Tallian (_tallian_) wrote,

  • Mood:

Fic for wilson_fest: The House of No Pants

Title: The House of No Pants
Author: _tallian_
Prompt: 181. House decides that it’s just too hot to wear pants. Wilson’s reaction?
Rating: PG-13 at the most
Characters: Wilson, House
Warnings: some mild nudity, nothing graphic
Disclaimer: I do not own House, nor anything like it, just having fun!
Summary: House was wearing a faded Misfits t-shirt darkened with sweat in a few places, but what really caught and held Wilson's attention was the total lack of clothing from the waist down.

Thank you so much to the wonderful karaokegal for the amazing beta! I'll take Full Metal Beta any day. ;)

The last block to House's apartment was pure murder. Sweating profusely, Wilson stopped in front of the door, pausing to take one beer from the six pack and press the cool glass to one temple. It was over 100 degrees outside, and it was just like House to neglect to mention the construction around his building prohibiting parking for what had seemed like miles.

The deadbolt slid back with a thunk and the door opened a crack to let out a draft of even hotter air, one red-rimmed blue eye peeking out. Wilson raised the six-pack carton of microbrew.

House snaked out an arm and grabbed one bottle. "About time you got here!" The beer hissed behind the door as House twisted off the cap. "Cripple dying of heat exhaustion!" Uneven thumping heralded House's retreat back into the living room, leaving the door partially open.

Wilson resisted the urge to slam the door and go back home to his own, air-conditioned hotel room. He wavered on the edge of it, but curiosity won out. As usual. He slipped into the apartment and leaned back on the door to shut it. His nose wrinkled at the smell - more than the usual stale air, this was reaching for a "rancid garbage" designation. He looked around, spotting House's hand holding the stolen beer resting on the back of the couch.

Putting the beer on the coffee table, he turned to face House, now supine on the sofa. The incipient rant on hygiene got no further than opened lips.

House was wearing a faded Misfits t-shirt darkened with sweat in a few places, but what really caught and held Wilson's attention was the total lack of clothing from the waist down. Wilson recoiled, both hands warding off That Which Could Not Be Unseen.

"Jesus Christ, House! Give a guy some warning!" Feeling his face flushing hot, he turned his back to his half-naked best friend. Composure, composure - it's not like House didn't pull this kind of crap all the time -

"What, like you've never seen it before?" House taunted belligerently. "It's too hot for pants."

Wilson choked on an unwilling laugh. And underwear, apparently. It struck him suddenly that he hadn't seen House's bare legs more than once or twice since the infarction; he wondered if that were why the boxers were gone, too. Only House would be willing to use his dick to distract from something that to him was far more personal - the scar.

He put one hand to his temple to block his peripheral vision, determinedly looking downward. "Too hot for pants, but you leave your t-shirt on?"

"I have to express my rebellion against The Man somehow."

"The full frontal nudity isn't enough?" Well, partial frontal nudity, but it was the important part ...

"You got me. I'm shy." The deadpan delivery was the last straw. Wilson, already lightheaded from the heat, sat down abruptly on the floor in front of the sofa, howling with laughter.

"Watch it, you're getting "crazy" all over my beer." His tone was sly and satisfied and relieved, all at once.

The giddiness easing, Wilson decided that maintaining the light tone had been the right move. God, he missed talking to House like this. He took a deep breath and gagged on the odor that had started this bizarre conversation. "What the hell died in here? You letting homeless people cook for you these days?"

A pause, then another long slurp. "The power's been out for twelve hours, and I was trying to cool down the kitchen with the fridge. The lunch meat was acceptable collateral damage."

The giggle fit was trying to come back; Wilson swallowed hard, looking fixedly forward at the powerless television not playing General Hospital re-runs. Oh god, a reflection. He looked away quickly and bit his lip. "Why didn't you just come over to my place? Air conditioning, room service, cable -" Full clothing ...

House laughed derisively. "No way, mister. That would have involved putting my pants back on."
Tags: fanfic, house md, wilson_fest
  • Post a new comment


    default userpic

    Your reply will be screened

    Your IP address will be recorded 

    When you submit the form an invisible reCAPTCHA check will be performed.
    You must follow the Privacy Policy and Google Terms of use.