House MD Fanfiction

Wilson's Revenge

Hilson, smut, 2905 words
By: Lorib12

It was remarkably freeing to go to the fight. Sure, he wanted to go with Wilson but that wasn't possible so when Foreman said he'd conned the tickets out of Wilson but stated in no uncertain terms that he wouldn't leave House in Princeton unattended; he decided, what the hell. Why not go; why not be away from the Hospital and his apartment for the first time since the morning of being released from prison? He earned it. Wilson would understand…or not.

House entered his humble abode expecting to find some left over pizza and a beer or two that he'd consume before calling it a night. Leaving the confrontation that was certain to be had with his jilted best friend, occasional lover for the following day. What he didn't expect was to find said best friend waiting for him on his leather sofa staring blankly at some infomercial selling little round plastic circles that claim to help someone move even the heaviest of furniture. Either Wilson was thinking of rearranging his condo or he was too pissed off to even expend the smallest amount of energy toward something else…like changing the channel.

Thinking it best to approach the younger man with a peace offering; House made the kitchen his first stop in order to pilfer two beers before returning to the couch for the inevitable blow up followed by the even moreinevitable lecture as to how House hasn't changed, and how he's a bad friend, and 'why oh why do I put up with you, you selfish jackass'. Of course he had told Wilson he hadn't changed and for the most part, the rest was true, but still no less annoying in dealing with a supremely pissed off, self righteous Wilson.

"Hey." House handed Wilson the beer after claiming his allotted space on the sofa next to his friend.

"Hey." Wilson accepted the offering with no more acknowledgement than that single syllable.

Few tense moments passed before House could stand the silence no more. Wilson seemed to be stewing, which was never a good thing.

"Look Wilson, you know I'm an opportunistic bastard. I wanted to go with you; for fucks sake I almost got arrested trying to get that damn monitor off! I had nothing to do with Foreman screwing you out of the tickets…."

"And when you found out, you knew he held the power that would allow you to attend the match." Wilson finished House's point for him in a calm and amicable tone.

"Exactly" House stated evenly, though suspicious of Wilson's easy acceptance of the matter. After all, he could've stayed behind with Wilson and watched the fight on pay per view. Hell, he probably should've, so why did Wilson seem to be okay with this?

While House was silently deliberating his friend's lack of spite, Wilson set his beer down and closed the short distance between the two of them to brush a soft, teasing kiss that held promise of more to the lips of a surprised House before getting up to saunter down the corridor toward the bedroom.

"Care to join me?" With a quick wink, Wilson disappeared from sight.

If he wasn't caught off guard by the delicious touch of the younger man's lips or the exquisite sight of Wilson's ass as he walked away, House may've actually had reason to be suspicious of the motives behind said exquisite ass's owner. 'Damn Little Little Greg for having a mind of his own!'

House hurried over the threshold with his prize in mind when strong arms encircled his waist from behind exacting a bruising, yet sensual grip. Wilson wasted no time taking the dominant role and making his intentions known: voice dripping with sexual desire; heart pounding with anticipation of things to come.

"Did you have fun at the fight with Foreman, House? Did you enjoy using my tickets to have an evening out while I stayed here…in your apartment?" Wilson's lips and teeth nipped an unforgiving path from the bottom of House's ear around to the nape of his neck, pulling small moans from the older man's throat. No words formed on House's lips to answer the question presented to him; feeling that one wasn't expected.