Prompt 132: FIC - Some Like It Hot
TITLE: Some Like It Hot
AUTHOR: shutterbug_12
PAIRING: House/Wilson
RATING: NC-17
SUMMARY: For get_house_laid. Prompt 132: the air conditioning goes out at House's apartment on the hottest night the year, causing the boys to get sweaty and sticky. Clothes are shed and horniness ensues. There is also a mention of phallic vegetables, because there simply can't be enough phalli in one fic.
DISCLAIMER: I can claim no ownership to the characters.
NOTES: Thank you to Kerry for the beta on this one. I welcome concrit and feedback!
The muted television washed the room in flickering blue light, a harsh electric greeting as Wilson stepped groggily over the threshold of House’s apartment. Choking down gulps of heavy air, Wilson’s fingers clumsily loosened his tie and draped it across the back of the couch. Leaning a hand on the sticky leather, his eyes surveyed the coffee table. Several empty tumblers dotted the surface, condensation pooling around the bases and creating clear rings on the glass. House’s sneakers were stuffed under the table, thrown haphazardly atop each other.
“House?” Wilson’s voice sliced through the quiet apartment. He peeled his hand from the leather, his eyes gravitating to the hypnotic glimmers of the television screen. A man in his early forties, wearing a silk Hawaiian shirt and tacky sunglasses, pointed to map of the Northeast. An animated sun bobbed over the region, bouncing on top of large purple lettering that recalled the afternoon’s record high temperature. Wilson absentmindedly swiped at the swelling beads of sweat on his forehead. Not moving from his place behind the couch, he called again for House.
“What?” A voice floated lazily from the kitchen.
Wilson approached the open arch of the kitchen. A sliver of yellow light spilled onto the floor, illuminating a pair of legs that stretched across the tiles. The rest of House was shielded behind the gaping refrigerator door.
Smirking, Wilson folded his arms and peered over the door, a welcome rush of cool air bathing the warm skin on his face. House, clad in a dark pair of boxer-briefs, sat propped against the open fridge. House’s body glistened with a thin sheen of sweat. Transparent ribbons trailed down the side of House’s face, coating the tips of House’s hair near the temples. Wilson wet his lips.
“What happened to the air conditioning?” Wilson laid his arms across the top of the door.
House lifted his face to deliver a glare. “It broke.”
Wilson shimmied into the kitchen, sliding past the refrigerator door. “Is somebody going to fix it?”
House shuffled along the floor, reaching behind him to extract a small jar of pickles. His eyes closed as he raised the jar to his forehead. “Some guy said he’ll be here in the morning.”
“Wouldn’t a piece of fruit or-” Wilson paused, stooping over House to reach into the fridge. “-a cucumber be a little easier on you?” He waved the vegetable in front of House’s face.
A grin tugged at House’s lips. “Could you pick a more phallic vegetable? I think there might be some carrots in the bottom drawer.”
Wilson tossed the cucumber onto its shelf. “Says the man holding a whole jar of phallic vegetables.”
House wriggled his eyebrows, sliding the jar across his forehead. He snaked his tongue across the lid.
Shaking his head, Wilson planted his feet on either side of House’s outstretched legs and stood to open the freezer. “There’s a pint of ice cream in here. That would be better…than…” Wilson’s voice trailed off when House’s hands pressed against the back of his thighs, forcing him to shuffle forward. Wilson closed his eyes against the dry, cold draft of the open freezer and felt his breath hitch when a hot stream of air infiltrated the cotton and polyester of his pants.
He dropped his head to see House sandwiched between the refrigerator and the pillars of his legs. House flashed him a devilish grin before firmly pressing an open mouth to the outline of Wilson’s cock. Wilson’s eyes fluttered closed. He felt his cock twitch, hardening fully against the heat of House’s mouth. “House,” he uttered raggedly. “That wasn’t exactly the cucumber I had in mind.”
Wilson felt a gentle, reverberating chuckle against his shaft before the pressure from House’s mouth lifted. Wilson fixed his eyes on House, following the path of House’s hands as they traveled from his thighs to the sharp bones of his hips. Long fingers unfastened his belt, and pausing to circle the straining tip of Wilson’s cock, loosened the waistband of his pants. Wilson worked the buttons of his shirt and shed the garment before House finished with his zipper. A hiss escaped through Wilson’s gritted teeth as his pants fell and the chilled air of the fridge swept over the slick skin of his rigid erection.
The sudden shock of the cold was dispelled, without warning, by the hot envelope of House’s mouth. Wilson felt his knees jerk as House’s lips sealed around the head. He raised his arms to brace himself, hands instantly chilled by the surface of the freezer.
He gently rocked his hips forward, driving himself further into House’s warm, wet mouth. Wilson groaned quietly as House’s tongue dragged along the underside of his shaft. Hands gripped his hips to control his movements and Wilson found it difficult to focus on any one sensation. His attention swam from one feeling to another. The pressure of House’s fingertips, digging into his flesh. A slippery set of lips tightening around the base of his cock. The hot, velvet softness of the inside of House’s cheek against his swollen tip. Wilson threw back his head, offering erratic sighs to the ceiling between quick, audible breaths.
Despite the cool draft of the freezer, Wilson found himself encompassed by heat. Small beads of sweat joined together to trace a bumpy path down his spine, where jolting sparks of pleasure fired rapidly under his skin. Pressure built within the pit of his stomach, rising to fill his chest as House’s mouth devoured his cock with increased urgency. Wilson bent his head low between his shoulders and stared, utterly mesmerized, as his cock disappeared past House’s lips. He was vaguely aware of a string of incoherent moans tumbling from his lips. Sharp tingles rose from his legs. The edges of his vision darkened and he fought to keep his gaze centered on House and that glorious mouth. The muscles in his stomach tensed and he shuddered as the prickling tingles exploded within him. His knees slightly shaking, Wilson poured himself into House’s mouth with a loud groan. After a moment, he felt a rush of cool air as House withdrew his mouth, House’s hands dropping from Wilson’s hips to the tiles.
Wilson toppled to the floor beside House, his breath coming in gasps. The heat of his flushed face overtook the cool air from the refrigerator. He raised his hands, still frigid from the freezer, and pressed them to his cheeks. Hearing a soft thud beside him, he pivoted his head. House was leaning his head against a shelf of the fridge, eyes closed and face relaxed. Wilson shifted onto his side, supporting himself with one hand on the floor. He reached out with the other to curl his fingers around the back of House’s neck.
House’s eyes shot open. “Whoa! That’s cold!” he exclaimed, attempting to slide away from him and into the thick, hazy air of the living room, scuttling like a crab.
Wilson maintained his hold on the back of House’s neck and moved closer to capture House’s open mouth in a crushing kiss. House’s strained whimper filled Wilson’s mouth as he grazed House’s bottom lip with his teeth. Wilson’s tongue hungrily probed House’s mouth, his fingers rising up House’s neck and twisting within short locks of hair. He gently tugged at the strands, urging House fully onto the floor, their wet lips and tongues still touching. Wilson’s hand cushioned House’s head while his other trailed down House’s side, the skin there slippery with sweat and radiating heat. The lingering cold on Wilson’s fingertips elicited an involuntary flinch. Their tongues still sliding against one another’s, Wilson tugged at House’s boxer-briefs.
House jerked out of the kiss to draw a sharp, quick breath, wiggling free of the last of his clothing. Wilson touched House’s hip, warming his fingers with the heat of House’s skin, and watched the fast rising and falling of House’s chest. Removing his fingers, he lowered his mouth to House’s hips, warming the skin with his tongue. He licked along the ridge of House’s hipbone, avoiding House’s glistening erection. A weak sound of protest floated into Wilson’s ears that made his heart flutter. Tasting the salt on House’s skin, Wilson hummed softly in his throat. He lifted his head to blow air across the wet trails that remained from his tongue and grinned as House shivered.
He spread House’s legs and settled between them, dipping his head to drag his tongue once along House’s length. He replaced his tongue with stroking fingers, allowing them to roam over House’s hips, then his balls. After failing to resist a last lick of House’s throbbing cock, Wilson wrapped his hand around the erection. He squeezed gently, forcing a large, clear drop of fluid out of the tip. Wilson spread the fluid with the pad of his thumb, feeling House’s body give a small jerk. He felt his own breathing quicken as House released a series of soft, pleading gasps.
He began to pump House, slowly at first, but progressing to fast, hard strokes. Wilson ran his free hand along the inside of House’s left thigh. His gaze flickered to House’s face. House’s eyes were shut tightly and his mouth hung open, emitting shallow breaths. Wilson paused momentarily to capture House’s mouth in a short but possessive, hard kiss before returning his attention to House’s cock, stroking harder. He raised his index finger to his mouth, wetting it with saliva. As House gently started to buck his hips, Wilson pushed his hand underneath House and slowly eased his slippery finger into House’s tight opening. House cried out, squirming. Wilson stilled his finger until House relaxed. He continued to work House’s cock as he drove his finger further into House, feeling nothing but pulsating heat.
Wilson realized that House’s heat-his mouth, his skin, the smooth, tight muscles around Wilson’s finger-was more satisfying than any cool blast of air on a scorching summer evening. Grinning, he curled his finger inside House, stroking just there until House arched against the floor, pushed into his hand, and spilled hot, sticky liquid over his fingers.
Leaving House panting on the floor, Wilson stood to grab the roll of paper towels on the kitchen counter. He offered one to House, who took it and hastily wiped the sticky fluid from his belly. Wilson gathered his clothes, pulled on his boxers, and nodded to the refrigerator door.
“Want a beer?”
“Sure.” House slid toward the fridge, resuming his earlier post, and accepted a bottle from Wilson.
Wilson scooted next to House, opening a bottle for himself. After a brief silence, Wilson tilted his head toward House’s and said, “It hit over a hundred degrees today.”
House swished beer in his mouth and made a noise of indifference in his throat.
Wilson continued. “Hottest day of the year, I think.”
House snorted and swallowed a mouthful of beer. “You’re not kidding.”
x-posted: housefic, house_wilson, and Journal.
AUTHOR: shutterbug_12
PAIRING: House/Wilson
RATING: NC-17
SUMMARY: For get_house_laid. Prompt 132: the air conditioning goes out at House's apartment on the hottest night the year, causing the boys to get sweaty and sticky. Clothes are shed and horniness ensues. There is also a mention of phallic vegetables, because there simply can't be enough phalli in one fic.
DISCLAIMER: I can claim no ownership to the characters.
NOTES: Thank you to Kerry for the beta on this one. I welcome concrit and feedback!
The muted television washed the room in flickering blue light, a harsh electric greeting as Wilson stepped groggily over the threshold of House’s apartment. Choking down gulps of heavy air, Wilson’s fingers clumsily loosened his tie and draped it across the back of the couch. Leaning a hand on the sticky leather, his eyes surveyed the coffee table. Several empty tumblers dotted the surface, condensation pooling around the bases and creating clear rings on the glass. House’s sneakers were stuffed under the table, thrown haphazardly atop each other.
“House?” Wilson’s voice sliced through the quiet apartment. He peeled his hand from the leather, his eyes gravitating to the hypnotic glimmers of the television screen. A man in his early forties, wearing a silk Hawaiian shirt and tacky sunglasses, pointed to map of the Northeast. An animated sun bobbed over the region, bouncing on top of large purple lettering that recalled the afternoon’s record high temperature. Wilson absentmindedly swiped at the swelling beads of sweat on his forehead. Not moving from his place behind the couch, he called again for House.
“What?” A voice floated lazily from the kitchen.
Wilson approached the open arch of the kitchen. A sliver of yellow light spilled onto the floor, illuminating a pair of legs that stretched across the tiles. The rest of House was shielded behind the gaping refrigerator door.
Smirking, Wilson folded his arms and peered over the door, a welcome rush of cool air bathing the warm skin on his face. House, clad in a dark pair of boxer-briefs, sat propped against the open fridge. House’s body glistened with a thin sheen of sweat. Transparent ribbons trailed down the side of House’s face, coating the tips of House’s hair near the temples. Wilson wet his lips.
“What happened to the air conditioning?” Wilson laid his arms across the top of the door.
House lifted his face to deliver a glare. “It broke.”
Wilson shimmied into the kitchen, sliding past the refrigerator door. “Is somebody going to fix it?”
House shuffled along the floor, reaching behind him to extract a small jar of pickles. His eyes closed as he raised the jar to his forehead. “Some guy said he’ll be here in the morning.”
“Wouldn’t a piece of fruit or-” Wilson paused, stooping over House to reach into the fridge. “-a cucumber be a little easier on you?” He waved the vegetable in front of House’s face.
A grin tugged at House’s lips. “Could you pick a more phallic vegetable? I think there might be some carrots in the bottom drawer.”
Wilson tossed the cucumber onto its shelf. “Says the man holding a whole jar of phallic vegetables.”
House wriggled his eyebrows, sliding the jar across his forehead. He snaked his tongue across the lid.
Shaking his head, Wilson planted his feet on either side of House’s outstretched legs and stood to open the freezer. “There’s a pint of ice cream in here. That would be better…than…” Wilson’s voice trailed off when House’s hands pressed against the back of his thighs, forcing him to shuffle forward. Wilson closed his eyes against the dry, cold draft of the open freezer and felt his breath hitch when a hot stream of air infiltrated the cotton and polyester of his pants.
He dropped his head to see House sandwiched between the refrigerator and the pillars of his legs. House flashed him a devilish grin before firmly pressing an open mouth to the outline of Wilson’s cock. Wilson’s eyes fluttered closed. He felt his cock twitch, hardening fully against the heat of House’s mouth. “House,” he uttered raggedly. “That wasn’t exactly the cucumber I had in mind.”
Wilson felt a gentle, reverberating chuckle against his shaft before the pressure from House’s mouth lifted. Wilson fixed his eyes on House, following the path of House’s hands as they traveled from his thighs to the sharp bones of his hips. Long fingers unfastened his belt, and pausing to circle the straining tip of Wilson’s cock, loosened the waistband of his pants. Wilson worked the buttons of his shirt and shed the garment before House finished with his zipper. A hiss escaped through Wilson’s gritted teeth as his pants fell and the chilled air of the fridge swept over the slick skin of his rigid erection.
The sudden shock of the cold was dispelled, without warning, by the hot envelope of House’s mouth. Wilson felt his knees jerk as House’s lips sealed around the head. He raised his arms to brace himself, hands instantly chilled by the surface of the freezer.
He gently rocked his hips forward, driving himself further into House’s warm, wet mouth. Wilson groaned quietly as House’s tongue dragged along the underside of his shaft. Hands gripped his hips to control his movements and Wilson found it difficult to focus on any one sensation. His attention swam from one feeling to another. The pressure of House’s fingertips, digging into his flesh. A slippery set of lips tightening around the base of his cock. The hot, velvet softness of the inside of House’s cheek against his swollen tip. Wilson threw back his head, offering erratic sighs to the ceiling between quick, audible breaths.
Despite the cool draft of the freezer, Wilson found himself encompassed by heat. Small beads of sweat joined together to trace a bumpy path down his spine, where jolting sparks of pleasure fired rapidly under his skin. Pressure built within the pit of his stomach, rising to fill his chest as House’s mouth devoured his cock with increased urgency. Wilson bent his head low between his shoulders and stared, utterly mesmerized, as his cock disappeared past House’s lips. He was vaguely aware of a string of incoherent moans tumbling from his lips. Sharp tingles rose from his legs. The edges of his vision darkened and he fought to keep his gaze centered on House and that glorious mouth. The muscles in his stomach tensed and he shuddered as the prickling tingles exploded within him. His knees slightly shaking, Wilson poured himself into House’s mouth with a loud groan. After a moment, he felt a rush of cool air as House withdrew his mouth, House’s hands dropping from Wilson’s hips to the tiles.
Wilson toppled to the floor beside House, his breath coming in gasps. The heat of his flushed face overtook the cool air from the refrigerator. He raised his hands, still frigid from the freezer, and pressed them to his cheeks. Hearing a soft thud beside him, he pivoted his head. House was leaning his head against a shelf of the fridge, eyes closed and face relaxed. Wilson shifted onto his side, supporting himself with one hand on the floor. He reached out with the other to curl his fingers around the back of House’s neck.
House’s eyes shot open. “Whoa! That’s cold!” he exclaimed, attempting to slide away from him and into the thick, hazy air of the living room, scuttling like a crab.
Wilson maintained his hold on the back of House’s neck and moved closer to capture House’s open mouth in a crushing kiss. House’s strained whimper filled Wilson’s mouth as he grazed House’s bottom lip with his teeth. Wilson’s tongue hungrily probed House’s mouth, his fingers rising up House’s neck and twisting within short locks of hair. He gently tugged at the strands, urging House fully onto the floor, their wet lips and tongues still touching. Wilson’s hand cushioned House’s head while his other trailed down House’s side, the skin there slippery with sweat and radiating heat. The lingering cold on Wilson’s fingertips elicited an involuntary flinch. Their tongues still sliding against one another’s, Wilson tugged at House’s boxer-briefs.
House jerked out of the kiss to draw a sharp, quick breath, wiggling free of the last of his clothing. Wilson touched House’s hip, warming his fingers with the heat of House’s skin, and watched the fast rising and falling of House’s chest. Removing his fingers, he lowered his mouth to House’s hips, warming the skin with his tongue. He licked along the ridge of House’s hipbone, avoiding House’s glistening erection. A weak sound of protest floated into Wilson’s ears that made his heart flutter. Tasting the salt on House’s skin, Wilson hummed softly in his throat. He lifted his head to blow air across the wet trails that remained from his tongue and grinned as House shivered.
He spread House’s legs and settled between them, dipping his head to drag his tongue once along House’s length. He replaced his tongue with stroking fingers, allowing them to roam over House’s hips, then his balls. After failing to resist a last lick of House’s throbbing cock, Wilson wrapped his hand around the erection. He squeezed gently, forcing a large, clear drop of fluid out of the tip. Wilson spread the fluid with the pad of his thumb, feeling House’s body give a small jerk. He felt his own breathing quicken as House released a series of soft, pleading gasps.
He began to pump House, slowly at first, but progressing to fast, hard strokes. Wilson ran his free hand along the inside of House’s left thigh. His gaze flickered to House’s face. House’s eyes were shut tightly and his mouth hung open, emitting shallow breaths. Wilson paused momentarily to capture House’s mouth in a short but possessive, hard kiss before returning his attention to House’s cock, stroking harder. He raised his index finger to his mouth, wetting it with saliva. As House gently started to buck his hips, Wilson pushed his hand underneath House and slowly eased his slippery finger into House’s tight opening. House cried out, squirming. Wilson stilled his finger until House relaxed. He continued to work House’s cock as he drove his finger further into House, feeling nothing but pulsating heat.
Wilson realized that House’s heat-his mouth, his skin, the smooth, tight muscles around Wilson’s finger-was more satisfying than any cool blast of air on a scorching summer evening. Grinning, he curled his finger inside House, stroking just there until House arched against the floor, pushed into his hand, and spilled hot, sticky liquid over his fingers.
Leaving House panting on the floor, Wilson stood to grab the roll of paper towels on the kitchen counter. He offered one to House, who took it and hastily wiped the sticky fluid from his belly. Wilson gathered his clothes, pulled on his boxers, and nodded to the refrigerator door.
“Want a beer?”
“Sure.” House slid toward the fridge, resuming his earlier post, and accepted a bottle from Wilson.
Wilson scooted next to House, opening a bottle for himself. After a brief silence, Wilson tilted his head toward House’s and said, “It hit over a hundred degrees today.”
House swished beer in his mouth and made a noise of indifference in his throat.
Wilson continued. “Hottest day of the year, I think.”
House snorted and swallowed a mouthful of beer. “You’re not kidding.”
x-posted: housefic, house_wilson, and Journal.