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performative nonnormative: the house variations (5-?)
title: Performative Nonnormative: The House Variations (5-?)
author:![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
phinnia
rating: r for themes
disclaimer: i own nothing except the strangely performing braincells that came up with this crazy thing.
author's note: i am so, so, so sorry that this took so LONG. my life kind of fell apart rather badly and I'm just now getting it back together for the most part. so sorry. for those new to the program, updates 1-4 are here. you should read those first.
"Where did you get it?" Wilson backed away, his eyes locked on the book as though it was going to leap off the bed and bite him.
"Ebay."
"You bought a sex changing book on ebay?"
"Well, it's not like it said that in the auction." House replied irritably, scowling. "I wouldn't have bought it if it had actually said 'this book's going to literally turn your balls inside out, so you might wanna read with rubber gloves on'. It was supposedly an ancient Greek medical text."
"Rubber gloves?"
"Ran into the mailman this morning. He's still a male man, if you get my meaning; clearly the problem is either on or in the book."
"Fair enough."
House started fidgeting, picking up the book again and flipping through it; Wilson took a few wary steps backwards. "It's probably something in the book, but I don't know what. I just started the translation last night before I fell asleep." Wilson could see some of House's margin notes scrawled in soft pencil, and a folded sheet of notebook paper peeked out between two early pages. "I can't find anything strange about the book itself, so it must be the subject matter ... "
"Maybe I should sleep here." Wilson blurted.
House looked up sharply.
"In case something else happens. I mean, you just started in on it last night and this happens ... what if ..." he spread his hands apart, shrugging. "You know, something else happens."
"On the couch." House grumbled, absorbed in the book again.
"Of course, of course. I'll just ... get us some food, okay?"
An absent-minded nod was House's only reply.
*
The evening was awkward and Wilson couldn't figure out why. It wasn't that different from sitting around at House's place normally: on the sofa, House's face set in determination while scouring a book, mindless television in the background, idle chat.
Except it wasn't the same.
He felt awkward. The room felt hot, oppressive; he didn't know where to put his hands, felt extra-conscious of his knees and elbows and the placement of his body. He found himself stealing glances at House - House had always looked striking, with his piercing blue eyes and inexplicable grace and that sharp, biting wit, but now ...
His train of thought was interrupted by a soft moan. Before he could even think he was on his feet again, halfway down the hall. "House? Are you okay, honey?"
"Fine!" Her voice was strained, tense. Wilson pushed the door open -
And was confronted with House, her curls sprawling every which way on the pillow and her eyes brilliant in the dark. The blankets were tangled; he could see the curve of one calf in the glow of the plugged-in nightlight and enough of a breast to suggest she was sleeping mostly, if not entirely, naked. One hand was gripping the pillow, and the other was hidden under the blanket -
... oh.
"Get the fuck out of here." she hissed, high spots of colour barely visible in the dim lighting.
"Going, going, sorry, so sorry." Wilson yanked the door shut and buried his face in his hands, glaring sharply through his fingers at his half-awake cock.
"And don't ever call me honey again." House shouted from beyond the door.
"Sorry, I won't, I'm sorry."
He crept back to bed, but it was a long while before he could sleep.
author:
phinniarating: r for themes
disclaimer: i own nothing except the strangely performing braincells that came up with this crazy thing.
author's note: i am so, so, so sorry that this took so LONG. my life kind of fell apart rather badly and I'm just now getting it back together for the most part. so sorry. for those new to the program, updates 1-4 are here. you should read those first.
"Where did you get it?" Wilson backed away, his eyes locked on the book as though it was going to leap off the bed and bite him.
"Ebay."
"You bought a sex changing book on ebay?"
"Well, it's not like it said that in the auction." House replied irritably, scowling. "I wouldn't have bought it if it had actually said 'this book's going to literally turn your balls inside out, so you might wanna read with rubber gloves on'. It was supposedly an ancient Greek medical text."
"Rubber gloves?"
"Ran into the mailman this morning. He's still a male man, if you get my meaning; clearly the problem is either on or in the book."
"Fair enough."
House started fidgeting, picking up the book again and flipping through it; Wilson took a few wary steps backwards. "It's probably something in the book, but I don't know what. I just started the translation last night before I fell asleep." Wilson could see some of House's margin notes scrawled in soft pencil, and a folded sheet of notebook paper peeked out between two early pages. "I can't find anything strange about the book itself, so it must be the subject matter ... "
"Maybe I should sleep here." Wilson blurted.
House looked up sharply.
"In case something else happens. I mean, you just started in on it last night and this happens ... what if ..." he spread his hands apart, shrugging. "You know, something else happens."
"On the couch." House grumbled, absorbed in the book again.
"Of course, of course. I'll just ... get us some food, okay?"
An absent-minded nod was House's only reply.
*
The evening was awkward and Wilson couldn't figure out why. It wasn't that different from sitting around at House's place normally: on the sofa, House's face set in determination while scouring a book, mindless television in the background, idle chat.
Except it wasn't the same.
He felt awkward. The room felt hot, oppressive; he didn't know where to put his hands, felt extra-conscious of his knees and elbows and the placement of his body. He found himself stealing glances at House - House had always looked striking, with his piercing blue eyes and inexplicable grace and that sharp, biting wit, but now ...
His train of thought was interrupted by a soft moan. Before he could even think he was on his feet again, halfway down the hall. "House? Are you okay, honey?"
"Fine!" Her voice was strained, tense. Wilson pushed the door open -
And was confronted with House, her curls sprawling every which way on the pillow and her eyes brilliant in the dark. The blankets were tangled; he could see the curve of one calf in the glow of the plugged-in nightlight and enough of a breast to suggest she was sleeping mostly, if not entirely, naked. One hand was gripping the pillow, and the other was hidden under the blanket -
... oh.
"Get the fuck out of here." she hissed, high spots of colour barely visible in the dim lighting.
"Going, going, sorry, so sorry." Wilson yanked the door shut and buried his face in his hands, glaring sharply through his fingers at his half-awake cock.
"And don't ever call me honey again." House shouted from beyond the door.
"Sorry, I won't, I'm sorry."
He crept back to bed, but it was a long while before he could sleep.