Blah blah ficlet blah
Feb. 20th, 2010 07:36 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
moose_mcmooseThis is probably crap but I'm just trying to write myself out of a block....so whatever.
Title: Home-Less
Characters: Wilson., mentions of House
Rating: PG
Disclaimer: I don't own them. A shame, as then I could buy some new jeans.
Summary: Possible spoilers for future episodes. He had secretly hoped House would never leave.
He'd secretly hoped House would never leave.
He enjoyed the company, the bizarre combination of cooking smells that greeted his senses when he got home, the untouched laundry, the unwashed dishes, the unmade beds, because, secretly, Wilson enjoyed waiting on him. He enjoyed cleaning up after the tornado that is Gregory House had ripped its way through the apartment. Of course, he wouldn't tell House he enjoyed it. House would mock him, call him spineless, tell Wilson that he doesn't need to be taken care of and that after all the work Wilson did getting this damn loft, he was going backwards again.
But what can he do? Old habits die hard.
It only strikes him how big this place is when there is only one person in it. Every movement echoes and reverberates. There are empty spaces everywhere, places which his has no idea how to fill because, apart from linen, clothes and cooking utensils, he really has nothing in here at all. His posters are still in storage, so are his photographs, his books, his records, his ridiculous chair, shaped like a hand, he's had since college, even his bookcase hasn't been touched since he had moved out from Julie's place.
He had hoped House would fill it all, every nook and cranny with some random and pointless item like he had done in his old apartment. He had hoped that one day hed come home and find House's piano rammed in one corner and his intimidating, dark walnut bookcase in the other, with journals and books scattered aimlessly in between. But that never happened. Neither of them made the first move. Sure, House had bought that grotesque looking couch, Wilson had bought that now defunct flat screen television, but neither of them had breached the space and made it their own. Everything remained pale and new, with clean lines and sparkling white paint at every turn.
This place wasn't him, and it sure as hell wasn't House, so it was no wonder he decided to go back to his old place.
Maybe, he thinks, he should do the same thing. Move out, move on, because he never really wanted this place. He only bought it in retaliation to Cuddy's little stunts, to prove that he could so something impulsive, protective and vaguely outragious when pushed.
He had never planned to live here alone.
*******************************************
The sheets were crisp, the bathroom utterly spotless, and the bed sunk pleasingly in the middle when he dumped his bag onto the linen. It was amazing how little had changed in two years. The same decor still daubed the walls, the same curtains draped loosely across the windows, even the same maid was on duty when he had checked in downstairs. She gave him a jovial greeting and a peck on the cheek when she spotted him wandering through the foyer.
He fiddled the key through his fingers as she plumped up the pillows and rested a small pile of fresh, clean towels onto the end of the bed. With a small, gracious smile she left, hanging a 'Do Not Disturb' sign on the doorknob as she left.
He lay on the bed, arms intertwined around the back of his head, his muscles relaxing into the material beneath, the ticking alarm clock sending him into an satisfying doze.
He knew this wasn't home either, but it was the closest he was going to get to it.
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alternatealto wrote a sequel which is obviously fantastic. So go read here
Title: Home-Less
Characters: Wilson., mentions of House
Rating: PG
Disclaimer: I don't own them. A shame, as then I could buy some new jeans.
Summary: Possible spoilers for future episodes. He had secretly hoped House would never leave.
He'd secretly hoped House would never leave.
He enjoyed the company, the bizarre combination of cooking smells that greeted his senses when he got home, the untouched laundry, the unwashed dishes, the unmade beds, because, secretly, Wilson enjoyed waiting on him. He enjoyed cleaning up after the tornado that is Gregory House had ripped its way through the apartment. Of course, he wouldn't tell House he enjoyed it. House would mock him, call him spineless, tell Wilson that he doesn't need to be taken care of and that after all the work Wilson did getting this damn loft, he was going backwards again.
But what can he do? Old habits die hard.
It only strikes him how big this place is when there is only one person in it. Every movement echoes and reverberates. There are empty spaces everywhere, places which his has no idea how to fill because, apart from linen, clothes and cooking utensils, he really has nothing in here at all. His posters are still in storage, so are his photographs, his books, his records, his ridiculous chair, shaped like a hand, he's had since college, even his bookcase hasn't been touched since he had moved out from Julie's place.
He had hoped House would fill it all, every nook and cranny with some random and pointless item like he had done in his old apartment. He had hoped that one day hed come home and find House's piano rammed in one corner and his intimidating, dark walnut bookcase in the other, with journals and books scattered aimlessly in between. But that never happened. Neither of them made the first move. Sure, House had bought that grotesque looking couch, Wilson had bought that now defunct flat screen television, but neither of them had breached the space and made it their own. Everything remained pale and new, with clean lines and sparkling white paint at every turn.
This place wasn't him, and it sure as hell wasn't House, so it was no wonder he decided to go back to his old place.
Maybe, he thinks, he should do the same thing. Move out, move on, because he never really wanted this place. He only bought it in retaliation to Cuddy's little stunts, to prove that he could so something impulsive, protective and vaguely outragious when pushed.
He had never planned to live here alone.
*******************************************
The sheets were crisp, the bathroom utterly spotless, and the bed sunk pleasingly in the middle when he dumped his bag onto the linen. It was amazing how little had changed in two years. The same decor still daubed the walls, the same curtains draped loosely across the windows, even the same maid was on duty when he had checked in downstairs. She gave him a jovial greeting and a peck on the cheek when she spotted him wandering through the foyer.
He fiddled the key through his fingers as she plumped up the pillows and rested a small pile of fresh, clean towels onto the end of the bed. With a small, gracious smile she left, hanging a 'Do Not Disturb' sign on the doorknob as she left.
He lay on the bed, arms intertwined around the back of his head, his muscles relaxing into the material beneath, the ticking alarm clock sending him into an satisfying doze.
He knew this wasn't home either, but it was the closest he was going to get to it.
alternatealto wrote a sequel which is obviously fantastic. So go read here
![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
no subject
Date: 20/02/2010 08:37 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 20/02/2010 11:47 pm (UTC)Thanks for reading and commenting XD
no subject
Date: 20/02/2010 09:16 pm (UTC)Wilson, Wilson. The thing for you to do is to go to House's place, drag him into bed, blow his mind (and the rest of him), and tell him if he wants more it's waiting for him at your place -- but only if he agrees to move back in. Then murmur sexily what time you'll expect him tomorrow night, kiss him good-bye, and leave. Don't go to work tomorrow, don't answer your phone.
He'll be there.
no subject
Date: 20/02/2010 11:42 pm (UTC)LMAO! Cheers for reading and commenting.
no subject
Date: 21/02/2010 02:23 am (UTC)Hmmmmmmm . . . .
. . . she says, thoughtfully.
no subject
Date: 21/02/2010 10:14 am (UTC)Queen of Angsty Smut...do your thang ;)Hehe
I Have Something For You!!
Date: 23/02/2010 02:09 am (UTC)Please feel free to take this icon!!
=)
I asked my dearest love and occasional beta-reader to create it just for you (although I may use it myself from time to time).
Enjoy!
(And for pity's sake, don't use it on me, I'm writing as fast as I can . . . !) ;-)
Re: I Have Something For You!!
Date: 23/02/2010 10:17 am (UTC)Re: I Have Something For You!!
Date: 23/02/2010 01:32 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 20/02/2010 09:34 pm (UTC)I love this ficlet, it's great! Very insightful, both in House as in Wilson! So: wow!
And on a different note - I howled with laughter at you suitcase-tag!
no subject
Date: 20/02/2010 11:43 pm (UTC)I'm glad you enjoyed it. Cheers for reading and commenting XD XD XD
no subject
Date: 21/02/2010 01:15 am (UTC)Thanks for sharing.
no subject
Date: 21/02/2010 10:12 am (UTC)Cheers for reading and commenting. XD
no subject
Date: 23/02/2010 02:26 pm (UTC)I do so wish House would move the piano in on the show. It would give e much more confidence.
no subject
Date: 23/02/2010 03:33 pm (UTC)Thanks for reading and commenting XD
no subject
Date: 23/02/2010 03:28 pm (UTC)Nicely written. :)
no subject
Date: 23/02/2010 03:36 pm (UTC)Cheers for reading and commenting XD
no subject
Date: 23/02/2010 04:34 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 23/02/2010 07:14 pm (UTC)Thanks for reading and commenting XD
no subject
Date: 23/02/2010 06:11 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 23/02/2010 07:15 pm (UTC)Cheers for reading and commenting XD
no subject
Date: 13/03/2010 03:15 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 13/03/2010 04:32 am (UTC)Nicely written. You conveyed the feeling of emptiness masterfully. And I love that Wilson didn't want to stay there alone. :)