Fic: Vintage Porn
Title: Vintage Porn
Author: Nemesis (Nems)
Pairing: House/Wilson, Wilson/OFC (brief!)
Rating: NC-17
Warnings: A very brief bit of het.
Summary: House finds out about Wilson's college days.
Disclaimer: Okay. *munches some popcorn*. I'm watching the credits now... Wouldja look at that! They don't say "Nemesis" anywhere near there. Not even in the random tech stuffs. Guess it's not mine then!
A/N: Betaed by my amazing, wonderful, extremely attractive husband and wives, benjimmy, 1lostone, and Cris. Dedicated to 1lostone, just because.
Dr. House is being forced would like to take this time and space to remind you that "puppies shouldn't be kicked, Chase is a whore, and reviews are love. Can I have a week off Clinic duty now?" Dr. Wilson would like to add, "Favorite lines are much appreciated, I'm told. Ditto for concrit."
“Vintage porn?” House asked, a bit skeptical.
“Top quality,” the absurdly young seller promised him. “Fifteen to twenty years old.” House doubted the seller was older than the porn he was trying to sell. Come to think of it, was the seller even eighteen? Well, he had to be, to be working here.
House frowned. “Come on. Porn’s porn. Why should I care how old it is? All I want is some hot chicks or hot guys - not terribly picky on this point - to jack off to.”
“Well, I don’t know, sir. If you say so, although the modern’s stuff… well. You know, it’s a bit… cheesy.”
House raised an eyebrow. It was a decent point. The porn was cheesy. But then again, he was using it to jack off, not to nominate it for an Oscar. “So, the vintage porn you’re trying to sell me, that’s not cheesy?”
“Well, not as.”
“You know what, one video.”
“Very well, sir. What kind would you like?”
“Show me the collection.”
The seller nodded and took down a box of videos. House perused them and finally picked up one that proclaimed to take you inside university students’ private lives. He rolled his eyes at the description, but chose it anyway.
***
House eyed the video curiously. Well. Porn of fifteen years ago… he felt old suddenly. He had watched porn fifteen, twenty years ago. Might even have seen this already. He might have seen this when it was new porn.
Stop being so maudlin, he instructed himself. Just pop in the damn video and jerk off.
He put in the video. He pulled his shirt off and stepped out of his jeans, leaving his boxers on for now. He sat down on the couch and turned it on.
There was a hot young woman - a teenager, really, barely over eighteen - strutting about on the screen in tight white pants and a very low-cut pink shirt. House spent a few enjoyable minutes ogling her breasts in the lacy bra. She was saying something, some long monologue about what she liked, but House tuned it out.
She pulled off her pink shirt, fully revealing her lacy pink bra, and pushed her pants down, showing off a matching thong.
House palmed himself through his boxers, his eyes riveted to the screen. The girl had flopped onto the bed, her legs spreading automatically. She ran her hand along her inner thighs, casting seductive looks at the camera. One hand went up to fondle her breast while the other continued stroking her thigh.
“You like to do it alone?” a gruff voice asked.
“Uh-huh,” she answered with a coy smile. The hand that had been between her legs went up to her mouth, and she began sucking two of her fingers. Fellating them. Her tongue slipped around and in between those fingers, moistening them, leaving them glistening in the pseudo-seductive lighting.
“Don’t you want some company?”
“Uh-huh,” she answered enthusiastically, although it sounded rather put-upon, as if she were trying to convey, ‘If I must’ with nothing more than two noncommittal syllables, and almost immediately, a young man entered. Another teenager.
House barely glanced at the newcomer, keeping his eyes on the girl, who was still fellating her fingers, hollowing her cheeks out as she sucked hard.
The man climbed onto the bed. He was good-looking, cute, with brown hair, brown eyes, and a nice, tight body hidden by a pair of jeans and a gray sweatshirt… House’s hand dropped away from his dick.
No fucking way.
Absolutely no fucking way.
House gaped at the TV. There was no way he was seeing what he thought he was seeing. He rubbed his eyes. Shut them and counted to ten, told himself that this was some strange psychological thing.
Because Wilson was the second porn star. The man who had just climbed onto the bed was Wilson. House stared at the screen in perverse fascination. Wilson, uptight, moral, nerdy Wilson, was in a porno.
Oh hell.
House watched as Wilson kissed the girl, running a hand down her body, moving to her legs. Stroking her thigh firmly, turn at the knee, up to hip, turn, down to knee, again and again. Moving in between her legs, skating his fingers over her thong.
Oh fucking hell.
House was hard. Really hard. His hand, traitorous thing that it was, moved back to his dick. He’d loved - yes, in that way - his best friend for years. This, though, felt… well, almost wrong in a way. It was his best friend.
Fuck that, he thought and kept watching.
Wilson’s fingers were rubbing at the girl’s clit, and damn that was hot. He was rubbing with almost clinical precision but also clear affection. He was nipping at her neck. She was arching into his touch, begging softly, clawing at his back with her long fingernails. House had watched a lot of porn and was quite good at differentiating between fake pleasure and real pleasure.
This was real pleasure.
House slipped his hand inside his boxers, squeezing himself roughly, his eyes still glued to the TV.
Wilson yanked his sweatshirt off, revealing his bare chest. House wondered idly with his few functioning braincells if Wilson had been wearing a shirt or not.
Wilson flopped back onto the bed, lay on his back, put his hands behind his head, and waited.
The girl slid down his chest, mouthed her way to the top of his pants. She undid them and drew out his hard dick, enveloping it immediately with her mouth. She ‘eagerly’ bobbed her head up and down, up and down, deep-throated him, bobbed up and down…
He pulled her off his cock (following the ancient porn ritual of seeing how long they could do this in how many positions before the male had to come) and shucked off his jeans.
Damn, he had a good body. Muscled, lean, well-proportioned… House drank in the sight hungrily and damned everyone who had seen this perfect body in person before. Mine, he thought angrily.
It was torture watching it. Exquisite torture. He was jealous.
Especially when Wilson moved onto fucking her. She spread her legs, arched her back, and keened as Wilson slid in carefully, picking up the pace almost immediately.
And, oh God, who knew his best friend could fuck like that? Sweaty and hot and flushed and almost slamming into her. He was grunting and swearing and (thankfully) not giving any awful, cheesy porn dialogue.
House’s hand hadn’t been idle. He was stroking himself roughly, in time to Wilson’s thrusts into the girl.
His orgasm rattled along him, burst out of him, coating his hand and the inside of his boxers with sticky fluid.
He turned the video off with his clean hand and pulled his other hand out of his boxers.
***
House thought about Wilson and porn all night. About how damn hot it had been. Thought about why Wilson had done it. Wilson, the absolute last person he would’ve expected to find in a porno.
He wondered what Wilson’s reaction would be if House told him he’d found the video.
He smiled to himself. Definitely something to try.
He turned his thoughts back to Wilson naked. He knew that Wilson wouldn’t look like that naked now, not after nearly two decades, but Wilson naked then or now was a hot thought no matter what.
He wondered what Wilson would look like naked now. Probably slightly pudgier, less toned. Maybe a tad bit less energetic, too.
House didn’t doubt, though, that it would still be the hottest thing he’d ever seen.
Especially Wilson coming.
***
House entered Wilson’s office without knocking. Wilson looked up from his paperwork and rolled his eyes.
“You’re looking very cat-in-the-cream today,” Wilson remarked. “Hand or hooker? Or did you just solve a particularly difficult case?”
House frowned consideringly at that. “Are you implying that my expression when I’ve had an orgasm and my expression when I’ve solved a case are the same?”
“Smug triumph,” Wilson answered. “More or less the same.” He signed something with a flourish, shut the chart, and put it on top of a pile.
House sucked in a breath. He was suddenly assualted with images from the video. Ridiculously sexy ones, like Wilson…
Not thinking of that now. Absolutely not. He was definitely not thinking of Wilson naked or fucking someone or coming… not at all.
“Any particular reason you’re here right now, or is it just to annoy me?”
“Isn’t that a good enough reason to be here?”
“Not when I have this much paperwork. House, what do you want?”
“Dinner?”
Wilson glanced up at his friend. “Pizza, beer, and a movie?”
House nodded.
“Sounds good. I’ll bring pizza, you have beer, and who should bring the movie?”
“Oh, I’ve picked one out already. Should be fun.”
“I’ll be there at seven.”
***
This could go horribly wrong. House knew it. Wilson could do any number of things, and House was clueless as to wich one he’d do. Maybe deny everything. Maybe he would be embarrassed but try to laugh it off. Maybe he’d get angry at House for reminding him of this.
House really hoped it was none of those. He knew what he wanted Wilson to do… he wanted to reenact parts of that video with Wilson.
Wasn’t likely at all, though. It wasn’t at all likely that Wilson would be interested. Wilson would probably take it as a joke, get pissy.
Not thinking of it, he told himself firmly.
There was a knock on the door. “It’s Wilson!”
“You have a key, don’t you?”
There was the unmistakable sound of a key scraping in the lock, and then the door swung open to reveal Wilson with a box of pizza in his hands. Wilson entered wordlessly, shut the door behind him, dropped the pizza on the coffee table with a, “Really, House, would it kill you to invest in a dining table?” and sat down on the couch.
House handed Wilson a beer and took a slice of pizza. “You’ll never believe the clinic patient that came in today. Unbelievable. Why he didn’t go to the ER is a mystery.”
“Well?” Wilson prompted. “What had he done?”
House waited until Wilson had swallowed his swig of beer. “He came in with a screwdriver in his ass.”
Wilson’s mouth opened in an ‘O’ of shock. “A screwdriver in his ass? Are you kidding me?”
House shook his head. Wilson dropped his head back and laughed uproariously. “Oh, that’s too good. How’d it get there?”
“He said he was taking a shower, sat down on a chair, which is when the screwdriver went up his ass.”
“Was it really?”
“Managed to drag it out of him. The story, I mean, not the screwdriver. Well. I managed to drag that out of him, too, but that’s a different - and far less interesting - story. Apparently, he and his wife decided to try something new, you see. He’s getting on in years and is having problems getting it up,” House intoned with a deep, serious voice that made Wilson snicker. “Doesn’t want to take ED meds because he says it’ll make him feel old. Not getting it up makes him feel pathetic, though, so he’s balancing an interestingly fine line here. Anyway, his wife did some research on interesting or new sexual positions, games, and toys they could try to stimulate him.”
“They actually listed screwdriver?”
“No, no, there’s more to this. She read about anal stimulation, and they decided to try it. With a screwdriver. Apparently, it was the only thing with a decent grip that was long in the house. Except for the knives, but even they weren’t about to try that out. So I asked him why they didn’t purchase, say, a dildo. He said that he would feel like a total pervert going into a sex shop.”
“Whereas going into the clinic with a screwdriver up his ass doesn’t make him feel at all like a pervert.” Wilson laughed. House loved watching him laugh, hearing him laugh, making him laugh. “Anything else fun?”
“Well, there was the guy who came in with a baby carrot in each ear.”
Wilson stared at House. “No way.”
House nodded. “Got stuck in his ear canal. Hurt like a bitch, he said.”
“Why did he have carrots in his ears?”
“Well, he said his neighbor was doing some rennovating, and the noise was intolerably loud. Earplugs didn’t work, blasting music in his own house didn’t work, nothing worked, and he really had to work. So he stuck two baby carrots in his ears because they fit and they blocked the noise well. And then he realized he couldn’t get them out again. So, instead of going to the clinic right away, he went to sleep. He figured they’d fall out on their own.”
Wilson laughed again, and House felt triumphant and pleased.
“So, what about this movie?” Wilson asked.
“Ah, yes.” House fidgeted uncomfortably. Moment of truth. “Thought we’d finish dinner first. Not exactly a movie to watch during dinner.”
Wilson looked down at the pizza box. “Well, I’m done. You?”
House nodded reluctantly. He was done, too, which was what made this so frightening. “Well. Alright then. Uh, I’ve fast-forwarded through the previews already.”
Wilson waved his hand dismissively. “Don’t care about those. Just turn the damn thing on. I thought you wanted to watch this.”
House plastered a fake smile on his face, turned the TV on, and pressed ‘Play’.
“Oh, porn,” Wilson commented, half-disappointed, half-pleased. “Should’ve guessed… oh my God.” He swallowed a few times, then turned to House and asked in a strangled tone, “House, where did you get this?”
“Store.”
“Were there many copies of this?”
“No, just this one, and before you accuse me of anything, I didn’t know you were in it when I bought it.”
Wilson glanced back at the screen. House looked too. Wilson - on-screen Wilson, that is - was kissing the girl and… he looked away again as Wilson began talking. “I… I don’t even know why you’re showing this to me.”
“I’m curious why my straight-laced, conformist best friend was in a porno, for one.”
“It was a… a dare. A stupid dare, but, well… I’ll tell you the story if you turn this damn thing off.”
House shut the TV off and turned to Wilson. “Spill.”
“Okay. It was after finals junior year. We got piss-drunk and started playing ‘Truth or Dare.’ And right around the passing-out-and-possibly-getting-in-the-ER-with-alcohol-poisoning stage, it was my turn. The dares had been growing, well, raunchier, and they dared me to be in a porno. So I called up one and made an appointment. After that, I kinda had to keep it, you know?”
House chuckled, envisioning a young, drunk Wilson calling up a pornography director and discussing being in a porn movie.
“Now answer my question. How are you going to humiliate me with this?”
“Why does our mind immediately jump to me humiliating you?”
“Because it’s what you do. Now answer.”
House shook his head. “I’m not going to humiliate you.”
“Then why show this to me?”
House looked uncomfortably at the floor. “I… it was stupid, fine.”
Wilson thought for a few minutes. House had some agenda, some idea in connection with the porn. He wondered how House felt about it, what House thought when he realized the porn featured Wilson. Wilson wondered whether House stopped masturbating when he realized it was his best friend.
Wilson wondered how he felt about House knowing.
As long as he didn’t get humiliated for it, he wasn’t sure if he should really care.
But damn, the image of House jerking off to him fucking a woman on-screen was hot.
“You know,” Wilson said slowly, consideringly. “If I hadn’t been doing it for a bet, I would’ve acted in gay porn.”
House’s gaze snapped up to his immediately.
Wilson leered. “I loved giving blowjobs.”
And it sounded like a line from porn, but then again, what had they been talking about all night?
House licked his lips unconsciously.
Wilson slid to his knees in front of House. He placed one hand on the fly of House’s jeans and looked up. If House was going to reject him, now would be the time.
House just stared at him in wide-eyed shock.
“I love blowjobs. Just love the feel of hard cock in my mouth, caressing my lips, sliding along my tongue, love the smell, the taste, the sight… The gasps and groans and moans, the indescribable throbbing, those little half-thrusts, the spurting…”
House groaned. Wilson undid the fly of House’s jeans and pulled out his half-hard cock. He ran his tongue along the length, relishing the moan House gave at the simple contact.
He swirled his tongue around the head, around and around and around, like a particularly perverted merry-go-round, mentally grinning at House’s whimpers.
He stretched his jaw and took House all the way in, bobbing his head up and down, flicking his tongue over the head every few strokes.
House was close already, undone by Wilson’s expert ministrations. Wilson ran his fingers up and down the length of House’s cock as he sucked hard on the head. He wrapped his fingers around the base and squeezed. He tightened and loosened his grip, sucking harder.
House threw his head back and bit his lip, his face contorted in ecstacy. His hips were making aborted thrusts into Wilson’s mouth.
Wilson sucked harder, and House came, groaning Wilson’s name. Wilson swallowed happily, his adam’s apple bobbing. He wiped his mouth and stood up. He grinned. House’s eyes were still shut, his jaw slack.
Wilson opened his pants and pulled out his own hard cock. He wrapped his fingers around and stroked roughly. Blowing House had made him hard and he was so close already.
House stirred and frowned. “My job,” he said huskily, batting Wilson’s hand away and replacing it with his own. At first his hand was cautious, slow, just not enough, but Wilson made a noise of frustration, and some deeper instinct took over. House tightened his grip and pulled harder and faster.
Wilson gasped and thrust into House’s hand. The lack of friction was almost painful, but before it could become a serious problem, he climaxed, his eyes sliding shut, his mouth falling open, a whispered ‘House’ falling negligently from his lips.
House moved his hand to catch the come and keep it from hitting his clothes.
Wilson sat down on the coffee table shakily, watching House with lidded eyes. House lifted his come-covered hand and licked a long stripe off.
Wilson gaped. House’s eyes lit up, and he licked the come off his hand entirely.
“So,” House said casually, “What other dares did you do in college?”
-- End
Author: Nemesis (Nems)
Pairing: House/Wilson, Wilson/OFC (brief!)
Rating: NC-17
Warnings: A very brief bit of het.
Summary: House finds out about Wilson's college days.
Disclaimer: Okay. *munches some popcorn*. I'm watching the credits now... Wouldja look at that! They don't say "Nemesis" anywhere near there. Not even in the random tech stuffs. Guess it's not mine then!
A/N: Betaed by my amazing, wonderful, extremely attractive husband and wives, benjimmy, 1lostone, and Cris. Dedicated to 1lostone, just because.
Dr. House is being forced would like to take this time and space to remind you that "puppies shouldn't be kicked, Chase is a whore, and reviews are love. Can I have a week off Clinic duty now?" Dr. Wilson would like to add, "Favorite lines are much appreciated, I'm told. Ditto for concrit."
“Vintage porn?” House asked, a bit skeptical.
“Top quality,” the absurdly young seller promised him. “Fifteen to twenty years old.” House doubted the seller was older than the porn he was trying to sell. Come to think of it, was the seller even eighteen? Well, he had to be, to be working here.
House frowned. “Come on. Porn’s porn. Why should I care how old it is? All I want is some hot chicks or hot guys - not terribly picky on this point - to jack off to.”
“Well, I don’t know, sir. If you say so, although the modern’s stuff… well. You know, it’s a bit… cheesy.”
House raised an eyebrow. It was a decent point. The porn was cheesy. But then again, he was using it to jack off, not to nominate it for an Oscar. “So, the vintage porn you’re trying to sell me, that’s not cheesy?”
“Well, not as.”
“You know what, one video.”
“Very well, sir. What kind would you like?”
“Show me the collection.”
The seller nodded and took down a box of videos. House perused them and finally picked up one that proclaimed to take you inside university students’ private lives. He rolled his eyes at the description, but chose it anyway.
***
House eyed the video curiously. Well. Porn of fifteen years ago… he felt old suddenly. He had watched porn fifteen, twenty years ago. Might even have seen this already. He might have seen this when it was new porn.
Stop being so maudlin, he instructed himself. Just pop in the damn video and jerk off.
He put in the video. He pulled his shirt off and stepped out of his jeans, leaving his boxers on for now. He sat down on the couch and turned it on.
There was a hot young woman - a teenager, really, barely over eighteen - strutting about on the screen in tight white pants and a very low-cut pink shirt. House spent a few enjoyable minutes ogling her breasts in the lacy bra. She was saying something, some long monologue about what she liked, but House tuned it out.
She pulled off her pink shirt, fully revealing her lacy pink bra, and pushed her pants down, showing off a matching thong.
House palmed himself through his boxers, his eyes riveted to the screen. The girl had flopped onto the bed, her legs spreading automatically. She ran her hand along her inner thighs, casting seductive looks at the camera. One hand went up to fondle her breast while the other continued stroking her thigh.
“You like to do it alone?” a gruff voice asked.
“Uh-huh,” she answered with a coy smile. The hand that had been between her legs went up to her mouth, and she began sucking two of her fingers. Fellating them. Her tongue slipped around and in between those fingers, moistening them, leaving them glistening in the pseudo-seductive lighting.
“Don’t you want some company?”
“Uh-huh,” she answered enthusiastically, although it sounded rather put-upon, as if she were trying to convey, ‘If I must’ with nothing more than two noncommittal syllables, and almost immediately, a young man entered. Another teenager.
House barely glanced at the newcomer, keeping his eyes on the girl, who was still fellating her fingers, hollowing her cheeks out as she sucked hard.
The man climbed onto the bed. He was good-looking, cute, with brown hair, brown eyes, and a nice, tight body hidden by a pair of jeans and a gray sweatshirt… House’s hand dropped away from his dick.
No fucking way.
Absolutely no fucking way.
House gaped at the TV. There was no way he was seeing what he thought he was seeing. He rubbed his eyes. Shut them and counted to ten, told himself that this was some strange psychological thing.
Because Wilson was the second porn star. The man who had just climbed onto the bed was Wilson. House stared at the screen in perverse fascination. Wilson, uptight, moral, nerdy Wilson, was in a porno.
Oh hell.
House watched as Wilson kissed the girl, running a hand down her body, moving to her legs. Stroking her thigh firmly, turn at the knee, up to hip, turn, down to knee, again and again. Moving in between her legs, skating his fingers over her thong.
Oh fucking hell.
House was hard. Really hard. His hand, traitorous thing that it was, moved back to his dick. He’d loved - yes, in that way - his best friend for years. This, though, felt… well, almost wrong in a way. It was his best friend.
Fuck that, he thought and kept watching.
Wilson’s fingers were rubbing at the girl’s clit, and damn that was hot. He was rubbing with almost clinical precision but also clear affection. He was nipping at her neck. She was arching into his touch, begging softly, clawing at his back with her long fingernails. House had watched a lot of porn and was quite good at differentiating between fake pleasure and real pleasure.
This was real pleasure.
House slipped his hand inside his boxers, squeezing himself roughly, his eyes still glued to the TV.
Wilson yanked his sweatshirt off, revealing his bare chest. House wondered idly with his few functioning braincells if Wilson had been wearing a shirt or not.
Wilson flopped back onto the bed, lay on his back, put his hands behind his head, and waited.
The girl slid down his chest, mouthed her way to the top of his pants. She undid them and drew out his hard dick, enveloping it immediately with her mouth. She ‘eagerly’ bobbed her head up and down, up and down, deep-throated him, bobbed up and down…
He pulled her off his cock (following the ancient porn ritual of seeing how long they could do this in how many positions before the male had to come) and shucked off his jeans.
Damn, he had a good body. Muscled, lean, well-proportioned… House drank in the sight hungrily and damned everyone who had seen this perfect body in person before. Mine, he thought angrily.
It was torture watching it. Exquisite torture. He was jealous.
Especially when Wilson moved onto fucking her. She spread her legs, arched her back, and keened as Wilson slid in carefully, picking up the pace almost immediately.
And, oh God, who knew his best friend could fuck like that? Sweaty and hot and flushed and almost slamming into her. He was grunting and swearing and (thankfully) not giving any awful, cheesy porn dialogue.
House’s hand hadn’t been idle. He was stroking himself roughly, in time to Wilson’s thrusts into the girl.
His orgasm rattled along him, burst out of him, coating his hand and the inside of his boxers with sticky fluid.
He turned the video off with his clean hand and pulled his other hand out of his boxers.
***
House thought about Wilson and porn all night. About how damn hot it had been. Thought about why Wilson had done it. Wilson, the absolute last person he would’ve expected to find in a porno.
He wondered what Wilson’s reaction would be if House told him he’d found the video.
He smiled to himself. Definitely something to try.
He turned his thoughts back to Wilson naked. He knew that Wilson wouldn’t look like that naked now, not after nearly two decades, but Wilson naked then or now was a hot thought no matter what.
He wondered what Wilson would look like naked now. Probably slightly pudgier, less toned. Maybe a tad bit less energetic, too.
House didn’t doubt, though, that it would still be the hottest thing he’d ever seen.
Especially Wilson coming.
***
House entered Wilson’s office without knocking. Wilson looked up from his paperwork and rolled his eyes.
“You’re looking very cat-in-the-cream today,” Wilson remarked. “Hand or hooker? Or did you just solve a particularly difficult case?”
House frowned consideringly at that. “Are you implying that my expression when I’ve had an orgasm and my expression when I’ve solved a case are the same?”
“Smug triumph,” Wilson answered. “More or less the same.” He signed something with a flourish, shut the chart, and put it on top of a pile.
House sucked in a breath. He was suddenly assualted with images from the video. Ridiculously sexy ones, like Wilson…
Not thinking of that now. Absolutely not. He was definitely not thinking of Wilson naked or fucking someone or coming… not at all.
“Any particular reason you’re here right now, or is it just to annoy me?”
“Isn’t that a good enough reason to be here?”
“Not when I have this much paperwork. House, what do you want?”
“Dinner?”
Wilson glanced up at his friend. “Pizza, beer, and a movie?”
House nodded.
“Sounds good. I’ll bring pizza, you have beer, and who should bring the movie?”
“Oh, I’ve picked one out already. Should be fun.”
“I’ll be there at seven.”
***
This could go horribly wrong. House knew it. Wilson could do any number of things, and House was clueless as to wich one he’d do. Maybe deny everything. Maybe he would be embarrassed but try to laugh it off. Maybe he’d get angry at House for reminding him of this.
House really hoped it was none of those. He knew what he wanted Wilson to do… he wanted to reenact parts of that video with Wilson.
Wasn’t likely at all, though. It wasn’t at all likely that Wilson would be interested. Wilson would probably take it as a joke, get pissy.
Not thinking of it, he told himself firmly.
There was a knock on the door. “It’s Wilson!”
“You have a key, don’t you?”
There was the unmistakable sound of a key scraping in the lock, and then the door swung open to reveal Wilson with a box of pizza in his hands. Wilson entered wordlessly, shut the door behind him, dropped the pizza on the coffee table with a, “Really, House, would it kill you to invest in a dining table?” and sat down on the couch.
House handed Wilson a beer and took a slice of pizza. “You’ll never believe the clinic patient that came in today. Unbelievable. Why he didn’t go to the ER is a mystery.”
“Well?” Wilson prompted. “What had he done?”
House waited until Wilson had swallowed his swig of beer. “He came in with a screwdriver in his ass.”
Wilson’s mouth opened in an ‘O’ of shock. “A screwdriver in his ass? Are you kidding me?”
House shook his head. Wilson dropped his head back and laughed uproariously. “Oh, that’s too good. How’d it get there?”
“He said he was taking a shower, sat down on a chair, which is when the screwdriver went up his ass.”
“Was it really?”
“Managed to drag it out of him. The story, I mean, not the screwdriver. Well. I managed to drag that out of him, too, but that’s a different - and far less interesting - story. Apparently, he and his wife decided to try something new, you see. He’s getting on in years and is having problems getting it up,” House intoned with a deep, serious voice that made Wilson snicker. “Doesn’t want to take ED meds because he says it’ll make him feel old. Not getting it up makes him feel pathetic, though, so he’s balancing an interestingly fine line here. Anyway, his wife did some research on interesting or new sexual positions, games, and toys they could try to stimulate him.”
“They actually listed screwdriver?”
“No, no, there’s more to this. She read about anal stimulation, and they decided to try it. With a screwdriver. Apparently, it was the only thing with a decent grip that was long in the house. Except for the knives, but even they weren’t about to try that out. So I asked him why they didn’t purchase, say, a dildo. He said that he would feel like a total pervert going into a sex shop.”
“Whereas going into the clinic with a screwdriver up his ass doesn’t make him feel at all like a pervert.” Wilson laughed. House loved watching him laugh, hearing him laugh, making him laugh. “Anything else fun?”
“Well, there was the guy who came in with a baby carrot in each ear.”
Wilson stared at House. “No way.”
House nodded. “Got stuck in his ear canal. Hurt like a bitch, he said.”
“Why did he have carrots in his ears?”
“Well, he said his neighbor was doing some rennovating, and the noise was intolerably loud. Earplugs didn’t work, blasting music in his own house didn’t work, nothing worked, and he really had to work. So he stuck two baby carrots in his ears because they fit and they blocked the noise well. And then he realized he couldn’t get them out again. So, instead of going to the clinic right away, he went to sleep. He figured they’d fall out on their own.”
Wilson laughed again, and House felt triumphant and pleased.
“So, what about this movie?” Wilson asked.
“Ah, yes.” House fidgeted uncomfortably. Moment of truth. “Thought we’d finish dinner first. Not exactly a movie to watch during dinner.”
Wilson looked down at the pizza box. “Well, I’m done. You?”
House nodded reluctantly. He was done, too, which was what made this so frightening. “Well. Alright then. Uh, I’ve fast-forwarded through the previews already.”
Wilson waved his hand dismissively. “Don’t care about those. Just turn the damn thing on. I thought you wanted to watch this.”
House plastered a fake smile on his face, turned the TV on, and pressed ‘Play’.
“Oh, porn,” Wilson commented, half-disappointed, half-pleased. “Should’ve guessed… oh my God.” He swallowed a few times, then turned to House and asked in a strangled tone, “House, where did you get this?”
“Store.”
“Were there many copies of this?”
“No, just this one, and before you accuse me of anything, I didn’t know you were in it when I bought it.”
Wilson glanced back at the screen. House looked too. Wilson - on-screen Wilson, that is - was kissing the girl and… he looked away again as Wilson began talking. “I… I don’t even know why you’re showing this to me.”
“I’m curious why my straight-laced, conformist best friend was in a porno, for one.”
“It was a… a dare. A stupid dare, but, well… I’ll tell you the story if you turn this damn thing off.”
House shut the TV off and turned to Wilson. “Spill.”
“Okay. It was after finals junior year. We got piss-drunk and started playing ‘Truth or Dare.’ And right around the passing-out-and-possibly-getting-in-the-ER-with-alcohol-poisoning stage, it was my turn. The dares had been growing, well, raunchier, and they dared me to be in a porno. So I called up one and made an appointment. After that, I kinda had to keep it, you know?”
House chuckled, envisioning a young, drunk Wilson calling up a pornography director and discussing being in a porn movie.
“Now answer my question. How are you going to humiliate me with this?”
“Why does our mind immediately jump to me humiliating you?”
“Because it’s what you do. Now answer.”
House shook his head. “I’m not going to humiliate you.”
“Then why show this to me?”
House looked uncomfortably at the floor. “I… it was stupid, fine.”
Wilson thought for a few minutes. House had some agenda, some idea in connection with the porn. He wondered how House felt about it, what House thought when he realized the porn featured Wilson. Wilson wondered whether House stopped masturbating when he realized it was his best friend.
Wilson wondered how he felt about House knowing.
As long as he didn’t get humiliated for it, he wasn’t sure if he should really care.
But damn, the image of House jerking off to him fucking a woman on-screen was hot.
“You know,” Wilson said slowly, consideringly. “If I hadn’t been doing it for a bet, I would’ve acted in gay porn.”
House’s gaze snapped up to his immediately.
Wilson leered. “I loved giving blowjobs.”
And it sounded like a line from porn, but then again, what had they been talking about all night?
House licked his lips unconsciously.
Wilson slid to his knees in front of House. He placed one hand on the fly of House’s jeans and looked up. If House was going to reject him, now would be the time.
House just stared at him in wide-eyed shock.
“I love blowjobs. Just love the feel of hard cock in my mouth, caressing my lips, sliding along my tongue, love the smell, the taste, the sight… The gasps and groans and moans, the indescribable throbbing, those little half-thrusts, the spurting…”
House groaned. Wilson undid the fly of House’s jeans and pulled out his half-hard cock. He ran his tongue along the length, relishing the moan House gave at the simple contact.
He swirled his tongue around the head, around and around and around, like a particularly perverted merry-go-round, mentally grinning at House’s whimpers.
He stretched his jaw and took House all the way in, bobbing his head up and down, flicking his tongue over the head every few strokes.
House was close already, undone by Wilson’s expert ministrations. Wilson ran his fingers up and down the length of House’s cock as he sucked hard on the head. He wrapped his fingers around the base and squeezed. He tightened and loosened his grip, sucking harder.
House threw his head back and bit his lip, his face contorted in ecstacy. His hips were making aborted thrusts into Wilson’s mouth.
Wilson sucked harder, and House came, groaning Wilson’s name. Wilson swallowed happily, his adam’s apple bobbing. He wiped his mouth and stood up. He grinned. House’s eyes were still shut, his jaw slack.
Wilson opened his pants and pulled out his own hard cock. He wrapped his fingers around and stroked roughly. Blowing House had made him hard and he was so close already.
House stirred and frowned. “My job,” he said huskily, batting Wilson’s hand away and replacing it with his own. At first his hand was cautious, slow, just not enough, but Wilson made a noise of frustration, and some deeper instinct took over. House tightened his grip and pulled harder and faster.
Wilson gasped and thrust into House’s hand. The lack of friction was almost painful, but before it could become a serious problem, he climaxed, his eyes sliding shut, his mouth falling open, a whispered ‘House’ falling negligently from his lips.
House moved his hand to catch the come and keep it from hitting his clothes.
Wilson sat down on the coffee table shakily, watching House with lidded eyes. House lifted his come-covered hand and licked a long stripe off.
Wilson gaped. House’s eyes lit up, and he licked the come off his hand entirely.
“So,” House said casually, “What other dares did you do in college?”
-- End