Title: Wilson In The Morning: Love Handles

By: lbc

Pairing: House/Wilson

Rating: G

Genre: slash

Disclaimer: I sure wish I owned these characters.

Words: 886

Summary: Wilson is awakened early by House.

Note: This is intended as a 3 part arc – each part is short. Will be posted for the 3 days around Valentine's Day.

Feedback welcome.

6:00 am, February 13

The bed was warm; the room was dark, and the bleating blare WASN'T the alarm clock. James Wilson sat straight up in bed, instantly hostile to the loss of the warmth that resided there. Although his brown eyes were having trouble focusing, it was readily apparent that this wasn't his bed - - not because he recognized it as such, but because he recognized the bleating blare of . . . Gregory House, who was braying loudly at the ungodly hour of 6:00 am.

"Come on, Wilson. Wakey, wakey. You sure are a lazy guest. It's time to get up and take a walk."

Wilson's long hair in front was hanging over his forehead in disheveled chaos, but he looked totally adorable . . . and confused. Scrunching up his face, he asked, "Take a walk? Take a walk? What have you done with Greg House, the original primeval sloth?"

"You're always nagging me about not getting enough exercise, so like the good friend I am, I'm encouraging you to get out and walk. I'll even accompany you."

"What is this?"

"I've just been noticing . . . well, since you've been mooching off me again and staying here that you've got . . . quite a set of love handles on you."

"Love handles . . . me?"

"Well, yes or your skin is rippling from profligacy."

Wilson squinted looking carefully at his friend who seemed to be dressed and ready to venture out. "What's going on?"

"All right, all right. I didn't want to be the one to break this to you, but Allison Cameron mentioned the other day that you had these love handles . . . how she knew that I won't comment on, but I felt that it was my duty to help you get rid of them."

Fearful of a punch in the mouth, House sighed as he watched his friend get out of bed and head, not towards his vulnerable body, but to the bathroom. Within minutes, the two men were out walking down the sidewalk. Within a few more minutes, it was obvious that House was struggling and that his right leg was aching badly.

Finding a bench, the two men sat down. They had spoken very little during the short walk, but James Wilson had been thinking. "I get this now. Cameron didn't say anything about me having love handles, she said it about you, and you just got me up to accompany you like the sadist you are."

House lightly slapped his forehead. "Well, duh, you figured that out, did you? Besides, it was Cuddy who said you had the love handles. I don't listen to Cameron, so it must be my concern for your pudgy parts that's got us out here."

Wilson's eyebrow shot up. Shyly he asked, "Is that all it is? Aren't you really wanting to know how Cuddy would know if I had love handles?"

"Are you saying that I'm nosy about your love life?"

"Well, it sounded kind of like that, but I don't know how Cuddy knows unless it was that time in the men's locker room in the gym."

Realizing what he had just said, Wilson dropped his head to his chest, looking down at the sidewalk, refusing to look into House's blue eyes. Knowing House wouldn't let it rest, Wilson cringed when he heard the mocking words, "Jimmy, Jimmy, Jimmy, naughty, naughty . . . tell us more."

James Wilson knew Greg House very well. He could hear in those words, something much deeper than just mockery. Figuring that only bravado and truth would do, he smiled devilishly and replied, "You should talk, House. After all, it wasn't me that Cuddy followed into the men's toilet and saw you take a whiz! Talk about Doc on the run!"

"I told you that in strictest confidence, now you throw it in my face."

"Okay, okay. Here it is. I was being paged, but I was playing squash with Chase, and I didn't hear the page so Cuddy came down to look for me. She found me; I changed out of my outfit and raced upstairs to help a patient. WHILE I WAS CHANGING, she saw my manly chest and didn't mention any love handles, so there."

For a minute, House stared into Wilson's innocent eyes then asked seriously, "Are you telling me the truth, Romeo?"

"Definitely . . . let me ask about Cameron mentioning your love handles."

House pushed himself up with the help of his cane. Fortunately, they hadn't walked too far because his leg was stiffening on him. Looking down at the seated man, House replied, "That is a tale for another day, Jimmy. Besides, she was wrong, I do not have love handles; that's my lovableness bulging out all over."

As Greg House limped down the street towards his condo, he could hear the younger man's very loud and vocal snort of disbelief.

TBC