|janecarnall (janecarnall) wrote,|
@ 2010-02-22 22:13:00
Dark Wilson Drabbles: Part 1 of 15
Why does Dark!Wilson work for me? (And a few hundred other fans of that "strange, dark guy".)
I recently read a House/Wilson story in which Wilson, late home from the hospital, is beaten up and badly burned by Amber. It's a lovely Sick!Wilson story, but it seems incredibly OOC for Amber. I love Suffering Wilson/Sarky Yet Caring House, but ... why not just put an OFC in there instead of Amber? It doesn't play off anything subtextual in the series about what we saw of the relationship between Amber and Wilson: it plays off a common anti-feminist motif in general culture that if a man is devoted to a woman it's because she's got her brand on him. I've read dark!Amber stories that worked for me when Amber and Wilson together were screwing House over, because, well, to a certain extent they did.
Sick/suffering!House and sick/suffering!Wilson both work for me (separately or together) because the best sick/suffering stories make actual the (mostly mental) pain they're both inflicting on each other due to being jerks who really can't communicate with each other very well.
Dark!Wilson works for me because the best Dark!Wilson stories turn the subtextual emotional/physical abuse which Wilson inflicts on House in the series into text.
So I pulled down a table of 75 dark!Wilson prompts, and... (The first five all take place pre-infarction.)
The first time Wilson thinks it, he's buried balls-deep inside Doctor Gregory House, who is keening and writhing underneath him.
Earlier that evening, Doctor Gregory House had delivered a paper on diagnostic medicine to a packed room, full to the walls with doctors decades senior to Wilson, hanging on House’s every word. House is a genius: a smart, funny, handsome medical genius. Begging for more.
Wilson stares down and jerks his hips forward, sharply, and House’s mouth opens in a wail of wordless pleasure. It's the first time Wilson ever thinks it, but not the last:
Your ass is mine.
Afterwards, to ensure her silence, Wilson burns his own arm with one of House's cigarettes, and cries. She practically falls over herself promising not to tell.
They had sex in House's bed. The sheets still smell like House. Wilson buries his nose in the pillow and takes deep breaths while he's screwing Stacy. They talked about her dreams, hopes and aspirations. Wilson has dreams, hopes, and aspirations of his own, but he never talks about that, to anyone. Stacy's gorgeous: too good-looking for House.
It's because of that night in New Orleans: he wants to have fucked House's girlfriend, too.
House thinks he can say whatever he wants.
Wilson surfs BDSM sites looking at gags, to have an exact picture when he smiles at one of House's zingers, to know what piece of equipment he would shove into House's mouth, propping his jaws apart, holding that sharp tongue down. He'd buckle the gag behind House's head, and make him wear it for hours. Or tube gags that can be used for force-feeding. Wilson could keep House in one of those for days.
But sometimes, Wilson thinks as he smiles at House, just a used rag and duct tape would do.
More and more, Wilson is thinking about House when he jerks off.
It's harmless: it's even healthy. Fantasies never hurt anyone. House can be a complete jerk. Wilson is just getting some necessary release.
House on his knees, begging Wilson "not to", House in tears because Wilson pissed in his face, House screaming because Wilson has administered twenty strokes of the cane to his back and thighs, House whining through a gag as Wilson fucks him...
These thoughts let Wilson come harder and help him keep smiling.
He was much further out than he thought, and not coming but drowning.
House in real pain isn't much like Wilson's fantasies. He's paler, sweatier, savagely bad-tempered.
Stacy leaves him three weeks out of hospital. Wilson isn't even sure which of them finally ended it - or if they know.
Wilson is effectively living with House for three months during which his second marriage dies. Although he has been unfaithful to Bonnie throughout their marriage, the nurse he admits to screwing was taking up an hour or so during the working day, not evenings or nights: spent watching House.
House in real pain exceeds all Wilson's expectations: and he eats Vicodin. Good times.