House/Wilson- Ablutions
House looked directly at the shower head as it rained down on him, dazzling his skin with streams of water, arching over his shoulders and down his back. He laid a hand on the blue tiled walls encasing him and breathed through the puff of steam that was winding around his body. Wilson opened the shower room doors and clicked across the tiles, leaning on the corner of House’s cubicle.
“I need to speak to you.” Wilson said, checking under his fingernails absently as House jumped further into the corner of the shower, his back to Wilson as he curved into the corner. Wilson gave a small laugh and looked House from the legs upwards, “Don’t worry Greg, you haven’t got anything I haven’t seen before.”
“I think you’ll find I have double what you’ve seen before.” Greg said spontaneously with a smirk, “Doesn’t give you the right to flood in on my shower. I understand you want to cop an eyeful but let me remind you what curiosity did to the cat.”
Wilson took a step back, forgetting what he had come to speak to House about, more sidetracked by the challenge House had built on the foundations of his uncompromising pose. Wilson wasn’t one to let go of a House war. “House I’m not as curious as you are.” Wilson unbuttoned his shirt and slid it over his back, a striptease for House even though House was finding it immensely difficult to look over his own shoulder.
“Is this a test? Is this why you are you supplying me with this racy burlesque show?” House commented, hosing soap from his back, still pointing inwards towards the blue tiles as Wilson dropped his shirt to the floor, his hands tucking at the buckle.
“Greg this is a shower room, where we strip. Men don’t hid from one another in shower rooms. Unless they have something to hide.”
It seemed to take Greg a while to think of a retort as he pulled his chin up, taking some of the water into his mouth to bide some time. “If I turn around, we will find ourselves in the most awkward position, believe me. Especially as you’re trying to make me happy by shedding your clothes.” Greg tucked his hand around the tap and twisted it until the water beat like fire drops against his skin, steam echoing the room. Wilson happily slipped his trousers over his feet and kicked them under the benches. He leant back against the cubicle, his boxers tickling his legs, unable to differentiate House’s body through the steam. Wilson saw it as a reflex as he reached through the steam, his fingers catching House on the back, stroking down as the water trickled. He felt a smile slide across his face as House jumped, shook by Wilson’s sudden touch, yet he didn’t say a word or protest.
Wilson made a slow entrance to the shower, his boxers sticking to him as he entered the shower a rain of red hot water cascading through each of them.
“How hot do you need one shower, House?” Wilson asked, through the pelting. Slowly turning, Wilson felt House against him, realising how compact these showers were. “As hot as I feel.” House retorted, his mouth inches from Wilson’s, he could almost feel House’s stubble against his cheek.
“Why are you still dressed, Wilson?” House asked, his left hand gliding over Wilson’s boxers. Wilson wound his arm around Greg’s back, and took a taste of House’s stubble, swiftly catching him on the mouth, pressing him against the shower cubicle wall. Pulling away, Wilson pinned Greg against the wall, his hands moving south, “Remind me Greg, what did curiosity do to the cat?”