Hey lol. So I haven't posted in a while... My love for the Dsmp kinda dwindled out over time and I've been kinda all over the place in terms of interests. But my latest and longest lasting in a while is House MD and Dead Poets Society.
This book(?) will be filled with one-shots of both fandoms, mostly House MD. I know most people who read my things probably don't know about House and DPS but I just love them both so much and I need to post something again lmao.
I hope you enjoy!!
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"You're late."
Those two words rang through the office like an obnoxious bell. House hobbled to the whiteboard, ignoring Foremen.
"Astute observation, Sherlock Holmes," he quipped. "Whats the case?" No one responded immediately. They all seemed too caught up in thought. House turned on his heels and eyed them all. He raised his eyebrows.
"15-year old girl showing fatigue and muscle cramps to the point of paralysis," Thirteen eventually stuttered out. House thought on it for a moment before opening his mouth to dismiss it, but Foremen got to it first.
"In fact, Wilson was also late."
House glared up at Foremen with conflicted eyes. After a few moments of a pretty entertaining staring contest House faltered ever so slightly and looked away. Foremen gave a small smirk to his co-workers. They weren't as amused.
House shuffled onto his good foot before huffing out of the room.
"House?" Thirteen called after him, but he didn't even acknowledge her. The ducklings shot glares at Foremen.
"Now we have to do this case alone, cause you chased House away!" Taub said scoldingly. Foremen just shrugged.
"He's heading to Wilson's office to complain, he'll be back soon."
---
"He fucking got me! I don't know how, but he did!"
Wilson just rolled his eyes, squeezing his hands together.
"House, I have work to do, so do you. We can talk about this over lunch," the man reasoned, his voice growing soft. House stopped pacing to look at him. The cogs in his brain turned and cranked. Wilson shot him a small smile.
"I'll pay."
House scoffed and rolled his eyes, walking out.
"Damn right you will!" He called over his shoulder.
Wilson smiled, going back to his paperwork.
---
Foremen and the team had come up with a diagnosis and wrote it on the board for House to inspect when he came back. They had already started testing.
House shuffled back into his office, catching the board out of the corner of his eye and huffing. He fell back into his chair with a sigh.
He needed Vicodin. His next therapy session was next week. No Vicodin for Gregory House.
---
"House."
The doctor's eyes fluttered open to see Wilson standing over him. He immediately smiled at the sight of his.. boyfriend? Maybe..
"Fell asleep, dear," House quipped. Wilson rolled his eyes, a glint of love in them that anyone could see.
"Well wake up, I need you," Wilson harped, holding out his hand for House to grab. House smiled. He raised both his arms and made grabby hands, puckering his lips.
"Since you wanna be so desperate, come here," he said gruffly. Wilson froze for a moment then clicked his head to the side to stare at the ground. At first House didn't understand why Wilson was being invasive, normally he'd climb into his lap with a scoff.
Someone cleared their throat behind Wilson and it clicked for House. House sat up in the chair and leaned to spot his team behind Wilson.
"Oh," he said simply, looking annoyed. Foremen raised his eyebrows with a short smile. And the others behind him seemed just a little surprised.
"Yeah," Wilson blinked. He held his hand out to House.
"Still need you, House, come on." House sighed and took his hand, reluctantly getting out of his seat. Once he was right on his feet he gripped Wilson's arm and pulled him close.
"Do I have to?" He whined. Wilson rolled his eyes and nodded.
"Come on, it's your patient. I shouldn't even be here," Wilson grumbled. House let go of Wilson and huffed, following his team out of the office.
"Lunch is still on me, I guess.."
"It is!"
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My writing is a little rusty and this is my first one-shot in a bit so please bare with me. Things get better I promise lmao