FIC: "Pretense and Truth", Robert Chase/Eric Foreman/James Wilson, Greg House/Eric Foreman
Title: Pretense and Truth
Author/Artist: hawkeyecat
Community: 30_lemons
Claimed Pairing/Fandom: Dr. Greg House and Dr. James Wilson, House, M.D.
Theme: 02. The Audience
Pairing: Chase/Foreman/Wilson; House/Foreman
Rating: Very much NC-17
Word Count: 1,053
Disclaimer: Quite sadly, I don’t own the show. Rarely have I more wished I did.
Author's Notes: Much credit is owed to cerieblue819, whose Triple Threat is quite inspirational. This piece is for her. Many thanks to sarcasticsra, who puts up with ridiculous requests like beta-reading porn at 8:30 AM her time.
It’s not often that it happens, but after a long enough day, when everyone concerned has loose enough inhibitions, the three men of the Diagnostics department and a spare-Wilson, despite how much he’s around, refuses to be directly associated with House’s department-meet up at House’s place. Normally, it only holds four men for House’s poker games, but these nights, he makes an exception.
These nights, House gets to watch.
At first, they made a pretense of meeting up for drinks, going over a case for the millionth time, getting fresh insight into what they could have done differently. After the fifth or sixth time, though, Wilson apparently decides he’d had enough of putting it off and pins Chase to the door as soon as they’re inside, holding his hands over his head and kissing him roughly. Chase, who-as they discovered two times ago-likes being tied up, bound in some way, writhes against Wilson, bucking his hips, and Foreman stops to watch with House before heading into the bedroom and stripping methodically. House briefly marvels at how unflappable Foreman is in the face of pure sex, then follows him in.
He’s making himself comfortable when Foreman comes over to the chair, the other two apparently still occupied out in the living room, and kisses him slowly, full of promise and unneeded assurances. Then Wilson and Chase enter, doing their best to strip each other before they get to the bed, and Foreman breaks off the kiss to take lube and condoms from the nightstand.
House is never sure how they decide who’s doing what; he has visions of late afternoon meetings in Wilson’s office to work out the logistics, and since everyone involved refuses to tell him, that works as well as anything. Equally possible is that Foreman manages to silently run everything, since Wilson tends to get involved in keeping pretty boy Chase as desperate as possible. This time, Foreman steals the ties Chase and Wilson had dropped, putting them to far better use tying Chase’s hands to the bedposts. Chase is practically begging for it, arms stretched out toward the posts, making little whimpering sounds as Wilson’s mouth traces a trail down his chest, leaving little red bite marks in his wake.
There’s a sudden shift, and Foreman’s between the other two, dark sandwiched by pale white, and he’s pushing two fingers roughly into Chase. Chase not only likes being tied up, he likes it rough. It’s led House and Wilson, and separately, House and Foreman, to speculate about how the banker was a cover for Chase’s own predilections. At the moment, though, Chase’s preferences are the last thing on House’s mind. Instead, he’s focused on how Wilson’s prepping Foreman while Foreman’s rolling on a condom and slicking it. He has to wait for Wilson to be ready, and by the time he is, Chase has his knees pulled up to his chest, and now he is begging for it, all Please and Foreman and Now.
House is somehow holding off touching himself, and he doesn’t know how the hell he’s managing it with this in front of him. Then again, he hardly needs to, the sight of Wilson in Foreman in Chase is so fucking hot. Chase is writhing on the bed, and Foreman in the middle is concentrating, and Wilson’s not going fast, not yet. The ease of the rhythm is amazing for their first time doing this, and House would figure out how they’re managing it if he wasn’t so focused on just watching.
Dragging his eyes briefly away from all the penetration, House notes that Wilson is using his mouth on the back of Foreman’s neck, his shoulders. It’s a quirk of Wilson’s, always leaving a mark, but Foreman never kisses or nips the other two. Chase, of course, is all mouth, given half the chance, and House once watched him blow Wilson and Foreman in turns.
The rhythm’s changed now, and Foreman’s balanced on his knees and one hand, other hand wrapped around Chase’s cock. It’s almost desperate now, all three trying to get off as fast as possible, Foreman completely setting the pace even though Wilson’s the one in him. Completely unsurprisingly, he comes first with a harsh gasp, and then he sets his mind to getting Chase off. The goal-oriented thing Foreman has going on pays off when Chase comes fast, and Wilson’s not far behind.
They all take a moment to recuperate, breathing hard, sweat drying in the warm air of the bedroom. Condoms are removed and tossed in the very convenient wastebasket House moved into the room for just such activities, and Foreman unties Chase’s hands so he can clean himself up with a corner of the sheet. Then Chase and Wilson are collecting their clothes, Wilson saying something about how Foreman never uses his own tie on Chase and Foreman just grinning, all teeth, in response.
Then they’re gone, and it’s just House and Foreman left, and Foreman advances on House, dropping easily to his knees as House spreads his legs and Foreman opens the fly of House’s jeans. His mouth is sure, doing exactly what House likes, and it can’t take more than five minutes for House to come, Foreman swallowing fast. He gets up and showers while House recovers, and by the time House is ready to wash off the sweat the incredible arousal created, Foreman’s back in the bedroom, giving House a questioning look. This always happens, Foreman unsure if he can stay the night, and House always says the same thing: I get the right. By the time House comes back to the bedroom to get in bed beside Foreman, Foreman’s drowsy, and he absently drapes his arm over House’s hips, kisses his neck. There’s no pretense of not caring, not in these few minutes before sleep, and House doesn’t return the affectionate gestures. He doesn’t have to, he figures; it’s plenty obvious to anyone who bothers to look. Instead, he shifts a little closer to Foreman before closing his eyes.
It happens sometimes, after a long enough day, when everyone concerned has loose enough inhibitions. But most nights, long day or not, House ends up like this, and he’s perfectly content with it. He doesn’t need to watch every night; this is enough.
Author/Artist: hawkeyecat
Community: 30_lemons
Claimed Pairing/Fandom: Dr. Greg House and Dr. James Wilson, House, M.D.
Theme: 02. The Audience
Pairing: Chase/Foreman/Wilson; House/Foreman
Rating: Very much NC-17
Word Count: 1,053
Disclaimer: Quite sadly, I don’t own the show. Rarely have I more wished I did.
Author's Notes: Much credit is owed to cerieblue819, whose Triple Threat is quite inspirational. This piece is for her. Many thanks to sarcasticsra, who puts up with ridiculous requests like beta-reading porn at 8:30 AM her time.
It’s not often that it happens, but after a long enough day, when everyone concerned has loose enough inhibitions, the three men of the Diagnostics department and a spare-Wilson, despite how much he’s around, refuses to be directly associated with House’s department-meet up at House’s place. Normally, it only holds four men for House’s poker games, but these nights, he makes an exception.
These nights, House gets to watch.
At first, they made a pretense of meeting up for drinks, going over a case for the millionth time, getting fresh insight into what they could have done differently. After the fifth or sixth time, though, Wilson apparently decides he’d had enough of putting it off and pins Chase to the door as soon as they’re inside, holding his hands over his head and kissing him roughly. Chase, who-as they discovered two times ago-likes being tied up, bound in some way, writhes against Wilson, bucking his hips, and Foreman stops to watch with House before heading into the bedroom and stripping methodically. House briefly marvels at how unflappable Foreman is in the face of pure sex, then follows him in.
He’s making himself comfortable when Foreman comes over to the chair, the other two apparently still occupied out in the living room, and kisses him slowly, full of promise and unneeded assurances. Then Wilson and Chase enter, doing their best to strip each other before they get to the bed, and Foreman breaks off the kiss to take lube and condoms from the nightstand.
House is never sure how they decide who’s doing what; he has visions of late afternoon meetings in Wilson’s office to work out the logistics, and since everyone involved refuses to tell him, that works as well as anything. Equally possible is that Foreman manages to silently run everything, since Wilson tends to get involved in keeping pretty boy Chase as desperate as possible. This time, Foreman steals the ties Chase and Wilson had dropped, putting them to far better use tying Chase’s hands to the bedposts. Chase is practically begging for it, arms stretched out toward the posts, making little whimpering sounds as Wilson’s mouth traces a trail down his chest, leaving little red bite marks in his wake.
There’s a sudden shift, and Foreman’s between the other two, dark sandwiched by pale white, and he’s pushing two fingers roughly into Chase. Chase not only likes being tied up, he likes it rough. It’s led House and Wilson, and separately, House and Foreman, to speculate about how the banker was a cover for Chase’s own predilections. At the moment, though, Chase’s preferences are the last thing on House’s mind. Instead, he’s focused on how Wilson’s prepping Foreman while Foreman’s rolling on a condom and slicking it. He has to wait for Wilson to be ready, and by the time he is, Chase has his knees pulled up to his chest, and now he is begging for it, all Please and Foreman and Now.
House is somehow holding off touching himself, and he doesn’t know how the hell he’s managing it with this in front of him. Then again, he hardly needs to, the sight of Wilson in Foreman in Chase is so fucking hot. Chase is writhing on the bed, and Foreman in the middle is concentrating, and Wilson’s not going fast, not yet. The ease of the rhythm is amazing for their first time doing this, and House would figure out how they’re managing it if he wasn’t so focused on just watching.
Dragging his eyes briefly away from all the penetration, House notes that Wilson is using his mouth on the back of Foreman’s neck, his shoulders. It’s a quirk of Wilson’s, always leaving a mark, but Foreman never kisses or nips the other two. Chase, of course, is all mouth, given half the chance, and House once watched him blow Wilson and Foreman in turns.
The rhythm’s changed now, and Foreman’s balanced on his knees and one hand, other hand wrapped around Chase’s cock. It’s almost desperate now, all three trying to get off as fast as possible, Foreman completely setting the pace even though Wilson’s the one in him. Completely unsurprisingly, he comes first with a harsh gasp, and then he sets his mind to getting Chase off. The goal-oriented thing Foreman has going on pays off when Chase comes fast, and Wilson’s not far behind.
They all take a moment to recuperate, breathing hard, sweat drying in the warm air of the bedroom. Condoms are removed and tossed in the very convenient wastebasket House moved into the room for just such activities, and Foreman unties Chase’s hands so he can clean himself up with a corner of the sheet. Then Chase and Wilson are collecting their clothes, Wilson saying something about how Foreman never uses his own tie on Chase and Foreman just grinning, all teeth, in response.
Then they’re gone, and it’s just House and Foreman left, and Foreman advances on House, dropping easily to his knees as House spreads his legs and Foreman opens the fly of House’s jeans. His mouth is sure, doing exactly what House likes, and it can’t take more than five minutes for House to come, Foreman swallowing fast. He gets up and showers while House recovers, and by the time House is ready to wash off the sweat the incredible arousal created, Foreman’s back in the bedroom, giving House a questioning look. This always happens, Foreman unsure if he can stay the night, and House always says the same thing: I get the right. By the time House comes back to the bedroom to get in bed beside Foreman, Foreman’s drowsy, and he absently drapes his arm over House’s hips, kisses his neck. There’s no pretense of not caring, not in these few minutes before sleep, and House doesn’t return the affectionate gestures. He doesn’t have to, he figures; it’s plenty obvious to anyone who bothers to look. Instead, he shifts a little closer to Foreman before closing his eyes.
It happens sometimes, after a long enough day, when everyone concerned has loose enough inhibitions. But most nights, long day or not, House ends up like this, and he’s perfectly content with it. He doesn’t need to watch every night; this is enough.