(no subject)
Title: Crack should always be written in pink
Author: chi
Rating: PG-13 for boys kissing
Disclaimer: They totally don’t belong to me and that makes me sad.
Author’s notes: Um. I’m sorry.
Fandom: House
Pairing: House/Wilson
Apparently I can only write slash when I’m subbing at elementary school. There’s something inherently wrong with that. This is for
princess_bunny because she wrote me funny and pretty Padackles RPS slash I apologize to everyone for this horrible fic because, yeah. Just read the first paragraph.
Oh yeah, this is what Cameron is wearing. Now if only I could get the other boys into their clothes.
Before I forget, thanks to
vonilyn for the beta because she rocks. And
lucia_tanaka because without her, I wouldn’t have a clichéd simile.
Summary: House a la really badly written old school Private Eye
It was going to be one of those days; he could feel it in his bones. One of those really hot days where you could scramble an egg on the sidewalk and have some bacon and hash browns on the side. Where ice cream could melt in sixty seconds flat, a gooey puddle of cream and sugar all over your fingers that taunted you with sweet goodness. A day where the sun beat down mercilessly and offered no respite except for artificially cooled buildings filled with artificial people.
Gregory House hated days like this. Gregory House hated all days but that was beside the point. He hated these types of days more. House sat at his desk, looking out the window. He had a feeling, a horrible feeling that things would change - for good or bad, he didn’t care. He hated change in all forms; they had a tendency to ruin his perfectly miserable existence. And anything that did that deserved to be ridiculed and then ignored. The feeling grew stronger until he couldn’t fight it anymore. He turned his chair back to his desk and picked up his cards, settling back into his game of solitaire.
Hmm, red queen on black king.
And then he walked into the room.
He was immaculately dressed in a black suit tailored to accentuate his curves and garnished with an ugly green tie. Baby-soft brown hair and wide brown eyes framed his boyish face. House’s gaze traveled past full lips and a well-defined torso, lingered on a nice package, traveled down long legs to shiny shoes he could almost see his face in.
“Are you Gregory House?” his soft tenor filled the room and House knew this man would be trouble.
House nodded, setting down his deck of cards. “That’s what it says.” He nodded towards his glass office door.
The young man took a hesitant step closer. “I - I hear you help people.”
“I do a lot of things… if the price is right.” The man blushed. Cute and really naïve. Just how I like them, House thought.
The man ran his hand through that luxurious hair and House’s hand twitched (Focus House, remember what happened the last time you thought with Mr. Happy). “I’m in trouble and don’t know what to do.”
House nodded and resisted the urge to roll his eyes. The guy was cute but he needed to get to the point. “Any specific trouble or just your average ‘my luck sucks’ spiel Mr. …”
“Wilson,” he said breathlessly. “Jimmy Wilson. And my trouble has a source.” He hesitated. “Someone is trying to kill me.”
Wow, what a shocker. Why is it always boring. “What makes you say that?” House leaned back, propping one leg up on his desk and then gently moved the other on top.
“The fact that I’ve almost died three times is a pretty good indication,” Wilson snapped and damn, House wanted to jump his bones because a snappy Wilson was a hot Wilson. But he was a professional and he wouldn’t.
Yet.
“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to do that. I’m just a little on edge.” Wilson licked his lips. House unconsciously mimicked him. “Maybe this was a mistake.”
House sighed, sensing his next meal was about to walk out the door. “Hold on.” He quickly and a little painfully, he might add, got his legs off the desk and stood up. Grabbing his silver-handled cane, he limped over to Wilson. “I can help but specifics would be good.”
But Wilson was staring at his leg. “Oh, you’re hurt.”
“I can still do my job,” House snapped.
Wilson looked at House. “What? Oh, that’s not what I meant. I was just surprised. I didn’t mean to offend you.” He looked at House with those damn puppy dog eyes and House knew this would be bad.
Wilson looked down shyly then looked at him through his eyelashes. “I think,” he said in that hesitant, breathy tone, “I’d like your help.”
Oh he was in some deep shit.
House nodded but didn’t move, staying close to the younger man.
“Tell me what happened.” He quickly grabbed Wilson’s arm and led him to the chair. Perching on the desk, he tried to listen seriously. Yeah, right.
****
“Let me get this straight,” House said as he leaned back into his really comfy chair. “First, a dog that was left at your doorstep bit you and gave you rabies, which would have killed you but you managed to get treatment in time.” Wilson nodded. “Then you suspect a stuffed bear got you sick, which also would have killed you had you not be diagnosed quickly.” He nodded again and House couldn’t help but think of him as an over eager puppy. He really needed to focus. “After that, you suspect someone was poisoning you with gold and you almost died again but realized what was happening and went to the hospital.” House looked at Wilson incredulously. “What are you, a doctor?”
“Actually, yes. That’s why I recognized all the symptoms.”
“Oh.” Just his luck, this one had brains. House didn’t mind brains, in fact he preferred them. Nothing was more boring than an airhead. Oh they were great to look and usually fabulous in bed. Like that one time with what’s her name - Candy or Carmen. Now she was good.
House was pulled back to the present as Wilson asked, “But do you believe me? That someone is trying to kill me?”
“No. You just have incredibly bad luck with animals.”
Wilson’s face fell and House sighed.
“Yes someone is trying to kill you.”
“But you said -”
“I know what I said.” House rubbed his eyes. He hated repeating himself. Maybe this one didn’t have that many brains after all. He definitely was pretty to look at though. “Your father recently died, leaving you with quite the inheritance, but your evil sister wants it all for herself. Am I warm?”
Wilson gaped at him. It really was cute. “How did you know?”
“Your tasteful suit says, ‘I’m in mourning yet still stylish’ while your shoes are screaming ‘I just got a lot of money.’ That and there’s an article about your family in the paper.”
“Oh.” He sounded almost … disappointed.
“What?”
“Well, aren’t you going to, you know.” Wilson looked up at him.
The pale sunlight caressed his face, highlighting the previously unseen golden highlights in his hair. House bit back his retort, struck by the sheer prettiness. “No, I don’t. That’s why I’m asking.”
“Gather clues, get evidence, talk to shady characters?”
House shrugged. “What am I, a trained monkey? Why would I do that? I solved the case. I take all forms of payment: Visa, MasterCard, sexual favors.”
And then he did it. It couldn’t be what he thought it was. Grown men just didn’t do that sort of thing! It was juvenile and totally hot. Damn it, no one should look that hot while pouting. Totally not fair.
“Fine. I’ll go search in the seedy underbelly of society.” He stood up and walked to his door. “But I want extra and you’re coming with me.”
Wilson smiled softly and stood up. “Thanks.”
House tried to pretend he wasn’t melting inside. Jimmy’s chocolate brown eyes looked at him with gratitude, something House hadn’t seen in longer than he could remember. When Jimmy looked at him like that, he realized that he was wrapped around this man’s pinky finger. And he didn’t mind it.
Yep, deep shit.
****
House and Wilson arrived at the Princeton-Plainsboro Teaching School for Young Adults. House affectionately called it Hooker High. Stacy Warner, an “old friend” of House, ran the school and managed the extra-curricular activities on the side. They walked into the smoke filled room where students were putting their lessons to the test on paying customers.
A gorgeous vision in tight leather pants that left nothing to the imagination and an open leather vest showing off a hairless chest greeted them at the door. The nubile young man peered at House from under blonde bangs and gave him a sultry smile. “Well, look what the cat dragged in. Welcome back, Greg.” He put an arm around House’s waist. “And who is your lovely friend? Will he be joining us tonight?”
Wilson blushed and House scowled.
“Not for you Sugar. Be a good boy and find your mommy.” He slapped him on the ass and sent him on his way.
“Who was that?” Wilson’s eyes followed the tight ass as he wove his way through the room.
House grinned. “That was Sugar, also known as Robert Chase. One of Stacy’s more … talented students.”
“Know this from personal experience.”
House smirked. “Wouldn’t you like to know. He likes to hang out with a trio and where Sugar is, there’s sure to be -”
“Well well, if it isn’t House. I thought you weren’t allowed back in here anymore after what happened last time.” A dark-skinned man crossed well-muscled arms over his chest. He was dressed in blue jeans that had to have been spray-painted on and a tight white tank that only accentuated his musculature. House allowed his eyes to travel up the built body appreciatively. You could see he was one of those guys who knew he looked good and showed it off but would act all modest about it even as he flexed subtly. It was a fine sight.
An elfin girl wrapped her arms around House’s waist and laid her head delicately on his shoulder. Her long brown hair framed a round face and stormy eyes. However Wilson was apparently more interested in her leather strapless bra and short black miniskirt. House knew from personal experience that her ‘funbags’ were the real deal, a rarity in these times of saline-filled orifices. “Stacy will let House stay for awhile right? I haven’t seen him in so long and I’ve been so lonely.” Her fingers traced idle patterns on his arm.
Wilson shook his head. “Last time?”
“Long story. Tall, black and handsome over there is Spice and this,” he said, gesturing to the girl looking affectionately up at him, “sweet number is Everything Nice.” House paused. “But I usually call them Foreman and Cameron.”
Foreman threw up his hands. “House! You can’t go around giving out our real names!”
House was saved from answering by Chase. Everyone turned to stare as he walked over, mesmerized by the sway in his thin hips. “Stacy’s decided to see you.” He smirked and House resisted the urge to pounce like a hungry lion pacing the bars of its cage, eyeing a steak. No one should be allowed to be that pretty. Except maybe Wilson. “You owe me.” With a wink, he left, Foreman and Cameron following him. House blatantly stared at their perky behinds.
“There go some fabulous asses.”
Wilson rubbed his eyes. “How can he walk in those pants?”
“Practice. C’mon, time to face the dragon.” They made their way into a back room where two heavily muscled and scantily clad men stood guard. House sized them up. Their arms were larger than the circumference of his head. They stood at attention on legs that could break his neck like those hot chicks would sometimes do in the movies. Only these boys were definitely male … and very well endowed. “If you boys are packing, I’m going to have to call the cops on you.” He wiggled his fingers. “Better let me frisk you to make sure you’re not breaking any laws.”
“House, get your ass in here!” they heard from inside the office.
He shrugged. “My mistress calls. I’ll check on your boys later.” He led a mystified Wilson into the office.
The dragon was actually a brunette dressed in a red power suit and sitting behind a desk. Her room was done in warm earth tones meant to put her clients at ease before she bled them for every penny they had. Paper littered her desk, held down by different paperweights including a tastefully sized dildo, ball gag and of all things, a rubber ducky. She looked up as they entered her domain. “House. Give me one good reason why I shouldn’t defenestrate you right now.”
House leaned on his cane. “Because I don’t know what defenestrate means. Is it fun?”
Glaring at House, she stood up, straightening the jacket of her suit. House realized she wasn’t wearing a shirt underneath her suit. He stared blatantly at her cleavage, smirking. She snapped her fingers at him and he looked up. He shrugged. If she was going to wear such outfits, he was going to look.
To be polite, she held out her hand to Wilson. “Hi, I’m Stacy Warner, principal -” House snorted, “of the Princeton-Plainsboro Teaching School -” Hooker High" House whispered, “- for Young Adults.”
“Jimmy Wilson,” he said as he shook her hand.
“What’s a cute boy like you doing with a dirty old bastard like House?” she asked as she sat down. The other two followed suit, sitting comfortably in large padded chairs that had seen more action than horny bunnies.
“Hey, I … ok no actually I don’t take offense. Continue.”
Wilson glanced at House then back to Stacy. “He’s helping me with a problem.”
“I’ll bet. Honey, with your looks, I’ll do it for free.”
House rolled his eyes while Wilson blushed. “Not that kind of problem. Jeez, why does everything have to be sex with you?”
“I could ask you the same thing,” she retorted. House leered at her but she ignored him and he couldn’t help pouting.
Wilson cleared his throat. “Uh, should I come back at another time?”
“No!” came twin responses.
“He doesn’t believe me when I say his evil sister is trying to kill him. He wants proof. Yeah, like that matters.”
Stacy looked at them. “And this concerns me how?”
“It doesn’t,” House said. “I just want to see him blush. He’s so cute when he blushes, isn’t he?” Stacy studied him and nodded her agreement. The rosy hue added to the sweetness of his face and made House wonder if he blushed all over.
“House!” This time it was Wilson who was pissed and still blushing. House decided it was a good look for him.
He sighed. “No one lets me have any fun. Fine. Stacy, ever serviced a woman named Lisa Cuddy?”
“House, you know I can’t divulge my client list. It would break all the rules I’ve established -”
“I have a case of Dagoba dark chocolate bars just going to waste in my office. Such a shame too,” House interrupted. He took his roll as manipulative dirty old bastard seriously. It wasn’t as easy as he made it look.
Stacy tried to look strong but failed miserably. She picked up the phone and pressed a button. “Get Sugar and the gang.”
House nodded. “Ah, that’s better.”
“Wait,” Wilson said. “You’re giving us information for chocolate?”
Stacy shook her head. “This isn’t just any chocolate.”
There was a knock on the door and Chase stuck his head in. “What’s up?”
She beckoned them and Sugar, Spice and Everything Nice slinked, sauntered and floated into the room, shutting the door. Three pairs of eyes latched on to various bouncy and perky boy parts. Everything Nice immediately made her way to House, perching delicately on his lap. Sugar sat himself on Wilson’s armrest, smiling a dazzlingly white smile that nearly blinded him. Spice smirked and stood between them, way too cool and hot to degrade himself in such a way.
Stacy leaned back in her chair. “Kids, why don’t you tell House here what you know about Lisa Cuddy. The ah, personal stuff. Not the other stuff.”
House pet Cameron’s lightly cinnamon scented hair. She snuggled up to him and House swore if she were a kitten, she would have been purring. Hmm… maybe next time he was here he’d ask her to go the sex kitten route. “No, no you can tell us everything. We want to be thorough after all.”
Wilson shuddered. “Let’s … not.” At House’s look, he replied defensively, “she’s my sister! That’s just wrong.”
Foreman spoke before the two men would either start arguing or start making out in front of everyone. While that would have been fun to watch, Foreman wanted to be out on the floor making money. “She’s ambitious. Very ambitious.”
“You get this during your ‘exploits’?”
“She likes to talk, okay? She has plans.”
Chase caressed Wilson’s head. “And they don’t include you, handsome.” Wilson’s eyes closed as Chase began to give him a head massage. House was struck by the flush of pleasure on the younger man’s face.
He grunted. “Hands off the pretty boy, pretty boy.” Chase pouted but complied.
Cameron looked up. “She said she was going to whatever it took to get her rightful inheritance. That helps, right House?”
Wilson avoided his gaze and House nodded. “Yeah doll, that helps.”
****
They returned back to House’s glass office in silence. Wilson paced the length of the room like a leashed puppy that just wanted to make everything better while House tossed a ball around and pretended to not stare at him.
Wilson was even hot while brooding. There should have been a law against that kind of thing.
“Alright, what’s on your mind?”
Wilson rubbed the back of his neck. “Guess I was hoping it wouldn’t be true.”
“You’re still hung up on that thing with your sister? I’ve heard it a dozen times. She hates you, wants to kill you and run off to Fiji drinking mojitos and ogling scantily clad men. Boring.”
Wilson faced him and put his hands on his hips. House wondered if he’d suddenly start floating around the room, telling everyone to think happy thoughts. Would that make him Tinkerbell? “But she’s my sister. She’d have to know I’d share with her.”
No, he’d definitely be Captain Hook.
House snorted and stood up. “Yeah right. Sorry pretty boy, but no one is that much of a bleeding heart.”
“Don’t call me that.”
“What?”
“Pretty boy.”
House made his way to the front of his desk so that he was facing the irate man. “Why?”
“I don’t like it. It’s demeaning. And I still can’t believe Lisa would do this.”
“Just because you’re family doesn’t mean you’re automatically safe from murder.” House took a step closer, stopping just short of baring his teeth and pissing to show his dominance. “if she inherited, you’d be plotting her demise and she’d be doing it right back.”
Wilson’s eyes flashed. “Are you so… so cynical enough that you believe everyone’s out to get you? That love is merely a means to an end?”
They were nearly nose-to-nose now. House’s eyes strayed to those full lips then traveled up past flushed cheeks to bright eyes black in anger. And maybe something else. The air grew heavy. He took a deep breath and -
“What the hell are you doing?”
Wilson jerked away from the computer and cleared his throat. “I was looking for the file on Whitacre. You sent him my way - possible sarcoma.”
House leaned on his cane. Like he was going to fall for that. “And you thought this would be on my computer why?
“Oh I don’t know. Maybe because doctors tend to write notes about their cases there?”
House smirked.
“Cameron tends to write notes on patients there.”
House moved to the chair in front of his desk and just sat down. Someone’s defensive today.
“I wasn’t snooping.” Wilson tried to look innocent. It wasn’t working.
“You don’t have my permission to be on my computer.”
Now Wilson looked insulted. Good. “You never ask for my permission to go through my stuff.”
“That’s different.”
“How?”
“Because you let me,” he said smugly.
Wilson sighed. Then he smiled. “Ah, but I have dirt on you now.”
House tried to look nonchalant. “Cuddy already knows about the porn.”
“That’s not what I’m talking about.” Wilson was looking way too happy with himself. Uh oh.
“I read your story.” Wilson sat back and waited.
House fiddled with his cane. “What story?”
“The bad one.”
“That narrows it down.”
“Sugar. Spice. Everything Nice.”
Crap. “Can I blame it on the vicodin?”
Wilson rolled his eyes. “You blame everything on the vicodin.”
House shrugged. “I was high when I wrote it.
He crossed his arms.
“There’s nothing to do during clinic hours. I was bored. Chase was looking exceptionally pretty.
He raised an eyebrow.
“What now?” House whined (though he’d never admit it.)
“You really think I’m hot when I’m snappy?”
“I never said that.” Oops.
“yes you did.”
House sat back in his chair and stretched out his leg. “I lied.”
“Ah! You never lie.”
Wilson looked so damn proud of himself. This wouldn’t do. He tried to stare Wilson down.
“You just want me to think you’re lying about never lying because you don’t want me to know you think I’m hot when I’m snippy.”
“Snappy.”
Shut up, just shut up.
“Don’t change the subject.”
He was desperate. “What were we talking about again?”
“Damn it House!” Wilson jumped out of his chair. In two steps he was around the desk, pulled House up forcefully but gently and kissed him.
This kiss was one of those kisses that was sweet and yet scorchingly hot at the same time. A kiss that promised cuddling after really sweaty, messy sexy. A kiss that -
“House,” Wilson said around said kiss.
“Hmm?”
“Shut up.” And Wilson kissed him again.
Author: chi
Rating: PG-13 for boys kissing
Disclaimer: They totally don’t belong to me and that makes me sad.
Author’s notes: Um. I’m sorry.
Fandom: House
Pairing: House/Wilson
Apparently I can only write slash when I’m subbing at elementary school. There’s something inherently wrong with that. This is for
princess_bunny because she wrote me funny and pretty Padackles RPS slash I apologize to everyone for this horrible fic because, yeah. Just read the first paragraph.
Oh yeah, this is what Cameron is wearing. Now if only I could get the other boys into their clothes.
Before I forget, thanks to
vonilyn for the beta because she rocks. And
lucia_tanaka because without her, I wouldn’t have a clichéd simile.
Summary: House a la really badly written old school Private Eye
It was going to be one of those days; he could feel it in his bones. One of those really hot days where you could scramble an egg on the sidewalk and have some bacon and hash browns on the side. Where ice cream could melt in sixty seconds flat, a gooey puddle of cream and sugar all over your fingers that taunted you with sweet goodness. A day where the sun beat down mercilessly and offered no respite except for artificially cooled buildings filled with artificial people.
Gregory House hated days like this. Gregory House hated all days but that was beside the point. He hated these types of days more. House sat at his desk, looking out the window. He had a feeling, a horrible feeling that things would change - for good or bad, he didn’t care. He hated change in all forms; they had a tendency to ruin his perfectly miserable existence. And anything that did that deserved to be ridiculed and then ignored. The feeling grew stronger until he couldn’t fight it anymore. He turned his chair back to his desk and picked up his cards, settling back into his game of solitaire.
Hmm, red queen on black king.
And then he walked into the room.
He was immaculately dressed in a black suit tailored to accentuate his curves and garnished with an ugly green tie. Baby-soft brown hair and wide brown eyes framed his boyish face. House’s gaze traveled past full lips and a well-defined torso, lingered on a nice package, traveled down long legs to shiny shoes he could almost see his face in.
“Are you Gregory House?” his soft tenor filled the room and House knew this man would be trouble.
House nodded, setting down his deck of cards. “That’s what it says.” He nodded towards his glass office door.
The young man took a hesitant step closer. “I - I hear you help people.”
“I do a lot of things… if the price is right.” The man blushed. Cute and really naïve. Just how I like them, House thought.
The man ran his hand through that luxurious hair and House’s hand twitched (Focus House, remember what happened the last time you thought with Mr. Happy). “I’m in trouble and don’t know what to do.”
House nodded and resisted the urge to roll his eyes. The guy was cute but he needed to get to the point. “Any specific trouble or just your average ‘my luck sucks’ spiel Mr. …”
“Wilson,” he said breathlessly. “Jimmy Wilson. And my trouble has a source.” He hesitated. “Someone is trying to kill me.”
Wow, what a shocker. Why is it always boring. “What makes you say that?” House leaned back, propping one leg up on his desk and then gently moved the other on top.
“The fact that I’ve almost died three times is a pretty good indication,” Wilson snapped and damn, House wanted to jump his bones because a snappy Wilson was a hot Wilson. But he was a professional and he wouldn’t.
Yet.
“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to do that. I’m just a little on edge.” Wilson licked his lips. House unconsciously mimicked him. “Maybe this was a mistake.”
House sighed, sensing his next meal was about to walk out the door. “Hold on.” He quickly and a little painfully, he might add, got his legs off the desk and stood up. Grabbing his silver-handled cane, he limped over to Wilson. “I can help but specifics would be good.”
But Wilson was staring at his leg. “Oh, you’re hurt.”
“I can still do my job,” House snapped.
Wilson looked at House. “What? Oh, that’s not what I meant. I was just surprised. I didn’t mean to offend you.” He looked at House with those damn puppy dog eyes and House knew this would be bad.
Wilson looked down shyly then looked at him through his eyelashes. “I think,” he said in that hesitant, breathy tone, “I’d like your help.”
Oh he was in some deep shit.
House nodded but didn’t move, staying close to the younger man.
“Tell me what happened.” He quickly grabbed Wilson’s arm and led him to the chair. Perching on the desk, he tried to listen seriously. Yeah, right.
****
“Let me get this straight,” House said as he leaned back into his really comfy chair. “First, a dog that was left at your doorstep bit you and gave you rabies, which would have killed you but you managed to get treatment in time.” Wilson nodded. “Then you suspect a stuffed bear got you sick, which also would have killed you had you not be diagnosed quickly.” He nodded again and House couldn’t help but think of him as an over eager puppy. He really needed to focus. “After that, you suspect someone was poisoning you with gold and you almost died again but realized what was happening and went to the hospital.” House looked at Wilson incredulously. “What are you, a doctor?”
“Actually, yes. That’s why I recognized all the symptoms.”
“Oh.” Just his luck, this one had brains. House didn’t mind brains, in fact he preferred them. Nothing was more boring than an airhead. Oh they were great to look and usually fabulous in bed. Like that one time with what’s her name - Candy or Carmen. Now she was good.
House was pulled back to the present as Wilson asked, “But do you believe me? That someone is trying to kill me?”
“No. You just have incredibly bad luck with animals.”
Wilson’s face fell and House sighed.
“Yes someone is trying to kill you.”
“But you said -”
“I know what I said.” House rubbed his eyes. He hated repeating himself. Maybe this one didn’t have that many brains after all. He definitely was pretty to look at though. “Your father recently died, leaving you with quite the inheritance, but your evil sister wants it all for herself. Am I warm?”
Wilson gaped at him. It really was cute. “How did you know?”
“Your tasteful suit says, ‘I’m in mourning yet still stylish’ while your shoes are screaming ‘I just got a lot of money.’ That and there’s an article about your family in the paper.”
“Oh.” He sounded almost … disappointed.
“What?”
“Well, aren’t you going to, you know.” Wilson looked up at him.
The pale sunlight caressed his face, highlighting the previously unseen golden highlights in his hair. House bit back his retort, struck by the sheer prettiness. “No, I don’t. That’s why I’m asking.”
“Gather clues, get evidence, talk to shady characters?”
House shrugged. “What am I, a trained monkey? Why would I do that? I solved the case. I take all forms of payment: Visa, MasterCard, sexual favors.”
And then he did it. It couldn’t be what he thought it was. Grown men just didn’t do that sort of thing! It was juvenile and totally hot. Damn it, no one should look that hot while pouting. Totally not fair.
“Fine. I’ll go search in the seedy underbelly of society.” He stood up and walked to his door. “But I want extra and you’re coming with me.”
Wilson smiled softly and stood up. “Thanks.”
House tried to pretend he wasn’t melting inside. Jimmy’s chocolate brown eyes looked at him with gratitude, something House hadn’t seen in longer than he could remember. When Jimmy looked at him like that, he realized that he was wrapped around this man’s pinky finger. And he didn’t mind it.
Yep, deep shit.
****
House and Wilson arrived at the Princeton-Plainsboro Teaching School for Young Adults. House affectionately called it Hooker High. Stacy Warner, an “old friend” of House, ran the school and managed the extra-curricular activities on the side. They walked into the smoke filled room where students were putting their lessons to the test on paying customers.
A gorgeous vision in tight leather pants that left nothing to the imagination and an open leather vest showing off a hairless chest greeted them at the door. The nubile young man peered at House from under blonde bangs and gave him a sultry smile. “Well, look what the cat dragged in. Welcome back, Greg.” He put an arm around House’s waist. “And who is your lovely friend? Will he be joining us tonight?”
Wilson blushed and House scowled.
“Not for you Sugar. Be a good boy and find your mommy.” He slapped him on the ass and sent him on his way.
“Who was that?” Wilson’s eyes followed the tight ass as he wove his way through the room.
House grinned. “That was Sugar, also known as Robert Chase. One of Stacy’s more … talented students.”
“Know this from personal experience.”
House smirked. “Wouldn’t you like to know. He likes to hang out with a trio and where Sugar is, there’s sure to be -”
“Well well, if it isn’t House. I thought you weren’t allowed back in here anymore after what happened last time.” A dark-skinned man crossed well-muscled arms over his chest. He was dressed in blue jeans that had to have been spray-painted on and a tight white tank that only accentuated his musculature. House allowed his eyes to travel up the built body appreciatively. You could see he was one of those guys who knew he looked good and showed it off but would act all modest about it even as he flexed subtly. It was a fine sight.
An elfin girl wrapped her arms around House’s waist and laid her head delicately on his shoulder. Her long brown hair framed a round face and stormy eyes. However Wilson was apparently more interested in her leather strapless bra and short black miniskirt. House knew from personal experience that her ‘funbags’ were the real deal, a rarity in these times of saline-filled orifices. “Stacy will let House stay for awhile right? I haven’t seen him in so long and I’ve been so lonely.” Her fingers traced idle patterns on his arm.
Wilson shook his head. “Last time?”
“Long story. Tall, black and handsome over there is Spice and this,” he said, gesturing to the girl looking affectionately up at him, “sweet number is Everything Nice.” House paused. “But I usually call them Foreman and Cameron.”
Foreman threw up his hands. “House! You can’t go around giving out our real names!”
House was saved from answering by Chase. Everyone turned to stare as he walked over, mesmerized by the sway in his thin hips. “Stacy’s decided to see you.” He smirked and House resisted the urge to pounce like a hungry lion pacing the bars of its cage, eyeing a steak. No one should be allowed to be that pretty. Except maybe Wilson. “You owe me.” With a wink, he left, Foreman and Cameron following him. House blatantly stared at their perky behinds.
“There go some fabulous asses.”
Wilson rubbed his eyes. “How can he walk in those pants?”
“Practice. C’mon, time to face the dragon.” They made their way into a back room where two heavily muscled and scantily clad men stood guard. House sized them up. Their arms were larger than the circumference of his head. They stood at attention on legs that could break his neck like those hot chicks would sometimes do in the movies. Only these boys were definitely male … and very well endowed. “If you boys are packing, I’m going to have to call the cops on you.” He wiggled his fingers. “Better let me frisk you to make sure you’re not breaking any laws.”
“House, get your ass in here!” they heard from inside the office.
He shrugged. “My mistress calls. I’ll check on your boys later.” He led a mystified Wilson into the office.
The dragon was actually a brunette dressed in a red power suit and sitting behind a desk. Her room was done in warm earth tones meant to put her clients at ease before she bled them for every penny they had. Paper littered her desk, held down by different paperweights including a tastefully sized dildo, ball gag and of all things, a rubber ducky. She looked up as they entered her domain. “House. Give me one good reason why I shouldn’t defenestrate you right now.”
House leaned on his cane. “Because I don’t know what defenestrate means. Is it fun?”
Glaring at House, she stood up, straightening the jacket of her suit. House realized she wasn’t wearing a shirt underneath her suit. He stared blatantly at her cleavage, smirking. She snapped her fingers at him and he looked up. He shrugged. If she was going to wear such outfits, he was going to look.
To be polite, she held out her hand to Wilson. “Hi, I’m Stacy Warner, principal -” House snorted, “of the Princeton-Plainsboro Teaching School -” Hooker High" House whispered, “- for Young Adults.”
“Jimmy Wilson,” he said as he shook her hand.
“What’s a cute boy like you doing with a dirty old bastard like House?” she asked as she sat down. The other two followed suit, sitting comfortably in large padded chairs that had seen more action than horny bunnies.
“Hey, I … ok no actually I don’t take offense. Continue.”
Wilson glanced at House then back to Stacy. “He’s helping me with a problem.”
“I’ll bet. Honey, with your looks, I’ll do it for free.”
House rolled his eyes while Wilson blushed. “Not that kind of problem. Jeez, why does everything have to be sex with you?”
“I could ask you the same thing,” she retorted. House leered at her but she ignored him and he couldn’t help pouting.
Wilson cleared his throat. “Uh, should I come back at another time?”
“No!” came twin responses.
“He doesn’t believe me when I say his evil sister is trying to kill him. He wants proof. Yeah, like that matters.”
Stacy looked at them. “And this concerns me how?”
“It doesn’t,” House said. “I just want to see him blush. He’s so cute when he blushes, isn’t he?” Stacy studied him and nodded her agreement. The rosy hue added to the sweetness of his face and made House wonder if he blushed all over.
“House!” This time it was Wilson who was pissed and still blushing. House decided it was a good look for him.
He sighed. “No one lets me have any fun. Fine. Stacy, ever serviced a woman named Lisa Cuddy?”
“House, you know I can’t divulge my client list. It would break all the rules I’ve established -”
“I have a case of Dagoba dark chocolate bars just going to waste in my office. Such a shame too,” House interrupted. He took his roll as manipulative dirty old bastard seriously. It wasn’t as easy as he made it look.
Stacy tried to look strong but failed miserably. She picked up the phone and pressed a button. “Get Sugar and the gang.”
House nodded. “Ah, that’s better.”
“Wait,” Wilson said. “You’re giving us information for chocolate?”
Stacy shook her head. “This isn’t just any chocolate.”
There was a knock on the door and Chase stuck his head in. “What’s up?”
She beckoned them and Sugar, Spice and Everything Nice slinked, sauntered and floated into the room, shutting the door. Three pairs of eyes latched on to various bouncy and perky boy parts. Everything Nice immediately made her way to House, perching delicately on his lap. Sugar sat himself on Wilson’s armrest, smiling a dazzlingly white smile that nearly blinded him. Spice smirked and stood between them, way too cool and hot to degrade himself in such a way.
Stacy leaned back in her chair. “Kids, why don’t you tell House here what you know about Lisa Cuddy. The ah, personal stuff. Not the other stuff.”
House pet Cameron’s lightly cinnamon scented hair. She snuggled up to him and House swore if she were a kitten, she would have been purring. Hmm… maybe next time he was here he’d ask her to go the sex kitten route. “No, no you can tell us everything. We want to be thorough after all.”
Wilson shuddered. “Let’s … not.” At House’s look, he replied defensively, “she’s my sister! That’s just wrong.”
Foreman spoke before the two men would either start arguing or start making out in front of everyone. While that would have been fun to watch, Foreman wanted to be out on the floor making money. “She’s ambitious. Very ambitious.”
“You get this during your ‘exploits’?”
“She likes to talk, okay? She has plans.”
Chase caressed Wilson’s head. “And they don’t include you, handsome.” Wilson’s eyes closed as Chase began to give him a head massage. House was struck by the flush of pleasure on the younger man’s face.
He grunted. “Hands off the pretty boy, pretty boy.” Chase pouted but complied.
Cameron looked up. “She said she was going to whatever it took to get her rightful inheritance. That helps, right House?”
Wilson avoided his gaze and House nodded. “Yeah doll, that helps.”
****
They returned back to House’s glass office in silence. Wilson paced the length of the room like a leashed puppy that just wanted to make everything better while House tossed a ball around and pretended to not stare at him.
Wilson was even hot while brooding. There should have been a law against that kind of thing.
“Alright, what’s on your mind?”
Wilson rubbed the back of his neck. “Guess I was hoping it wouldn’t be true.”
“You’re still hung up on that thing with your sister? I’ve heard it a dozen times. She hates you, wants to kill you and run off to Fiji drinking mojitos and ogling scantily clad men. Boring.”
Wilson faced him and put his hands on his hips. House wondered if he’d suddenly start floating around the room, telling everyone to think happy thoughts. Would that make him Tinkerbell? “But she’s my sister. She’d have to know I’d share with her.”
No, he’d definitely be Captain Hook.
House snorted and stood up. “Yeah right. Sorry pretty boy, but no one is that much of a bleeding heart.”
“Don’t call me that.”
“What?”
“Pretty boy.”
House made his way to the front of his desk so that he was facing the irate man. “Why?”
“I don’t like it. It’s demeaning. And I still can’t believe Lisa would do this.”
“Just because you’re family doesn’t mean you’re automatically safe from murder.” House took a step closer, stopping just short of baring his teeth and pissing to show his dominance. “if she inherited, you’d be plotting her demise and she’d be doing it right back.”
Wilson’s eyes flashed. “Are you so… so cynical enough that you believe everyone’s out to get you? That love is merely a means to an end?”
They were nearly nose-to-nose now. House’s eyes strayed to those full lips then traveled up past flushed cheeks to bright eyes black in anger. And maybe something else. The air grew heavy. He took a deep breath and -
“What the hell are you doing?”
Wilson jerked away from the computer and cleared his throat. “I was looking for the file on Whitacre. You sent him my way - possible sarcoma.”
House leaned on his cane. Like he was going to fall for that. “And you thought this would be on my computer why?
“Oh I don’t know. Maybe because doctors tend to write notes about their cases there?”
House smirked.
“Cameron tends to write notes on patients there.”
House moved to the chair in front of his desk and just sat down. Someone’s defensive today.
“I wasn’t snooping.” Wilson tried to look innocent. It wasn’t working.
“You don’t have my permission to be on my computer.”
Now Wilson looked insulted. Good. “You never ask for my permission to go through my stuff.”
“That’s different.”
“How?”
“Because you let me,” he said smugly.
Wilson sighed. Then he smiled. “Ah, but I have dirt on you now.”
House tried to look nonchalant. “Cuddy already knows about the porn.”
“That’s not what I’m talking about.” Wilson was looking way too happy with himself. Uh oh.
“I read your story.” Wilson sat back and waited.
House fiddled with his cane. “What story?”
“The bad one.”
“That narrows it down.”
“Sugar. Spice. Everything Nice.”
Crap. “Can I blame it on the vicodin?”
Wilson rolled his eyes. “You blame everything on the vicodin.”
House shrugged. “I was high when I wrote it.
He crossed his arms.
“There’s nothing to do during clinic hours. I was bored. Chase was looking exceptionally pretty.
He raised an eyebrow.
“What now?” House whined (though he’d never admit it.)
“You really think I’m hot when I’m snappy?”
“I never said that.” Oops.
“yes you did.”
House sat back in his chair and stretched out his leg. “I lied.”
“Ah! You never lie.”
Wilson looked so damn proud of himself. This wouldn’t do. He tried to stare Wilson down.
“You just want me to think you’re lying about never lying because you don’t want me to know you think I’m hot when I’m snippy.”
“Snappy.”
Shut up, just shut up.
“Don’t change the subject.”
He was desperate. “What were we talking about again?”
“Damn it House!” Wilson jumped out of his chair. In two steps he was around the desk, pulled House up forcefully but gently and kissed him.
This kiss was one of those kisses that was sweet and yet scorchingly hot at the same time. A kiss that promised cuddling after really sweaty, messy sexy. A kiss that -
“House,” Wilson said around said kiss.
“Hmm?”
“Shut up.” And Wilson kissed him again.