"Just Another Show" House MD House/Wilson Rating-R Wordcount-700
Title: Just Another Show
Fandom: House MD
Pairing: House/Wilson (references to House/Cuddy, Wilson/Girlfriend)
Rating: R
Wordcount: 700
Notes: Post ep for Both Sides Now. Submitted for mmom, Day 13. Thanks to topaz_eyes for major ass-kicking beta.
Warnings: Spoilers for Season 5, especially Under My Skin and Both Sides Now. Heavy angst. Dark!Wilson.
Summary: Why wasn't it him?
The only thing worse than thinking House had slept with Cuddy was knowing he’d hallucinated it.
Too bad House wasn’t here to mock his fucked up priorities. He’d get a good laugh out of this one, assuming that House ever came back.
In the meantime Wilson could only imagine what House had done while he was having that particular fantasy. Except he didn’t have to imagine. He’d seen it once and never forgotten.
The L Word. Sitting together on the couch, as they had so often. Only this time House, completely unashamed, undid his jeans and jerked off right in front of him while Wilson watched, mesmerized, but unable to reveal himself, physically or emotionally.
It should have been the beginning of something, or maybe the culmination of what had started in New Orleans, but Wilson couldn’t do it. He told himself there’d be other chances. He and House weren’t going anywhere. He had no way of knowing that so many things would pull them apart, and nearly destroy what Wilson had never been willing to admit they had.
Wilson found himself envisioning House, after he walked away from Wilson yet again, just when he’d finally admitted he needed help, giving Wilson a glimmer of hope. House had been alone, scared, angry and desperate, and who had he conjured up?
House didn’t trust him. That’s why he’d walked away, and treated himself to an imaginary night with Lisa Cuddy, his comfort and his reward even if it wasn't real. He saw House, his hand wrapped around his cock, those graceful fingers moving up and down, bringing himself to orgasm, as a smile played around his lips and instead of being the least bit happy for his friend, all he could think was, why the hell wasn’t it me?
They’d made the trip to the psych hospital in silence. House had lost his ability to laugh at himself, or chide Wilson for finally getting what he’d wanted all along, or even to make stray comments about bad drivers on the Turnpike, leaving Wilson to wonder about the hallucination the whole way. He’d almost asked House, but was afraid of the answer. He’d screwed up too many times, and it was easier for House to fall back on the obvious than risk another dose of Wilson’s need for social acceptability.
So House had spent the night believing he was with Cuddy, having what Wilson imagined was a long, drawn out session, and yeah, he was getting aroused thinking about it, even if he wasn’t in the picture.
He was drained from the long drive and the emotions of the day, but the power of the image was undeniable and Wilson needed something to break through the fear that had settled on him. The possibility that House wouldn’t make it, or that he’d be so different it wouldn’t matter.
The old House would definitely give him shit about being able to have a one-man party at a time like this, and bring up all the old jokes about Wilson’s sex life. This time, Wilson would finally admit how little most of it had meant to him, and how many times he’d been thinking of House while it happened. Maybe House would confess the same thing about his hookers.
Wilson found himself caught up in an emotional fantasy of reconciliation, where the unspoken was finally said, including the words that both of them had resisted for so long. It might not be realistic, but it was what he needed to believe in right now, and his dick was definitely along for the ride.
Screw the persona, he thought, his hand moving faster. If he got one more chance, he’d show House he wasn’t a coward. He’d break up with Aurelia and move in with House, cook and clean, maybe get his ear pierced…
He came somewhere between the cleaning and the ear-piercing, and enjoyed those few minutes of blissful self-delusion, before reality kicked him in the head.
Who was he kidding? (And it just had to be House’s voice asking the question.)
He’d look ridiculous with an earring, Aurelia’s mother was going through chemo, and House had hallucinated Cuddy.
Nothing could ever change that.
Fandom: House MD
Pairing: House/Wilson (references to House/Cuddy, Wilson/Girlfriend)
Rating: R
Wordcount: 700
Notes: Post ep for Both Sides Now. Submitted for mmom, Day 13. Thanks to topaz_eyes for major ass-kicking beta.
Warnings: Spoilers for Season 5, especially Under My Skin and Both Sides Now. Heavy angst. Dark!Wilson.
Summary: Why wasn't it him?
The only thing worse than thinking House had slept with Cuddy was knowing he’d hallucinated it.
Too bad House wasn’t here to mock his fucked up priorities. He’d get a good laugh out of this one, assuming that House ever came back.
In the meantime Wilson could only imagine what House had done while he was having that particular fantasy. Except he didn’t have to imagine. He’d seen it once and never forgotten.
The L Word. Sitting together on the couch, as they had so often. Only this time House, completely unashamed, undid his jeans and jerked off right in front of him while Wilson watched, mesmerized, but unable to reveal himself, physically or emotionally.
It should have been the beginning of something, or maybe the culmination of what had started in New Orleans, but Wilson couldn’t do it. He told himself there’d be other chances. He and House weren’t going anywhere. He had no way of knowing that so many things would pull them apart, and nearly destroy what Wilson had never been willing to admit they had.
Wilson found himself envisioning House, after he walked away from Wilson yet again, just when he’d finally admitted he needed help, giving Wilson a glimmer of hope. House had been alone, scared, angry and desperate, and who had he conjured up?
House didn’t trust him. That’s why he’d walked away, and treated himself to an imaginary night with Lisa Cuddy, his comfort and his reward even if it wasn't real. He saw House, his hand wrapped around his cock, those graceful fingers moving up and down, bringing himself to orgasm, as a smile played around his lips and instead of being the least bit happy for his friend, all he could think was, why the hell wasn’t it me?
They’d made the trip to the psych hospital in silence. House had lost his ability to laugh at himself, or chide Wilson for finally getting what he’d wanted all along, or even to make stray comments about bad drivers on the Turnpike, leaving Wilson to wonder about the hallucination the whole way. He’d almost asked House, but was afraid of the answer. He’d screwed up too many times, and it was easier for House to fall back on the obvious than risk another dose of Wilson’s need for social acceptability.
So House had spent the night believing he was with Cuddy, having what Wilson imagined was a long, drawn out session, and yeah, he was getting aroused thinking about it, even if he wasn’t in the picture.
He was drained from the long drive and the emotions of the day, but the power of the image was undeniable and Wilson needed something to break through the fear that had settled on him. The possibility that House wouldn’t make it, or that he’d be so different it wouldn’t matter.
The old House would definitely give him shit about being able to have a one-man party at a time like this, and bring up all the old jokes about Wilson’s sex life. This time, Wilson would finally admit how little most of it had meant to him, and how many times he’d been thinking of House while it happened. Maybe House would confess the same thing about his hookers.
Wilson found himself caught up in an emotional fantasy of reconciliation, where the unspoken was finally said, including the words that both of them had resisted for so long. It might not be realistic, but it was what he needed to believe in right now, and his dick was definitely along for the ride.
Screw the persona, he thought, his hand moving faster. If he got one more chance, he’d show House he wasn’t a coward. He’d break up with Aurelia and move in with House, cook and clean, maybe get his ear pierced…
He came somewhere between the cleaning and the ear-piercing, and enjoyed those few minutes of blissful self-delusion, before reality kicked him in the head.
Who was he kidding? (And it just had to be House’s voice asking the question.)
He’d look ridiculous with an earring, Aurelia’s mother was going through chemo, and House had hallucinated Cuddy.
Nothing could ever change that.