Like Lions Do
Title: Like Lions Do
Author: cielo_claro
Rating: PG-13
Pairing: House-Wilson, friendship.
Summary: Takes place after Simple Explanation (but no real spoilers.) House tries to deal, Wilson does his best.
Disclaimer: House, MD is property of NBC/Universal, David Shore, Katie Jacobs, et. al and I am in no way claiming ownership of any characters involved. I intend to receive no monetary benefit from this work and intend no copyright infringement.
A/N: Odd fact, I haven’t seen this episode yet? Anyways, on with the fic…
Like Lions Do
“I’m watching TV,” House spoke around an unlit cigarette clenched between his teeth. The room was dark, but for the flickering lighter clasped in his hand.
“House-”
“Don’t say it, Wilson.” His hand shook as it came to cup the flame, flickering with each tremble that seemed to travel from the tips of his fingers to his crooked elbow and his bad shoulder, all the way up to his chattering, chomping teeth and down to his jangly, knocked knees.
“Whatever it is, just don’t say it.” So he didn’t.
Gently, he took House’s hand in his, and lit his cigarette.
For a fraction of a second, everything was illuminated. The scattered beer bottles, the sweat stained t-shirt, the tired eyes. And then, it was gone.
A/N: Also, I wrote this very quickly and intentionally left a lot out, perhaps a follow up is in order?
Author: cielo_claro
Rating: PG-13
Pairing: House-Wilson, friendship.
Summary: Takes place after Simple Explanation (but no real spoilers.) House tries to deal, Wilson does his best.
Disclaimer: House, MD is property of NBC/Universal, David Shore, Katie Jacobs, et. al and I am in no way claiming ownership of any characters involved. I intend to receive no monetary benefit from this work and intend no copyright infringement.
A/N: Odd fact, I haven’t seen this episode yet? Anyways, on with the fic…
Like Lions Do
“I’m watching TV,” House spoke around an unlit cigarette clenched between his teeth. The room was dark, but for the flickering lighter clasped in his hand.
“House-”
“Don’t say it, Wilson.” His hand shook as it came to cup the flame, flickering with each tremble that seemed to travel from the tips of his fingers to his crooked elbow and his bad shoulder, all the way up to his chattering, chomping teeth and down to his jangly, knocked knees.
“Whatever it is, just don’t say it.” So he didn’t.
Gently, he took House’s hand in his, and lit his cigarette.
For a fraction of a second, everything was illuminated. The scattered beer bottles, the sweat stained t-shirt, the tired eyes. And then, it was gone.
A/N: Also, I wrote this very quickly and intentionally left a lot out, perhaps a follow up is in order?