A/N: So, here's the short story of these drabbles.
Me and my BFF Tea realised some time ago that almost all of James Blunt's songs are about H/W. We actually called him The Hilson Bard. I started to write a fic based on the lyrics for Cry. But since I suck at long fics, the idea got abandoned. Then I started to work on a series of short drabbles, each with a title and a quote from various Blunt's songs. I had maybe ten written down when MS Works said "um, no" and deleted them all. I got super-pissed and stopped writing.
Today I heard 1973 on the radio and just had to do something. Here's the result.
#1 So Long, Jimmy
Does everyone have a different take?
Do you seem real but I seem fake?
Does everyone get hypnotized by your fire?
What Wilson couldn't comprehend was how House always managed to get what he wanted. Always being the operative word. And he didn't have to be a manipulative jerk to get it. Well, not in all the cases, but-- yeah. Wilson could understand Cuddy, Cameron-- hell, even Chase. But you need more than charm or resemblance to a deceased parent to get your way with Foreman, Thirteen, Taub, patients, their families, hospital staff or random people when usual approaches do not work. Wilson couldn't help but feel a bit jealous at the thought that there still was something about Gregory House that he hadn't come to be privy with.
#2 Alright Tonight
Do you want this one night stand?
Let's take a risk and go play in the sand.
You can leave that ring on your finger.
I'm a sinner, you're the winner, I am too.
It was a bad idea. Really, really bad idea. Bonnie can come back any minute now. Still, it doesn't seem to discourage Wilson from sliding his hands up higher under House's t-shirt.
"Wilson," he breathes. "What--"
"Stop thinking," Wilson murmurs right into his ear. He can almost smell the mix of vodka, whisky and beer in the other's breath. "She's at her friend's, staying for the night. The gal's husband cheated on her."
#3 You're Beautiful
I saw your face in a crowded place.
It was a boring convention, but that wasn't the only reason he decided to bail Wilson out. Nor was it that envelope. Okay, it was the envelope, but not exactly. It was that distant, hurt look on the other's face that caught his attention. It wasn't the usual 'God-I-hate-life-it-sucks' expression-- more than half of the peers wore their own version of it on their faces. It was a mix of resignation, despair and self-loathing. He felt like he was looking into the mirror that reflected his soul.
Once he was a lover sleeping with another.
Now he's just known as a cheat.
He couldn't believe that he did that again. He woke up around ten to find a naked girl curled next to him, her dark hair an irregular halo around her head. She was not a hooker and they were both sober. He actually had wanted to get roaring drunk the other day. But she had been there, sitting at the counter, sipping her drink. They talked for a while, then went to her place.
House was right when he said they could never be together. Wilson was too unstable for a real relationship he claimed to want to have with the older doctor. He proved it a few hours ago.
If only he hadn't been rejected that evening-- and the girl didn't have those blue eyes.
#5 Same Mistake
And maybe someday we will meet
And maybe talk and not just speak
He had been stupid enough to let himself be blinded by something that he claimed didn't exist. And yet he ignored it. There's no such thing as longterm happiness. It just happens randomly and lasts just for a while. Why then he hadn't seen that coming?
No, he already knew the answer. He saw-- wanted to see-- himself in the other. And if the other could be happy, he might be able to one day, too. What he hadn't considered was that it could work both ways-- that he could've been the other's future. If they were the same.
House didn't believe in afterlife. Still, if it really does exist, Kutner better meet him there one day so that he could finally find the answer.