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Wilson isn't sure why he agreed to this. Hell, he isn't sure why House agreed to this.
But here they are, with Cuddy and Stacy, at a secluded beach apartment for the weekend. Here he is, testing out the waters in their resort's private swimming pool.
"It's not that cold," he grumbles, wiping his wet hair out of his face. He'll stop shivering once the sun comes out from behind the clouds, he thinks miserably.
"Do a length," Stacy requests (commands?). "I want to see how deep it goes."
Sighing, Wilson pushes himself away from the wall and performs his best breast stroke. Once he's reached the other side, standing on his tiptoes barely enough to keep him afloat, he turns back and waves at the two women leaning against each other.
"Will someone please get in now?" he asks long-sufferingly. He wants to have fun, not just be watched.
"Maybe you could-" Cuddy begins, cut-off by a groan from Wilson. "What?"
"Listen, you may have hired me, but I am not your jester," he jokes. "Come join me or I'll find some women who can make this worth my time."
Ok. He did not mean it to sound like that. It just came out. Fuck, he's grateful his boss and her maybe-girlfriend have a sense of humour because he cannot keep embarrassing himself like this.
"Women such as...?" Stacy shoots back at him with a pointed look. Cuddy giggles.
"Hey!" Wilson shouts in indignation, jerking back against the pool edge. "Given the chance, plenty of women would be admiring-"
"And men." Cuddy adds smugly.
Wilson splutters, grateful he's tall enough not to be choking on the pool water as he struggles to come up with a casual enough reply to the accusation he's used to hearing too many times. That is, until he turns to see House has joined them. House, who's standing there with his sunglasses pushed back through his curled hair and too-long swimming trunks to hide his scar, staring mesmerised at Wilson in the pool.
Maybe Cuddy's comment was less a dig at him and more at House?
"Hey, House," he shouts in greeting, hoping to redirect both the conversation and that traitorously hopeful train of thought. "Come swim with me!"
Surprisingly, House joins him, whinging about how the women are cowards for not getting in yet. They swim a few laps together, and Wilson is reminded of when they would do this after the infarction. Swimming was good for House's leg, he recalled, the only physical therapy he'd willingly partake in. Wilson wonders why they ever stopped.
So what if he came home after every session and fucked Bonnie against the nearest piece of furniture? I missed you was his innocent explanation, something simple enough not to be questioned as every thrust was punctuated with thoughts of the tantalising droplets running down House's bare chest, the way his hair curled when it was damp, his firm grip on Wilson's bicep when his leg gave way underwater.
Not that Wilson is reminded of this now. Obviously not, he would never let his mind run such obscene scenarios while he was having fun with his friends, one of which being the subject of that particular fantasy. No, Wilson is a decent, honest man having 100% pure thoughts as he and House splash each other in a faux- water fight. And if his gaze lingers a little too long on House's dripping face, he's just calculating his next attack, that's all.
When they finally climb out the pool, Wilson notes House's eyes are shining. He hopes the swimming has helped his leg, and maybe even given him a chance to let his guard down around his friends.
On their way to the changing rooms, he gently nudges House's elbow. "Fun, wasn't it?"
House shrugs and makes a non-committal sound. Typical. Wilson being Wilson, he of course has to push it.
"How's your leg?"
"Fine," House mumbles, readjusting his grip on his cane, hand still slippery from the water.
"The swimming help?" Wilson asks, trying and failing to keep his tone casual. "Should get back into it again."
"I said it's fine, Wilson," House snaps and Wilson shuts his mouth. He wishes just once House would let him care. Just once.
But instead he just mumbles, "Okay," and they walk back the rest of the way in silence.
They say goodbye to Cuddy and Stacy when they arrive, as the women turn left while they turn right into the men's where they left their clothes earlier.
"They've opened a new pool not too far from your place," Wilson says quietly, cursing himself as soon as the words leave his lips but he just can't stop, not when it comes to House. "It'd be closer than the old one."
"Drop it," House says, a note of warning in his tone.
"I just think-" Wilson begins, and he's promptly cut off by House crowding him back into the tiled wall behind.
"Just think what, Wilson?" House snarls, roughly shoving him back. "That this'll magically fix my leg? That it'll just be like old times?" He'd be lying if he said he didn't miss seeing what Wilson kept under those unflattering button-downs, but that is besides the point, he is definitely not thinking about licking the remaining drops of water off of Wilson's skin right now- "It's temporary, it doesn't fix anything!"
He's breathing harshly, standing way too close to his best friend in an overly large, overly empty changing room. And Wilson looks like he's not even listening to what House is saying, eyes darting between House's lips, his chest, his arm resting against the wall beside Wilson's head. House glances down to confirm his diagnosis and yep, Wilson's swim trunks are tented.
He really is that easy, huh?
Unwilling to waste another second, House dives forward and kisses Wilson roughly, biting at his lower lip. Wilson immediately responds, moaning into it and clutching at the wet skin of House's back to pull him impossibly closer. House shoves impatient hands up Wilson's torso, mapping out the planes of his warm, pliant flesh that were always forbidden until now. Until now, when Wilson is scratching nails down his back, leaving enough red lines that he won't be able to go swimming in front of their friends tomorrow. Until now, when Wilson is making soft noises into his mouth and tugging at his hair like he's never wanted anything more.
They break apart panting desperately, and House uses the opportunity to press his lips down Wilson's neck, murmuring how he'll clean him himself with just his tongue. Wilson moans and pulls a little harder at House's hair, chanting yesyesyes under his breath. When House resurfaces to kiss him once more, he grinds his hips against Wilson's in time with his tongue in his mouth and score. Wilson paws impatiently at House's trunks - an advantage of fucking after swimming is how little clothing is involved, he thinks deliciously - pushing them down, down, down, until he can wrap an eager hand around House's aching length.
House thinks he would rather die than be the only one with his dick out, so he manhandles Wilson's trunks down too, and Wilson must like that, because he's moaning again before House has even done anything else with his hands. He figures his hand is still damp enough from the water and running his hands over Wilson's wet body, so reaches down to give him a firm stroke.
"House," Wilson breathes, head thrown back temptingly against the wall and fuck, if only House had got him like this in those changing rooms all those years ago. If all his remaining consciousness wasn't currently occupied, he'd be able to make a note that Wilson's ex-wives really weren't lying when they said he was a selfless lover, because no matter how succumbed to the throes of pleasure he seems, thrown back against the wall and whining, his hand never once stops moving up and down House's throbbing cock.
"Mm, you feel so good, Jimmy," he mumbles, smearing wet kisses over the exposed skin of Wilson's neck. "So good for me." House uses his free hand to grab Wilson's hip and move it in a push-pull motion until Wilson gets the memo and starts properly fucking his fist. "Would've had you like this before," he muses, sucking a mark over his Adam's apple, secretly excited to see just how far Wilson will go - or maybe not go? - to cover it up later. "Maybe I'll go to that new pool of yours just to have you like this again."
"God, yes," Wilson pants, arching closer as his cock spurts a dribble of precome at the suggestion. House uses it to ease the glide of his hand until Wilson has the bright idea of taking both their cocks in his hand, and it might be the closest either of them have ever come to heaven.
House wraps his hand around Jimmy's, guiding it faster, tighter, around them as they hurtle closer to the edge. He seeks out Wilson's lips again in a messy approximation of a kiss as heat pools low in his stomach.
"Not gonna-" he pants into Wilson's mouth, desperately bucking his hips into their clumsy hands- "Not gonna last long."
"Neither," Wilson gasps, twisting his wrist on the upstroke, and House is really going to have to question who the hell else he's gotten off like that. "T-Talk to me."
"Oh, you like that, huh?" House murmurs lowly, leaning around to bite at Wilson's ear. "You want me to tell you you're doing good?" Wilson moans loudly, and House almost wishes they weren't alone in the changing room so someone else could see just how desperate Wilson was for him. "Because you are, you're doing so good for me, baby."
Whether it's the praise or the nickname or complete chance, that statement is punctuated by Wilson spilling all over their fingers, the prettiest sound House has ever heard escaping his throat. He grips tightly at House's hair, overwhelmed, wanting, as his orgasm washes over him, and the pure possessive need has House tipping over the edge too.
"Fuck," Wilson mutters, breathless.
"Not quite," House combats, and they're both giggling while trying to catch their breaths, and yeah, he could get used to this.
Then Wilson leans forward to kiss him again, messy, slow, tasting of a painfully sweet afterglow, and yeah, he could get used to this too.
And when they turn up back at the apartment an hour late, and Wilson smoothly explains to their friends there was this whole plumbing issue with the showers, House thinks he doesn't want to get used to anything but this. And when Wilson sneaks into House's room that night and crawls into his arms, he's thinking the same thing.
They check out the new pool the next week.