Allison Cameron (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
as_damaged) wrote2010-03-07 12:09 pm
as_damaged) wrote2010-03-07 12:09 pm
☤ thirty-five
|[ Unintentionally 'saved' to the Network ]|
[these are obviously just snippets of a much longer story Cameron has apparently written]
"Shut up and just write the damn 'scrip." He turned to walk away, favoring his leg more than usual. Wilson winced, pen poised above his prescription pad, concern evident in his dark eyes. It was always the same thing-- and what's worse, these visits were getting more and more frequent of late, as though no amount of pills would make a dent in his friend's pain. His heart broke every time he scrawled out the dosage, knowing it wouldn't be enough-- wouldn't last half as long as it ought to. Slowly and surely House was killing himself to keep the pain at bay.
The clatter of the pen hitting the desk shattered the silence. The older doctor's shoulders squared perceptibly as he steeled himself for another inevitable, interminable argument about the medication he needed, another heavy-handed and sanctimonious lecture about how he needed to take care of himself. He turned after a moment.
Wilson was already beside him, and as House opened his mouth to start the argument-- sooner begun was sooner ended, after all-- the younger man silenced him with a rash and unexpected kiss. Too startled to protest, House let the rush of adrenaline carry him back the few paces to the oncologist's sofa. Stumbling he landed on the cushions, silenced by the unaccustomed aggression-- to say nothing of the startling flood of lust and endorphins.
His hands firmly planted on House's shoulders, Wilson wordlessly knelt on the sofa, straddling his friend's lap and leaning in to kiss him again, offering the older man no time to protest. Not that House was inclined to do so. The eternally rational, analytical part of him didn't bother trying to decide whether he was in love with Wilson; just trying to figure out exactly when and how it had happened.
Not that the details mattered right now, with Wilson tugging at the collar of his shirt, undoing the few buttons House ever bothered to button. He would certainly want to talk this into the ground later, anyway; no reason to dwell on it when he could instead be focusing on the physical upsides. Like the fact that this was a surprisingly effective distraction from his leg.
Wilson's hand shot across his chest to catch House by the wrist as he reached for the pill bottle on the night stand.
"Don't you dare," he said sternly.
"Why should I, you're enough of a pill," he grumbled, pulling his arm free to spite the oncologist. He didn't make another try for the vicodin, though; settling uncomfortably against the pillows and pulling at the covers, oddly ashamed. Being naked was supposed to make you feel vulnerable. Admittedly, it was more the baring of his wounded leg that troubled him than anything else.
That, he mused, had a lot to do with why he'd ended up in bed with James Wilson, of all people; he was one of the few people who didn't let the disability define the man. Hookers were one thing-- impersonal in their intimacy, disinclined to get emotionally involved. If they pitied him, they rarely said anything; and given the endless supply of moderately attractive young women willing to do anything for the right price, he never had to see them a second time.
Something more than sex was infinitely more difficult, though; it's why he couldn't give Cameron what she wanted, although he did care for her. He knew, deep down, that he wasn't just his injury that drew her to him, as well; but it had been a convenient reason to turn her away. She did want to be the one to fix him. But it wasn't that simple-- no amount of love or care would regrow his missing muscles, and it seemed ridiculous to think she could somehow save him in spite of it.
Wilson didn't care. Well, that was a lie; Wilson cared, infinitely and intimately. Wilson cared about anything and everything. But it had never made a difference between them.
As though thinking of him had caught the other man's attention, Wilson shifted, rolling onto one side to regard him.
"I'm surprised."
"I'd be worried if you weren't," he replied, lifting an eyebrow. "I was, and I started it."
"I meant that you didn't insist on cuddling." The deadpan delivery managed to convey something touching, and though the oncologist simply snorted a laugh and rolled over, when House woke up later the other man's head was on his shoulder. He didn't mind in the least.
"What the hell is wrong with you?" Cuddy imperiously whined, leaning forward so the neckline of her blouse draped dangerously low. She was accustomed to a certain amount of attention from the curmudgeonly doctor; apparently, the lack of inappropriate commentary was leaving her unsatisfied.
"Absolutely nothing," he replied absently. "Just give me permission to run that test and I'm out of your way for the rest of the day."
Her eyes narrowed. House being in a good mood was almost always a bad sign for someone; but this wasn't the usual malicious glee she'd come to expect, something she could work with. He'd done his clinic hours without complaint; there were no reports from the pharmacy of unusual amounts of painkillers being dispensed, and one of the nurses she'd questioned (being not only the closest thing House had to a stalker, but also in charge of the entire hospital and thus best prepared to stalk him,) had said he'd been singing when he came in this morning.
"You must've paid some hooker's way through college last night," she said spitefully, relenting and signing the form on her desk.
House scoffed. "Why do you think Wilson's not in today..?"
Cuddy stopped, to stare at him in disbelief.
 | |[ Delivered Anonymously to Dr. James Wilson ]| [not work-friendly link] |
 | |[ Delivered Anonymously to Dr. Gregory House ]| [totally work-friendly link] |
[ooc; no offense intended to those who may like particular pairings, but the House fandom is notorious for its shipping wars and Cameron will be defending this to the death. OPINIONS EXPRESSED BY ALLISON CAMERON TODAY DO NOT REFLECT THE VIEWS OF THE MANAGEMENT. She's got some really nasty stuff to say & I apologize in advance.
ALSO, I AM STILL IN CANADA. Expect epic backdating because of this. Please assume the story post went up somewhat later in the day than the gifts. SOB. /runs away to Toronto <3]
Voice;
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Oh god. HOUSE AND WILSON ARE JUST FRIENDS. WHAT IS YOUR MENTAL DEFICIENCY. Why can't two guys spend time in the same room without some undersexed woman fantasising that they want to jump each other.
Voice;
Sure they can, but not those two. They're totally in love. They want to hold each other and whisper sweet nothings in each other's ear but they're both scared of getting their hearts broken. AND I AM NOT UNDERSEXED JUST BECAUSE I SEE WHAT OTHER PEOPLE REFUSE TO.
Voice;
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THERE IS NO RELATIONSHIP BETWEEN HOUSE AND CUDDY AND THERE NEVER WILL BE.
Voice;
O RLY.
Voice;
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Voice;
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Get rid of that. Now.
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Where are these even coming from?
TAKE THAT OFF THE NETWORK.