house_wilson_ghc | if you wanna touch the sky, better learn how to kneel

Title: If you wanna touch the sky, better learn how to kneel
Author:

phinnia
Rating: NC-17 for smexy boylove
Prompt:

houseonmywilson: seduction.
Disclaimer: Not mine. (damnit!)
Author's Note: Gotta watch out for those oncologists. Especially the pervy bisexual ones.

The apartment was dark when he got home, and so he almost stepped on the first one. The only thing that saved it from an undignified death under the heel of his Nikes was a rogue moonbeam that caught the corner of its wrapping and tossed a tell-tale glow toward his eye.

A single square of chocolate, wrapped in foil, sitting on the floor.

Wait.

There was another one.

Another.

A grin tickled the corner of his mouth. This was either the work of a burglar (with a sweet tooth, expensive tastes, and a hole in his pocket?) or a certain mischevious oncologist.

"Oh my goodness." House intoned, his voice echoing in the empty room. "Someone has left chocolates all over the floor."

Silence. He picked up another one, unwrapped it and popped it in his mouth, savoring the sweet wafer as it melted slowly on his tongue.

92% pure cacao. God.

Oh yes. Expensive chocolate? Definitely the mark of an oncologist. This was exactly the sort of thing they used to lure in their prey.

You had to watch out for those oncologists. Especially those pervy bisexual ones with floppy hair and bedroom eyes. They'd just worm their way into your life before you knew it, and then suddenly you woke up next to them of a morning. Crafty little buggers they were.

Damn good in bed though. Oh yeah. House grinned again in the dark and allowed himself the luxury of a brief anticipatory caress, his hips arching into the welcome pressure of his hand for a moment before he pocketed the chocolate square and continued on. The trail led around the sofa, past the coffee table and piano, and down the short hallway before coming to an abrupt stop at the bedroom door.

Of course.

"I'll just have to pick them up then, won't I?"

And another. They were all different flavours: some plain, some mint, some espresso, but they were all luxuriously dark, his favorite. He'd say they were better than sex, but he had a funny feeling sex was going to come out on top before the evening was over.

Mmmm. Top.

He ate another chocolate and opened the bedroom door.

Wilson was lounging casually on the bed, wearing nothing but the best kind of naughty smile. "Hey."

"You little minx. Trying to tempt me with food, are you?" He tossed his shirts aside, leaning over for a kiss as his lover rolled into a sitting position.

"Isn't it the best way?"

"One of them." he admitted, voice cracking as Wilson caressed his bare chest and fumbled deliberately with the buttons on his jeans. "Although I have to say, looking like you do right now is probably the other one."

Wilson's eyes sparkled in the moonlight. He pulled Greg back on the bed, climbed next to him on his hands and knees and tugged the button fly open with his teeth."What about this?" he murmured around a mouthful of denim, chuckling at the moan as he stripped the rest of House's clothes away.

"That's ... oh yeah. What's gotten into you?"

"Nothing." Another of those sexy chuckles. "Yet."

House had a strange feeling that he was being played, but a certain pair of sweet, pouty lips mouthing the very tip of his foreskin made him forget why that was a problem. Wilson's tongue slowly caressed the length of his cock, licking a wide, swirling stripe from tip to base. His hands roamed up House's sides, firm enough not enough to tickle but unmistakably sensual, tweaking a nipple as they arched across his chest and down.

"I was wondering when you'd be home." Wilson was gently rearranging him on the bed.

"Oh yeah?"

"I've been waiting for you. Thinking about you, touching myself..." Something warm, hard and beautifully familiar brushed against his side, and House felt his own cock twitch happily in response. "Making sure I'm all ready for you ..."

His breath caught in his throat. "Oh, God, James."

"No sense repeating yourself." The high beams of a passing car lit up the room like the flash of a camera: Wilson's lascivious grin, his hands rolling a condom down House's length, the floppy hair and bedroom eyes and sculpted planes of his ass as he knelt on the bed and grinned over his shoulder while he proffered the bottle of lube. House would have made a sarcastic comment, but he wasn't sure how accurate it would be anyway. Maybe Wilson was God - or the Devil, tempting, beautiful bastard that he was, kneeling on the bed and sliding two fingers into himself - and if so, House was contemplating a conversion to a life of service and worship.

As soon as he was done here. He traced a trail of kisses up Wilson's spine and slid inside him just as he reached the base of his neck, grinning at his lover's muffled curse, savoring the sweet, hot tightness that enveloped him. Wilson was close, he could tell by the way each breath tore itself from his throat and the way he squirmed against the bedsheets desperately seeking friction. He wrapped one hand around Wilson's cock and changed his angle slightly, bumping up against the prostate - and apparently that was just enough. Wilson's body rippled beautifully in the dark, the added tension from his orgasm sending House into his own, hard and breathless.

He pulled away and collapsed on the bed, panting. Wilson grinned again and ran his tongue along House's jaw as he cleaned them both off with a cool washcloth. Then he popped a chocolate wafer into House's mouth. "Greg?"

"Mmmm. Yeah?"

"Your mom called. Your parents want to have lunch with us tomorrow."

"Oh God."

Yeah. Definitely the devil.