Hey, everyone! I just found this on my hard drive, and I think I posted it on my LJ like 3 years ago, but I never cross-posted here. So...crack!dialogue!only fic ahead! This totally came out of a conversation on LJ. I would link it, but FF is a bum about links, so...yeah. Hope you enjoy!
[House and Wilson climb out of the Volvo, stretch in the sun, then stand on the sidewalk for a second]
WILSON: Hey, what's that over there? The Fanfiction Supply Store?
HOUSE: Who cares? I'm hungry. Mickey's Diner is right there.
WILSON: It's new, see? "Grand Opening."
HOUSE: Oh, it has a banner. Well, now we have to go in.
WILSON: Shut up, House. I want to see what it is. [already walking away]
HOUSE: Wilson... God, could you be any more predictable? Do you even know what fanfiction is? It's a bunch of sad little obsessive day trippers who get their jollies online feeding each other's obsessions about boring TV shows. Then they write dumb little stories where the characters get in touch with their damn feelings and cry all over people's shoulders and have totally improbable split-second revelations about the meanings of their pathetic little ordinary lives and how much they want to bend their best, same-sex friend over an exam table and do naughty things to him until he screams for release.
WILSON: [stops walking]
HOUSE: Um.
WILSON: Are you trying to tell me something, House?
HOUSE: Hell, no. Keep walking.
WILSON: Hm. I still wanna go in. If it's a store for amateur writers, I bet they carry tons of cool pens in stock.
HOUSE: Yeah, Wilson. Pens.
WILSON: What? I happen to appreciate a quality writing implement. Do you have any idea how hard it is to get ink stains out of a lab coat? It's next to impossible to find a good pen that doesn't leak. Quit whining and come on.
House: [grumbles] You're a pathetic nerd.
WILSON: And you're an annoying jerk. Would it kill you to go inside for five minutes? I suffered at Game Stop with you for over an hour. You owe me.
HOUSE: [grumbles some more, then is up to something] Okay.
WILSON: ... Okay? That's it?
HOUSE: Yup.
WILSON: Seriously?
HOUSE: Yeah, let's go. We can check out some pens.
WILSON: ...
HOUSE: Oh, wait - I'm missing a vowel. Eh.
WILSON: ...
HOUSE: You wanna go in or what?
WILSON: I hate it when you get all cheery like that.
HOUSE: Quit complaining, nerd boy.
[go into Fanfic Supply Store]
HOUSE and WILSON: O_O
WILSON: What the hell is this place?
HOUSE: I told you. Hey, look - there's a warning sign and everything. They must have gotten sued at some point for selling dangerous writers' aids to some idiot who didn't know how to use them properly.
WILSON: [reads sign] "WARNING: MANY OF OUR PRODUCTS ARE DANGEROUS IF NOT USED PROPERLY, AND CAN CAUSE PERMANENT MENTAL SCARRING, FACEPALM, AND HEADDESK IF NOT USED BY TRAINED PROFESSIONALS."
HOUSE: [has already wandered off] What do you suppose a squee adapter's for?
WILSON: House, put that down! I think we should leave.
HOUSE: No way. This place is interesting. [picks up sex shuriken] This thing looks wicked awesome!
[SEX SEX SEX!]
HOUSE: [dazed] What the fuck?
WILSON: Uh...
HOUSE: [looks at sex shuriken again]
[SEX SEX SEX!]
HOUSE: [wobbles on feet] Okay, that's going back on the shelf. [pause] Hey, Wilson... Are these your boxers?
WILSON: ...
HOUSE: ...
WILSON: If those are mine, then whose underwear am I wearing right now?
HOUSE: ...
WILSON: House!
HOUSE: What?
WILSON: [facepalm] Quit touching things.
HOUSE:[pokes Wilson] Come on, Don Juan. Let's keep looking.
WILSON: But I thought you were hungry...what are you doing - put it back! You can't just open the merchandise!
HOUSE: Relax, Wilson. Nobody will know.
WILSON: What if the shop owner comes back?
HOUSE: She won't. Fanfic authors don't live in the real world - it's against the laws of physics for her to walk in on us. Look, Dark!Sauce. Do you think fanfiction writers have their own barbecue recipe or something?
WILSON: Put it back! [snatches open packet of dark sauce, gets some on self accidentally] House...uh...I don't feel so good.
HOUSE: What, you're gonna be sick? I told you not to drink that supra-saccharine frap thing at Starbucks.
WILSON: ...
HOUSE: Why are you glaring at me?
WILSON: ...
HOUSE: Wilson?
WILSON: ...
HOUSE: Okay, hey, Wilson, just calm down for a sec, okay? I'm gonna get you a sani-wipe or something.
WILSON: Why, House? Do you think a tissue is going to fix everything that you did at the end of season four?
HOUSE: ...
WILSON: Am I making you nervous? Good. Because you know what? This has gone far enough. The lying, and the stealing from me, and the drugs and alcohol, and the practical jokes, and the stalking - it's going to end right now. [picks up BDSM assault rifle]
HOUSE: Hey, we can talk about this.
WILSON: It's too late for talking, House. You've gone too far this time.
HOUSE: But I didn't do anything for once! What the hell is wrong with you? [grabs fluff bazooka from shelf] Back off, Wilson. I mean it.
WILSON: Oh, you mean it, do you?
HOUSE: [fires fluff bazooka]
WILSON: ...
HOUSE: Huh. I think this thing's broken.
WILSON: Oh, god. What...?
HOUSE: Are you you again?
WILSON: [tears up] House, I couldn't stop. I wanted to...to...
HOUSE: Shit. There must have been some angst residue in here from the last user.
WILSON: Oh god, House, I'm so sorry! I don't know what came over me, I just...I...
HOUSE: Hey, no hard feelings, 'kay? You got that dark!shit on you. It's cool.
WILSON: [cries]
HOUSE: ...
WILSON: Hold me.
HOUSE: What? No! What the fuck?
WILSON: [cries harder]
HOUSE: Oh, for god's sake. C'mere. And don't get any of the fluff crap on me. [hugs Wilson]
WILSON: [clings]
HOUSE: [squirms]
WILSON: [cries more]
HOUSE: Oh, god - I think it oozed on me.
WILSON: You're my best friend, House.
HOUSE: Make it stop!
WILSON: You always care so much, even if you try to hide it behind that gruff and yet ruggedly handsome exterior of yours.
HOUSE: [squirms, frantic] Wilson, I've never had a friend like you before. You mean so much to me, and your eyebrows are so cute and bushy. I could lose myself in them!
WILSON: I'm so sorry I abandoned you when Amber died, and I'm sorry I said all those awful things to you, and I never should have lied about Addison's guy, and I never should have left you on the floor in a puddle of vomit on Christmas Eve, and I'll never forgive myself for daring you to detox for a week, and - and -
HOUSE: Wilson, you're all I have! I know I take you for granted and steal your food and stalk you and scare off anybody even remotely interested in you, but it's only because my stunted emotional development leaves me incapable of telling you that I only do that crap because I'm so madly, desperately in love with you!
WILSON: Oh, House - I've wanted you from the first moment I saw you from that jail cell in New Orleans. I had fantasies of bending over for the soap for months, but I was too afraid to ever tell you because I define myself by society's unreasonably high expectations of me and I just couldn't bring myself to admit that I'm fabulously gay for you!
HOUSE: Oh, Wilson, do you think you could ever find it in your heart to love a bitter, jaded old cripple like me - to pull me out of my dark, dreary pit of self-imposed misery and make me a new, better man by showing me the true meaning of love?
WILSON: God, yes!
HOUSE: I love you, Wilson.
WILSON: I love you too, House.
[cling to each other and cry and have a totally improbable moment of deep emotional connection.]
HOUSE: I feel light-headed.
WILSON: Damn, you're heavy. Stand up straight.
HOUSE: Can't...fluff is...god, it's sapping the life out of me. I think I'm allergic.
WILSON: [grabs first product that comes to hand, does not read the label that says "sex grenade." Lobs it at House]
[KABLAM!]
[wild sex ensues]
WILSON: [on floor, panting] Oh, god.
HOUSE: Mmmmmmmm
WILSON: That was incredible.
HOUSE: [snoring]
WILSON: [peers speculatively at sleeping, post-coital House, casts sidelong glance at sex grenade display]
[KABLOOEY!]
[more wild sex ensues]
HOUSE: Ohhhhh...fuck, Wilson.
WILSON: I must still have some of that dark!sauce on me. I don't feel even a little bit bad for dropping two sex grenades on you without your consent.
HOUSE: [snoring]
WILSON: [pockets some sex grenades for later use] Hey, wake up before somebody walks in and finds us naked on the floor.
HOUSE: Huh?
WILSON: Put your clothes back on!
HOUSE: [gazes at naked self, still dazed from wild sex] M'kay, fine.
WILSON: Hey...WMDS? What do you think that stands for?
HOUSE: You're not serious. Haven't you fucked with me enough for one day? Let's just go before you get us covered in squee powder or dialogue-only crack!fic wraps. I'm hungry, Wilson!
WILSON: It says you can suck on it, so it must be edible. Here, tide yourself over. [opens WMDS package, hands contents to House]
HOUSE: ...
WILSON: Hey, look. A D/s uzi. These fanfic people are kinky, aren't they. Wonder what they do with these? [accidentally shoots self in foot] Ow! Son of a bitch. [blinks, then eyes House]
HOUSE: [eyes Wilson's crotch]
WILSON: Suck me off, bitch.
HOUSE: [indulges oral fixation]
WILSON: Yeah, like that.
HOUSE: [slurping happily away]
WILSON: Yeah...god, yeah - take it, you little slut.
HOUSE: [humming "Every Sperm Is Sacred"]
WILSON: [is incoherent]
HOUSE: [swallows]
WILSON: [gasps and staggers into display of Sex Shuriken]
DISPLAY OF SEX SHURIKEN: [falls over]
[SEX SEX SEX!]
[SEX SEX SEX!]
[SEX SEX SEX!]
[SEX SEX SEX!]
[SEX SEX SEX!]
[SEX SEX SEX!]
WILSON: Oh god!
HOUSE: Nnngh!
[SEX SEX SEX!]
WILSON: Harder!
HOUSE: Oh sweet fuck!
[SEX SEX SEX!]
[SEX SEX SEX!]
WILSON: [keening]
HOUSE: Oh! Ah! [gasp!] Jesus!
[SEX SEX SEX!]
~four hours later~
[The boys stumble out of the shop]
HOUSE: Your hair's messed up.
WILSON: Your shirt's on backwards.
[SEX SEX SEX!]
HOUSE and WILSON: [stagger]
LITTLE OLD LADY ON BENCH WITH YORKI TERRIER: [gapes]
HOUSE: Gah! [plucks sex shuriken from Wilson's pant cuff] Missed one.
WILSON: Oops. Thanks.
HOUSE: I think I'm permanently mentally scarred.
WILSON: [smiles to self, pats pocket containing pilfered sex grenades] Everything will be okay, House.
HOUSE: [eyes Wilson] You need a shower to get the rest of that dark!sauce shit off of you.
WILSON: [gives House beguiling look]
HOUSE: Creep. I'm never going shopping with you again. [makes sure the cannon with cuddle adaptor is still safely hidden in coat pocket]
WILSON: Wuss.
HOUSE: By the way: now that I've put out, you're buying me dinner.
WILSON: [glares] You're a pain in the ass.
HOUSE: How apropos. I was just thinking the same thing.