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Everybody Lies	By : clueless1der Category: G through L > House Views: 3646 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own House, nor any of the characters from it. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.

Chapter List
- 1-Everybody Lies
- 2-1
- 3-2
- 4-3
- 5-4
- 6-5
- 7-6
- 8-final - 7
- 2
- 3
- 4
House thought that he was being rather well
behaved, considering Wilson looked like he had just peed himself.

The two were waiting for their luggage. Wilson was staring dead on at the
luggage carousel refusing to look either left or right. House was helpfully
pointing out all the people that did a double-take at the sight of the handsome
doctor with the huge, wet stain on the front of his clothes.

�There�s another one. Gosh, she shouldn�t laugh so hard. That color of red isn�t
overly attractive on her. You can sort of see the red come up from those
incredibly huge boobs of hers. If only she weren�t blonde.�

That did it. Wilson looked, and then glared at House when the red-faced,
stacked blonde was in actuality a 50-something, graying, overweight
biker with a beard.

�Can you please just grow up?�

�Doubtful. Hey, there�s my suitcase. Excuse me sir, can you reach that black
one? Yeah, that one with the Yellow Submarine sticker.
I can�t quite manage, and my friend is too humiliated by his weak bladder to
assist me. �Preciate it.�
House maneuvered his bag (Thank god
they put the little wheels on it.) over to some chairs
and sat down, looking content with the world.
Wilson was less than. He was soaked,
sticky, and getting more pissed off by the second as his luggage didn�t show
up. Eventually he and an older lady were the only ones standing. When the
carousel shut down completely and the flight information screen changed, Wilson
hung his head in defeat. Today just really wasn�t his day.

He swore under his breath. The older lady wasn�t so shy. There were words
coming out of her mouth that would make a sailor blush. He sighed and went to
find out what to do about his luggage.

They steered him to a miniscule room that reeked of stale cigarettes. The woman
looked bored. Her gaze landed on his crotch, then slowly moved up to his
eye-level.
�Sweetie, it looks like you�re having a
really crappy day.�

He heard House come to stand in the middle of the doorway. House�s gait had a
certain shuffle to it, one followed by the cane hitting the linoleum floor, and
in this case the sound of the wheels. (One was annoyingly squeaky.)

Wilson took care of his luggage (It was stuck in Atlanta in a freak snowstorm)
and turned around. House didn�t move back fast enough, and the two bumped
together. Wilson made a little �oooph� of
surprise.
�My goodness, you�re wet.�
This was followed by two gasps, as the old
lady with the potty mouth had just come up behind House, and the lady in the
dismal office both heard House�s comment, spoken in tones darkly significant-
like one would say to your lover.

�Let�s just go get the car. Please.� Wilson refused to acknowledge why
House�s words kept ringing in his ears. It was�disturbing.

House turned his head to stare at the woman behind him. He raised an eyebrow.
She looked at his cane and moved back so that he could swing around. There just
wasn�t much room in the little office.
As they moved away a little bit, House
pulled over to the side and started rummaging in his suitcase.

�Here. These are a little big on me. They should fit.
But I�m not letting you stretch out my String Cheese Incident shirt. I have
standards.�

Wilson accepted the jeans with a little smile. He set down his carryon and
laptop by House and walked into a handy restroom to change. He shook his
head as he unbuttoned his slacks, thought for a second, then stripped off his
boxers. That was the thing with House. He could be such a prick� then do some
kind thing- that was completely unexpected. The jeans were a little tight, but
he managed to squeeze into them. He balled up his (still!) wet clothes and
stepped out of the stall.

He walked out to where House was standing patiently, bent over to pick up his
stuff and smiled.

�Thanks.�

House almost swallowed his teeth when Wilson came out wearing his jeans. On his
lanky frame, they were a little baggy. Not that anyone could tell with his suit
jacket� but on Wilson�.
Guh.
They fit. Too well.
Well enough that when he bent over to get his things, they outlined the shape
of his butt so perfectly that� well� never mind, fool. You�re in the middle
of a freaking airport.
�Ready?�
You have no idea. �Sure. Lead on.�

House was limping for a different reason as he followed Wilson�s ass to the
rental counter.

The guy behind the desk was nice enough to
recommend a taxi since the hotel and the convention center were fairly close to
each other. The guy not-so-subtly checked out Wilson as they turned to leave.
House gave him the finger behind Wilson�s back. The guy shrugged and grinned.

When they made it out of the airport, the sunshine hit them. Wilson had to
squint a bit before he could even see the taxi, let alone hail it.

�It doesn�t seem like Christmastime.� Wilson spoke to House as the two sat back
in the seat.

�Yeah, Santa is really gonna miss the sleet and ice.
Besides, Christmas is what, a couple of weeks away?� House had no idea.

The cabbie pulled up and took their bags out of the trunk. �Here you guys
go. The Westin. That�ll be $6.70.� Wilson pulled out a
ten. House pulled out Vicodin.

�Welcome, sirs. Let me take those for you.� The bellhop was wearing a crisp uniform.
Wilson surrendered his carry on, House his suitcase. The two followed his
gesture to the check-in desk, where affluent people waited to serve them.

House stood back and let Wilson speak.

His attention wandered until he heard Wilson slap his hand down on the counter.
In-ter-est-ing. He walked a little closer.

�Fine!� Wilson turned around and angrily ran his
hand through his hair. �Unbelievable. Un-fucking-believable.
I must have really pissed God off or something.�

�Naturally. Do tell.�

�Your room has been booked. My room, however� has been given away to someone
else.�

House blinked.

He walked up to the counter. The lady in her pearls was looking slightly upset.
House looked at her nametag. �Debbie. Hello. I would like to claim a reservation,
please. Gregory House.� He fished out his ID and gave it to her. �Are you
sure that there isn�t a room for my friend here?�

�No� sir... I�m so very sorry. It looks as if it was booked, but cancelled. Now
with the convention and all there are no more rooms!�

Poor thing� she did look like this little snafu was ruining her day.

�Oh, hey. No worries. He can bunk with me. You can
just whip up a little free bar service or cable or something and all will be
forgiven.� House winked.

Debbie looked shocked, then faintly dreamy
as those blue eyes stared, then subversive, then guilty as she clicked a few
keys. Her voice lowered to a whisper.

�Okay. Mister House. I gave you a credit to
your bill.� She raised her voice to a normal pitch. �And here are your room
keys. That is room number 3838. George, there can help you with your
belongings.�
�Thanks, Debbie.�
House grinned as he nodded his head towards
the elevators. Gathering his cane and the check-in information he turned to go.
Wilson was still muttering under his breath as he stomped after him.

When George closed the door, House turned to Wilson and said, �You�ll just have
to sleep with me.� Oh God! �In my room, uh. I
mean. Well, you could sleep with me, but I�m kind of a moaner. These
hotels are famous for their thin walls��
House said it with a straight face.
Wilson turned interesting colors as George coughed discreetly.
�Third floor.�Wilson
gave the poor man a look of apology as he followed House to their room. George
seemed to be taking a lot of time following them as they walked.
�Seriously. Today is the worst day ever. I better not eat dinner, although I�m
completely starving. I�ll probably choke on it.�
�Oh, quit the emo
routine and unlock the damn door. I don�t have enough hands.� Wilson
jumped forward, realizing that George was inspecting a flower arrangement about
10 feet away, and swiped the card.
The door swung open. Wilson stepped aside
to let House enter. Light flooded the dark room as House hit the switch.
There was only one bed, a king-sized� nay�
orgy-sized monstrosity that dominated the center of the room.
�Oh.� Wilson said as he stood in the
doorway.
House smirked. Cuddy.
Who was the only one who had the details of their trip, and therefore was
the only one who could have cancelled Wilson�s room and booked this one. What a
lovely, lovely woman. He was going to have to father her children. Just as a
favor.
House moved further into the room so
George, who was quite freaked out at this point and was refusing to talk or make
eye contact, could unload their stuff. He shifted from one foot to the other
until Wilson tipped him, turned around, and left, wheeling the little cart in
front of him like a man with a purpose.
�I�m sorry about this.� Wilson spoke,
his voice too loud in the room.

�Don�t be. Consider it my gift to you. A token of my appreciation for our friendship.�

Wilson started walking around, flipping on lights. He snorted. �Yeah�like you�re paying for the room.�

House snagged the control and flopped down on one side of the bed.

�I�m really starving.�
�Well of course. It�s much later on
the East coast. Do you want to order in or go somewhere?�
�Hmm. I think I�d like to sit at a table. Somewhere where we
can get a beer, too. I need to call Julie anyway and talk to her about overnighting some clothes.�

House tried not to think perverted thoughts while Wilson talked to his wife. ..
For about two seconds. He was having a lovely fantasy where Wilson hung up the
phone and decided to jump him when Wilson stood up from the desk area and stood
over House.

�Are you asleep?�
�Mmmm..� he cleared his throat. �Erm. No. I�m ready to go.�

They flipped off most of the lights and went downstairs. It was a good thing
that House had given him one of the keys, because he had almost forgotten to
bring one.

Wilson asked the concierge where he suggested for food, and if there was any
places close that he could buy a suit and some other articles. He was
explaining about the luggage fuckup when House noticed something.
�There seems to be a lot of women
here.� There were too. So much that they were roughly the only two men in the
whole lobby. Two (if he did say so himself) attractive
men.
Wilson looked around, suddenly
feeling like a goldfish in a room full of piranhas.
�Um��
The concierge smiled benevolently.
�There�s a fanfiction convention.�
House looked interested. �Really? �Cus I sure do love me
some Grey�s Anatomy fic.�
Wilson thanked the man and they went
out the door. It was still sunny, and the Christmas decorations seemed overly
garish.
�Fanfiction?� Wilson was confused. �He said it was
only across the street. How�s your leg holding up?�
�I�m fine. You�ve never heard of fanfiction? It�s awesome. Puts hardcore
porn to shame. Basically a lot of people feel the need to write
different� realities� for various characters.�

�And there are a lot of people that do this?�
House nodded and pushed the
streetlight button with his cane. They waited for a bit while the sign changed
from �don�t walk� to �walk�.
House debated on whether or not to
even get into the subject of slash.
Wilson changed the subject.
�I think Julie is going to go ahead
and send me a couple of suits and something to sleep in. I was lucky that my
notes were either in my laptop case or on my computer. Miraculously, I don�t
think I�ll be too bad off for tomorrow�s lectures. You�re lucky, you know. You
don�t actually have to speak at these things. It�s enough that the great
Dr. Gregory Hou- hey. Do I smell barbeque?�
House smelled it too. Ambrosia.
They quickly nixed the idea of the
upscale restaurant that the concierge had recommended and made a beeline
for the BBQ place.
Fifteen minutes later had them seated
and happily engrossed in their beer- a couple of Heinekens.
The place was a little on the dark side but it was very busy, a good
sign that the food was pretty good.

�I don�t know if I can handle shopping with you too. Not when there are 6
stations of porn back in the hotel room. �
Wilson grinned and shook his head.
�That�s fine. I doubt that it will take me very long.� The waitress came around
that time to take their orders.

�Hm. This from the man who takes 20 minutes to decide
which salad dressing he wants from the cafeteria. �

Wilson shook his head. They discussed the conference, and Wilson went over his
speech with House, who applauded and hooted in between bites of barbeque
chicken. Wilson picked up the check (as usual) and the two went their separate
ways.

Instead of flipping on the TV, House turned on Wilson�s computer. He turned up
the air conditioning to �frozen tundra�, putted around a bit on the internet,
unpacked his clothes, and set out some of Wilson�s papers, more as an excuse to
be nosy, but with the added bonus of organizing some of Jimmy�s stuff. Which was unlike him. He kept sneaking peeks at the bed,
mussed slightly from where he had lay down before.

Really, if he needed any proof that there wasn�t a God, all he had to do was
think about all those hours being forced to sleep next to Jimmy. Sure he
had done some not-so swell things in his life, but this would be really hard. So to speak.

House sat dejectedly at the desk, doodling on the pad next to the phone.
Wilson had written Julie: UPS: 10 am.

Julie.

That was really the core of the problem. You would think that after two wives
Jimmy would be used to this last little flare-up before the flame was squished
out. With Julie, though� House had to admit to pushing� just a wee bit. A
comment there� a significant look there� he was sure that she suspected that he
and her husband were having a torrid affair.
Jimmy... it was okay to call him Jimmy in
his thoughts, right? Where no one knew? �was completely oblivious.

The problem was, of course that they weren�t having an affair� torrid or
otherwise.
House had to admit, he did feel
guilty about his role in things. If Jimmy ever knew some of the calculated,
inane things he said to Julie, he would probably never speak to him again. And
he certainly felt guilty about how bad things were for him at home� or he did
until Jimmy confessed to another affair. So at least one of them was having
sex.

Oh god. Don�t think of sex. Do. Not. Think.
Of�� too late.

It was probably one of his favorite fantasies. The two of them were
talking on his couch, had the TV on for the noise, but were really discussing
something else. His couch had the tendency to droop
slightly in the middle, which made it uncomfortable as hell to sleep on, but
had the bonus effect ok causing the two people seated at either end to
sort of lean in towards each other.
In his fantasy, Jimmy is the aggressor.
They are laughing at something ridiculous, and Jimmy leans in to kiss him. The
kiss is so hot. Somehow they find themselves mashed together on the couch,
hands everywhere� mouths grazing over every inch of skin as it�s
revealed� clothes come off� Jimmy moves down his body, mouthing over the hard
bulge in his jeans� He thrusts up unable to help himself�Jimmy smiles a little
wickedly and slowly starts to unzi�.
The sound of the key in the lock caused
House to jump and snap the tip of the pencil against the pad of paper. He
shifted around in the chair giving his back to Jim� no� Wilson.

�Hey there. How�s the porn? Am I sure I want to share
a bed with you after you get all sexed up?�
�Cute. No, I�ve been busy deleting files on
your computer.� Wilson dropped the shopping bags and suit bag and sprinted over
to the little desk. House closed his eyes as he felt Wilson�s body heat behind
him.
Pathetic.
-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
House woke up all at once when he felt a
warm body cuddle close to him. He froze, not sure of what was happening.
He was disoriented in the dark. He couldn�t see the clock without moving
his head. There was a sleepy murmur and House felt a soft wet kiss on the nape
of his neck. Knowing it wasn�t medically possible, but feeling damn sure
as if it were, he felt every bit of blood in his body rush to his cock.
He was still afraid to move, but he managed to turn mostly his eyes towards the
man next to him. Then centimeter, by oh, so careful
centimeter, his head.

A soft snore greeted his trouble.

Fuck.

Wilson�s hand came up onto his stomach, moving up towards his chest.
Perhaps if he had moved his hand a wee bit further down Wilson would have
woken up rather quickly. As it was, House tried to ease himself away from his
sudden cuddle-slut best friend. Who was straight.
As in not into guys. As in not into guys with
raging hard-ons who were debating the pros and cons of
flipping over and showing Wilson what twelve years of pent-up frustration felt
like.

Or he could just ease out from under him and jerk off for about three hours.
Plan B it was, then.
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Everybody Lies