House MD Fanfiction

Some Like It Hot

Hilson, smut, shortish
By: shutterbug_12

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.”