Reciprocity (House/Wilson) PG
Title: Reciprocity
Fandom: House
Pairing: House/Wilson
Rating: PG for language
Genre: Humor, Est. relationship, fluff
Word Count: 2325
Summary: The more you say, the less people remember. - Francois Fenelon. House and Wilson's morning after.
Note: Part of the Bordersauce Communication series (although, as per usual, it can stand alone). Takes place the morning after the events of Worth a Thousand Words. Written for barefootpuddles who won the story from me at the help_haiti auction.
Reciprocity
The steady throb of pain in House’s thigh dragged him slowly from the safety of sleep. The throb was an old companion, familiar and almost gentle in comparison to the mind-shattering pain it had been in the beginning. This morning it was nothing more than a low pull on his consciousness, a persistent reminder that sometimes the best medicine was the preventative kind. Obedient to this one thing only, House flung an arm out to grope for his little orange lifeline.
“Ow,” a sleepy voice complained when House’s arm hit miles of smooth warm skin instead of the top of his nightstand. Instinctively, House began stroking, tracing the line of spine with his fingers as Wilson hummed appreciatively and arched into the caress.
House’s mouth immediately bypassed his brain, and he whispered, “I love you.” before he’d even had time to process this day as their official awkward ‘morning after’
Wilson smiled groggily and shifted the necessary inch closer to place a sloppy, slightly sour kiss on House’s lips. It took more willpower than most people would believe House possessed to stop himself from deepening the kiss, crushing Wilson to him and trying to outdo last night’s impressive performance. Only the casual reminder from his thigh kept him in line.
“Morning breath,” House complained instead, making a face.
Wilson let out a laugh on a puff of breath, a knowing twinkle in his eye. “Really? Your breath is like sunshine and roses. Your love hasn’t magically transformed my mouth into a self-cleaning cave of minty freshness?”
“No more love for you until you brush,” House told him gruffly, leaning over Wilson to grab the bottle that had been his original goal. He swallowed one quickly, mentally reviewed the new activities he’d engaged in last night, and downed a second.
He glanced down at the man half pinned beneath him, prepared to give Wilson a lecture (or a cutting remark, those were really more his style) if Wilson thought that sleeping with House meant he could be even more disapproving of his Vicodin habit. But Wilson was paying no attention to House’s actions. Instead, he was staring with rapt fascination at House’s throat. When he saw House noticing him, Wilson flashed him the smile that made women three states over swoon and leaned up to drag his tongue slowly from the spot capturing his attention to the curve of House’s ear before slumping back down to the bed.
House shivered and cursed himself for being twelve kinds of an idiot before repeating, “Love you.”
Wilson surged up again at the words and latched onto House’s mouth with his own, thoroughly exploring every centimeter of House’s palate with his tongue. When Wilson released him with two more small kisses to House’s lower lip, House slid bonelessly down to his side of the bed, panting heavily.
Wilson propped himself up on an elbow to smile down at the older man. “See? Sunshine and roses,” he remarked before sliding out of bed and padding down to the bathroom.
House watched the spectacular sight of Wilson’s naked ass until it disappeared from his line of vision. Once there was no longer a good reason to be awake, House rolled over into the warm spot that Wilson had just vacated and allowed sleep to reclaim him.
The strangely domestic sounds of cooking woke House next. The smell of breakfast was enough to drag a weaker man out of bed and right into the welcoming embrace of morning. But House was not a weaker man. He wasn’t going to get up one second earlier than normal; no matter how much Wilson tried to seduce him with pancakes and syrup. It was important to set the rules of their relationship early, before Wilson got any ideas.
House remained stubbornly in bed for another fifteen minutes, imagining Wilson literally seducing him with syrup, before deciding that it wouldn’t be setting a dangerous precedent if he got up just a couple minutes early. He could always be that much later to work. And, as a bonus, he could even blame Wilson for making him late.
House smiled contentedly to himself, imagining the look on Cuddy’s face when he told her that Wilson’s insatiable sex drive had made him late, pulled on a pair of discarded sweatpants and padded down to the kitchen on bare feet. House sat at his table and dug into the plate of pancakes and bacon that were waiting for him. Wilson’s own plate was already rinsed and in the dishwasher. And, dear god, was he humming?
“Well, aren’t we Suzie Homemaker this morning?” House snarled. Wilson’s only response was to swoop down for another kiss on his way out of the room. Annoyed with Wilson’s continued good mood, House pressed, “Are you nesting? I thought you said you were on the pill.”
“Don’t worry. I’ll still go out and bring home the bacon; you can be the barefoot and pregnant one in this relationship,” Wilson called from the front room as he pulled on his jacket. “But stay out of the kitchen unless you’re planning on doing the dishes.”
“Fat chance,” House muttered to his plate.
“See you at work,” Wilson said from the open front door, smirking over his shoulder before adding, “Honey.”
House threw a napkin at him, and Wilson’s laughter lingered in House’s head long after he’d left. The sound sustained him through his slightly-later-than usual arrival at work, through two hours of hiding from clinic duty, and left him feeling almost happy about Cameron ‘accidentally’ acquiring a new patient for them just before lunch.
Almost.
“Okay fine,” he said off of Cameron’s pleading look, walking out of his office as he spoke. “We can keep him, but you have to feed him and walk him and clean up after him if he wees on the carpet.”
“Where are you going?” she asked, hurrying down the hall after him.
“Afternoon delight,” House answered, already opening the door to Wilson’s office.
Wilson, obviously on his way out, stopped in the middle of putting on his lab coat and raised an eyebrow speculatively. “Oh? Were you planning on seducing me over lunch?”
“If by seduce, you mean jerk you off against this door, then yes.” House grabbed the sleeve of Wilson’s coat and pulled until Wilson was a leaning against him, pressing into House, their combined weight slamming the door shut in Cameron’s face.
“Wilson, don’t encourage him,” Cameron called from the hall, “We have a patient to see.”
House hissed in annoyance and yelled back, “Stop cock blocking me. Go run some tests or something.”
“Tests for what? You haven’t even looked over his file yet.” It was amazing how she managed to project her disapproval through a closed door.
“Sorry, busy now,” House answered. Then, smiling wickedly at Wilson, “Oh yeah, baby. Right there. Harder.”
“What are you doing?” Wilson whispered. His hands, unfortunately, were nowhere near House’s groin.
“Just declaring my undying devotion for you to my employee,” House whispered back between groans. Wilson kissed House’s neck softly and buried his face there to stifle a laugh. After a few more minutes of pornographic noises House shuddered dramatically and with a loud “Wilson, I love you” reached the ‘climax’ of his performance.
Wilson leaned back to kiss House through his laughter and whispered, “You’re an idiot.”
House cocked his head with a frown. “I don’t believe that’s the appropriate response to a declaration of love.”
“No?” Wilson asked, still laughing. He leaned in to brush another kiss across House’s lips and said, “Lunch is on my desk. I have a consult across town, but I’ll pick you up after work?” When House nodded, he continued with a grin, “Try not to damage anyone permanently while I’m gone.”
House hopped aside to let Wilson pass. He heard Wilson apologize to Cameron out in the hall. “Sorry about that. Apparently, House needed to declare his undying devotion to me.”
“Right,” Cameron said, in a tone that implied she doubted Wilson’s sincerity. “I notice you didn’t feel the need to declare it back.”
“Exhibitionism isn’t really my thing.”
If there was more to Wilson’s answer it was lost as House heard two sets of footsteps walking away from the door. House frowned to himself. He replayed the events of the past two days over in his head, and noticed that while he’d used the l-word (and not the fun one) four times (which probably made him the woman in the relationship), Wilson had yet to answer in kind. Not even that first time, when Wilson had been the one insisting that House had to say it at least once.
House mentally scolded himself for being a girl and made his way across the small room to see what Wilson had left him for lunch. He pushed all thoughts of intimate confessions from his mind, and the rest of the day flew by quickly with their patient stymieing the team’s best efforts to diagnose him and some sort of interpersonal issue cropping up between Chase and Foreman that kept House amused for most of the afternoon.
In fact, when House looked up from the white board to find Wilson staring at him from the doorway, he was surprised by the lateness of the hour.
“Is there something on my face?” House asked with a faux glare.
“No,” Wilson answered with some confusion, stepping fully into the conference room and approaching House.
“Then why are you staring?” House growled.
“I missed you,” Wilson admitted somewhat sheepishly.
House tried and failed to suppress a smile. “It’s been…” House checked his watch, “…six hours.”
Wilson shrugged and nodded amicably.
“Great, I’m in love with a big sap,” House said, fighting a smile.
Wilson’s eyes smiled even as his lips brushed gently across the corner of House’s mouth. “So I’ve heard,” the oncologist said as he stepped back.
“I’m glad one of us has,” House grumbled, unaware that Cameron’s stupid comment was still bothering him until the words had passed his lips.
Wilson’s forehead wrinkled in confusion, causing his eyebrows to inch closer together. “What?”
House rolled his eyes both at Wilson’s incomprehension and at his own stupidity for speaking up in the first place. Well, if Wilson wanted to know what was going on, far be it for House to withhold the information from him. This was a teaching hospital after all. “I said that I’m glad at least one of has heard.”
Wilson’s eyebrows continued their dance by shooting up in unison, taking cover under the hair over his forehead. “You’ve never heard that you love me? Would you like me to carry around a tape recorder?”
House found himself desperately hoping that Wilson was mocking him. Surely his best friend couldn’t be as obtuse as he was currently behaving. “No, I’ve heard myself say it. Several times in fact.” Even through his fury House noted the corners of Wilson’s mouth tugging up at his uncharacteristic admission of devotion. “What I’m not hearing is any reciprocation.”
Wilson stared at him for a long moment, blinked once, and shook his head as if to clear it. “It’s reciprocated.”
House scowled at him. “You have a funny way of showing it.”
“Do I? I thought I’d been doing a good job of showing it.” Wilson’s voice held a note of exasperation. House had the feeling he was being lectured at, but the lesson eluded him for the moment.
Showing it. House’s overworked intellect only took a moment to latch onto the word. He reviewed every ‘I love you’ he’d uttered to Wilson again, thought about Wilson’s response each time he’d said not just the actual words, but anything that implied them, and tested the theory. “I love you,” he told the man facing him.
And right on cue, Wilson’s face lit up and he leaned in for a kiss.
“I thought,” Wilson began, pulling away only enough to look House in the eye. “I mean they’re just words, and everyone lies. Especially me, especially about that.”
House tried to stop him before this became a little more like a heartfelt conversation than he was comfortable with, “Wilson…”
Apparently Wilson had put a lot of thought into this; he overrode House’s objection and pushed on. “I’ve said those words to soothe bruised feelings, to prolong broken relationships, to get myself out of trouble. I’ve said them so much I wasn’t sure you’d believe they still hold meaning for me. And I didn’t want them to be meaningless, not with you.”
House pulled Wilson closer to him so that they were breathing the same air. “You’re an idiot,” he grumbled. “And so am I.”
Wilson arched an eyebrow. “Of course, if I’d known you were going to go all soft on me I’d have made the big romantic gesture. Want me to go onto the balcony and scream ‘James Wilson loves Greg House?’”
Wilson was teasing; House knew that for a fact, but his heart still surged as the words were finally spoken. They hung in the air briefly between them before House was devouring Wilson with his mouth.
Wilson pulled back, flushed and breathless, eyes laughing. “Whatever happened to reciprocity?”
“This is reciprocity,” House smirked. His eyes narrowed thoughtfully. “What do I have to say to get in your pants?”
Wilson’s expression turned mischievous. “Why don’t you try a few things? See what works. I know how much you enjoy an experiment.”
House opened his mouth to start his testing, but his patient chose that moment to have a life-threatening crisis. He groaned at his beeping pager, “Inconsiderate jerk. How dare he interfere with my steamy office sex?”
Wilson gave one short bark of laughter as he headed out the door. “No fishbowl office sex for you I’m afraid.”
House sighed dramatically, shoulders slumping in dejection. “Spoilsport.”
“That’s me,” Wilson called over his shoulder, “responsible, boring, and all around killjoy. But I do love you.”
You're more than a lover
There could never be another
To make me feel the way you do
Oh we just get closer
I fall in love all over
Everytime I look at you
I don't know where I'd be
Without you here with me
Life with you makes perfect sense
You're my best friend
You're my best friend, oh yeah
-My Best Friend (as recorded by Tim McGraw)
Click here to continue on to the next part of the series
Start from the beginning
The complete list of my House fic, including the Bordersauce Communication series, can be found here.
Fandom: House
Pairing: House/Wilson
Rating: PG for language
Genre: Humor, Est. relationship, fluff
Word Count: 2325
Summary: The more you say, the less people remember. - Francois Fenelon. House and Wilson's morning after.
Note: Part of the Bordersauce Communication series (although, as per usual, it can stand alone). Takes place the morning after the events of Worth a Thousand Words. Written for barefootpuddles who won the story from me at the help_haiti auction.
Reciprocity
The steady throb of pain in House’s thigh dragged him slowly from the safety of sleep. The throb was an old companion, familiar and almost gentle in comparison to the mind-shattering pain it had been in the beginning. This morning it was nothing more than a low pull on his consciousness, a persistent reminder that sometimes the best medicine was the preventative kind. Obedient to this one thing only, House flung an arm out to grope for his little orange lifeline.
“Ow,” a sleepy voice complained when House’s arm hit miles of smooth warm skin instead of the top of his nightstand. Instinctively, House began stroking, tracing the line of spine with his fingers as Wilson hummed appreciatively and arched into the caress.
House’s mouth immediately bypassed his brain, and he whispered, “I love you.” before he’d even had time to process this day as their official awkward ‘morning after’
Wilson smiled groggily and shifted the necessary inch closer to place a sloppy, slightly sour kiss on House’s lips. It took more willpower than most people would believe House possessed to stop himself from deepening the kiss, crushing Wilson to him and trying to outdo last night’s impressive performance. Only the casual reminder from his thigh kept him in line.
“Morning breath,” House complained instead, making a face.
Wilson let out a laugh on a puff of breath, a knowing twinkle in his eye. “Really? Your breath is like sunshine and roses. Your love hasn’t magically transformed my mouth into a self-cleaning cave of minty freshness?”
“No more love for you until you brush,” House told him gruffly, leaning over Wilson to grab the bottle that had been his original goal. He swallowed one quickly, mentally reviewed the new activities he’d engaged in last night, and downed a second.
He glanced down at the man half pinned beneath him, prepared to give Wilson a lecture (or a cutting remark, those were really more his style) if Wilson thought that sleeping with House meant he could be even more disapproving of his Vicodin habit. But Wilson was paying no attention to House’s actions. Instead, he was staring with rapt fascination at House’s throat. When he saw House noticing him, Wilson flashed him the smile that made women three states over swoon and leaned up to drag his tongue slowly from the spot capturing his attention to the curve of House’s ear before slumping back down to the bed.
House shivered and cursed himself for being twelve kinds of an idiot before repeating, “Love you.”
Wilson surged up again at the words and latched onto House’s mouth with his own, thoroughly exploring every centimeter of House’s palate with his tongue. When Wilson released him with two more small kisses to House’s lower lip, House slid bonelessly down to his side of the bed, panting heavily.
Wilson propped himself up on an elbow to smile down at the older man. “See? Sunshine and roses,” he remarked before sliding out of bed and padding down to the bathroom.
House watched the spectacular sight of Wilson’s naked ass until it disappeared from his line of vision. Once there was no longer a good reason to be awake, House rolled over into the warm spot that Wilson had just vacated and allowed sleep to reclaim him.
The strangely domestic sounds of cooking woke House next. The smell of breakfast was enough to drag a weaker man out of bed and right into the welcoming embrace of morning. But House was not a weaker man. He wasn’t going to get up one second earlier than normal; no matter how much Wilson tried to seduce him with pancakes and syrup. It was important to set the rules of their relationship early, before Wilson got any ideas.
House remained stubbornly in bed for another fifteen minutes, imagining Wilson literally seducing him with syrup, before deciding that it wouldn’t be setting a dangerous precedent if he got up just a couple minutes early. He could always be that much later to work. And, as a bonus, he could even blame Wilson for making him late.
House smiled contentedly to himself, imagining the look on Cuddy’s face when he told her that Wilson’s insatiable sex drive had made him late, pulled on a pair of discarded sweatpants and padded down to the kitchen on bare feet. House sat at his table and dug into the plate of pancakes and bacon that were waiting for him. Wilson’s own plate was already rinsed and in the dishwasher. And, dear god, was he humming?
“Well, aren’t we Suzie Homemaker this morning?” House snarled. Wilson’s only response was to swoop down for another kiss on his way out of the room. Annoyed with Wilson’s continued good mood, House pressed, “Are you nesting? I thought you said you were on the pill.”
“Don’t worry. I’ll still go out and bring home the bacon; you can be the barefoot and pregnant one in this relationship,” Wilson called from the front room as he pulled on his jacket. “But stay out of the kitchen unless you’re planning on doing the dishes.”
“Fat chance,” House muttered to his plate.
“See you at work,” Wilson said from the open front door, smirking over his shoulder before adding, “Honey.”
House threw a napkin at him, and Wilson’s laughter lingered in House’s head long after he’d left. The sound sustained him through his slightly-later-than usual arrival at work, through two hours of hiding from clinic duty, and left him feeling almost happy about Cameron ‘accidentally’ acquiring a new patient for them just before lunch.
Almost.
“Okay fine,” he said off of Cameron’s pleading look, walking out of his office as he spoke. “We can keep him, but you have to feed him and walk him and clean up after him if he wees on the carpet.”
“Where are you going?” she asked, hurrying down the hall after him.
“Afternoon delight,” House answered, already opening the door to Wilson’s office.
Wilson, obviously on his way out, stopped in the middle of putting on his lab coat and raised an eyebrow speculatively. “Oh? Were you planning on seducing me over lunch?”
“If by seduce, you mean jerk you off against this door, then yes.” House grabbed the sleeve of Wilson’s coat and pulled until Wilson was a leaning against him, pressing into House, their combined weight slamming the door shut in Cameron’s face.
“Wilson, don’t encourage him,” Cameron called from the hall, “We have a patient to see.”
House hissed in annoyance and yelled back, “Stop cock blocking me. Go run some tests or something.”
“Tests for what? You haven’t even looked over his file yet.” It was amazing how she managed to project her disapproval through a closed door.
“Sorry, busy now,” House answered. Then, smiling wickedly at Wilson, “Oh yeah, baby. Right there. Harder.”
“What are you doing?” Wilson whispered. His hands, unfortunately, were nowhere near House’s groin.
“Just declaring my undying devotion for you to my employee,” House whispered back between groans. Wilson kissed House’s neck softly and buried his face there to stifle a laugh. After a few more minutes of pornographic noises House shuddered dramatically and with a loud “Wilson, I love you” reached the ‘climax’ of his performance.
Wilson leaned back to kiss House through his laughter and whispered, “You’re an idiot.”
House cocked his head with a frown. “I don’t believe that’s the appropriate response to a declaration of love.”
“No?” Wilson asked, still laughing. He leaned in to brush another kiss across House’s lips and said, “Lunch is on my desk. I have a consult across town, but I’ll pick you up after work?” When House nodded, he continued with a grin, “Try not to damage anyone permanently while I’m gone.”
House hopped aside to let Wilson pass. He heard Wilson apologize to Cameron out in the hall. “Sorry about that. Apparently, House needed to declare his undying devotion to me.”
“Right,” Cameron said, in a tone that implied she doubted Wilson’s sincerity. “I notice you didn’t feel the need to declare it back.”
“Exhibitionism isn’t really my thing.”
If there was more to Wilson’s answer it was lost as House heard two sets of footsteps walking away from the door. House frowned to himself. He replayed the events of the past two days over in his head, and noticed that while he’d used the l-word (and not the fun one) four times (which probably made him the woman in the relationship), Wilson had yet to answer in kind. Not even that first time, when Wilson had been the one insisting that House had to say it at least once.
House mentally scolded himself for being a girl and made his way across the small room to see what Wilson had left him for lunch. He pushed all thoughts of intimate confessions from his mind, and the rest of the day flew by quickly with their patient stymieing the team’s best efforts to diagnose him and some sort of interpersonal issue cropping up between Chase and Foreman that kept House amused for most of the afternoon.
In fact, when House looked up from the white board to find Wilson staring at him from the doorway, he was surprised by the lateness of the hour.
“Is there something on my face?” House asked with a faux glare.
“No,” Wilson answered with some confusion, stepping fully into the conference room and approaching House.
“Then why are you staring?” House growled.
“I missed you,” Wilson admitted somewhat sheepishly.
House tried and failed to suppress a smile. “It’s been…” House checked his watch, “…six hours.”
Wilson shrugged and nodded amicably.
“Great, I’m in love with a big sap,” House said, fighting a smile.
Wilson’s eyes smiled even as his lips brushed gently across the corner of House’s mouth. “So I’ve heard,” the oncologist said as he stepped back.
“I’m glad one of us has,” House grumbled, unaware that Cameron’s stupid comment was still bothering him until the words had passed his lips.
Wilson’s forehead wrinkled in confusion, causing his eyebrows to inch closer together. “What?”
House rolled his eyes both at Wilson’s incomprehension and at his own stupidity for speaking up in the first place. Well, if Wilson wanted to know what was going on, far be it for House to withhold the information from him. This was a teaching hospital after all. “I said that I’m glad at least one of has heard.”
Wilson’s eyebrows continued their dance by shooting up in unison, taking cover under the hair over his forehead. “You’ve never heard that you love me? Would you like me to carry around a tape recorder?”
House found himself desperately hoping that Wilson was mocking him. Surely his best friend couldn’t be as obtuse as he was currently behaving. “No, I’ve heard myself say it. Several times in fact.” Even through his fury House noted the corners of Wilson’s mouth tugging up at his uncharacteristic admission of devotion. “What I’m not hearing is any reciprocation.”
Wilson stared at him for a long moment, blinked once, and shook his head as if to clear it. “It’s reciprocated.”
House scowled at him. “You have a funny way of showing it.”
“Do I? I thought I’d been doing a good job of showing it.” Wilson’s voice held a note of exasperation. House had the feeling he was being lectured at, but the lesson eluded him for the moment.
Showing it. House’s overworked intellect only took a moment to latch onto the word. He reviewed every ‘I love you’ he’d uttered to Wilson again, thought about Wilson’s response each time he’d said not just the actual words, but anything that implied them, and tested the theory. “I love you,” he told the man facing him.
And right on cue, Wilson’s face lit up and he leaned in for a kiss.
“I thought,” Wilson began, pulling away only enough to look House in the eye. “I mean they’re just words, and everyone lies. Especially me, especially about that.”
House tried to stop him before this became a little more like a heartfelt conversation than he was comfortable with, “Wilson…”
Apparently Wilson had put a lot of thought into this; he overrode House’s objection and pushed on. “I’ve said those words to soothe bruised feelings, to prolong broken relationships, to get myself out of trouble. I’ve said them so much I wasn’t sure you’d believe they still hold meaning for me. And I didn’t want them to be meaningless, not with you.”
House pulled Wilson closer to him so that they were breathing the same air. “You’re an idiot,” he grumbled. “And so am I.”
Wilson arched an eyebrow. “Of course, if I’d known you were going to go all soft on me I’d have made the big romantic gesture. Want me to go onto the balcony and scream ‘James Wilson loves Greg House?’”
Wilson was teasing; House knew that for a fact, but his heart still surged as the words were finally spoken. They hung in the air briefly between them before House was devouring Wilson with his mouth.
Wilson pulled back, flushed and breathless, eyes laughing. “Whatever happened to reciprocity?”
“This is reciprocity,” House smirked. His eyes narrowed thoughtfully. “What do I have to say to get in your pants?”
Wilson’s expression turned mischievous. “Why don’t you try a few things? See what works. I know how much you enjoy an experiment.”
House opened his mouth to start his testing, but his patient chose that moment to have a life-threatening crisis. He groaned at his beeping pager, “Inconsiderate jerk. How dare he interfere with my steamy office sex?”
Wilson gave one short bark of laughter as he headed out the door. “No fishbowl office sex for you I’m afraid.”
House sighed dramatically, shoulders slumping in dejection. “Spoilsport.”
“That’s me,” Wilson called over his shoulder, “responsible, boring, and all around killjoy. But I do love you.”
You're more than a lover
There could never be another
To make me feel the way you do
Oh we just get closer
I fall in love all over
Everytime I look at you
I don't know where I'd be
Without you here with me
Life with you makes perfect sense
You're my best friend
You're my best friend, oh yeah
-My Best Friend (as recorded by Tim McGraw)
Click here to continue on to the next part of the series
Start from the beginning
The complete list of my House fic, including the Bordersauce Communication series, can be found here.