[Twilight/House] Scot-free; [Twilight] Trickster
Hmmm, don't think I've posted this stuff here yet. So. Have crack. Wonderful, hilarious crack.
Title: Scot-free
Fandom: Twilight/House M.D.
Characters: Greg House/Carlisle Cullen
Rating: PG
Prompt: "Where the hell did you go to med school?"
A/N: Written for astrangerenters at the Twilight Uncanon Drabble Request Meme.
Gregory House sat uncomfortably on the exam room table, tapping his fingers anxiously against its plastic-y padding. It was a enormous hassle, all of this - all he wanted was for someone to come in, realize how much pain he was in, and toss him some Vicodin for his leg. But no, that wasn't allowed, not even for the miraculous Dr. House. Fucking hospitals that weren't his own out in the middle of nowhere land.
The nurse had tried to get him into one of those ridiculous paper hospital gowns, but House had put up such a fight that he was now wearing his t-shirt and boxers. Like hell he was wearing one. He hadn’t even worn those when he was a kid.
As House drummed out his annoyed melody, the door opened with a soft creak, and a doctor stepped inside, saying cheerfully,
“So how are we doing today?”
House rolled his eyes. “I’m not six years old. Obviously I’m in pain or else I wouldn’t be here.”
The doctor smiled, saying nothing. House eyed him suspiciously, like he wasn’t really a doctor but some stranger on the street who could pull a gun on him at any minute. The man, slender and blond, looked too young to be a doctor. And too damn cheerful, too. He was like some horrible mix of Cameron and Chase. Maybe this would be what happened if they had kids.
“So, the nurse says you’re having leg problems?” the man inquired, still as merry as ever, setting down whatever papers had been in his hands.
“How astute, Dr…” House trailed off, searching for a name tag. It just didn’t seem right if he didn’t mock people by name. At least until he knew them well enough to mock them with malicious nicknames.
“Cullen.”
“Right. And the reason I’m not wearing pants is because I’m coming on to you.”
Chuckling, Dr. Cullen made his way over to the table, looking at House’s leg. “She also said you were quite a handful as well. And you only talked to her, what, five minutes?”
“I’m just misunderstood,” House scoffed, leaning back on his hands. “Look, it’s just old surgery wounds coming back to haunt me. Spare a man the anguish and write me up something for some pain pills? Preferably the kind that can knock out a small horse.”
Again, the blond doctor said nothing, and House was starting to get annoyed. If only he hadn’t run out of Vicodin in this godforsaken hick town, he wouldn’t be here. And he couldn’t write himself a new prescription; who knew what sort of keep-House-from-popping-pills plan Cuddy had implemented over the entirety of the United States. If this didn’t work, however, it was something House was willing to try, Cuddy be damned.
Absorbed in his mental tirade, House nearly jumped as he felt cool fingers on his leg, just beside the scars.
“These are fairly old, I’d say,” Dr. Cullen was saying. “It still gives you pain?”
“My muscle died and was removed. Of course it’s going to still hurt.” House stared at the other man. “Where the hell did you go to med school?”
“I apologize for not being a mind reader,” Dr. Cullen replied, a faint smile playing across his face at some inside joke House obviously didn’t know.
House sighed. “Look, I’m a doctor. Trust me. And with the direction your hand seems to be unconsciously sliding, I’d say you’re doing that pretty well already.”
Slightly surprised, Dr. Cullen drew his hand back, crossing his arms over his chest as he looked at the grumpy man on the exam table. “Pardon me, I - ”
“Forget about it, I do it too,” House said, waving him off. “Only not really, and only with chicks. But you’re close enough to one, so good enough.”
Dr. Cullen smirked, pulling out a prescription pad from his pocket. “My boss will probably yell at me for this, but - ”
“She a woman?”
Dr. Cullen nodded.
“Then you’ll get off scot-free. Just write the damn thing already.”
Title: Trickster
Fandom: Twilight
Characters: Jasper Hale/Emmett Cullen
Rating: PG
Prompt: "Just because I can..."
A/N: Written for pexylexy at the Twilight Uncanon Drabble Request Meme.
He pushed Jasper down against the bed, more forcefully than necessary, pressing kisses against every part of the blond’s face that he could find. Jasper’s hands were at his shoulders, clutching Emmett’s shirt, returning the fierce kisses in turn. Sighing contently, Emmett shifted an arm to balance better -
- and Jasper had rolled out from underneath him, perched precariously on the edge of the bed, looking amused. Surprise splashed across Emmett’s face, followed swiftly by annoyance.
“You promised no games this time,” he growled, running a hand through his short hair.
“I’m not playing any games,” Jasper replied innocently. He fixed the collar of his shirt, which had twisted around his neck during his “struggle” with Emmett.
“Then sit still,” Emmett demanded, like he was talking to a misbehaving little kid. Sitting up, he lunged at Jasper, but the smaller vampire was quick, pushing back so they rolled across the bed, nearly off the other side. Emmett pinned Jasper down before he could escape again.
“I thought you didn’t like easy prey,” Jasper joked, kissing Emmett’s chin.
“Only when I’m going to kill it.” Emmett rolled his eyes. “And I’m not gonna kill you. Unless you keep messing around.”
“Isn’t that what we’re both doing?” Jasper said, eyes closed, running his fingers along Emmett’s neck lightly.
Emmett snarled as he felt the feeling of calm that washed over him, and he gripped Jasper’s wrist tightly. “Stop it.”
Jasper laughed lightly, kissing Emmett’s hand. “You know I do it because you get so annoyed.”
Letting Jasper’s arm go, Emmett slid off the blond, flopping back on the bed beside him. “You’re unusually happy about all this.”
Smiling, Jasper languidly straddled Emmett, leaning forward until their faces were centimeters apart. “Because I can be,” he replied and kissed Emmett on the nose.
Emmett snorted, but didn’t say anything more.
Title: Scot-free
Fandom: Twilight/House M.D.
Characters: Greg House/Carlisle Cullen
Rating: PG
Prompt: "Where the hell did you go to med school?"
A/N: Written for astrangerenters at the Twilight Uncanon Drabble Request Meme.
Gregory House sat uncomfortably on the exam room table, tapping his fingers anxiously against its plastic-y padding. It was a enormous hassle, all of this - all he wanted was for someone to come in, realize how much pain he was in, and toss him some Vicodin for his leg. But no, that wasn't allowed, not even for the miraculous Dr. House. Fucking hospitals that weren't his own out in the middle of nowhere land.
The nurse had tried to get him into one of those ridiculous paper hospital gowns, but House had put up such a fight that he was now wearing his t-shirt and boxers. Like hell he was wearing one. He hadn’t even worn those when he was a kid.
As House drummed out his annoyed melody, the door opened with a soft creak, and a doctor stepped inside, saying cheerfully,
“So how are we doing today?”
House rolled his eyes. “I’m not six years old. Obviously I’m in pain or else I wouldn’t be here.”
The doctor smiled, saying nothing. House eyed him suspiciously, like he wasn’t really a doctor but some stranger on the street who could pull a gun on him at any minute. The man, slender and blond, looked too young to be a doctor. And too damn cheerful, too. He was like some horrible mix of Cameron and Chase. Maybe this would be what happened if they had kids.
“So, the nurse says you’re having leg problems?” the man inquired, still as merry as ever, setting down whatever papers had been in his hands.
“How astute, Dr…” House trailed off, searching for a name tag. It just didn’t seem right if he didn’t mock people by name. At least until he knew them well enough to mock them with malicious nicknames.
“Cullen.”
“Right. And the reason I’m not wearing pants is because I’m coming on to you.”
Chuckling, Dr. Cullen made his way over to the table, looking at House’s leg. “She also said you were quite a handful as well. And you only talked to her, what, five minutes?”
“I’m just misunderstood,” House scoffed, leaning back on his hands. “Look, it’s just old surgery wounds coming back to haunt me. Spare a man the anguish and write me up something for some pain pills? Preferably the kind that can knock out a small horse.”
Again, the blond doctor said nothing, and House was starting to get annoyed. If only he hadn’t run out of Vicodin in this godforsaken hick town, he wouldn’t be here. And he couldn’t write himself a new prescription; who knew what sort of keep-House-from-popping-pills plan Cuddy had implemented over the entirety of the United States. If this didn’t work, however, it was something House was willing to try, Cuddy be damned.
Absorbed in his mental tirade, House nearly jumped as he felt cool fingers on his leg, just beside the scars.
“These are fairly old, I’d say,” Dr. Cullen was saying. “It still gives you pain?”
“My muscle died and was removed. Of course it’s going to still hurt.” House stared at the other man. “Where the hell did you go to med school?”
“I apologize for not being a mind reader,” Dr. Cullen replied, a faint smile playing across his face at some inside joke House obviously didn’t know.
House sighed. “Look, I’m a doctor. Trust me. And with the direction your hand seems to be unconsciously sliding, I’d say you’re doing that pretty well already.”
Slightly surprised, Dr. Cullen drew his hand back, crossing his arms over his chest as he looked at the grumpy man on the exam table. “Pardon me, I - ”
“Forget about it, I do it too,” House said, waving him off. “Only not really, and only with chicks. But you’re close enough to one, so good enough.”
Dr. Cullen smirked, pulling out a prescription pad from his pocket. “My boss will probably yell at me for this, but - ”
“She a woman?”
Dr. Cullen nodded.
“Then you’ll get off scot-free. Just write the damn thing already.”
Title: Trickster
Fandom: Twilight
Characters: Jasper Hale/Emmett Cullen
Rating: PG
Prompt: "Just because I can..."
A/N: Written for pexylexy at the Twilight Uncanon Drabble Request Meme.
He pushed Jasper down against the bed, more forcefully than necessary, pressing kisses against every part of the blond’s face that he could find. Jasper’s hands were at his shoulders, clutching Emmett’s shirt, returning the fierce kisses in turn. Sighing contently, Emmett shifted an arm to balance better -
- and Jasper had rolled out from underneath him, perched precariously on the edge of the bed, looking amused. Surprise splashed across Emmett’s face, followed swiftly by annoyance.
“You promised no games this time,” he growled, running a hand through his short hair.
“I’m not playing any games,” Jasper replied innocently. He fixed the collar of his shirt, which had twisted around his neck during his “struggle” with Emmett.
“Then sit still,” Emmett demanded, like he was talking to a misbehaving little kid. Sitting up, he lunged at Jasper, but the smaller vampire was quick, pushing back so they rolled across the bed, nearly off the other side. Emmett pinned Jasper down before he could escape again.
“I thought you didn’t like easy prey,” Jasper joked, kissing Emmett’s chin.
“Only when I’m going to kill it.” Emmett rolled his eyes. “And I’m not gonna kill you. Unless you keep messing around.”
“Isn’t that what we’re both doing?” Jasper said, eyes closed, running his fingers along Emmett’s neck lightly.
Emmett snarled as he felt the feeling of calm that washed over him, and he gripped Jasper’s wrist tightly. “Stop it.”
Jasper laughed lightly, kissing Emmett’s hand. “You know I do it because you get so annoyed.”
Letting Jasper’s arm go, Emmett slid off the blond, flopping back on the bed beside him. “You’re unusually happy about all this.”
Smiling, Jasper languidly straddled Emmett, leaning forward until their faces were centimeters apart. “Because I can be,” he replied and kissed Emmett on the nose.
Emmett snorted, but didn’t say anything more.