Fiction: Talent
Title: Talent
Author: gena
Rating: PG13 (bathroom humor)
Disclaimer: Still not king.
Summary: House and Wilson pee!!!! No, really.
SPOILERS!!! Yep, if you haven't seen the boys pee.
House drummed his fingers on his desk and glanced at the clock. 10:43AM. Damn. Out of the corner of his eye he caught sight of Cameron peeking through the slotted blinds, her expression dark with concern. He schooled his own face, wiping away the traces of anxiety. Neither Chase nor Foreman had noticed anything - both were absorbed in the case but Cameron had been watching him intently for the last week. His own fault really, he should have been more careful but self-restraint has never been his strong suit. The sweeping second hand on his watch clicked over and he struggled to his feet, nearly falling in his haste.
Cameron sprang to her feet as well, starting towards the door that separated conference room from office but House had already righted himself. He could see her still coming towards the door but he got to the hallway before she could stop him and pretended he was deaf and spoke only Kurdish when she called after him. He glanced at his watch again as he rounded the corner, seeing that his near run-in had put him thirty seconds behind schedule. House picked up his pace, her high heels not match for his long legs. Seconds later she was just an annoying echo and he was in sight of his prize.
House glanced left and right, checked his watch and pushed open the door to the fourth floor Men’s room. A familiar broad back, wide shoulders clad in a pressed blue shirt greeted him. “You’re late,” Wilson said over his shoulder, “I had to start without you.” House glared at him for a second then joined him at the urinals.
“What do you mean I’m late?” He demanded. “It’s 10:50. We always pee at 10:50. What’s the matter, you have beer for breakfast? Maybe got a little STD that’s causing you to jump the gun?”
“Nah,” he drawled, “just thought I’d give your self-esteem a boost. Probably difficult for you to face the big gun every day.” Wilson gave him a bored look and returned his attention to the matter at hand - or in hand as it turned out. House stood indecisive for a moment; torn between indignation and amusement. He finally gave in to amusement and unzipped his jeans.
“Don’t flatter yourself, Junior,” he quipped, “It’s not the size of the barrel it’s the quality of the ammo that wins the war.”
Wilson’s ample brows drew together and one eye twitched before he realized House had already taken his position and started to pee. He concentrated, centering himself square to the urinal and, just as House was, used both hands to aim. He glanced over, careful to keep his gaze chin level. House met his gaze and nodded. Wilson took a deep breath, relaxed and immediately felt relief. For just an instant the sound of liquid hitting porcelain echoed around the room and then just as quickly silence reigned. Wilson grinned and looked at House who grinned back at him.
“The magic of harmonics,’ House said, cocking his head to the side and closing his eyes.
They’d discovered it by accident, just two guys peeing but somehow when they did it at the same time the resonance of both streams caused a weird acoustical effect and they peed silently. It had freaked them out at first but once they got use to it, it had become a bizarre little habit. “That never gets old,” Wilson said.
“We should benefit from this,” House mused.
“Uh, okay,” Wilson stared at him. “How?”
“You know that cranky British guy?”
“Stephen Fry?”
“Who? No!” House glared at Wilson. “The snarky guy - American Idol. He’s got a talent show. We could go on there and win $100,000,” House said.
“So we walk out, stand at urinals and pee as our talent?” Wilson shook himself and used his elbow to flush. House rolled his eyes and followed Wilson to wash his hands.
“We have to dress it up a little,” House told him, thinking, “Costumes, scantily clad girls, the Stones blasting Satisfaction.” He lost himself in the vision for a moment, picturing the spectacle, hearing the applause, counting the money. “We could be the Mick and Keith of the Urinary scene.”
“You’ve already got the drug habit,” Wilson pointed out.
“And you’ve got the groupies,” House said.
They looked at each other. “You can be my beast of burden,” they sang then burst into laughter.
Outside in the hallway Cameron, Chase and Foreman paused at the sound of riotous laughter from the men’s room. “They’re peeing again,” Cameron said with a sigh. Chase and Foreman just shook their heads and the three of them walked on. It wasn’t until a month later, sitting in Foreman’s apartment the three of them froze with shock. On the screen Simon Cowell was introducing the next act for his show America’s Got Talent. Dressed in matching gold lame scrubs and surrounded by a bevy of busty women House and Wilson stood at urinals, smiling broadly and peeing silently.
A/N: Yes, I know alone they can pee silently as well, but it was funnier this way.
Author: gena
Rating: PG13 (bathroom humor)
Disclaimer: Still not king.
Summary: House and Wilson pee!!!! No, really.
SPOILERS!!! Yep, if you haven't seen the boys pee.
House drummed his fingers on his desk and glanced at the clock. 10:43AM. Damn. Out of the corner of his eye he caught sight of Cameron peeking through the slotted blinds, her expression dark with concern. He schooled his own face, wiping away the traces of anxiety. Neither Chase nor Foreman had noticed anything - both were absorbed in the case but Cameron had been watching him intently for the last week. His own fault really, he should have been more careful but self-restraint has never been his strong suit. The sweeping second hand on his watch clicked over and he struggled to his feet, nearly falling in his haste.
Cameron sprang to her feet as well, starting towards the door that separated conference room from office but House had already righted himself. He could see her still coming towards the door but he got to the hallway before she could stop him and pretended he was deaf and spoke only Kurdish when she called after him. He glanced at his watch again as he rounded the corner, seeing that his near run-in had put him thirty seconds behind schedule. House picked up his pace, her high heels not match for his long legs. Seconds later she was just an annoying echo and he was in sight of his prize.
House glanced left and right, checked his watch and pushed open the door to the fourth floor Men’s room. A familiar broad back, wide shoulders clad in a pressed blue shirt greeted him. “You’re late,” Wilson said over his shoulder, “I had to start without you.” House glared at him for a second then joined him at the urinals.
“What do you mean I’m late?” He demanded. “It’s 10:50. We always pee at 10:50. What’s the matter, you have beer for breakfast? Maybe got a little STD that’s causing you to jump the gun?”
“Nah,” he drawled, “just thought I’d give your self-esteem a boost. Probably difficult for you to face the big gun every day.” Wilson gave him a bored look and returned his attention to the matter at hand - or in hand as it turned out. House stood indecisive for a moment; torn between indignation and amusement. He finally gave in to amusement and unzipped his jeans.
“Don’t flatter yourself, Junior,” he quipped, “It’s not the size of the barrel it’s the quality of the ammo that wins the war.”
Wilson’s ample brows drew together and one eye twitched before he realized House had already taken his position and started to pee. He concentrated, centering himself square to the urinal and, just as House was, used both hands to aim. He glanced over, careful to keep his gaze chin level. House met his gaze and nodded. Wilson took a deep breath, relaxed and immediately felt relief. For just an instant the sound of liquid hitting porcelain echoed around the room and then just as quickly silence reigned. Wilson grinned and looked at House who grinned back at him.
“The magic of harmonics,’ House said, cocking his head to the side and closing his eyes.
They’d discovered it by accident, just two guys peeing but somehow when they did it at the same time the resonance of both streams caused a weird acoustical effect and they peed silently. It had freaked them out at first but once they got use to it, it had become a bizarre little habit. “That never gets old,” Wilson said.
“We should benefit from this,” House mused.
“Uh, okay,” Wilson stared at him. “How?”
“You know that cranky British guy?”
“Stephen Fry?”
“Who? No!” House glared at Wilson. “The snarky guy - American Idol. He’s got a talent show. We could go on there and win $100,000,” House said.
“So we walk out, stand at urinals and pee as our talent?” Wilson shook himself and used his elbow to flush. House rolled his eyes and followed Wilson to wash his hands.
“We have to dress it up a little,” House told him, thinking, “Costumes, scantily clad girls, the Stones blasting Satisfaction.” He lost himself in the vision for a moment, picturing the spectacle, hearing the applause, counting the money. “We could be the Mick and Keith of the Urinary scene.”
“You’ve already got the drug habit,” Wilson pointed out.
“And you’ve got the groupies,” House said.
They looked at each other. “You can be my beast of burden,” they sang then burst into laughter.
Outside in the hallway Cameron, Chase and Foreman paused at the sound of riotous laughter from the men’s room. “They’re peeing again,” Cameron said with a sigh. Chase and Foreman just shook their heads and the three of them walked on. It wasn’t until a month later, sitting in Foreman’s apartment the three of them froze with shock. On the screen Simon Cowell was introducing the next act for his show America’s Got Talent. Dressed in matching gold lame scrubs and surrounded by a bevy of busty women House and Wilson stood at urinals, smiling broadly and peeing silently.
A/N: Yes, I know alone they can pee silently as well, but it was funnier this way.