Fic: Bubbles
Title: Bubbles (Sequel to Hugs and Kisses, kind of a post-ep for Moving the Chains)
Author: rainbow_romeo
Pairing: House/Wilson pre-slash
Rating: PG-13
Words: ~3 300
Disclaimer: Nothing and nobody belongs to me.
Summary: House. Wilson. Bathtub. Click to see the art-summary!
A/N: I’m currently failing ridiculously at coming up with ideas. So I stole this idea from the drawing hockypocky did as a request for ragnarok_hound . And I also kind of stole from Loriot, since the picture reminded me of an old sketch of his. Click here to watch with English subtitles.
“I don’t believe this!”
It was quite difficult for House to suppress a smirk at his friend’s huffed exasperation. It wasn’t very often that he lost against the pull of his cheek muscles, but this time he failed instantly.
An annoyed Wilson was very entertaining. An annoyed Wilson with his hands on his hips was hilarious. However, an annoyed Wilson with his hands on his hips, wearing nothing but a towel and clutching a giant sponge was just too much, even for him.
The smirk disappeared to make room for a few seconds of whole hearted laughter and then his roommate was sighing melodramatically.
“This is my bathroom, which should be clear to you, since you had to go through my room to come here! I don’t care that you don’t have a bathtub in your room!”
House made an effort to cut off all laughter and pushed out his bottom lip as far as it would go, lowering his head to emphasize his looking up at Wilson. He was so great at pretend pouting.
“But my leg hurt and spending the night on a sofa didn’t help at all”, he whined and looked down, poking a few bubbles, doing his best to look dejected.
“I don’t care!” Another deep sigh and the typical hand stretched out in a blocking manner. “You know I don’t have too much of a problem with you using my bathtub if you need to. I get it, okay? But not when I want to take a bath! It’s Friday! We’ve been sharing an apartment for months and you know I take a bath on Friday night every time I don’t have to work the weekend!”
Okay, so he really did know that. He just hadn’t quite expected Wilson to be home this early, since the kid with the one and a half testicles, who’d had surgery the night before, had freaked and needed Wilson to explain for the three millionth time that he wasn’t impotent. House had gotten a ride home from Chase and planned to spend an hour in Wilson’s tub to soothe his leg.
At least he’d gotten about half an hour of peace and quiet.
“If your leg hurts that bad, use the heating pad you brought from Mayfield. It was enough all those months before we moved here!”
“Because the faucet didn’t work and the tub was uncomfortable. Now the heating pad is just second best and a bath helps two times more than an hour with the pad.”
House was very convinced that there was no fault in his logic at all. Bathing helped him feel better, feeling better meant he wouldn’t feel bad and not feeling bad meant he wasn’t a danger to himself and he was nicer to the people around him. Wilson should have been grateful he used his bathroom!
“I don’t care, House! I don’t care! You get out now! Go lay down with the heating pad or... I don’t know and I don’t care! I’m going to the kitchen and when I come back I will not see you in my bathtub any longer.”
The sponge was being thrown onto the mat in front of the bathtub and Wilson was stomping out. Huh. The other man really was adamant about taking a bath. With a shrug House sat up and reached over the ledge of the tub, ignoring the towel and grabbing Wilson’s sponge. It felt real and as soon as he had it soaked with water it turned incredibly soft. Well, it was Wilson’s, so it wasn’t much of a surprise that it was real instead of a 50 cent fake one.
Humming to himself he let the yellowish lump glide over his forearm until it splashed into the water. If he’d had anything to write, he would have made a note to find out where Wilson kept the thing so he could steel it for his next bath.
He didn’t feel too troubled about it, since he already knew every hiding place and even if he wouldn’t find it, he still had half an hour with it now. No way would he cut his bathing time short!
“You are incredible! House!”
Now the annoyed Wilson only had one hand on his hip, the other one was holding a cup topped with whipped cream. Mhhh, hot chocolate. House made another mental note to try bathing combined with drinking hot chocolate milk. And eating marshmallows!
“This ends now! Either you get out or... or I’m coming in!”
The man in the tub looked up, barely hiding his disbelief. He hadn’t expected that.
“I’m serious. Get out or I’m coming in.”
Too stunned to argue or move, House just stared at his friend. Wilson couldn’t actually mean that, could he? Sharing a bathtub went a little far, even for their screwed up, strangely borderless friendship. Especially since he was naked. And Wilson was most likely naked beneath his towel as well. They would be naked. Together.
In a bathtub.
“Well, if you’re okay with that, so am I. Scoot over, I get half the space.”
The younger man placed his cup onto the floor, careful to still put it in arms length, but far enough that a little splashing wouldn’t ruin his beverage. Seconds later his towel joined House’s on the bath mat and he lifted one leg after the other, joining House himself.
“Christ, are you trying to boil yourself here? The water is too hot!”, Wilson complained and turned on the faucet, letting cooler water into the tub.
“Hey! The temperature was perfect!”, House exclaimed, making to turn off the water, but a strong hand gripped his wrist.
“My bathtub, my rules, my water temperature.”
Wilson sat down, obviously careful to stretch out his legs next to House’s body so he would bump anything he wasn’t supposed to bump into. Well, as much as he could be supposed to do or not do anything when sharing a rather small tub with his best friend.
As soon as the water was a few degrees colder, he turned off the faucet and leaned back again, only to sit up a few moments later.
“Gimme that!”
But House was clutching the sponge in his hand, very much unwilling to let go of it. If he couldn’t have his peace, couldn’t even set the right water temperature, at least he should get the bath toys. Both men glared at one another, each with a hand on the sponge.
“I still have almost half an hour until my bath time is up. You can have it when I’m getting out.”
“But it’s mine! I’m already sharing my tub, I’m not going to share my sponge with you. It’s mine!”
“And they say I don’t play well with others”, House muttered, sinking down a little further so his knees stuck out higher and it was harder for Wilson to reach around them to the sponge.
“Fine. Be like that.”
For a few seconds he was close to expressing his triumph with a bright grin, but then Wilson turned towards the window and reached into the small space between the tub and the wall, coming up with what appeared to be an actual bath toy.
“You seriously have a rubber ducky?”
Once again House was stunned, but at least his surprise ensured that there wouldn’t be any envy visible on his face. Wilson knew a lot more about making bath time into something fun than he did. That had to change.
“Yes, I do. It was a gift. I got it when I moved into my own place after the first divorce.”
The little yellow duck floated happily through giant bubble mountains, but House’s bathing companion made sure it never crossed the middle line of the tub. That wasn’t nice and the older doctor decided that if Wilson wasn’t willing to share, he had to make him.
As soon as Wilson closed his eyes to relax, he sat up again, leaned out of the tub and grabbed the cup of hot chocolate. Of course he was caught, but only after he’d had a generous sip, licking off most of the whipped cream.
“That is mine, too! Give it back!”
Obviously Wilson wanted his drink a lot more than he’d wanted the sponge, because he actually sat up and scooted forward enough to get a firm hold on the cup. But House was just as determined as he had been about his new bath toy and slippery hands fought against each other until he lost his grip. Unfortunately the other man was surprised by his own victory, so the cup slipped from both their hands.
And emptied itself into the tub.
“Ewww, look what you did! I don’t want to bath in chocolate water!”
“Then get out and let me have the tub to myself again.”
“No, you have to get out and let me change the water.”
“I’m not getting out.”
“Well, neither am I and I won’t change the water as long as you’re in here.”
“Fine, then you have to bath in chocolate water!”
“Fine then!”
Now both of them were actually pouting, mostly because neither of them got to drink the hot chocolate and both of them really wanted to. But getting more would mean getting out of the tub and as soon as one of them did, the other would lock the door after him. With nothing more to do, they settled down, Wilson letting the duck float around in front of him, House soaking the sponge and placing it onto his shoulders to let the water run out of it again.
The silence was actually quite relaxing and because of the two warm bodies the water temperature took longer to drop. House’s leg felt better by the minute and not being able to focus on arguing or the pain, he started to focus on the strangely comfortable feeling settling in his chest.
He kind of enjoyed all this. Maybe.
He liked being with Wilson, he liked bathing and he was a big fan of comfortable silences and those couldn’t be any more comfortable than the ones between him and Wilson.
Yeah, he was actually okay with how this had turned out.
At least he was until his half hour was up and Wilson felt the need to remind him of that fact, destroying the silence and nice feeling.
“Your time is up. It’s my tub now. You have to get out.”
“But my leg doesn’t feel all better yet”, House whined and tried a more honest, less theatrical pout to convince his friend to let him stay.
“You’re not a puppy, you don’t look adorable just because you’re wet. You said you’d get out after half an hour.”
“No, I said my bath time was up. Don’t pretend you don’t know I never follow regulations, not even my own.”
“But House!”
“But Wilson!”
This time the annoyed Wilson crossed his arms in front of his chest, but the evil look didn’t really work, because he accidentally swept up the rubber ducky, whose beak was poking one of his nipples.
“Okay. You can stay, but I get the sponge and you get out in ten minutes.”
House didn’t quite agree with that, but he offered the sponge to the other man, so he would think he’d agreed to it. Ten minutes weren’t nearly enough, but at least he’d get ten more minutes of the nice silent time with Wilson.
He settled down again, sliding further than before so that his thigh was now resting against Wilson’s calf, which made the next ten minutes even nicer, because neither of them corrected the position.
“You’re not planning on getting out, are you?”
“Currently not, no.”
“I thought so.”
“Mh-mh.”
That got him five more minutes of quiet time and House was beginning to think that Wilson was also kind of okay with this. After the five minutes were up, he was disturbed again and opened his eyes, but the other man was still resting his head on the ledge of the tub, his eyes closed, so he slid his owned closed, too. Talking with their eyes closed made the talking thing a lot better, almost as comfortable as silence.
“You know, I should make you wash my back or something for letting you stay.”
“And how much longer would that buy me?”
“Ten more minutes.”
“Okay, I’ll do it in ten minutes.”
Unfortunately that left House with ten minutes to think about the fact that he was going to be washing his best friends back soon. He’d use the sponge, but he would still probably touch him and that was a novelty, because even though he’d gotten the occasional massage for his persistent aches, he hadn’t returned the favour. Sometimes they were resting against the other one’s side when they were sitting, so their arms and shoulders and thighs touched. Or they put a hand on the other one’s shoulder or gave a hand-up. So he’d touched Wilson’s shoulders, his arms, his hands, his thighs and now his calf, but he hadn’t ever touched his back.
He wondered if Wilson was skinny enough that he’d feel his spine and his ribs. Would he shudder like House did when someone ran a hand down the line of his spine? Would he sit up completely straight and arch his upper body when House touched the small of his back? Did washing his back mean he was also supposed to wash his neck and shoulders? Should he only rub as low as the surface of the water or lower? What would happen if…
“Time’s up.”
House was starting to feel anxious and watched intensely as Wilson drew up his knees so he could turn around. Then he was confronted with the complete length of his friend’s upper body and saw the sponge floating towards him.
“I’m waiting.”
“Yeah, yeah”, House muttered as he picked up the sponge, folded his good leg in front of him, so it was lying on the bottom of the tub, and slid closer. He could sit directly behind Wilson like this and he tried not to think about the fact that it would have been easy to straighten his leg again - on the other side of Wilson’s body.
He’d poured in enough soap earlier - to get many, many bubbles - and was able to use the soapy water alone to create a thin layer of foam as soon as he placed the sponge on his friend’s upper back and started moving it in small circles. For the first few moments he tried to come up with something to say, but then he heard a quiet little sigh of satisfaction, when he applied more pressure. No chance he would break the silence now.
That sigh had maybe almost been a moan and had sounded very, very nice. House was pretty sure he wanted to hear that again.
Despite his concerns he included Wilson’s neck and shoulders, stopping short of running the sponge down the other man’s chest. When the whole back was coated in white lather he knew that Wilson’s neck was one of the man’s erogenous zones, because he’d shivered slightly when the tips of House’s fingers had touched his skin there, and he also knew that the man was skinny enough that his ribs were palpable.
To extend his stay, he started again, rubbing the sponge over Wilson’s skin with even more pressure than before, almost massaging now. He was rewarded with two more maybe-almost-moans and his motivation sky-rocketed, so he started another round of back washing and dropped the sponge afterwards to really massage Wilson’s shoulders for a few moments. With his bare hands - flat, skin on skin.
“You feel like getting out now?”
House had to talk himself out of thinking that that voice could be described as maybe-almost-husky.
“No, not really.”
“I thought so. How about you get twenty more minutes if you wash my hair?”
“Deal.”
“But this time your part first. You can stay twenty more minutes after you wash my hair.”
“If I have to.”
He was good at sounding unenthusiastically when he really, really wasn’t.
“You have to.”
Wilson scooted forward to his end of the tub and leaned over the ledge to grab a bottle of shampoo, while House did absolutely not look when he got to his knees and his backside surfaced. He did look again to take the plastic bottle and got to business. After squirting out a portion of shampoo, he placed the bottle onto the window sill and then started to apply the soapy substance to Wilson’s hair, which was a lot thicker and softer than his own. He would have had to suppress another bout of envy, hadn’t he been completely mesmerized by his task.
Maybe he should have thought to become a barber. It was surprisingly relaxing to massage the lather into the other man’s hair and he even began to press his fingertips against Wilson’s scalp in hope of another quiet sigh slash moan.
He didn’t get one. He got the feeling of a hand gently taking hold of his ankle resting directly behind his friend.
“This can’t be comfortable.”
Now that voice was husky!
House’s hands froze for a moment while he comprehended what Wilson could be saying. Then the hand touching him moved his leg slightly and his cautious thoughts were proved right.
He had to rest his elbows on Wilson’s back in order to retain his balance while he drew his good leg up and straightened it next to the other man’s body, which was now resting in between is legs. His knees were touching Wilson’s sides and it was only a matter of sliding a little bit closer until they would be back to front again, just like they had been on the sofa in the oncology lounge.
But they hadn’t been naked then.
He had to be hallucinating.
“Now, this has to be better. You can go on.”
Still stunned House started moving his hands again. He concentrated on reaching every single hair and applying the same amount of pressure to every part of his scalp. Concentrating was good. Thinking about how close they were really wasn’t. It seemed like the position made it easier for Wilson to relax, because he became slightly more generous with his little sighs slash moans when House went low enough to rub the shampoo into the short hair on his neck.
He waited until the amount of lather got absolutely ridiculous before he made himself stop, dropping his hands into the water with an audible splash.
“Anything else?”, House asked with just the right amount of sarcasm to hide the slight tinge of hopefulness.
Wilson replied after a tiny bit of hesitation, almost as if he had been wracking his brain coming up with something else. At least that was what House tried to convince himself hadn’t happened.
“I wash my hair twice.”
“So I’d get another twenty minutes after the first twenty minutes?”
“I… Well.”
He could see the other man swallow and take a deep breath.
“That and we’d still have ten minutes for backwashing and another twenty for hair.”
“Huh?”
“I mean… If you’d like me to.”
No, he wasn’t feeling giddy.
“Yeah, I think I’d like that.”
End.