Dee Laundry (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
deelaundry) wrote2006-08-12 11:12 pm
deelaundry) wrote2006-08-12 11:12 pm
Entry tags:
Wilson the Great (NC-17)
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house_wilson and the_smut_couch
Title: Wilson the Great
Author: Dee Laundry
Pairing: House/Wilson (other pairings mentioned)
Rating: NC-17 (PWP)
Words: 1997
Summary: Things had a way of working out for Jimmy Wilson.
Disclaimer: These characters are not mine.
Notes: This is set in Season 1 or slightly before, before the return of Stacy. Totally different dynamic from my earlier fics, if you've read those.
Things had a way of working out for Jimmy Wilson.
Take tonight. He’d had to work late, but by the time he’d left, he’d been able to reassure two patients they were in complete remission.
He’d missed a happy hour event his wife had made him commit to over a month ago, but she was so thrilled her sister Amy had come to town early that she’d let him slide with barely a warning.
He was late getting to House’s, but that just ended up meaning their fastest segue from front door to bedroom ever.
Lips and tongues and hands everywhere, pushing, pulling, grabbing. Wilson’s shoes were off in his first steps through the door. Their shirts were gone next. Wilson’s ended up on the door knob of the front door, House’s only inches away on the floor.
House’s mouth was on Wilson’s nipple as he slowly pulled Wilson’s belt from the belt loops, and damn if that slide hadn’t been the sexiest thing. Wilson’s pants and underwear were gone in the next moment, thrown over the couch to land who knows where.
Both of Wilson’s hands were in House’s jeans as House struggled with the zipper. “I could use some help here,” he grumbled, but Wilson was too busy with House’s ass and cock.
“I’ve already got my hands full.”
“Shut up,” House replied, and finally the zipper gave. They both started shoving House’s jeans and boxers down, eager to be unencumbered. House gave a particularly vicious shove, and Wilson’s arm twisted. He was being dragged toward the floor, and while it gave him a great vantage point for his next move, it was disconcerting.
Then he realized: his watch was caught on some part of House’s jeans. He laughed and tried hard not to knock House over as he fell.
“Are you laughing at me? And where are you going?” House was suspicious in his naked need and desire.
“Of course not,” Wilson scoffed. “My watch is stuck.” It was no use; he couldn’t find the connection, so he just took the damn watch off and left it there.
“Look out,” House warned, as he stepped out of his jeans and boxers. His cane barely missed Wilson’s hand on the floor.
“Watch where you’re swinging that stick.” He regarded House’s nakedness from his vantage point on the floor. “Never mind, I’ve got another stick I’m interested in.”
House’s cock was always a thing of wonder to Wilson. He worshipped it. What a stupid porno cliché thing to say, but truly, if he’d had clearer pictures, he would have built a shrine to it in his desk drawer.
He loved the length of it, the breadth. He loved the smooth skin, the ridges of the veins, the three stray hairs House insisted were not there. He loved the smell of it, and the smell of House’s balls, too.
But his absolute favorite part was the head. The color of it was alluring. The ridge was exciting, if only for the indecent sounds House would make when Wilson licked it. The slit was surprisingly deep and of course produced the most fabulous pre-come and come Wilson had ever tasted.
The best thing about the head was the way it swelled so hotly in Wilson’s mouth. It was incredibly responsive to Wilson’s ministrations, and he appreciated the give and take.
Now it was telling him something quite disturbing, that House was getting close to his orgasm. This would not do, and Wilson pulled off House’s cock with a pop and a quick lick.
House groaned and his hand tightened in Wilson’s hair. “You’re a prick tease,” he breathed.
“You’re going to fuck me or you’re not going to come,” Wilson replied, making his way up House’s body with his tongue and lips. He planted the shortest of kisses on House’s lips before freeing his hair from House’s grip and walking away quickly.
“Bed, now.”
This was the only time Wilson could get away with ordering House around, and he used it to full advantage.
He had put his and House’s cell phones on the nightstand, thrown House’s comforter to the floor, and was pushing back the sheets when House came in.
“Face up or down?” Wilson asked. “Your choice tonight.”
“Aren’t you magnanimous?” House sneered, but his steps to the bed were as quick as he could make them.
“Face up. Not that your ass isn’t beautiful, but I love watching the insane faces you make.”
Wilson was crawling around the bed, arranging pillows, when the first cold, wet finger entered his ass.
“You could wait,” he yelped, twisting around to try to look at House.
“No, I really couldn’t,” House replied, pushing the second finger in.
The two fingers scissored and played in Wilson’s ass so beautifully, and he was trembling as he moved into position.
Then the fingers were gone, only to be quickly replaced with that gorgeous head. Wilson drew in a shaky breath as House pushed in, in his typical pattern: short stroke, short stroke, long.
Wilson moaned, groaned, grunted, something; he couldn’t even analyze the sounds he was making, he was so far gone. House was exhaling a long breath through his nose, and, funny, that sounded a lot like Wilson’s cell phone ring.
Fuck. It was Wilson‘s cell.
“Don’t pick that fucker up,” House growled.
“I’m waiting for another set of test results. This might be it.” He grabbed the phone from the nightstand. “It’s Julie.” It was getting eerie, how she always seemed to call three thrusts in.
“Don’t answer it, or I will throw that phone out the fucking window.”
“I won’t. I’ll tell her I turned the phone off by mistake.” He tossed the cell back toward the nightstand. It bounced once and dropped to the floor.
“Or maybe I’ll throw you out the fucking window.” House twisted savagely, and Wilson involuntarily gasped at the resulting pain.
Then House was gone, out of Wilson and off the bed. Wilson felt desperately empty.
“You’re cheating on me, you bastard.”
“What?” Wilson scrambled up to a half-seated position.
“You’re sleeping with that new nurse in pediatrics, and you’re sleeping with your wife again.” House had limped gingerly two steps away and was leaning on his bureau.
“I’m not doing anything with any nurse. And what would make you think Julie and I are having sex?” He twisted his hands in the sheets.
“Her call just now. You always pick up the phone when you’re feeling guilty for fucking me. You always ignore the phone when you’re feeling guilty for fucking her.”
House was across the room, and his face was stern, but his erection was still standing proud. If Wilson thought fast, he could salvage this situation.
“It’s just - You’re right. You’re right. I keep thinking we’re getting to the end of things, and then…” House hadn’t left the room; that was a good sign.
Wilson sighed. “You know, under Jewish law, the husband has to accede to all sexual requests from his wife.”
“Yeah, you’re a strict follower of Jewish law. And how many slices of bacon were on that sandwich you had at lunch?”
Wilson hung his head. “I know, I’m sorry. I just get trapped sometimes.”
He looked up at House through his eyelashes. His initial pitch had had the desired effect; time to close this deal.
“You know, I have to go to Julie’s family reunion tomorrow. They always have a long sit-down lunch. It’d be pretty embarrassing if I had difficulty sitting all through it. Probably cause a lot of questions. And of course you’d be on my mind the whole day, so I’d also have to hide my hard-on.”
“You’re on notice,” House growled, but he was already back by the bed.
Wilson slipped back to his previous position and successfully hid his grin.
Angry sex was powerful sex, and Wilson got exactly the pounding he wanted. During and after, House refused to touch Wilson’s erection, and wouldn’t let Wilson touch himself, either. Wilson made a show of exasperation but was secretly pleased. The blood rush and aching for release had added an extra element that was so sweet he’d tasted it on his tongue. An extraordinarily pleasurable sensation to file away for another day.
After a quick shower, he picked up his clothes silently as House glared at him, dry swallowing an extra Vicodin, probably in an attempt to piss him off.
He couldn’t decide if House wanted the lecture or not, so he just opened his mouth and closed it again.
House always ate it up when Wilson played the chagrined lover, and this time was no exception. As Wilson stood by the door, ready to leave, head lowered, House crossed to him and pressed against him.
He grabbed Wilson’s lower lip with his teeth, bit gently, then kissed Wilson thoroughly. Wilson ground his erection against House’s naked body, but he counted on House not to let it go any farther.
House broke the kiss and pushed Wilson back a step. “You are still on notice. If you know what’s good for you, you’ll leave that there and won’t jack off tonight.”
“I promise. I won’t jack off tonight.” He pushed all the sincerity he could into his expression, because he did happen to be telling the truth. “Tomorrow morning OK?”
“Get the hell out of here,” House replied, but there was no heat behind it. Two, maybe three days of varying degrees of torture, and then Wilson would be forgiven. They’d be back to normal.
Wilson kept up an air of contriteness all the way back to his car. House wasn’t generally the type for spying out the window, but sometimes that son of a bitch seemed to have eyes in the back of his head.
When he got in his car, he let out the breath he’d been holding. He drove two blocks, turned right, and pulled over into the first spot he saw. No sense tempting fate by checking his messages in front of House’s place.
He smiled at Julie’s message. She and her sister had gone out for Mexican, which meant they’d had margaritas. And Amy was meeting a friend for an early breakfast the next day, which meant Julie would have already dropped her off at her hotel and would be home when he got there.
He hung up the phone and threw it on the passenger seat as he leaned down toward the glove compartment. A quick search and there it was: his favorite cock ring.
He felt instantly at ease as he slipped it on. Two strokes and he was hard again. This was going to be great.
As he started the car once again, he began rehearsing what he’d say to Julie. “House was such an ass tonight. I don’t even know why I’m friends with him; he’s definitely not worth it. I just kept wishing I was with you instead. Thought of you all the way home, how beautiful you are, how unbelievably sexy. I couldn’t wait to get home to you. See how much you turn me on…”
He was going to have to break it off with that pediatrics nurse. Rockin’ bod, very enthusiastic and inventive, but obviously not as discreet as he had thought. It was for the best anyway; they were almost at the point where attachment would start to creep in. Once they got attached, it was hard to shake them off.
That radiologist – damn, that had been messy. House hadn’t spoken to him for a month.
It was okay, he could give up the nurse. Life is good, he thought as he pulled in his driveway. He unstrapped the cock ring and threw it back in the glove compartment. Then he quickly gave his dick a couple extra strokes, imagining first House’s strong hand on him, then his wife’s sweet mouth. He smiled all the way into the house.
Life was very damn good for Jimmy Wilson.
house_wilson and the_smut_couchTitle: Wilson the Great
Author: Dee Laundry
Pairing: House/Wilson (other pairings mentioned)
Rating: NC-17 (PWP)
Words: 1997
Summary: Things had a way of working out for Jimmy Wilson.
Disclaimer: These characters are not mine.
Notes: This is set in Season 1 or slightly before, before the return of Stacy. Totally different dynamic from my earlier fics, if you've read those.
Things had a way of working out for Jimmy Wilson.
Take tonight. He’d had to work late, but by the time he’d left, he’d been able to reassure two patients they were in complete remission.
He’d missed a happy hour event his wife had made him commit to over a month ago, but she was so thrilled her sister Amy had come to town early that she’d let him slide with barely a warning.
He was late getting to House’s, but that just ended up meaning their fastest segue from front door to bedroom ever.
Lips and tongues and hands everywhere, pushing, pulling, grabbing. Wilson’s shoes were off in his first steps through the door. Their shirts were gone next. Wilson’s ended up on the door knob of the front door, House’s only inches away on the floor.
House’s mouth was on Wilson’s nipple as he slowly pulled Wilson’s belt from the belt loops, and damn if that slide hadn’t been the sexiest thing. Wilson’s pants and underwear were gone in the next moment, thrown over the couch to land who knows where.
Both of Wilson’s hands were in House’s jeans as House struggled with the zipper. “I could use some help here,” he grumbled, but Wilson was too busy with House’s ass and cock.
“I’ve already got my hands full.”
“Shut up,” House replied, and finally the zipper gave. They both started shoving House’s jeans and boxers down, eager to be unencumbered. House gave a particularly vicious shove, and Wilson’s arm twisted. He was being dragged toward the floor, and while it gave him a great vantage point for his next move, it was disconcerting.
Then he realized: his watch was caught on some part of House’s jeans. He laughed and tried hard not to knock House over as he fell.
“Are you laughing at me? And where are you going?” House was suspicious in his naked need and desire.
“Of course not,” Wilson scoffed. “My watch is stuck.” It was no use; he couldn’t find the connection, so he just took the damn watch off and left it there.
“Look out,” House warned, as he stepped out of his jeans and boxers. His cane barely missed Wilson’s hand on the floor.
“Watch where you’re swinging that stick.” He regarded House’s nakedness from his vantage point on the floor. “Never mind, I’ve got another stick I’m interested in.”
House’s cock was always a thing of wonder to Wilson. He worshipped it. What a stupid porno cliché thing to say, but truly, if he’d had clearer pictures, he would have built a shrine to it in his desk drawer.
He loved the length of it, the breadth. He loved the smooth skin, the ridges of the veins, the three stray hairs House insisted were not there. He loved the smell of it, and the smell of House’s balls, too.
But his absolute favorite part was the head. The color of it was alluring. The ridge was exciting, if only for the indecent sounds House would make when Wilson licked it. The slit was surprisingly deep and of course produced the most fabulous pre-come and come Wilson had ever tasted.
The best thing about the head was the way it swelled so hotly in Wilson’s mouth. It was incredibly responsive to Wilson’s ministrations, and he appreciated the give and take.
Now it was telling him something quite disturbing, that House was getting close to his orgasm. This would not do, and Wilson pulled off House’s cock with a pop and a quick lick.
House groaned and his hand tightened in Wilson’s hair. “You’re a prick tease,” he breathed.
“You’re going to fuck me or you’re not going to come,” Wilson replied, making his way up House’s body with his tongue and lips. He planted the shortest of kisses on House’s lips before freeing his hair from House’s grip and walking away quickly.
“Bed, now.”
This was the only time Wilson could get away with ordering House around, and he used it to full advantage.
He had put his and House’s cell phones on the nightstand, thrown House’s comforter to the floor, and was pushing back the sheets when House came in.
“Face up or down?” Wilson asked. “Your choice tonight.”
“Aren’t you magnanimous?” House sneered, but his steps to the bed were as quick as he could make them.
“Face up. Not that your ass isn’t beautiful, but I love watching the insane faces you make.”
Wilson was crawling around the bed, arranging pillows, when the first cold, wet finger entered his ass.
“You could wait,” he yelped, twisting around to try to look at House.
“No, I really couldn’t,” House replied, pushing the second finger in.
The two fingers scissored and played in Wilson’s ass so beautifully, and he was trembling as he moved into position.
Then the fingers were gone, only to be quickly replaced with that gorgeous head. Wilson drew in a shaky breath as House pushed in, in his typical pattern: short stroke, short stroke, long.
Wilson moaned, groaned, grunted, something; he couldn’t even analyze the sounds he was making, he was so far gone. House was exhaling a long breath through his nose, and, funny, that sounded a lot like Wilson’s cell phone ring.
Fuck. It was Wilson‘s cell.
“Don’t pick that fucker up,” House growled.
“I’m waiting for another set of test results. This might be it.” He grabbed the phone from the nightstand. “It’s Julie.” It was getting eerie, how she always seemed to call three thrusts in.
“Don’t answer it, or I will throw that phone out the fucking window.”
“I won’t. I’ll tell her I turned the phone off by mistake.” He tossed the cell back toward the nightstand. It bounced once and dropped to the floor.
“Or maybe I’ll throw you out the fucking window.” House twisted savagely, and Wilson involuntarily gasped at the resulting pain.
Then House was gone, out of Wilson and off the bed. Wilson felt desperately empty.
“You’re cheating on me, you bastard.”
“What?” Wilson scrambled up to a half-seated position.
“You’re sleeping with that new nurse in pediatrics, and you’re sleeping with your wife again.” House had limped gingerly two steps away and was leaning on his bureau.
“I’m not doing anything with any nurse. And what would make you think Julie and I are having sex?” He twisted his hands in the sheets.
“Her call just now. You always pick up the phone when you’re feeling guilty for fucking me. You always ignore the phone when you’re feeling guilty for fucking her.”
House was across the room, and his face was stern, but his erection was still standing proud. If Wilson thought fast, he could salvage this situation.
“It’s just - You’re right. You’re right. I keep thinking we’re getting to the end of things, and then…” House hadn’t left the room; that was a good sign.
Wilson sighed. “You know, under Jewish law, the husband has to accede to all sexual requests from his wife.”
“Yeah, you’re a strict follower of Jewish law. And how many slices of bacon were on that sandwich you had at lunch?”
Wilson hung his head. “I know, I’m sorry. I just get trapped sometimes.”
He looked up at House through his eyelashes. His initial pitch had had the desired effect; time to close this deal.
“You know, I have to go to Julie’s family reunion tomorrow. They always have a long sit-down lunch. It’d be pretty embarrassing if I had difficulty sitting all through it. Probably cause a lot of questions. And of course you’d be on my mind the whole day, so I’d also have to hide my hard-on.”
“You’re on notice,” House growled, but he was already back by the bed.
Wilson slipped back to his previous position and successfully hid his grin.
Angry sex was powerful sex, and Wilson got exactly the pounding he wanted. During and after, House refused to touch Wilson’s erection, and wouldn’t let Wilson touch himself, either. Wilson made a show of exasperation but was secretly pleased. The blood rush and aching for release had added an extra element that was so sweet he’d tasted it on his tongue. An extraordinarily pleasurable sensation to file away for another day.
After a quick shower, he picked up his clothes silently as House glared at him, dry swallowing an extra Vicodin, probably in an attempt to piss him off.
He couldn’t decide if House wanted the lecture or not, so he just opened his mouth and closed it again.
House always ate it up when Wilson played the chagrined lover, and this time was no exception. As Wilson stood by the door, ready to leave, head lowered, House crossed to him and pressed against him.
He grabbed Wilson’s lower lip with his teeth, bit gently, then kissed Wilson thoroughly. Wilson ground his erection against House’s naked body, but he counted on House not to let it go any farther.
House broke the kiss and pushed Wilson back a step. “You are still on notice. If you know what’s good for you, you’ll leave that there and won’t jack off tonight.”
“I promise. I won’t jack off tonight.” He pushed all the sincerity he could into his expression, because he did happen to be telling the truth. “Tomorrow morning OK?”
“Get the hell out of here,” House replied, but there was no heat behind it. Two, maybe three days of varying degrees of torture, and then Wilson would be forgiven. They’d be back to normal.
Wilson kept up an air of contriteness all the way back to his car. House wasn’t generally the type for spying out the window, but sometimes that son of a bitch seemed to have eyes in the back of his head.
When he got in his car, he let out the breath he’d been holding. He drove two blocks, turned right, and pulled over into the first spot he saw. No sense tempting fate by checking his messages in front of House’s place.
He smiled at Julie’s message. She and her sister had gone out for Mexican, which meant they’d had margaritas. And Amy was meeting a friend for an early breakfast the next day, which meant Julie would have already dropped her off at her hotel and would be home when he got there.
He hung up the phone and threw it on the passenger seat as he leaned down toward the glove compartment. A quick search and there it was: his favorite cock ring.
He felt instantly at ease as he slipped it on. Two strokes and he was hard again. This was going to be great.
As he started the car once again, he began rehearsing what he’d say to Julie. “House was such an ass tonight. I don’t even know why I’m friends with him; he’s definitely not worth it. I just kept wishing I was with you instead. Thought of you all the way home, how beautiful you are, how unbelievably sexy. I couldn’t wait to get home to you. See how much you turn me on…”
He was going to have to break it off with that pediatrics nurse. Rockin’ bod, very enthusiastic and inventive, but obviously not as discreet as he had thought. It was for the best anyway; they were almost at the point where attachment would start to creep in. Once they got attached, it was hard to shake them off.
That radiologist – damn, that had been messy. House hadn’t spoken to him for a month.
It was okay, he could give up the nurse. Life is good, he thought as he pulled in his driveway. He unstrapped the cock ring and threw it back in the glove compartment. Then he quickly gave his dick a couple extra strokes, imagining first House’s strong hand on him, then his wife’s sweet mouth. He smiled all the way into the house.
Life was very damn good for Jimmy Wilson.