Work Text:
“Oh my god, are you dense or something?”
So,
“Oh, I’ll show you something dense-”
They were doing this again.
Wilson had been laying in bed in his boxers, waiting patiently— always so patient for them. They were supposed to be home an hour ago but the meeting with the attorney ran late and by the sounds of it, didn’t go well. Wilson heard Cuddy’s keys jingle loudly as she threw them down on the table by the door and then they entered the bedroom shortly after, still jabbing back and forth. He knew this was a tense night for them and told them to expect on-demand stress relief as soon as they got home. So he got ready and waited. And waited. and—
“Why can’t you take one thing seriously, House? Just one would be nice, so I know you’re at least capable of it.” Cuddy grouched as she entered the room and immediately pulled her top over her head, tossing it into the hamper and not even bothering to turn it out right. A very bad meeting, in that case. “All I ask of you is a couple of hours of acting like a mature human being so this hospital doesn’t go broke-” She leaned down as she shimmied her skirt down her legs and kissed Wilson hello, but without the hello part, holding his chin firmly as she brought his mouth up to meet hers quickly. “And you can’t even give me that?”
House rolled his eyes as his jeans hit the floor, his shirts following. “Please, this has nothing to do with what I’m giving you, or not giving you.”
“What is that supposed to mean?” Cuddy didn’t keep the high pitch of offense out of her tone as she dragged her stockings down her legs and then unclipped her bra, pulling it away and tossing them into the hamper too. House kicked his pile of laundry a foot to the right and promptly did not put it in the hamper, a move that would surely cause another fight later.
They do this sometimes, when they really, really can’t let work go and separate those worlds. As usual, Wilson gets sucked into the middle of it, as he always has when the lines between friend and lover and colleague blur to such an extreme. And ever since they started sleeping together, it’s not unusual for Wilson to literally be pinned in the middle of it, playing referee and bringing peace upon the nations using whatever orifice or extremity he needs to use to get the job done. Not that he's complaining about that part, not even a little.
House ignored her question and opted for sitting on the edge of the bed and then practically rolling himself on top of Wilson, kissing him with a long and satisfied hum to block out Cuddy's irritated muttering.
“Oh, no you don’t.” House’s body was suddenly pushed away and Wilson was reintroduced to the cold air prickling his mostly-naked skin. “You have had more than your fair share of fun today, you are not hogging him too.” Cuddy climbed into bed and pulled Wilson on top of her, kissing him and running her fingers through his hair before turning her head to face House and continuing their fight. “And that whole thing about you knowing he’s a nose picker because of the size of his thumb or whatever you tried to pull was just childish.”
Wilson went with whatever was presented to him, kissing her neck and jaw as she kept her face turned to keep arguing with House. He was just happy to have his skin pressed to hers after not getting to see much of either of them today.
“He called me incompetent! Incompetent , Cuddy!”
Her hand slithered down into Wilson’s boxers and found him half hard. He’d been fully hard earlier, but wilted after waiting an hour. She wouldn’t hold it against him, he did wait so patiently for them after all.
“Have you considered that if you acted with an ounce of competency, that people wouldn’t assume you’re incompetent?” She asked House as she stroked Wilson just the way he likes it, the way that leaves him mewling and humping into her hand after just a bit of that perfect squeeze and twist that she does. Wilson tucked his face into her neck and kissed at the delicate skin there, basking in the taste of salt and the still-lingering scent of her perfume.
“ Contradictio in terminis . People don’t assume based on information they’ve learned— that's an inference. They assume I’m incompetent because they don’t know me. When they meet me and then decide I’m incompetent, they’re just a dumbass.”
“Not if you’re not proving them wrong!” Cuddy huffed exasperatedly.
“So you’re saying I’m incompetent?” House asked as Wilson felt his boxers sliding down his hips and he adjusted his legs to allow them to be slipped all the way off.
Cuddy’s hand never stopped and his hips thrusted just slightly on the downstroke, seeking out more of that glorious friction. Her other hand was scratching up and down his back, nails tracing the curve of his spine all the way down before making their way back up to the back of his head.
Wilson trailed his kisses down to her chest, unsuccessful in distracting her but successful in making her arch into his mouth as he sucked her nipple greedily. She gasped and then snapped at House, “No, I’m saying you seem like it when you can’t put your pride away for two seconds to actually help me.”
“I’m not there to help you, I was there to help the patient.”
Help me!! Wilson whined in his head, sucking harder, his hips thrusting into her hand in search of more. As always, House read his mind, pressing a slick finger into him and being sloppy about it since he was already prepped before they got home. Wilson knew that meant House wasn’t in the mood to draw out the foreplay.
Neither of them seemed to be in that mood tonight as they adjusted Wilson between them so he was kneeling between Cuddy’s legs as she swiped the head of his cock over her wet slit, grinding her clit against it for just a bit as House got into position, kneeling behind Wilson and spreading him open. They continued to argue the whole time, even as House was admiring the way their sweet boy had already prepped himself before they got home.
“The problem is that-”
“Is that you don’t shut up?” Cuddy laughed. They were arguing over Wilson’s shoulder now.
“The problem—” House gritted as he began sinking onto him from behind. This pressed Wilson forward into Cuddy as she held his cock and tilted her hips to take him in. “-is that you think putting my pride aside will make things easier. You still think, after all this time, there's some deep rooted goodness in people that will make them go easy on you if only you show them your belly.”
“That is not true!” Cuddy half laughed and half moaned. “I didn’t get this far by being a pushover or being soft.”
“You got this far by playing people.” House thrusted hard and Wilson made a choked sound and whispered a curse. “You play to their weaknesses.”
“Do I?” Cuddy asked, already sounding out of breath as House fucked her through Wilson, using him as an extension of himself to fuck her. “Do tell.”
Wilson is sure House did tell, but he was too distracted by the intense pleasure caused by sinking into Cuddy as House was sinking into him, being completely pinned between them. He was so full and it was so wet and tight and hot and so much . Their banter had become background noise to the blood pounding in his ears and the sound of his own heavy breathing, hot and humid against the sensitive skin of Cuddy’s neck.
Distantly, there was a warm type of comfort from hearing their arguing and he’s positive that House would analyze him to death over it until he makes some grand diagnosis about how Wilson wants to crawl back into the womb. But thankfully House was too preoccupied with grunting out snarky comments about idiotic procedure and bureaucratic hypocrisy that he refuses to be a part of.
This argument isn’t anything new, it’s not even anything serious, which is why Wilson allows him to lose himself, just a little, just while they’re not paying attention to him. Eventually they’ll run out of steam and then tell Wilson what to do and he’ll do everything he’s told and listen to them sing his praises for it.
But for now, it almost feels like sneaking as he closes his eyes and thrusts his hips forward microscopically with House’s and thrusts them back the same, reveling in the stretch and the clench, the heat growing whiter and brighter behind his eyes with each one.
He’s melting, gooey sticky sugar dripping into the grates of a cooling rack, ice cream dripping down a cone, condensation on the outside of a glass, slipping down and down until a puddle is forming, wet and bubbly, expanding helium in his gut until he’s floating instead, ready to pop on their command. The only thing keeping him tethered to this earth is them, House’s hands on his hips, Cuddy's arms around him, hands sliding into his hair. He doesn’t even recognize his own voice anymore, something high and needy dripping syrupy filth from his tongue as he begs and begs and whines and whimpers.
He allowed himself to get so lost that he's forgotten that other people can hear him. At some point, House and Cuddy stopped arguing and started listening to him instead, reacting to him, fucking him rather than each other. Wilson was brought to this realization by Cuddy murmuring “Yeah? Right there, honey?” after Wilson let out a particularly loud moan in her ear. It’s the first time either one of them have outright spoken to him since they got home.
“No, no, don’t tense up now. You were taking it like such a good boy.” House murmured in his ear and suddenly Wilson was sprinting towards a finish line that he’d previously been doing a light jog towards. “That’s it, Jimmy. You were enjoying just being our toy, weren’t you? Go on, show us how much you like it.”
Wilson couldn't even give a genuine effort in holding back, he was riding too close now to stop. His eyes rolled back and his body jerked as he came hard, shuddering out their names and whimpering that it feels so good , “so so good please don't stop, don't ever stop please please please.” House took that opportunity to fuck him harder and faster, drilling Wilson into Cuddy over and over, not giving him a second of reprieve as that pleasure peaked, simmered, and then turned into oversensitivity. House was pounding him, but it was clear that he was intending to pound Cuddy.
Cuddy was gasping and growling, sinking her teeth into Wilson's shoulder hard enough to bruise and jamming her hips against his. But all that aggression was aimed for House, she made that clear as she stroked Wilson's hair and cooed, "You're such a g-good mediator, honey. Always getting in the middle— aH— of it and knowing just what we need to work it out. You're so— god, so useful.”
Wilson sobbed out a moan as his cock continued to twitch and throb inside her. They both know that's exactly what he wants, what he needs is to feel useful and needed. He needs to be in the middle of them, he always has, even before they brought him into their bed and made it official. He's always been their mediator, Cuddy's Cuddy when she needs it, the Voice of Reason.
Although they've found that his voice of reason is equally as effective when that reason is: “ fuck me, fuck me, fuck me!!”
House's vicious thrusts slowed gradually, a deep groan coming from his chest as he smacked Wilson's ass and moaned “God, he won't stop clenching. Fucking milking me dry over here.” House leaned his weight over Wilson's back, further pinning him between him and Cuddy and grinding him deeper into her.
“H-House—”
“Yeah, Jimmy? You got something insightful to say?” House teased, kissing his shoulder until Wilson's head dropped back into Cuddy's neck.
Surely he does, surely he can shove the fog of lust aside for a moment and say something worthwhile that'll put an end to their redundant arguing. He's trying to piece the words together, something about them hanging onto old arguments because they're still avoiding vulnerable conversations. He's so close to getting the words out but the grating oversensitivity between his legs is like wet cotton on his teeth and all he can do is make guttural animalistic kinds of sounds and twitch his hips in some desperate attempt to both pull away and bury himself deeper simultaneously. He hid his face in Cuddy's neck again, face hot with embarrassment at his sounds and lack of coherent words, whimpering broken pleas.
“What is it, honey?” Cuddy asks as Wilson makes an almost pained sound.
“Make it feel good again.” Comes out of him, small and whimpery and the request sends a flood of heat all the way through him.
Cuddy reached down and palmed at his mostly-soft cock where he slipped out of her. “Yeah? You want House to keep going so you can get nice and hard again?” She asked and Wilson nodded his head with a sniffle. Another flash of embarrassed heat soared through him because they've got him this close to tears after just one orgasm. “You heard the man.” She said to House sternly. “He said make it feel good, House. You think you can do that for him at least?”
Suddenly Wilson was hauled upwards and pulled against House's chest, his neck slathered in sloppy wet kisses and House's rough fingers slick as they travel down his sweat-damp torso. “I know exactly how to make him hard again.” He scooted back on the bed a bit, bringing Wilson with him before shoving him forward again where he landed right between Cuddy's knees. “If his cock can't be useful, I'm sure his mouth can be, right Jimmy?”
Wilson didn't even have to answer before two hands were in his hair, dragging his face to Cuddy's sopping wet pussy and pressing him into it until Cuddy arched her back and moaned as he latched onto her sensitive clit and sucked. House nudged his thighs apart, forcing Wilson's back to arch deeper until he was literally ass up in the air for him.
“And what do you mean can I do that for him? Are you saying I can't do that for you?” House asked, his tone defensive. “I don't make it feel good for you?”
Cuddy moaned and did her best to get a grasp on her words, a harder and harder feat when Wilson’s doing perfectly practiced rolls of his tongue over her clit. “You know I wasn't talking a-about sex. That seems to be the one place where you cAn always make it feel good.”
“Isn't that what really matters?” House asked, his smirk audible as he began sinking onto Wilson again.
“N-No! Not when where at w-work!”
“I’ve been telling you, one quickie after lunch and the rest of your day would go so much better.”
“It wouldn't go better— fuck, right there— I would just be r-riding an endorphin high and-”
“And therefore wouldn't be as bitchy by the time your last meeting of the day comes around.”
“I was only—mmm— bitchy because you— were being a jackass!”
House was gradually speeding up again as they shot jabs at each other, harder and faster until Wilson was barely able to do anything but pant heavily against Cuddy's inner thigh, trying to lap at her in between breaths. House was making sure each thrust knocked against his prostate and sent electric shocks of pleasure up and down his spine.
Wilson was too lost in the sensations to hear House laugh behind him and only knew it happened when Cuddy screeched, “Are you laughing about that?!”
Wilson shoved his face between her legs again and buried his tongue inside her, cleaning the salty mess he left behind and successfully turning her angry wails into pleasured ones.
This is what he's here for, to mediate, to put his mouth to good use so they can stop running theirs, to be needed.
“Look at that, already came once and now he's dripping again.” House marveled as he reached between Wilson's legs. Wilson immediately bucked into his hand, slippery and hot against his skin. “Should we let him cum? I mean, he hasn't even gotten you there once yet…”
Wilson whimpered and sped up his feasting tongue.
“Don't make him feel pressured. He's doing so good, isn't that right, baby?” She pulled Wilson up by the hair and he looked up at her with big eyes and his chin covered in their shared mess. “You're so good for us, Wilson. I want you to make me cum and then maybe if House is lucky, he can cum too.”
“Luck has nothing to do with it when you're buried in a tight little ass like this.” He groaned, slapping Wilson's ass and leaving a tingling red hand print behind. “I was just holding off for your pleasure.”
“Oh, please, don't hold yourself back on my account. Not like you ever have before.” She sniped.
“With pleasure.” House gritted back before setting another punishing pace. This time Wilson put all his effort into Cuddy's pleasure, fucking her with his tongue, letting the power of House's thrusts propel him forward into her as he licked and sucked and gave her absolutely everything he had.
“Good boy, god, such a good boy, Wilson. Right there, honey. Just like that.” Cuddy moaned, her chest heaving and her voice tightening until her moans were high and whiny, a tell tale sign that she's close. “Fuck, keep fucking him just like that, House. Fucking perfect.”
Perfect, Cuddy thinks I'm perfect! Rang through both men's heads. Despite all their flaws and all the arguments and the dysfunction that surrounds them— Cuddy still thinks they're perfect.
Cuddy's hand tightened in Wilson's hair and her toes curled, gasping for breath before her clit twitched against his tongue and she let out such a pretty moan. Neither man stopped for even a second, Wilson desperately lapping against her swollen clit and House desperately chasing his own orgasm.
Suddenly House reached down and took Wilson's cock in a vice grip before stroking him in choppy rough strokes. It was so much, the taste of Cuddy's cum on his tongue and the way House was nailing his prostate and now roughly stroking his oversensitive cock, demanding another orgasm from him without saying a word.
Wilson felt like it was going to burst from his chest as he let his face rest against Cuddy's thigh and rocked himself back into every thrust. The lines are all so blurred— friend, lover, colleagues, pain and pleasure, too much and not enough. All blurred by the overwhelmed tears spilling from his eyes and onto Cuddy's silky soft thighs.
But that's what he's here for, isn't it? He's not here to unblur the lines, not to sharpen them, but to erase them. It doesn't matter, none of it matters and the one thing House and Cuddy can always agree on is fucking Wilson until he makes those pretty sounds and tears are running down his cheeks.
Wilson desperately scrambled to hold one of Cuddy's hands. One of House's hands reached around his chest and held his pec, right over his rabbiting heart as he thrusted deep three more times and let out a long moan as he emptied himself inside of Wilson. Wilson felt a sizzle and a pop inside him, warmth soaking through his body as he tumbled through another orgasm. His cock twitched a dozen times and created a puddle under him.
The next argument will be about who changes the sheets. House will argue that it's Cuddy's bed, therefore she should be responsible and Cuddy will argue that house was responsible for the mess, so he should do it. Wilson will have them changed by the time they've argued their way from the bathroom to the bedroom and for that they'll tuck him in between them and the argument will come to end. For tonight, at least.