"Semantics" House-fic House/Wilson angst ficlet Rating-R Wordcount-375
Title: Semantics
Fandom: House MD
Pairing: House/Wilson
Genre: Angst fic
Wordcount: 375
Rating: R
Notes: No spoilers. Written for photoash and hansolo5, House-fraus and angst-bunnies, both. I love you, guys. Unbeta-ed, and bleary-eyed so let me know if you see anything.
Summary: Wilson is the master of denial.
Wilson always told his wives about the cheating, but he never told them about fucking House.
When the time came for confession, he’d admit to the clandestine dinners and what had gone on in cheap hotels. They’d cry and beg him for more, so then he’d go into detail about every guilt-ridden lie and whispered endearment.
He didn’t talk about House because none of those things had ever happened with House. Just an unknown and possibly unknowable number of nights when alcohol and laughter had given way to a certain look that inevitably led to House’s bedroom.
What happened in there was never spoken of, never admitted in the light of day, and as long as they didn’t mention it, Wilson could pretend it hadn’t happened, and if it hadn’t happened, then it wasn’t really cheating. Besides, men didn’t count that way. If they did, he wouldn’t have bothered getting married.
Wilson’s wives hated House, accused House of taking Wilson away from them, and begged Wilson to stay with them. Wilson always went, but he came back as well, sometimes dirty, sometimes drunk and occasionally freshly showered.
But it still wasn’t cheating.
*****
House marvels at Wilson special brand of denial.
He’s managed to keep the friendship going without admitting that it’s also an affair and he’s managed to maintain the affair while denying that every time he fucks a woman, he’s cheating on House.
Their friendship may be a moral obligation, but he’ll never admit that he’s feeding House’s addiction with his cock as much as he is with his prescription pad.
House is forced to sit and listen while Wilson agonizes over his marriages, his affairs, his divorces and the next marriage, but he never gets to say the obvious; that Wilson’s whole life is a lie and that House could destroy him by confirming what everybody thinks anyway.
He knows that Wilson believes he can’t live without the lies, especially the one about how he’s not really screwing his best friend.
House hates the women, the lies, and Wilson’s clever use of words to get around his own guilt, and House lets him get away with it, which is more than he’d do for anyone else.
He’d rather be cheated on than abandoned.
Fandom: House MD
Pairing: House/Wilson
Genre: Angst fic
Wordcount: 375
Rating: R
Notes: No spoilers. Written for photoash and hansolo5, House-fraus and angst-bunnies, both. I love you, guys. Unbeta-ed, and bleary-eyed so let me know if you see anything.
Summary: Wilson is the master of denial.
Wilson always told his wives about the cheating, but he never told them about fucking House.
When the time came for confession, he’d admit to the clandestine dinners and what had gone on in cheap hotels. They’d cry and beg him for more, so then he’d go into detail about every guilt-ridden lie and whispered endearment.
He didn’t talk about House because none of those things had ever happened with House. Just an unknown and possibly unknowable number of nights when alcohol and laughter had given way to a certain look that inevitably led to House’s bedroom.
What happened in there was never spoken of, never admitted in the light of day, and as long as they didn’t mention it, Wilson could pretend it hadn’t happened, and if it hadn’t happened, then it wasn’t really cheating. Besides, men didn’t count that way. If they did, he wouldn’t have bothered getting married.
Wilson’s wives hated House, accused House of taking Wilson away from them, and begged Wilson to stay with them. Wilson always went, but he came back as well, sometimes dirty, sometimes drunk and occasionally freshly showered.
But it still wasn’t cheating.
*****
House marvels at Wilson special brand of denial.
He’s managed to keep the friendship going without admitting that it’s also an affair and he’s managed to maintain the affair while denying that every time he fucks a woman, he’s cheating on House.
Their friendship may be a moral obligation, but he’ll never admit that he’s feeding House’s addiction with his cock as much as he is with his prescription pad.
House is forced to sit and listen while Wilson agonizes over his marriages, his affairs, his divorces and the next marriage, but he never gets to say the obvious; that Wilson’s whole life is a lie and that House could destroy him by confirming what everybody thinks anyway.
He knows that Wilson believes he can’t live without the lies, especially the one about how he’s not really screwing his best friend.
House hates the women, the lies, and Wilson’s clever use of words to get around his own guilt, and House lets him get away with it, which is more than he’d do for anyone else.
He’d rather be cheated on than abandoned.