Commentporn Post, Round 2
The internet is dead and I am bored out of my mind, so let's play the free porn ficlet game. It has been played before on this journal, hereThe rules are simple: Whoever comments first is getting commentporn. Any pairing, any fandom--het, slash, or femmeslash. I should be at least marginally familiar with the fandom, but if you want to make me
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There are certain times when Wilson always makes sure to check the caller ID before he picks up his office phone: one, when he is doing something borderline illegal to a patient and needs to avoid Cuddy for just a little bit longer; two, during the first three weeks after a divorce; and three, on days when House stayed home from work.
The strategy has helped him become fairly skilled at avoiding unpleasant phone conversations, but nobody's perfect. Sometimes, even Wilson forgets himself.
"Doctor James Wilson, Oncology Department, what can I do for you?"
The phone line crackles into his ear, and then he can hear the opening music of The Office starting to play in the background.
"You can explain to me why this guy looks like Taub. The similarity is uncanny. Did Taub have a secret acting career before he became a doctor? Maybe there's Taub-porn out there. "The Midget Gets It", part one to five. I should get him drunk and make him give me the tapes."
Wilson closes his eyes with a long-suffering sigh. He should really have known better than to unsuspectingly pick up the phone today--the third day of House being trapped at home by the improbable masses of snow that Princeton-Plainsboro has been buried in. The current weather conditions make driving difficult, walking dangerous, and walking with a cane downright impossible. Diagnostics don't have any current cases, so Cuddy decided that House making his laborious way into work would be pointless. Personally, of course, Wilson is of the opinion that it would be much better for everybody's sanity if House weren't trapped in a three-bedroom-flat and bored out of his mind for days, but as usual, nobody asked him.
"Why yes," he says, leaning back in his chair. "Taub-porn, not something I would ever want to miss out on. Maybe the Office-guy is Taub's secret twin. Maybe they shot some hot Taub-on-Taub action in their earlier days of acting. They were young and needed the money."
On the other end of the line, House snorts. "And people think I'm the perverted one." There's a brief pause. "Speaking of perversion, what do you prefer, silk or hemp?"
Wilson raises an eyebrow. "I didn't know you could smoke silk."
"That's an idea, I could get you high, too. Lysergic acid diethylamide, perfect for over-stimulating the senses. I think I still have some lying around."
"What are you doing?"
"Planning our evening."
Wilson glances at his office door to make sure it's closed. "I didn't know we had plans."
"We do now. Want to hear about it?"
"I'm all ears."
The background chatter of the television gets quieter, and House's voice takes on a husky, story-telling quality. "You're going to come home to a dark, silent flat. The lights are off, everything is quiet. You try the switch, but the lights stay off. Just when you start to get apprehensive--what if it's not just the fuse, what if someone blew it on purpose, what if they're still in the flat--you feel the cool smoothness of my cane against your throat."
Wilson shifts a little in his chair and throws the door another glance. Yep, still closed. "Is that your actual cane, or is that a metaphor?"
"It's against your throat. Who do you think I am, Tarzan? Besides, my cane is always a metaphor."
"I see. Please, continue." Wilson's hand, which was resting on his thigh, is moving inwards, towards his crotch. He has an itch.
"You feel my cane against your throat, and are pushed back against the wall. A dark, handsome figure emerges from the shadows."
"That's you?"
"No, it's Big Bird. Of course it's me. Stop interrupting."
"Right. Sorry. Continue." His hand is on his crotch now, applying gentle pressure through his pants.
"I have taken the flat screen hostage. What are you willing to offer me in ways of a ransom?"
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