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Wilson's Balcony
by Teyla
AN: Thanks to TLI and Housepiglet for all the help!
From where House was standing, it looked as though Wilson was asleep in his deckchair, and he grinned as he quietly made his way towards the dividing wall. He leaned against it and raised his cane, using it to administer a sudden jab to Wilson's shoulder. With a gasp, Wilson jerked awake.
"House!"
"Wakey wakey, boy wonder," House said cheerfully, swinging his legs over the wall and staying seated on the ledge. "If Cuddy knew you're snoozing on your balcony instead of saving cancer kiddies, she'd cut that raise she gave you right back."
Wilson yawned and rubbed at his eyes, then blinked. "I didn't get a raise."
"No surprise, if all you do is sleep all day."
"You're one to talk," Wilson said and sat up, straightening his tie - a particularly appalling one; stripey and orange and yellow. House made a mental note to burn it first chance he got. "You're the one who kept me awake all night."
House shrugged. "I couldn't sleep."
"Yes, and misery loves company, right?"
"I wasn't miserable." This was true. Annoying Wilson was a cure for any misery that might befall House. And he hadn't been in pain, not any more than usual, anyway. He just hadn't felt like sleeping. "The only one who was cranky and gripey was you."
"Yes, imagine that," Wilson said dryly. He got up from the deckchair and walked over to where House was sitting, leaning his elbows on the diving wall.
"You have to admit, the I Love Lucy rerun was much more exciting than shutting down all alpha and beta-activity in your brain," said House, and Wilson smirked.
"Yes, it was. Less refreshing, though." Wilson leaned forward a bit and craned his neck. "What are the kids up to?"
"Reading through a patient's file. Looking for the missing piece, and as usual not finding it."
"And you?" Wilson glanced up at him. "You found it already?"
"I hid it," House said with a grin. Wilson rolled his eyes, but then grinned as well.
"What does the patient have?" he asked. "IBS?"
"Mono."
Wilson snorted, and House's grin grew a little broader still. "Cameron will think it's Lupus and do an ANA. Chase will say it's cancer and come to you for a lymphnode biopsy. And Foreman will call them both idiots and not come up with anything himself."
Wilson shook his head. "I'm not doing a biopsy on a person that you know suffers from Mono," he said, and House pouted.
"Killjoy."
"Doctor with ethical principles, more like it."
"Same thing."
There was a moment's silence. Then Wilson turned around so he was standing with his back to the dividing wall and raised his head, peering upwards as if he were looking for something. House watched him for a few seconds, then quirked an eyebrow. "Afraid of a Petunia hitting you on the head?" he asked.
Wilson only shook his head, his eyes still roaming over the wall of the hospital. "Who do you think can see onto my balcony?" he asked.
House raised his head as well. "Joyce from radiology, if she opens the window and leans out," he said. "Sawyer from hematology, if he weren't on vacation."
"You know which of the doctors from hematology are on vacation?" Wilson asked, and House shrugged.
"If you had eyes for more than your ham-and-cheese sandwich during lunch, you'd know it, too. A few days ago he was bragging about taking his wife and kids to Europe." He looked around some more. "I think that's it. Aside from the kids, of course. Big Foreman's watching you."
Wilson smirked and turned back around so he could look at House. "Pretty private place then, isn't it? If I lock my door, people won't be able to find me."
"Except if they reroute through Diagnostics," House said, and Wilson snorted.
"They'd have to get past you, first."
House grinned. "True." He gave Wilson a side-glance. "Why all this secrecy all of a sudden, Jimmy? Sounds almost like you're planning on a regular balcony nap."
Wilson looked up and raised an eyebrow. "I have a feeling I'm going to need those, now that I'm living with you."
"Aww, did poor wittle Jimmy not get his beauty sleep? The human body is perfectly capable of functioning on less than six hours of sleep per night, you know. And there are much more interesting things to do on a private balcony besides sleeping."
"Very true," Wilson said, and House turned his head in surprise when he suddenly felt Wilson's shoulder pressing into his side. Wilson had slid closer, and was now looking up at House with a mischievous glint in his eyes. "Because right where we are now," Wilson continued, his voice little more than a suggestive whisper, "almost nobody can see us."
House felt his throat dry up almost instantaneously, and he ran his tongue over his lips. "Want me to show you how to step dance?" he asked, the remark being robbed of some of its dryness by the slight hitching in his throat. Wilson's grin grew even broader.
"Didn't know you could step dance," he said, and moved even closer so he was standing directly in front of House, his face a mere couple of inches from House's, his waist between House's legs and his palms planted on the rough surface of the dividing wall, one on each side of House's legs.
House, quite surprised by the sudden invasion of his personal space - though not necessarily unpleasantly surprised - fought the urge to lean back. "I created step dancing," he said, trying to sound as natural as possible. Which was kind of hard, because his heart had decided to speed up quite a bit, and had relocated itself much closer to his throat than should have been anatomically possible. He tried to arrange his legs and cane in the small space between the wall and Wilson, and Wilson took the cane from him and hooked it over the wall a bit further to the side. Then he grinned, and slowly slid his left hand down the front of House's jeans until it came to rest between House's legs. House held his breath and felt a surge run through him as Wilson squeezed gently.
"It's no good House. There's no-where to go. You're just going to have to save those smooth moves up and show them to me another time."
Before House could say anything, Wilson had slid his free hand behind his back and pulled him in even closer, bridging those last few inches between them and pressing his lips against House's. Almost automatically, House brought his hands up and rested them on Wilson's waist, parting his lips and letting in Wilson's demanding tongue. The hand on his crotch started to move, and House felt himself harden fully, his jeans becoming almost painfully tight. He moaned softly into Wilson's mouth, and he felt Wilson's lips stretch into a smile as he gave another squeeze and then moved his hand upwards to undo the pants button.
"Now, which is more fun," Wilson asked after they'd parted. "Step-dancing, or this?"
"Depends on where you're going with this," House said, his somewhat breathless voice belying the casual remark. Wilson smirked and slid his hand into House's boxers.
"I thought that might have been obvious by now."
He pulled the waistband down, and House felt a whiff of cool air on his hard cock before gentle fingers ran down the length of his erection towards his balls. Almost unknowingly, House slid forwards so he was more leaning against than sitting on the balcony wall, giving Wilson better access. Wilson grinned, and House curled his fingers into the fabric of Wilson's shirt as he felt Wilson's surprisingly soft hand cup his balls, administering a gentle caress. He leaned forward again, seeking out Wilson's mouth, and Wilson responded willingly enough, his lips soft and wet against House's. House pushed his tongue into Wilson's mouth, running it over his teeth and pressing up even closer against the other man.
Wilson's fingers were slowly moving upwards, his thumb applying gentle pressure to the base of House's cock while his fingers were still fondling House's balls. House felt his own breathing going a lot quicker than normally, and he turned his head to one side, moaning a little and kissing the soft skin of Wilson's cheek. He felt Wilson's warm breath against his neck and gasped softly when Wilson began to nuzzle the skin there.
"Mhm, House," he heard him say, and the smile was obvious in his voice. "You didn't actually shave this morning, now did you?"
"Not really," House said, somewhat breathlessly. The fingers in his pants were now exploring the length of his throbbing erection, giving a gentle tug now and then that sent waves of pleasure through House's body. "Did yesterday, though."
Wilson gave a low chuckle, and then he suddenly stopped nuzzling and lightly grazed his teeth over the sensitive skin of House's neck, nipping at House's earlobe. House drew in a sharp breath, and clenched his hands even tighter as Wilson wrapped his fingers around his cock, beginning a slow massage that steadily increased in speed.
He gave a low moan and rested his forehead on Wilson's shoulder, glad for both the wall behind him and the firm, steady body in front of him keeping him upright. He felt his heart thumping in his chest, and Wilson's right hand splayed out on his back, while the left was squeezing and tugging and pulling and doing all the things that it knew so well how to do. House could feel himself approaching the edge, his breathing growing faster and his fingers clenching and unclenching rhythmically in synch with the pace Wilson was setting.
Suddenly, though, Wilson stopped and pulled back, and House grunted in protest. "What- ?"
Wilson took hold of his wrists and guided his hands to the wall. "Hold on to that," he said. House, trying to catch his breath, did as he was told, and his eyes sought out Wilson, who smiled and then got to his knees in front of him.
House's chest clenched in anticipation, and he closed his eyes a second before he felt Wilson's wet, hot mouth close over his erection. "Oh God," he breathed, and then all coherent thought deserted him as Wilson began to suck him off, moving back and forth and flicking his tongue over the taut, sensitive skin. House dug his fingers into the hard concrete of the wall behind him and clenched his teeth, and then the sensation of Wilson's teeth lightly grazing over his cock made all kinds of colors explode behind his eyelids.
He moaned loudly as he came, doubling over, and he would probably have fallen if Wilson hadn't grabbed his arms and supported him as he slid slowly to the floor of the balcony. The tiles felt very cold under his palms, and his heart was racing in his chest. Slowly, House opened his eyes to find Wilson looking at him with a decidedly smug smile on his face.
"You made a mess," Wilson stated, not sounding bothered about that at all. House looked down his front, and saw that pushing his shirt aside might indeed have not been such a bad idea. He rolled his eyes and looked up.
"Imagine that," he said. Even to his own ears he still sounded a little out of breath. "You got anything clean to wear in your office?"
Wilson, who had produced a kleenex from somewhere and was wiping his hand, nodded. "I think I've got a shirt somewhere."
House nodded and snatched the kleenex from Wilson, rather ineffectively dabbing at his shirt. He gave up after a few moments and followed Wilson's example, getting to his feet and zipping up his pants. Then he grabbed his cane and limped after Wilson into his office to change.
-###-
Five minutes later, House entered the Diagnostics office and snatched the file that Chase was holding from his hand.
"Well? Found the cure already?" he asked cheerfully. Chase seemed a little distracted, though. He opened his mouth to say something, but then just stared for a moment before he narrowed his eyes at him.
"Why exactly are you wearing Wilson's shirt?" he asked, and House looked down at himself and then back at Chase, rolling his eyes.
"Moron boy wonder spilled his coffee all over me," he said and waved the file. "What about the patient? I'm sure his life's more interesting than my shirt."
"She's a woman," Chase said, but his attention seemed to be elsewhere. He scrutinized House for another moment and then House saw his eyes flick to the side. House followed his eyes and felt his stomach drop a few inches as he saw what Chase had been looking at.
The balcony door of the Diagnostics office was standing wide open.
Fuck.
House was well aware that Diagnostics had very good acoustics.
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Legal Disclaimer: The authors published here make no claims on the ownership of Dr. Gregory House and the other fictional residents of Princeton-Plainsboro Teaching Hospital. Like the television show House (and quite possibly Dr. Wilson's pocket protector), they are the property of NBC/Universal, David Shore and undoubtedly other individuals of whom I am only peripherally aware. The fan fiction authors published here receive no monetary benefit from their work and intend no copyright infringement nor slight to the actual owners. We love the characters and we love the show, otherwise we wouldn't be here.
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