FIC: After Hours [House]
TITLE: After Hours
DISCLAIMER: I don't own Gregory House or James Wilson. They belong to David Shore (I think), and I only borrowed them for a little while. I didn't make any money off this, nor do I intend to.
FANDOM: House, M.D.
PAIRING: House/Wilson
RATING: I'd say 15 and up for suggestive dialogue.
WARNINGS: Spoilers for "Cursed". Slash, but then you already knew that, didn't you?
WORD COUNT: 1,029
NOTES: Originally was going to be a regular drabble to post to house100 just so that I could feel vaguely accomplished, but the drabble itself felt too small, so I let it balloon, and here it is. Bon appetit. Oh, and much thanks to amazonqueenkate for her beta-ing assistance. Without it, this fic would have probably languished for longer than a day on my compy. Squee.
***
Wilson wasn't surprised when he found House in his office. Seeing as how he'd already finished his clinic duty for the day, and the Reilich boy was already out of the woods, if the brief conversation he had with Chase earlier was anything to go by.
The sun was starting to set behind House's shoulder, though he seemed to be busy with his Gameboy. Knowing him, it was probably another game of Tetris.
Opening the door, he popped his head in. "Tetris?" he asked, raising both eyebrows in order to look vaguely interested in whatever House was doing.
House glanced up briefly and snorted. "Like you care. C'mon in."
Wilson entered, closing the glass door behind him.
"So, what brings you to my humble abode?" House asked. "No blonde thingies taking you out to dinner?"
Wilson shook his head, refusing to be baited. "No, she had to go home and take care of her son."
House's eyebrows shot up. "Oh, this one has kids? I thought you tried to avoid those as much as possible."
Wilson snorted. "Speaking of kids, Chase doesn't seem especially shaken up by his father dying of cancer."
House shrugged, his eyes drifting down too casually, neatly avoiding Wilson's gaze in favor of his Gameboy. "Kids these days. They don't know proper mourning etiquette or anything."
Wilson smiled slowly. "You didn't tell him."
House sighed. "Couldn't."
"Oh?" Wilson's eyebrows rose at that. "How come?"
"Well, him telling me that he'd grown up learning that if he didn't give a damn about his father, it wouldn't hurt as much... Kinda put a dampener on the whole thing." He looked up, pursed his lips and nodded. "Not nearly as entertaining."
Wilson pursed his lips, and nodded once. "Yeah, that would take all the fun out of it, wouldn't it?"
House nodded. "Yeah."
Wilson looked at him for a long moment. House still looked the same, large blue eyes rapt on his Gameboy, the unkempt five o'clock shadow making his face darker, the dark curly hair still somewhat tamed. The man was a complete bastard, a misanthrope. There were a number of reasons that Wilson could name off the top of his head why he shouldn't have found him attractive at all.
And then there were days like today, when House proved him wrong in a pleasantly surprising way.
Wilson pushed himself off the wall he was leaning against, walking around House's desk. When he was standing next to House's chair, House looked up, a curious eyebrow raised.
He suspected he had a hint of a smile on his face, but he reached out anyway, his index finger under the scruffy chin encouraging House to tilt his head back. The kiss took its time, lips parting and tongues reacquainting themselves at a leisurely pace. Wilson untangled himself piece by piece, finally drawing back and looking into bright blue eyes.
House gave a smug chuckle. "I should surprise you like that more often, if that's the kind of response I'm gonna get."
Wilson snorted with amusement. "Don't count on it happening every time. Keep it up, and I'm gonna start expecting it out of you."
"I dunno if I could keep up such high standards of bedside manner," House returned. "Hell, you should be glad I didn't spill the beans to Junior."
"I *am*," Wilson admitted in a low voice
"Oh, you're just a big softy," House murmured, a small smile tugging at his lips. Leaning forward, he caught Wilson's lips again in a brief kiss. "You should go."
Wilson purred for a moment, pretending to consider the suggestion. "And miss more fun with you and your ducklings?"
"Hmph. The kid's better, and I'm pretty sure the ducklings have gone back to their respective ponds for the night." House pointed out before looking more closely at Wilson's face with something close to affection coloring his features. "You look tired."
"I feel tired," Wilson admitted. "Mind if I come home with you?"
House artfully widened his eyes. "And leave poor Julie alone by herself?"
Wilson snorted. "I doubt she's alone tonight."
House blinked. "She's cheating on you." He sounded surprised at that, but if the surprise was because Julie was cheating or that he was surprised at being surprised, Wilson couldn't readily figure out.
Wilson shrugged. "Seems fair in a way."
"Gives you good standing to keep most of your stuff this time around."
"Trust me, she's got more dirt on me." Wilson shook his head. "So, you want company tonight, or not?"
House pretended to consider it for a moment. "Ah, what the hell. I could always use a good minion to do my laundry."
Wilson stared at him. "You're kidding."
"My laundry's already devoured my hamper, and it's making good process toward my bed." House looked up at him from under his eyelashes, his posture screaming smug and very amused. "You're the one asking to come home with me, after all."
Wilson sighed. "So, what's it going to be tonight to get me out of laundry duty? Playing doctor?"
House snorted. "You think I wanna bring work home with me?"
Wilson started at him for a long moment. "It's not like it's something radically different."
House cocked his head, swiveled in his chair from side to side once as he looked up contemplatively at Wilson. "Well, I do have this cute little French maid number that you'd look absolutely adorable in…"
"Absolutely not."
House rolled his eyes. "You know I was just teasing."
"Given the amount of porn next to your TV, I wouldn't be surprised."
"All right, fine," House sniffed. "You can just be my plain, old vanilla sex slave, then."
Wilson frowned. "Aren't I always?"
House smirked, looking more like Satan than a run-down doctor with a bum leg. "Now, *that's* the kind of attitude I like in my minions."
"Oh, and what's that?" Wilson asked, raising an eyebrow, leaning over House with a hand on the arm of House's chair, and the other resting on the edge of the desk.
Without breaking eye contact, House reached out with one hand. Confidently cupping Wilson through his ironed, dry-cleaned slacks, he smirked again at Wilson's gasp.
"Submissive."
END
DISCLAIMER: I don't own Gregory House or James Wilson. They belong to David Shore (I think), and I only borrowed them for a little while. I didn't make any money off this, nor do I intend to.
FANDOM: House, M.D.
PAIRING: House/Wilson
RATING: I'd say 15 and up for suggestive dialogue.
WARNINGS: Spoilers for "Cursed". Slash, but then you already knew that, didn't you?
WORD COUNT: 1,029
NOTES: Originally was going to be a regular drabble to post to house100 just so that I could feel vaguely accomplished, but the drabble itself felt too small, so I let it balloon, and here it is. Bon appetit. Oh, and much thanks to amazonqueenkate for her beta-ing assistance. Without it, this fic would have probably languished for longer than a day on my compy. Squee.
***
Wilson wasn't surprised when he found House in his office. Seeing as how he'd already finished his clinic duty for the day, and the Reilich boy was already out of the woods, if the brief conversation he had with Chase earlier was anything to go by.
The sun was starting to set behind House's shoulder, though he seemed to be busy with his Gameboy. Knowing him, it was probably another game of Tetris.
Opening the door, he popped his head in. "Tetris?" he asked, raising both eyebrows in order to look vaguely interested in whatever House was doing.
House glanced up briefly and snorted. "Like you care. C'mon in."
Wilson entered, closing the glass door behind him.
"So, what brings you to my humble abode?" House asked. "No blonde thingies taking you out to dinner?"
Wilson shook his head, refusing to be baited. "No, she had to go home and take care of her son."
House's eyebrows shot up. "Oh, this one has kids? I thought you tried to avoid those as much as possible."
Wilson snorted. "Speaking of kids, Chase doesn't seem especially shaken up by his father dying of cancer."
House shrugged, his eyes drifting down too casually, neatly avoiding Wilson's gaze in favor of his Gameboy. "Kids these days. They don't know proper mourning etiquette or anything."
Wilson smiled slowly. "You didn't tell him."
House sighed. "Couldn't."
"Oh?" Wilson's eyebrows rose at that. "How come?"
"Well, him telling me that he'd grown up learning that if he didn't give a damn about his father, it wouldn't hurt as much... Kinda put a dampener on the whole thing." He looked up, pursed his lips and nodded. "Not nearly as entertaining."
Wilson pursed his lips, and nodded once. "Yeah, that would take all the fun out of it, wouldn't it?"
House nodded. "Yeah."
Wilson looked at him for a long moment. House still looked the same, large blue eyes rapt on his Gameboy, the unkempt five o'clock shadow making his face darker, the dark curly hair still somewhat tamed. The man was a complete bastard, a misanthrope. There were a number of reasons that Wilson could name off the top of his head why he shouldn't have found him attractive at all.
And then there were days like today, when House proved him wrong in a pleasantly surprising way.
Wilson pushed himself off the wall he was leaning against, walking around House's desk. When he was standing next to House's chair, House looked up, a curious eyebrow raised.
He suspected he had a hint of a smile on his face, but he reached out anyway, his index finger under the scruffy chin encouraging House to tilt his head back. The kiss took its time, lips parting and tongues reacquainting themselves at a leisurely pace. Wilson untangled himself piece by piece, finally drawing back and looking into bright blue eyes.
House gave a smug chuckle. "I should surprise you like that more often, if that's the kind of response I'm gonna get."
Wilson snorted with amusement. "Don't count on it happening every time. Keep it up, and I'm gonna start expecting it out of you."
"I dunno if I could keep up such high standards of bedside manner," House returned. "Hell, you should be glad I didn't spill the beans to Junior."
"I *am*," Wilson admitted in a low voice
"Oh, you're just a big softy," House murmured, a small smile tugging at his lips. Leaning forward, he caught Wilson's lips again in a brief kiss. "You should go."
Wilson purred for a moment, pretending to consider the suggestion. "And miss more fun with you and your ducklings?"
"Hmph. The kid's better, and I'm pretty sure the ducklings have gone back to their respective ponds for the night." House pointed out before looking more closely at Wilson's face with something close to affection coloring his features. "You look tired."
"I feel tired," Wilson admitted. "Mind if I come home with you?"
House artfully widened his eyes. "And leave poor Julie alone by herself?"
Wilson snorted. "I doubt she's alone tonight."
House blinked. "She's cheating on you." He sounded surprised at that, but if the surprise was because Julie was cheating or that he was surprised at being surprised, Wilson couldn't readily figure out.
Wilson shrugged. "Seems fair in a way."
"Gives you good standing to keep most of your stuff this time around."
"Trust me, she's got more dirt on me." Wilson shook his head. "So, you want company tonight, or not?"
House pretended to consider it for a moment. "Ah, what the hell. I could always use a good minion to do my laundry."
Wilson stared at him. "You're kidding."
"My laundry's already devoured my hamper, and it's making good process toward my bed." House looked up at him from under his eyelashes, his posture screaming smug and very amused. "You're the one asking to come home with me, after all."
Wilson sighed. "So, what's it going to be tonight to get me out of laundry duty? Playing doctor?"
House snorted. "You think I wanna bring work home with me?"
Wilson started at him for a long moment. "It's not like it's something radically different."
House cocked his head, swiveled in his chair from side to side once as he looked up contemplatively at Wilson. "Well, I do have this cute little French maid number that you'd look absolutely adorable in…"
"Absolutely not."
House rolled his eyes. "You know I was just teasing."
"Given the amount of porn next to your TV, I wouldn't be surprised."
"All right, fine," House sniffed. "You can just be my plain, old vanilla sex slave, then."
Wilson frowned. "Aren't I always?"
House smirked, looking more like Satan than a run-down doctor with a bum leg. "Now, *that's* the kind of attitude I like in my minions."
"Oh, and what's that?" Wilson asked, raising an eyebrow, leaning over House with a hand on the arm of House's chair, and the other resting on the edge of the desk.
Without breaking eye contact, House reached out with one hand. Confidently cupping Wilson through his ironed, dry-cleaned slacks, he smirked again at Wilson's gasp.
"Submissive."
END