Lorelai and Wilson: Sockpuppeting! And also, an owl.

[waffleishappy.livejournal.com]

(Warning: tl;dr-ness and excessive use of the phrase 'Chunky Monkey'.)


( Whatever makes you happy // Whatever you want // You're so f*ckin' special // I wish I was special )

( Owl to House, not at all warded, although the owl looks a bit weirded out for some reason. )

Comments

[canes-can-kill.livejournal.com]

((*is unspeakably jealous, so she occupies herself until the torrent comes up with tagging and watching hawt Finnish guitarists ala CoB*))

"No, I just like telling huge lies and hearing myself talk," House rolled his eyes, but there was no real barb behind his sarcasm. Wilson would know the mocking denial was just a lot of hot air, just House being House and saying something in effort to clear up the tension. Because as fun as watching Wilson be totally flabbergasted was, it wasn't exactly the look he'd wanted to see resulting in this whole conversation.

He knew what had to be running through Wilson's head right now. It hadn't been that long since Julie had left, hell, it hadn't been that long since he had pushed Stacy away for a second time himself. And he understood the paranoia, he did, because they were both coming off fairly horrendous love lives and history like that couldn't exactly be ignored.

Still. Although House hated taking chances in some things, in other things it was just what he did, how he operated and how he got past all the little annoying things like regrets and hesitation. And Wilson was just looking too goddamn inviting not too, all flustered and half-smiling. "I guess you'd probably go into cardiac arrest if I kissed you right now," House smiled, unable to keep the slight sadness out of his voice, because he was right, Wilson probably would.

[jewboy-wonder.livejournal.com]

At least it was nice to know he hadn't changed any. At least one of them wasn't babbling like a prepubescent boy trying to work past pulling his crush's hair on the playground to show his affection. Honestly. "Well," he commented lightly, raising both eyebrows shortly and giving House a half-grin. "Long as nothing's changed, and the narcissism's still intact." Because, of all things, if they were really doing this... good God, he especially didn't want to lose that aspect of their interaction. That mindless teasing and the sarcasm and... Yes. He'd miss that.

House's words automatically set him slightly taken aback, just because it was so un-House. He actually laughed a bit, albeit nervously, because... Well, yeah, if he had done that out of the blue, without warning? Of course he would have gone into cardiac arrest. Prompted by overexertion or... general disbelief and shock. Something. But that tone to his voice when he spoke, the one that made him--

No. He was not comparing Greg House to a puppy. He didn't care how woeful that voice got.

"I..." he started to say, and grinned again, rubbing at the back of his neck. "I wouldn't know." His eyes jumped to House, then, half tentative and half... expectant? He didn't even know, anymore, at this juncture. Maybe he was just functioning on autopilot.

[canes-can-kill.livejournal.com]

((ANOTHER THREE WEEKS OH GOD. *goes insane* He can't help it, he's... something approaching happy :P))

"I'm incapable of change, you know that," House matched Wilson's half-grin with a smirk. "Even when I'm ninety years old I'll still be insulting everyone, and hey, I even got the cane early." He would have liked to say something along the lines of 'And hopefully we'll still be in each others lives', but House wasn't entirely sure if that was romantic or not, or even if he should be attempting romantic when he had no clue how to do it. So he'd settle for continuing the mindless teasing and sarcasm, which worked for him.

His grin grew a little when Wilson went from surprised and unsure to... something that House couldn't quite pin down, but he knew it wasn't a refusal. "That is so an invitation," House replied, apparently flippantly but looking far too intent to be so casual.

Thankfully the table in between them was only about a foot wide, so it wasn't far to lean, even if House's bad leg was pressed against the edge and currently very fucking uncomfortable. But he didn't care right now, so House reached across and twined his fingers into Wilson's collar, pulling him forward gently until they were barely an inch apart. "Gonna have a heart attack now?" He murmured, really hoping Wilson didn't back out suddenly because honestly, he wasn't sure if he'd be able to stop himself.

[jewboy-wonder.livejournal.com]

"Yes, except when you're ninety you'll be using weirder insults. Like... 'whippersnapper' or something." Even though Wilson was fairly sure that the elderly didn't use worse like 'whippersnapper' anymore. Or if they even had in the first place. Who the hell came up with that word anyway? It didn't even sound real. "Beating small children with your cane and all that. The parents will love you. Not that they don't already, of course."

Oh, this was getting a bit easier. More comfortable, even, and there was about a square mile's worth of room more in this class, out of nowhere. It wasn't so tense and... lots of 'so', 'so?', 'so...' or something equally articulate.

And, better yet, no more cheese metaphors.

However, there was House's hand, curling around his sweater top, tugging him in close and, "Holy sh--", he went to say, and gave up on the word completely, letting his gaze jump up to meet House's. This close, he could make out every inch of that sharp blue, those damned analytical eyes that he'd never really noticed until now, when they baring down at him, almost predatory. "I... I might," he admitted in a low voice, just automatically submitting to the tug and resisting the strange urge to pull the guy back in.