Title: Out of the Blue
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.
Spoiler Alert: This story involves spoilers for all seasons of House M.D. up to and including Season 8, Episode 14.
Word Count: ~1100
Rating: T(PG-13) for Adult subject matter, sexual suggestion.
A/N: This is written as a response to a suggestion made by Damigella_314 based on
the article from Cracked.com on the effects of fan fiction in pop culture. It’s based on the lovely artwork there by Laurazel.
Out of the Blue
It happened out of the blue, catching Wilson by complete surprise. He’d stopped briefly at House’s office on his way to the department head’s meeting to tell him that he wouldn’t be able to meet for lunch after all. House had nodded, countenance even, before he’d risen from his desk, walked around it, and up to him, standing well within Wilson’s personal space.
While it wasn’t all that unusual for House to invade his space, Wilson had taken an involuntary step backwards, eying his best friend cautiously, wondering what he was up to; knowing House, it could have been anything.
House had looked at him with an expression that could only have been described as wistful; there had been a hint of both regret and affection in his startlingly blue eyes that had fascinated and confused Wilson. Taking another step forward, a smile had toyed with the corners of House’s mouth; yet his eyes betrayed to Wilson his anxiety.
“Have you ever wondered what something would be like, but had always shied away from doing it because you were afraid the repercussions would be too grave?” House had asked him quietly, his voice had been fine silk to Wilson’s ears.
Uncertain exactly why, Wilson had felt a little uncomfortable having House stand so closely to him. It had been both imposing and exciting to feel the heat emanating off of the older man’s body, to smell the soap he’d used in the shower earlier that morning. He’d taken another step backward, swallowing thickly.
“Uh, sure,” Wilson had answered, fighting his tendency to stammer when he felt the least bit nervous. “I think everyone has at some point in their lives. Look, I have to go; I’m going to be late for the-”
“Did you ever decide that you couldn’t hold back from doing it any longer, because if you did, and something happened where you never had the opportunity again, you’d regret never having tried when you’d had the chance?”
House had taken another lengthy stride toward him, nearly bumping his chest against Wilson’s in the process. He’d looked down at Wilson through his eyelashes, those eyes of his suddenly appearing to burn scorching hot, sending a thrilling shiver down Wilson’s spine and had made him feel more than a little bit heady. When he’d tried to step back again, his back had hit the wall behind him.
“I-I, uh,” Wilson had stammered, finding it increasingly difficult to think in the closing proximity of his best friend. House had closed the remaining gap between them again, and Wilson had had nowhere left to retreat. House had been so close to him that their clothing had brushed when they’d breathed. There had been the familiar, pleasant feeling of warmth growing in his lower abdomen. He hadn’t been able to help staring at House’s mouth when he ‘d seen a close up of House’s pink tongue quickly run along the length of his lower lip. When he’d looked back up at House’s eyes, he’d seen amusement touch them and combine with unadulterated desire.
Leaning toward him and brushing a stray lock of Wilson’s hair into place, House had balanced himself with the other hand on the wall behind Wilson, his arm blocking the last way of retreat. “Wilson?” House’s voice had become little louder than a whisper.
“Y-yeah?” Wilson had answered, his body beginning to tremble against his will, but definitely not from fear. He had tried to ignore the increasing discomfort of sudden tightness in the front of his dress pants.
“Do you taste as good as you smell?” House had murmured, his eyes shifting to Wilson’s mouth. Before Wilson had had a chance to reply, House had leaned all the way in and pressed his slightly chapped lips against his best friend’s.
The world had suddenly melted and disappeared, and all that had remained had been the incredible sensation of House’s lips caressing his with a tenderness Wilson hadn’t imagined possible, and the shock of electricity through his body to his manhood. House’s eyes had fluttered shut half-a-second before Wilson’s. All he’d been able to do-or wanted to do-was kiss back.
So here Wilson was, his breath taken away, feeling House’s tongue press gently against his lips in a silent request for access to his mouth and wanting nothing more than to grant it. He opened just enough to allow House’s tongue passage and then groaned softly when said tongue caressed his.
Wilson had been carrying a file folder, but now he dropped it haphazardly to the floor, his hands coming to rest on House’s hips, pulling him closer, before he wrapped his arms around House’s waist in an embrace. It was House’s turn to moan. Wilson could feel himself becoming lightheaded from a lack of oxygen and was about to turn his face away long enough to breathe when House pulled out of the kiss first. He rested his forehead against Wilson’s, staring into his with soft, open blue eyes. They were filled with vulnerability and honesty. Wilson couldn’t help but smile and raise a hand to caress House’s cheek.
“Mmm,” House murmured with a smile, “you do.”
Wilson smirked at that before asking, “Don’t get me wrong I’m glad you did it, but…why now, after all these years?”
House shrugged. “It just felt like the right time,” he replied, his voice deep and rich with emotion, a rarity indeed. “Dinner. Tonight. My place. I’ll cook. Seven-thirty?”
Wilson was so drawn in by House’s eyes that he forgot to reply right away. Catching himself, he nodded, smiling sheepishly. “Uh, yes! You’ll cook? Wow. What should I bring?”
“Just you,” House answered, exhaling in obvious relief. He briefly kissed Wilson again, sweet and soft; then he backed away, lowering his arm and giving Wilson room to leave.
Wilson nodded, still stunned and smiling like an idiot. He picked up his scattered papers and put them back into the folder before heading for the door. He stopped when he reached it and looked back over his shoulder. House was already behind his desk, sitting down and returning his attention to his laptop. He didn’t appear to notice Wilson staring at him. With a fond look and a nearly imperceptible shake of his head, Wilson left House’s office, genuinely hopeful for the first time in three long years.