House MD Fanfiction

Piano Lesson

Hilson, smut, 2,684 words
By: benjimmy

‘Bruce Hornsby is a little advanced for the beginner.’

I had spent a good three and a half minutes trying to figure out what Wilson was attempting to play. It was halting, there was almost no consistency to the rhythm, and half of the notes were wrong.

‘What makes you think I’m a beginner?’

‘The fact that you’re turning a perfectly decent little song into a complete catastrophe.’

‘Help me figure out this verse?’

‘First it’ll be “help me figure out this verse.” Then you’ll want help with the chorus. Then I’ll have to teach you the bridge and the solo. Why don’t I just play you the song?’

Wilson rolled his eyes. ‘Please?’

‘What do I get out of it?’

‘You won’t have to listen to me butcher it anymore,’ Wilson suggested.

I shrugged. He had a good point so I went over to the piano and attempted to figure out where he was going wrong. ‘Okay, show me what you’re playing.’

With a shocking amount of fierce concentration on his face, Wilson’s eyes darted back and forth between the music and his fingers. After ten seconds or so, he finally pressed down on the keys, then pulled his hands back as if he’d been shocked. 

‘Ew.’ I leaned over, poking my head over Wilson’s shoulder to examine the music for a moment. ‘Did you completely neglect looking at the key signature? There’s two flats.’

‘Oh. Right.’

He readjusted his hands and played the chord again, correctly this time. 

‘Okay, now the melody moves around the chord, see? It’s all about the fingering. Once you’ve got that down, it’s easy.’ I almost choked on the word ‘fingering’ but I don’t think he noticed.

I moved my head around Wilson’s other shoulder and placed my hands over the keyboard, taking a deep breath. ‘Put your hands on top of mine.’

‘Huh?’

‘Muscle memory,’ I explained. Something my mom had done when I was a kid. ‘You put your fingers on mine. I’ll play the verse correctly, and your fingers follow along. Learn the pattern.’

Wilson sighed and reluctantly, stiffly rested his hands on mine. 

‘I don’t have cooties. Loosen up.’ 

He let his hands rest on mine a little heavier, and, figuring that was as good as it was going to get, I began to play the verse slowly. Wilson’s fingers followed along, relaxing a bit as I finished up and played the verse over again. 

I could tell Wilson was trying to pay attention, but he didn’t really seem to be absorbing much of anything. His hands were trembling a little, and his palms were definitely sweating. Mine were, too. My face was so close to his that when I breathed deeply or shifted my weight, our hair touched. And if either of us turned our heads, we’d definitely end up accidentally kissing. 

I hoped Wilson would turn his head.

‘This... this isn’t working, House,’ he mumbled at some point. I’ve no idea where; I was playing purely on instinct.

I took my hands off the keyboard to think for a moment, then, getting an idea, grasped Wilson’s left wrist and moved it so his thumb and pinky finger were resting on B flats. His pulse was... well, not insanely high, but certainly higher than one would expect during a fairly restful activity.