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October 7th, 2006

08:35 am - Good Drabble Lady, says she I wrote some drabbles while I was not paying attention to my classes. I can't understand a word they say, so I figured I might as well get something constructive done. Thanks to lilallisun for reading and beta'ing. And for calling me a good drabble lady. Here goes! Title: Want Author:iisrealsmart Word Count: 100 Rating: G Disclaimer: I don't own them, wish I did, all that jazz. When House wanted something, he usually had a way to get it. He could get his staff to work his clinic hours when he didn't want to. He could get Cuddy to agree to the expensive or risky (or sometimes both) tests and treatments he wanted. He always wanted to solve his cases, and worked hard (from the safety of his office) until he had it figured out. He wanted the truth from people and he usually got it. But there was something he wanted more than all these things. He wanted James Wilson. You can't always get what you want. Title: Windows Author:iisrealsmart Word Count: 100 Rating: G Disclaimer: I don't own them, wish I did, all that jazz. "The eyes are the windows to the soul". If that's true, then the shutters were drawn in House's eyes. No one could ever see what was going on inside the man. His eyes let loose no secrets. Except, when he was with Wilson, once in a while, something would peek out. A loving glance, quickly hidden, a hint of lust, joked away. Eventually the shield opened a crack when Wilson was around, but House's inner feelings were still guarded from sight. Then he looked into Wilson's eyes and saw overwhelming love. House threw open the shutters and let Wilson see in. Title: Manage Author:iisrealsmart Word Count: 100 Rating: PG (for the alcohol, maybe?) Disclaimer: I don't own them, wish I did, all that jazz. He thought he could manage all his pain. He managed the pain in his leg. The burning, breath stealing, white hot pain, this he could endure, with the help of copious amounts of Vicodin and rule breaking amounts of alcohol. He managed the pain of Stacy leaving. The numbness alternating with the real heartache, the hole that was widened at every reminder of her, this he coped with, through more alcohol and a low tolerance for self pity. But this pain he couldn't handle. He had asked Wilson if he could love him, and James said no. He couldn't manage the pain. Title: Knowledge Author:iisrealsmart Word Count: 100 Rating: G Disclaimer: I don't own them, wish I did, all that jazz. House knew how he felt about his best friend. He knew that he felt happier in his friend's presence. He knew that he thought about him, dreamed about him, and beat himself up over him far too often. He knew he was in love. He also knew that Wilson wouldn't be interested. He knew of the man's hope for a good life in a nice neighborhood with a loving wife and beautiful children. He also knew that there was no room in that dream for a miserable cripple. Then Wilson kissed him. Turns out he didn't know anything at all. Title:Math Author:iisrealsmart Word Count: 100 Rating: G Disclaimer: I don't own them, wish I did, all that jazz. One person plus one person equals two people. But what if those two people aren't complete? What if one person has been hurt and betrayed by his body and the person he loved? What if he lives his life in pain, from the injury and the memories? What if he has pushed away everyone but one man? And what if this other man isn't whole, either? What if he's been hurt by love too? What if he's afraid he is not capable of truly loving one person? If you put them together, do they make one? Title: Choice Author:iisrealsmart Word Count: 100 Rating: PG (implied sex?) Disclaimer: I don't own them, wish I did, all that jazz. James Wilson had to make a choice. He sat lost in his thoughts. "How did I come to be here? Why do I have to be the one to decide?" He contemplated his options, trying to figure out what would be best, trying to find a way out of having to make the decision. Then the answer came to him, the perfect solution. "Yo! Jimbo! Anybody home? I asked what you wanted for dinner, Chinese or Mexican? I didn't know it would be a life altering verdict", House said, waving menus. Wilson grinned and said, "Actually, I'd rather have YOU for dinner." Title: Power Author:iisrealsmart Word Count: 200 Rating: G Disclaimer: I don't own them, wish I did, all that jazz. He had power. He had the power to make his staff do whatever crazy thing he asked of them. He had the power to make Cuddy crazy or calm depending on his actions. He could piss off patients or soothe their fears. He was able to make risky mistakes and still be right in the end. He made people fear and revere him. But he wasn't all powerful. He couldn't completely get out of clinic duty, and he never failed to make trouble. And the one power he wanted more than anything was the power to make Wilson love him. ....... James Wilson had power. He was a department head at a prestigious hospital and his opinion was well respected among his peers. His soothing manner could lessen the blow of what he told patients everyday. His boyishly handsome looks and natural kindness and generosity gave him a certain gift with women. And he had a much more important talent; an authority over Greg House. Wilson was the only one who could talk to the man and come away unscathed. He had the power to make House listen to him, but he didn't have the power to make House love him. Title: Could Have Author:iisrealsmart Word Count: 100 Rating: G Disclaimer: I don't own them, wish I did, all that jazz. If he hadn't had the infarction, House could have been different. He and Stacy could have been together still, maybe married, maybe even with children. Instead, he's alone and Stacy is a bitter memory. He could have kept running, pushing himself through the pain to keep himself fit as he grew older. But now he pushes himself through the pain of day to day life, waiting for his next Vicodin to keep life neutral. He thought about the could-have-beens and would-have-beens and realized: He could never have been and would never be what James Wilson needed. Title: Perfect Author:iisrealsmart Word Count: 100 Rating: PG Disclaimer: I don't own them, wish I did, all that jazz. It was James Wilson's birthday and it had not been a good day. He'd had to tell an nine year old boy that his cancer was back after chemo. Then he'd informed a mother of four that she had breast cancer. On top of this, House hadn't acknowledged his birthday. Then House paged him to his office. When Wilson got there, House greeted him with pants down, revealing his backside which read "I Love James Wilson". Wilson laughed, asking, "A tattoo?" "No. I had a hooker write it in Sharpie." Wilson grinned. It was so House. It was so perfectly House.

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September 4th, 2006

08:54 pm - Tear You Apart Title: Tear You Apart Author: iisrealsmart Characters: House and Wilson Rating: R for some bad words Word Count: 1,952 A/N: This is the last of what I have. This, too, is a songfic. "Tear You Apart" by She Wants Revenge, for my dear lilallisun, beta'd by the awesome acidic_flower Got a big plan, his mindset maybe its right At the right place and right time, maybe tonight It was Friday night, meaning Wilson was coming over for the usual Chinese food and beer. Only maybe tonight wouldn’t be so usual, or at least House hoped so. In a whisper or handshake sending a sign Wanna make out and kiss hard, wait nevermind. Wilson showed up, as always, promptly at six. He knocked, though it was more to let House know he was there. He didn’t expect House to open the door for him; in fact, he had already put his key in the lock. House was sitting on the couch, not even looking up when Wilson came in, just flipping through channels. Wilson threw his stuff down on the floor behind the couch and tried to sit down but House was sitting sprawled across the whole couch. “Guess you’ll have to sit on my lap, then” he said, leering. “I don’t think so. Now move your ass, I’m trying to sit down here”, Wilson shot back. House moved to allow Wilson one cushion, whining about how he couldn’t even stretch out on his own couch. Wilson sat down, took the remote and starting flipping through channels himself. House made a grab for the remote but Wilson was too fast and they started a wrestling match over it. House grabbed Wilson’s arms and hands, trying to get the remote away from him. Wilson leaned over House, across his lap, trying to grab the remote back from the older man without hurting his leg. They wrestled and laughed, stopping only when the delivery boy rang the bell. Wilson got up to pay for the food, but House pulled him back down. He landed right next to House and his hand accidentally landed in House’s lap. He blushed and pulled his hand away. House got inches from his face and whispered, “You may have won this time Jimmy, but I’ll be back for more.” House remained in Wilson’s face for a few more seconds, longer than he needed to, then suddenly looked away and limped to the kitchen to get the beer. Wilson got up, puzzled as to what had just happened. Was that just joking, or did House mean to appear flirtatious? Shaking his head he opened the door and got out his wallet. Of course it was just a joke, just one that had gotten out of hand. It had to be. It's only just a crush, it'll go away It's just like all the others it'll go away House had started noticing that he felt… strange around Wilson. Being with Wilson made him happy, and almost nothing else did. He’d find ways to see Wilson during the day, more than he needed to. Their casual banter seemed to be bordering on flirtation, and not the innocent kind, either. But it COULDN’T be a crush. House was straight, Wilson was straight (no gay man could wear such ugly ties) and so it must have been nothing. And even if it was a crush, it would have to go away. It would soon enough, it House paid little attention to it. He could not have a crush on his best friend. The sooner he got over this the sooner he could feel normal again, or as close to normal as he’d ever been. He just hoped that in the meantime his best friend couldn’t see the lust in his eyes when he looked at him. Or maybe this is danger and he just don't know You pray it all away but it continues to grow. A week later House was still trying to convince himself out of this crush. He had accepted now that it was a crush, but he still forced himself to ignore it, ignore the possibility of anything happening. After all, Wilson would never like a crippled bastard like him. Wilson could have anyone he wanted; he was handsome, kind, and made good money. Why would Wilson ever choose House? Wilson had noticed House acting stranger around him. The odd thing was, the behavior was actually similar to the behavior of a girl who’s around her crush. House would laugh at anything Wilson said, always seemed to be around him, and Wilson had caught House staring at him more than a few times. House joked it away, but Wilson still wondered what exactly it was that he had seen in his friend’s eyes. I want to hold you close Skin pressed against me tight Lie still, and close your eyes girl So lovely, it feels so right I want to hold you close Soft breath, beating heart As I whisper in your ear I want to fucking tear you apart. House had dreams about being with Wilson. He got angry at himself for still thinking these things. It had been a month since he recognized his feelings, and he still hadn’t managed to stop them. Every time he saw Wilson, he thought of what it would be like to lie with him in bed, right next to each other. What would it be like to feel him breathing, feel his heartbeat right next to him? House thought it would feel good, though he never actually allowed himself to say it. He wanted Wilson more than anything, and it was killing him to not be able to say anything. But if he messed up his friendship with Wilson, he’d have nothing left. Wilson and House’s job were the only things he had, and his job couldn’t make him laugh and pay for his food. So he needed Wilson, and couldn’t risk saying a word. House was acting even stranger now, Wilson noticed. He still came around any opportunity he could, still stared at Wilson, but now he seemed angry about it. He would frown after a few minutes of being near Wilson. He didn’t think that House was actually angry at him, but he worried about what could be making him so upset. He hoped that he had nothing to do with it, but he couldn’t help but to wonder if maybe it was ALL about him. Did House like Wilson? Not as friends, but as something more? House seemed to be portraying the signs of a crush, and now it appeared that he was beating himself up for it. Had Wilson sent signals that he didn’t like House? He hoped not, for actually, he had been harboring a crush on House for a while, too. He never let on, but being near House made him happier, even when House was being a bastard. He knew everything about House, knew him almost better than the man knew himself. But Wilson figured that he must be mistaken; House wasn’t gay, and he would never fall for someone like him. He was too nice, too morally right, and more intuitive than House would ever like. He decided to wait a few weeks, and if he was sure he could handle it, he would admit his feelings to House. And hope there would be something salvageable from the fallout. Her hand brushed up against his, she left it there Told him how she felt and then they locked in a stare. One of the Fridays, Wilson came to House’s place early. He seemed nervous and wouldn’t look at House. He appeared to be distracted and uncomfortable being there. House wondered why he had bothered to come if he wasn’t going to enjoy being there. Still, he proceeded as normal; eating and talking, drinking beer and laughing. He kept waiting to see if Wilson would tell him what was wrong. He didn’t want to help fix the problem or anything, but he hoped that maybe Wilson would get over whatever was bothering him and they could have fun. “House?” Wilson asked. “Yes, dear?” House replied. A look flashed through Wilson’s brown eyes, but House couldn’t read it. “House, please…I just need you to be serious, just for a few minutes. I know it’s going to be hard for you, but please…do it for me” Wilson pleaded. Normally House would have laughed at this, but there was something in his friend’s face that told him that he should just keep quiet. He sat back on the couch and said, “Okay. I’m listening, but you better not start crying, because I’m not offering you a hanky.” Wilson gave a weak smile and then looked down and started speaking quietly. “House. I’ve had something on my mind for a while. A few months, actually. Do you remember when we had the wrestling match over the remote, when you were in my face and we got sorta… close? Actually, it probably meant nothing to you, so you probably don’t remember. But I do. And it…uh, it meant something to me. Maybe you don’t even care, and maybe I’m crazy to try and bring this up. I could be acting on something that I’m not sure of.” House tapped his fingers on the cane impatiently. “This is a big dramatic moment or whatever, straight out of a Lifetime movie special, I’m sure, but could we fast forward to the good part?” Wilson smiled again, but the smile didn’t reach his eyes; they were still sad and watery. He took a deep breath and continued, “When you were that close to me, something changed. I started thinking about you, and about us. About how I wanted there to BE an “us”. Not an “us” like we are now…a real “us”. I thought you were going to kiss me that night, and at first I was scared, but then I thought about it, and now I think I would have liked it.” Wilson rushed through this last part, refusing to look up at House’s face, then hurried into his explanation. “I know there’s nothing to do here; you’re straight, and what would you want with me anyway? But I just thought you should know this, in case I stop coming here. It’s hard to be this close to you but not be able to get as close as I want to be. Do you understand?” House said, “Yes. I do understand.” Wilson looked up, searching House’s eyes, but House looked away. For once, he seemed to not know what he was doing. He continued, “And I do remember that night.” Wilson stared at House, who was staring right back. “What do you mean…? What do you remember?” Wilson stammered. “Just as I said; I remember the night of which you speak. I didn’t think it’d be so hard for you to understand!” House said with a hint of irritation. “I just…did the night mean something to you? Why do you remember it? Was I being strange?” Wilson asked. “I remember it because it was an interesting night. There was something I wanted to do. Let me show you what I mean” House said. But their lips met, and reservations started to pass Whether this was just an evening or a thing that would last House leaned over and grabbed Wilson, kissing him fiercely. Coming up for air, Wilson gasped “Oh. I uh…see. But why didn’t you do something before? Why didn’t you say something? And interesting h...” House stopped Wilson’s questions with another kiss, whispering “Shut up, Wilson.” I want to hold you close Soft breath, beating heart They made out for an hour, slowly losing articles of clothing, clawing desperately at each other for the first time, but certainly not the last. House pulled Wilson close again, but this time, instead of kissing him as he had been doing, he whispered in Wilson’s ear. “I want to fucking tear you apart”

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07:30 pm - It's Good To Be In Love Title: "It's Good To Be In Love" Author: iisrealsmart Characters: House, Wilson, Cameron Rating: PG for the hinting about sex Word Count: 1,080 Disclaimer: Don't own them A/N: This is the second of my writings for my bestest bud lilallisun I had a hard time with this one with being OOC. This is the best I can do, though. Sorry! Again thanks to acidic_flower for the beta. I don't know where to start Say i'm tired or throw a party House came into his office, smiling for the third day this week. Dr. Wilson came in right behind him, carrying a brown paper bag. “Here’s lunch. I made this for you so you wouldn’t eat mine today!” Dr. Wilson said, laughing as he handed the bag to House. I faked a smile when he turned to roll his eyes at me. “Thank you Mother” House replied. He winked mischievously and grabbed Dr. Wilson’s bottom as he walked out of the room. Dr. Wilson simply chuckled and kept walking. These cucumber eyes Are lying the more that I smile about it I smiled every day as they walked in together. It was good to see House so happy, even if I did have to hear details about their sex life. It certainly made my job easier if he was happy. I just flashed a quick smile every few hours when I saw them together, and they never questioned how I felt; they just kept walking shoulder to shoulder, Wilson in step with House’s limping walk. And all of my clothes feel like somebody's old throwaways I don't like it Sitting in the office with Foreman and Chase, though, was torture at first. They needled me about House and Dr. Wilson. “Too bad for you your love’s changed sides on you, Cameron. Guess you’ll need to find a new miserable cripple to fix!” Chase said. And Foreman just sat there and laughed at me, checking my reactions every time I saw them together. But soon they lost interest in tormenting me and just focused on the benefits of the relationship between House and Dr. Wilson. It's good to be in love It really does suit you House was a better boss because of Dr. Wilson. He’d come in and watch House brainstorm ideas and throw out ideas of his own. Sometimes they’d finish the other’s thoughts or share an inside joke. Cuddy liked it too; she hardly had patients complain about his abrasiveness. Actually, the few complaints she got were that he finished his diagnosis too fast, rushing in, spouting off the ailment, and rushing back out. He was too busy being in Wilson’s office, doing whatever it was that they did in there (though I was sure to hear about it later) to spend any time even making fun of patients. I'm happy you're in love 'Cause every colour goes where you do House even looked better now that he was with Dr. Wilson. He seemed more fit (“workout sessions with Wilson”, he would say) and listened more, though still mostly to Wilson. He took less Vicodin and still managed to be fine. He had the same smugness, but now it was due to the “great sex” he and Wilson were having. I was happy to see him becoming a nicer person more fit for everyday society. I'm adoring you It's all good You're so beautiful I watched him carefully, noticing all the little things that had changed about him since he and Dr. Wilson got together. He smiled randomly, then told us that we were too young to hear about it. He didn’t want to “scar our young fragile minds” with the thoughts he was having. He walked to Dr. Wilson’s office all the time, and they’d come out together; House looking as if he’d achieved some great thing, Wilson blushing and slightly out of breath, both happy.He looked like a new person. I'm black and blue all over You're breaking my flow How could you know what I'm saying about it When all of my clothes feel like somebody's old throwaways I don't like it Everything had changed, in just a few short weeks, it seemed. And I think he realized how I felt, because he’d look at me, catch me staring at the two of them. That’s not to say he felt bad about it, of course. If anything, he seemed to flaunt his relationship more around me; he’d grab Dr. Wilson and kiss him goodbye, stare at him leaving the office, leer at him as he walked away. Some things never change, I guess. I feel so powerless, I I've got to stop it somehow Oh come on what can I do Every time I saw them together, I felt a little pain. I knew there was nothing I could do to stop this and I also knew that I should get on with my life. I couldn’t change what I felt, though. Why's it happening How's it happening Without me Why's it happening How's it happening that he feels it without me I wondered what he saw in Dr. Wilson that he hadn’t seen in me. We were both trying to fix him without fixing him. We both had our neediness issues. We were both good looking. I didn’t understand why House would pick Dr. Wilson over me, stupid as it was to feel that way. It's good to be in love It really does suit you Just like everything One day House asked me if I had a problem with him and Dr. Wilson. I told him, “No, it’s fine. It’s good, being in love. It suits you.” He shrugged and said okay, then turned toward his office where Dr. Wilson was waiting for him. They were going to House’s place together again tonight, something they’d done the past week. It was the end of the day and House hadn’t taken his Vicodin in hours. Dr. Wilson stood there with a cup of water and a pill from House’s jacket, and then set to work getting them ready to leave. As they walked out the door, I saw how Dr. Wilson walked close enough to help House if he needed it, but not close enough to be obvious about it. I saw the care and concern in Dr. Wilson’s eyes. And I realized that House chose Dr. Wilson because he knew him so much better than I ever could. Dr. Wilson knew exactly how to treat House, how to help without helping and how to care for someone who didn’t want to be cared for. He had learned tricks that I could never learn, ways to do things to take care of House that would have gotten me yelled at, but got him kisses. As I sat there, I thought, ”I'm happy you're in love 'Cause every color goes where you do”

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06:12 pm - Drabble Title: Touch Author: iisrealsmart Characters: House and Wilson Rating: PG, I guess. Depends on how you interpret the word touch. Word Count: 100 for each drabble Spoilers: None Disclaimer: They are not mine. A/N: My first attempts at writing. These and the next few things were a welcome home present for lilallisun. She made me get them beta'd to post. Thank you so much to the lovely acidic_flower for being my beta. "Touch" He touches so often. Shaking hands at parties thrown by his wife, the kisses they share to pretend they still care for one another. Touch. He offers patients a shoulder to cry on, a hug after bad news. His gentle hands fly over injuries and diagnose ailments in the clinic. Touch. Walking through crowded places he bumps into people, hands meet when exchanging money in the cafeteria. Touch. The touching is just a throwaway action. It means nothing to him to touch any of these people. The one person he wants, who means everything to him, he can’t Touch. He always touched things. His hand was always on his cane, and often fingering the ever present Vicodin. Touch. He played with the large ball in his office, or listened to his iPod, seeking to focus, seeking to distract. Touch. He held files in his hands of the few patients he chose to treat, wrote their symptoms on the whiteboard with his marker. Touch. He rarely touched people. Didn’t go near the patients, didn’t shake hands or go to parties. He never hugged anyone. If he touched, they’d touch back. And there was only one person he would let Touch.

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