Disclaimer: Do you see House and Wilson going at it all day long in some random hospital bed? No? Then it must not be mine...
Author's note: I'm not sure it's my place to write here, I don't really see myself as an author...but anyway, so this is my first fic on this site! It's definitely House/Wilson slash so if you're some kind of homophobic freak, don't read it. I don't really know how many chapters it's going to be...we'll see as we go.And by the way...reviews are extremely appreciated, I'd really like to know if it's total crap or if it's bearable.
P.S. If I made lost of English mistakes, please pardon me! I'm French so even though my English is not so bad, I'm not perfectly billingual. So if you find mistakes, tell me and I'll be delighted to correct them.
When the light went out, House looked up from his magazine. Everything was completely still around him. He looked at his watch. One minute after midnight. He might as well go back home and watch old episodes of The OC. House gathered his things and put his jacket on. He limped quickly through the empty corridors only lit by the red EXIT sign at the end pf the corridor. Normally he would've enjoyed the quiet but now it was a bit unnerving.
He passed before the closed Clinic. House had never thought he'd miss the whiny little brats and their over-worried mothers. He walked as fast as he could with his cane to the front door. He pushed it open.
Or at least he tried. Nothing. He pushed again, as hard as he could. The door wouldn't bulge. He tried pulling at it but it wouldn't open. The damn building had been locked for the night and he was stuck in it until 8 o'clock in the morning. He leaned his forehead against the cool surface of the window-pane and squint at it. He could see the parking lot outside, deserted except for his corvette. And another car. Wilson's car. The man must've stayed late, fretting over some dying little cancer kid, and lost track of time.
"It's locked. As all the other exits."
House jumped at the sound of a voice behind him and whirled around to face its owner.
Wilson smirked a little when he saw House's reaction. "Oh sorry. I didn't mean to scare you."
House glared at his friend and walked past him, not responding to Wilson's taunts. He heard the oncologist catching up with him and they walked side by side in the dark corridor, their arms brushing against each other from time to time.
"Where are we going?" Wilson asked after a lengthy pause.
"Want to check the emergency exits," House answered briskly.
"I already did. They're all locked for the night," the oncologist answered calmly.
"How about the phone? Let's just call Cuddy or the police and they can let us out…"
Wilson interrupted his hopeful musings. "I already verified everything, House. Electricity is out for all of the building and the phone's line's been cut. We're stuck for the night," he finished, talking as if he was explaining to a little child why he couldn't have another candy before dinner.
House came to an abrupt stop. He reached for his Vicodin in his pocket and dry-swallowed a couple of pills. He put the bottle back in his pocket and started walking again. Wilson, who had witnessed the whole scene silently, sighed and went after him.
"So…what's the plan? We're actually living a lot of people's dream! Stuck in a huge building for a night, all this space for us, we can do anything we've ever wanted!" Wilson said excitedly.
House stopped and turned suddenly towards the other man. "What, are you 10 years-old? Well, you can run down the hallways and jump on the beds all you want, I'm going to get pissed in my office and watch Internet porn." And House left without another word, leaving an amused Wilson behind.
"House…computers don't work!" he reminded to the retreating back of his friend.
"Dammit," Wilson heard him say before he turned the corner and disappeared out of sight.