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2024-02-09
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the effects of really good sex

Summary:

Orgasms, specifically orgasms from Wilson, seem to do something to House. Wilson prides himself on turning House’s overworking, always scheming mind off and just reducing him to a puddle of liquid pleasure for a precious hour. And now, House is boneless and thoughtless and soft, his eyes closed and his breathing peaceful.

or

what happens when house gets some good sex from his loving husband

Notes:

(See the end of the work for notes.)

Work Text:

Wilson is lying on his back in bed, breathing heavily as he recovers from a truly spectacular orgasm.

 

Beside him, House is in the same state. Wilson is a doctor, of course he knows what good orgasms can do for the body’s health. Improves blood flow, sleep, mood, relieves pain, clears the skin, etc. Indeed, right now, Wilson is warm from head to toe, not a stressful thought in his head or painful ache in his middle aged body. Nothing but a warm contentment has spread through his veins.

 

But orgasms, specifically orgasms from Wilson, seem to do something to House. Wilson prides himself on turning House’s overworking, always scheming mind off and just reducing him to a puddle of liquid pleasure for a precious hour. And now, House is boneless and thoughtless and soft, his eyes closed and his breathing peaceful. The age and all traces of pain are removed from his face in these few precious moments. Wilson’s heart lurches.

 

He’s just grateful he can provide this. Give House what he needs, no matter if House would mock him for it.

 

Wilson wonders if House’s fellows would ever believe him if they knew what kind of a man he becomes in these soft moments. How vulnerable he lets himself be. Everyone would think, rightly so, that House is rough and abrasive and loud during sex, in charge, blocking out all hints of feelings or softness, but it’s just the opposite.

 

No matter how long they’ve been married, Wilson treasures each time House lets him in, lets him see, lets him know just how Wilson makes him feel. 

 

“You good? How’s your leg?” Wilson murmurs when House hasn’t said anything in over a minute. It’s not uncommon for him to go silent after a good round, but usually he’s gotten his quips and his insults back by now. At the very least, a comment about his rating out of ten. “House?”

 

“Fine.” House mumbles, just quiet enough for plausible deniability, “Just what the doctor ordered.” 

 

Wilson kisses the top of House’s head, relishing these rare moments when he gets to be as affectionate as he wants. “I’ll be right back.”

 

House mutters something unintelligible. Wilson smiles to himself and makes the monumental effort’s walk to the bathroom. He brings House back his pills and a glass of water, but House shoos away the former and downs the latter. Wilson stares.

 

It’s an impossibility. It’s illogical. It’s—it’s not something Wilson wants to use his afterglow free pass on. He pulls the blankets over them both and uses his pass on dragging House close, trying to ignore just how silent House has gone.

 

#

 

Wilson—for lack of a better word—drops House off at his office door the next morning after riding in together, mostly so he can make sure House will be reasonably occupied for a while. House’s fellows and Wilson have a working relationship about managing House so that they can both get some work done without breaking too many laws.

 

House is just as argument free and soft as he was last night. It’s been keeping Wilson suspicious all morning. At least he saw House take his morning pill—if he didn’t, Wilson might’ve had to call in the FBI to report a national conspiracy. Still, House is being surprisingly complacent and reasonable. Ever since they finished last night.

 

“Can I leave you alone for two hours?” Wilson asks in a tone of voice he means to sound pained, but ends up being fond. “Can I trust you that long?”

 

“Sure thing, honey!” House replies, far too chipper to be trusted. Still, Wilson doesn’t have time to worry about what tricks lie up his sleeve. 

 

Foreman jerks his chin toward the hickeys House has along his collar, almost as if he’s proudly displaying them. “You should see the other guy,” House says with cartoon smugness.

 

Foreman smiles patiently. “Good night last night?”

 

“Yes, thank you,” House says with an exaggerated smile. He seats himself with the air of a king, or a cat who just got the cream. “Are we going to dwell on my sex life, or are we going to discuss the dying patient?”

 

Wilson deems it safe to slip away. He manages to get a solid few hours of paperwork done as well as his morning rounds and unsnafu his first hiccup of the day before someone comes calling.

 

It’s Cameron. “Dr. Wilson,” she begins, having blessedly knocked, “House has been, dare I say it, almost human all day. He’s been nice. Cuddy looked at him like he'd grown a second head when he agreed to do his clinic hours with only one argument. He's the talk of the hospital. We’re just wondering—how did you do it? How did you accomplish such a thing? I mean, everyone knows you’re the House whisperer, but this is a feat.”

 

Wilson smiles, strained. He’s honestly surprised House hasn’t been parading the knowledge around. “Not sure you want the gory details.”

 

She smiles and nods, embarrassed and a bit ashamed, walking back out the way she came. “Keep up the good work,” she says sheepishly, shutting the door.

 

It’s another hour before House slams open the door of Wilson’s office with that familiar look of determination on his face. The sound used to startle Wilson, but he grew desensitized to it long ago. It’s always amusing to watch the interns jump. “Can you give me a repeat performance?”

 

Wilson puts down his pen, knowing he won’t get any work done for the next five minutes, or until House is satisfied with whatever little game he wants to play. “Of?”

 

House doesn’t look at the floor, doesn’t quite mumble, but both are close. “Last night. Leg hurts. Pill’s not cutting it. Need endorphins.”

 

Wilson smiles. He doesn’t usually approve of having sex at work—at least, in principle—but he can sacrifice those principles this once because of the warmth on House’s face, the softness of his tone. “Sure. Nice of you to ask instead of simply demanding—”

 

House rolls his eyes. “Of course you’re willing, what I meant was are you capable of giving it that good a second time.” He limps closer, perching on the edge of Wilson’s desk and leaning down. Wilson doesn’t flinch back.

 

House continues, “I need to be ravished. Railed. Plowed. Figuratively and maybe literally bent in half. Gives me a killer orgasm that takes away the pain au naturale. Given that you’re a doctor, deeply concerned with the pain of humans, it’s your ethical obligation to do this to me. And I know how hot and bothered you get for ethical obligations. And for…need.” House spits it out like it’s the name of a rodent.

 

The tension in the air is thick. Wilson licks his lips, looking at the triangle of chest House has revealed. It’s frankly obscene, the number of buttons he gets away with undoing. Should be illegal. His hair is messed up, the way it was last night due to Wilson's hands. The memory makes Wilson swallow, straightening in his chair.

 

“My eyes are up here.” Contradictory to this, House leans further down, making it harder for Wilson to focus. He blinks and drags his eyes up to House’s face, and then his thoughts flood back in.

 

Wilson smirks. “Challenging me means you want me to bring my A game. Give it all I’ve got. Means that I really was that good last night.”

 

House rolls his eyes. “Would you shut up?” He leans down and cups Wilson’s cheek, kissing him hard with the clear intent to erase all thoughts from Wilson’s head except thoughts of him.

 

Wilson smiles into it. If he can be the reason House is relatively pain free and happy, he’ll gladly risk getting caught by not locking his office door before ravishing his husband at work.

Notes:

inspired by the many conversations liass-21 and i have had about how normal house would be if he just got fucked by his husband already. if he and wilson just fucked nasty, house would 1000% walk into work with the goofiest smile on his face afterward. gayass that he is
further sources im citing: when cuddy grabbed his dick in front of god and wilson and everybody and house just smiled, smitten, and said she helped his limp. like ok shameless whore
yell at me on tumblr @hawksredrobe !!! i am houseposting all the time