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Vicodin and Scotch	By : Brynna Category: G through L > House Views: 1350 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own the television series that this fanfiction is written for, nor any of the characters from it. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.

Chapter List
- 1-Vicodin and Scotch
- 1
This little one-shot is a sequel to two fics written by Enlee at http://www.fanfiction.net/u/934606/. You will need to read "A Bit of Detective Work," then "Lunch With A Badge" before reading this sequel. I obtained the author's gracious permission to sequel her work and so I have. It's PWP - literally Porn Without Plot - and has no redeeming value at all.

With thanks always, always to my beta-reader, TrinityWildcat, forever patient and a fabulous author in her own right.

Disclaimer: I do not own, put a claim on, or even pretend to be the creators and owners of the Law and Order: Criminal Intent and House MD characters presented herein, Robert Goren and Gregory House. Damn! Imagine the possibilities if I did! The two would be forever Sex Gods, with us females (or males, if that's your inclination) ready, willing and able to be at their mercy. Heh. ;-)

It wasn't the combination of Vicodin and Scotch, he decided in an effort to diagnose the warmth flushing his features. He hadn't consumed enough for the alcohol to affect him. Of course, there was no denying that the big man sitting next to him at one corner of the bar was getting into his personal space perhaps more closely than normal. From what he could tell, the other man had a habit of doing that anyway.
So why were his cheeks so flushed? He stole a sideways glance at his companion, taking in a sharp breath at the sleepy...was that seductive? he wondered frantically, look on his face.
Bobby Goren merely grinned and had a healthy swig of his Scotch, then beckoned to the bartender for a refill. At House's questioning look he said, "I took a cab."
"Drink on." House was more discreet with his drink. He wanted to get the �Vette home in one piece. Or get one piece in the �Vette. The glass froze midway to his lips as he considered the thought of Goren and him in the backseat, steaming up the windows, warm masculine hands and skin and... You idiot, he interrupted himself. You keep thinking along those lines and pretty soon you'll embarrass both of you.
"I gotta stay sober," he admitted out loud. "Drove the �Vette."
Rapidly Goren came to life, the sleepy look gone from his features. "What year?" he asked eagerly, his eyes lighting up. Oh, a fellow car fiend, House thought, letting a slight smile cross his features.
"1965 cherry red convertible." Goren's eyes fairly dilated as a thought occurred to House. "Wanna go for a ride?"
"Hell yeah." Goren tossed a bill at the bartender for a tip and reached for his leather jacket as House stood up and did the same. One step down, who knows how many to go, House thought as he led his friend outside and across the street to the parking garage.
Odd how one sprained ankle could lead into possibilities, he thought as he stole sideways glances at Goren. From sprained ankle to lunch in Princeton, then drinks in Manhattan; nice slow progression, just the way House preferred it. The other man was almost drooling over the car, fiddling with the dashboard, grinning when House lightly smacked his fingers.
"Stop that," he admonished, repressing a groan when Goren chuckled. "No playing with my chick magnet."
"'Chick magnet?'" Goren's brows shot up and he slanted a grin at House. "So it's chicks you're trying to attract, huh? Coulda fooled me." His hand came to rest on House's knee, causing him to swallow. Hard. "Sure this is just a �chick magnet,' Greg?" The last came out in a silky, seductive tone that shot straight to House's groin.
"Dammit, Goren," House growled out, doing his best to ignore the slow path Goren was taking with those long fingers of his. "I'm trying to drive here."
"Then stop."
"In the middle of the fucking road."
"My apartment."
No sooner had the apartment door shut behind the two then they were at each other. Goren pushed House up against the foyer wall and slammed his mouth down on the other man's, causing them both to groan. House shoved back, his arms firmly around Goren's waist, cane jabbing into his back, teeth nibbling at the other's bottom lip. Before long, it was two alpha males struggling for control of the embrace, tongues tangling heatedly, hands grasping, tugging, pulling.
Finally Goren lifted his head, his lips swollen, whisker-burned; his eyes heavy-lidded with arousal. "This could get interesting," he muttered, raking his thumb along House's bottom lip before letting his tongue snake out to flicker across the other man's mouth.
"What? You like to be in charge?" House laid his hand across the bulge in Goren's jeans, grinning when he shut his eyes.
"Yeah." Those elegant fingers reached for the hem of House's tee shirt and yanked up, exposing the lean muscles lightly dusted with hair. "Uhmmm, nice," Goren muttered, bending his head to nuzzle one nipple. He chuckled at House's resulting groan, drawing the flat disk into his mouth and nipping at it. Slowly he began nibbling and licking his way down, only to be stopped by House's fingers when his tongue reached the waistband of the other man's jeans.
"I won't... won't be able to hold myself up if you..." House gasped out when Goren leisurely unzipped his fly. "Leg not... strong... enough." To his relief Goren rose to his feet, his expression suddenly concerned as he pulled House to him again. Those strong hands passed over House's face, then held him in place for another long kiss that left both men moaning.
"Bed? Before I start devouring you again?" Goren's eyes twinkled with mischief.
"Yeah."
He let Bobby lead him down the hall and into the bedroom, then willingly sat on the edge of the king-sized bed to watch the other man strip. Unhurriedly House shed his tee shirt completely, unable to take his eyes off Goren. The man was magnificent, he decided, taking the breadth of Bobby's chest, powerful wide shoulders, the overall strength that came off him in waves. He was proportionate in other areas as well, House noticed, not bothering to cover his own lust as he took in Bobby's erection. Me likey, he thought, unable to keep from flicking his tongue over his lower lip as he kicked off his shoes, socks, slid his jeans down and kicked them aside.
"You really are asking for it, aren't you?" Goren said softly, moving to stand directly in front of House. When House gave him a "who me?" look he added, "Don't bat those baby blues so innocently at me, Greg."
"Never said I was innocent." Greg laid his hand on Goren's cock, grinning when the other man groaned and thrust into his palm. Even more gratifying was the gasp when House licked the tip, then slowly enveloped the shaft into the wet warmth of his mouth.
Greg enjoyed performing oral sex on both men and women; the intimacy, the scent of each lover, all appealed to his senses. Bobby was warm, muscular, his broad hands sinking into Greg's hair, with those wonderful groans music to his ears. He cupped Bobby's balls, testing the weight, rolling them in his palms. The warmth of arousal continued to build within him, intensified by the reaction he was getting from the other man.
"Enough," Bobby said hoarsely, pushing Greg back onto the bed and climbing in after him. Both men moved in unison until their heads were pillowed comfortably. Immediately Bobby rolled onto Greg, his large frame covering the other man's long, lanky one. Once again their mouths clashed eagerly, hands stroking hard planes, muscular forearms and shoulders.
"God, you feel good," Bobby muttered, letting one hand trail down Greg's chest, pausing to flick his fingertips over hardened nipples and grinning when Greg let out a long low groan. His mouth followed, his tongue lapping eagerly while the same hand continued down. A shudder escaped Greg when Bobby's large, callused hand encircled his cock and squeezed.
"Christ!" Greg thrust into the other man's palm, getting a low chuckle in return. The soft laugh trailed off into a moan when Greg's hands grasped Bobby's hips. At first Greg thrust once, gauging Bobby's reaction. The hitch in the other's breath told him all he needed to know. Greg draped his good leg around Bobby's hip and undulated against him.
"Oh, damn," Bobby groaned out, shuddering with each thrust, each slide of their cocks together. They began moving in time, lips and tongues colliding frantically between curses. Before long the rhythm began to overtake them and the swearing turned into long wordless groans.
It became too much, the sound of Bobby's groans, the ecstasy in his facial expressions, the way his cock felt rubbing against Greg's. Their movements increased, hands digging into hips, leaving fingertip marks sure to be bruises by morning. Bobby slid one arm under Greg, pulling him up hard against him as they both began to lose control.
"Come for me, Bobby, come..." His voice trailed off into a long groan as tension pooled in his groin then exploded, causing his hips to jerk as he ejaculated onto Bobby's abdomen. That appeared to send Bobby into a spiral; he let out a gasp, arched back and thrust one last time, spilling between them before collapsing onto Greg.
For several long moments the two lay, catching their breaths. Finally Bobby rolled off to Greg's left side and flung himself back onto the mattress. Greg shut his eyes and drank in the afterglow of good sex with an even better partner, allowing the quakes in his body to slowly abate. His eyes sprang back open when Bobby laid a hold of him and drew his head to rest on the other man's shoulder.
"Cuddler?"
A low chuckle, then, "Yeah. Bother you?"
Greg let out a snort. "Hell, no."
Another silence, then, "Chick magnet, you said?"
At that Greg rose to his elbows to gaze into Bobby's sleepy brown eyes. "I think I can work on that definition to include you," he said with a leer. Immediately both men began to laugh before finally settling into blissful afterglow slumber.
- 1
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Vicodin and Scotch