Fluke

House wakes up as the bed dips, hearing and feeling Wilson struggle with the covers and sliding under them. He scoots over to House's side, pressing his naked body to his back, slinging an arm around him and cupping his genitals, as is his annoying custom, grunting into his ear to announce that he's finally found a comfortable position.

Wilson has been up a little longer to finish a game of chess with his dad, Aaron, something the two of them used to do when Wilson still lived here and that they picked up at every opportunity when Wilson visited. House had wanted to catch up on some sleep, going to bed early. They had been driving for most of the day up from Princeton, the snow slowing them down. And House had been up since 5 a.m. that morning, Lawrie's new tooth not letting them sleep. Now he's sore and tired, even more so after the little sledding trip they took after they arrived, and he is in no mood to linger downstairs.

Wilson's mom Rebecca had actually made him a hot water bottle for the chilly, seldom used second bedroom and a glass of hot milk as a nightcap, which seems to be equal with adopting House as her child. And she had offered to let House and Wilson sleep in and take care of Lawrie in the morning, which House was actually grateful for. She loves and adores her little grandson and obligingly and all too readily serves the little prince hand and foot. One bat of those sweet, big blue eyes and she is piling food and toys at his feet, or picking him up to be carried around. When they are back in Princeton, Lawrie will be a delight, used to all the convenience and the promptness with which his every wish is fulfilled. House isn't looking forward to the battle of wills when Lawrie misses being spoiled rotten.

Wilson presses his nose into House's hair breathing in noisily with an apparently slightly stuffy nose. An undisturbed night is surely out of the question now. It's either scare Wilson off with something really nasty, comment or deed, or get over with it as quickly as possible. Wilson is already starting to press his pelvis into House's back, almost indiscernible, his hand kneading House down there, slowly and gradually firming his grip. He sighs and opens his mouth slightly to nuzzle the hair at House's nape, almost imperceptible.

He is sneaking his way into sex! Pretending to be asleep, creating a situation in which every accidental move brushes something, so no one is able to tell if he does it intentionally or not. Accidentally letting his hands drop near or in the right places and linger. If there is no response, he pretends to shift or readjust in his half-awake state, creates enough friction so sex organs are reacting involuntarily and there has to be done something about it. Not that he could just wake House up and ask him! He has to be sneaky about it.

But House has to admit, it is kind of a turn on, this slow, warm, sleepy caressing and fumbling, goose bumps rising on his skin.

House makes a tiny, sleepy sound in his throat and presses into Wilson's hand, then arches his back, feeling Wilson's pubic hair brush his ass, making another tiny, distressed sound. That's what sets Wilson off. He exhales shakily into House's nape, pressing fully against his back. His hard penis is nudging the inside of House's thighs, brushing his balls and dipping between his folds, already seeking entrance. House releases a harsh breath, tipping his hips back further, hearing Wilson pant near his ear, feeling him swallow, making small digging motions with his pelvis, sliding the tip of his penis over the swollen, moist folds, making House lift one thigh slightly, moaning in time with the strokes. Wilson takes his thigh, carefully arranging House so he's lying on his back, the leg folded against his chest, Wilson still on his side, pelvis in the right position. They look at each other in the almost dark of the room, eyes glinting, bodies slowly moving, open mouths gasping, until Wilson dips his head and brings them together. They ghost over each other's o-shaped mouths, feeling soft, slick lips and hot breath, tongues licking at lips and teeth, dipping inside. House's breathing speeds up and becomes labored as Wilson presses into him, the tip of his penis slipping in just so. Wilson groans helplessly, the hot feeling incredible, the prospect of more dizzying.

Suddenly a hand brushes Wilson's cheek and then grips his chin almost painfully. His eyes snap open and he looks down into House's angrily gleaming ones.

"Where's your condom?" House pants, looking reproachfully at Wilson. "Want a repeat performance of the other night?" Wilson looks at him evenly. Then he lifts his right hand from behind House's head and holds it in front of his face, a little square tin foil packet glinting between his fingers. House narrows his eyes at Wilson's tiny triumphant smirk.

"Do you think it works its magic when you hold on to it really tight?" House snaps but snatches the packet from Wilson and tears it open with his teeth. He turns on his side, gently takes a hold of Wilson's penis and quickly and deftly rolls the condom down, making Wilson hiss with the sensation. Then he pulls a heavily breathing, eager Wilson on top of him and guides his hips between his spread thighs, looking into Wilson's eyes, their noses almost touching. When Wilson enters him in one sudden stroke House can't help a harsh sound from escaping him.

"Sorry!" Wilson whispers, panting, kissing House's open mouth tenderly, stroking his cheek with a trembling hand. He tentatively moves his hips, breathing heavily with the effort not to let go, all the while looking into House's face, taking in his tipped back head and open mouth, listening to his quiet sighs, waiting for his body to adjust and to lubricate. Gradually the slide gets easier and he feels House meet his thrusts, opening up for him. With every new thrust he seems to slide deeper, until he hits the right spot again and again, House's sweet, soft keening in his ears. They're both covered in a fine, sheen of sweat by then, slicking their bodies, delicate slapping of hot, moist, sticky skin coming together. House's eyes are closed, but Wilson can make out the movement of his eyeballs, his lids fluttering. His mouth almost slack, lips parted, showing the gorgeous bow of his upper lip and the tip of his tongue, working against his teeth. Wilson dips down and licks House's lips in time with his thrusts, his movements fluid and swift. House's mouth yields under his, opens, lets him lick inside, offering to taste him and to savor the silky softness. He's never been so turned on in his life by anyone but this man, his best friend, his lover, the birth-father of their sweet baby boy. He loves to watch House when they fuck, loves to listen, to smell, to feel. He buries his nose in House's neck, breathing in his scent, hissing with new arousal as House's essence speaks to his, telling him exactly what to do to him.

They both groan in unison as Wilson picks up speed, House spreading his legs wide, grabbing Wilson's ass, feeling him snap his hips, muscles flexing under his hands, feeling him hit deep inside, deft, sure thrusts, again and again. Until the warm flame inside him suddenly lights up white hot and he helplessly keens and writhes as his inner muscles contract in fast succession and almost violently around the penis inside him, pulling it in deeper, shock waves of dizzying pleasure running through him, taking Wilson with him. He hears Wilson's surprised, breathless, high-pitched moans, feels him holding onto him for dear life, all his muscles working to press his hips into House, press his penis against the cervix deep inside him, holding there, pumping millions of little spermatozoa into the condom.

Wilson lets his full weight sink down on House, slinging his arms around him, squeezing him, kissing and sniffing the dip between his chest muscles, groaning in contentment. He ghosts his lips over smooth skin and stubble to House's lips, kissing them softly. Then he looks into sleepy blue eyes, a slow smile twitching on his lips, mirroring House's, his hands cradling the beloved face, thumbs running over the perfect bow of lips, tenderly dabbing at the fuller, pouty lower lip and leaning down to bite at it playfully. With a parting kiss he carefully gets unstuck from House's belly and reaches between his legs to hold onto the condom when he pulls out his softening penis. He slips off the condom knots it and holds it in front of House's face, smirking.

"The poor little guys slammed their heads up against a wall of hard rubber!" House looks at him in bewilderment, lips parted.

"Are you trying to gross me out?" Wilson exhales a laugh, letting the condom drop to the floor on his side of the bed, picking some tissues off the bedside table to wipe off House's belly.

"Haven't you seen 'Everything you always wanted to know about sex'?" Wilson scoots further down on House, settling between his legs, resting both hands on his lower belly and looking up at him.

"Yah, back in the 70s! And either your quote is severely distorted or just plain irrelevant, no one remembers it! – Oh god, I know! The guys in the tight, white full-body suits with the long tails on a mission to fertilize or die." He pauses, the smugness morphing into impatience. "Are you trying to tell me something with that?" House arches an eyebrow and glares down at Wilson who is stroking soothing circles into his skin.

"I wasn't going to but –." He exhales, presses a hand on House's belly and looks up into his narrowed eyes – full suspicion mode.

"Why don't we forget the condoms, House?" There is a tiny pause and a flutter of eye lashes before House answers.

"Pfff, you already seem to have forgotten all about them! Do you think I enjoy being the one who always has to remind you? If you like sex without latex so much – there two other orifices between us that –"

"And you don't enjoy it? I think your voluptuous moans give it away if I may say so."

"You may not! Get a vasectomy then. Very common, not a big deal. And much less risky and messy than me getting a tubal ligation." House has risen on his elbows, his breathing rapid and shallow. Wilson knows that House feels trapped, knows that he knows what Wilson's going to ask of him. His eyes are wide, brow furrowed, daring him not to speak.

"No, that's not what I meant by forgetting the condoms. I – I want another baby! With you." Wilson watches House let himself fall back heavily into the pillows, his hands pressing into his eye sockets, rubbing, a harsh exhale carrying a bitter laugh. Exactly what he'd expected and dreaded. Apparently it is what they both had expected. Wilson kneels and puts his hands on either side of House's waist, leaning over him. He takes one of House's wrists in his hand and pulls it away from his eye. House lets both arms drop, his head lolling to one side. Wilson leans closer and that's when he sees the moist shine at the corners of House's eyes. He feels a sharp stab in his chest at seeing House so vulnerable. He cups House's face in both hands and kisses him tenderly on the lips and both cheeks.

"What do you want me to say?" House whispers, his voice thick, eyes shining wetly.

"I wish you'd say yes. I know this is a lot to ask, but –"

"No kidding. I think hormones have addled your brain, all bad memories lost to disintegration! I'm so jealous!"

"Maybe. But maybe there are so many good memories that they easily outweigh the others. This isn't something I came up with just now. I've been thinking about telling you since before Lawrie's birth.

"Before you got pregnant I had never even considered having a family. And never in my wildest dreams would I have seen us as that family. Turns out that you are an amazing dad! I watch you with Lawrie and I know we're gonna be fine, I know it's all good. I have this weird confidence that everything will work out o.k. With you there, I'm not afraid of any challenge." He smiles at House, studying his face, seeing the uncertainty and disbelieve there.

"When you got pregnant we both were terrified, everything still so new, and it never occurred to us that it was even possible to begin with. We had some tough decisions to make, you more so than I. I know it wasn't easy. But I never had the feeling that we wouldn't manage. I was so proud, still am. And this time would be different – it would be our choice." He brushes his thumbs over House's cheekbones looking at the lowered eye lashes fanning out, House's eyes unfocused, seeing something beyond the foot of the bed. Wilson slides one hand behind House's head, cradling it, the fingertips of the other lightly stroking his brow and temple.

"You've handled it all so well. You are amazing. You and Lawrie are my life, and I don't want to think about what I'd do if anything ever happened to either of you. I wouldn't want to change a thing and I would do it all over again, including the part where I got you pregnant. And not only because you were incredibly sexy with that baby belly!" He looks sheepishly up into House's eyes that are back on his, a little frown forming between his eyebrows.

"You don't have to say anything now. Or ever. And of course we don't have to start tonight, and if you don't want to, not ever. I just want you to know that I would be up for another kid at some point. Changing diapers, teething, tantrums and everything. Oh, and also weird cravings and mood swings during pregnancy. I promise to slake them and endure them, respectively." He smiles down at House's scowl.

"And what if I said no right now?" House's voice is soft but there is a defiant undertone to it.

"Then I'll accept that. I said I wouldn't want to change a thing. It was true. You can't go wrong here, House, I will not disappear when you say no!" House eyes him warily, taking in his expectant look, eyebrows raised, mouth slightly open, shallow breathing.

"Sure!" He relaxes back into the pillows, exhaling long and slow.

"'Sure' you want another baby, or 'sure' I won't disappear?" Wilson's dumbfounded expression with a tint of hope is heartrending.

"Sure, you won't take no for a no! I know you! You won't stop nagging me about this, I will have to endure your schmoopy comments about babies and your puppy-dog eyes every time we pass a pregnant woman – which will be regularly because we work in a hospital!" House shivers. He gestures for the thick feather bed. Wilson twists and pulls them over them both, lying fully on House again, their naked bodies rubbing together. Then he smirks.

"Yeah, maybe a little. But I'm not having a mid-life-crisis and you won't hear of it again should you say no!"

"Why are you so cheery? I'm saying no and you're smug. Are you making some kind of point? Is this some evil plan at which twisted end I give my consent anyway? Are you screwing with me?" Wilson laughs.

"Why don't you believe me?" House makes a frustrated sound and shakes his head with a quick jerk.

"Because that's what you do! You lecture and nag me until you've manipulated me into giving in!" His caustic tone is almost a comfort for Wilson and a thought comes to him. He narrows his eyes at House.

"Wait a minute! You want me to nag you! You want me to con you into saying yes!" Wilson chuckles with mirth at his new theory. "House, it really would be so much simpler if you just said yes!" He grins wickedly, exhaling a laugh and presses his pelvis down into House's. House let's his head fall back, rolling his eyes. Then the far away and slightly scared look is back in his eyes, the corners of his mouth turned down. Wilson feels his own mirth subside. He leans forward and brushes their noses together tenderly.

"You also know that I can take a no –"

"I already am pregnant!" Wilson pulls back and stares in shock at the side of House's turned away face, taking in his worried look, the shallow breaths betraying his calmness. House looks up at him without turning his head.

"Happy?" There is the tiniest challenge in it. Wilson releases the breath he's been holding.

"How long?" House puts a hand on his brow, rubbing, his voice tired and throaty.

"About three weeks. Took a test yesterday." Wilson carefully slides off House, lying on his side, his hand slipping beneath the covers, coming to rest on House's lower belly. A small smile flashes over his face. But then he looks at House staring at the ceiling, gnawing his lower lip.

"Did you plan on telling me? I mean, you didn't say anything. You even pretended we still need a condom!" Wilson's hurt, confused tone tugs at House's heart.

"I hadn't decided on that. And there hasn't been much time to talk in the last 36 hours."

"Three weeks. This means you were still weaning at that time!"

"Seems we should have started a week earlier with the condoms. Or the interruptus. Either way, it's done now." Wilson sighs, rolling on his back.

"Do you –" He swallows thickly around the lump of fear and premature grief in his throat. "Are you going to terminate?" House's head whips in his direction, a quick intake of breath, fierce blue eyes boring into his, measuring his intentions. Then he lets off, releasing a sad laugh disguised as a harsh exhale, his head turning back towards the ceiling.

"Wilson… I knew you'd be like that!"

"What?! This is a question I have the right to ask! And after our earlier conversation I'm pretty sure I already know the answer! And the fact that you probably didn't even want to tell me actually tells me the answer!" Wilson has propped himself up on his elbow and switched on the bedside lamp, breathing fast, eyes inquiring. House slowly rises, sitting up, turning to Wilson, his eyes gone wide in disbelief and blazing with anger.

"What are you trying to say, huh? That I was gonna hide this from you and get a backdoor abortion? Screw you!"

"NO! House! I know you're scared! And I know this seems to be the same mess we've already been through! I'm sorry! I shouldn't have implied that! I just don't understand why you didn't tell me! And pretended everything was alright!" Wilson has put a hand on House's shoulder blade when he'd tried to scramble off the bed. He exhales shakily, running his fingers up to House's neck.

"I meant what I said earlier, all of it. And if you decide to… if you decide to terminate, I'll still be here! But you have to trust me. You used to trust me!" He looks pleadingly at the side of House's face. House screws his eyes shut, then re-opens them and looks straight into Wilson's eyes.

"I don't want to terminate."

That's when Wilson clenches a hand over his chest, the stab in his chest making it difficult to breath, making him dizzy. He can literally feel his heart flutter. He can hear House say his name, telling him in his doctor voice to take deep breaths, feels his hand on his neck, his fingers taking his pulse. He feels his eyelids being lifted and a penlight being flashed to check his pupils. Then he is pressed flat on his back and House's head is on his chest, presumably listening to his heart and respirations. He feels save, somehow and cared for, his senses returning. House. House is pregnant. His baby is growing inside him. Lawrie's little sister or brother. He feels his face stretch in a broad, goofy smile. They are going to be parents again.

His hands feel for the head lying on his chest, startling House. He lifts his head frowning at Wilson's smiling face.

"Are you giddy? And I don't mean in the being jolly sense, which I can see you are!" He studies Wilson's face, then bringing his hand to his neck again, feeling his pulse.

"I'm fine, House. I feel o.k. now. I was just a bit overwhelmed."

"You had a panic attack! Most likely. We will know more when we visited the hospital to run an EKG and an Echo. I'll drive you." House is about to climb out of bed.

"What? You-you-you think I had a heart attack? That's ridiculous! I eat healthy! And I actually go to annual check ups!" Wilson spreads his hands, looking at House with big eyes. House snorts.

"Yah, no exercise, lots of stress – especially in the last 8 months – they can miss things during those exams and you don't eat half as healthy as you think! Come on, we'll take the scenic route."

When they return from the small and very poorly equipped hospital it's three in the morning. The streets had been mostly clear. They were lucky the young doctor in the ER actually knew who the infamous Dr. House is, making sure they got a quick run-through. Rebecca and Aaron both have waited up on them, relieved that their son did not have a heart attack. They all go to sleep eventually, Wilson spooning House, his hands never leaving House's belly.

When Wilson wakes up around eight, House's side of the bed is already empty. He takes a quick look out the window. It has stopped snowing completely and the sun threatens to break through. He washes up a little, puts on some cloths and shuffles down into the kitchen. In the hallway he can already hear Lawrie's voice babbling away, testing his vocal cords and trying out syllables. He smells coffee and fresh corn bread. The kitchen welcomes him with a high-pitched and delighted squeak from his son, a kiss on the cheek from his mother and a shy kiss on the mouth from his lover. He stands behind House's chair, looking over his shoulder, reading the headlines of the Boston Globe, leaning down to him, smiling at him conspiringly. House is wearing his reading glasses and looks at him over their rim. He sucks in a breath when Wilson slides a hand under his shirt to stroke his belly.

"You won't leave me alone from now on, will you?" House murmurs, voice lowered. Wilson kisses him again, speaking against his lips.

"Do I ever leave you alone?" House smirks at him.

"It's worse when I'm… expecting. You're like a squid." House whispers, taking off his glasses, glancing at Rebecca who is busy making fresh orange-juice.

"I know you like that! I swore to slake your cravings. And I'm not talking about the food part."

"James!" Wilson twitches, feeling caught. "You don't have to be so secretive. I know what's going on here!" She beams at them, wiping her hands on a towel and giving Lawrie back his Tarantula that had landed on the floor.

"How?" Two gaping mouths, two pairs of wide eyes, one brown, one blue look back at her.

"I knew the moment you walked through the door, Greg. Something was different. But of course I couldn't just ask! Now I'm pretty sure. James is all over you all the time. And there is this glow about you. Sorry darling! I didn't mean to be sneaky!" House looks at her in bewilderment, Wilson wondering what else she might have been sneaky about.

"So how long has it been?" Rebecca asks cheerily, setting up Wilson's breakfast.

"Three weeks. So it's all kind of still under the covers." Wilson smiles at his mom, blushing furiously, sitting down next to House.

"Oh, alright then. Do you want me to keep quiet about it?"

"No." House closes his eyes and squirms a little in his seat. "It's alright. Can we not make such a big deal out of this?" He gets up and picks up Lawrie from his high chair, who has been making grabby hands at him and just started to mewl because of the lack of response. He limps over to the counter with Lawrie on his hip and fills some warm tea from the thermos into Lawrie's baby bottle and returns to the table, sinking back into his chair. Lawrie contentedly suckles, lying in House's arm and looks up at his daddy, making low pleased sounds between gulps, unconsciously clenching and unclenching his little fist, pinching House's chest slightly. House smiles down at him. When he feels someone's hand on his shoulder he looks up at Rebecca, looking into her kind brown eyes, Wilson's eyes.

"You'll be fine." She gives his shoulder a squeeze, kisses her son on the cheek once more and leaves the kitchen to give them some room.

Wilson drinks a sip of his coffee and bites into a piece of corn bread. He silently smiles to himself.

"You know, sometimes it's a bit creepy how she does that. She's always known when something was up." He looks at House, studying his tiny smirk until it hit him. "You told her before I entered the kitchen, didn't you? House!"

"Amazing how she can keep a straight face! But still, she told me. She said she heard me in the bathroom earlier and then she put a mug of ginger tea in front of me and said it was for easing nausea." Wilson presses his lips together, nodding.

"My own mother and the love of my life conspiring and then pranking me! Expect payback, honey!" House snorts.

"Yeah, right!" He puts the baby bottle on the table and lifts Lawrie a bit higher on his chest. Lawrie breathes heavily with the effort of reaching for House's nose, and makes his pleased sound, smiling, when House puts his finger to his own nose, raising its tip and showing him what a piggy nose looks like.

He never sees it before the aerosol cream swooshes out of the can and piles on his nose, then in the V of his unbuttoned collar. The smiling lips that kiss his ear promise to have more tricks up their sleeve, saving them for their alone time.

END