High Maintenance Men

Wilson awoke to a loud "bang!" noise…some one was trying to break down his door.

He groggily rolled himself out of bed and clumsily stumbled over his own feet as he made his way through the dark to the door to see who the hell was trying to bug him at this hour. If he opened the door and saw House, well, he wasn't sure what he was going to do, but it definitely wasn't going to be a "Hi, come on in buddy!"

As he rubbed the sleep out of his eyes he let out a sigh to see that it was not House at his door, but a very disgruntled Chase. He scanned him over and noticed he was wearing his pajamas. That normally wouldn't be a big deal, but he gave a what-the-fuck sort of look when he noticed little batman logos on his pajama pants and an old N'Sync t-shirt above that. He would have chuckled if he wasn't so tired, but instead he just stared at the man who looked 15 years younger than he really was standing outside his hotel room.

Chase shrugged a big duffel bag over his shoulder.

"My house has an…infestation, I had to leave pronto," he looked down at his outfit, "I didn't really have time to change."

Wilson decided not to make fun and stepped aside, ushering him into the room. He glanced at the clock, it was 4 AM, he might as well just stay up, the alarm went off at 5 anyway.

Chase dropped his bag to the floor, rummaging though it and picking out a few items.

"My place should be fine by Wednesday, I'm gunna take a shower if you don't mind."

Wilson merely nodded and plopped down on the bed deciding to just sit there till the younger man was done and he could jump in himself.

---

A surprisingly long 35 minutes later, an I used all the hot water 35 minutes later, Chase emerged. Wilson took a deep breath, noticing the smell of strawberries in the air.

"Chase, do you use strawberry bath gel??"

His question was never heard due to the fact that the standard issue blow dryer that comes attached to the wall of every hotel bathroom wall clicked on.

Wilson walked to the bathroom door, knocking loudly. When the door opened he pushed past Chase, crouched down, and opened the right hand cabinet, pulling out an expensive looking blow dryer and handed it to the man leering over him.

"Use this one, the hotel dryer sucks, plug it in by the nightstand so I can take a shower."

"…Thanks…" Chase shot him a quizzical look before leaving and plugging in outside the room.

"I used your shampoo, hope that's o.k."

Wilson heard it through the door only a second before he turned the water on.

"Yeah, that's fine." He called out while stepping into what was left of the hot water.

Wilson reached forward and picked up a pink bottle, twisted the cap off a smelt it. It smelt of Strawberries…Chase had used strawberry bath gel. That was funny.

He held it for a moment before grabbing his loofah and pouring some of the pink liquid onto it.

----

After 35 minutes, the last 15 of which were devoid of hot water, Wilson stepped out of the shower, loosely wrapping a standard issue white hotel towel around his waist, then glanced out the door to see Chase sitting hunched over on the bed, one leg slung over the other, garbage can at foot, and nail clippers in hand.

He shut the door, thinking about how oddly similar their morning routines were. He reached out to grab his mousse but noticed it had been replaced with a much more expensive looking bottle with a picture of a high fashion model doing the "hair flip" thing on the label. He briefly pictured Chase doing the same hair flip this girl was doing, but then snapped him self out of it and yelled out to where Chase was…clipping.

"Where's my mousse?"

"This stuff's better, use it instead"

Wilson studied the bottle for a few more moments, contemplating whether he should trust his hair to Chase. After almost doing a face palm when he realized how stupid that statement was, everybody knows Chase has great hair, he squirted out some mousse and rubbed it into his own. Not two seconds later Chase stood outside the door holding his blow dryer out to him.

"Thanks." Wilson took it and began to dry his hair.

---

Ten minutes later Chase was outside the door again holding a bottle of hair gel.

"Use this, it's great." He added to that by squeezing some into his own hand and rubbing it through his hair with a smile like you see those models do on TV.

Wilson snatched the bottle from Chase's hand and began to read the label on it out loud.

"…For thick hair, leaves it shiny and tames troublesome split ends, sure to give you that sexy edge for a night out with your girlfriends…."

He'd meant to mock Chase, and he must have done a good job because as soon as the word "girlfriends" came out of his mouth Chase had re-snatched it back.

"If you're going to be like that about it…"

Wilson sighed heavily before giving in and taking it back. He only hesitated slightly before rubbing it into his own hair. He stared into the mirror, admiring how the gel made his hair look, not noticing Chase smile and walk off to spray himself with designer cologne.

After a minute Wilson glanced out of the corner of his eye to make sure Chase wasn't looking and then softly shut the bathroom door. He opened the drawer above the cabinet he'd taken the blow dryer out of. He pulled out a bottle of clear "nail protecting" polish.

He wasn't "painting" his nails like women do…it was to make them healthy…it made his cuticles look…nice. He glanced paranoid at the door before twisting the cap off and beginning on his right hand. House was the only one who knew about….this…and he preferred to keep it that way. He would have just waited till Chase left, but it'd been two weeks since he'd done it last, and it was beginning to bug him.

---

Two minutes later and one hand to go, he painstakingly watched as the doorknob twisted and Chase's stupid head popped in.

"Sorry…I was just wondering…wait, what are you doing?"

He met Chase's confused face with a child-caught-with-his-hand-in-the-cookie-jar look.

"Are you painting your nails?!"

"What, no!"

"You are!" Chase smiled an I've got blackmail on you smile.

"It's just, um, well, give me your hand."

"No!" Chase stepped back to escape but the older man had been quicker, his hand was being held tightly by Wilson's.

"Wilson! Let go!"

"Shut up Chase!"

Chase, shocked by the sudden outburst, stood silent like a reprimanded child, and stared a Wilson, awaiting the worst.

The worst never came, but after a minute there was a "There, see?"

Chase stared down at his hand ready to yell, but instead an impressed "Where'd you get this," was blurted out.

"The spa place down the street…where'd you get that bath gel??"

"…The spa place down the street."

End.

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