Supernatural, Castiel

House/Wilson - It's Hard to Define (when you're in denial) - House M.D.

Author:eliviralikespie
Category: House M.D.
Rating: NC-17
Wordcount: 1,454
Pairings: House/Wilson
Warnings: None really
Summary: He can't really define their relationship. He's pretty sure that they're friends, at least he considers House to be his friend, but until now he's never felt the need to define it. They've never actually slept together, he's not even sure that he wants to, and as he pins House against the wall of the elevator, he can't even remember how it started.

Author's Note: Yay, my first House fic and my first slash fic at the same time. Whatever happened to those days when i swore I'd never write slash? XD Well here it is, from Wilson's POV. It's not beta'd, but if anyone is interested feel free to message me!

Enjoy!



It's Hard to Define (when you're in denial)

Their mouths crush together in a tangle of teeth and tongue, and James thinks that it's not particularly surprising they've ended up here. Neither of them want to admit that there are feelings involved (for himself, it would mean that he might be a little bit gay, and for House it would mean admitting that he has any feelings at all), so they seem to have regressed to teenagers, skirting around the topic and making out in elevators.

House is pressed against the wall, James supporting him with his arms as they kiss, and it's wonderful the way House's knee presses just right against his crotch. A tongue brushes his and James barely stifles a moan. He feels House smirk against his lips, so he must've failed. James steps back slightly, moving to kiss and bite at House’s neck and House tilts his head back, fingers grasping at James’s hair. House gasps softly and this time it's James's turn to smirk. He pulls away, lips hovering inches from House’s and he meets his eyes.

"We should really talk about this." He breaths, ever practical.

"No," House murmurs, "we really shouldn't."

"But–" James starts but House interrupts.

"Less talking, more kissing." House commands, crushing his lips back against James, arching his hips sharply.

James gasps.

Teeth clash as James fights for dominance of the kiss, pushing House hard against the wall. He can feel himself hardening in his slack as House nips at his jawline with a perfect mix of pain and pleasure, and he pushes his hips forward, searching for friction.

The elevator stops suddenly and they spring apart. So much for the “out of order” sign House had unceremoniously slapped on the doors as they walked in. James fumbles with the buttons on his shirt, fruitlessly trying to push them back into their holes. Beside him, House straightens his jacket and runs a hand through his hair. The doors open, and James hopes that whoever is waiting doesn't notice that his tie is askew and House's cane is laying haphazardly on the floor. House scoops scoops it up, quickly brushing past the wide-eyed nurse.

They should talk about this, this whatever it is, James knows that they should, but he doesn't stop House as the other doctor limps off. This isn't the first time he chickened out and probably won't be the last. What they have is fragile, and James doesn't want to risk it, whatever it is.


Cuddy's office has never seen so intimidating as House and James sit in front of her desk. Cuddy looks anything but pleased, a little rumpled, and a lot annoyed.

"I've heard complaints," she clears her throat uncomfortably, "that you," she glares at both of them," have been having... Uh... intimate relations around the hospital."

House gives a snort of laughter. "Intimate relations? What are you? Amish? You're a big girl, you can say that Wilson and I got caught making out in the elevator by a prudish nurse." House ogles Cuddy's chest unashamedly and James wills his chair to open up and swallow him.

Cuddy purses her lips. "Anyway, I've had multiple complaints." She shifts uncomfortably and James doesn't think that he's ever seen her look this uncomfortable, he almost feel sorry for her. Almost. "Just, please refrain from fraternizing in the open."

House snorts unattractively and moves to stand. "Can we go now? Lives to save and all that."

Cuddy doesn't look happy but shoes him out with a vague wave of her hand. "Dr. Wilson, would you stay please?"

It's James's turn to shift uncomfortably in his chair, but he stays put as House slips to the door.

"What are you doing?” Cuddy asks as soon as the door closes behind House’s retreating figure and it takes James an embarrassingly long moment to understand what she means.

"I have no idea." James sighs truthfully but Cuddy just raises her eyebrows. “Jesus!" He swears, running his hands over his face fingers through his hair. "I don't know. "

Cuddy sighs. "Wilson," she pauses, then seems to change her mind about what to say, "just be careful. "

"You're worried about House?” James asks incredulously.

Cuddy laughs. "No James, I'm worried about you.” She pauses. “I've seen the way you look at him. "

"Oh." James says intelligently and is incredibly grateful when his pager trills loudly from its place on his belt.

"I've got to go." He says with confidence he doesn't really feel. "Is that all you needed to talk about? "

"Yes. Go on. "

James stands as fast as he can without looking like he's running away. Cuddy sighs and mutters something under her breath. James makes for the door. As soon as James exits the office House accosts him from where he must've been waiting just around the corner. James sees him shove his pager into his pocket and House smirks.

"My hero, you saved me." James snips and House rolls his eyes.

“Well,” House starts, “if you died of embarrassment I’d have to start paying for blowjobs again?" He wiggles his eyebrows suggestively and James can feel his face reddening.

On a normal day, James would tell House off for paging him without an actual medical emergency, but he's grateful that, this time, House's penchant for ignoring the rules has gotten him out of Cuddy's office, and a conversation that he's been trying very hard not to have with himself, let alone his boss.

"Come on honey.” House says, voice dripping with sarcasm. "I've got ducklings to heard and you've got dying people to kill." He starts down the hall.

James shakes his head and follows.


"Oh!" James gasps as House sucks him down, fondling his balls and grasping the base of his cock. House's fingers leave his balls and stroke at his hole and oh, that's new. "Shit!" James hisses, jerks his hips, and comes.

House spits into a small trashcan near the door of the supply closet that they're occupying. He grins and pulls James down to his knees for a kiss. James can taste himself on House’s tongue as he struggles to undo House’s pants and wrap his hand around his cock. He pulls at it once, twice, and House is gone too, coming on James’s fingers.

"What ever happened to long and drawn out?" House asks, smirking. James ignores him and House grins against his mouth. James pulls back.

"House. We really need to talk. "He says lazily, still feeling fuzzy from the orgasm.

"No." Houses, putting himself painfully back to standing, wincing at the pain in his leg. He tucks himself back into his pants and buttons them up before grabbing his cane from where it's leaning against the wall. "We definitely do not. "

James straightens his shirt and jacket and House limps quickly to the door, leaving James still on the floor with his dick out and pants around his ankles. James feels vaguely used as he sits there, his mind racing.

He huffs, and, deciding that he's going to have a sexual identity crisis later and not now, in a dark supply closet, he stands and looks unhappily around for something to wipe off his hand. There's a box of tissues with only a few left and he pulls them out to clean up the mess before tossing them and the empty box into the trashcan.

They really do need to talk. James can't keep doing this. One of them is going to have to break down first, and because it's not going to be House, it has to be James.

He can't go on like this, quickies in supply closets at odd hours of the day and night, and making out in elevators, he's got way too much self-respect for that. He won't be just another person in the long line of broken lovers that House least behind him. He can't do it, won't do it, because even after all the shit House has put him through, from prescription forgeries, to finding House convulsing on the floor from not so accidental drug overdoses is, he still cares. He still wants the bastard in his life.

Cuddy has seen it, House must have noticed, James thinks he must have been the only one in the whole damn hospital who hadn't seen it. Has seem that Dr. James Wilson is hopelessly and foolishly in love with Dr. Gregory House.

James straightens his clothes, fixes this tie, smooths down his hair, and opens the door with more force than necessary.

He stalks down the hallway and bursts into House’s office. House is sitting in his chair, legs propped up on his desk and throwing a hot pink bouncy ball rhythmically at the wall.

"House, we are going to talk."


  • Current Location: Grandfather's House
  • Current Mood: accomplished
  • Current Music: Bagpipe Christmas... IDEK
i agree with srsly_yes, we need a Rashomon type version of this from House's POV, and it's hot.