This idea randomly came to me during the house/wilson/guitar scene of Alone. I don't think the guitar was ever given a name but I name her in this story either way.
Early morning sun light fell across his face waking him from dreams of newspaper clippings and guitar strings. Thinking back over his week he smiled to himself about his stubborn lover. Turning to the bed side clock he signed at the time wishing to be sleeping in on a Saturday morning. Reaching out an arm he felt for the warm body on his right. Instead of finding his lover his hand contacted cooling sheets and an indention where his body once laid. Sitting up he noticed for the first time the hunting music coming from the living room.
He wasn't one to lay about when his lover was up before ten, it usually meant alone time together before the day actually started. Getting out of bed he made his way to the living room following the music. Upon entering the first thing he notice was his lover swaying his own music, eyes closed and half smile on his lips. All he wanted to do at that moment was kiss him. Although, years of experience had taught him that it wouldn't be a good idea to do so until after his lover finished playing.
With that thought in mind he settled down on the sofa to enjoy the early morning performance. He knew he was welcomed to watch and that his lover was only doing this for his benefit; knowing what it did to him when he watched his lover stroke his beloved guitar. He started to daydream about those same fingers stroke a part of him, or really any part of him.
Just when he was about to dive into his fantasies of being a human instrument and all the different ways he could be played, the music stopped and he turned to see his lover was smirking at him.
"Admiring Lola again I see."
House knew that he hated that the guitar was female and on some level was jealous of her.
"Why you insist that thing is a female I shall never know and Lola? What kind of name is that? Sounds like a bad porn star or better yeah prostitute name. Than again you would know all about the girls with those names."
He didn't mean to get so defensive or harsh but for some reason just knowing House was holding what he thought of as a woman angered him. He knew it was irrational and House would never leave him for another person, much less a woman, but try telling his heart that.
"You are really jealous of her aren't you?"
Though it may have been worded as a question it wasn't really one and Wilson choice not to answer it.
"You are jealous of Lola, a female I might add. Or is that the whole problem?" A quick glance in his direction confirmed the truth of that last statement. House sighed and with a look of more care than anyone other than Wilson would have thought impossible for him he fondly told him, "You are a complete idiot sometimes. Lola is … well Lola because you are the only man I want to hold."
That short statement made his jaw drop open and it took him a good minute or so to compose himself. It wasn't everyday House professed his feelings in any way.
"Now don't go getting any ideas of me actually liking you are anything. It is just that holding a guitar at night isn't as much fun as playing one during the day. So what do you say we pretend it is night and I hold you while you ride me?"
That last bit was said with a wicked leer on his face and as cheesy and vulgar it was, Wilson couldn't help but be turned on. Getting up he took the once hated guitar and put Her in the holder. Walking out with his love he couldn't help but throw back a wicked smile of his own to the guitar with the message of "he is mine, bitch".