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3 Times The Secret Got Out
by Little Miss GG
There had been a bet, then there had been another bet. And then Chase had been $200 down and declared that he had to have the chance to win his money back. And then there was tequila and scotch and something blue and sickly and then... nope. Nothing more than that.
Chase stumbled through the doorway and was mildly annoyed by the snort of laughter from behind him. He regained his balance and turned to face the perpetrator. He swayed slightly.
"'m fine! I can go home, House." At this point Chase began the inane giggling again, repeating home, House' over and over. House took a few steps into the apartment and pushed Chase backwards till he fell and landed in an uncoordinated sprawl on the sofa.
Which was when Wilson appeared in the hall way, boxer shorts and undershirt, rubbing his eyes with the heel of his hand and yawing. He took one look at Chase, turned his gaze towards House (who shrugged as if to convey his innocence) and padded into the kitchen. After a few minutes of clanking and water running he called out.
"Coffee?" Chase was still staring at the kitchen doorway, seemingly unable to decipher why a) Dr Wilson was in House's apartment, b) why he was wearing his underwear and c) why he wasn't sleeping on House's sofa. Wilson appeared, harassed, in the doorway. "Chase? Coffee?" He waved a mug in front of the young doctor, trying to gage a reaction.
"Mmm... yeah. Thanks." Chase pulled his eyes away momentarily but found himself staring once again when House limped in to the kitchen. They was the low rumble of voices as the two men spoke and then House appeared with a mug. He nodded a Chase with a smile.
"You own me two hundred bucks, lightweight. Sleep tight." He smiled smugly as he turned away and disappeared down the hallway. A few moments later Wilson appeared with two more mugs. He handed one to Chase and placed one on the coffee table, he then fussed around the apartment gathering a pillow and blanket before returning and setting them out on the sofa. Chase observed the entire thing wordlessly. Wilson picked up his mug from the table and smiled down at the obviously confused Australian.
"Don't try and think about it now you might hurt something. Night Chase." And Wilson picked up his mug and then he too disappeared down the hallway and into the bedroom.
House and Wilson were fighting. The fight had been about a patient but had evolved into a fight about Wilson's need to be liked which had evolved further to an argument about, among other things, Wilson's need to use a hair dryer at seven thirty am. Wilson sighed and pushed his hand through his hair. House reached into his desk draw and pulled out a hairbrush, handing it to Wilson.
"Here. You fucked it up now."
Wilson stared at him for a minute before crossing the distant between them in a few well measured steps. He yanked the hairbrush from House's hand.
"Thank you."
And then crushed their mouths together, teeth and lips colliding messily. House pushed Wilson back towards the desk until he sat down on the edge sending several files cascading to the floor.
"Fuck." He managed to gasp between kisses, attempting hopelessly to stop the flow of paperwork to the floor. He felt House grinning against his lips.
"Later." Wilson's chuckle was cut off by House's tongue in his ear and House's clever fingers working into the knot of Wilson's tie. Wilson slipped his hands beneath House's t-shirt and ran cold palms up and over his stomach. House flinched slightly and nipped at Wilson's earlobe before licking a wet line down his jaw and right across his lips.
The unmistakable sound of someone using a fake cough to interrupt something they wished they hadn't just witnessed reached their ears simultaneously. Wilson leant forward and tried to hide his furious blush behind House's blazer.
"Yes?" House kept his hand in Wilson's tie the other reaching out for the test results Foreman was holding like a talisman, close to his chest in a tight fist.
"Test... test results." He stumbled from the door, practically threw the file across the room and hurried out, shaking his head and nearly colliding with a nurse.
"Who. The fuck. Is at the door. At two in the morning?"
"No one. I want. To see."
"What. If it's. An emergency?"
"Phone. Beeper. Cell. Carrier Pigeon. No one. Needs to knock. On the door. At two. A. M!"
"Jesus fuck!" Wilson dragged his nails up House's back, before clinging on to his shoulders as he was pounded into the mattress. The uneven slightly erratic knocking on the front door continued. The two men in bed continued to ignore it, that was until the knocking was accompanied by a slurred, high pitched, squeaking voice.
"House!? House are you in there?! Are you ok? You left in such a hurry and Foreman said you had something to tell me?"
House's thrusts slowed and finally stilled, Wilson greeted the sudden lack of movement with a frustrated whine and buck his hips up against House.
"Can I come in?" House gave an irritated grunt and looked down at Wilson's face in the half-light of the room. His brow was beaded with sweat, his pupils wide and his lips wet and glistening. House leant down and kissed Wilson's slack mouth.
"House. Are you in there?" With an irritated sigh, House rested his forehead against Wilson's and carefully slid himself free of Wilson's body. Wilson gave another disappointed grunt and rolled his eyes, turning onto his side, suggesting that House was going to regret going to open the door. He decided Cameron was going to regret it at least fifteen times more.
Without bothering to pull on any form of clothing and only just deciding to pull off his condom House ripped the door open with such force and speed that Cameron actually squeaked and stood for several seconds with her hand hovering mid-air as though she were about to knock again. She reeked of something cheap and alcoholic and House suspected he would be punishing Foreman and Chase in the morning too.
"Dr Cameron. How unexpected it is to see you at such a fucking unsociable hour! What, may ask, the fuck are you doing here?!"
"I... I... Foreman said... You had something to tell me...?"
House sighed frustratedly and gripped the edge of the door tightly. "I suspect that dear Dr Foreman was, as the British say, pulling you leg. You have been duped. Hoodwinked. Fooled." House released the edge of the door and began flailing around as he gesticulated. Cameron's eyes stayed fixed to one spot. "Now, if you don't mind, I'm going back to bed. I'm going back to bed and back to my bed partner and back to whatever activity I was enjoying in said bed with said bed partner before you came knocking on my door. Ok?"
Cameron's eyes stayed fixed at a point well below House's navel as she nodded. House slammed the door and stalked back down the corridor. He was greeted by the sight of Wilson, sitting propped up against the headboard, the duvet pulled away from him as he slowly fisted his cock. A wicked smile spread across his lips.
"I love it when you're angry."
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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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