Thursday Night is Movie Night
For as long as he could remember, Thursday night had always been movie, pizza, and beer night with House. House provided the television and the movie, while Wilson provided the beer and the food. You know, the pricey stuff.
As Wilson walked unsteadily up the sidewalk to House's door, his arms weighed down with drinks and food, he silently hoped House had chosen a film with a little more substance than last weeks "Gaytanamo Bay." Wilson was all for a good porno now and then, but that monstrosity had been some of the filthiest he'd ever seen. Borderline grotesque really, and Wilson shuddered just thinking about it as he kicked House's door.
A few agonizing minutes later, House opened the door, acknowledged Wilson's presence with a nod, and limped his way back over to the couch without offering any help. Not that Wilson should have expected him to, but just one of these times....well, it would be nice.
Wilson stepped inside and and kicked the door shut behind him. He meandered his way over to the couch, where he loudly dropped the food and beer onto the coffee table, slipped out of his jacket, and plopped down onto the couch.
"Thanks for helping me with that," Wilson mumbled, grabbing a beer and twisting the cap off. House ignored him and reached for the remote.
"Bad news," House said as he turned the power on the television. "All the good porn was taken. So, naturally, I had no idea what else would entertain you, so I asked the air-headed young person behind the counter for a suggestion."
Wilson perked up at this. Air-headed young people liked romantic comedies. Wilson loved romantic comedies.
House tossed the empty DVD case at Wilson, who picked it up and raised an eyebrow.
"Twilight?" He flipped the case over. "What the hell is this?"
House shrugged and pressed play. "Damned if I know. The girl said it was the 'best movie ever', which means that it's probably awful, which to me means that you'll probably like it. I was trying to be thoughtful." House gave Wilson an exaggerated pout and grabbed a box of Chinese food.
Twilight, as it turned out, was a nauseatingly unrealistic high school romance movie starring Vampires. If there had been a deeper plot, it was lost on House, who had fallen asleep within the first ten minutes.
Wilson, however, remained on the edge of his seat, biting nervously on his nails, completely terrified.
Wilson hated vampires. They scared the shit out of him, though he'd never admit it. However, he had always taken comfort in the fact that:
a. Vampires couldn't go out during the day. And since Wilson had no life, and was always in bed by 9pm, they didn't pose much of a threat to him in that regard.
and
b. Vampires had large fangs and other such obvious features, such as looking un-dead, to name just one off the top of Wilson's head. This comforted Wilson, since he assumed that if he did ever see a vampire, he would know with enough time to start running away.
But, Twilight! Twilight was showing Wilson that that vampires looked normal. They didn't even have fangs! And what was worse was that they could walk around during the day without anyone even knowing what was walking amongst them.
Wilson felt his legs begin to shake. Sure, if these vampires went into the sun, they ~*~dazzled~*~ but so what? How many times had Wilson treated patients that were covered in glitter? Too many to count off the top of his head, and for all he knew, it hadn't been glitter at all. It had been the skin of a killer.
Wilson felt sick. Jersey was a great place for vampires to live, too. It was covered in a thick layer of smog ninety-nine percent of the time, so natural sunlight wouldn't be an issue for them here. It wasn't much different than Forks, Washington when it came down to it, except for the amount of precipitation, Wilson supposed.
Wilson swallowed heavily, and reached for another beer.
By the end of the movie, Wilson was convinced that Jersey was infested by Cullen-esque vampires. He looked over at House, who was snoring loudly, pieces of fried-rice down the front of his shirt.
House could be a vampire, Wilson thought, moving himself further down the couch. He was basically a genius, after all. Gorgeous as hell, and he had eyes that Wilson could get lost in for hours. They were inhumanly beautiful. And, sure, he was sleeping right now, but he could just as easily be faking it. Wilson had seen this first hand, almost every time House was supposed to have been working.
By the time his leg had stopped shaking, Wilson had bitten all of his nails as far down as they could go.
He reached for his sixth beer.
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
The next morning, House briefly looked up from his PSP to watch Wilson walking into the kitchen, dark circles of sleeplessness under his eyes.
"You look like shit." House smiled slightly and went back to his game.
"Thanks. Couldn't really sleep." Wilson walked over to the coffee pot and poured the remainder of the ground-filled liquid into the only clean mug (he hoped it was clean, anyways) he could find in the cupboard.
"Don't tell me Twilight scared you? That was the worst movie I've ever seen. Worse than Rain Women. And that was bad. Didn't even get a rise out of me, if you catch my drift."
"That's...lovely. I'm going to work."
"I'm not. Called in. Horrible explosive bowel movements. Must have ate something that didn't agree with me."
Wilson rolled his eyes. "Right."
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
Wilson walked into work feeling a bit more neurotic than usual. He was questioning everyone's possible Vampirism as he passed them in the lobby. Twilight was the worst thing that had happened to him since...well, since ever really. As if he didn't have enough stress in his life...
He only felt a bit of relief upon remembering that if his patients had been vampires, they wouldn't have been able to get cancer. Upon rationalizing that, he felt good enough to grab a real cup of coffee from the cafeteria before heading to his office, where he was now convinced he'd be safe until work.
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
He was at the condiment station when he first saw him. Biting off the tops of Splenda packets when he convinced himself that he was hallucinating. Lack of sleep was obviously playing games with his mind. He slowly placed the lid back on top of his cup and picked it up, laughing at his stupidity as he turned toward what he thought he had seen.
Only, he was still there. He being Edward Cullen.
No way! Wilson began chewing on his lower lip. That was just a movie. Edward can't be real. That's...ridiculous.
Wilson looked around the cafeteria, to see if anyone else was seeing him too. Odds are they weren't, because if the movie had been any sort of clue, if any of the women in this hospital had seen him, they'd be all over him by now, panties left back at the door. And, as Wilson scanned his eyes around the room, everyone was indeed minding their own business.
He brought his coffee up to his lips, returning his glance towards Edward. Their eyes locked, and Wilson tilted his head back, taking a sip. Where was the Bailey's when you needed it? When he lowered his cup, Edward was gone.
~*~*~*~*~*~*~
A few hours later, after his third patient had left, leaving a handful of snot filled tissues on top of his desk, Wilson kicked his feet up, and loosened his tie. He had managed to choke down eight cups of coffee, and was feeling much more awake now than he had been when he had first arrived at work.
But, feeling awake doesn't mean a nap isn't in order. So, after making sure he had some time without patients, Wilson decided to take a short nap. He closed his eyes, and leaned back in his chair, resting his arms behind his head. He let out a relaxed sigh, and began to think of House.
(Wilson would never admit it, even to himself, but he did this in hopes that he would somehow dream of House. And, that somehow these dreams would be really, really hot.)
The sun blaring in through his windows was making sleep difficult, so Wilson sat up, fully intent on shutting the blinds when he saw him again.
Only this time, Edward was on the porch, pressed up against the sliding glass door to his office. Hands pressed firmly against the cool door, his breathing leaving marks of fog on the glass.
Wilson jumped up from his chair, and began jumping around his office screaming. He stopped eventually and peered through the fingers of the hands he had brought up to his face, and noticed Edward was still there. He looked around him, and picked up the nearest object -which happened to be a book- and chucked it as hard as he could against the door. The glass shattered (it was a very large book) and Edward disappeared.
"And stay away you asshole freak!" Wilson was hysterical now, He turned towards his desk, placed his hands on the balled up tissues, not even caring about the obvious gross, and lowered his head. He tried to regulate his breathing.
Calm down Wilson, calm down. This is insane. You are insane...You really, really need to calm down.
Upon that realization, Wilson remembered that he had some marijuana in his desk drawer. Normally, he wouldn't tap in to his patient's medication, but this was a special situation. He needed to relax, and that seemed to be the only option. He straightened himself up, only to find himself face to face with Edward, who was already inhaling a blunt, his golden eyes staring right into Wilson.
Wilson began to slowly back up, but Edward was extremely fast and managed to move around the desk and grab his arm before Wilson could do much of anything.
"W-What d-d-do you w-want?" Wilson was practically crying, shaking so hard he could barely speak.
Edward removed the blunt and handed it to Wilson. "Just relax," his voice was beautiful and when he passed it to Wilson, Wilson jumped at the absolute chill to Edward's skin.
Wilson brought a shaky hand up to his mouth and inhaled.
Edward smiled as Wilson exhaled the cloud of smoke in his face. "Better?"
Wilson closed his eyes and smiled slightly as he felt the chemical take over.
Edward reached out and ran an ice cold finger down Wilson's cheek. "Good. I need you to to be relaxed when I do this."
Wilson opened his brown eyes, and stared into Edward's topaz ones. "Relax?"
"It's just," Edward placed his hands tightly on Wilson's shoulders. "You smell so good."
Wilson snapped back to reality, as Edward placed a hand in his hair and pulled his head back. "Wait! P-please! Don't do this. D-don't!"
Edward leaned in, and Wilson felt his breath against his neck. "PLEASE. PLEASE, JUST LEAVE ME ALONE!" Wilson struggled, but he knew he would be no match for Edward. He had learned that last night.
Edward just laughed and bit down.
Wilson screamed.
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
"Wilson!"
Wilson jumped to his feet and balled his fists, punching the air. "Get away from me you asshole. Get away!"
House grabbed the television remote and tossed it at Wilson's head. "Will you calm down? You're ruining the movie! Cost me five bucks to rent you know."
Wilson shook his head, and brought his hands up to his eyes, rubbing them. "Where...what?" He ran his hand down his neck, expecting to see blood on his hands, only there was nothing.
"I didn't get bit?"
House raised an eyebrow and glanced over at the empty beer bottles on the coffee table. "How many of those did you drink? Lightweight. No, you didn't get bit. You fell asleep almost as soon as I put this piece of shit in. I knew I should have got The Magic Bed 4 as antique as it is."
Wilson slowly sat back down on the couch and watched as the credits began to roll up the screen.
So it had all been a dream then.
He turned towards House, and felt his stomach grumble.
But if that was true, why did House smell so damn good?
~*~FIN~*~
As Wilson walked unsteadily up the sidewalk to House's door, his arms weighed down with drinks and food, he silently hoped House had chosen a film with a little more substance than last weeks "Gaytanamo Bay." Wilson was all for a good porno now and then, but that monstrosity had been some of the filthiest he'd ever seen. Borderline grotesque really, and Wilson shuddered just thinking about it as he kicked House's door.
A few agonizing minutes later, House opened the door, acknowledged Wilson's presence with a nod, and limped his way back over to the couch without offering any help. Not that Wilson should have expected him to, but just one of these times....well, it would be nice.
Wilson stepped inside and and kicked the door shut behind him. He meandered his way over to the couch, where he loudly dropped the food and beer onto the coffee table, slipped out of his jacket, and plopped down onto the couch.
"Thanks for helping me with that," Wilson mumbled, grabbing a beer and twisting the cap off. House ignored him and reached for the remote.
"Bad news," House said as he turned the power on the television. "All the good porn was taken. So, naturally, I had no idea what else would entertain you, so I asked the air-headed young person behind the counter for a suggestion."
Wilson perked up at this. Air-headed young people liked romantic comedies. Wilson loved romantic comedies.
House tossed the empty DVD case at Wilson, who picked it up and raised an eyebrow.
"Twilight?" He flipped the case over. "What the hell is this?"
House shrugged and pressed play. "Damned if I know. The girl said it was the 'best movie ever', which means that it's probably awful, which to me means that you'll probably like it. I was trying to be thoughtful." House gave Wilson an exaggerated pout and grabbed a box of Chinese food.
Twilight, as it turned out, was a nauseatingly unrealistic high school romance movie starring Vampires. If there had been a deeper plot, it was lost on House, who had fallen asleep within the first ten minutes.
Wilson, however, remained on the edge of his seat, biting nervously on his nails, completely terrified.
Wilson hated vampires. They scared the shit out of him, though he'd never admit it. However, he had always taken comfort in the fact that:
a. Vampires couldn't go out during the day. And since Wilson had no life, and was always in bed by 9pm, they didn't pose much of a threat to him in that regard.
and
b. Vampires had large fangs and other such obvious features, such as looking un-dead, to name just one off the top of Wilson's head. This comforted Wilson, since he assumed that if he did ever see a vampire, he would know with enough time to start running away.
But, Twilight! Twilight was showing Wilson that that vampires looked normal. They didn't even have fangs! And what was worse was that they could walk around during the day without anyone even knowing what was walking amongst them.
Wilson felt his legs begin to shake. Sure, if these vampires went into the sun, they ~*~dazzled~*~ but so what? How many times had Wilson treated patients that were covered in glitter? Too many to count off the top of his head, and for all he knew, it hadn't been glitter at all. It had been the skin of a killer.
Wilson felt sick. Jersey was a great place for vampires to live, too. It was covered in a thick layer of smog ninety-nine percent of the time, so natural sunlight wouldn't be an issue for them here. It wasn't much different than Forks, Washington when it came down to it, except for the amount of precipitation, Wilson supposed.
Wilson swallowed heavily, and reached for another beer.
By the end of the movie, Wilson was convinced that Jersey was infested by Cullen-esque vampires. He looked over at House, who was snoring loudly, pieces of fried-rice down the front of his shirt.
House could be a vampire, Wilson thought, moving himself further down the couch. He was basically a genius, after all. Gorgeous as hell, and he had eyes that Wilson could get lost in for hours. They were inhumanly beautiful. And, sure, he was sleeping right now, but he could just as easily be faking it. Wilson had seen this first hand, almost every time House was supposed to have been working.
By the time his leg had stopped shaking, Wilson had bitten all of his nails as far down as they could go.
He reached for his sixth beer.
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
The next morning, House briefly looked up from his PSP to watch Wilson walking into the kitchen, dark circles of sleeplessness under his eyes.
"You look like shit." House smiled slightly and went back to his game.
"Thanks. Couldn't really sleep." Wilson walked over to the coffee pot and poured the remainder of the ground-filled liquid into the only clean mug (he hoped it was clean, anyways) he could find in the cupboard.
"Don't tell me Twilight scared you? That was the worst movie I've ever seen. Worse than Rain Women. And that was bad. Didn't even get a rise out of me, if you catch my drift."
"That's...lovely. I'm going to work."
"I'm not. Called in. Horrible explosive bowel movements. Must have ate something that didn't agree with me."
Wilson rolled his eyes. "Right."
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
Wilson walked into work feeling a bit more neurotic than usual. He was questioning everyone's possible Vampirism as he passed them in the lobby. Twilight was the worst thing that had happened to him since...well, since ever really. As if he didn't have enough stress in his life...
He only felt a bit of relief upon remembering that if his patients had been vampires, they wouldn't have been able to get cancer. Upon rationalizing that, he felt good enough to grab a real cup of coffee from the cafeteria before heading to his office, where he was now convinced he'd be safe until work.
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
He was at the condiment station when he first saw him. Biting off the tops of Splenda packets when he convinced himself that he was hallucinating. Lack of sleep was obviously playing games with his mind. He slowly placed the lid back on top of his cup and picked it up, laughing at his stupidity as he turned toward what he thought he had seen.
Only, he was still there. He being Edward Cullen.
No way! Wilson began chewing on his lower lip. That was just a movie. Edward can't be real. That's...ridiculous.
Wilson looked around the cafeteria, to see if anyone else was seeing him too. Odds are they weren't, because if the movie had been any sort of clue, if any of the women in this hospital had seen him, they'd be all over him by now, panties left back at the door. And, as Wilson scanned his eyes around the room, everyone was indeed minding their own business.
He brought his coffee up to his lips, returning his glance towards Edward. Their eyes locked, and Wilson tilted his head back, taking a sip. Where was the Bailey's when you needed it? When he lowered his cup, Edward was gone.
~*~*~*~*~*~*~
A few hours later, after his third patient had left, leaving a handful of snot filled tissues on top of his desk, Wilson kicked his feet up, and loosened his tie. He had managed to choke down eight cups of coffee, and was feeling much more awake now than he had been when he had first arrived at work.
But, feeling awake doesn't mean a nap isn't in order. So, after making sure he had some time without patients, Wilson decided to take a short nap. He closed his eyes, and leaned back in his chair, resting his arms behind his head. He let out a relaxed sigh, and began to think of House.
(Wilson would never admit it, even to himself, but he did this in hopes that he would somehow dream of House. And, that somehow these dreams would be really, really hot.)
The sun blaring in through his windows was making sleep difficult, so Wilson sat up, fully intent on shutting the blinds when he saw him again.
Only this time, Edward was on the porch, pressed up against the sliding glass door to his office. Hands pressed firmly against the cool door, his breathing leaving marks of fog on the glass.
Wilson jumped up from his chair, and began jumping around his office screaming. He stopped eventually and peered through the fingers of the hands he had brought up to his face, and noticed Edward was still there. He looked around him, and picked up the nearest object -which happened to be a book- and chucked it as hard as he could against the door. The glass shattered (it was a very large book) and Edward disappeared.
"And stay away you asshole freak!" Wilson was hysterical now, He turned towards his desk, placed his hands on the balled up tissues, not even caring about the obvious gross, and lowered his head. He tried to regulate his breathing.
Calm down Wilson, calm down. This is insane. You are insane...You really, really need to calm down.
Upon that realization, Wilson remembered that he had some marijuana in his desk drawer. Normally, he wouldn't tap in to his patient's medication, but this was a special situation. He needed to relax, and that seemed to be the only option. He straightened himself up, only to find himself face to face with Edward, who was already inhaling a blunt, his golden eyes staring right into Wilson.
Wilson began to slowly back up, but Edward was extremely fast and managed to move around the desk and grab his arm before Wilson could do much of anything.
"W-What d-d-do you w-want?" Wilson was practically crying, shaking so hard he could barely speak.
Edward removed the blunt and handed it to Wilson. "Just relax," his voice was beautiful and when he passed it to Wilson, Wilson jumped at the absolute chill to Edward's skin.
Wilson brought a shaky hand up to his mouth and inhaled.
Edward smiled as Wilson exhaled the cloud of smoke in his face. "Better?"
Wilson closed his eyes and smiled slightly as he felt the chemical take over.
Edward reached out and ran an ice cold finger down Wilson's cheek. "Good. I need you to to be relaxed when I do this."
Wilson opened his brown eyes, and stared into Edward's topaz ones. "Relax?"
"It's just," Edward placed his hands tightly on Wilson's shoulders. "You smell so good."
Wilson snapped back to reality, as Edward placed a hand in his hair and pulled his head back. "Wait! P-please! Don't do this. D-don't!"
Edward leaned in, and Wilson felt his breath against his neck. "PLEASE. PLEASE, JUST LEAVE ME ALONE!" Wilson struggled, but he knew he would be no match for Edward. He had learned that last night.
Edward just laughed and bit down.
Wilson screamed.
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
"Wilson!"
Wilson jumped to his feet and balled his fists, punching the air. "Get away from me you asshole. Get away!"
House grabbed the television remote and tossed it at Wilson's head. "Will you calm down? You're ruining the movie! Cost me five bucks to rent you know."
Wilson shook his head, and brought his hands up to his eyes, rubbing them. "Where...what?" He ran his hand down his neck, expecting to see blood on his hands, only there was nothing.
"I didn't get bit?"
House raised an eyebrow and glanced over at the empty beer bottles on the coffee table. "How many of those did you drink? Lightweight. No, you didn't get bit. You fell asleep almost as soon as I put this piece of shit in. I knew I should have got The Magic Bed 4 as antique as it is."
Wilson slowly sat back down on the couch and watched as the credits began to roll up the screen.
So it had all been a dream then.
He turned towards House, and felt his stomach grumble.
But if that was true, why did House smell so damn good?
~*~FIN~*~