Holding out for a Hero (House/Wilson) R
Aug. 23rd, 2009 07:43 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
lilyleia78Title: Holding out for a Hero
Fandom: House
Pairing: House/Wilson
Rating: R
Word Count: ~1300
Summary: Cuddy manages to seriously mess up House's bachelor party. Luckily, she knows what - or rather who - can fix it.
Note: Stands alone, but technically part of the Bordersauce Communication series. A birthday present forchickloveslotr! She kind of vaguely asked for vulnerable House and defensive Wilson. This probably isn't what she had in mind. ^_^ I love you, my sweet, sweet girl. XOXOXO
Holding out for a Hero
“Cuddy,” House mused to his best man, “have I ever told you about the recurring nightmare I’ve been having since getting engaged?”
“Does it involve black ties, a string quartet, and fish eggs served on crackers?” She asked in a defeated voice as she and House surveyed the described scene playing out before them.
“No actually, there’s a big bowl of curry and Taub in a speedo.” House pulled a face to convey the depths of his terror before continuing. “But I think that’s all going to change after tonight. From here on out it’ll be nothing but sweet, sweet dreams of revenge upon the perpetrator of this freak show.”
“I know.” Cuddy muttered darkly, apparently to herself. “I’ll have her head.”
House tilted his head and narrowed his eyes at her. Noticing the scrutiny, Cuddy said, “I’m sorry. She was so eager, and I didn’t think anyone could screw up a bachelor party for heaven’s sake.”
House was confused, a feeling he hated. His scowl deepened. “This is my bachelor party? I thought you’d just duped me into attending one of your little charity events that the donors like so much.”
“I let Cameron plan it.” Cuddy sighed in defeat then placed her hands on her hips defensively, turning to face House. “Believe it or not, House. I actually have a lot of other things on my plate besides being your best man, like that little hobby of mine, what is it? Oh yeah, running a hospital. Cameron offered to help.”
“She couldn’t have helped with something less important? Like signing off on nurse’s rotations, or placating self-important windbags.”
“I thought planning this bachelor party was placating a self-important windbag.” Cuddy said.
House ignored that completely. He was looking around the banquet room with a mixture of incredulity and dismay on his face. “So instead of putting her somewhere where she’d do the least amount of damage, you let her set up a black-tie cocktail party in this, this pathetic excuse for a luxury hotel?”
“I didn’t let her exactly,” Cuddy protested. “She told me she wanted to use a hotel. It was for you; I assumed her reasons were nefarious.”
“You weren’t at all suspicious of the invitations requesting ‘black tie”
Cuddy cringed, but rolled her eyes defiantly. “High class prostitutes?”
“You wish,” House retorted.
Cameron approached the man of the hour with a huge smile, her eyes sparkling with delight. “House! Are you surprised? Isn’t it wonderful?” She turned to survey the crowd of hospital personnel mingling near the refreshment table.
“Oh, yeah. Just like my senior prom – filled with lots of people I don’t like and no chance of me getting laid.”
Cameron’s face fell in spectacular fashion before it hardened in anger. “At your age, I’d thought you’d prefer something slightly more dignified than a dimly light room of naked bodies.”
“Thinking’s not really your strong suit, is it?” House asked.
The blonde woman threw up her hands in defeat and stomped away muttering darkly, “I don’t know why I even try.”
“At least Wilson’s having fun,” House said to no one in particular as he slumped into a chair.
Cuddy quietly excused herself and flipped open her phone. Maybe she could avoid the 100 hours of clinic duty she was going to have to let House out of to make this fiasco up to him if she did some fast talking.
**
House was seconds away from faking a seizure in order to escape the tedium that had become his life when he heard a commotion from nearby, possibly the hotel lobby. It sounded like someone out there was enjoying their night a lot more than he was enjoying his. He wondered if anyone would notice if he joined the fun crowd. Not that he cared if they did.
There was no time to contemplate any further action as the doors to their private banquet room were flung open. Framed in the doorway, like some shining knight of old, stood Wilson, behind him, his glorious army – of strippers.
“My hero,” House whispered gratefully to himself.
Wilson made a beeline for his astonished fiancé while the professionals accompanying him quickly took over the room. House grinned gleefully when the string quartet in the corner was usurped by the jazz trio Wilson had brought along.
“I’m here to rescue you,” Wilson announced proudly as he took a seat next to House.
“You just couldn’t resist could you?”
“You know me and damsels in distress.”
House scowled at the description, but Wilson was not to be deterred. He wrapped his hands around House’s waist and drug the other man onto his lap, so effortlessly careful of the right leg that House almost didn’t notice.
Pulling a face of annoyance, but not moving from his perch, House took a moment to survey his reformed party. Taub was chatting up a slim brunette whom House was certain was really a man. Kutner had drug Thirteen out onto the dance floor. Or maybe it was the other way around; House had missed that part. Foreman was holding court with a group of wide-eyed innocents (must be friends of Cameron, House thought to himself). Cameron herself was standing in a corner, pouting and deliberately ignoring the gaggle of strippers showering their attention on Chase.
And man where there a lot of strippers. House was glad that Wilson’s brother had paid for them. House liked strippers, but there had to be a least a dozen. That couldn’t be cheap. Although, he appreciated that they were currently giving Wilson the erection pressed happily against his hip.
He turned toward his fiancé to say something snarky about his libido and found warm brown eyes caressing his back. Oh, he thought stupidly, not the strippers then.
Surrounded by beautiful half-naked men and women, the panty peeler of Princeton-Plainsboro wanted him. Warmth that he thought he should be used to by now filled him, and he knew he’d have gladly paid the wages of every stripper in New Jersey and New York just for this knowledge. Although pain of death and/or rehab wouldn’t make it him admit that out loud.
If he’d had two healthy legs, House would have spun around to straddle the object of his desire. He would have pushed his burgeoning erection into Wilson’s already hard one and rocked them steadily together until his dress pants were covered in two kinds of cum. And damn the audience.
Instead he turned until Wilson’s cock was lined up against his ass crack and wiggled as if settling himself. Above the music and cheering crowd he heard Wilson gasp. House smiled wickedly and began to rock ever-so-slowly on Wilson’s lap.
Wilson’s hands shot out to frantically to grab House’s hips. Whether to stop him or speed him up House wasn’t sure, and he didn’t wait to find out. He stood up as quickly as he could in his condition and held out a hand for his lover.
Wilson ignored it and stood up on his own. House didn’t move and now they were standing chest-to-chest. Wilson reached up to cup the back of House’s neck and pulled him in for an agonizingly tender kiss. House swiped his tongue across Wilson’s lips, and the other man opened for him. He thrust is tongue in forcefully and rhythmically, in mimicry of want he wanted, turning the sweet kiss frantic and dirty.
Wilson got the message. He turned and led the way toward the reception desk. House glanced back at the party, hoping everyone noticed him leaving with the hottest guy in the room and saw Cuddy smiling at them. Grudgingly he admitted to himself that maybe she wasn’t the worst best man after all.
**
Continue on to the wedding
Back up to the previous part
Start from the beginning
The complete list of my House fic can be found here.
Fandom: House
Pairing: House/Wilson
Rating: R
Word Count: ~1300
Summary: Cuddy manages to seriously mess up House's bachelor party. Luckily, she knows what - or rather who - can fix it.
Note: Stands alone, but technically part of the Bordersauce Communication series. A birthday present for
chickloveslotr! She kind of vaguely asked for vulnerable House and defensive Wilson. This probably isn't what she had in mind. ^_^ I love you, my sweet, sweet girl. XOXOXOHolding out for a Hero
“Cuddy,” House mused to his best man, “have I ever told you about the recurring nightmare I’ve been having since getting engaged?”
“Does it involve black ties, a string quartet, and fish eggs served on crackers?” She asked in a defeated voice as she and House surveyed the described scene playing out before them.
“No actually, there’s a big bowl of curry and Taub in a speedo.” House pulled a face to convey the depths of his terror before continuing. “But I think that’s all going to change after tonight. From here on out it’ll be nothing but sweet, sweet dreams of revenge upon the perpetrator of this freak show.”
“I know.” Cuddy muttered darkly, apparently to herself. “I’ll have her head.”
House tilted his head and narrowed his eyes at her. Noticing the scrutiny, Cuddy said, “I’m sorry. She was so eager, and I didn’t think anyone could screw up a bachelor party for heaven’s sake.”
House was confused, a feeling he hated. His scowl deepened. “This is my bachelor party? I thought you’d just duped me into attending one of your little charity events that the donors like so much.”
“I let Cameron plan it.” Cuddy sighed in defeat then placed her hands on her hips defensively, turning to face House. “Believe it or not, House. I actually have a lot of other things on my plate besides being your best man, like that little hobby of mine, what is it? Oh yeah, running a hospital. Cameron offered to help.”
“She couldn’t have helped with something less important? Like signing off on nurse’s rotations, or placating self-important windbags.”
“I thought planning this bachelor party was placating a self-important windbag.” Cuddy said.
House ignored that completely. He was looking around the banquet room with a mixture of incredulity and dismay on his face. “So instead of putting her somewhere where she’d do the least amount of damage, you let her set up a black-tie cocktail party in this, this pathetic excuse for a luxury hotel?”
“I didn’t let her exactly,” Cuddy protested. “She told me she wanted to use a hotel. It was for you; I assumed her reasons were nefarious.”
“You weren’t at all suspicious of the invitations requesting ‘black tie”
Cuddy cringed, but rolled her eyes defiantly. “High class prostitutes?”
“You wish,” House retorted.
Cameron approached the man of the hour with a huge smile, her eyes sparkling with delight. “House! Are you surprised? Isn’t it wonderful?” She turned to survey the crowd of hospital personnel mingling near the refreshment table.
“Oh, yeah. Just like my senior prom – filled with lots of people I don’t like and no chance of me getting laid.”
Cameron’s face fell in spectacular fashion before it hardened in anger. “At your age, I’d thought you’d prefer something slightly more dignified than a dimly light room of naked bodies.”
“Thinking’s not really your strong suit, is it?” House asked.
The blonde woman threw up her hands in defeat and stomped away muttering darkly, “I don’t know why I even try.”
“At least Wilson’s having fun,” House said to no one in particular as he slumped into a chair.
Cuddy quietly excused herself and flipped open her phone. Maybe she could avoid the 100 hours of clinic duty she was going to have to let House out of to make this fiasco up to him if she did some fast talking.
**
House was seconds away from faking a seizure in order to escape the tedium that had become his life when he heard a commotion from nearby, possibly the hotel lobby. It sounded like someone out there was enjoying their night a lot more than he was enjoying his. He wondered if anyone would notice if he joined the fun crowd. Not that he cared if they did.
There was no time to contemplate any further action as the doors to their private banquet room were flung open. Framed in the doorway, like some shining knight of old, stood Wilson, behind him, his glorious army – of strippers.
“My hero,” House whispered gratefully to himself.
Wilson made a beeline for his astonished fiancé while the professionals accompanying him quickly took over the room. House grinned gleefully when the string quartet in the corner was usurped by the jazz trio Wilson had brought along.
“I’m here to rescue you,” Wilson announced proudly as he took a seat next to House.
“You just couldn’t resist could you?”
“You know me and damsels in distress.”
House scowled at the description, but Wilson was not to be deterred. He wrapped his hands around House’s waist and drug the other man onto his lap, so effortlessly careful of the right leg that House almost didn’t notice.
Pulling a face of annoyance, but not moving from his perch, House took a moment to survey his reformed party. Taub was chatting up a slim brunette whom House was certain was really a man. Kutner had drug Thirteen out onto the dance floor. Or maybe it was the other way around; House had missed that part. Foreman was holding court with a group of wide-eyed innocents (must be friends of Cameron, House thought to himself). Cameron herself was standing in a corner, pouting and deliberately ignoring the gaggle of strippers showering their attention on Chase.
And man where there a lot of strippers. House was glad that Wilson’s brother had paid for them. House liked strippers, but there had to be a least a dozen. That couldn’t be cheap. Although, he appreciated that they were currently giving Wilson the erection pressed happily against his hip.
He turned toward his fiancé to say something snarky about his libido and found warm brown eyes caressing his back. Oh, he thought stupidly, not the strippers then.
Surrounded by beautiful half-naked men and women, the panty peeler of Princeton-Plainsboro wanted him. Warmth that he thought he should be used to by now filled him, and he knew he’d have gladly paid the wages of every stripper in New Jersey and New York just for this knowledge. Although pain of death and/or rehab wouldn’t make it him admit that out loud.
If he’d had two healthy legs, House would have spun around to straddle the object of his desire. He would have pushed his burgeoning erection into Wilson’s already hard one and rocked them steadily together until his dress pants were covered in two kinds of cum. And damn the audience.
Instead he turned until Wilson’s cock was lined up against his ass crack and wiggled as if settling himself. Above the music and cheering crowd he heard Wilson gasp. House smiled wickedly and began to rock ever-so-slowly on Wilson’s lap.
Wilson’s hands shot out to frantically to grab House’s hips. Whether to stop him or speed him up House wasn’t sure, and he didn’t wait to find out. He stood up as quickly as he could in his condition and held out a hand for his lover.
Wilson ignored it and stood up on his own. House didn’t move and now they were standing chest-to-chest. Wilson reached up to cup the back of House’s neck and pulled him in for an agonizingly tender kiss. House swiped his tongue across Wilson’s lips, and the other man opened for him. He thrust is tongue in forcefully and rhythmically, in mimicry of want he wanted, turning the sweet kiss frantic and dirty.
Wilson got the message. He turned and led the way toward the reception desk. House glanced back at the party, hoping everyone noticed him leaving with the hottest guy in the room and saw Cuddy smiling at them. Grudgingly he admitted to himself that maybe she wasn’t the worst best man after all.
**
Continue on to the wedding
Back up to the previous part
Start from the beginning
The complete list of my House fic can be found here.
