au_muses: Introduction
Greg House didn't bother to knock, just went right in and sat down in the chair across from James Wilson's desk. James didn't look up from the paperwork he was doing, nor did he say anything.
He did, however, grab the little blue stuffed bear out of Greg's hand almost the second he picked it up. Greg made a little sneering face, which James ignored as he placed the bear out of Greg's reach.
"What's for lunch?" Greg asked without preamble. James did glance at him then, and pulled out a couple of sandwiches for them.
Greg didn't like it when James made enough for both of them. He much preferred stealing the food James made for himself. Which is why he made a slight face at the other man.
"You could always find someone else to pick on," James commented lightly. "You've been picking on me since the fourth grade; there's nothing wrong with a change now and then."
He didn't mean it. He never did. Besides, they both knew Greg would never find someone else to "pick on". So they ate lunch, commenting on Greg's latest case, or his fellows, or the relative perkiness of Cuddy's breasts. Like always. It was routine.
Then, like always, they were done, and House popped a Vicodin and stood up, leaning heavily on his cane, and made a show of rolling his eyes while he submitted to a kiss from James. If he had to do the "lunchtime kiss" thing, Greg figured he'd at least get a good grope out of it, which made James roll his eyes, too. Like always.
"See, until that point, I was thinking you might get lucky tonight," James commented, a smile tugging at the corners of his lips.
"You'd be the one getting lucky," Greg quipped back as he walked out the door.
Word count: 307
He did, however, grab the little blue stuffed bear out of Greg's hand almost the second he picked it up. Greg made a little sneering face, which James ignored as he placed the bear out of Greg's reach.
"What's for lunch?" Greg asked without preamble. James did glance at him then, and pulled out a couple of sandwiches for them.
Greg didn't like it when James made enough for both of them. He much preferred stealing the food James made for himself. Which is why he made a slight face at the other man.
"You could always find someone else to pick on," James commented lightly. "You've been picking on me since the fourth grade; there's nothing wrong with a change now and then."
He didn't mean it. He never did. Besides, they both knew Greg would never find someone else to "pick on". So they ate lunch, commenting on Greg's latest case, or his fellows, or the relative perkiness of Cuddy's breasts. Like always. It was routine.
Then, like always, they were done, and House popped a Vicodin and stood up, leaning heavily on his cane, and made a show of rolling his eyes while he submitted to a kiss from James. If he had to do the "lunchtime kiss" thing, Greg figured he'd at least get a good grope out of it, which made James roll his eyes, too. Like always.
"See, until that point, I was thinking you might get lucky tonight," James commented, a smile tugging at the corners of his lips.
"You'd be the one getting lucky," Greg quipped back as he walked out the door.
Word count: 307