Dee Laundry (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
deelaundry) wrote2007-07-11 01:25 am
deelaundry) wrote2007-07-11 01:25 am
Entry tags:
Kiss (PG)
A frustrating evening. Only wrote 220 words on Part Eight, and I didn't even go to bed early. Dumb. So, I wrote a little something.
Title: Kiss
Author: Dee Laundry
Rating: PG
Words: 595
Summary: How it might happen on the show. (ficlet for![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
no_eden's H/W kissing meme)
Wilson was annoyed and exasperated. It seemed like he and House had had this exact same conversation a dozen times.
“You can not be serious about proposing to this woman. Three divorces weren’t enough of a clue that you can’t make marriage work?”
Wilson drew himself up to his full height and put his hands on his hips. “I’m sick and tired of this, House. Sick and tired. You have to make it a huge character flaw of mine, don’t you? It has to be something intrinsically wrong with me, because if you think about this specific relationship I have, with this specific woman, there’s nothing wrong with it. Absolutely no reason why I shouldn’t propose to her, marry her, and live happily ever after.”
House looked down and away, and Wilson was positive he was right. That the expected sense of triumph didn’t flood his veins was probably due to his weariness at going over this again and again.
Just one more pressing of the point. “You can’t do it. You can’t give me one good reason why it wouldn’t last between me and –” He hadn’t even breathed the first sound of his girlfriend’s name when House’s lips pressed to his, rendering him mute.
It was a hard kiss, with something to prove, open mouthed but with no tongue, House’s hands gripping Wilson’s biceps for balance. Wilson wasn’t used to the angle, someone swooping down from above. Suprised, he didn’t even have time to close his eyes before House let go and pulled back.
There was the beginning of a grin on House’s face, unusually soft and playful, and Wilson wondered about that for half a second before instinct kicked in and he surged forward, hands to either side of House’s neck, thumbs on his jaw, pulling his shocked face – caught you, you bastard – forward toward his own questing mouth.
This time Wilson’s eyes closed. This time there was motion, and heat, and tongue, and a tilting of his head to find the best angle to bring their mouths closer. His bottom lip had just scraped across stubble when a voice came down from the heavens – “CUT!” – and Wilson slipped away into the ether.
Bob pulled his hands away from Hugh, retreated to a politer distance, and dug into the pocket of Wilson’s lab coat for his glasses. He was wondering if he could talk one of the crew into getting him a soda when Hugh spoke. “What the hell was that?”
House’s voice with Hugh’s personality behind it always made Bob smile, and this was no exception. “What was what?”
“The kissing!” Hugh threw his arms up, narrowly missing the woman who was coming around to touch up his makeup. “That wasn’t in the script!”
Bob was utterly confused and let it show. “If I’m recalling correctly the events that happened not two minutes ago, you were the one who ad-libbed a liplock instead of sticking to the script.”
“It was a joke – something amusing for the gag reel! And then you go and...” As he trailed off, Hugh’s face contorted interestingly.
Bob shrugged. “Wilson didn’t think it was a joke.” He waited a second for the people working near them to move away, and then leaned in closer to Hugh. “I’m pretty sure by the end House didn’t think it was a joke, either.”
“Take ten minutes; we need to correct a problem with the lights,” the director called, making Bob a very happy man. He had time to grab a soda and a snack – that would really hit the spot.
Title: Kiss
Author: Dee Laundry
Rating: PG
Words: 595
Summary: How it might happen on the show. (ficlet for
no_eden's H/W kissing meme)Wilson was annoyed and exasperated. It seemed like he and House had had this exact same conversation a dozen times.
“You can not be serious about proposing to this woman. Three divorces weren’t enough of a clue that you can’t make marriage work?”
Wilson drew himself up to his full height and put his hands on his hips. “I’m sick and tired of this, House. Sick and tired. You have to make it a huge character flaw of mine, don’t you? It has to be something intrinsically wrong with me, because if you think about this specific relationship I have, with this specific woman, there’s nothing wrong with it. Absolutely no reason why I shouldn’t propose to her, marry her, and live happily ever after.”
House looked down and away, and Wilson was positive he was right. That the expected sense of triumph didn’t flood his veins was probably due to his weariness at going over this again and again.
Just one more pressing of the point. “You can’t do it. You can’t give me one good reason why it wouldn’t last between me and –” He hadn’t even breathed the first sound of his girlfriend’s name when House’s lips pressed to his, rendering him mute.
It was a hard kiss, with something to prove, open mouthed but with no tongue, House’s hands gripping Wilson’s biceps for balance. Wilson wasn’t used to the angle, someone swooping down from above. Suprised, he didn’t even have time to close his eyes before House let go and pulled back.
There was the beginning of a grin on House’s face, unusually soft and playful, and Wilson wondered about that for half a second before instinct kicked in and he surged forward, hands to either side of House’s neck, thumbs on his jaw, pulling his shocked face – caught you, you bastard – forward toward his own questing mouth.
This time Wilson’s eyes closed. This time there was motion, and heat, and tongue, and a tilting of his head to find the best angle to bring their mouths closer. His bottom lip had just scraped across stubble when a voice came down from the heavens – “CUT!” – and Wilson slipped away into the ether.
Bob pulled his hands away from Hugh, retreated to a politer distance, and dug into the pocket of Wilson’s lab coat for his glasses. He was wondering if he could talk one of the crew into getting him a soda when Hugh spoke. “What the hell was that?”
House’s voice with Hugh’s personality behind it always made Bob smile, and this was no exception. “What was what?”
“The kissing!” Hugh threw his arms up, narrowly missing the woman who was coming around to touch up his makeup. “That wasn’t in the script!”
Bob was utterly confused and let it show. “If I’m recalling correctly the events that happened not two minutes ago, you were the one who ad-libbed a liplock instead of sticking to the script.”
“It was a joke – something amusing for the gag reel! And then you go and...” As he trailed off, Hugh’s face contorted interestingly.
Bob shrugged. “Wilson didn’t think it was a joke.” He waited a second for the people working near them to move away, and then leaned in closer to Hugh. “I’m pretty sure by the end House didn’t think it was a joke, either.”
“Take ten minutes; we need to correct a problem with the lights,” the director called, making Bob a very happy man. He had time to grab a soda and a snack – that would really hit the spot.
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