Words in the Staffroom (NC-17)
posted to house_wilson and house_of_kink
Title: Words in the Staffroom
Author: Dee Laundry
Pairing: House/Wilson (AU)
Rating: NC-17
Words: 408
Summary/Notes: AU PWP in which Wilson is an 18-year-old li’l bastard; House is his willing-to-take-what’s-offered 28-year-old biology teacher. Prequel to Book Marking. Unrealistic, pervy, no redeeming value whatsoever. Written for hwshipper and for the stuffonmywilson Summer Sentence-Off word-use challenge.
The required girls’ gym shorts are polyester and ridiculously short. House hassles Coach Butch about being a pimp at every opportunity he gets, backed up, interestingly enough, by the sweet, demure ancient history teacher. He figures at first she’s either a feminist or a prude, but it turns out three of her classes are directly after Phys Ed classes, and she’s just sick of the boys showing up with boners.
“Distracts from their learning,” she says. “The school needs to either change the design of the girls’ shorts, or give the boys an extra five minutes in the showers.”
“Maybe it’s just you,” House replies, and laughs when she starts to protest. “I mean,” he says over her twittering, “maybe you’re the one causing them to be ‘distracted.’” He lifts an eyebrow.
After a moment spent staring into his eyes, a faint tinge of color appears on her neck. “I know your kind, Dr. House.”
“I bet you do.” He amps his leer up a notch, and she’s smiling as she walks away.
The required boys’ gym shorts are nylon and of a decent length. Nobody complains about those. Certainly not House.
He doesn’t complain about the wide leg holes that tug up and aside so easily. He doesn’t complain about the bright non-staining fabric that doesn’t show accidental lube streaks, or the smoothness of that fabric when it glides along his cock as he’s poking teasingly at Jimmy Wilson’s anus, wanting that grunt of an impatient plead before taking Jimmy, in a quick fuck in the storage closet at the back of his classroom.
Jimmy has the cleanest-smelling sweat House has ever known. He’s long and lean in House’s arms, supple, with the insouciant potency of youth.
Jimmy lets out a little moan, and House uses it as an excuse to wrap his arms tighter around the boy, across his tight belly, under his left arm and up his slim chest to clamp a hand over that bow mouth. That starts Jimmy grunting and tightening, obviously about to blow just from House’s cock up his ass and the pressure of the elastic of those required gym shorts against the head of his dick. House does it first, though, shoots a load up that sweet ass and drops his hand down to pull the orgasm from the boy, to feel him shudder and squirm.
No, House doesn’t have a single pejorative word for the boys’ required gym shorts.
Title: Words in the Staffroom
Author: Dee Laundry
Pairing: House/Wilson (AU)
Rating: NC-17
Words: 408
Summary/Notes: AU PWP in which Wilson is an 18-year-old li’l bastard; House is his willing-to-take-what’s-offered 28-year-old biology teacher. Prequel to Book Marking. Unrealistic, pervy, no redeeming value whatsoever. Written for hwshipper and for the stuffonmywilson Summer Sentence-Off word-use challenge.
The required girls’ gym shorts are polyester and ridiculously short. House hassles Coach Butch about being a pimp at every opportunity he gets, backed up, interestingly enough, by the sweet, demure ancient history teacher. He figures at first she’s either a feminist or a prude, but it turns out three of her classes are directly after Phys Ed classes, and she’s just sick of the boys showing up with boners.
“Distracts from their learning,” she says. “The school needs to either change the design of the girls’ shorts, or give the boys an extra five minutes in the showers.”
“Maybe it’s just you,” House replies, and laughs when she starts to protest. “I mean,” he says over her twittering, “maybe you’re the one causing them to be ‘distracted.’” He lifts an eyebrow.
After a moment spent staring into his eyes, a faint tinge of color appears on her neck. “I know your kind, Dr. House.”
“I bet you do.” He amps his leer up a notch, and she’s smiling as she walks away.
The required boys’ gym shorts are nylon and of a decent length. Nobody complains about those. Certainly not House.
He doesn’t complain about the wide leg holes that tug up and aside so easily. He doesn’t complain about the bright non-staining fabric that doesn’t show accidental lube streaks, or the smoothness of that fabric when it glides along his cock as he’s poking teasingly at Jimmy Wilson’s anus, wanting that grunt of an impatient plead before taking Jimmy, in a quick fuck in the storage closet at the back of his classroom.
Jimmy has the cleanest-smelling sweat House has ever known. He’s long and lean in House’s arms, supple, with the insouciant potency of youth.
Jimmy lets out a little moan, and House uses it as an excuse to wrap his arms tighter around the boy, across his tight belly, under his left arm and up his slim chest to clamp a hand over that bow mouth. That starts Jimmy grunting and tightening, obviously about to blow just from House’s cock up his ass and the pressure of the elastic of those required gym shorts against the head of his dick. House does it first, though, shoots a load up that sweet ass and drops his hand down to pull the orgasm from the boy, to feel him shudder and squirm.
No, House doesn’t have a single pejorative word for the boys’ required gym shorts.