First Kisses (13/13) for meganat0r "A Shift in Gears"
xiii. A Shift in Gears
Prompt was: straps, best, capacity, gearshift, substantial, attitude
Given me by: meganat0r
A/N: If you're interested, the car in question is here.
Wilson was waiting by the handicapped parking area, hands on his hips, looking pissy. His capacity for pissiness before having his morning bowl of cereal and cups, plural, of coffee, was substantial, so House pulled in with his best and brightest smile on.
"Good morning, sunshine!" he says with false cheerfulness, tossing Wilson his backpack.
"What the hell do you think you're doing?"
"Driving in to work?" House's voice has a hopeful note. He knows there's no correct answer to this one, he isn't exactly sure which naughty bad thing he's done that Wilson would have found about this early in the morning, and doesn't want to give himself away just yet, "Living the American dream?"
"You called me in sick!"
"Oh, that." Dammit, he was hoping Cuddy would get to him before Wilson. She always bitched him out first, that was always how it went. She had to choose today to go against type.
"I have patients, responsibilities..."
"I have a new car."
"Which I noticed, and don't try to change the subject!"
House frowns, poking out his bottom lip, "I don't think I like your attitude, Mr. Wilson."
"Oh, shut up." Wilson is still frowning, but that seems to be the end of his tirade. "Alright, where are we going?"
House's face lights up, "So this was just the pre-trip bitch-out?"
Sighing, Wilson opens the passenger door, "The first of many, I'm sure." He throws House's backpack by the straps into the backseat.
"Like it?"
"Bitching you out, or the car?"
"I already know you like bitching me out. It's your hobby."
"It's my calling. And there is nothing not to like about this car."
" '69 Chevelle. Your favorite."
"She's beautiful, a work of art. I love the color. Don't try to butter me up." Wilson is amused, and if his voice is any indication, somewhat turned on.
House grinned, holding out the keys and jingling them enticingly, "I'll even let you drive." He knows what muscle cars do to Wilson, and he's not above exploiting it to the utmost.
"Now you are trying to butter me up," Wilson says, but he's already straddled the gearshift on his way to the driver's seat.
"Just a second," House says, pulling the keys out of Wilson's reach, "What's in it for me?"
Wilson's eyes narrow, and his face takes on the calculating look that House knows and loves so well. "Is that what this is all about?"
House grins, and puts the keys in Wilson's hands. "Not really. Can't I just want to spend some time with my very bestest friend."
Wilson puts the key in the ignition, and turns, and the engine roars to life. The engine purrs and growls and Wilson's face is near-orgasmic with lust. House slides into the passenger seat, and slams the door with great gusto.
"Hey, hey, watch it!" Wilson cries, smacking House's knee. "She's a lady, you can't just slam her around like that."
House chuckles, and his hand closes over the pin-up girl knob of the gearshift.
Wilson smiles his most breathtaking smile, and pinches House's wrist hard. "Let her go, and no one gets hurt."
With a laugh, House leans in close, and pulls Wilson's face to his. The kiss is as gentle and hesitant as the car is not, and Wilson surrenders with a soft sigh.
The kiss ends, but the hesitancy is still there. For House, anyway. Wilson seems happier, softer around the edges than he has been in months, maybe years.
"Damn you," he says softly, and House jerks his head up anxiously.
"Wha..."
Wilson's kiss is neither gentle, nor hesitant, and there is no doubt that he is doing exactly what he wants to do.
"You knew I couldn't resist her."
Prompt was: straps, best, capacity, gearshift, substantial, attitude
Given me by: meganat0r
A/N: If you're interested, the car in question is here.
Wilson was waiting by the handicapped parking area, hands on his hips, looking pissy. His capacity for pissiness before having his morning bowl of cereal and cups, plural, of coffee, was substantial, so House pulled in with his best and brightest smile on.
"Good morning, sunshine!" he says with false cheerfulness, tossing Wilson his backpack.
"What the hell do you think you're doing?"
"Driving in to work?" House's voice has a hopeful note. He knows there's no correct answer to this one, he isn't exactly sure which naughty bad thing he's done that Wilson would have found about this early in the morning, and doesn't want to give himself away just yet, "Living the American dream?"
"You called me in sick!"
"Oh, that." Dammit, he was hoping Cuddy would get to him before Wilson. She always bitched him out first, that was always how it went. She had to choose today to go against type.
"I have patients, responsibilities..."
"I have a new car."
"Which I noticed, and don't try to change the subject!"
House frowns, poking out his bottom lip, "I don't think I like your attitude, Mr. Wilson."
"Oh, shut up." Wilson is still frowning, but that seems to be the end of his tirade. "Alright, where are we going?"
House's face lights up, "So this was just the pre-trip bitch-out?"
Sighing, Wilson opens the passenger door, "The first of many, I'm sure." He throws House's backpack by the straps into the backseat.
"Like it?"
"Bitching you out, or the car?"
"I already know you like bitching me out. It's your hobby."
"It's my calling. And there is nothing not to like about this car."
" '69 Chevelle. Your favorite."
"She's beautiful, a work of art. I love the color. Don't try to butter me up." Wilson is amused, and if his voice is any indication, somewhat turned on.
House grinned, holding out the keys and jingling them enticingly, "I'll even let you drive." He knows what muscle cars do to Wilson, and he's not above exploiting it to the utmost.
"Now you are trying to butter me up," Wilson says, but he's already straddled the gearshift on his way to the driver's seat.
"Just a second," House says, pulling the keys out of Wilson's reach, "What's in it for me?"
Wilson's eyes narrow, and his face takes on the calculating look that House knows and loves so well. "Is that what this is all about?"
House grins, and puts the keys in Wilson's hands. "Not really. Can't I just want to spend some time with my very bestest friend."
Wilson puts the key in the ignition, and turns, and the engine roars to life. The engine purrs and growls and Wilson's face is near-orgasmic with lust. House slides into the passenger seat, and slams the door with great gusto.
"Hey, hey, watch it!" Wilson cries, smacking House's knee. "She's a lady, you can't just slam her around like that."
House chuckles, and his hand closes over the pin-up girl knob of the gearshift.
Wilson smiles his most breathtaking smile, and pinches House's wrist hard. "Let her go, and no one gets hurt."
With a laugh, House leans in close, and pulls Wilson's face to his. The kiss is as gentle and hesitant as the car is not, and Wilson surrenders with a soft sigh.
The kiss ends, but the hesitancy is still there. For House, anyway. Wilson seems happier, softer around the edges than he has been in months, maybe years.
"Damn you," he says softly, and House jerks his head up anxiously.
"Wha..."
Wilson's kiss is neither gentle, nor hesitant, and there is no doubt that he is doing exactly what he wants to do.
"You knew I couldn't resist her."