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Stages of Love
by Rumrunner
100 words on each stage of love: Attraction, Romance, Passion, Intimacy & Commitment, I stole the challenge from lj and I don't own House
Attraction:
He catches House giving him a look. Not the usual snark, or amusement or even reflection. A look that makes his stomach tighten though he doesn't know why. He flushes hotly and looks away. Focus on the diagnosis. Yes, that's it. He doesn't think it's cancer; none of the markers- God, House is looking at him again. The ducklings don't notice their boss's distraction or his discomfiture. It's amazing how people can miss what's right under their noses. He supposes he's grateful. If Julie knew about House's looks...but then he remembers the divorce. Julie is long gone. Only House remains.
Romance:
The first kiss is awkward; he's unused to being shorter and the stubble feels downright weird, but the moment after it ends is much worse. He's just snogged his best friend. It was sort of an accident, he really hadn't planned on doing it, but there's no easy excuse. No sorry, my lips accidentally ran into yours, no boy, I sure am wasted.
"That was unexpected," he says finally, for lack of anything better. He tries to avoid squirming beneath the stare of those pale blue eyes.
House licks his lips and Wilson wonders what he tastes like. "Not really."
Passion:
He really should be getting back; it's not going to be long before Cuddy starts wondering how long this `consult' is going to last. But he should at least wait until he regains his breath. And quits flushing like a naughty school boy. Which isn't easy since he feels like a naughty school boy.
He watches House reach for his pill bottle. "More vicodin?"
"What, going to lecture me on the evils of addiction? The first step to recovery-"
"Actually, if it let us do what we just did, I think I'd like to write them and thank them personally."
Intimacy:
He was worried he'd be unable to look at it or would be unable to look away. House was already self-conscious enough and hated being seen naked. But he needn't have worried. He's fascinated instead by the scarred flesh of House's thigh, the physical damage a reminder of the mental. He traces it lightly, just the tips of his fingers stroking the abused flesh. House hisses and he's worried that he's hurt him, but the expression on House's face is anything but pained. He runs nimble fingers up and in. House's breath hitches in response. Wilson smiles. This'll be interesting.
Commitment:
They're arguing over closet space. The few times he'd crashed here before they were a `we' he'd always been careful to store his stuff in his suitcase. As if keeping his toothbrush in the medicine cabinet was crossing a boundary. "There's no way you need that much space. I'm pretty sure you never hang anything up." He eyes House's wrinkled shirt.
"It's my apartment."
"Not anymore, it's not."
Greg looks at him for a long moment and he braces himself for the scathing remark, but House just shrugs and shoves the hangers over to exactly halfway. "You want some pizza?"
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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 NBC/Universal, 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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