Title: Not My Color
Author: Jahmat
Rating: PG, established relationship, minor swearing
Summary: Wilson's nature collage lands him in the clinic. Again! And, of course, House is more than willing to treat him.
Spoilers: None
Warnings: Rated T for Established relationship
Disclaimer: Don't own, just love 'em! Don't own the two bands either. This is just for fun. I make nothing. (Trust me, I'm a 5th grade teacher. I MAKE NOTHING! But I love teaching!)
Author's notes: Written for Camp Sick!Wilson's Crafty Campers Challenge. Family Force 5 and Xenolith are real bands. I dare you to listen to the latter!
Pink had never been his favorite color. He had worn lavender and yellow, even a white-check print (one of his favorites), but never pink. Right now he would give everything he owned to have pink covering his whole body, or at least his chest, back, arms, and hands.
"Hurry up, House! It's driving me crazy!" Wilson begged, squirming on the Camp clinic's exam table. His shirt was off, his upper body covered in angry, red blotches. He clutched at the sides of the table, trying to keep his hands off his burning flesh.
House was throwing open doors and jerking out drawers, pushing aside medical supplies, most of which landed on the counter or floor. The area was rapidly becoming a hazard zone.
"House! Come on!" Wilson moaned.
"I'm trying!" House growled back.
He opened the next door. "Got it!" he shouted, brandishing a bottle of pink liquid.
He grabbed a box of gauze from the counter and hurried over to Wilson.
After tearing open the gauze box, he grabbed two packets and tore them open. He lay the gauze on Wilson's crimson chest and then tried to open the bottle.
"It's stuck," he said.
"Oh, for the love of...Give me that!" Wilson ordered.
He reached for the bottle and House slapped at his hands. "I'll get it," he said.
He struggled for a few more seconds until the top finally came off. "Success!" he exclaimed.
"About time," Wilson whined.
"Oh, don't be such a drama queen or I'll change your ring tone."
He started singing as he dabbed the lotion onto Wilson's bumps.
"She's a Drama Queen if you know what I mean
She'll get under your skin and make you scream
Owwww, Drama Queen."
"Cute, House," Wilson grumbled. "Since when do you listen to Christian crunk music? Family Force 5? My nephews listen to that...Oh, yeah, last Christmas at my parents. You and Jamie and Denny spent a lot of time together."
"I have eclectic tastes, Wilson," House replied. "And your nephews were crazy about that band. I'm surprised your brother hasn't called to complain about me introducing them to Xenolith."
"Xenolith?"
"I'm an equal opportunity atheist, Wilson," House grinned wickedly. "Xenolith is a death metal band from Israel. You should check 'em out some time. Loud, screaming, awesome songs."
He smiled down at Wilson as he continued applying the Calomine lotion. "Definitely not your kind of music. Flip," he ordered.
Wilson flipped over and House began working on his back.
When he was finished, he slapped Wilson on the shoulder; the unlucky oncologist turned back over and sat up, dangling his feet off the edge of the table.
House surveyed his handiwork and nodded. Wilson's arms, hands, and upper torso were a beautiful Calomine-lotion pink. "By the way, you never told me how you got this rash. Poison Ivy?" he guessed.
"Of course not," Wilson said indignantly. "I know what Poison Ivy looks like!"
Wilson sighed and pointed to the plants glued to the piece of bark on the counter near the door.
House walked over and picked the craft up. He stared at the flora for a minute, his Wikipedic mind running through plants that could cause burning rashes.
Wilson watched him, waiting for the 'ah ha' moment of epiphany. It didn't take long.
"Wilson, you idiot!" House shouted. "Don't you know giant hogweed when you see it? You're lucky you didn't get the sap in your eyes!"
"I...Giant hogweed? Never heard of it," Wilson confessed.
"Well, hopefully, you won't have any scars. But don't scratch it anymore," House ordered, closing the bottle and putting it back in the drawer. He replaced the box and threw away the wrappers and used gauze.
"Sorry, House," Wilson said. He hung his head, staring at his pink chest and arms.
"Wait, how'd you get it all over your back?" House wondered. "I can understand getting it on your arms and chest, but your back?"
Wilson looked up sheepishly and groaned. "You don't want to know."
"Wilson, how did you get it on your back?" House pressed, suspicions growing. "You didn't…with one of the campers."
"What? God, no! What do you take me for?" He took his partner's hand in his and kissed the callused palm.
House nodded and pulled Wilson to him, not caring if the pink got on his t-shirt. He gently kissed the top of Wilson's head, cuddling Wilson against his chest.
"It was 90 degrees in the shade," Wilson confessed softly, "and I was hot, so I took my shirt off. I saw those flowers and thought they would be great for my nature collage. I picked a couple of big stalks and slung them over my shoulder. I guess the sap got on my back and my chest, then my arms."
He sighed again. "I feel like such an idiot."
He shook his head against House's t-shirt. "Why do I always end up in the camp's clinic?" he grumbled.
"You're lucky you didn't use the little boy's room before you found me," House said.
"Uh..."
"Wilson, please tell me you didn't..."
Wilson's face quickly turned the same deep red as his rash had been. "Just before I came looking for you," he groaned.
"Okay," House breathed. "Drop 'em!"