Fic Post: All About Sex
ooc: Just a bit of warning, this has spoilers for the episode 2x14 "Sex Kills". I've been meaning to get Wilson out and about, and this'll do just fine. It is set in TM-verse, so I do have to tweak a couple things, but it's nothing major.
House is in the kitchen making a sandwich when he hears the knock at the door. His wife isn't home, yet, because it's a weekday and she's got to be at work. He can't remember if she's teaching or saving the world, and as he stuffs a mouthful of peanut butter and bread in his mouth to contemplate with, he hears the knock again and shuffles over to open the door.
His best friend is standing there.
With a suitcase.
Well, shit, House thinks, chewing a bit more on the sandwich. That's the thing about peanut butter, when eaten with bread and without a liquid to wash it down, it tends to make it rather difficult to talk when you need to.
Wilson stares at House, then follows his gaze down to the suitcase, before looking back up at his friend.
House swallows, and flicks his tongue over the roof of his mouth to clear any of the remaining sticky peanut butter, before looking back at Wilson. He's certain that Wilson finally admitted to his wife that he was having an affair, and part of him wants to smack him upside the head because the pretty little blonde from nursing was actually thought to be a lesbian getting it on with the brunette from accounting.
At least, that's what he overhead the redhead from radiology saying last week.
Wilson drops the bomb first. "You were right. It's all about sex. She's been having an affair."
House stares. Perhaps staring isn't the nicest thing to be doing when the person you'd staring at is your best friend who just found out wife number three was diddling the delivery boy while he was off saving the little bald headed circus freaks, but he can't help it. This is Julie that they're talking about, bright, bubbly, slightly anal, wannabe chef Julie, famous for dinner parties with lobster and steak and butter sauce that tasted of garlic and salt and God it was good.
Damn, House swallows the remainder of the sandwich, even though he might be really stalling for words to say and something that won't make him sound like an asshole, which that makes him wonder why the hell does he care because he knows James already knows he's an asshole so there's no real point in exerting the effort. No more lobster, then.
Wilson sighs and House is shocked back into reality and out of the world of sorbet with coffee, and says the first thing he can think of. "You want a beer?"
To his credit, Wilson refrains from totally rolling his eyes, just picks up his suitcase and walks inside as his friend steps back and lets him into the house. He looks around, he hasn't really been here much since they got the place and he's not sure what that says about him as a friend. They've redecorated a bit, but the bookcases all over the place still remain, and he attributes that to the fact that both House and his wife are closet nerds with an appreciation for good literature.
House stalks off to the kitchen after shutting the door and grabs another bite of sandwich before he digs in the fridge for the beers, making a note to add milk to the shopping list. He twists the caps off two bottles of Heineken and tosses them into the trash, before handing one over. "Guest room is down the hall, I'll toss a towel in the bathroom for you."
"Thanks." Wilson says, for both the rare display of hospitality, and the fact that House doesn't drink crappy beer like his soon-to-be ex-wife did, on the rare occasions that it wasn't wine. He takes a drink and runs a hand through his hair, before he pulls off his scarf and coat, walking with all three into the bedroom. "So where's Brittany? I thought she fed you dinner and all that."
"Work," House replies, reminded again of his sandwich, which he limps off to grab, ditching the cane in the kitchen because you can't hold a beer, sandwich, and cane all at the same time. They both return to the living room at the same time, Wilson dropping onto the couch and House doing the same, tossing his bad leg onto the table as he reaches for the remote.
"Saving the world, or teaching?" Wilson asks.
"Don't know, actually," House says, with an amused smirk and a sip of his beer. Beer works to wash down peanut butter too, he's discovered. "She'll call if she's gonna be much later than a half hour, though." He settles on 'New Yankee Workshop' and grins as the sounds of powertools fill the air.
Wilson blinks. "You watch this show, House?"
"Duh," House rolls his eyes and points at the screen with his sandwich, now missing several bite-sized chunks as he speaks while chewing. "Moron, and an electric saw. Only a matter of time before something fun happens."
Sighing, because this is so very like House to watch television just for gore. "You know, Saw 2 just came out on DVD." Wilson says. "You could watch that and avoid the how-to lesson."
"Eh," A shake of his head, another bite of the sandwich. "Not as fun. I thrive off the element of surprise."
"I see."
"Mmmmhmm. Now watch," House slugs back a bit more of the beer. "See what he's doing here? I'm gonna do that with the addition to the house, put in a bay window like that. So it's practically educational, and since I think we'd all prefer that I remain in one piece,"
"Not everyone thinks that." Wilson says with an amused smirk, ignoring the glare from his friend. "Anyways, go on, you're going to play with power tools."
"I think I should know what I'm doing." House finishes, not stopping the glare for another minute, before he's satisfied and turns his attention back to the program. "My wife doesn't need me running around with a missing finger." He almost makes the comment that his wife loves his fingers but that's not very tasteful, a joke about sex when the guy you're with won't be getting any for awhile, so he keeps that to himself.
Wilson is impressed. "So you're actually going to do it, make the addition to the house, then." He smiles, a private smile that he's saved for the moments when House actually gives a shit about something that isn't self preservation or monster trucks on television.
"Of course I am," House raises an eyebrow. "Why, think I was just going to knock out a wall for fun?"
"Wouldn't put it past you. To be honest, I'm surprised you haven't shattered your office wall yet." Wilson takes another sip of his beer and leans a bit back into the couch, staring up at the ceiling.
"Glass is messy." House replies. "But yeah, we're gonna make the addition. Because we can't get rid of any of the other rooms to put in the room for the kid. The gym has to stay, our office has to stay, the guest room, has to stay, for guys like you."
"Guys like me, huh." With a sigh, Wilson runs his hand through his hair. "Guys who can't see the signs of an affair."
"Jimmy," House protests, giving him that look. "Most men don't know if their wives are good enough at hiding it."
That's when Wilson stands up and starts pacing, and House clicks the mute button on the TV, much to his dismay because they were just getting to the good part.
"Most men." Wilson snorts. "Am I most men? I cheated on my second wife, for God's sake, I should have seen the signs."
"No you're not most men." House shakes his head. "You're also a workaholic,"
"Because I didn't want to come home to her anymore!" Wilson snaps back, throwing a hand in the air as the door behind him unlocks and they both turn to see Brittany step inside, obviously lost and confused as to just what in the hell was going on.
"Um," She starts. "Hi, honey. James." A small smile, observing the beers in both their hands and the muted home improvement show on the television. Not to mention the fact that Wilson is slightly pink and irritated and her husband gives her an 'I can explain' look. "I'm just going to go get changed out of these clothes, then I'll start something for dinner."
House watches her walk out of the room and he stands, setting his beer on the table. "Gimme two seconds," he says to his friend, moving down the hall after his wife.
"Greg," Brittany asks, peeling out of her shirt and taking down her hair, obviously lost and confused, but she's willing to wait for the facts before she makes any judgements or assumptions. "What in the hell?"
House pushes the door closed behind them. "He and Julie separated."
"What?!" Brittany turns on him then, mouth slightly ajar and eyes wide. "Why? I mean, we knew they were having problems..."
"She's been having an affair." He leans against the wall and scratches at the scruff on the bottom of his chin. "Months, I would think."
"Jesus Christ," She's in a bit of shock at how someone could do that to someone they cared about, but she knows the world isn't perfect. "Don't vows mean anything to anyone, anymore?"
"Mean something to me," House comments, before he sighs. "I told him he could stay here until he found a place,"
Brittany cuts him off. "Of course he can stay here. He's our friends and that's what we do, we take care of them." She pulls on her UTEP t-shirt in all its bright orange glory. "Have you eaten, sweetheart?" She crosses to him and puts a hand on his chest.
"I made a sandwich," He says. "And I don't think James is gonna be very hungry."
"Well I'll make the offer, just in case." Brittany smiles and leans up to kiss him softly, before he asks her how her day at work was, to which she goes on about how her class is learning so much and it's a kick to work with gifted kids.
House smiles, then turns to walk out of the room, grabbing another two beers on the way back to the living room, handing one to his friend who has now thankfully taken up residence on the couch again, and unmuted the sounds of Norm Abram and a router.
Wilson takes the beer without a word, then drinks a good few swallows of it, not really noticing Brittany walking through to goto the kitchen and start preparing something simple for food.
House thinks back on their conversation earlier, at the nurses station, and he nudges his friend with an elbow. "You wanna talk about it?"
"Not particularlly," Wilson replies, short and simple, before he rests his bottle on his leg and shakes his head. "I really don't know. I mean, what...I should have seen the signs."
House shakes his head. "Nah. You shouldn't have had to think you had to keep watch on her like a damn hawk."
"She was my wife," Wilson says, a slightly pained expression on his face.
"Yeah," House replies. "And you trusted her. She broke your trust. That's not your fault."
"Well then who the hell am I supposed to blame?"
There's a long moment of silence between the two of them, and House watches as Norm demonstrates the proper way to use a router to make decorative edges, cocking his head slightly to the side as he contemplates.
"We still haven't picked out a theme," House says, taking another sip of his beer.
Wilson looks up at him. "Do you know what it is, yet? Normally people don't until they know. Then again, I wouldn't know, as I've never had kids."
With a shake of his head, House looks at his friend. "No, not yet, though our bets are both on a boy." A smirk. "She's not a fan of pink, either."
"How far along is she?"
"Sixteen weeks." House says. "And two days."
Wilson smiles a little at the way House's voice softens at the mention of his unborn child, no matter how unintentional it is, it's there and proof that maybe House isn't a total prick after all. Just to him when it comes to matters of friendship.
"I know that look," House replies, the little gruff indignant voice coming back, as he drinks more of his beer, but it's all an act.
"I don't know why I never had kids." Wilson says, with a shake of his head.
House snorts. "You didn't have enough sex."
Wilson rolls his eyes. Sure, House was probably telling the truth...but he didn't want to think about that right now. So he just took another sip of his beer and settled in to watch the next episode -- how many House had on here he wasn't sure, and wasn't sure he wanted to know. "Not everything is related to sex, Greg."
House takes another sip of his beer. "Yeah, it is."
"No, it isn't."
"Just shut up," A motion at the TV. "And watch the moron, okay?"
fin
House is in the kitchen making a sandwich when he hears the knock at the door. His wife isn't home, yet, because it's a weekday and she's got to be at work. He can't remember if she's teaching or saving the world, and as he stuffs a mouthful of peanut butter and bread in his mouth to contemplate with, he hears the knock again and shuffles over to open the door.
His best friend is standing there.
With a suitcase.
Well, shit, House thinks, chewing a bit more on the sandwich. That's the thing about peanut butter, when eaten with bread and without a liquid to wash it down, it tends to make it rather difficult to talk when you need to.
Wilson stares at House, then follows his gaze down to the suitcase, before looking back up at his friend.
House swallows, and flicks his tongue over the roof of his mouth to clear any of the remaining sticky peanut butter, before looking back at Wilson. He's certain that Wilson finally admitted to his wife that he was having an affair, and part of him wants to smack him upside the head because the pretty little blonde from nursing was actually thought to be a lesbian getting it on with the brunette from accounting.
At least, that's what he overhead the redhead from radiology saying last week.
Wilson drops the bomb first. "You were right. It's all about sex. She's been having an affair."
House stares. Perhaps staring isn't the nicest thing to be doing when the person you'd staring at is your best friend who just found out wife number three was diddling the delivery boy while he was off saving the little bald headed circus freaks, but he can't help it. This is Julie that they're talking about, bright, bubbly, slightly anal, wannabe chef Julie, famous for dinner parties with lobster and steak and butter sauce that tasted of garlic and salt and God it was good.
Damn, House swallows the remainder of the sandwich, even though he might be really stalling for words to say and something that won't make him sound like an asshole, which that makes him wonder why the hell does he care because he knows James already knows he's an asshole so there's no real point in exerting the effort. No more lobster, then.
Wilson sighs and House is shocked back into reality and out of the world of sorbet with coffee, and says the first thing he can think of. "You want a beer?"
To his credit, Wilson refrains from totally rolling his eyes, just picks up his suitcase and walks inside as his friend steps back and lets him into the house. He looks around, he hasn't really been here much since they got the place and he's not sure what that says about him as a friend. They've redecorated a bit, but the bookcases all over the place still remain, and he attributes that to the fact that both House and his wife are closet nerds with an appreciation for good literature.
House stalks off to the kitchen after shutting the door and grabs another bite of sandwich before he digs in the fridge for the beers, making a note to add milk to the shopping list. He twists the caps off two bottles of Heineken and tosses them into the trash, before handing one over. "Guest room is down the hall, I'll toss a towel in the bathroom for you."
"Thanks." Wilson says, for both the rare display of hospitality, and the fact that House doesn't drink crappy beer like his soon-to-be ex-wife did, on the rare occasions that it wasn't wine. He takes a drink and runs a hand through his hair, before he pulls off his scarf and coat, walking with all three into the bedroom. "So where's Brittany? I thought she fed you dinner and all that."
"Work," House replies, reminded again of his sandwich, which he limps off to grab, ditching the cane in the kitchen because you can't hold a beer, sandwich, and cane all at the same time. They both return to the living room at the same time, Wilson dropping onto the couch and House doing the same, tossing his bad leg onto the table as he reaches for the remote.
"Saving the world, or teaching?" Wilson asks.
"Don't know, actually," House says, with an amused smirk and a sip of his beer. Beer works to wash down peanut butter too, he's discovered. "She'll call if she's gonna be much later than a half hour, though." He settles on 'New Yankee Workshop' and grins as the sounds of powertools fill the air.
Wilson blinks. "You watch this show, House?"
"Duh," House rolls his eyes and points at the screen with his sandwich, now missing several bite-sized chunks as he speaks while chewing. "Moron, and an electric saw. Only a matter of time before something fun happens."
Sighing, because this is so very like House to watch television just for gore. "You know, Saw 2 just came out on DVD." Wilson says. "You could watch that and avoid the how-to lesson."
"Eh," A shake of his head, another bite of the sandwich. "Not as fun. I thrive off the element of surprise."
"I see."
"Mmmmhmm. Now watch," House slugs back a bit more of the beer. "See what he's doing here? I'm gonna do that with the addition to the house, put in a bay window like that. So it's practically educational, and since I think we'd all prefer that I remain in one piece,"
"Not everyone thinks that." Wilson says with an amused smirk, ignoring the glare from his friend. "Anyways, go on, you're going to play with power tools."
"I think I should know what I'm doing." House finishes, not stopping the glare for another minute, before he's satisfied and turns his attention back to the program. "My wife doesn't need me running around with a missing finger." He almost makes the comment that his wife loves his fingers but that's not very tasteful, a joke about sex when the guy you're with won't be getting any for awhile, so he keeps that to himself.
Wilson is impressed. "So you're actually going to do it, make the addition to the house, then." He smiles, a private smile that he's saved for the moments when House actually gives a shit about something that isn't self preservation or monster trucks on television.
"Of course I am," House raises an eyebrow. "Why, think I was just going to knock out a wall for fun?"
"Wouldn't put it past you. To be honest, I'm surprised you haven't shattered your office wall yet." Wilson takes another sip of his beer and leans a bit back into the couch, staring up at the ceiling.
"Glass is messy." House replies. "But yeah, we're gonna make the addition. Because we can't get rid of any of the other rooms to put in the room for the kid. The gym has to stay, our office has to stay, the guest room, has to stay, for guys like you."
"Guys like me, huh." With a sigh, Wilson runs his hand through his hair. "Guys who can't see the signs of an affair."
"Jimmy," House protests, giving him that look. "Most men don't know if their wives are good enough at hiding it."
That's when Wilson stands up and starts pacing, and House clicks the mute button on the TV, much to his dismay because they were just getting to the good part.
"Most men." Wilson snorts. "Am I most men? I cheated on my second wife, for God's sake, I should have seen the signs."
"No you're not most men." House shakes his head. "You're also a workaholic,"
"Because I didn't want to come home to her anymore!" Wilson snaps back, throwing a hand in the air as the door behind him unlocks and they both turn to see Brittany step inside, obviously lost and confused as to just what in the hell was going on.
"Um," She starts. "Hi, honey. James." A small smile, observing the beers in both their hands and the muted home improvement show on the television. Not to mention the fact that Wilson is slightly pink and irritated and her husband gives her an 'I can explain' look. "I'm just going to go get changed out of these clothes, then I'll start something for dinner."
House watches her walk out of the room and he stands, setting his beer on the table. "Gimme two seconds," he says to his friend, moving down the hall after his wife.
"Greg," Brittany asks, peeling out of her shirt and taking down her hair, obviously lost and confused, but she's willing to wait for the facts before she makes any judgements or assumptions. "What in the hell?"
House pushes the door closed behind them. "He and Julie separated."
"What?!" Brittany turns on him then, mouth slightly ajar and eyes wide. "Why? I mean, we knew they were having problems..."
"She's been having an affair." He leans against the wall and scratches at the scruff on the bottom of his chin. "Months, I would think."
"Jesus Christ," She's in a bit of shock at how someone could do that to someone they cared about, but she knows the world isn't perfect. "Don't vows mean anything to anyone, anymore?"
"Mean something to me," House comments, before he sighs. "I told him he could stay here until he found a place,"
Brittany cuts him off. "Of course he can stay here. He's our friends and that's what we do, we take care of them." She pulls on her UTEP t-shirt in all its bright orange glory. "Have you eaten, sweetheart?" She crosses to him and puts a hand on his chest.
"I made a sandwich," He says. "And I don't think James is gonna be very hungry."
"Well I'll make the offer, just in case." Brittany smiles and leans up to kiss him softly, before he asks her how her day at work was, to which she goes on about how her class is learning so much and it's a kick to work with gifted kids.
House smiles, then turns to walk out of the room, grabbing another two beers on the way back to the living room, handing one to his friend who has now thankfully taken up residence on the couch again, and unmuted the sounds of Norm Abram and a router.
Wilson takes the beer without a word, then drinks a good few swallows of it, not really noticing Brittany walking through to goto the kitchen and start preparing something simple for food.
House thinks back on their conversation earlier, at the nurses station, and he nudges his friend with an elbow. "You wanna talk about it?"
"Not particularlly," Wilson replies, short and simple, before he rests his bottle on his leg and shakes his head. "I really don't know. I mean, what...I should have seen the signs."
House shakes his head. "Nah. You shouldn't have had to think you had to keep watch on her like a damn hawk."
"She was my wife," Wilson says, a slightly pained expression on his face.
"Yeah," House replies. "And you trusted her. She broke your trust. That's not your fault."
"Well then who the hell am I supposed to blame?"
There's a long moment of silence between the two of them, and House watches as Norm demonstrates the proper way to use a router to make decorative edges, cocking his head slightly to the side as he contemplates.
"We still haven't picked out a theme," House says, taking another sip of his beer.
Wilson looks up at him. "Do you know what it is, yet? Normally people don't until they know. Then again, I wouldn't know, as I've never had kids."
With a shake of his head, House looks at his friend. "No, not yet, though our bets are both on a boy." A smirk. "She's not a fan of pink, either."
"How far along is she?"
"Sixteen weeks." House says. "And two days."
Wilson smiles a little at the way House's voice softens at the mention of his unborn child, no matter how unintentional it is, it's there and proof that maybe House isn't a total prick after all. Just to him when it comes to matters of friendship.
"I know that look," House replies, the little gruff indignant voice coming back, as he drinks more of his beer, but it's all an act.
"I don't know why I never had kids." Wilson says, with a shake of his head.
House snorts. "You didn't have enough sex."
Wilson rolls his eyes. Sure, House was probably telling the truth...but he didn't want to think about that right now. So he just took another sip of his beer and settled in to watch the next episode -- how many House had on here he wasn't sure, and wasn't sure he wanted to know. "Not everything is related to sex, Greg."
House takes another sip of his beer. "Yeah, it is."
"No, it isn't."
"Just shut up," A motion at the TV. "And watch the moron, okay?"
fin