House/Wilson
Title: Decorative Napkins (Oh, Darling)
Pairing: House/Wilson
Rating: PG:13
Warnings: Parasomnia ; Alvin and the Chipmunks ; nocturnal emissions ; five AM ; unsatisfying sex ; marketing reports ; beautiful eyes that are really dashing ; waltzes ; penile examinations ; gay? ; so not saying that
Summary: Moments in time that mostly refer around a bed but venture outdoors.
Disclaimer: Money can’t buy you love, but it’s all you need, and all you need is an apple a day to keep gay doctors away according to folk legend.
Notes: Most of these started as medication-induced writings that I wake up to. I’ve wanted to expand on them, but can’t, but they all seem to fit together in such a way. I edited a few, fixed a few, and stretched out a few ideas. With love from me to you.
He’s dreaming. He’s in bed with somebody, presumably Julie. Bright blue eyes stare back at him, eyes that remind him of House, but couldn’t be, because Julie had blue eyes, too, and why would he be in such an intimate setting with House?
A hand trails down his chest. Leaning forward, James pushes his lips against Julie’s (or whom he thinks is Julie’s). The response is hesitant at first, but the person kisses back nonetheless. The passion behind it for both parties grows, and James soon feels heat in his belly burn. A hand is suddenly on his shoulder, name against his lips.
‘Jimmy. Jimmy, stop!’No, he thinks, stopping his dream partner with a kiss. The voice is silenced, replaced by the wet sound of kissing. Then his name again.
‘Jimmy!’
James’ eyes open. At first he thinks he’s still dreaming- bright blue eyes stared barely an inch in front of him. And then-
‘Crap.’
Sleeping in Greg’s living room is one thing. Sleeping in Greg’s bed is another. After so many years of marriage, James found it lonely to sleep by himself. And with it being winter and ten degrees out, the extra warmth is nice for both of them. But now…
‘Was I… did I…’ James trails off.
‘Uh-huh.’
It’s not like anything sexual happened between them. Just a kiss, just a kiss between them that was initiated by a dream made up in James’ head.
‘I was dreaming.’
‘Sure you were.’
James swallows. ‘I was dreaming of Julie.’
‘I’m not surprised.’
Nodding, James pulls the blankets up and turns his back on House.
‘Well. Wake me up before it happens again.’ He hears House turn on his side, their backs pressed together. He can almost feel Greg’s heartbeat. Lubb-dupp and all that. ‘Good night.’
‘’night.’
And although it’s three in the morning, James doesn’t sleep a wink for the rest of the night.
He’s certain House doesn’t, either.
*
The next time James sleeps at House’s place, it’s a week later and it’s below zero. He’s forgotten his pajama pants, so he goes to bed in his boxers and neither of them mention that his nuts must be so high that his voice may very well soon be reminiscent of Alvin and the Chipmunks.
They fold back the cover, slip under the blankets and flop back on the pillows in unison. Greg’s leg stretches between them as he reaches for his Vicodin and swallows a pill.
Greg chats about a patient who he thought was an idiot he had in the clinic, James tells a story he heard on the radio, and both agree that they don’t want to go to work tomorrow. James says something about Julie, Greg doesn’t want to hear it, and they lapse into silence.
Neither mentions it when they wake up the next morning in -7 degree weather the way they’re curled around each other; James’ head on Greg’s chest, Greg’ arms around his waist. Their legs wrapped around each other, the way James’ weight was off Greg’s thigh.
And they certainly avoid bringing up the way their erections were pressed together.
*
Two weeks later, Greg has a wet dream when they’re in bed. James doesn’t say anything as he reaches over to the bedside table and grabs a box of tissues.
*
James wakes up shortly after five to silence, which would be all right if a) Greg didn’t snore softly and b) said man wasn’t staring intently at him. Neither says a word as Greg leans over and they start kissing slowly. James’ hand trails slowly up Greg’s side, pushing his shirt up in the process. His fingers brush his skin, coming down to curl around his waist as their tongues met, teeth nipping at lower lips, hot air brushing out from foreign noses onto cheeks.
They stay like that, kissing and doing little else, until Greg’s alarm clicks on at six. James’ mouth aches, but they don’t stop for another fifteen minutes when House growls ‘fucking hate this song’ rolls over and slams the alarm off. James welcomes him back when Greg resumed kissing him.
When they stop and Greg is in the shower, James is only slightly aware of his half-hard cock.
They’re half an hour late for work, and Cuddy doesn’t dare ask as to the origin of Wilson’s toothy smile or why House is more smug than usual.
*
Greg doesn’t say anything he walks into his bathroom and catches James jerking off. He stands there, brushing his teeth until James finishes. He only raises an eyebrow as James lifts his hand to his lips and tells him to hurry up because they’re running an hour late.
*
Julie wonders why James is suddenly into anal sex.
Everything becomes clear when he screams her name and whispers Greg’s.
*
They’re watching the midday movie when the topic of circumcision comes up.
‘A lot of big name celebrities are circumcised,’ House says. ‘Bob Dylan, Robert DeNiro, James Dean- Jimmy Dean.’
‘But a lot of great men aren’t,’ James argues. ‘John Lennon… you…’
‘Paul McCartney was circumcised,’ Greg replies. Before James can tell him Paul isn’t Jewish, Greg has his hand down his pants. It’s the first time Greg has touched his cock and it sends a shiver down James’ spine.
James is trembling in the aftermath seven minutes later.
*
The first time they have sex it’s completely unsatisfying.
‘Let’s… never do that again.’
‘Right.’
*
Julie comes home two hours early because she left her marketing report in her desk. James had stayed home sick, and she’s about to go upstairs to see if he’s feeling any better when she hears a thump from the guestroom.
She enters, report under her arm, and finds her husband on the floor, his best friend on the bed, and clothes thrown across the room whilst a cane lay beside the bed.
James begins to make up excuses, Greg just shrugs and Julie says little as she leaves.
*
Wilson pops by between patients to visit House in the middle of a case. Symptoms are written up on the whiteboard, and all three of his proteges are discussing the patient. Wilson walks past them and House hands him a coffee. Despite it being completely harmless, Wilson catches Cameron staring at them out of the corner of his eye.
*
James lets slip that he thinks Greg’s eyes are beautiful.
Greg snaps at him and says a man is never beautiful. Women are beautiful. Men are handsome and charming and dashing, but not beautiful.
As he leaves, James takes note of the smile tugging at the corner of Greg’s lip.
*
They walk towards the car, House leaning into Wilson more than usual. Wilson’s arm is around his waist, letting him rest upon him, tired from the day. The rain and cold weather doesn’t make it any easier and they stop before they reach the car for House to close his eyes and draw in a breath. Smothering the pain down with determination but failing silently.
*
‘Are you having another affair?’
Wilson lifts his head. ‘I’m sorry?’
‘Are you cheating on your wife again?’ Cameron shuffles in her spot, cheeks just slightly pink. Wilson slips his pen into his pocket and licks his lips.
‘She knows.’
A beat.
‘So you are?’
Pause, one, two, three.
‘It’s really none of your business, Dr. Cameron.’
One, two, three.
‘I just think…’
Stand, two three. Turn, two three. Lead her from the room, one, two, three. ‘We’re seeing our divorce lawyers on Monday. And it’s still none of your business.’
One, two, three.
*
‘This is degrading.’
‘Oh, come off it. You know you like it.’
James sits down at the lunch table, making sure to tuck his coat under him as he sat. ‘Someone might see!’
Greg rolls his eyes and steals the other’s sandwich, sitting beside him. ‘How? You’re wearing pants for one thing. And you’ve got that damn white coat on all the time.’
James doesn’t say anything about Greg stealing his food, but pushes his cup of jello further from Greg. ‘But what if I have to piss? The guy next to me might look over, and what am I supposed to say? "Ho-ho, I just like to wear my wife’s red panties?"’ He snorts and pulls back the lid on his yogurt. ‘Like that will go down well.’
‘Well, he shouldn’t be looking over. Your dick is mine. Which reminds me, you’re due for your latest penile examination…’ Before James can ask why he needs his penis checked, Greg’s hand is cupping him. ‘Yup, everything seems in check.’
James tries not to shriek. ‘Greg! Not here!’
‘Like I say, keep your dick closer, but keep your best friend’s dick closer.’
‘You never say that.’
Greg pretended to think about it and shrugged. ‘No… but if I did, I’d be staying true to it.’
*
Greg’s hand trailed up and down James’ back. Soft, pleasant, and James would describe it later as caring. It was heading into summer, and the sheets were bunched up around their naked waists as they lay on their stomachs, turned to each other. Greg hadn’t asked anything, but James found himself whispering in response to an unanswered question.
‘She had… a buttplug. Aaand… she wanted me to use it. Not on her, though. On me. Aaand soon she didn’t even need to be naked. I’d still get off. Then one day… she went to visit her parents on Oregon. And I was alone…’
Greg ran his hands up the other’s back, pausing between his shoulder blades. ‘Liking anal doesn’t mean you’re gay.’
James shrugs. ‘But fantasizing about men does. Fantasizing about kissing them does. Fantasizing about dating them does… Fantasizing about fucking them does.’ James averts his gaze and focuses on the pillows instead. ‘I don’t want to be gay. I want to be straight. Because people like straight. Who wants a gay doctor? I should be married. I like boobs and shit. Getting off on fantasizing about being fucked up the ass by a man shouldn’t be so… so…’
‘Hot?’
‘Yeah.’
Greg’s hand falls from James’ back. It lands between them, touching the side of James’ arm. The silence stretches between them, and James is sure Greg has fallen asleep when his hand moves to the side of his face. Knuckle up his cheek, fingers around his chin, making him look Greg in the eye. When Greg seems certain James wasn’t about to look away, he moves his hand away and rests it on the small of his back.
‘I don’t think sexuality can be defined in such away. Heterosexual, homosexual- they’re rigid terms. Sure, some people maybe attracted only to men or only to women, but really, I think they’re few and far between. Some may even be lying to themselves. A majority of the population may very well be bisexual, but that’s thought to mean being attracted to both sexes equally. Some people may be attracted to some more men or some women more. Sexuality definitions are bullshit. You’re either this, that, or the other.
‘What if I’m mostly attracted to women? Can I only be straight? So if I fall in love with a man, does that mean I’ve been lying all along and really I’m a fudge packer beneath my supposedly straight exterior? Jimmy, you know I loved Stacy, you know I still have feelings for her. But here I am, lying naked in bed with you, and I’m completely happy like this. I’m not gay, but I’m not straight. And I’m not bi, because while, yeah, I’m attracted to men, I do prefer women. But what if I started to get feelings for… what’s the politically correct term… somebody’s who’s intersexual? Does that mean I’m suddenly pansexual? It’s all a load of shit, Jimmy.
‘If I want to have a boyfriend, I will. If I want to have a girlfriend, there’s no stopping me. Society has been so deeply rooted the past few hundred years, you’re either straight or you’re not. There’s no middle ground, and what middle ground there is, has been trampled on by a heap of teenyboppers who want to be different, just like everyone else. But I do what I want, James, and if I want to push you against a wall in the hospital and stick my tongue down your throat, I will. Not because I’m fucking making a stand, not because I fucking want to shock people or be different, but because I bloody well feel like it and I enjoy it, and I enjoy doing it with you.’ He stops for a breath. His cheeks are red, brow narrowed, eyes ablaze. James swallowed loudly. ‘Happy?’
‘People may not like it,’ James finally says.
‘Then they can just suck my dick. You can’t fire someone because of an issue with his or her sexuality without getting sued. And Cuddy… well, I know a few things about her past that might irritate a few bees in a few bonnets.’ Softer now, Greg’s lips pinched, hand slowly rubbing. ‘Jimmy, you have to stop getting pissed about what people think. The nurses already talk behind their hands about us. Christ, they probably have a kitty running to see how long it takes for us to go and admit it. Everyone else… they can go fuck themselves, because I’m busy fucking you.’
James laughs, a smile stretching across his features. ‘Okay, I get it.’
Greg kisses his forehead, then his nose, and settles down on the pillow. ‘Good.’
*
House snaps to Foreman, Chase and Cameron one day:
‘I never say, "I love you".’
Wilson smiles behind his cup of coffee as he remembers the night before when Greg murmured the last three words just before he drifted off to sleep, thinking James was asleep, as they curled around one another, his face buried into James’ neck.
Pairing: House/Wilson
Rating: PG:13
Warnings: Parasomnia ; Alvin and the Chipmunks ; nocturnal emissions ; five AM ; unsatisfying sex ; marketing reports ; beautiful eyes that are really dashing ; waltzes ; penile examinations ; gay? ; so not saying that
Summary: Moments in time that mostly refer around a bed but venture outdoors.
Disclaimer: Money can’t buy you love, but it’s all you need, and all you need is an apple a day to keep gay doctors away according to folk legend.
Notes: Most of these started as medication-induced writings that I wake up to. I’ve wanted to expand on them, but can’t, but they all seem to fit together in such a way. I edited a few, fixed a few, and stretched out a few ideas. With love from me to you.
He’s dreaming. He’s in bed with somebody, presumably Julie. Bright blue eyes stare back at him, eyes that remind him of House, but couldn’t be, because Julie had blue eyes, too, and why would he be in such an intimate setting with House?
A hand trails down his chest. Leaning forward, James pushes his lips against Julie’s (or whom he thinks is Julie’s). The response is hesitant at first, but the person kisses back nonetheless. The passion behind it for both parties grows, and James soon feels heat in his belly burn. A hand is suddenly on his shoulder, name against his lips.
‘Jimmy. Jimmy, stop!’No, he thinks, stopping his dream partner with a kiss. The voice is silenced, replaced by the wet sound of kissing. Then his name again.
‘Jimmy!’
James’ eyes open. At first he thinks he’s still dreaming- bright blue eyes stared barely an inch in front of him. And then-
‘Crap.’
Sleeping in Greg’s living room is one thing. Sleeping in Greg’s bed is another. After so many years of marriage, James found it lonely to sleep by himself. And with it being winter and ten degrees out, the extra warmth is nice for both of them. But now…
‘Was I… did I…’ James trails off.
‘Uh-huh.’
It’s not like anything sexual happened between them. Just a kiss, just a kiss between them that was initiated by a dream made up in James’ head.
‘I was dreaming.’
‘Sure you were.’
James swallows. ‘I was dreaming of Julie.’
‘I’m not surprised.’
Nodding, James pulls the blankets up and turns his back on House.
‘Well. Wake me up before it happens again.’ He hears House turn on his side, their backs pressed together. He can almost feel Greg’s heartbeat. Lubb-dupp and all that. ‘Good night.’
‘’night.’
And although it’s three in the morning, James doesn’t sleep a wink for the rest of the night.
He’s certain House doesn’t, either.
*
The next time James sleeps at House’s place, it’s a week later and it’s below zero. He’s forgotten his pajama pants, so he goes to bed in his boxers and neither of them mention that his nuts must be so high that his voice may very well soon be reminiscent of Alvin and the Chipmunks.
They fold back the cover, slip under the blankets and flop back on the pillows in unison. Greg’s leg stretches between them as he reaches for his Vicodin and swallows a pill.
Greg chats about a patient who he thought was an idiot he had in the clinic, James tells a story he heard on the radio, and both agree that they don’t want to go to work tomorrow. James says something about Julie, Greg doesn’t want to hear it, and they lapse into silence.
Neither mentions it when they wake up the next morning in -7 degree weather the way they’re curled around each other; James’ head on Greg’s chest, Greg’ arms around his waist. Their legs wrapped around each other, the way James’ weight was off Greg’s thigh.
And they certainly avoid bringing up the way their erections were pressed together.
*
Two weeks later, Greg has a wet dream when they’re in bed. James doesn’t say anything as he reaches over to the bedside table and grabs a box of tissues.
*
James wakes up shortly after five to silence, which would be all right if a) Greg didn’t snore softly and b) said man wasn’t staring intently at him. Neither says a word as Greg leans over and they start kissing slowly. James’ hand trails slowly up Greg’s side, pushing his shirt up in the process. His fingers brush his skin, coming down to curl around his waist as their tongues met, teeth nipping at lower lips, hot air brushing out from foreign noses onto cheeks.
They stay like that, kissing and doing little else, until Greg’s alarm clicks on at six. James’ mouth aches, but they don’t stop for another fifteen minutes when House growls ‘fucking hate this song’ rolls over and slams the alarm off. James welcomes him back when Greg resumed kissing him.
When they stop and Greg is in the shower, James is only slightly aware of his half-hard cock.
They’re half an hour late for work, and Cuddy doesn’t dare ask as to the origin of Wilson’s toothy smile or why House is more smug than usual.
*
Greg doesn’t say anything he walks into his bathroom and catches James jerking off. He stands there, brushing his teeth until James finishes. He only raises an eyebrow as James lifts his hand to his lips and tells him to hurry up because they’re running an hour late.
*
Julie wonders why James is suddenly into anal sex.
Everything becomes clear when he screams her name and whispers Greg’s.
*
They’re watching the midday movie when the topic of circumcision comes up.
‘A lot of big name celebrities are circumcised,’ House says. ‘Bob Dylan, Robert DeNiro, James Dean- Jimmy Dean.’
‘But a lot of great men aren’t,’ James argues. ‘John Lennon… you…’
‘Paul McCartney was circumcised,’ Greg replies. Before James can tell him Paul isn’t Jewish, Greg has his hand down his pants. It’s the first time Greg has touched his cock and it sends a shiver down James’ spine.
James is trembling in the aftermath seven minutes later.
*
The first time they have sex it’s completely unsatisfying.
‘Let’s… never do that again.’
‘Right.’
*
Julie comes home two hours early because she left her marketing report in her desk. James had stayed home sick, and she’s about to go upstairs to see if he’s feeling any better when she hears a thump from the guestroom.
She enters, report under her arm, and finds her husband on the floor, his best friend on the bed, and clothes thrown across the room whilst a cane lay beside the bed.
James begins to make up excuses, Greg just shrugs and Julie says little as she leaves.
*
Wilson pops by between patients to visit House in the middle of a case. Symptoms are written up on the whiteboard, and all three of his proteges are discussing the patient. Wilson walks past them and House hands him a coffee. Despite it being completely harmless, Wilson catches Cameron staring at them out of the corner of his eye.
*
James lets slip that he thinks Greg’s eyes are beautiful.
Greg snaps at him and says a man is never beautiful. Women are beautiful. Men are handsome and charming and dashing, but not beautiful.
As he leaves, James takes note of the smile tugging at the corner of Greg’s lip.
*
They walk towards the car, House leaning into Wilson more than usual. Wilson’s arm is around his waist, letting him rest upon him, tired from the day. The rain and cold weather doesn’t make it any easier and they stop before they reach the car for House to close his eyes and draw in a breath. Smothering the pain down with determination but failing silently.
*
‘Are you having another affair?’
Wilson lifts his head. ‘I’m sorry?’
‘Are you cheating on your wife again?’ Cameron shuffles in her spot, cheeks just slightly pink. Wilson slips his pen into his pocket and licks his lips.
‘She knows.’
A beat.
‘So you are?’
Pause, one, two, three.
‘It’s really none of your business, Dr. Cameron.’
One, two, three.
‘I just think…’
Stand, two three. Turn, two three. Lead her from the room, one, two, three. ‘We’re seeing our divorce lawyers on Monday. And it’s still none of your business.’
One, two, three.
*
‘This is degrading.’
‘Oh, come off it. You know you like it.’
James sits down at the lunch table, making sure to tuck his coat under him as he sat. ‘Someone might see!’
Greg rolls his eyes and steals the other’s sandwich, sitting beside him. ‘How? You’re wearing pants for one thing. And you’ve got that damn white coat on all the time.’
James doesn’t say anything about Greg stealing his food, but pushes his cup of jello further from Greg. ‘But what if I have to piss? The guy next to me might look over, and what am I supposed to say? "Ho-ho, I just like to wear my wife’s red panties?"’ He snorts and pulls back the lid on his yogurt. ‘Like that will go down well.’
‘Well, he shouldn’t be looking over. Your dick is mine. Which reminds me, you’re due for your latest penile examination…’ Before James can ask why he needs his penis checked, Greg’s hand is cupping him. ‘Yup, everything seems in check.’
James tries not to shriek. ‘Greg! Not here!’
‘Like I say, keep your dick closer, but keep your best friend’s dick closer.’
‘You never say that.’
Greg pretended to think about it and shrugged. ‘No… but if I did, I’d be staying true to it.’
*
Greg’s hand trailed up and down James’ back. Soft, pleasant, and James would describe it later as caring. It was heading into summer, and the sheets were bunched up around their naked waists as they lay on their stomachs, turned to each other. Greg hadn’t asked anything, but James found himself whispering in response to an unanswered question.
‘She had… a buttplug. Aaand… she wanted me to use it. Not on her, though. On me. Aaand soon she didn’t even need to be naked. I’d still get off. Then one day… she went to visit her parents on Oregon. And I was alone…’
Greg ran his hands up the other’s back, pausing between his shoulder blades. ‘Liking anal doesn’t mean you’re gay.’
James shrugs. ‘But fantasizing about men does. Fantasizing about kissing them does. Fantasizing about dating them does… Fantasizing about fucking them does.’ James averts his gaze and focuses on the pillows instead. ‘I don’t want to be gay. I want to be straight. Because people like straight. Who wants a gay doctor? I should be married. I like boobs and shit. Getting off on fantasizing about being fucked up the ass by a man shouldn’t be so… so…’
‘Hot?’
‘Yeah.’
Greg’s hand falls from James’ back. It lands between them, touching the side of James’ arm. The silence stretches between them, and James is sure Greg has fallen asleep when his hand moves to the side of his face. Knuckle up his cheek, fingers around his chin, making him look Greg in the eye. When Greg seems certain James wasn’t about to look away, he moves his hand away and rests it on the small of his back.
‘I don’t think sexuality can be defined in such away. Heterosexual, homosexual- they’re rigid terms. Sure, some people maybe attracted only to men or only to women, but really, I think they’re few and far between. Some may even be lying to themselves. A majority of the population may very well be bisexual, but that’s thought to mean being attracted to both sexes equally. Some people may be attracted to some more men or some women more. Sexuality definitions are bullshit. You’re either this, that, or the other.
‘What if I’m mostly attracted to women? Can I only be straight? So if I fall in love with a man, does that mean I’ve been lying all along and really I’m a fudge packer beneath my supposedly straight exterior? Jimmy, you know I loved Stacy, you know I still have feelings for her. But here I am, lying naked in bed with you, and I’m completely happy like this. I’m not gay, but I’m not straight. And I’m not bi, because while, yeah, I’m attracted to men, I do prefer women. But what if I started to get feelings for… what’s the politically correct term… somebody’s who’s intersexual? Does that mean I’m suddenly pansexual? It’s all a load of shit, Jimmy.
‘If I want to have a boyfriend, I will. If I want to have a girlfriend, there’s no stopping me. Society has been so deeply rooted the past few hundred years, you’re either straight or you’re not. There’s no middle ground, and what middle ground there is, has been trampled on by a heap of teenyboppers who want to be different, just like everyone else. But I do what I want, James, and if I want to push you against a wall in the hospital and stick my tongue down your throat, I will. Not because I’m fucking making a stand, not because I fucking want to shock people or be different, but because I bloody well feel like it and I enjoy it, and I enjoy doing it with you.’ He stops for a breath. His cheeks are red, brow narrowed, eyes ablaze. James swallowed loudly. ‘Happy?’
‘People may not like it,’ James finally says.
‘Then they can just suck my dick. You can’t fire someone because of an issue with his or her sexuality without getting sued. And Cuddy… well, I know a few things about her past that might irritate a few bees in a few bonnets.’ Softer now, Greg’s lips pinched, hand slowly rubbing. ‘Jimmy, you have to stop getting pissed about what people think. The nurses already talk behind their hands about us. Christ, they probably have a kitty running to see how long it takes for us to go and admit it. Everyone else… they can go fuck themselves, because I’m busy fucking you.’
James laughs, a smile stretching across his features. ‘Okay, I get it.’
Greg kisses his forehead, then his nose, and settles down on the pillow. ‘Good.’
*
House snaps to Foreman, Chase and Cameron one day:
‘I never say, "I love you".’
Wilson smiles behind his cup of coffee as he remembers the night before when Greg murmured the last three words just before he drifted off to sleep, thinking James was asleep, as they curled around one another, his face buried into James’ neck.