House M.D. Fanfiction: Back Story, Ch. 16

[pgrabia]

Title:  Back Story

Author:  pgrabia

Disclaimer:  House M.D., its character’s, locations, and storyline are the property of David Shore, Bad Hat Harry Productions and Fox Television.  All Rights Reserved.

Characters/Pairing:  G. House, J. Wilson, L. Cuddy, other canon characters; House/Wilson pre-slash that will eventually become slash.

Genre:  angst, drama, romance, intrigue, suspense, AU.

Spoiler Alert:  All seasons including all of season 7.  Some are quite specific and detailed.  You’ve been warned.

Rating/Warnings:  NC-17 for all the smexing as well as violence and serious adult subject matter including drug and alcohol abuse, sexual and physical abuse, and suicide ideation-though not all chapters will involve explicit description of sexual activity (just most of them ;^D) or gore.

A/N:  This begins the morning after the last scene in episode 7x15, “Bombshells”.  While it follows the Canon timeline, this story focuses on the happenings, thoughts and feelings going on in the story we don’t have access to (or my idea of what occurred and will occur on into season 8.  Of course, this will run AU because spoilers about the first episode of season 8 are already out and point out that this is definitely not the official explanation for the baffling events that occurred in season 7).   More warnings in author’s note for chapter one.


Back Story

Chapter Sixteen

Wilson was true to his word about wrangling House and Cuddy together into the same room to discuss what they were going to do about Arlene’s lawsuit.  He nearly had to drag Cuddy along with him into a coma patient’s room where House had taken over the patient’s bed, laying the rightful occupant on the floor; both Cuddy and he reacted first with shock then with their ‘That’s House’ expressions on their faces.  House was busy watching his portable TV and eating popcorn.  Wilson groaned inwardly, feeling badly for the patient.

House looked lazily at them.  “Thought we were meeting in Cuddy's office.”

Which, Wilson mentally acknowledged, explains why House is here.

“And I put one of the radio frequency tagged sponges from the O.R. in your portable television.”  Wilson told him.  He hadn’t been friends with House for all these years and not learned a thing or two from him about being devious.

Cuddy decided this was her opportunity to fire the first shot.  “However much it hurt, I did have a right to break up with you.”

“You just want everything to have a hidden personal agenda,” House told her, opening the back of his TV to remove the sponge.

Wilson knew it was true.  When you were the center of your own universe like Cuddy was, everything was personal in one way or another.  Still, he had to referee them to ensure they got somewhere.

“You need to get over it instead of torpedoing our jobs out of spite,” the Dean told her ex angrily.  This was met with sarcasm and bitterness from House.

“Couldn't just be that you're a pain professionally.”

Wilson had to jump in; this was getting out of hand. “Stop! You're both at fault here.”  He pointed at Cuddy accusingly.  “You for trying to manipulate House when you used to know better, and you,” Wilson pointed now at House, “for… being you in this situation, which is an especially bad idea under the circumstances.”

“I had good reasons,” House defended but Wilson, as much as he loved him, wasn’t buying it.

Wilson retorted, “You had lame rationalizations.”

It was Cuddy’s turn to rationalize now.  “If I hadn't played him, he'd have found out about the meeting and crashed it anyway.”

That was likely true, Wilson knew, but this wasn’t helping.

“Would have been a lot more efficient,” House shot back, also not helping the situation.  Wilson sighed silently, wondering what kind of masochistic psychological complex he had that explained why he always placed himself in the position of middle man or mediator.

“Enough!” Wilson exclaimed, frustrated with both of them.  “Okay, here's what's gonna happen. Tomorrow I drive both of you to Arlene's. You're gonna write her a personal check for $30,000, and tell her she can stay in her own home with your blessing.”  He looked at Cuddy.  “You're gonna do this because you actually give a crap about your job and this hospital and your mother, and possibly even…House.”  Wilson then turned to speak directly at House, focusing on the end of his nose so he wasn’t influence by his lover’s big, beautiful blue eyes staring back at him.  “And you're gonna say, I'm sorry, and not utter one syllable more.”

He was serious about this and wanted both House and Cuddy to know it.  It wasn’t often Wilson confronted the both of them at the same time like this, but if they both were going to act like children then they needed someone to behave like the adult and get things back on track.

House gave him a defiant look.  “Because I'm an idiot?” he asked snarkily.

Wilson glared back at him.  Without thinking much about it, he blurted, “No, because if you don't, I'm gonna tell the pharmacy to stop issuing Vicodin prescriptions in my name.”

The gleam in House’s eye was reminder enough that House didn’t give a damn about that because he wasn’t taking real Vicodin.  Wilson realized how lame his threat was and groaned silently.  Sure, House was picking up the real stuff from the hospital pharmacy but was dumping it as soon as he got it home.  Wilson had seen him do it, feeling so proud of him.  However, there were other ways Wilson could punish House for disobedience and House knew it.

He silently said as much in his challenging glare back at House.  After a stand-off between them for what felt to Wilson like hours but was actually only a second or two, House conceded.

“I'm not paying for gas,” he added like a petulant child not getting his own way.

Wilson rolled his eyes at that.  Cuddy also agreed with Wilson’s plan and went to clear her schedule for the next day.

As soon as Cuddy had left the room House rose from the bed and closed the difference between Wilson and him, grabbing his boyfriend and kissing him passionately, drawing a small moan from Wilson’s throat.  When they parted House grinned at him lecherously.  “You’re unbelievably hot when you take charge, you know that?  What do you say we hop on this bed and have our little quickie now, hmm?”

“No!” Wilson answered, exasperated.  Besides the fact that the idea of having sex on the coma patient’s bed while the coma patient lay on the cold floor beside them made Wilson squeamish, he wasn’t about to be distracted by House’s obvious attempt to cause it.  “I’m serious about this situation with Arlene and Cuddy, Greg; we have to take care of this situation before Arlene takes this hospital down and you, Cuddy, and me with it.  As for our private plan, we said lunch and lunch it will be.  You’ll just have to wait.”

“But Jimmy,” House whispered; only he could figure out how to whine like a child and whisper all at the same time, “Little Greg wants Little Jimmy to come out to play now!  He’s lonely.”

“He’ll survive,” Wilson told him, rolling his eyes at his lover’s insistence on giving their dicks nicknames.  “House, we can’t afford to fuck this up.”

“You’re not the one getting sued.”

“What hurts you, hurts me,” Wilson told him seriously.  “It’s always been that way.”

__

House had Wilson hard against the wall of the storage room next door to House’s office on the other side, one hand holding Wilson’s hands above his head and pinned to said wall, the other hand around Wilson stroking his cock as he thrusted quickly inside of him.  His dick hit Wilson’s prostate over and over again, and it took everything Wilson had to keep himself from crying out each time.  His dress shirt was open at the neck, his tie hanging over the back of a broken visitor’s chair; his dress pants and boxer-briefs were around his ankles.  House’s pants and underwear were open and lowered but not completely past his hips; he kissed at Wilson’s neck and shoulder between pants, soft moans, and grunts.

The door was locked, but just the fact that House’s team sat one and a half rooms over having lunch as House fucked him was incredibly exciting for Wilson.

“Oh…Ah!-Greg!” Wilson gasped, trying to keep his voice down but finding it increasingly difficult to control himself as he came closer and closer to climaxing.

“Give it to me, Jimmy,” House growled in his ear, panting hard, dripping sweat onto the younger man’s shoulder.  “Come on, Baby…come for me…come for me, Jimmy.  Just let go!”

“S-so close-!”

House sucked hard on Wilson’s earlobe, moaning in his throat.  He gently bit down on it, and Wilson cried out just before he climaxed, shooting cum all over House’s hand and the wall.  Two more thrusts were all it took for House, who ejaculated hard inside of Wilson, filling him with his seed, continuing to rut until he was milked empty; his continued thrusts only served to extend the length of Wilson’s orgasm.

He leaned heavily against the wall with House leaning against him, his prickly face buried in the crook of Wilson’s neck.  House’s hot, moist breath tickled Wilson as he panted and they rode out their orgasms together.  House released his hold on Wilson’s hands and wrapped that arm around his lover’s torso, pulling him close.

“What a great…lunch,” Wilson panted when he found his voice again.

“Definitely beats…Reuben sandwiches….” House agreed, chuckling deeply.

“Can you imagine the money…I’ll save in a year if we do this…just one lunch break a week?” Wilson asked, grinning.  He turned around in House’s embrace so that his shoulder blades rested against the cool wall and wrapped his arms around House, too.

House smirked, amused, and leaned in for a loving, tender, lingering kiss.  He then leaned his forehead against Wilson’s, looking deeply into his eyes.  He reached up and cupped Wilson’s face with his clean hand, gently brushing his cheekbone with his thumb.  Wilson pressed his face into his partner’s touch, humming softly.

“I love you, Greg.”

“I know…I love you, too,” House responded.  His eyes became troubled.  “You’re not completely convinced of that.”

There was pregnant pause before Wilson found words he was willing to speak.  “I believe you love me, I do.”

“There’s a ‘but’ there,” House pointed out.

“You’re not as over Cuddy as you claim to be, or think you are,” Wilson told him, nodding.  “There’s a part of you that wants her back.”

“No,” House said firmly, shaking his head.  “I don’t.”

“Greg-”

“I don’t want her back!” House insisted.  He glanced away from Wilson for a moment, exhaled through his nose, and then returned his eyes to meet Wilson’s.  “I admit that…that my pride has been bruised by the way she threw me away like a used Kleenex.  I want her to hurt as much as I had at first.  If I didn’t have you…but I do, and you’re the one I’ve always wanted more than I ever wanted her.  It’s okay to question my motives when we are in public, around other people.  It’s necessary, but don’t…don’t question how I feel about you when it’s just you and me.  Tell me what I have to do to prove it to you….”

“Nothing,” Wilson told him, and smiled apologetically.  “You already have.  I’m just being-”

“Paranoid?” House offered.  “Suspicious?  Mistrusting?”

“Point taken,” Wilson assured him quickly, frowning slightly.  “Do we have to keep up this stupid act in public?  I’m telling you, Dominika knows about us.”

“I know,” House said grimly, nodding, “and she seems content to leave it alone so long as it doesn’t interfere with their plans, which she won’t even share completely with me.  Becoming public about us would do that, though.  For some reason everybody has to believe that I’m falling apart because of my break up with Cuddy, discrediting myself personally.  People wouldn’t believe that if they knew we were a couple now. ”

“This is going to destroy your future, Greg.”

“They promised me that the effects would only be temporary,” House assured him, not sounding completely convinced himself.  “If I cooperate, they’ll make certain my reputation is restored, what little good there is left to it in the first place.  My future…is you.  As long as I have you the rest doesn’t matter.”

“And you trust them to keep their word?” Wilson asked apprehensively.  “If they’re as powerful as you say, why would they go to the bother?”

“I told you,” he replied, “it’s part of their code.”  House kissed the end of Wilson’s nose.  “Everything will be alright so long as we follow their instructions.  If I didn’t think so, we’d be headed for the nearest airport and getting the hell out of Dodge.”

“What do they have you doing right now aside from disgracing yourself?”

“Still looking for a diagnosis,” House replied grimly.  “I think I have one…but they aren’t about to allow me to test my theory on their guy and risk him dying if I’m wrong, which really puts a cramp in my diagnostic process.  If I’m wrong…well, my will is in the wooden box hidden in my closet.  They’ll make it look like a suicide, or I’ll have a mysterious and deadly car accident-”

“Don’t even joke about that!” Wilson snapped, sotto voce.  Just the idea of anything happening to House turned his blood cold.

“It’s not a joke.”  House covered Wilson’s mouth with his before the latter could say anything more.  They kissed desperately, as if it might be their last.  Wilson could feel the fear and anxiety in House’s kiss and blended his own with it.

Their lips parted but their faces still remained less than an inch apart.

“Just play along,” House breathed.  “I’m drug-addled, losing my mind, spinning completely out of control because my last hope was Cuddy and I lost her.  You have to be as annoying about me getting back together with her as you’ve ever been and expect the unexpected.  I’ll keep you updated as much as I dare and don’t forget…I love you, Jimmy-always.  Now, as much as I lust after that ass of yours, it’s time to clean up, pick up trou, and get out of here.  I’ll wait five and then leave as well.”

__

The next day Wilson managed to wrangle together Cuddy and House for the confrontation with Arlene. The ride over was a silent one.  Wilson drove, House whined until he got the shotgun position because of his leg, and Cuddy sat in the back seat, arms crossed over her chest making her look like an angry, pouting child.  From time to time Wilson looked in his rearview mirror and saw Cuddy glaring daggers at the back of House’s head.  House, on the other hand, occupied himself with trying to inch his hand toward Wilson’s crotch without being caught.  He made it once.  Wilson reluctantly slapped his hand away.  House’s yelp attracted Cuddy’s attention.

“What’s going on up there?” she demanded.

“Nothing,” Wilson responded quickly, casting House a sidelong glare.

“I was trying to cop a feel but Wilson’s shy with my ex in the car,” House countered, a mischievous smirk in his eyes and on his face.

Cuddy simply shook her head and looked out the window, not believing him.  Wilson sighed silently in relief.  That was one discussion he didn’t want to have with her under these circumstances.

They pulled up in front of Arlene’s house, and Cuddy stepped out of the car before it completely came to a stop.  She led the way up the walkway to the house, determination in her stride but didn’t knock until House and Wilson caught up to her.  Wilson stood slightly behind Cuddy to her right, House to her left.

Arlene opened the door and stood there, staring at the trio expectantly.

“Mom, here's a check,” Cuddy said to her mother quietly, but Wilson could see her tense up with the effort of controlling herself.  “It’s a settlement for all you've been through. Of course you can stay in your home. It was wrong of me to suggest otherwise.”  She stepped back, closer to Wilson and House as if for physical as well as moral support.  Arlene looked to House next, smiling slightly and waiting for him to speak.  Wilson takes a deep breath, hoping for the best but expecting the…

“I'm sorry,” House began, and Wilson nearly smiled until he heard House continue, “that we saved your life.”  Then, as an afterthought he added, “In the way that we did.”

Well, it could have been worse, Wilson figured.  He looked at House and said, “B-plus.”  He directed himself to Arlene next.  “I hope this resolves everything. I can tell you that both your daughter and Dr. House-”

Arlene looked at the check and frowned, cutting Wilson off.  “This is thirty grand.”

“Which is what you asked for,” Wilson reminded her, but that didn’t please Arlene at all.

“This covers pain and suffering. What about the probate lawyer?” she demanded.  Wilson looked at her, nonplused.  Probate lawyer…?  Wilson glanced at House questioningly to find the other man giving him the same look.

He gestured between Arlene and Lisa.  “Do you two…?”

“I have to change my will, leave everything to Julia so this one doesn't try more funny business to get control of my home,” Arlene explained, glaring at her daughter.  Wilson saw Lisa bristle at her mother’s comment.

“I'm sure we can toss in another 2,500,” Wilson suggested feebly but was ignored.

Cuddy glared angrily at her mother and spat, “Well, I guess I'll have to kill you tonight then! Mom, I'm not interested in-”

“You already think you own my body. Why not my home too?”  Arlene asked accusingly, cutting Cuddy off.

Wilson noticed that House’s anger was building too.  It was obvious that he was furious with Arlene for treating her daughter that way.  House’s feelings, his protectiveness, were still strong for Cuddy-stronger than House would admit; it was something that made Wilson jealous in spite of himself.  He had to remind himself why he was there.

“Everybody stay calm, and-” Wilson began but it was clear that the situation was already beyond that.

“You have to lash out at everyone who tries to help you?” Cuddy asked her mother in frustration.  “Live in your own kitchen sink for all I care!”

Ever the one to take every opportunity to create more trouble, House turned to Cuddy, looking at her in mock-disgust and told her, “Harsh. I didn't think you had a case before, but that is no way to talk to a patient.”

Wilson glared at him but House either didn’t notice or didn’t care.

“You are right,” Arlene agreed.  She tore up the check and then shut the door on them.  Both Cuddy and Wilson looked at House, unimpressed with his last comment.  He stared back at them, unrepentant.  Cuddy shook her head and headed back to Wilson’s car.  Side by side, House and Wilson followed her, just out of earshot.

“You didn’t really think Arlene would go for your little pay-off plan, did you?” House asked.

Wilson shrugged and exhaled loudly.  “I was hoping she would.”

“Nah.”  House shook his head.  “Too easy.  She’s up to more than just seeking revenge or retribution.  I just wish I knew what.”

Wilson stared at his lover for a long moment.  “You’re not over Cuddy.”

“Of course I am,” House insisted, frowning.  “God, you’re insecure!”

Shaking his head, Wilson knew he wasn’t wrong.  “This isn’t insecurity.  This is observation.  I saw how uptight you were getting when Arlene was accusing and insulting Cuddy.  You still love her.”

“Of course I do,” House answered, keeping his volume down.  “A part of me always will…but I’m in love with you.  I thought we’d already settled this!  You’ve got to believe me.  ”

When Wilson didn’t answer, House grabbed his arm to stop him, to force him to look House in the eye.  “Don’t you?” he demanded.

Wilson searched House’s face, his eyes, looking for duplicity, but he couldn’t find it.  There was a raw earnestness staring back at him.

Before he could answer House, Cuddy called from beside Wilson’s car, “Hey, are you two coming or what?”

“Wilson?” House persisted quietly, ignoring her.

A lump formed in Wilson’s throat, and he swallowed hard against it then nodded.  “Yeah,” he murmured, “I do.”  He gave House a smile he wasn’t certain he felt.  House seemed to relax somewhat upon hearing that.

“Good.  Now I don’t want to talk about this anymore.”

They hurried to the car without another word to each other.

Back to Ch. 15

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