Fandom: House M.D.
Rating: PG-13 for language and implied adult themes
Disclaimer: Not mine. I only steal them sometimes for fun.
Note: It is actually House/Wilson centric, with some references to adult situations and possible slash, if you want to see it that way.
"You can't be serious," but even before Wilson finishes, House has already sped up and limps towards the lot where his Honda is parked.
The innocent paper plane has been neatly ripped into pieces, and Wilson finds himself wondering if he will be able to repair the damage by simply gluing the remnants together once more.
His lunch has gone missing again.
"You're soaked," he states, but instead of offering his friend the towel he is holding, Wilson approaches House carefully and begins to dry the older man's dripping wet hair himself.
"It's nice out here," you tell Wilson pleasantly, but your head already swims with too long forgotten memories while your cane gently toys with the sand beneath your naked feet.
He tenses when he catches a glimpse at House' newest possession.
Nobody thinks about asking the right questions, and the whispered "Later," in his ear does little to prevent the shiver of anticipation Wilson feels.
"Now that's a loaded question, my little boy wonder... you should start a survey."
The beanie has been draped over his eyes, and there's a giant red scarf slung around his neck, but otherwise, House doesn't seem to mind the cold any more than Wilson does while they're sitting next to each other on the balcony in comfortable silence.
"I'm... I mean, I have -" but he's silenced when he sees the look of pure, unconcealed astonishment on House' face.
The gas is out for good, but Wilson suggests a cozy place right 'round the corner.
House gazes up from his position on the ground when the door swings open with a horrible squeak, but all he sees is darkness.
In an instance, Wilson's arms are around him, holding on for dear life.
"Only you would stand outside for three whole hours," House observes dryly, but he lets Wilson in, even offers a luke warm beer as a somewhat awkward sign of peace.
"Please don't tell me that's your grandfather."
When House finally leaves his office, Wilson takes a chance and makes a grab for the picture his friend has been doodling on for the last hour... but he's disappointed to see a giant, black sheep drawn on the paper.
Wilson hears the tell-tale rustling of road maps and fears the worst for them.
"Oh, would you drop it... I'm not the one who needs to be locked up at night because someone couldn't keep a secret."
"What's with the mask?"
The journey's been a long one, and House is glad to fall (cautiously, of course) right onto the bed with little more than sleep in mind.
He doesn't acknowledge the tentative hand on his shoulder, and so they never speak of it again.
"Didn't mean to upset you, I just... couldn't see the light anymore."
It's not even dawning yet, but House and Wilson both know the deal will expire today.
Wilson takes a long gulp from his water glass and sets it back down on the tray, slightly sweating but otherwise composed, while House sits idly next to him and wonders just how he has managed to get himself in the middle of this unbelievable mess.
House doesn't get to win the war often anymore.
"House... show me your fingers," and he does, but all Wilson sees are a few lone crumbs of what would have been considered a cookie once.
It's the thrill of the unknown that makes him take the first step.
"You're in trouble, mister."
Maybe he could have prevented tossing his last meal all over the shiny new shoes Wilson has been wearing with pride, but he hasn't been very fond of them from the start - which sucks for Wilson, really.
The phone stares at him shamelessly, but his bloody and cold, numb fingers shake too damn much to punch in the familiar number one last time.
"You did not just give me... ah, nevermind."
When he finally does laugh, it's almost as if the last weeks have never happened.
Because words cannot even come close to express whatever this foolish bastard means to him, Wilson opts to choose actions for once.
It's not only going past speed limit that pisses him off.
"I am not having this conversation anymore... no, House, listen... no - I will not participate in anything that resembles something involving you, me and... her!"
He nearly misses the quiet peace of home now.
"There's no way that you are old enough to appreciate the irony," House scolds him, but the light gleaming in his eyes makes his amusement all the more evident.
It's happening every once in a blue moon, though neither knows how to handle the unexpected situation.
House' teasing words have hit closer to home than he could possibly imagine - but Wilson forces out a laugh and waves dismissively, not even attempting to stop the wheels in House' mind from turning.
"I'm here, House," he breathes, and gives the hand tightly linked with his a gentle squeeze.
"You've never been to the fair before?"
Wilson keeps fidgeting, so House has to take over the proper positioning of the tie around his neck.
It's only a matter of time before the low hits him again, but for now, Jimmy is content to be exactly were he is.
"Well... someone has to be the responsible one, House... and since you obviously fail in that department, I'm the one who cleans up the mess after you smash your portable TV -" "Nice try, but I already did that once, and you were not there."
Atlantic City isn't all that far away, Wilson decides, as he begins to throw random clothes into the suitcase with much more force than his poor silk ties deserve.
He doesn't have too look at it to know how nasty it really is, but Wilson is not going to break the promise he made a long time ago.
It's chilly out on the balcony, and he's sure House will stay inside... but then he sees a dark, sinister shadow sneaking past him and vanishing just as quickly as it has come, and Wilson is torn between following his best friend into the warmth or staying in the cold... he doesn't do either in the end.
"Cheers, House... happy New Year to you," he whispers and drowns the rest of the bottle alone.
One day, House muses sullenly, one day and everything falls to pieces.