Disclaimer: Unfortunately, I don't own the two sexy men you're about to read about. But if I do ever get a chance to purchase them, I will definitely NOT be sharing! LOL

Author's Notes: I have decided to embark on a little adventure. I have recently been popping in my old DVDs of season one of House and I was thinking of what I thought of the House/Wilson relationship at that exact point. So, I will be writing several oneshot fics each taking place directly after the episode they are named for. There will be spoilers for the episode mentioned, not that will matter since I'm sure each of us have already seen these eps, but I thought I'd better mention it or get scolded! Please keep in mind that I tried to push all information out of my mind except exactly what was given to us in the episode titled and previous episodes. For instance, in this episode, we do not know that Wilson is married or has ever been married for that matter. He wears no ring and never mentions his wife. Also, this will not be a series, saying that you will NOT have to read this one to read the next. Nothing that happened in this one will be mentioned or will have happened in the next. The only connection is that they will all be House/Wilson mostly SLASH fics. Hope you enjoy!

Pilot

A familiar figure stepped beside him as he waited for the elevator, the same figure that fell into that same place several times per day. He tapped his cane in between his two feet, creating the slightest tapping noise in their circle of silence.

Once they stepped into the elevator House said, "Your cousin…she's good."

Wilson sighed as the doors swooshed closed. "She's not my cousin, you know that."

He remained silent until the doors opened once again and said over his shoulder as he walked out, "Yep." As they both stepped out into the brisk fall air, "It's funny, isn't it, that you pretended the patient was your cousin to get me to take the case? Not Cuddy, not Cameron or Foreman; you."

Flipping his collar up, blocking as much wind as possible, he responded, "Not really, no. I thought it was kind of obvious, actually."

"Why is that?"

"Because I'm your only friend."

Sounding philosophical, "We are friends, aren't we?"

With an agreeing shrug, "Of course we are."

Pointing his finger accusingly in Wilson's direction, "Yet you, my only friend, lied to me, to get me to take a case."

He swiped a hand over his face. "Yes, House. I lied. I lied to get you to do your job. I lied because I know you'll pretty much, within reason, do anything I ask of you if I can make you believe you're doing it for me."

His brow furrow as he tried to decide whether that tidbit of information was actually true. Wilson was his only friend; that fact was an undeniable truth. And secretly, he would pretty much do anything Wilson asked of him. But the question was how did Wilson figure that out. Was he really that obvious? He prided himself for being able to hide the mushy feelings that might make other people believe that he might in fact be human and have a heart. Better question was if Wilson knew this, how far would he push it?

Ah, yes, a new puzzle. With a smug smile, "Prove it." Without waiting for a response, he turned and headed to his car, parked close by in the handicap section.

A little stunned, and slightly excited, Wilson turned toward his car. Prove it? What did he mean by that? How could he prove it now? Certainly House would adamantly refuse to do anything that was suggested from him. Unlike his best friend, he hated puzzles.

But as many times as he tried on the way home, he couldn't push the challenge from his mind. As he grabbed a bottle of water from his fridge and headed to the bathroom for a quick shower, he realized the House knew exactly what buttons to push to get to him. Anyone else might be able to completely forget the two-word challenge House had presented, but Wilson couldn't even push it from his mind for a matter of five minutes.

There was something in him that always had to prove himself to House. He wished that he could deny knowing why, but even thought he could lie to House, he couldn't lie to himself. For as many reasons as there were that other people hated House, he could find at least two that he loved about him. And there was the word, the word that haunted his dreams and captivated his thoughts. How he had come to love the one man that everyone else seemed to have no problem despising, he'd never know, but it had in fact happened.

So here he sat, alone in his apartment, contemplating his next move. How would a man make his friend do something even though said friend would emphatically refuse to do anything asked of him? Simple. He had to catch him off guard.

With a grin, and still damp hair, he grabbed his coat and headed out the door. Forty-five minutes later, he was knocking on House's door with beer in one hand and Chinese takeout in the other. He heard the hobbling on the other side of the door before it opened.

Met with a grin from the blue-eyed doctor, he stepped in the door and headed straight for the couch. It only took five minutes for House to break the silence in between bites of lo mein noodles. "So, here so soon to prove your point?"

Wilson kicked back, attempting to hide his grin as he propped his legs on the coffee table, careful to avoid his open bottle of beer. "Nope. Just wanted company while I ate. Besides, there's nothing on television tonight."

"So reruns are just better at my apartment?"

"Reruns are better when I watch them with you."

House raised an eyebrow in Wilson's direction. "Are you trying to sweet talk me into doing something?"

Without looking in House's direction, "Would that work?"

"Nope."

"Then, no."

"But you do have a plan?"

"To eat dinner, drink beer and watch tv? Yes."

"What about-"

"Not worried about it."

"Yeah…riiiiggghhht."

Finally turning to him, "Why is it so unbelievable for me to just want to spend an evening with you?"

"Because challenges fester in your mind. There's no way you can just let this go."

This time, he didn't hide his smirk, "Maybe you don't know me as well as you think you do." He settled back into the sofa, content with the semi-shocked look on House's face. They continued their meal in silence, both pretending to be interested in the CSI reruns playing across the television.

With the empty bottles and containers lying across the coffee table, Wilson stood to stretch as yet another set of credits rolled. It was only then that House asked, "Leaving?"

As he cleared the trash, "Nah. I think I'll just crash here. It's late."

With a curt nod, "Right." He disappeared down the hallway without another word, leaving Wilson to clean up the mess and make up the couch.

It was well into the middle of Wilson's sleepless night when he got up and tiptoed down the hallway toward House's bedroom. He gently pressed the door open from its cracked position to nearly fully open and stepped into the dark room. After his eyes adjusted, he took in the outline of the Vicodin bottle on the nightstand and the cane against the wall within reaching distance of the edge of the bed. It was only then that he let his eyes fall on House's sleeping form. He started at the bottom of the bed, feet and legs outlined by the disheveled plain white sheet, his left fairly straight but the right cocked faintly in order to find the slightest bit of comfort. His eyes moved higher, finding the sheet end just above the waistline and met with a wrinkled t-shirt. House's chest rose and fell in a steady, gentle rhythm, arms were splayed across the mattress and his face held a look of pure contentment.

For a moment he tried to recall if he'd ever seen House at peace like this before. Sadly, in the entire ten-year realm of their relationship, he couldn't recall a single moment. For a split second, he contemplated not going thru with his plan. He could wait for another night. Another opportunity would present itself. But the second came and went, knowing that if he didn't go thru with it, not only would it eat away at him, but another moment would never come.

With determined steps toward his friend, he silently hoped they would not be the last he took toward his current destination. There would be no way they could laugh this off. This was it; make it or break it time.

He eased himself onto the bed, careful not to wake the sleeping man until the right moment. Ever cautious of his injured leg, Wilson straddled House's waist and capture his wrists in his own hands as House jerked awake. A part of him had expected a yell, at the very least a curse, but no noise came with the bewildered look coming from the ocean blue swirling eyes.

Not giving himself time to back out, he captured startled lips with his own. His mind faintly registered the fact that House was not kissing him back, but was befuddled by the fact that he was night putting up any sort of fight either. Confusion was just about to take over when he realized he'd forgotten the actual challenge.

He broke the contact of their lips to growl his command, "Kiss me, damnit."

Even in the dark, he saw the flicker in House's eyes as he lowered his lips back into place and was welcomed this time with neediness. His skin protested with every movement, House's over two day stubble scraping against his always freshly shaven soft skin, but the swirl of emotions coursing thru his body would not allow him to stop. Every sensation was on edge. He could feel House's rapidly increasing pulse under his palms and his pounding heart beating against his own.

Desire burned in the pit of his stomach as he ran his tongue over House's kiss swollen lips that parted begging for entrance. As Wilson's tongue slipped passed his friend's lips he lost himself in the moment. Nothing else mattered. He had dreamed of this moment for years and now he was here, living the dream. The fear of regret and repercussions drifted momentarily into his mind before he quickly pushed the unwanted thoughts away. Nothing else mattered.

He tore their lips apart, pulling back and looking for any sign that he should stop, but found none. Hoarsely, he whispered, "I want you."

Trying to gain control of his breathing, House managed, "I can't feel my hands." As if he had suddenly been burned, Wilson yanked his hands away from House's wrists. As he alternated rubbing one wrist then the other, he explained, "Careful of my leg. Once the pain worsens, I'm done. Not because I want to be, but because I have to be. And you can do whatever you want, but my mouth is not going below your waist, got it?"

Relishing in his turn to be shocked he mumbled, "Got it."

"Good. Condoms and lube are in the drawer of the nightstand. And give me a damn Vicodin. I'll try to prevent my leg from interrupting our first role in the hay."

Still stunned, Wilson reached for the prescription bottle, handed it to the man lying beneath him and then retrieved the mentioned items from the nightstand drawer. He watched as House tossed the amber bottle toward the nightstand and listened to it bounce to the floor, his eyes never leaving the blue ones that were revealing one secret after another.

Decisions soared thru his mind, wondering how the current series of events would change the outcome of the night. Giving in to what seemed like the natural course in their relationship, he tossed the lube and condom onto the bed beside them and locked brown eyes with blue demanding, "Tell me you want this."

Sparks lit in his eyes like shooting stars and a grin formed across his face, "Oh, I want this."

Wilson tore his own t-shirt over his head before yanking at House's. With fervor, his mouth nipped and sucked at the newly exposed skin, only becoming more insistent with each time House arched his body of the bed. More impatient that he'd thought he'd be, he moved to the side to remove the last of his clothing just before yanking the sheet completely off the bed. House's eyes burned the path they trailed over Wilson's body, fully exposed, glistening with a thin sheath of sweat.

A little breathless, Wilson pointed toward the last bit of clothing that threatened to separate them. "Take them off."

Suddenly the expression on House's face changed. "Give me the sheet back."

It had never occurred to him that House would be embarrassed about his scar in front of him. It wasn't like he hadn't seen it before. This couldn't come between them. With his hands in his bare hips, "No." He watched as the ocean blue eyes darkened to midnight and instantly his heart softened. In a whisper, "Trust me."

They stared at each other for what seemed like an eternity before House finally gave in. With slow, deliberate movements, he pulled the clothing from his body and laid back down on the bed, completely naked, his eyes averting.

Not wanting to draw any unnecessary attention to House's leg, he resumed his position on the bed, kneeling beside the body his desired. Leaning over, his lips poised mere inches from House's, he whispered, "Gorgeous." He was shocked when House rose to close the distance between them and continued to push Wilson onto his back.

Just as his earlier words had promised, House hungrily ravished Wilson's body from lips to waist emitting uncontrollable hisses and moans of pleasure from his writhing body. Without warning, House pulled at Wilson's arm, flipping them both over. "Let's do this."

Stunned again, and so turned on he could barely think, he tried to control the pulsing waves in his body with a few steady breaths. His eyes caught House's and realized his turmoil was matched by the man now lying beneath him again. With a devilish grin, "Tell me what you want."

In a near growl, "I gave you a condom and lube. You know damn well what I want."

He had expected a request for a hand job, or a blowjob, but this had never crossed his mind. "You mean…you want…" His voice faded.

A grin spread across his face, "Why are you hesitating?" With a roll of his eyes, his voice rose, "This is your damn fantasy! Just do it!"

Fumbling only a little, Wilson rolled on the condom and lubed up while House rolled onto his hands and knee. The slight wince may have gone unnoticed to others, but Wilson caught the sign of pain. How would he manage in this position? Without spoken words, he grabbed at pillows and propped them under House's right side. A backwards glance from House spoke the only thanks Wilson needed.

Feeling just a small twinge of weirdness, Wilson grabbed at House's hip and pressed into him. The combination of being inside the man he desired and the moan coming from said man's throat nearly sent Wilson over the edge. With a growl he tried to regain his self-control.

With both hands holding firmly to bare hips he stroked in and out of his partner in slow deliberate movements. The husky plea was more than he could deny. "God, Wilson, please." He increased the pace, emitting a pleased growl from House and increased the pressure, pounding into the man that was now begging for more.

As he felt himself begin to pulse, he reached around to stroke House to completion. He heard his name shouted as three waves of hot liquid covered his hand and with one final thrust shouted House's name as he burst inside him.

He was still lost in his orgasm when House spoke, "I have to move." With a little regret, Wilson moved out of the way, flopping onto his back while House struggled to flip himself over.

Once they were both lying next to each other, their breathing having calmed, Wilson asked, "You okay?"

As if it were the most natural thing in the world, "More than okay. That was fuckin' great."

Chuckling a little, "No pun intended."

"Yeah." He laughed at the irony. "So, what took you so long?"

"Didn't take you for the bisexual type. You've never mentioned it before. Besides, I took the risk of screwing our friendship."

"Instead you screwed me. What changed?"

He couldn't stop the smirk. "Like you said, challenges fester in my mind."

"So this was all the challenge?"

"Hell no. This was about the great sex! The challenge just gave me the push."

"Damn. If that was all it was gonna take, I would've challenged you a long time ago."

He shrugged as he got out of bed and headed into the bathroom. He returned and tossed a washcloth and towel in House's direction before flopping back into bed, grabbing the sheet in the process. When he heard the linens hit the floor, "So, we're good then?"

"Best friends. Great sex. What's not good about it?"

He pulled the sheet over his waist before, "'Night House."

"'Night Wilson."

And all was finally right with the world.