karaokegal (karaokegal) wrote,

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"The House Syndrome" Chapter 4

Title: The House Syndrome
Chapter: 4/6(Plus epilogue)
Fandom: House MD
Pairings: Wilson/Park, House/Wilson
Worcount: (This Chapter-1250)
Rating: NC17
Warnings: Graphic sex for both pairings. Massive Angst-fest ahead. No fluff, no schmoop. Possible triggers. Read at your own risk.
Notes: THIS IS NOT A WIP! The whole thing is done. I just feel like posting in chapters. Very short chapters. Thanks to michelleann68 for Full Metal Beta. Comments and concrit welcome.
Summary: Things are back to normal, so everyone gets hurt.

Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3

So good.

That’s how it felt to have Wilson make love to her. So good that it was worth the risk, and it was a risk. A stupid, stupid risk.

Park had heard the stories about Wilson almost as soon as she started working at Princeton Plainsboro It couldn’t all be true. If it was, he’d be in a jar at the Smithsonian, not running the oncology department at PPTH.

Of course, there were also rumors about Wilson’s friendship with House. She’d already seen for herself how obsessed House could be with Wilson and the lengths Wilson would go to in order to protect House. It was almost sweet, in a creepy sort of way. As for the sleeping around, well who was she to judge? The number she’d given House just to freak him out wasn’t that far of the mark.

According to Taub, Wilson had been punished for his infidelity in spades. Taub declined to elaborate and Park figured it was none of her business, even though she was curious. All she really needed to know about Wilson was enough to negotiate the minefield of working for House.

She had no intention of getting involved with any aspect of Wilson’s personal life, certainly not his sex life, until she found herself in a bar near the Turnpike. She peered at Wilson over a Seven and Seven, enjoying the sensation of Wilson looking at her as though she were something other than a faceless extension of House.

“What do you want to accomplish by working for him?”

For a moment, she thought Wilson might be mocking her. Any such question from House would merely be the gateway to a new round of verbal abuse for even having a goal beyond surviving another day in the ugly world that he’d created for himself and his employees.

Park looked into Wilson’s eyes, squinting behind her glasses, trying to figure out why exactly Wilson would care.

“Really?” she asked.

“Really. I want to know. You’ve got House’s respect. That makes you a special person right there.”

“I want to get out of debt. I hate owing anybody anything, especially my parents. “

“Understandable. What else?”

“Well, why should sick people and their families get treated like crap just because the best doctor happens to be a jerk?”

“Good question. What do you think?”

“I think it’s possible to be a genius and a decent human being. Or at least find a group of decent human beings who add up to one genius and manage not to treat the patients and their family like crap.”

“Go on.”

One drink became two and then three followed by a short drive to Camillo’s Café for a light dinner that Park knew would certainly place her in some kind of debt to Wilson, but she didn’t care anymore. She had almost forgotten what it was like to express ideals and be taken seriously. To talk about medicine and ethics and even The Affordable Health Care Act without feeling like she was in an adversarial situation.

She started to feel like she could talk to Wilson about anything and more importantly that she wanted to. Park ordered a desert she had no intention of eating and an after-dinner coffee that would probably jangle her nerves for days.

All she wanted to do was keep the evening going and postpone the decision that she knew was coming. Not that Wilson would ever force the issue, or possibly even bring it up. By the time she and Wilson had chuckled together over the similarities between Korean and Jewish mothers, Park had completely forgotten that Wilson wasn’t her type and that he was too old for her and that sleeping with him was tantamount to career suicide.

What was worse, the check came and she didn’t feel the slightest twitch at the sight of Wilson’s wallet and credit card. She also caught a glimpse of what could have been a condom wrapper. That didn’t bother her either. When they got back to the car Wilson checked his messages, looking pleased or at least satisfied at what he saw here. There was a meeting of eyes and the unspoken question in raised eyebrows from Wilson and a quick nod from Park.

“Are you sure?” he asked softly, but emphatically.

She nodded again.

The Hilton was closer than Wilson’s apartment, but Park suspected there was more behind the decision than out-of-control passion. House’s inability to acknowledge, much less respect boundaries was legendary and that much worse when it came to Wilson. Park wasn’t sure if she was being hidden or protected; either way she appreciated it. She closed her eyes and tried not to think about what was about to happen, denial was her best friend right now.

In the impersonal comfort of the hotel room, she opened herself up to Wilson hands and mouth, letting herself let go completely. So good, she thought, moaning as his tongue moved over her clit, skirting the line between too much pleasure and just enough. His fingers penetrated her, causing her to writhe and grind. It was as if Wilson’s hands pulled the orgasm out of her, ending with a bone deep shudder.

Once she caught her breath, Park decided to show Wilson some moves of her own. He was equally receptive, a canvas of smooth white skin with a sprinkle of chest hair. She played with him, leading to sighs peppered with groans. His dick was impressive, as was his self-control, although she could feel the desperation rising the more she teased him.

She watched the play of pleasure contorting Wilson’s face, making him bite down on his lower lip, even bringing sweat to his forehead. It was good to know she could still do that.

Her lips made a tight, hot hole to suck him off with, while she added the warmth of her hands cradling his balls. She even threw a few wet fingers into the mix, until Wilson was pleading in his most beautiful, broken voice.

The “please” was accompanied by a gesture toward the condom that he’d left on the night stand. Park imagined herself thumbing her nose at the voices in her head that liked to tell her she wasn’t good enough, especially House’s.

Who’s fucking your boyfriend now?

“You’re beautiful,” Wilson whispered, as she put the rubber on him. His fists were clenched and tension was visible in every feature.

“Yes,” she agreed, straddling him, feeling in complete control, and proving it by bringing him off quickly, reveling in every gasp and twitch of his release, loving the feeling of him deep inside her, pushing as if he wanted to stay there forever. Even though she didn’t come again, seeing the relaxation and relief on Wilson’s face was nearly as good.

“Thank you,” he said, leaving her without a comeback. Instead she lifted herself off of Wilson and made a quick run to the bathroom, grabbing a towel on the way back, which she used to clean both of them.

Once they’d settled in to a comfortable cuddle, Park’s temporarily forgotten worries flooding back into her mind.

“Am I going to get fired?” she murmured into Wilson’s chest. More curious than genuinely concerned. The concern and worry would come later. She was still suffused with enough afterglow to think it might have been worth it, even if she did lose her job.

He kissed her shoulder and shook his head.

“Not if I can help it,” he replied.
Tags: fanfic, greg house, house/wilson, housefic, james wilson, slash, wilson/park

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