Laundry Day, part 1
Title: Laundry Day, in three parts
Author: l57371
Pairing: House/Wilson
Word Count: 6500 give or take
Rating: NC17
Warnings: SEX! And laundry.
Spoilers: None
Summary: Wilson has a VERY bad day.
Disclaimer: Pfft. Still single parent, but I now own a lovely new Mac!
Beta: The infinitely patient
starlingthefool
OMG I just can't shut up.
Mornings at Princeton Plainsboro Teaching Hospital were a bustle of frenetic activity. Shift changeovers meant twice as many nurses and orderlies and cleaning staff on the floor as usual, exchanging patient information and doctor’s orders and general gossip. The clinic also opened then and the morning stream of patients all clamouring to be the first in, or at least quickly out, rushed the desk and seating area.
Mornings at Princeton Plainsboro Teaching Hospital were a bustle of frenetic activity. Shift changeovers meant twice as many nurses and orderlies and cleaning staff on the floor as usual, exchanging patient information and doctor’s orders and general gossip. The clinic also opened then and the morning stream of patients all clamouring to be the first in, or at least quickly out, rushed the desk and seating area.
Lurking in a far corner, close enough to a potted palm to be unobtrusive but not close enough to actually be hiding, stood House. So far nobody had noticed him. To be fair, nobody expected him to be at work that early. He almost never arrived that early without there being a death threat involved, either in the form of his patient taking a turn for the worse or Cuddy promising surgical alterations to his anatomy if he didn’t show up on time. He sipped coffee from a Styrofoam take out cup, grimacing as the cooling bitterness hit his tongue, and watched the door intently.
Finally the door opened to admit the fresh-faced and smiling form of James Wilson, snappy dresser, healer to the sick and all ‘round nice guy. House snorted. Little do they know, he thought, he’s a sneaky bastard at heart, just like me. He noted that Wilson was wearing his first-thing-in-the-morning-smile, the one that said, “Nobody’s died yet and I really am a good guy, this will be a nice day.” Time to wipe the smile off his face.
House emerged from his hiding spot - not hiding, surveillance - and made his way over to where Wilson had been stopped by a solicitous nurse who was doing her best to flirt with him. Wilson, however, was distracted by his attempt to handle both his briefcase and his overcoat in one hand while flipping through the file the nurse held with the other. House sidled up behind her and bent to speak directly in her ear.
“Too early. He’s not open to pick up lines until at least lunch time.”
The nurse jumped and her hands flew to her throat as she whirled around, then jumped backwards when she saw how close House actually was to her. “I wasn’t … I didn’t … I mean, he …” she stammered and finally closed her mouth as a flush crept up her face.
“House, she wasn’t doing anything. Leave her alone,” Wilson said, the smile sliding off his face and exasperation taking its place.
House peered down at the nurse’s face until she got the hint and turned to walk away. “Yes she was,” he said, watching her retreat.
Wilson returned his gaze to the man in front of him. “What are you doing here? What are you even doing out of bed at this hour? Usually you’re still fast asleep for another couple of hours at least.” He closed the file and tried to add it to the load in the other arm, then realized there was still a briefcase in it and gave up.
House turned and started slowly for the elevator, waiting for Wilson to catch up before he spoke. “I was reading my employment contract, and it turns out I’m actually supposed to come to work in the mornings, not the afternoons. Can you believe
“Why no, how astoundingly unreasonable of Cuddy to expect a full work day from you. I’m frankly appalled,” Wilson retorted dryly.
House looked away to hide the impending grin. “I know, it’s crazy, isn’t it? This being made a slave to time thing really is inconvenient. Cuts into my internet porn downloading in a huge way. I may have to hire someone to catch it up for me.” He stopped before he got to the elevator and turned to face Wilson again. “So, lunch today?” he inquired.
“Um, yeah, I think so, I’ll just have to check my calendar.” Wilson started trying to shift the overcoat to the other arm so that he could open the briefcase a bit and dig out the dayplanner that he kept in constant reach.
House took the opportunity to snatch a quick look over his shoulder and spied a runaway toddler heading almost straight for him. Deftly he took a small step sideways to place himself directly in the little diaper bomb’s path. As expected, a second later, he felt the blow to the back of his knees, throwing off his balance and pitching him forward, directly into Wilson. He squeezed the Styrofoam cup to pop the lid off and landed right on Wilson’s chest.
The surprised man dropped his briefcase, which scattered files and papers all over the floor, and dropped the overcoat on top of it to free up his arms to catch House before he fell completely. House smirked a little as he felt Wilson’s arms grab him and stabilize him against his own body. He’d never let me fall, unless it was him doing the pushing, he thought just before completely flattening the flimsy cup between his own large hand and Wilson’s chest, soaking the man’s shirt and tie with coffee.
“You okay?” Wilson said, almost directly in House’s ear.
“Yeah, I think so,” House replied, injecting just the right amount of breathless fear and annoyance into his voice. He got his cane back under him and pushed off of Wilson’s chest, achieving vertical once again. “Now where is that little monster?”
Wilson pulled at his shirt with the tips of two fingers, looking more like he was holding medical waste than his own clothes. “I’m sure he didn’t do it on purpose,” he said absently, looking at the mess of files on the floor. Already a candy striper and the child’s mother were scrabbling to pick up the files and other detritus from the briefcase and shove it all back in.
“I’m sorry, oh, I’m so sorry!” the mother was saying as she herded the child with one hand and pushed the files closer with the other. “He just broke away and I didn’t catch him in time. You know how kids are, sometimes they don’t listen. I’m really sorry, he didn’t hurt you, did he?” She looked up at House from the floor, her expression contrite.
“Not this time,” House growled. “But I don’t hear an offer to pay for Dr. Wilson’s shirt yet. Or my coffee.”
“House, really, it’s okay. I’m sure it’ll wash,” Wilson protested.
“The tie won’t,” House said, eyes still boring into the mother’s.
“Yes, of course, I’ll pay for the tie,” she grimaced.
“No, it’s fine.” Wilson glared at House. “It’s fine!” He grabbed his stuff from the two women and stalked over to the elevator, viciously stabbing the button with his finger.
“I was just trying to help,” House said, eying the stain on Wilson’s shirt speculatively.
“By making a young mother feel guilty about her kid? That’s supposed to help?” Wilson kept his eyes on the floor indicator lights.
“Actually I was hoping she’d pick out a tie for you herself so that I wouldn’t be subjected to any more of your hideous collection.” House glanced sideways and saw a faint smile just beginning to curl the edge of Wilson’s mouth. Score!
“Well now you’re going to have to be subjected to one of the spare ones I keep in my office.”
“And the punishment never ends,” House said. The elevator arrived and the two men boarded.
“You sure the kid didn’t hurt you when he hit you?” Wilson asked, watching House’s face for any signs of pain.
“No, he just got my knees. Knocked me off balance, that’s it.” House could be honest about that one. The doors opened and the men exited. Wilson turned to head for his office and House followed, barging right through the door after him.
“House, I have to change,” Wilson said, dropping the brief case and rummaging through a gym bag under his desk.
“Don’t go changing,” sang House, “To try to please me!”
“Okay, that’s disturbing. Stop it.”
“Oh go ahead. It’s nothing I haven’t seen before.” House flopped down onto the couch and waved a hand in Wilson’s direction. “Come on, take it off.”
“If you reach for your wallet and pull out a handful of singles, I’ll beat you to death with the cane,” Wilson said, starting on the buttons. House snorted a chuckle.
“Did you know,” began House, letting his mouth run without thinking so his brain could concentrate on the show in front of him, “that neckties can be traced all the way back to Emperor Chin’s terra cotta warriors in China?”
As he spoke he watched Wilson undoing his buttons and loosening the tie from his collar. He pulled the shirt tails from the waistband of his pants and shimmied it off his shoulders and down his arms, pausing to undo the cuff buttons as well, then finally letting it slide off his arms completely. He dropped it in the bag and then dropped the tie on top. House felt the familiar stirring in his groin and the low burn building in his stomach, and reminded himself to breath normally lest Wilson notice.
He kept talking. Wilson had noticed the stain had gone straight through his undershirt as well and made a disgusted face as he pull it up and over his shoulders and head, dropped it too in the bag at his feet. Now Wilson was half naked in front of him and House trailed off and stopped talking.
House raked his gaze over the other man’s body, taking in everything at once and then looking away quickly, out the balcony door. He gazed out at the morning but saw none of it. Instead he saw smooth skin and defined muscles, the beginnings of love handles, the sprinkle of chest hair, the outline of pectorals and deltoids. He imagined running his fingertips over the muscles and watching them quiver. He imagined outlining the muscles with his tongue.
“…after the colon cancer remission and then we could - House? House, are you listening to me?” Wilson looked up at his friend.
House shook himself mentally. “Colon cancer, right. And lunch after that. Got it.” He glanced back at the younger man, who was in the midst of knotting his spare tie, expertly and without a mirror. He briefly mourned the loss of the view, but then inspiration struck. “Why don’t you give me the clothes? You can run them through the washer at my place tonight and save yourself the wait from the hotel laundry service. You can bring pizza too.” He snagged the handles of the gym bag with the handle of his cane before Wilson could protest and pulled it close. He pushed himself up from the sofa and grabbed the bag.
Wilson gave him an odd, sideways look. “O - kay. Since when have you been worried about the state of my laundry?”
“Not worried. Just need pizza,” House said over his shoulder as he exited the office quickly, leaving no time for argument.
Wilson chuckled and shook his head.
Author: l57371
Pairing: House/Wilson
Word Count: 6500 give or take
Rating: NC17
Warnings: SEX! And laundry.
Spoilers: None
Summary: Wilson has a VERY bad day.
Disclaimer: Pfft. Still single parent, but I now own a lovely new Mac!
Beta: The infinitely patient
starlingthefool
OMG I just can't shut up.
Mornings at Princeton Plainsboro Teaching Hospital were a bustle of frenetic activity. Shift changeovers meant twice as many nurses and orderlies and cleaning staff on the floor as usual, exchanging patient information and doctor’s orders and general gossip. The clinic also opened then and the morning stream of patients all clamouring to be the first in, or at least quickly out, rushed the desk and seating area.
Mornings at Princeton Plainsboro Teaching Hospital were a bustle of frenetic activity. Shift changeovers meant twice as many nurses and orderlies and cleaning staff on the floor as usual, exchanging patient information and doctor’s orders and general gossip. The clinic also opened then and the morning stream of patients all clamouring to be the first in, or at least quickly out, rushed the desk and seating area.
Lurking in a far corner, close enough to a potted palm to be unobtrusive but not close enough to actually be hiding, stood House. So far nobody had noticed him. To be fair, nobody expected him to be at work that early. He almost never arrived that early without there being a death threat involved, either in the form of his patient taking a turn for the worse or Cuddy promising surgical alterations to his anatomy if he didn’t show up on time. He sipped coffee from a Styrofoam take out cup, grimacing as the cooling bitterness hit his tongue, and watched the door intently.
Finally the door opened to admit the fresh-faced and smiling form of James Wilson, snappy dresser, healer to the sick and all ‘round nice guy. House snorted. Little do they know, he thought, he’s a sneaky bastard at heart, just like me. He noted that Wilson was wearing his first-thing-in-the-morning-smile, the one that said, “Nobody’s died yet and I really am a good guy, this will be a nice day.” Time to wipe the smile off his face.
House emerged from his hiding spot - not hiding, surveillance - and made his way over to where Wilson had been stopped by a solicitous nurse who was doing her best to flirt with him. Wilson, however, was distracted by his attempt to handle both his briefcase and his overcoat in one hand while flipping through the file the nurse held with the other. House sidled up behind her and bent to speak directly in her ear.
“Too early. He’s not open to pick up lines until at least lunch time.”
The nurse jumped and her hands flew to her throat as she whirled around, then jumped backwards when she saw how close House actually was to her. “I wasn’t … I didn’t … I mean, he …” she stammered and finally closed her mouth as a flush crept up her face.
“House, she wasn’t doing anything. Leave her alone,” Wilson said, the smile sliding off his face and exasperation taking its place.
House peered down at the nurse’s face until she got the hint and turned to walk away. “Yes she was,” he said, watching her retreat.
Wilson returned his gaze to the man in front of him. “What are you doing here? What are you even doing out of bed at this hour? Usually you’re still fast asleep for another couple of hours at least.” He closed the file and tried to add it to the load in the other arm, then realized there was still a briefcase in it and gave up.
House turned and started slowly for the elevator, waiting for Wilson to catch up before he spoke. “I was reading my employment contract, and it turns out I’m actually supposed to come to work in the mornings, not the afternoons. Can you believe
“Why no, how astoundingly unreasonable of Cuddy to expect a full work day from you. I’m frankly appalled,” Wilson retorted dryly.
House looked away to hide the impending grin. “I know, it’s crazy, isn’t it? This being made a slave to time thing really is inconvenient. Cuts into my internet porn downloading in a huge way. I may have to hire someone to catch it up for me.” He stopped before he got to the elevator and turned to face Wilson again. “So, lunch today?” he inquired.
“Um, yeah, I think so, I’ll just have to check my calendar.” Wilson started trying to shift the overcoat to the other arm so that he could open the briefcase a bit and dig out the dayplanner that he kept in constant reach.
House took the opportunity to snatch a quick look over his shoulder and spied a runaway toddler heading almost straight for him. Deftly he took a small step sideways to place himself directly in the little diaper bomb’s path. As expected, a second later, he felt the blow to the back of his knees, throwing off his balance and pitching him forward, directly into Wilson. He squeezed the Styrofoam cup to pop the lid off and landed right on Wilson’s chest.
The surprised man dropped his briefcase, which scattered files and papers all over the floor, and dropped the overcoat on top of it to free up his arms to catch House before he fell completely. House smirked a little as he felt Wilson’s arms grab him and stabilize him against his own body. He’d never let me fall, unless it was him doing the pushing, he thought just before completely flattening the flimsy cup between his own large hand and Wilson’s chest, soaking the man’s shirt and tie with coffee.
“You okay?” Wilson said, almost directly in House’s ear.
“Yeah, I think so,” House replied, injecting just the right amount of breathless fear and annoyance into his voice. He got his cane back under him and pushed off of Wilson’s chest, achieving vertical once again. “Now where is that little monster?”
Wilson pulled at his shirt with the tips of two fingers, looking more like he was holding medical waste than his own clothes. “I’m sure he didn’t do it on purpose,” he said absently, looking at the mess of files on the floor. Already a candy striper and the child’s mother were scrabbling to pick up the files and other detritus from the briefcase and shove it all back in.
“I’m sorry, oh, I’m so sorry!” the mother was saying as she herded the child with one hand and pushed the files closer with the other. “He just broke away and I didn’t catch him in time. You know how kids are, sometimes they don’t listen. I’m really sorry, he didn’t hurt you, did he?” She looked up at House from the floor, her expression contrite.
“Not this time,” House growled. “But I don’t hear an offer to pay for Dr. Wilson’s shirt yet. Or my coffee.”
“House, really, it’s okay. I’m sure it’ll wash,” Wilson protested.
“The tie won’t,” House said, eyes still boring into the mother’s.
“Yes, of course, I’ll pay for the tie,” she grimaced.
“No, it’s fine.” Wilson glared at House. “It’s fine!” He grabbed his stuff from the two women and stalked over to the elevator, viciously stabbing the button with his finger.
“I was just trying to help,” House said, eying the stain on Wilson’s shirt speculatively.
“By making a young mother feel guilty about her kid? That’s supposed to help?” Wilson kept his eyes on the floor indicator lights.
“Actually I was hoping she’d pick out a tie for you herself so that I wouldn’t be subjected to any more of your hideous collection.” House glanced sideways and saw a faint smile just beginning to curl the edge of Wilson’s mouth. Score!
“Well now you’re going to have to be subjected to one of the spare ones I keep in my office.”
“And the punishment never ends,” House said. The elevator arrived and the two men boarded.
“You sure the kid didn’t hurt you when he hit you?” Wilson asked, watching House’s face for any signs of pain.
“No, he just got my knees. Knocked me off balance, that’s it.” House could be honest about that one. The doors opened and the men exited. Wilson turned to head for his office and House followed, barging right through the door after him.
“House, I have to change,” Wilson said, dropping the brief case and rummaging through a gym bag under his desk.
“Don’t go changing,” sang House, “To try to please me!”
“Okay, that’s disturbing. Stop it.”
“Oh go ahead. It’s nothing I haven’t seen before.” House flopped down onto the couch and waved a hand in Wilson’s direction. “Come on, take it off.”
“If you reach for your wallet and pull out a handful of singles, I’ll beat you to death with the cane,” Wilson said, starting on the buttons. House snorted a chuckle.
“Did you know,” began House, letting his mouth run without thinking so his brain could concentrate on the show in front of him, “that neckties can be traced all the way back to Emperor Chin’s terra cotta warriors in China?”
As he spoke he watched Wilson undoing his buttons and loosening the tie from his collar. He pulled the shirt tails from the waistband of his pants and shimmied it off his shoulders and down his arms, pausing to undo the cuff buttons as well, then finally letting it slide off his arms completely. He dropped it in the bag and then dropped the tie on top. House felt the familiar stirring in his groin and the low burn building in his stomach, and reminded himself to breath normally lest Wilson notice.
He kept talking. Wilson had noticed the stain had gone straight through his undershirt as well and made a disgusted face as he pull it up and over his shoulders and head, dropped it too in the bag at his feet. Now Wilson was half naked in front of him and House trailed off and stopped talking.
House raked his gaze over the other man’s body, taking in everything at once and then looking away quickly, out the balcony door. He gazed out at the morning but saw none of it. Instead he saw smooth skin and defined muscles, the beginnings of love handles, the sprinkle of chest hair, the outline of pectorals and deltoids. He imagined running his fingertips over the muscles and watching them quiver. He imagined outlining the muscles with his tongue.
“…after the colon cancer remission and then we could - House? House, are you listening to me?” Wilson looked up at his friend.
House shook himself mentally. “Colon cancer, right. And lunch after that. Got it.” He glanced back at the younger man, who was in the midst of knotting his spare tie, expertly and without a mirror. He briefly mourned the loss of the view, but then inspiration struck. “Why don’t you give me the clothes? You can run them through the washer at my place tonight and save yourself the wait from the hotel laundry service. You can bring pizza too.” He snagged the handles of the gym bag with the handle of his cane before Wilson could protest and pulled it close. He pushed himself up from the sofa and grabbed the bag.
Wilson gave him an odd, sideways look. “O - kay. Since when have you been worried about the state of my laundry?”
“Not worried. Just need pizza,” House said over his shoulder as he exited the office quickly, leaving no time for argument.
Wilson chuckled and shook his head.