Chapter Text
House likes drugging Wilson. It shouldn’t come as a surprise, really. He loves messing with the man, trying to get all sorts of reactions out of him. Sometimes he’s boringly predictable (boo) and other times he pisses him off so much House gets to see an entirely new facet of him (yay). But something about Wilson slipping into unconsciousness just does it for him.
It’s quite predictable really, the 5 stages of “druggied wilson-ness” he goes through. First there’s the slurred speech, tripping over a sentence or a particularly large word. His mouth flabs around uselessly, his brain turning to mush by the second. Gosh, isn’t he just so adorable when that happens? (He’s half joking, by the way. House doesn’t dabble with words such as cute and adorable . Not seriously, anyway.)
Stage two is his utter confusion. He squints his eyes all cutely, his sluggish brain must be working overtime. His eyes turn hazy, his movements slow, and House just sits there trying to urge him to continue. Can’t let him get too suspicious yet, it’ll spoil the next step!
Then there’s his one moment of clarity. Dammit House drugged me again . Again, isn’t that such a wonderful word? Wilson must be used to it at this point, yet each and every time he acts shocked, surprised, appalled even. It’s an exciting kind of predictability. House dreads the day he stops reacting like this, it’s too good to lose.
Stage four is him getting angry, which well… it lasts all of two seconds anyway. House can take the brief verbal lashing and visual disappointment if it means seeing him pass out. That’s stage 5, if you’re wondering.
Oh, it’s glorious. The moment he gives in. Sometimes he tries really really hard to fight it but he knows it’d be safer to just let himself go. Mostly onto whatever surface he’s closest to, but sometimes into House’s hands or ,more importantly, House’s arms. The relaxation of his muscles as he becomes heavy in House’s grasp is… exhilarating. Honestly, something’s probably very wrong with him.
His face loses that annoyed look too, settling into a facsimile of a silent slumber. It’s peaceful and quiet and House thinks about how he could do anything to the man, and he’d be none the wiser. Okay, sometimes he’s drawn on his face or other similar childish pranks, but that doesn’t even begin to encompass all that he wants to do to him.
Now, there’s only one thing that stands in his way, and that’s getting his boyfriend- no, ugh, isn’t that word so juvenile? Partner. Sure, getting his partner to agree to… whatever this is. He’s not really in the mood to analyse it right now, Wilson does enough for the both of them and then some. Analysing feelings that is. House has got the medical side of things covered.
So that’s exactly what he does. He waits until Wilson gets home from work (usually they’d leave together but sometimes Wilson needs to tend to his little cueballs past curfew) before ambushing him. And by ambush he means “Hey Wilson what’s your opinion on me drugging you?”
Wilson doesn’t even freeze in the hallway, or do his wide eyed thing. He just shrugs off his coat, tired, stowing his bag somewhere before dumping himself unceremoniously onto the couch. House passed him some Chinese takeout, which he accepted gratefully. After a few chews he looked at House.
“Um, don’t really appreciate it most of the time. It’s whatever I guess,” Wilson replied before turning to look at the TV. House hadn’t even been paying attention to it, too wrapped up in his own thoughts. Some shitty serial drama, who cares. Made for nice background noise, though.
“Wait.” Wilson stopped eating, poking at his food suspiciously. “You didn’t put anything in the food, did you?” The younger eyed him suspiciously.
“What? No,” House countered. He’s not that stupid, is he? Why would House hint at his food being tampered with? Did he not learn from the many times he’d drugged him? “What kind of idiot outright states that they’ve drugged their victim’s food, Wilson?”
“You, apparently,” Wilson poked around some more, still not eating. House sighed exasperatedly before shoving a big forkful of Wilson’s food into his mouth and chewing aggressively. “Hey!”
“What? You weren’t gonna eat it otherwise. I didn’t do anything, I swear.” House gave him what he hoped was an earnest look.
Wilson gave in with a huff and began to scarf his food down, hungry as ever. They both watched the TV in comfortable silence before Wilson finally asked, “So where’s this coming from, anyway?”
“Carlson cheating on Miranda? Dunno, but I always knew that bitch Melanie was-”
“That’s not what I meant and you know it.” Damn, buzzkill. “Why did you suddenly bring up the topic of drugging me? Hell, why do you even care? You’ve certainly never asked before putting me under,”
“Maybe I’ve realised the error in my ways,” House retaliated, only semi sarcastically. Wilson gave him a look, unimpressed.
“Uhuh…”
“What, is that so unbelievable?”
“Yes.”
House just slouched angrily into the couch. Damn Wilson and his ability to turn each and every situation somewhat serious. The man knew he was onto something, he couldn’t exactly joke his way out of this one now.
“Well…?” Wilson urged, crossing his arms and looking right at him.
“It was a stupid question, whatever” House waved his hand, turning away. Drop it, Wilson, you’re clearly not into it.
Abruptly, he asked, “Is it a sex thing?” and House spluttered.
“ What? I mean, yes, no, I don’t know!” House finally accepted that Wilson was going to needle this out of him. Sit and talk like mature adults or whatever. God, he’s not even sure why he bought it up. Wasn’t House meant to be the one ambushing him?
Wilson sat in thought for a moment, squinting his eyes and tilting his head trying to work him out. “Is it the fact that I’m unconscious? Or is it all the stuff before that? Do you get off on the fact that I can’t do anything, or that you successfully drugged me, or-”
“I just said it wasn’t a sex thing!”
“You said ‘I don’t know’, which doesn’t-”
“Which is a perfectly reasonable answer!” House declared, shifting even further into his side of the sofa. Wilson ,unfortunately, did not seem to get the hint, and leaned in closer. House stuck his tongue out.
“Wow, very mature,” Wilson gave him yet another exasperated look, although there was just a sliver of fondness hidden in there somewhere. Gross, stop being so sappy, freak. “So why did you bring it up, unless you plan on doing something with it? You want to do more, don’t you? I know how you are.”
“Shuddup, stop acting like you’ve got me all figured out,” But alas, Wilson got this cheeky look in his eyes as he got prepared to tease House to hell and back. “Seriously, cut it out-” Wilson clambered onto his lap, wearing his shit eating grin. House just let him, barely putting up a fight, curse him for being so attractive. “Wilson-”
“Always knew all those times you doped me weren’t strictly innocent. Tell me, what would you do with me once I passed out? Something naughty, I presume?”
“It’s nothing like that, I never-”
“Okay, but if you could, what would you do? No repercussions whatsoever,”
House looked up at him in disbelief, “Do you even know what you’re saying right now?” Wilson just tilted his head, flashing an innocent look that House knew he should not trust. The younger man pressed harder against him, and House almost felt his eyeballs launch out of his sockets as he felt the telltale hardness against his stomach. “You’re into this,”
“Mhmm,” Wilson nodded like it was the most normal thing in the world, “Now tell me,” He leaned in closer, “What you’d wanna do with my senseless body, laying there all nice pliant for you. Would you take my mouth, come on my face?”
“Jesus, Wilson” House could feel his head reeling, Wilson was so close, over him, all around him, boxing him in. “You’re going to kill me…”
He had the audacity to do one of his girlish little giggles , before continuing, “Would you take me into your mouth? Work me up until I come? Is that what appeals to you? To see if I react at all?”
“Wilson…” House brought an arm up to cover his eyes, to give him some space. Really, he’d thought Wilson would be disgusted, or laugh, or drop the topic entirely. House almost would’ve preferred any of them over this slow, excruciating torture. Almost.
A hand grasped at his crotch, House gasped. “Someone likes the idea of that, hm?” Wilson teased, stroking up and down through the fabric. House bucked up into him, a keening noise falling out from his mouth. “I wonder if you’d go all the way, thrust into me. Would you finish inside me? Leave it in me to discover when I wake up? Is that what you want?”
“ Yes. ” House finally admitted. “Yes, please, god…” House had never wanted anything more. And Wilson was just handing it to him on a silver platter. Truly, life could not get much better than this.
“Mm, good boy, you got there in the end,” Wilson tugged his cock out as a reward, stroking it.
House scoffed, “Don’t patronise me,” And if his voice came out a pitch too high, no one has to know.
“Sure, sure want me to stop?” Wilson dragged both of their cocks together, enclosing them within one of his hands. House moaned loudly as the hand drove up and down, pausing momentarily to thumb at House’s slit.
“No, continue-” Another gasp escaped as Wilson licked his palm filthily, smirking at House before reaching down between them. “Wilson, ah-”
“Shh, let me do this,” he whispered before capturing his lips. It was passionate, full of desire. House opened his mouth willingly when he felt Wilson tongue push against his mouth incessantly. Said tongue invaded his mouth like he owned it, dragging all over.
“ Mmmph- ” House tried to hurry things along, mindlessly chasing relief. Wilson broke apart and tutted, continuing to work his hand back and forth. How could that bastard stay so infuriatingly composed? House felt like he was drowning, the only thing keeping him afloat being Wilson’s hands and his lips on his chin, jaw, neck, dragging lower and lower.
“Unbutton your shirt,” Wilson commanded, his other hand already snaking past his undershirt. House’s hands shakingly undid half the buttons before giving up and flinging both over his head. Wilson sucked and laved at every inch on the fresh expanse of skin, sucking a deep bruise near his collarbone. House whined.
“Go faster already- ngh- ” House thrust up his hips yet again, the slide of cock against cock making him delirious. The little minute twitches and Wilson’s hand holding them both together and Wilson’s face in between his neck and collarbone and oh, he should probably nag at Wilson for leaving a mark so high up. Eh, it’s what he had turtlenecks for anyway.
A cacophony of soft breaths and moans filled the room they both veered closer to the edge. Both of them rutted against each other, each chasing their own pleasure, their mouths smashed together in some semblance of a kiss. They practically panted into each other's mouths as Wilson gripped tighter and went faster, his hips never stopping. House grabbed onto an arm, the couch, whatever he could, just to hold on for the ride.
Surprisingly, Wilson came first, his release coating both of them and flowing over the back of his hand. He spread it all over House’s cock, not stopping his pace, even as pained overstimulated gasps came over him. “Come for me, baby, please ,”
With the filthy slide of their cocks against each other, and Wilson’s voice begging against his ear, it only took him a few more seconds to come undone as he gave in to hot white pleasure. He buried himself into Wilson’s shoulder, smothering his cries as he came embarrassingly loud. His lover trailed a hand up his neck and held him there, whispering sweet nothings as he came back down to reality.
“Oh… that was…” House muttered, disbelieving. Did they both really just get off on the thought of House drugging Wilson and taking advantage of him in his sleep? There’s no way, absolutely no way Wilson was into that. And even if he was, this was all it’d amount to, just daydreams and fantasies. He would never let House actually go through with it…would he?
“Yeah…” Wilson kissed him, softly, before pushing back to look at him, “How about you just do it one day when we’re both back from work, although perhaps not this late…” Wilson pressed his lips together adorably, trying to cobble together the pieces of this insane plan.
“Wouldn’t you want to know beforehand?” House questioned, still unbelieving of Wilson’s casualness
“It’s not like you asked me before all those other times. It’ll keep the surprise, keep it authentic,” Wilson joked, and House swatted his arm.
“At least 90% of those were for medical reasons or to stop you from being an idiot.”
“And the other 10%?”
“No comment.”
Wilson laughed again, kissing his cheek, “Well, we should probably do it over the weekend, take the day off work. I’m honestly fine with whatever method you wanna use to knock me out, I’m sure you’ve tried them all out at this point.”
House mumbled something incoherent, like how he doesn’t think he’s even begun to scratch the surface on all the ways one may dose their beloved, but that’s an argument for another time. “So you really don’t want me to tell you?”
Wilson thought a bit more, and then landed on “No. It’s more fun this way.”
“You’re unbelievable”
“ I’m not the one with a roofie kink”
“ Roofie k - shut up, Wilson.”
“You’re not beating those creepy old man stereotypes, huh?”
“Oh, shut it. I knew there was a reason you’d always let yourself get shitfaced in bars”
“That’s not even comparable!”
“Yuh uh”
“Nuh uh”
“Yuh-” Wilson kissed him again just to shut him up. Although the sensation of drying cum made both of them cringe a little.
“We should go wash up.”
House grumbled, sighed, then eventually relented. “Yeah”