"How many people get to lose their virginity twice, I ask you?" Robert bit his lip. Best not to offend her further, he had to keep a cool head in front of the press. He wanted to remind her that Cuddy had already slept with House, but he knew that in her mind, it didn't happen until a camera was hovering nearby and Hugh's hand was up her shirt. After another minute or two discussing relationships on the show, he slipped around the corner and into the nearest bathroom, escaping the whirring of cameras and obnoxious flashing lights. The walls were covered in pale blue tile, and they looked cool to the touch. He slumped next to the paper towel dispenser and closed his eyes for a moment, listening to muffled laughter outside.

There was a sudden crescendo of volume and a rush of warm air as the door swung open. Robert opened his eyes and pushed away from the wall, slightly embarrassed to be caught looking so exasperated. Hugh strode into the room with a tired smile, thumbs straightening the sleeves of his suit. The door swung shut, Hugh sighed in comfortable relief, and it was quiet again.

“Nice tie.” He motioned, smirking slightly. “Is it made out of aluminum foil?” Robert grinned. “I thought the reflected light might blind paparazzi and potential interviewers, although it didn’t seem to deter that one guy with the five-head.” He wondered idly if Hugh had followed him into the bathroom, and why he was just standing there. Probably the same reason he had ducked inside. “Yeah, I heard what you said to Ausiello…” he laughed, shaking his head. “Lisa’s jaw about fell off. I can’t believe that you said Huddy makes you feel nauseous.”

Robert smiled at the floor, the tips of his ears burning. “Why, do you feel any differently?” Hugh shook his head. “Nah, she makes me a bit uncomfortable. To be perfectly honest, I think the show would be much more interesting if I was in a relationship with y-.. Wilson. It was quiet for a moment, and Robert bit his lip, trying not to giggle like a little girl. Whoops. Freudian slip.

“I’ll eat my shoe when that happens” he sighs, and glances up at Hugh. His face is now serious, with a sobering intensity that makes Robert’s heart pound. It’s quiet again, and he wishes he could hide in that little blue room with Hugh all day. “Um…” He mumbles, with no clear idea of what he wants to say. Steely blue eyes are studying him, and it’s unsettling just how wolfish he looks. “It’s nice in here”. He blinks, and Hugh’s lips are pressed against his. All of the blood in his body seems to rush southward, and he feels dizzy as he tells his stunned mouth to kiss back.

Oh my god.

“You must have balls the size of the sun” he breathlessly exclaims as Hugh pushes him against the wall with his body. “You started it” he laughs, and there’s liquid heat in a very sensitive spot behind Robert’s ear. “If it never ends up happening in the show, at least I’ll have this… some semblance of what I’ve been dying to do to you for the last five years.” They both shiver.

Kisses grow frantic, and they’re grinding against each other in sexual frustration. “Can’t… even mess up your hair” Hugh groans, and palms him through the thin fabric of his pants. Robert panics for half a second, eyes flashing to the doorway where shadows snake along the ground. It’s then that he notices the silver latch that has already been slid shut. This was planned. The sneaky bastard.

“Fuck it” he growls, and shoves a hand beneath the hem of Robert’s pants fast enough to take him by surprise. The sudden warmth and pressure has him gasping against Hugh’s mouth, and he’s thankful for the lack of subtlety. The tiles behind him are no longer cool to the touch; everything is hot, constricting, and frustrating. His knees almost give out on him as Hugh sucks on his neck, pumping his hand erratically and breathing like a marathon runner. “Ss-stop” he gasps, and whines low in his throat as the other man drops to his knees and oh god don’t ever stop I’ll hate you if you stop.

The world narrows and disappears around Hugh’s skillful fingers and the confines of his wet-hot mouth, wrapped snugly and possessively around his cock. Fingers tangle themselves in his silver-streaked hair. The pressure builds until it’s painful and white light flashes behind his eyes. Wordless moans reverberate through the small room; the tiles amplify every wet suck and panting breath. Hugh grabs his ass and his hips jerk; causing him to accidentally thrust deep into his throat. He comes with a violent shudder, and Hugh moans deliciously as he fights to swallow every drop, effectively doubling the sensitivity and delivering the most impressive orgasm of his life.

“You… that… look a mess…” he pants, heart fluttering when Hugh stands with a satisfied grin and kisses him with lazy fervor. “Want me to help you with..?” A quiet knock on the door causes them both to jump about a foot, and they hurry to tuck everything back in. Clothes back in working order and hair brushed into place, Hugh studies him once again. “You still look guilty” he chuckles affectionately, and Robert replies with a sheepish smile. “Just keep me away from Lisa, I think I’ve pissed her off enough for one day.” Hugh narrows his eyes and grins deviously. “I daresay that’s unavoidable with that big, glowing “I-just-got-laid” expression you’ve got on. You’re an actor, try to hide it.” The goofy smile plastered to his face looked as though it wasn’t about to leave anytime soon. “Forget it, you’re hopeless” Hugh laughs, stormy eyes flashing as he clicks open the silver latch.

Your result for The House, MD Personality Test...

Dr. James Wilson

50% Eccentricity, 35% Confidence, 50% Kindness

Take The House, MD Personality Test at HelloQuizzy

Author: awayfromjays

Parings: Lighthouse, eventually Wightman and/or Hilson. You'll just have to wait and see. ;)

Rating: R

sinloi

tenth_bananas

Narcissism at its Finest

Chapter 3- Freudian slip

            Lightman must know he knew. House was almost certain; Wilson walking in seconds after he left hadn’t been a coincidence; he had seen him coming and bolted. What did that sneaky little bastard want with him? Should he confront him about it, or pretend to have his head in the sand, and see if he could figure out this little puzzle on his own? The pillow resting against his cheek was uncomfortably warm, but he was stuck in such an obsessive loop that he feared moving would disrupt the flow of his thoughts. It was close to three in the morning, and every time he shut his eyes Cal’s mischievous face burned brightly in his retinas. He was so… full of flaws, he was flawless. Every wrinkle and every curve in the man seemed to have been etched by gods with a peculiar sense of humor; an awkward Adonis, made just for him to take apart and examine the pieces. He sighed as that mental metaphor swerved in another direction; now his intrusive thoughts consisted of fingers sliding beneath Cal’s rough shirt, creeping heat and teasing teeth against his shoulders and neck… there was nothing he wanted more than to take him apart, piece by perplexing piece.

It took him roughly an hour of half-formed fantasies before he rolled over in frustration and resigned himself to another sleepless night. The damn pills wouldn’t be nearly enough to calm the storm in his mind.

            The next morning was just as uneventful as any other day; he woke up, took a shower, scalded the roof of his mouth with hot coffee, and drove to work. There weren’t any interesting new cases and his damn soaps didn’t start until eleven, so he decided to schmooze with Wilson for a bit. He was studiously pouring over paperwork, but reluctantly set it aside when House stole his stapler and threatened to give his desk a few shiny new decorations. Everything was normal and unexciting. He briefly considered slipping into the clinic on the off chance that someone would be dying in a diagnostically pleasing way, before remembering that Cuddy was probably on the prowl. God forbid she catch him actually doing his job.

            Around two, he followed his friend to the cafeteria. They were shuffling in line and knee-deep in a very serious conversation about hermaphrodites when something he saw over Wilson’s shoulder derailed his thoughts completely. Lightman was on the other side of the room, sitting alone and eating a very large apple. Staring directly at him with the most intense expression he’d ever seen. “…swear to god, there’s this one website where they have the nerve to charge you ten bucks a month, just because… are you having an epiphany or something?” Wilson raised an eyebrow and followed his line of sight. Cal immediately blinked and turned to his food when he saw him begin craning his neck. “Huh. I wonder why he’s here again. Think he’s following you?” he whispered. House shook his head. “His daughter’s in the hospital getting an appendectomy. I saw her chart this morning.” The skepticism on his friend’s face both made him smirk and cringe internally. “What’s with that face? I’m supposed to be the suspicious asshole, quit stealing my lines.” His friend shrugged and ate a cherry tomato. “It wouldn’t be the first time someone you’ve wronged decided to exact revenge.” He muttered in a theatrically ominous tone. House rolled his eyes. “Right then. I should go over there and ask him where he plans on dumping my body, so you’ll know where to find the socks I stole from your gym bag.” The tomato eater smiled and wiped his face with a napkin. Well played.

            They continued to eat with less to say, House glancing over at Cal every time his friend’s eyes wandered. The man was staring just as intently as before, with narrowed eyes and a very subtle smile. It was incredibly unnerving. He didn’t need to know why he was staring, just that he was staring. There are only a handful of reasons that people stare. Bright sunlight filtering through a nearby window oversaturated every little movement he made. The tendons in his hand stretched as he slowly spun the green apple in his palm, and House watched, fascinated. Then, abruptly, Lightman stood up and walked from the room, tossing his half-finished fruit in the garbage.

            He sat for a few moments longer, then stole a handful of Wilson’s leafy lunch and pushed his chair from the table. “I think I’m going home early, didn’t sleep well last night. Are we still on for poker tomorrow?” He waited just long enough for the nod before walking away in the direction Cal had taken.

            The second he rounded the corner he was roughly pushed into a nearby bathroom and pressed up against the wall. Lightman’s hands gripped his collar as if he were about to be ripped away. He was breathing hard, and his face was alarmingly close. “Do you have any idea… just how easy it is to read the arousal on your face? Luckily for me, you weren’t trying to hide it…” House stared wordlessly at the man, neither confirming nor contradicting. His heart was racing a mile a minute. “Your pupils dilate… pulse and breathing quickens…” A soft hand slid across his shoulder and tickled his neck. “But you look angry… now that’s a funny way of showing it. I know you’re not really angry.” House could taste the sweetness of his breath; his parted lips were just inches away. “I frustrate you.”

            With an animalistic growl House crashed his lips against Cal’s, both thumbs finding their way behind his ears as eager fingers tangled in his hair. They wrestled for dominancy, trying to force each other against the stall without distancing themselves an inch from the other. “You have… no idea” House breathed, and distributed all of his weight on the leg positioned between both of Cal’s, swallowing his moan. He felt the man’s hot, thick erection grinding into his undamaged thigh, and had to stop himself from biting too deeply into his bottom lip. Cal didn’t seem to care enough to instill the same courtesy and left deep bite marks at the base of his neck, causing him to hiss in pain and dig his fingertips even deeper into Cal’s hips. Neither of them worried much about being gentle; both seemed only too willing to tear the other apart.

            The flush of a toilet interrupted their fevered kissing. “Shit.” Cal hissed, and House watched as he mentally slapped himself in the face. “Should’ve checked.” He quickly gave the man another aggressive kiss, and then slipped out the door as quickly as the first time. A suspicious Chase stepped from the stall, took one look at House’s ruffled appearance and grinned. “Was someone… in here with you?” House was trying very hard to slow his breathing and gain his composure. He knew it wouldn’t do any good to lie. “Yeah.” He muttered, and narrowed his eyes as a warning not to ask anything more. “Well…” Chase struggled with the empty soap dispensers. (“-god damn, doesn’t anyone fill these?”) “Who was it then?” He rolled his eyes and swallowed a pill. “Wilson and I have decided to take our friendship to the next level.” The blonde man abruptly stopped abusing the soap canister and looked at him incredulously. “Seriously?” He smirked and swung open the door. “Why, are you jealous?” Chase cocked an eyebrow and slowly shook his head. “Shame, guess I’m not...sensitive enough, or whatever it is you flamers like. “Right, sorry I asked.” He laughed, and waved him out the door with wet hands.

A.N.: Ahhhh interrupted sex sucks, doesn’t it? Sorry it took me so long to update, I’ve been a little busy this summer.

Author: awayfromjays

Parings: Lighthouse, eventually Wightman and Hilson.

Rating: Eventually NC-17, but PG for now.

Chapter 2- Stealing from the Cookie Jar

            House gingerly stepped into the shower, sighing with satisfaction as the steaming hot water streamed down his chest. His leg was feeling pretty good today. Well, enough for him to take a shower at least. It had been a few weeks since the accident, and Lightman still hadn’t called him with an estimate. Hell, he wasn’t complaining… but it was weird. He idly wondered if the man just wanted to screw with his head. There was no way he could have possibly forgotten; he had caused a hell of a lot more than a scratch. The guy was probably just busy. Or impossibly generous, but House didn’t think that was case after watching him shout at Wilson for five minutes. He grabbed a towel and fluffed his hair dry, then shrugged into his clothes and limped towards the door. His cane was resting around the doorknob, just where he’d left it.

            He was halfway through the door to his office with coffee in hand when a loud crashing noise jarred him to attention. Cal was in his office, looking flustered and embarrassed. In his hand were the remains of a small glass duck, a birthday present Wilson had given him the year before. Upon receiving the gift, he had simply smirked in thanks and placed it on the nearest shelf, and hadn’t thought of it again until this moment. “What the hell..?” was all he could manage to say now, the diminutive man biting his lip with a guilty expression.

            “Um, sorry, you startled me when you walked in. You’re surprisingly stealthy for a cripple.” Normally, House would’ve pretended he felt insulted by these words from a stranger (a bit of hypocritical sensitivity training starts the day off nicely), but he was too surprised to see this man standing in his office when he had been thinking of him just moments before. “What are you doing here?” he asked, brows furrowing in confusion.

            “Oh, I take it Cuddy didn’t tell you then? She was probably worried you had something to do with it…” he muttered, scratching his chin absentmindedly. After a moment he shook his head as though it didn’t matter what she thought. “Someone in the hospital has been stealing a ton of medical supplies. We’re not just talking tongue depressors and Q-tips, but syringes and medication. Lots of syringes. Apparently it’s been going on for over a month now, with supplies taken from every wing of the hospital. She hired me to figure out who’s behind it.” He placed the duck fragments in the trash and leaned against the desk, crossing his arms and ankles. “Now, normally this isn’t a case I would agree to work on… but I did have an ulterior motive. The corners of his mouth curled upwards in a smirk. “Honestly, I wanted the opportunity to see you again. You’re strange.” Narrowing his eyes at Cal, the excitement now playing across his features showed that he obviously meant this as a compliment.

            “Says the man who gets off on watching people’s faces twitch. I feel sorry for whoever’s stuck living with you.” House took a sip of coffee and raised an eyebrow as Cal let out a chuckle. “No you’re not! The last time I saw you, jealousy was leaking out of every orifice. Now, that’s not a reaction I get too often. Usually, it’s fear.” He flashed an unnervingly wide smile that didn’t reach his eyes. “People seem to be under the impression that I can tell every immoral and dishonest thing they’ve ever done, simply at a glance.” Teeth began to worry at his lip again as he considered that for a moment. “Can you?” House asked suspiciously, clear blue eyes focusing on Cal’s muddied green. He snapped out of his reverie and stared back wordlessly, chest rising and falling a bit more quickly than before. In the back of his mind, House was proud that he had noticed this tiny change in the man.

            Neither of them said a word for what seemed like hours, both of them apparently content to stand back and memorize the other. It felt as natural as breathing. The strangest thing was how tense the atmosphere seemed to be between them. The air was full of thick electricity, and it had all of his blood flowing to all the wrong places. House noticed with mild surprise Lightman’s defensive posture, weight distributed evenly on both feet with arms folded across his chest. He dimly realized how he must’ve looked; leaning against the door, with both hands on his cane securely in front of him.

            “Perhaps a bit more than a glance” Lightman answered quietly, after such a long period of time that he had forgotten the question. Moving stiffly, he unfolded his arms and shoved his hands in his pockets, as if he had no idea what to do with them. “I’ll, um…” He paused, and frowned at the floor. “Probably see you tomorrow. I’ll be here for a while.” House quickly thought up a dozen questions that might keep him a few minutes longer, but he refused to say a word as Cal slipped lightly past him and out the door. As their arms accidentally brushed against each other, he could’ve sworn he felt the other man inhale sharply in surprise. He realized that he had absolutely no idea why he wanted him to stay; only that the very presence of someone with such a depth, and such a talent attracted him like a frenzied moth to a light bulb.

            Wilson walked in a few seconds later, and he would’ve jumped a foot in the air if jumping had been possible. “You look like you’re about to have an aneurism” he laughed, and jerked a thumb in the direction Lightman had headed off to. “What was that about? I just spoke to Cuddy; she wanted me to let you know that she’s borrowing Lucas for a few weeks. Something about an employee stealing medical supplies.”

Lightman had lied to him?

His eyes widened with the realization, and he quickly scanned the crowd of doctors and patients beyond the glass walls. Damn, nowhere in sight. He must’ve known that he’d discover the truth, so why did he use that as an excuse to come and see him? Unless… that was the point. Was he toying with him, or was he testing him?

“I have no idea what that was about.” He muttered, still searching the crowd. In that second, he decided that he wouldn’t say a word about it to the man standing next to him until he figured out what the hell Lightman wanted with him. Wilson looked bewildered by his strange behavior, but kindly shrugged it off and decided not to press things further.

Title: Narcissism at its Finest

A House/Lie To Me crossover

Chapter 1- What Just Happened?

Author: awayfromjays

Parings: Lighthouse, eventually Wightman and Hilson

Rating: Eventually NC-17, but PG for now.

Word count: 878

Betas: the lovely sinloi and tenth_bananas. <3

Summary: House and Lightman meet for the first time, under stressful circumstances.