Sweet Summer Watermelon - (House/Wilson)
Wilson sat nervously on the edge of House's couch. He was bouncing his right knee up and down, and biting his nails in a desperate attempt to calm himself down.
Today was the day.
A few weeks ago, House had taken it upon himself to show the neighborhood punk that an old cripple like him could skateboard way better than he could. A monetary bet was made, and Wilson pulled up into the driveway with just enough time to watch in horror as the skateboard glided effortlessly down the porch railing, leaving House in a motionless heap on the front steps.
One black eye, a ripped tie, and an Indian-Rug-Burn later, Wilson managed to convince House to go to the hospital to get himself checked out. House walked out of the ER bandaged, gauzed, and sporting a neon pink leg cast.
"Ladies love pink," House had said when Wilson raised an eyebrow. "Now they'll be all up on me wanting to sign it."
The worst of his injuries, at least it Wilson's opinion, was the broken coccyx. It was likely that Wilson classified this as the worst because it effected him negatively as well.
It was simple really: A broken coccyx meant no sex. Not for awhile anyway. But awhile was just long enough to give Wilson a wandering eye. And he had told himself that he wouldn't do that.
Not this time around.
Not with House.
And so, Wilson had found himself masturbating so often, and with such fury, that if his hand never made contact with his cock again, that would be fine with him.
But today...today was the day House was going to get his cast removed, and Wilson was more than confident that his coccyx had had enough time to feel better. Oh yes, House's coccyx would be up for the task of pleasing Wilson. And if not...well, what's one more Vicodin to ease the pain?
"Honey! I'm home!"
Wilson jumped up at the sound of House's sarcastic declaration, quickly glancing himself over in the hall mirror.
The door opened, and in limped House sporting a neon pink cast and a blow up donut seat.
"I thought...they were removing that today?"
House shut the door and tossed the donut seat at Wilson. It grazed past his ear and landed with a delicate plop on the floor. "It's nice to see you too." He furrowed his brows and gave Wilson the once-over. "What are you wearing?"
Wilson glanced down at himself. He thought he looked pretty hot in his bondage collar and tight, black, latex boxers.
"You...don't like it?"
"Not when my leg's snapped in half and my ass is still broken." House tossed his cane onto the floor and lowered himself onto the couch, fluffing up a pillow behind his head, his bright pink cast resting on top of the couch arm, mocking Wilson.
Wilson felt his face flush. "I'm sorry. I just thought that after so long-"
"Unlike you, I can actually refrain from sex for more than 4 hours."
"So can I!"
"Not according to your calloused hands."
Wilson sighed. "So I like sex? Sue me, House. It's not like your mouth is broken you know. You could...help me out in other ways that wouldn't agitate your injuries and give these a break now and then." Wilson held up his hands, palms up, and pouted.
"The only thing I want in my mouth right now is food. And something of sustenance before you say anything perverse. A million little Wilson's won't do anything for me."
Wilson balled his fists and stormed into the kitchen.
Now, the only thing worse than a sex-deprived Wilson is an angry one, and as he rummaged through the kitchen to the sweet sound of House's snores, he decided that House would digest a million little Wilson's whether he wanted to or not.
And so, as he scooped out an opening in the watermelon that he had bought for desert, he closed his eyes and imagined instead that he was working House, getting him ready for entry. And, when he finally pushed himself inside, he was thankful that House had neglected to put the melon in the fridge. The room-temperature of the flesh made it all the easier for Wilson to pretend he was pumping himself into House.
When he was done, and had pulled himself out of the watermelon, he glanced around the kitchen at the mess he had made. Pieces of watermelon and juice were seemingly everywhere.
"And you wonder why I don't want you anywhere near my broken ass."
Wilson jumped at the sound of House's voice behind him, and just about died of embarrassment.
House took a bite out of a piece of watermelon that had landed on the counter beside him. He smirked, held it up, muttered thanks and then limped his way back to the couch, leaving Wilson alone with a destroyed watermelon and an ego so broken it was beyond repair.