you're gonna need to learn to live off a diet of sugar and beer."
“When I’m doing my residency, I’m going to face long gruelling, sleep deprived days,” Wilson snapped back and glared at the cookie on his salad. He picked it up and laid it down on his cafeteria tray with a disgusted look on his face. “That’s all the more reason I should eat properly. Which includes avoiding sugar and alcohol.”
“Eat your fucking cookie,” House said and took a large bite of his own.
Wilson reached up to scratch the back of his neck. “I’m not going to eat that cookie.”
“Whaaat? It’s not like it’s covered in salad dressing or anything,” House snorted. He poked the cup of salad dressing on Wilson’s tray. “You’re too much of a good boy and always ask for it on the side. Oh, c’mon Jimmy. Live a little... be all wild ‘n’ crazy! Eat the cookie.”
“Don’t call me Jimmy,” Wilson sighed. “It’s James… James Wilson. And I guess the rumours about you were all true.”
“Oh?” House looked interested and raised an eyebrow. “Rumours? I like rumours. Is it the one about me and the cheerleaders? Or the one about me and the rugby team? Or, my personal favourite, the one about me and the cadaver-”
“House…” Wilson cut him off. He looked down at the table and felt his ears burning. Quickly, Wilson reached out and grabbed the cookie, eating it in three big bites. He looked up at House with a triumphant gleam in his eyes and swallowed the last of it.
House smirked. "Smug works a whole lot better if you don't have frosting and crumbs all over your face," he said, reaching across to wipe an orange smear off Wilson's lower lip. He stuck his thumb in his mouth and sucked the frosting off it with a little more enthusiasm than was really required. Wilson blushed and averted his eyes, busying himself with a napkin, and dressing his salad.
House stood up and gathered his bag. "I like a man who eats dessert first," he said with a leer. "By the way, if you'd like help studying for the anatomy class, I'll be in the library most of the evening."
Wilson swallowed a mouthful of greens and stammered, "Thanks, but I've got a fraternity meeting tonight."
“I took you for a geek, James, but not a Greek,” House said. He sat back down in his chair and shook his head. “I hate Frat Boys.”
“Well, then I guess you hate me,” Wilson answered. At House’s doubtful look, Wilson’s back stiffened in the chair and his chin lifted more proudly. “I didn’t ask you to sit with me.”
“No, you didn’t.” House took in Wilson’s little snit and smiled. “And you’re not a frat boy, James. No matter what you say. Did you join to get at all those pretty sorority girls?”
“No… I’m a third generation legacy,” Wilson said. It was crazy that he felt this need to justify his life and decisions to this man, but still he did it. “It will teach me leadership skills and… there’s a large charity component.”
“Uh huh. Sounds like a bunch of bullshit to me. Skip your frat meeting and study with me tonight,” House insisted. His brows narrowed and he was starring intently at the younger man.
Wilson turned back to his salad. "I can't do that."
"Come oooon..." chided House.
"Nope, sorry," said Wilson, shaking his head and spearing another forkful of lettuce.
House stood up. "You'll regret it," he said with a grin. "You'll be sitting in that meeting and you'll start thinking of me and all that you're missing... and you'll kick yourself. Mark my words."
Wilson gave him a wry look, "Yeah... okay. I'll do that."
House smirked and walked away.
“Next order of business?” The head of the fraternity asked the room full of his fellow brothers.
“Kegger!” One of the fourth year members yelled out.
“All in favour?” The head of the fraternity smirked and banged down his gavel after he was greeted with a loud round of agreement.
Wilson was sitting in a corner and kept silent the entire time. The meeting had lasted ten minutes and dealt with frivolous fraternity business, but not the community service or tradition he expected. This was all just another reason to party. He didn’t want to drink… Not when he could be spending time studying… with Greg House. He was startled out of his brooding when he felt someone slap him on the shoulder.
“Brother Wilson! You look like you don’t want to be here.” It was Jason, the upperclassman who had been in charge of him when he was a pledge. The man had made his life hell and enjoyed it the entire time.
“Umm, hey,” Wilson said and tried to paste a fake smile on his face. “Of course I want to be here. I just… have a lot of work to do.”
“You haven’t changed, Jimmy,” Jason snorted with distain. “Still stuck up.”
“James…” Wilson corrected quietly. He was trying to remember that he was no longer a pledge. He was a junior member of the fraternity and a full brother. The music was already starting to blare loudly from somewhere in the house. “I have to go.”
"No, no, no..." grinned the boy, clapping an arm around Wilson's shoulders. "It's way too early for that. We've got all kinds of great shit planned for tonight. Kind of a big welcome for all the new members. You have to stay."
Wilson nodded reluctantly and someone thrust a plastic cup of some kind of punch into his hands. It was sweet and cold, and Wilson drank it down to hide his real feelings about the party. No sooner had he finished it, than someone else was pushing another at him. His head swam vaguely and he allowed Jason to drag him through the house, introducing him to people, and making the rounds.
Wilson wasn't sure if it was the alcohol or the party itself, but the volume level in the room seemed to noticeably increase at regular intervals, and the crowd was getting rowdier. People were pushing and prodding each other, and most stories required a hand on your shoulder and a minimum of personal space.
Somehow the room was spinning just a little too much and he felt unbalanced. Jason pushed him up against a wall and he heard other upperclassmen laughing. They laughed even harder when Jason peeled off Wilson’s tie and dangled it in front of his face.
“Give it back,” Wilson demanded with a slur to his voice.
“Don’t think so...little brother.” Jason slammed Wilson even harder against the wall. “We never should’ve let you into our fraternity. Only reason we did is because your daddy made a few phone calls.”
“That’s not true…” Wilson tried to deny, even though he had his suspicions. He had the grades and pedigree, but lacked the social skills to make it on his own. He might have done all right, but his father couldn’t leave that to chance.
“Maybe it’s about time you learned your place around here, Jimmy... What do you think boys?”
"Oh...come on now..." drawled Daniel. He was one of the seniors and had pledged Wilson. "I didn't put him up just because his daddy wanted me to...."
Wilson turned toward him with a grateful look and a silent plea for help. Daniel stepped forward and nudged Jason out of the way, smoothing Wilson's jacket.
"No..." he said, meeting Wilson's eye. "I have my own reasons." He pinned Wilson to the wall with one hand and started rubbing his groin with the other. A malicious grin spread across his face. "We're gonna have some fun..."
“S-Stop it!” Wilson snapped, despite the shock. He immediately started to struggle, feeling disgusted with the strange touch.
Jason decided to help and used Wilson’s tie to bind his wrists together. “That should hold’im, Daniel.”
“Thanks, Dude,” Daniel said. He continued to rub Wilson through his slacks and smirked when the younger man started to respond. “He likes it!”
“Stop...” Wilson begged now, shaking his head. “I don’t...”
“Shut up,” Daniel cut him off and popped the button on Wilson’s slacks. “I knew the first time I saw you that you’d be a bitch for shit like this.”
"Bitch?" stammered Wilson, managing to yank one of his wrists out of the poorly knotted tie. "What do you mean?"
He tried to shove at the boys, and get past them, but they were too strong. There were too many hands to grab and hold him. One set pushed him back against the wall, while another pulled his arms together again, tying them more tightly this time.
To his embarrassment, Wilson noticed that a crowd of jeering frat boys had gathered around them, making rude comments and suggestions that made his skin crawl. He was still afraid to struggle too much. These were his fraternity brothers, surely they wouldn't really hurt him? It must be a prank or a holdover from hazing. He'd seen them do this to other guys...
House looked at his watch just as the pizza delivery guy pulled in front of the fraternity house. He straightened up from where he had been leaning against his motorcycle and waited as the kid got out of the old beater.
“You’re late,” House pointed out. “The pizza’s free.”
Dressed in some gaudy polyester uniform, the kid pulled out half a dozen boxes. “What? No way, man.”
“I called at exactly nine o’clock,” House insisted and looked down at his watch again. “It’s past ten o’clock now. Do I need to call your manager?”
The kid had been expecting a bunch of drunken frat boys who tipped well for their greasy snacks and never cared when they got there. “Listen, I’m already in trouble with my boss…”
“Give me the pizza for free and I’ll forget this ever happened. Deal?”
The kid sighed and handed over the boxes. “You’re a real, asshole, you know that?”
“Thanks,” House answered with a smile. He headed towards the house with bribery in hand. The goon guarding the door would get something and House would slip in to get who he wanted.
It wasn't nearly as difficult to crash a frat party as he'd imagined. The guy at the door was already half in the bag, and far more interested in getting into the pants of the coeds hanging around him like groupies. House abandoned the stack of pizzas on a dining room table littered with beer cans, bottles of booze and empty glasses. Finding a clean one, he poured himself a drink and started to wander the rooms, scanning the faces for Wilson.
He was drawn naturally to the area that seemed to have the most commotion, and nearly dropped his glass when he found the object of his search pinned to the wall and being thoroughly debauched. "Oh you naughty, naughty frat boys," he muttered.
Leaning against the doorframe, he sipped his drink nonchalantly, watching the scene. It might have been fun to let them go on since Wilson made such a pretty picture, all flushed and pissy like that, except that it was clear that he was in real distress. Besides...it would be more fun to debauch him personally.
House slipped a hand into his jeans pocket and grabbed the slim bottle he'd brought with. What was intended to be a prank, was now going to save their bacon. He polished off his drink and then opened the bottle discreetly, tipping about thirty tiny pills into his hand. Moving casually, he wandered around, dropping them into every drink that seemed to have a frat boy attached to it.
It was amusing to watch the hands that had been groping Wilson get more and more careless. As they polished off their drinks, the frat boys' speech quickly began to slur and they started to stumble. Passing out one by one, they left a confused and flushed Wilson leaning against the wall.
House stepped over a few of the unconscious frat boys to stand in front of Wilson. “Well, that’s an interesting side effect,” he chuckled.
“Greg?” Wilson croaked and blinked owlishly at him. “Wha-”
“Rescuing your pretty ass,” House cut him off. He reached out and grabbed Wilson’s wrist, pulling him away from the wall. “And we gotta get out of here, just in case I didn’t get every one of these Neanderthals.”
Wilson looked around and his brows knitted in annoyance. “What did you give them?”
Putting his arm around Wilson’s waist, House started to manoeuvre him towards the front door. “Doesn’t matter. All that matters is that it worked.”
“Someone could get hurt…”
“Yeah, someone almost got hurt...you,” House reminded him. “Or least your virtue. Unless you want me to leave you here?”
"No..no, it's just..." Wilson glanced around them nervously, letting House steer him toward the door.
Sometime later, after protests about the motorcycle, an argument over helmets, and some debate as to where they were going next, House finally confessed to just what he'd done in order to rescue Wilson.
"You put Rohypnol in their beer?" Wilson asked him incredulously, stopping in the middle of the stone steps leading up to House's apartment building.
"You drugged a whole fraternity..."
"No." House shook his head.
Wilson raised an eyebrow and pointed back in the vague direction of the frat house.
House made bug eyes at him. "There's you. You're a member of the fraternity. Therefore, I did not drug a whole fraternity." He smirked and added, "Plus there was that guy puking in the bathroom. I didn't consider him a threat, and there's no point in wasting good drugs."
Wilson buried his head in his hands. "Do you have any idea how much trouble we're gonna be in?"
"None." House grinned.
"How do you figure?" A note of frustration crept into Wilson's voice.
House turned to him. "Do you really think a bunch of burly frat guys are going to go barreling down to campus police and admit that the pizza guy slipped them all date-rape drugs and made off with the guy they were planning to violate?"
"No..." Wilson said, "What they're gonna do is take it out on me."
"No. See, they're afraid of you now. They have no idea what hit them, they only know you're connected. They're like a tribe of really big pygmies," House told him. "If they try to hassle you in the halls, just wiggle your fingers all weird. They'll think you control the sun and run away in fear."
“That was racist,” Wilson accused automatically.
“To the frat boys?”
Wilson shook his head. “No, to the...pygmies.”
“Well, I’ll apologize to the next pygmy I see, okay? It really was an insult to compare them to frat boys. And I’m not a racist, I hate everyone equally…”
“You don’t hate me,” Wilson said, shifting from foot to foot. He had a suspicion that once he crossed the threshold to House’s apartment, he was in over his head.
House opened the door and gently shoved Wilson inside. “What makes you think that?”
Wilson stumbled a little, but House was there to steady him, even though he was the one who shoved him. “You saved me...”
"That was purely for nefarious purposes," House told him, depositing him on the couch and going into the little kitchenette. He yanked open the fridge, "Want a beer?"
"No thanks," said Wilson, holding up a hand, "I think I've had more than enough already."
House threw his bottle cap in the sink and came into the room, swigging beer. He dropped onto the couch and propped his feet up on the battered coffee table. He eyed Wilson for a long moment, then said, "Well...you're the one who told me fraternity was
all about "service"..."
Wilson felt his ears and cheeks burn with a blush. He nervously scrubbed at the back of his neck. “I’m not going to laugh at your double entendre.”
“Oh...big words,” House chuckled and took another long swig of his beer. “You trying to win me over with your brains?”
“I’m not trying to win you over at all,” Wilson insisted. He shifted in his seat and scootched away from House. “You wanted to study, right? Now, we can study.”
“Study...” The word rolled off House’s tongue with distain and he moved over into the empty space Wilson left until their thighs were pressing together. “Nah, I don’t think so. Wanna play doctor instead?”
"Wha-" Wilson turned and stared at him with wide eyes. "You just drugged a bunch of people and pissed off a whole fraternity to stop that kind of thing!"
"Well, that's because they weren't me...." House leaned closer and met Wilson's gaze. "Duuuh!"
Wilson gave him a withering look. "Quit fooling around."
"I'm not fooling around...yet," said House with a leer.
"I'm not even like that," protested Wilson, pushing him away slightly.
House caught his wrist and pulled him close again, "The hell you're not, you're the gay poster boy."
“I’m not gay,” Wilson insisted and yet he wasn’t struggling to get away from House.
“Call it whatever you want. I think denial is cute.” House leaned in and wrapped one arm around Wilson’s waist. The blue eyes were sparkling mischievously and with something else Wilson wanted to pretend he didn’t see.
Wilson swallowed thickly and looked down at House’s scruffy chin… anything to avoid looking into those eyes. “Please...Greg. I’m not gay. There’s nothing about me that’s gay.”
“Sure...” House nodded and leaned closer. Wilson thought House was going to kiss him, but House seemed to be content with just sniffing him for the moment. “What about the ties?”
“Ties?” Wilson blinked in confusion.
“Your ties,” House clarified and smiled. “The gayest things I’ve seen in a long time.”
Wilson furrowed his brow. "Ties aren't gay. Ties are as straight as it gets. Ties are bankers and lawyers and...and doctors."
"I'm a doctor, and I'm gay," House pointed out, pressing his lips to the base of Wilson's throat and mouthing it softly.
"You're not really a doctor, yet," Wilson squeaked, trying to crawl backwards over the arm of the couch.
"And you're not really straight," said House, pulling him back. House wrangled Wilson into his lap and locked an arm around the younger man’s waist.
“You don’t know anything about me!” Wilson said, trying to ignore the way his voice cracked near the end.
House’s free hand moved down and began to massage Wilson’s groin through his pants. “I know you’re as hard as a rock right now, Jimmy...for me.”
“It’s a natural reaction,” Wilson tried to protest. “And don’t call me Jimmy.”
“I know you’ve always been the perfect little boy, Jimmy,” House said. He leaned in again and started to nuzzle Wilson’s throat. “Never one to cause problems. Always did what you were told with a smile. Is that what it takes? Do you need me to tell you what to do?”
"No," snapped Wilson.
House raised an eyebrow and cocked his head with a knowing, but somewhat surprised leer.
Wilson squeezed his eyes shut and pushed House's face away from him. "I mean that you don't need to show me anything, because we're not doing anything." He pried himself off the couch and staggered toward the door.
House was right behind him, spinning him around and backing him up to the wall. "One kiss," he said, pressing his body hard against Wilson's and reaching up to catch his face. "One kiss and then you can go."
Wilson barely had time to catch a breath before House's lips crushed his own. There was no time to think, only react. He felt House’s hand work into his hair, holding him still as he ravished his mouth. House had said one kiss, but he hadn’t said it would be like this. No sweet, cajoling kiss… House was kissing him like the man owned him.
House waited for the moment when Wilson opened his mouth to protest, and slipped his tongue deep inside. As they continued to kiss, he reached down and grabbed Wilson’s ass, pulling them tight together. When House pulled away, his eyes were wide open. He smiled when he saw Wilson’s eyes were closed and the younger man leaned forward to follow his departing lips.
“You can go now,” House said. He didn’t take his hand off Wilson’s ass, but started to massage it instead.
Wilson blinked. “Huh?”
“You can go,” House repeated. “That was the deal.”
"Um... oh, right," Wilson said, casting about to get his bearings. He was stunned by the kiss and bewildered by House in general. He'd never felt so off balance in his life. "You...you're probably gonna need to let go of my ass then."
"Oh," grinned House, "Good thought." He stepped back, holding his hands up, giving Wilson just enough space to squeak by.
Wilson swallowed hard, and glanced up at House a few times. Finally, he set his jaw and nodded. "All right...Okay, then..." he muttered, taking a few tentative steps toward the door. House watched him, grinning amiably each time he glanced back. "Another time, then."
It was as if the whole scene were taking place in slow motion. All the while, Wilson was still trying to figure out what had happened, and what the hell he was doing. He'd taken one step across the threshold when he felt a hand clamp down on his shoulder and pull him back.
"You ninny," House scolded, eyeing him as if he were crazy. "You'd walk head long into a train of someone said you didn't have the nerve, wouldn't you?"
House gave him a little shove that sent Wilson sprawling on his back across the sofa cushions. Without even breaking stride, House climbed on top of him, settling one thigh between Wilson's legs and flattening out to rake his fingers through his floppy hair. He set right in to mouthing the soft skin of Wilson's neck, muttering, "Stupid twit doesn't even know what's good for him..."
“This...This...” Wilson stammered as he felt House start to suck strongly on his neck, “...can’t be good for me.” He just knew it was going to leave a hickey.
“Oh, it’s very good for you,” House insisted with a particularly hard nip that made Wilson moan. He lifted his head enough to see a dark mark already forming. He had put it high enough on Wilson’s neck that the man would not be able to hide it with his collar. “And I can think of a number of other things that will be good for you, too.”
Wilson quickly realized that House had much more than kissing in mind and he nearly panicked. “This is fine. We can do this...”
House chuckled deeply and started to unbutton Wilson’s shirt. He snuck his hand inside and ran his fingers over Wilson’s nipple, thrilled with the way the man shivered. “How about this?”
“That’s...umm, that’s okay,” Wilson spluttered and squeezed his eyes shut again.
“Just okay?” House undid the rest of the buttons and pulled the shirt free from Wilson’s pants. When Wilson nodded, he smiled again. “Open your eyes, Jimmy.”
“I don’t want to...”
“C’mon, you have to witness your own debauchery,” House said. He moved his thigh now, rubbing it firmly against Wilson’s groin. “It’s only fair.”
Wilson furrowed his brow and looked up House, "I suppose it's useless to point out that this is exactly what you just saved me from at the frat house..."
"Yup," smirked House, leaning harder against Wilson's erection. "It's not the same. That wasn't me, this is."
"Oh, and that's what counts?" Wilson's eyes were shut again, head tossed to the side as he tried to back away from House's touch.
"Yup. Now open your eyes."
Wilson sighed heavily, but he opened his eyes. “This is a one time thing...right?” Wilson asked. When House smirked at him, Wilson’s voice cracked and he asked again. “Right?”
“Sure...” House agreed. It didn’t help that there was no conviction whatsoever behind the promise. He sat up and pulled off his own rumpled t-shirt, tossing it behind the couch.
Wilson reached out a shaking hand and touched House’s chest. “You’re not reassuring me very well.”
“I’m an asshole,” House laughed. He was unbuckling his belt. “Don’t you trust me?”
“No...” Wilson watched as House pulled the belt free from his pants. “What if I said this going too fast?”
"Then you better hang on," House told him. He flexed the belt in his hands thoughtfully, then looked from it to Wilson and back again. "Unless..."
"Oh no," blurted Wilson, eyes wide and trying to scramble off the back of the couch again. "No way. Just...no."
House rolled his eyes. "Re-laax," he said, tossing the belt over his shoulder. Wilson settled back, looking relieved. House added, "I've still got some of the Rohypnol if I really need to keep you in line."
Wilson looked scandalized, "You're certifiable!"
"I'm kidding," House said quickly as he tried to ease a struggling Wilson back down on the cushions. "I don't need that stuff to keep you here..." He settled down on top of Wilson, sighing with pleasure at the touch of bare skin on his torso. Taking a little more
care, he kissed Wilson long and slow, making sure that he really wouldn't want to leave.
House was sure he knew the exact moment when Wilson gave into his desire. He felt the younger man relax beneath him and settle back into the couch, muttering. “I’m not giving into you...”
“Of course not,” House agreed distractedly. He had an intense look in his eyes just like he got when he was learning something new and fascinating about medicine. Except now Wilson was the puzzle. He wanted to investigate and document how Wilson reacted to his every touch. Until this point, Wilson had responded exactly how House wanted him to… falling into his every trap. House’s hand moved to undo the zipper on Wilson’s pants.
“G-Greg?” Wilson asked in a shaky voice.
“It’s okay,” House told him. “Trust me. I’ll never do anything to really hurt you.”
"Yeah. Right," Wilson mumbled, distracted by the hand shoving his pants out of the way. He felt a little silly with them bunched up around his hips in a mess, until House's warm hand closed around his cock and he yelped with surprise.
House paused and blinked at him. "Clearly, you need to get out more..."
Wilson just squeezed his eyes shut and made a pained face. House grinned and started to stroke him slowly, paying close attention to his reactions. Each little gasp or twitch... the barely perceptible rocking of Wilson's hips. What nearly broke House was the small whimper that came from Wilson when he took his hand away. He could push Wilson and get everything he wanted, using his desire against him. But if he did that, House knew Wilson would run far and fast.
Soon he was undoing his own pants and pushing them down. Taking pleasure in Wilson’s hurried breathing, House settled himself down on top of Wilson so their cocks slid tightly against each other, dragging just enough to make them ache with pleasure.
He didn’t miss the increased look of panic in Wilson’s eyes. “Easy...” House hushed in a gravely voice. He thrust carefully against Wilson, digging his fingers into the couch cushion as he tried to control his pace. It felt so good that his body was screaming at him to let go. Instead he vented that need in a long deep moan against the skin of Wilson's shoulder where his head was pressed.
Wilson's hands slid tentatively down his sides and then long fingers curled around to the small of his back. House felt him pull ever so slightly, so soft he would have missed it had he not been paying attention. He responded, putting a little more effort into his thrusts, letting a little more of that urgency spill into his movements. Wilson's head lolled to the side and his mouth fell open. One leg drew up alongside House's hip for leverage, and then Wilson was meeting him thrust for thrust, panting ragged moans.
House noticed that Wilson’s eyes were closed again. “Keep them open,” he demanded.
Wilson’s eyelids fluttered open and locked with House’s hungry gaze, which was daring him to obey. He kept his eyes wide open even as he moaned loudly and came, mouth falling open with inarticulate need. His hand gripped tight onto House’s hip and he continued to thrust.
House leaned in close and kissed Wilson again, then came seconds after. He collapsed down onto Wilson and smiled when Wilson made a protesting sound. Laying his head down on Wilson’s shoulder, he mumbled, “Well, that was fun.”
"Fun?" Wilson groused, searching for a place to put his hands, and finally just allowing them to rest on House's back. "Fun is a word, I guess."
House picked his head up to fix Wilson with a dumbstruck look. "You didn't have fun? Those sure sounded like 'I'm having fun' noises to me. In fact I think you were having so much fun I just might be able to check with the neighbors to see if they think you sounded like you were having fun."
Wilson blushed furiously and shoved House away, squirming out from under him until he could sit up at the end of the couch. "Yes...yes, of course I had fun, I just..." He was tugging at his clothes and surveying the mess he was in. With a despaired little look, he hastily grabbed his shirttail and scrubbed the come from his torso while trying not to think about it too much.
"Just what?" asked House absently as he cleaned himself off with his t-shirt and flung it on top of heap in the corner. When Wilson didn't answer right away he grinned and said, "OH! Oh...I know. You're thinking that here you've had your very first not-gay gay experience, and it should be meaningful. Flowers-'n-sonnets shit with-"
"Has anyone ever told you you're an asshole?" snapped Wilson, standing up and shoving his shirt into his trousers.
"All the time," House answered jovially. He sidled up to Wilson and blew in his ear, saying softly, "Okay...maybe not flowers and sonnets. But how about a goodnight kiss under the porch light when I take you home? That sounds like something you'd go for."
Wilson looked down at the floor and his fingers fumbled with his belt. “Fuck off...”
In that moment, House had enough wisdom to sense that something was seriously wrong. He stepped closer to Wilson and laid his hand on the other man’s shoulder. “Hey...”
“I said fuck off,” Wilson spat again and flinched away from House’s touch.
“James,” House’s tone wasn’t harsh, but firm. He reached out this time and put a hand on the back of Wilson’s neck, angling around in front of him to look him in the eye. “I’m an asshole, okay? Get used to it.”
“I don’t see why I have to get used to it,” Wilson grumbled. “It’s not like this is going to happen again.”
“Maybe not...” House said. His hand was now massaging Wilson’s tense neck. “But figure you might as well at least get used to my stunning wit and malevolent ways.”
“I have to go...” Wilson pulled away from House’s touch.
House flopped down on the couch and grabbed the remote control, turning the TV on to some stupid comedy. “So, I’ll see you Tuesday night, then?”
Wilson turned around and his mouth gapped a little. “Wha-”
“When you come over to study. I happen to know you have that final coming up.” House was already flipping through the channels, not looking at Wilson. “We can order pizza. I know a good place.”
Wilson shook his head. "Unbelievable," he muttered, raking his fingers through his hair to try and neaten it somewhat.
"Are you talking about my detective skills, my keen good looks, or my mastery of just what makes a great date?"
"I'm talking about your complete arrogance," Wilson told him, pulling the door open. House was suddenly right on his heels as he stepped out into the entryway, grabbing his elbow to turn him around.
With one finger pointed toward the ceiling and a giant smirk on his face, House said, "Porch light. I know... it's mine, not yours, but it'll have to do." He pulled Wilson close and kissed him one last time long and slow. When he released him he said, "Tuesday night, then?"
Wilson blinked at him and licked his lips. "I'll... I'll think about it." Then he pulled away and trotted down the steps hastily, needing to put a little distance between him and this lunatic who seemed to know just how to keep him off balance.
House leaned against the doorframe, folding his arms over his chest. "Yes," he grinned, "Yes, you will think about it... every second."