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Neck-And-Collar
by Druin
Note: This one goes out to Eruditz, who put in the request. Hope it's a fitting sequel ;) Title from REM's E-Bow.
"And then, said House, tapping his cane on the ground for emphasis as he recounted his latest Cuddy Woes to his poor clinic patient, "she told me that I'd better make up the hours I didn't do last week or else."
House huffed a sigh, and finally looked at the young man who was leaning on the medical bed. About 19; chin-length white-blond hair covering most of his face. House titled his head to the side and asked, "So, what's wrong with you, anyway?"
The man seemed to fidget, as if embarrassed or hesitant. "I think my boyfriend might have HIV," he said, and he looked up with defiance. "He wants to have sex, he keeps buying lingerie and tight pants and shows them off a lot-"
House stopped listening; in fact, everything stopped all too suddenly. Boyfriend. A boyfriend that bought lingerie, tight pants - specifically, new clothes - to impress his lover.
The answer, it seemed - after a whole week of bugging Wilson about his new love interest - had been right in front of him all along. He nearly cursed out loud; he hated it when the answers were the simple, sensible ones, and hated it more when they had to be pointed out to him. Not that ever happened.
"-really hesitant about coming in for tests, he always gets angry with me for mentioning it, is there-"
"Come back tomorrow with him," House interrupted, his mind elsewhere, "I'll test you both." The doctor opened the door, paused, and thanked the man before leaving.
Wilson was already waiting in his office when he arrived there. "I take it you were still on clinic duty when you paged me," his tone was amused. "How is that going for you?"
House frowned. "Don't mock me, and technically I'm still on clinic duty, only there were more important matters to attend to."
Wilson was curious, now. "Such as?"
"Such as informing you that I've figured you out, just like I said I would." House tapped his forefinger lightly, accusingly, on Wilson's chest.
Wilson raised an eyebrow. "Did you? And, pray, what conclusions did you draw up?"
The smile playing on House's face was a quirked, sadistic sort of smile, and Wilson got the distinct feeling that House really had solved this one. He was proved correct; House hooked his finger in Wilson's labcoat and pulled him close, leaning down just a little to kiss him. It was a gentle kiss, a soft pull, a light scrape of teeth on his bottom lip, and it was over all too fast for Wilson's liking.
He was too shocked to notice House making for the door, satisfied; by the time Wilson thought to follow House was out of sight.
--End--
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Legal Disclaimer: The authors published here make no claims on the ownership of Dr. Gregory House and the other fictional residents of Princeton-Plainsboro Teaching Hospital. Like the television show House (and quite possibly Dr. Wilson's pocket protector), they are the property of Fox Television, David Shore and undoubtedly other individuals of whom I am only peripherally aware. The fan fiction authors published here receive no monetary benefit from their work and intend no copyright infringement nor slight to the actual owners. We love the characters and we love the show, otherwise we wouldn't be here.
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