House MD Fanfiction

The Real Deal

Hilson, smut, 4,511 words
By: Kickthecane

It'd seemed like a good idea at the time. Wilson'd moved into his new place a couple of weeks ago and knowing Dr Anal Retentive as well as he did, House figured all boxes were unpacked, pictures hung and furniture placed just so. In other words, chances were good he could visit without fear of being of being told to get off his lazy ass and unpack the three sets of dishes Wilson had somehow managed to acquire even as he lost the kitchens they'd all been bought for. Who says divorce couldn't have it's funny side.

So he figured--since the aforementioned fired clay had undoubtedly found a new home in the shiny, almost looks like wood, pressed board and laminate kitchen cabinetry of Wilson's overpriced and under-insulated condo--he'd grace his friend with his presence and a bag full of take-out. Add the twelve pack of Rolling Rock, the 3D version of Wildcat Women and two pairs of those snazzy cardboard viewing glasses and he knew he'd be welcomed with open arms.

Once in a while even House can make a mistake.

His first clue came when he banged on the door and no one answered though he was pretty sure he could hear movement behind the less than sound-proofed walls. The second was when he knocked again and Wilson answered with a muffled, "House, go the fuck away. I'm busy." 

Now for a normal mortal this would have been a pretty big hint, but House being House just took if for an invitation to use the key he'd appropriated when Wilson left the spare on his desk after the closing. He juggled bag and cane under one arm and stuck the shiny new piece of metal into the lock and leaned in. The door being as new as the key and recently oiled worked way better than House expected and a second later he found himself halfway into the living room, hopping desperately on his good leg like some demented one-legged bunny; cane, bag and DVD complete with snazzy viewing glasses left behind in a trail of squashed cheese steaks with peppers and extra sauce. Fortunately he'd left the beer in the hall for later retrieval.

That's when House finally realized Wilson was serious about wanting to be alone. 

Well, maybe not alone. Wilson had company. And okay, maybe company wasn't exactly the right word either, but Wilson sure was entertaining. At least House assumed the other guy was entertained since he seemed to have no problem standing there with his dick hanging out while Wilson knelt in front of him with one hand on said appendage and his mouth only a silly millimeter away from following its lead. 

"Oops," House smiled brightly and ignored Wilson's groan, "my bad."

"House," Wilson disentangled himself with as much dignity as he could, which was precious little at that point, and slumped down into an embarrassed heap on the floor, "don't you ever listen to anything I say?"

House considered the question for a second or two, "Um, no." He turned and leaned down and shoveled the sad remains of his favorite meal off the recently immaculate beige carpeting and back into the sack. "Damn, I was really in the mood for a hoagie." He shrugged. "Got any eggs?"

"House…" 

"That's okay," House straightened up holding the dripping bag, "I'll look for myself. You guys hungry?" 

"I could eat." Dick Guy grinned easily and just like that House was pretty sure he wasn't going to become his second best friend. 

"No you couldn't." Wilson hissed and stood up looking first at House in a silent plea and when that didn't work, back at Dick Guy, "And for god's sake zip up your pants!"

Dick Guy shrugged good naturedly and obediently stuffed and zipped and never lost his amused smile. Yeah, House decided, he really didn't like him at all.