The House Fan Fiction Archive

 

The One Where There Are Three Of Them


by leiascully


House dropped by Wilson's office one day. "Threesome. Tonight."

"Tonight?" Wilson's voice went high in a way that House once would have found unattractive, but now just found entertaining. Wilson's normal voice these days was a rich alto, but he shrieked like a soprano in bed. Not that they'd ever been in a bed, per se, but there was metaphor involved. "Cameron and I have a thing."

"Actually, Cameron's got patient duty," said House, smirking and adjusting his bra. "Tragic, isn't it? Whatever will you do?"

"I shouldn't," Wilson frowned, his lips pouting out. House passed a lazy hand over his breast, remembering Wilson's lips against his skin mere hours ago.

"You're not married yet and you're already fucking me on the side," he pointed out. "Why not fuck me and Cuddy? Let me tell you, she's got a mouth on her."

Wilson sighed. "I imagine she does. But I don't think Cameron's up for the foursome."

House rolled his eyes. "I already told you, Cameron's busy. And tonight's just a threesome, although now that you mention it, I bet Chase has some interesting gadgets left over from his S&M days. Maybe if we ask nicely, he'll bring them along."

"I'm not sleeping with Chase!" Wilson protested, blushing. "I'm in enough trouble already!"

"For what? Theoretically sleeping with me and Cuddy? Don't worry, I won't really invite Chase. And you shouldn't let Cameron boss you around now that you're the little woman. You need to reconceptualize your notion of feminism," said House. "I'll see you at eight."

"I don't even know what that means!" Wilson shouted after him, but House was satisfied. Wilson would be there. Plus, it was a nice day, lots of sunshine and cool breezes that blew his skirt around when he went out on the balcony, and the constant afterglow took the edge off the ache in his thigh. He hadn't taken more than two Vicodin a day for a week. He whistled "The Lady Is A Tramp" as he limped back to the conference room, trying to put as much of a wiggle in his walk as his leg would allow. Damn Foreman and those ridiculous shoes. House envied that walk, even if he thought Foreman had been getting fashion advice from Petra Gilmore. Chase had some legs on him too, and that perfect mouth. House paused to look through the window at his Fellows (Ladies, he thought, amused): Foreman was leaning over the table, showing off tits and ass and legs all at once, and Chase was sucking on a pencil. Cameron was sitting with her legs apart, trying to subtly adjust. Chase tipped his head back with that expression that tried to be thoughtful but just ended up looking orgasmic, and House shivered. He turned on his heel and went toward the elevators, his skirt suddenly feeling too confining and his bra itching to be undone. Cuddy didn't have any meetings, but she did have a brand new pack of condoms. Maybe after that he'd be able to concentrate on diagnostics.

No wonder they hadn't seen a lot of patients recently.

+ + + +

"Wilson's coming over tonight," he said, basking in post-coital glow on Cuddy's office couch, watching her with an appreciative eye as she wiped herself down and pulled her clothes back on. Cuddy made a hell of a man, slender but nicely-muscled. House dragged a hand down her thighs as she went past on her way to the trash can.

"Oh yeah?" Cuddy said in her new baritone, which House also appreciated. "Is he cooking, or is this just a sex thing?"

"I bet if we buy groceries, we can guilt him into cooking," House said. He kind of wanted a cigarette. He settled for twirling his hair around his finger. "Can we have pancakes for dinner?"

"I don't know about you," Cuddy said, "but I'm going to need some protein. All this ejaculating takes it out of me. Can we have steak?"

"Steak and pancakes," said House, sitting up. "Perfect."

"God, you're such a woman," Cuddy muttered.

"You know it, lady," House said haughtily, getting up. "And you love it."

"Go back to work," she murmured, stepping suddenly close to him and dragging her mouth up the side of his throat to nip at the underside of his chin. "If you can actually get any work done."

"Is that a bet?"

"If you want it to be," she said, her hand inside his shirt, squeezing his breast. "I'll wager you three orgasms your team won't have gotten anything finished by the end of tomorrow."

"Didn't I..." he trailed off as she nuzzled at his ear. "Didn't I tell you that I prefer bets that result in instant gratification?"

"Better this way," she said, her lips grazing his earlobe. "Heightens the anticipation. You clearly haven't been a woman long enough."

House untangled himself from her, only slightly hampered by the way he was arching his breast into her palm and the fact that he had his hands down her pants grabbing her ass. "I am going back to work now. I will see you later."

She smacked his ass as he tried to walk out with dignity.

+ + + +

Wilson showed up prompt and guilty, wearing a wraparound shirt and a skirt that House thought Cameron had picked out. "We've got guests!" House sang out to Cuddy, who was sitting on the couch reading a study in JAMA. "And he looks ready to make pancakes."

"Hey, Wilson," said Cuddy without looking up. "I've got steaks marinating."

"I should go home," said Wilson, standing in the doorway, and House slipped an arm around his waist and pulled him inside and closed the door.

"Don't start pretending you're into fidelity," he said. "Did you hear her? We've got steaks."

"It's really strange how you're still men under all those curves," Cuddy mused, turning a page in the journal.

"Ignore her," House murmured to Wilson, "she thinks she's the cockmaster now. Good thing chocolate's still her kryptonite. And she always wants to watch the sappy movies. Why don't you slip into the kitchen and start up the grill? Assuage that guilt with the sweet, sweet smell of charring meat. I like mine medium-rare."

"I thought you wanted pancakes," said Wilson helplessly.

"They can be dessert," House said, both hands on Wilson's ass as he pushed Wilson toward the kitchen. "Go! Go!"

"Just because I'm a woman doesn't mean I'm your bitch now!" said Wilson, indignant.

"Please," Cuddy scoffed, "not that much has changed." House limped over and dropped onto the couch beside her, taking the journal out of her hands and throwing it onto the table. She slid her hand up his leg, rumpling the skirt over his scar, and he leaned in and kissed her lingeringly. "All right," she allowed when she broke away, "some things have changed. When did you turn into such a ray of sunshine?"

"Don't tell anyone," House said into her ear, "but ten orgasms a day keeps the endorphins at critical mass, which overwhelms even the most practiced misanthropy. And now that I'm a woman, it only takes fifteen minutes."

"You are ridiculous," she said, and let him put his hand down her pants. When Wilson came in with the steaks, they were half-dressed, House's bra straps sliding off his shoulder and Cuddy's pants undone.

"I made these and you're going to eat them," said Wilson loudly, putting the plates down so that House feared for his place settings. "And then we are going to bed, so that I can get home at a reasonable hour."

"I told you," said House, detaching from Cuddy but not bothering to arrange his clothing. "Cameron's on night duty. You've got nothing to worry about. And anyway, we've got precedent."

Wilson propped his hands on his pretty hips. House eyed him appreciatively. Pissed-off Wilson was more attractive as a woman than he had been as a man. The heaving breasts helped, and the pout was nicer. "We have precedent?"

"You fucked him before you fucked Cameron," Cuddy said, stroking House's breast. "Precedent. God, how did you deal with being men? I'm so horny all the time."

"I like that part," House said. "Anyway, we're still men. Just a new and different kind of men. Let's eat before he gets all bitchy again. Or maybe I should say she, given what a woman he's become. Is it that time of the month, Wilson?"

"Oh, God," said Wilson, sitting down and balancing a plate on his knees. "I don't even want to think about that happening. Let's not talk about it."

There was peace for a minute as House and Cuddy reached for plates and sliced into steak and potatoes. "Mmmm," said House. "Bloody, just the way I like it. Hey, do you think...."

"Shut up, I said," Wilson growled, threatening House with his knife. "Just eat so we can go to bed."

"Bossy," said House to Cuddy. "Just like you. Looks like Wilson finally found his balls. Maybe he keeps them in his bra."

"If you don't shut up, he's not going to show us what he keeps in his bra," Cuddy admonished, softening the reprimand by nuzzling House's neck.

"Fine," said House with a long-suffering sigh, bolting a piece of steak. "Bet you I'm finished first."

"You are such a man," said Cuddy, tossing her head as if she still had hair.

"And yet, the balls are yours," said House. "These days."

"They always were," Cuddy smirked, and ate the last bite of her steak. "I win. What's my prize?"

"You get to sleep with the two most desirable women in the hospital," said House, glancing at Wilson. "Isn't that right, Wilson?"

"Oh," said Cuddy, "you should have told me that you invited Chase and Foreman."

"Very funny," said Wilson, fussily cutting his last few bits of steak into smaller pieces. "What do you think, House? What should she suffer for that crack? Does she know the joys of blue balls?"

"I'll play nice," said Cuddy hastily.

"Damn right you will," House growled. "Wilson! To the bedroom!"

+ + + +

The hormone rush was like being a teenager again, House thought, though it was great that they didn't have to go through adolescence again with all new awkward bodies. He and Cuddy and Wilson were fumbling each other's clothes off, mouths and hands everywhere without regard. Cuddy's stubble scraped across his breast as he reached for Wilson's clit. Wilson moaned and Cuddy groaned and it was delicious to be in the middle of all that skin. They wrestled each other into bed and House stretched across to the bedside table for a vibrator and condoms. He ripped open the packet and sheathed the toy in latex as Cuddy and Wilson writhed, trying to touch as many places as they could, apparently. House handed Cuddy a condom and slid over her to lie next to Wilson. Wilson rubbed his cheek down House's chest and reached for a nipple with lips and tongue, and House drew his fingers along Wilson's damp folds.

"Told you this was a good idea," House murmured, and parted Wilson's folds with two fingers before slipping the toy in and turning it on. Wilson yelped, his head flying back.

"Fuck!" he said inarticulately as House thrust the vibrator into him, reaching for the G-spot with the tip. House grinned as Cuddy pressed up behind him, pushing his leg over Wilson's so that she could enter him from behind. Cuddy put her teeth into House's shoulder and thrust shallowly into him, her hand wandering over his hip to find his clit.

"What," said House, his breathing getting a little ragged. "Wilson, you don't have one of these? Or three?"

"Oh, God, don't you ever shut up?" Wilson panted, and crushed his mouth against House's, his hands on Cuddy's shoulders pulling her closer. And the three of them were one hot, writhing mass, bodies moving in sync, rubbing in all the right places, and House thought he was going blind with how good it all felt, because he couldn't seem to focus on anything. Cuddy's breath was like fire on the back of his neck and her cock hit all the right spots. He wanted to reach back and cup her balls, but he was still working on fucking Wilson with the vibrator, and Wilson seemed to have a good hand on the situation anyway, the way Cuddy was groaning. House turned up the speed on the vibrator and worked it faster in and out of Wilson as Wilson reached with his free hand to touch his own clit.

"Come on," House murmured encouragingly as Wilson started breathing so hard that House was afraid he'd hyperventilate. It was hard to concentrate with Cuddy sucking on his neck and Cuddy's exquisite cock moving inside him, but he tried hard to focus on Wilson's flushed face. "Come on, Wilson."

Wilson screwed up his mouth, tipped his head back, and came so hard that the contractions of his inner muscles nearly dislodged the vibrator from House's grasp. "Holy fuck!" he said, and sagged against the pillows.

"That's right, baby," House said, pausing for a moment, letting Wilson ride it out. When Wilson blew out a deep breath, House pressed the vibrator back into him, and Wilson's back arched and arched and he came again, gasping.

"Come back to me," said Cuddy, the nape of House's neck between her teeth. "Two's probably all he can handle for now. Look at him. He's limp." House turned off the toy but left it in Wilson as Wilson sprawled over the pillows, panting, his nipples pointing determinedly at the ceiling. House ground his ass against Cuddy's groin, driving her deeper and deeper into him, and Wilson moved one languid hand to rub alternately at House's clit and breasts. House reached back to caress Cuddy's thigh and she hooked her leg over his hip so that he could touch her balls and the skin behind them. Without distractions, House felt the pleasure slam into him, like walking out of an air-conditioned room into full summer. It was hot in the room and now that he could focus on the pressure and friction of Cuddy's cock rubbing inside him and the dance of her fingers and Wilson's, the combination of sensations was almost unbearable. Wilson dragged the vibrator out of himself and rolled over to suck at House's breast and there was so much skin and so many points of contact and it all felt so good that House was about to explode. And then Cuddy growled and thrust even deeper into him, and Wilson started to use the edges of his teeth on House's nipple and that was it, that was all, House was dropping through open air, dragged back to reality by an elastic series of pleasurable ripples, like the better version of bungee jumping. He moaned, Cuddy surging into him, fucking him through his orgasm, and he kneaded his fingertips behind her balls in that spot that always brought her off, and she grunted and came.

"Oooh," she said shakily, pulling out of him and rolling onto her back. "That was good."

"I don't understand why we didn't do this all the time," said Wilson, passing his hand idly over his breasts and stomach.

"Not enough holes before," said House. "Not enough breasts, either."

"My breasts were worth two pair," said Cuddy, reaching for the tissues to clean herself up.

"True," said House, and dug the vibrator out of the covers and handed it to her. "But you weren't really into sharing."

Wilson groaned. "Speaking of sharing, I should get home."

"Cameron's on duty tonight, I told you," said House, stroking Cuddy's hip. "What, have you got an internet date or something?"

"Phone," said Wilson, blushing and rolling off the bed. He picked up his clothes as House scoffed.

"That is so high school," he said. "All this 'I wuv you' crap."

"Actually," said Wilson, stepping into his panties and skirt together in a kind of cool move House wished he could master. "It's kind of a phone sex date."

"Insatiable," House said to Cuddy.

"Shut up," she said, tossing the wad of condoms and tissues into the trash and rolling herself into the covers. "I'm asleep."

"Women," said House, watching Wilson get dressed. "She never wants to cuddle anymore."

"You'll get no sympathy from me," said Wilson, straightening his top. "I'll see you tomorrow."

"Night, Wilson," said the heap of blankets that was Cuddy.

"Good night," Wilson said. "I'll let myself out."

House grinned and flopped down on the bed. Life was good. Except that Wilson hadn't actually made pancakes.

"That clever bastard," House mumbled to himself, curled around Cuddy, and fell asleep.

  Please post a comment on this story.



Legal Disclaimer: The authors published here make no claims on the ownership of Dr. Gregory House and the other fictional residents of Princeton-Plainsboro Teaching Hospital. Like the television show House (and quite possibly Dr. Wilson's pocket protector), they are the property of NBC/Universal, David Shore and undoubtedly other individuals of whom I am only peripherally aware. The fan fiction authors published here receive no monetary benefit from their work and intend no copyright infringement nor slight to the actual owners. We love the characters and we love the show, otherwise we wouldn't be here.