Hello out there! I'm completely new to the wide world of House fanfiction, so allow me to introduce myself. I usually go by JD, I thrive on reviews, and I proudly ship slash. So here's the deal. This is the first of 26 one-shots that I have decided to link into one enormous story. Each chapter is centered around an object or idea that starts with a different letter of the alphabet. And I'm going in keyboard order: Q,W,E,R,T,Y, and so on. So bear with me, read, review, alert... whatever. I just want these ideas to leave me alone.

Smiling mischievously, Dr. Gregory House reached over to set his near-empty beer bottle on the coffee table. He yanked the charcoal grey blanket off his abdomen and removed his legs from Wilson's lap, swinging them over the side of the couch so his toes greeted the hardwood floor.

"Where are you going?" James inquired, bushy brown eyebrows slightly raised.

House remained silent and gently eased himself off the couch, crawling closer to his companion. With slight difficulty, he positioned himself on one knee and clasped his hands on Wilson's thigh. House looked up with bulbous cerulean eyes and grinned.

Eyes widening, James mirrored the smile and leaned forward. "House, I-"

Greg just held his index finger to his companion's lips to shush him. He moved his hand up to push a few lingering locks of chestnut hair from Wilson's forehead. "Shush. It's my turn."

Nodding obediently, James sealed his lips and tried his best to hold back the tears filling his gentle chocolate eyes.

"Listen, I've been feeling differently lately," House purred, his voice dripping with pseudo-sincerity. "Like there's an empty spot inside of me, like I'm never satisfied. And only you have the ability to fill that space."

Wilson grasped the older doctor's weathered hands in his own and pursed his lips as a single glittering tear slid down his cheek. "Yeah," he whispered, for lack of something more profound to say.

House responded, squeezing Wilson's fingers, and he continued. "Anyway, I guess what I'm trying to say…" He looked down at the floor before pulling his hands away, reaching down as if to extract something from his pocket.

In the eyes of James, the scene slipped by in slow motion. He watched in adoration as Greg's eyes crept back up to meet his own. He reached out to run a thumb over the older man's cheekbone and savored the feeling of brittle stubble against his fingertips. And he listened intently as House cleared his throat before opening his mouth.

"I'm starving. What's for dinner?"

As the warm, fuzzy feeling in Wilson's stomach rapidly evaporated, he felt his muscles clench. His fingernails bit viciously into the palm of his left hand as he swung a fist toward House's face.

Luckily, the older doctor was prepared for this. He had already ducked his head, and Wilson's arm flew harmlessly through the air. House peeked up cautiously at the younger man. "I'm not really in the mood for a knuckle sandwich, thanks."

An uncharacteristic growl sounded in Wilson's gullet. Part of him wanted to strangle House with an electrical cord, tear his apartment apart, and then stomp dramatically out the door. But along with having to deal with the ramifications of second-degree murder, this plan would give him no long-term satisfaction.

A fearless House hoisted himself off the floor with the coffee table's assistance. He collapsed into the sofa cushions with a theatrical sigh. "So, seriously. What's cookin', good lookin'?" he jested.

James crossed his arms and leaned back, a convincing pout evident on his face.

"Ah, the silent treatment. Very mature." House snatched his cane from its resting place against the wall and started towards the kitchen. "I suppose we'll be feasting on roast beef sandwiches this evening." He glanced back over his shoulder with an eyebrow raised. "You want one, Mr. Pouty Panties?"

Wilson's eyes remained glued to the TV screen. His expression remained blank, but his mind was racing.

"Fine. Starve." House retorted. James wordlessly watched him disappear into the kitchen.

Praise, criticism, flames... I welcome any and all feedback. So go ahead, hit me with your best shot.