House MD Fanfiction

Just Take It

Hilson, smut, 2,859 words
By: l57371

'You know what your problem is?' asked Wilson. He was standing in the doorway of House's kitchen, arms crossed, feet wide apart, breathing just a little heavier than normal. He was braced and ready for battle.

'No, but I'm sure you're going to tell me in excruciating detail,' House replied, mouth full of chow mein. He vaguely waved his chopsticks toward Wilson without taking his eyes off the television. 'Feel free to just record your little speech this time so that next time we can do this without actually having to have the lecture. Have the Chinese place include the tape with the food delivery. Much more convenient that way.'

'Oh, well, forgive me for providing you with food, and clean dishes to eat it off of. I know what a pain it is to have to put up with eating what I provide all the time. If only there was some other way of acquiring sustenance without having to deal with my obviously unwelcome presence. Oh wait! I know! Use your own money!' Now Wilson was pacing, throwing his hands in the air, gesturing dramatically.

House finally glanced up at him with a withering glare, sarcasm in his voice. 'Now why would I do that when I can just take yours?' He wondered briefly if Wilson knew why he always took things from him. Probably not, if they were having this conversation again. Maybe he could finally get Wilson to notice this time.

'And THAT'S your problem!' Wilson shouted back, whirling back to face him and shaking a finger in his face. 'You just take! You take whatever you want without any thought as to what anyone else wants! You takeeverything without so much as a by your leave, and you never - EVER! - give anything back.'

'I gave you beer. And besides, you know where my wallet is. You could have gotten money out of it to pay for the food.' House shifted and leaned forward, stabbing his chopsticks in the air in Wilson's direction. 'You just don't because it suits you to first play the caretaker and then play the martyr about being a caretaker.'

'Your wallet's in your pocket. What am I supposed to do, wrestle you for it?' Now it was Wilson's turn for a dip in the sarcasm pool. He crossed his arms again and leaned on the doorframe.

If that's what floats your boat, sure, I can work with that,House thought. What he said, though, was, 'Take it. Just ... take it. Take what you want.' Please just take it! He put down the food carton and the chopsticks and placed his hands on his knees, ready for it.

'Oh please, you wouldn't let me take your wallet away from you if it was on fire. No, much easier to make me do it.' Wilson stalked back into the kitchen with a huff. House let out a sigh, levered himself up off the couch and followed, frustration building within him at his friend's obtuseness. Deliberate or not, he mused. It possibly was on purpose, since his friend had an unfortunate habit of ignoring things about House that he didn't want to face. Like returning pain for instance, he thought wryly.

He stopped when he reached the doorway and looked over at the agitated form of his best friend. Wilson was leaning on the counter over the sink, arms straight, head hanging low between his shoulders, back stiff. His shirtsleeves were rolled up to his elbows, his tie was gone and his collar buttons were open, exposing the soft skin of his throat and a little of his upper chest. House's breathing quickened just a bit at the sight. This was the Wilson he liked best, relaxed and out of uniform. Well, maybe not relaxed at the moment.

'No one made you do anything. You did it of your own free will,' House said softly as he took one step into the kitchen, abandoning the cane at the door. It was easier to move around the kitchen using the counters instead. He kept his eyes on Wilson, who still hadn't turned around.

'Of course I did. Just like I always do. Because if I don't you just take it anyway!' Wilson raised one hand and made a fist, but then just put it firmly back onto the counter with a light thump.