Happy (PG)
Jan. 16th, 2009 08:18 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
deelaundryTitle: Happy
Author: Dee Laundry
Pairing: House/Wilson
Rating: PG
Words: 250
Summary: A happy moment, written for![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
jane_hidell
House banged through Wilson’s balcony door as loudly as he could, but the noise didn’t manage to knock the smile off Wilson’s face.
"You look like a dork," House commented as he flung himself down onto Wilson’s couch.
“Oh?” Wilson replied, smile only getting bigger. He shut the file on his desk, placed it in his outbox, and then folded his hands on his blotter. He was watching House’s face and seemed to think his turn at the conversation was over.
“You look like a dork,” House repeated.
“That’s good,” Wilson said. “How a man looks should reflect who he really is inside.”
House goggled for a moment, absolutely refusing to accept what that implied about himself. “You don’t really think that.”
Standing, Wilson grinned and began pulling off his tie. “No, I don’t.”
“Then what –”
Wilson’s lips pressed against House’s, as his hip began nudging House over, seeking room on the couch.
“I think,” Wilson murmured against his lips, “how a man looks reflects how he feels about those closest to him.” Wilson’s mouth slid up House’s jaw, with tickles of tongue along the way. “Those he loves.”
House let his head fall back, let himself accept the affection. Wilson’s arms dipped around his sides, hands warm as they splayed across his back.
“You just called me a dork, didn’t you?”
Wilson pulled back to look at House, crows feet crinkling and laugh lines etched deep. “Caught that?”
“Dork,” House snorted, and pulled Wilson into his arms again.
Author: Dee Laundry
Pairing: House/Wilson
Rating: PG
Words: 250
Summary: A happy moment, written for
jane_hidellHouse banged through Wilson’s balcony door as loudly as he could, but the noise didn’t manage to knock the smile off Wilson’s face.
"You look like a dork," House commented as he flung himself down onto Wilson’s couch.
“Oh?” Wilson replied, smile only getting bigger. He shut the file on his desk, placed it in his outbox, and then folded his hands on his blotter. He was watching House’s face and seemed to think his turn at the conversation was over.
“You look like a dork,” House repeated.
“That’s good,” Wilson said. “How a man looks should reflect who he really is inside.”
House goggled for a moment, absolutely refusing to accept what that implied about himself. “You don’t really think that.”
Standing, Wilson grinned and began pulling off his tie. “No, I don’t.”
“Then what –”
Wilson’s lips pressed against House’s, as his hip began nudging House over, seeking room on the couch.
“I think,” Wilson murmured against his lips, “how a man looks reflects how he feels about those closest to him.” Wilson’s mouth slid up House’s jaw, with tickles of tongue along the way. “Those he loves.”
House let his head fall back, let himself accept the affection. Wilson’s arms dipped around his sides, hands warm as they splayed across his back.
“You just called me a dork, didn’t you?”
Wilson pulled back to look at House, crows feet crinkling and laugh lines etched deep. “Caught that?”
“Dork,” House snorted, and pulled Wilson into his arms again.
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(no subject)
Date: 2009-01-17 07:55 pm (UTC)