Fic: Nightswimming, House/Wilson, NC-17

[Title]: Nightswimming
[Fandom]: House
[Pairing]: House/Wilson
[Rating]: NC-17
[Words]: 4,540
[Summary]: House and Wilson sneak into Julie's pool one warm night. Just to swim. Really. I
swear.
[Author]:

cenori

[Notes]: Written for

suburbanamnesia

, my winning bidder in the

help_haiti

auction. She

requested "season one/two era House/Wilson, being boys and generally causing trouble," so this
takes place around the "Sex Kills" era of House-and-Wilson-living-together-post-divorce
shenanigans. My personal favorite of all shenanigans!

“Well,” Wilson said after a long, contemplative pause. “I’m going to go out on a limb here and
guess that you didn’t think this all the way through.”

“Can it,” House muttered. He tapped the rubber tip of his cane on the ground once, twice in
frustration. “You could have warned me about the gate.”

“Oh, but I did warn you about the gate. Several times. In fact, I believe it was the first thing I
brought up when you suggested this bright idea.”

House grumbled under his breath. Both men continued to stare at the chain-link fence before them,
blocking them from their destination – the clear, still, in-ground pool on the other side. “We’ve
gotta be able to pick the lock somehow. You’ve got a couple of cutesy barrettes in your hair, right?”

“I think you’re mistaking me for Chase. Which is interesting, considering what we’re about to do.”
A look. “Is there something I should know?”

“Baby, he meant nothing to me, I swear,” House said while lifting his cane and bringing it down,
hard, on the gate’s lock.

Wilson yelped and caught the handle of the cane in the air. “Knock it off! If we’re going to do this,
we’re going to do it quietly.”

“Oh, come on!” A flail of his arm wrenched his cane from Wilson’s grip. “What better way to sneak
into your ex-wife’s pool – which, I remind you, would be your pool if you hadn’t driven said ex-
wife to adultery and agreed in the prenuptials to give her the house in exchange for not having to
pay, why yes, even more alimony – than with a bang? And I still can’t believe you didn’t keep a
key.”

“Yeah, well, when your ex-husband is best friends with Greg House, you tend to change your
locks.” He pointedly ignored the rest of House’s comments. “I don’t suppose you feel like
climbing? This was your idea.”

“Yeah, yeah.” House rolled his eyes. “Whatever. It’s not even that high of a fence.” He nudged
Wilson in the small of his back with his cane, pushing him forward. “You go first.”

Wilson turned to glare at him, face a perfect mixture of doubt and pissy-ness. “You just said it isn’t
that high.”

“So? Be a gentleman and go first.” He nudged Wilson again. “Catch me like the delicate damsel
that I am.”

Wilson glared a few seconds more for good measure, then turned to the fence with a sigh.

It really wasn’t that high; it came up to their shoulders. Wilson was a little awkward going over – if
he had ever been spry, it was a long time ago – but it could have been worse. At least he was
wearing jeans and a t-shirt. Watching Wilson struggle up five-and-a-half feet of metal in a tie, dress
shirt, and slacks would have had House laughing too hard to climb up himself. Add in a sweater-
vest, and he’d be useless for the rest of the night.

“Stop smirking and get over here,” Wilson ordered. His cheeks were a little flushed, perhaps from
exertion, perhaps from embarrassment. He used to be more athletic.

Hell, we both did, House thought wryly as he tossed Wilson his cane. But at least I have an excuse.
Carefully, he wedged the toe of his left sneaker into a gap in the chain link. He’d have to be slow
about this, but not so slow that he’d lose his footing. If he fell, he’d come down on his right leg, and
that… well, that would suck. This was going to require mostly upper-body strength. Thankfully, he
had that area covered.

Pushing himself up with his left leg was no problem. His right leg was another story, and he winced
a little as he shifted his weight onto it, even though his hands and arms were doing most of the
supporting. He swung his left leg over the top of the fence and got his footing back, aware of
Wilson behind him, and Wilson’s hands hovering at-the-ready near his waist. His own hands steady
on the top of the fence, House pushed off and landed on his left leg, his grip keeping his balance.
His back protested briefly, and he sighed. Like it didn’t give him enough grief already.

“See?” he said, taking his cane back from Wilson. “Piece of cake.”

“Right,” Wilson replied quietly. He wasn’t even looking at House, but around at the pool and the
backyard, unsure, like he had only just realized that they were actually going to go through with
this.

Rolling his eyes, House reached behind himself and pulled at the back of his t-shirt, yanking it off
one-handedly and tossing it at Wilson’s head. “Snap out of it,” he said over his shoulder, trying to
walk forward and kick off his shoes at the same time. “You act like you’ve never swam in your own
pool before.”

“My own pool, yes,” Wilson said. House heard the whispery plop of his discarded t-shirt hitting
cement, but no other clothes followed it. “My angry ex-wife’s pool, not so much.”

“Your slutty ex-wife’s pool,” House corrected, letting his now unzipped jeans fall around his ankles.
“She has no right to be angry. She shouldn’t even have a right to this pool, considering she’s the one
who broke up the marriage. We’re simply getting back at her. Taking back what’s ours.” He kicked
his jeans off to the side and, after a moment’s contemplation, pulled down his briefs and kicked
them away as well.

“Don’t recall it being your pool,” Wilson muttered. “And how is… skinny-dipping, apparently, in

her pool the same as her cheating on me?”

“Because,” House drawled, elongating the second syllable as he slid into the water, “We’re going to
do in your marriage pool all the things we should have been doing in your marriage bed.” He settled
into a lazy float and turned himself to face Wilson, grinning mischievously. “You aren’t nearly
naked enough.”

“House,” Wilson began, but House could already hear the concession in his voice, underneath the
exasperation. “No.”

House’s grin only widened. This was going to be easy. “Yes,” he countered simply, and smiled
sweetly, tilting his head and raising an eyebrow. He knew he wasn’t exactly irresistible, but he was
charming, and when Wilson was in the right mood, House’s dimples could be more persuasive than
his words could ever be.

Wilson sighed and put his hands on his hips, eyeing House sternly, but a tell-tale dimple of his own
tugged at the corner of his mouth. “Just swimming, House. Swimming. No sex.”

“Of course,” House said, fighting off a huge, smug grin. He lifted his chin up towards Wilson.
“Now strip.”

Wilson rolled his eyes, but pulled his shirt off anyway, revealing knobby shoulders and a bit of a
paunch. House let himself smile while Wilson was preoccupied with his belt. There was something
endearing about Wilson’s imperfect body, though House would never admit it. Wilson was an
unlikely ladies’ man, and in a way his body was as awkward as he was. Sometimes the face made
you forget that. The guy really was too pretty for his own good.

House watched appreciatively as the jeans and underwear came off next. “You know, you’re too
damn nice,” he commented as Wilson pointedly folded his, and then House’s, clothes into one neat
pile, all the easier to snatch up if they had to leave in a hurry.

“Well, that’s one way of putting it,” Wilson replied dryly. With his naked back to House, he briefly
struck a pose before all but tip-toeing to the edge of the pool and easing himself in as silently as
possible.

“That’s not exactly what I mean,” House said, though he wasn’t disagreeing. “There’s no reason
you should have given up this house. Julie had the affair. Julie ruined the marriage. Why should she
get rewarded for her bad behavior?” He could see Wilson getting agitated, so he moved closer to let
him know he wasn’t trying to start a fight. “You caved. You always cave.”

“Tell me about it,” Wilson muttered. House reached out and slid his hand gently down Wilson’s
side, but Wilson drifted away to the deeper end of the pool. House frowned.

“I may not have had an affair,” Wilson said, trailing off as he took a moment to duck his head
underwater. He pushed his hair back when he surfaced, blinking the water off his eyelashes. House
swallowed. Wilson looked at him sadly. “But I did ruin the marriage.”

House rolled his eyes. “And you didn’t even get to do it in a fun way.”

“House.” Wilson looked at him warningly.

But House wasn’t done. He moved closer, as close as he could get, careful not to lose touch with the

concrete beneath his feet. He could tread water, but not for long.

“You knew the marriage was ending. Everyone knew the marriage was ending. Me, I heard it from
the janitors. All those nights you spent sleeping in your office.”

Wilson swam even farther away, refusing to look at House.

“All I’m saying is, you could have, you know.” He leaned against the wall at his back and draped
his arms over the ledge. “Spent those nights sleeping with me.”

“House,” Wilson barked again. House couldn’t stop staring at the water running down his neck.
“This was my third marriage. Third. How can you fault me for doing everything I could to try and
save it?”

“Because it wasn’t about what you were doing, it was about what you weren’t doing. And including
me, what you weren’t doing was a hell of a lot.”

Wilson threw up his arms. The splash was loud. Chagrined, he deflated a bit before finally moving
closer to House, if only to continue the conversation in a whisper. House didn’t comply.

“You weren’t coming home in time for dinner; you weren’t going out of your way to spend holidays
with her; you weren’t going to her with whatever problems you had, or offering an ear for her to
discuss her own; and even though you weren’t sleeping with me, you were still spending about
every free moment of your life with me, doing whatever I wanted just so you wouldn’t have to face
her any sooner than was absolutely necessary. How’s that, that sound about right?”

Wilson was silent.

“You do remember how your second marriage ended, too, don’t you?”

“Yes, House!” Wilson spat, his face twisted into something unpleasant. “I remember!”

House merely nodded. “So you knew all the warning signs. You knew it wasn’t going to work out.
But instead of going out with a bang, you went out with a whine.” He paused. “Literally.”

Wilson looked as angry as was possible, when he didn’t have a limb available to gesture furiously
with. “My second marriage ended because I was sleeping with you.”

“Your second marriage ended because you were obsessed with me,” House argued. “Bonnie never
knew that we were sleeping together. If she did, she was damn good at hiding it, but she was never
smart enough to bother. Now, except for the whole not-sleeping-with-me part, how is it any
different than what happened this time around?”

Wilson glared. “I had to do everything I could to make this one work, House.”

“And ‘everything’ equated to ‘not fucking me.’”

“Yes.”

“And how the hell do you think that made me feel?!” House yelled, raising his voice for the first
time that night.

They stared at each other for a long time, Wilson in shock, as if it had never occurred to him to
consider what House had felt. Considering that that was all Wilson ever seemed to do, House should
have been just as surprised, but he wasn’t. They’d played this game before. House could break up as
many Wilson marriages as he liked - somehow, when it counted, he still always came in second.

Wilson covered his face with both hands, rubbing in frustration. Sighing, House reached out and
took him by a wrist, pulling him until they were next to each other again. He wrapped an arm
around Wilson’s waist and held him against his chest.

“You always cave,” he said softly.

“I thought…” Wilson began. He shook his head, rolling his eyes at himself. “I thought that…”

“That if you didn’t fuck me, you wouldn’t want me.”

“No,” Wilson said, smiling a little. “I’m not that clueless.”

House smiled back. “You thought that we could have a normal friendship without the sex.”

“Nothing about us is normal,” Wilson countered. “But… yeah.”

“Yeah,” House said. “How did that work out?”

Wilson finally looked him in the eye, and House held his breath, thrown from being this close after
so long. Wilson’s expression was warm, but there was still something defiant in his eyes, and House
knew that Wilson wasn’t going to give in, not during this conversation. He wasn’t going to get a
straight answer.

“I don’t know,” Wilson said with false nonchalance, confirming House’s suspicions. “You tell me.”

If it were any other night, House would be angry. Furious, enraged. He had every right to be. Here
was the man who had strung him along all these recent years, through a marriage that was a sham
from the very beginning. Refused him the one thing he really wanted while giving him everything
else. Left him with absolutely no explanation, now demanding that he make the first move to win
him back. No apology. No effort.

If it was a night where House didn’t have him naked in his arms, House would never give him the
satisfaction. But it had been too long. House slid his hands up Wilson’s back into his damp hair and
kissed him.

Turns out he always caved, too.

The dam broke. Wilson’s defenses - and they must have been flimsy, they always were - came
tumbling down. House had to take a moment to appreciate how he had held out for so long. The
moment was gone when Wilson moaned into his mouth and House lost all higher brain function.

They were all hands and tongues, just like they always should have been. Never did they work so
seamlessly well together as when they were this close, and it never mattered how much time had
passed. They fit. Always. Despite, because of, everything.

House ran his hands back down Wilson’s back and grabbed his ass, turning them around so Wilson
was pressed between him and the side of the pool. They were both hard, had been almost

immediately, but for now Wilson seemed content to ignore it, to stretch this out as long as they both
could take it. House had other ideas. House had had other ideas for a few years now.

No sooner had House maneuvered a hand between them did Wilson squirm away, and it was only
because House was completely flabbergasted that he let him.

“Not in the pool, House,” Wilson hissed. House’s eyes nearly popped out of his skull.

“Are you kidding me,” he said. “Are you fucking kidding me.”

“House,” Wilson began, and then had to take a moment to collect himself - “Oh God, House,” -
before he had the will to continue. “It’s not that I don’t want to, because - oh, God - I want to.
But…” He flailed about uselessly for a moment. “I can’t… I can’t come in my ex-wife’s pool!”

“Your pool,” House corrected. Demanded. “Your pool. Yours. Revenge. Fucking. Now.”

“House,” Wilson waffled again, and House didn’t let him get any further. He snatched him close
and pressed a kiss to his mouth, his cheek, his neck.

“I am not too proud to beg.” He eased Wilson back against the side of the pool and took him in hand
again, before he could escape. “Not tonight.”

Wilson’s sigh was a shaky, sexy thing. He took House by the biceps and squeezed - and even that
was enough to nearly get him off, Jesus Christ - before pushing just enough for House to get the
message and stop. Barely.

Wilson was sheepish, flushed, but House was confident he had already won the argument that
Wilson was about to needlessly start. He cut him off at the quick.

“Come on, you’re telling me you don’t want to shoot a milky load into your ex-wife’s clear, pristine
swimming pool? Nice surprise for the pool boy?” His expression turned thoughtful. “Maybe it was
the pool boy. In the tool shed. With the garden hose.”

“We don’t have a pool boy,” said Wilson. “And I feel I don’t tell you often enough just how much I
appreciate the fact that you’re treating the mystery of my ex-wife’s affair like a big game of Clue.
Do I even want to know what he’s doing with the garden hose?”

A leer. “Oh, I think you know.”

A grimace. “I hate you. I hate you, and I’m going to steal your clothes and make you hobble home
naked.”

“Of course, if she didn’t have a pool boy then, it’s quite possible she has one now.” Wilson tried to
glare at him, but it lost some of its effect as House had begun to casually stroke him again. “I mean,
you’re cute, but you’re neither swarthy nor built, or any of those other stereotypical pool boy
qualities.” He smiled. “You’re just lucky some of us like our men floppy-haired and chicken-
legged.”

“Oh, yeah, so lucky,” Wilson deadpanned, even while tilting his head back and sighing throatily.

And there it was. House lived his entire life trying to take control of every situation he could get a
good grip on, but it was ridiculous just how easily Wilson could undo him. Soft sounds of pleasure,

the exposure of that lovely neck, full lips parted… so simple, and so rare. A relaxed, aroused
Wilson. It drove House wild.

He doubted Wilson was really aware of this advantage he had over him. No way would he stay so
constantly high-strung if he knew. It was House’s antics that made Wilson tense, but Wilson had
little idea that he could control House almost completely if he just stayed calm, playful, but
forceful. House could never say no to smug Jimmy. Smug Jimmy was hot.

That was the thing about Wilson. Get his walls down, get him out of the tie and away from the
workplace, away from the saintly façade, and you were left with one arrogant son of a bitch. It was
why House had deigned to give him the time of day when they first met, and it was why he kept
coming back. Lately, though, Wilson’s cocky side came out to play less and less. Work, wives, and
yes, House, had worn him down. Everything about him had dulled, from his presence to his resolve.

Contrary to popular belief, House was not happy about this. He didn’t enjoy taking advantage of
Wilson, but he felt like he had to, to see if Wilson would ever fight back. It was his duty to push
Wilson, get him to push in return. It was also his duty, occasionally, to show Wilson a good time. He
didn’t do it often, but hey, spoiling Wilson wouldn’t help anyone. Gotta keep him on his toes.

This, this was a good time. At least, if the noises Wilson was making were any indication, it was.
House smirked a little, quickening his hand, tightening his grip. Wilson moaned and let his head loll
to the side, towards House, before opening his eyes. The intensity of that gaze, boring into his own,
made House want to show Wilson a good time every second of the rest of their lives.

“Yeah,” Wilson whispered, and for a moment House wasn’t sure if Wilson was agreeing with his
thoughts, or his actions. When Wilson slid a hand into House’s hair and pulled him into a kiss, it
ceased to matter.

House’s hand moved with real purpose now, as if he’d just been waiting for permission. Their kiss
was peppered with Wilson’s trembling exhalations. This wasn’t going to take long. House struggled
to focus on the heat of Wilson’s mouth, the sensual tangle of their lips and tongues, and not on
Wilson’s eager noises or wandering hands. He could barely keep himself from rubbing where he
was pressed against Wilson’s thigh. He wanted this to last, didn’t want to lose it all due to some
light friction, like a teenaged boy.

But it had been a long time. Now that they were here, House didn’t know how much longer they
could control themselves, but maybe, maybe they didn’t have to. Maybe this time around, they’d
have all the time in the world.

House wasn’t about to get his hopes up. But, to hell with it. He wasn’t going to hold back, either.

Wilson was nearly completely gone, breath ragged, clinging to House’s arms. House pressed his
mouth to Wilson’s neck and pulled away.

“Up,” he said, patting the ledge behind them.

Wilson’s eyes were so glazed over, House wasn’t completely sure his brain could even process
monosyllabic words at the moment, but eventually he got the idea and, with shaky arms, pushed
himself up to sit, abdomen level with House’s head, every inch of him dripping wet.

House didn’t waste any time taking Wilson into his mouth. No sooner did the tang of chlorine fade
away into the familiar flavor of Wilson did Wilson come like a shot down House’s throat, barely

suppressing a moan. House swallowed happily.

Wilson fell back and lay against the tiled edge of the pool, cool under the night sky. House didn’t let
him go until he felt him soften between his lips. He sucked Wilson’s tender dick down to the head
before releasing him. Wilson let out breathless chuckles from behind his hands.

“Jesus, House,” he murmured.

House agreed. He pushed himself up out of the pool and joined Wilson’s side, laying a hand against
his still quickly rising-and-falling chest.

Wilson smiled up at him. “Okay?” he asked.

House considered the question, the possible answers.

“Yeah,” he said, and smiled back. He leaned down and captured Wilson’s lips in another kiss.

“Good,” Wilson replied once they’d parted. With a shove, he got House on his back and straddled
him.

Wilson was heavy, every muscle relaxed from his orgasm, but he knew exactly where to sit on
House so as not to cause any pain. Hell, House’s leg was the last thing on his mind. The only pain
House felt was in a spot he had no issue letting Wilson touch. His thus-far carefully forgotten dick
swelled in anticipation.

“I don’t know, Jimmy,” he teased. Wilson smirked. “This is an awfully compromising position.
Suppose Julie were to walk out and catch us?”

“Oh, didn’t I tell you?” There was something to Wilson’s tone of voice that caught House’s
attention, warned him that something was about to happen, but he was too distracted by Wilson’s
smugness. Oh, he liked the smugness. “She and the pool boy are out of town.”

It took a moment for House to catch on. He wasn’t proud of it, but hey, pride really didn’t factor
into a night like this. When Wilson’s smirk grew even wider, House could only laugh appreciatively.

“You’re an asshole,” he said.

“Yeah,” Wilson was happy enough to agree.

“Is there a pool boy?”

Wilson shrugged, looking away. “There’s somebody. Wasn’t interested in prying.”

House was reluctant to ask his next question, but it came out anyway. “Are you… okay with that?”

For a moment that lasted long enough for House to start worrying, Wilson looked serious. Then he
bent down and kissed House, taking hold of the erection that rested practically in his lap.

House gasped and bucked his hips, feeling them meet Wilson’s skin, nothing but naked thighs and
Wilson’s own spent member. Wilson grinned.

“Getting to fuck my best friend in my ex-wife’s swimming pool?” He worked his grip well. House

remembered in one fantastic second just how good Wilson had always been at this. “Yeah, I’d say
I’m okay with that.”

House couldn’t reply. House couldn’t breathe.

Wilson wasn’t in as much of a hurry as House had been. He knew exactly how to prolong the
pleasure without being gentle or teasingly slow. The first time they’d done this, years ago, Wilson
had shown a talent for it that House was certain wasn’t just a natural gift. All of his inquiries into
the matter, though, went unanswered. It was just another thing about Wilson that made him
interesting. That made him worth waiting for.

If it was possible, it seemed Wilson was enjoying this as much as House. His breath quickened right
along with House’s, and when his fist twisted just so around House’s head, he bit his lip and sighed.
He rocked into it, meeting House’s hips with every upward thrust. Then, he raised himself a little on
his hands and knees, and the next thing House knew, the tip of his cock was rubbing along the cleft
of Wilson's ass.

“House,” Wilson gasped, “I want…”

“I know.” House grasped his shoulders in an attempt to steady himself, groaning. “But not now. I‘m
gonna…”

There were stars at the edge of his vision, and just for a moment House thought this was it, and he
was going to come all over the pucker of Wilson’s ass. Then Wilson moved back, as much as he
could while settled so near the pool’s edge, and ducked to swallow House whole.

Oh good, oh good, oh good God yes, good. House couldn’t actually say any of that, but he hoped
his completely shameless shout and thunderous, sudden orgasm was proof enough of his opinion on
the matter.

Wilson sucked up every last drop with careful administrations and a wet, warm tongue. When he
was done, he collapsed at House’s side, the two of them staring up at the sky and just breathing,
sated, happy.

“Don’t quite have the stamina we used to,” House panted.

He could practically feel Wilson’s grin. “We'll work on it,” he said. “We have time.”

Good. Good.

Wilson turned and curled against House’s side. House put an arm around him with a light chuckle.
“Can’t stay here all night. The neighbors will talk.”

“They never liked me,” Wilson said, more to himself than to House.

“They never liked me,” House corrected. “You were just guilty by association.”

“That tends to be the trend.” He craned his neck to nip at House’s stubbled jaw. “Probably shouldn’t
have had all those late-night Xbox sessions whenever Julie was out of town.”

“You’re right. We should have been fucking instead.” He shoved Wilson off and eased himself into
a standing position.

“You’re not going to let that go anytime soon, are you?”

House turned to look at Wilson. Wilson sat cross-legged on the ground like a kid, damp hair
sticking up in all directions.

He smiled. “Nope. Guess you’re just going to have to make it up to me.”

Wilson smiled back and stood. “Guess so.” House retrieved his briefs and pulled them on. Wilson
slapped him on the ass. “Let’s go home.”

House grinned. Definitely off to a good start.