Title: The Sweetness of Insanity

Author: omfg_yaoi_squee

Prompt: Wilson runs out of sugar while baking

Pairing: House/Wilson established

Word Count: 337

Rating/Warning: PG

Summary: Next time, Wilson should just call.

Beta: none

Disclaimer: Not mine.

A/N: Written for house_of_fanfic on livejournal

The exterior of a home can't betray any turmoil within. This was the thought that struck House as he walked into his and Wilson's seemingly calm apartment. As soon as he was through the doorway, a deluge of scents assaulted House's nose. House smiled; Wilson was cooking. As House pulled off his jacket, he planned on entering the kitchen and sneaking up behind the oncologist while he was stirring soup or frying rice, or whatever that amazing smell permeating the apartment was. But when House entered the kitchen, he found Wilson rushing around like a chicken without a head. A pot of soup sat simmering on the stovetop, alight in the oven revealed a chicken baking, the microwave beeped every few minutes to alert them that its contents were done, and a metal bowl sat on the counter. House peered into the bowl then, grinning, reached out to try to sample the batter within.

"Greg, no!"

Wilson was suddenly by his side. The oncologist was frazzled, his pupils were dilated, and his hair stuck up at odd angles.

"There's no sugar. I ran out of sugar! But I can't go out and get any because I have to watch the chicken!"

Before Wilson could rush off again, House grabbed his arm.

"James. James! Wilson!"

Wilson stopped his frantic muttering and looked up at House. House had to force the laughter out of his voice.

"Calm down, I'll go out and get some,"

"Are you sure, Greg? I don't want--,"

House placed a finger on Wilson's lips.

"Hush, James,"

Wilson nodded. House smiled and replaced his finger with his lips, kissing his lover softly.

"I'll go get sugar," House told the now-calm Wilson, "You go shut up that infernal microwave and fix yourself up."

House smiled and placed another kiss to Wilson's lips. House went to put his coat back on.

"Oh, and James," House called back. Wilsons tuck his head out from the kitchen.

"Yes, Greg?"

"Next time, just call me and I'll pick some up,"