September 20, 2006
723 words
Note: not betaed. First time writing House. Short. Really short.
Written for Mireille, because of the conversation we had the night after
the episode. *g*
* * *
"I don't understand what's got you so worked up," House said.
"She gave you a *calendar*!" Wilson followed House into his office, waving at the wall where House had displayed the item in question.
"Yes." House kept his voice down, as if he was talking to a five year old. "She did. Are you jealous?"
"NO!"
House just stared at Wilson, eyebrows raised, and leaned on his cane.
"Okay, yes," Wilson admitted. He pinched his nose, taking his eyes away from House.
"Why?"
"She's-she's young and-and-pretty-and blonde and-and-"
"A woman?"
"Yes!" Then, "No!"
"Which one is it? Yes or no? You can't have it both ways."
Wilson sighed heavily and sat down on a chair, leaning his elbows on his knees. "Yes, because she's a woman."
House sat at his own desk chair, picking up his ball and throwing it on the wall. "You're the one who broke up with me, remember?" he asked, catching the ball and throwing it again.
Wilson glared. "*You* broke up with me, not the other way around. I didn't want this."
"I definitely remember you breaking the rule, the only rule we agreed on before-getting into this," House said, his eyes never leaving the ball as he threw it against the wall again and again. "What was it?"
"No lies," Wilson whispered, looking down at the floor. "Everybody lies."
House snickered, and put the ball back on his desk. "That's why we made that rule up," he said, slowly turning back to watch Wilson. "You, teaming up with Cuddy, and lying to me, it's-"
"It's like cheating on you." Wilson couldn't look up, and he kept his voice low.
"Yeah, like that." House stood and reached for his cane. "I just don't get why you thought-"
"I believed it would help," Wilson admitted. "I was wrong. I'm-" Pause.
"Come on, you can say it."
Wilson looked up. "You can't, so why should I?"
"Because you're the one who's in touch with his emotions here," House said vehemently. "Saying I'm sorry shouldn't be so hard, unless you don't mean it."
"I do!"
"Then say it!"
"You are a pain in the ass," Wilson sneered, shaking his head.
Smiling, House tapped his cane against Wilson's knee. "Your ass, yeah. I *like* being a pain in your ass."
Wilson laughed, then turned serious again. "I'm sorry. I really am. I still think we shouldn't indulge you, but I guess that's your call."
House brought a chair closer, sitting down. "You think you can cure me of all my bad habits, but you should know better." He hooked the cane around Wilson's neck and pulled him closer. "I don't think it's in your interest to try."
"Why not?"
"Because then I'll be cured of you." House pressed his lips against Wilson's. He let go of the cane, and put his hand on Wilson's neck instead, drawing him even closer as they kissed. It was messy and harsh and unforgiving. Exactly how they both liked it.
Wilson pulled away, panting slightly. "Will you get rid of that calendar?"
House pouted. "But it's so pretty."
Snickering, Wilson moved out of House's reach. "I'm sorry for what I did, but I'm not touching you again until that *thing* is gone."
"You're no fun," House said, standing and hopping to his desk. He tore the calendar off the walk and dropped it into the garbage can. "There. Done. Can I get another kiss now?" He wiggled his eyebrows and smiled when Wilson laughed.
"You are insane," Wilson said, walking to House's side, and pulling him down for a quick kiss.
"Yeah, but you like me that way," House replied, sitting down on his chair.
"I'll see you later?"
"Sure, I'll give you a call when I'm done."
"I'll cook some dinner."
House smiled, moaning softly. "I knew there was a reason I liked you."
Shaking his head, Wilson left the office. House followed him with his eyes, and when he couldn't see him anymore, turned back to the garbage bin, picking up the calendar and dusting it off. He looked around, making sure nobody was watching him, and opened a drawer. He put the calendar into it carefully, moving some papers to hide it. Satisfied, he closed the drawer, and leaned back into his chair.