Back over to this universe with all my usual disclaimers. Don't own House, so don't sue, blah, blah, blah.
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Before long House was in the passenger seat of Johnny's Mustang, flying down the roads that led into Philadelphia. It had been longer than House cared to admit since he had been here, and he was looking forward to checking out the music scene with Johnny.
Once Johnny found a space in a nearby parking garage, the two men made their way toward the venue Johnny had been waxing rhapsodic for nearly the entire drive.
House nearly froze at the entrance when he saw who was playing. "You're going to try and get Mick Ronson to sign on your label?" He snarked to cover his surprise.
Johnny's eyes seemed to go a little wide at that before quickly recovering with a slight chuckle. "Hell no, man. He's playing upstairs. I'm here for what's happening downstairs."
House nodded, suspicious at Johnny's reaction, but followed him into the venue. The place was part restaurant, part club, and the music was floating from both upstairs and downstairs. He heard Johnny laugh behind him as a strong hand gripped his shoulder.
"I know exactly what you mean, brother." He commented casually. "Always feels a little like coming home when I come here, whether I'm playing or watching."
They paid for their tickets and made their way downstairs, the music growing louder as they approached, finding a table near the middle of the room. A waiter dropped a pair of menus on the table and took their drink orders before quickly disappearing again.
"So who's on stage?" House asked.
"Not sure." Johnny answered casually. "Looks like a local music night. Never know what we're going to get."
House cringed internally at the idea. Most of the time, there was a reason local music was, well, local music.
The waiter returned to take their food orders and deliver their drinks shortly before the stage lit up. A band was already set up, a woman taking front and center and adjusting the microphone.
House wasn't prepared for the sound that poured from the woman's throat. It sounded like Bonnie Raitt after a fifth of whiskey and a carton of Marlboros, soulful and powerful, and it sent a jolt down House's spine.
The band was nothing to sneeze at, either, easily matching the woman in power and talent. By the third song, House was sure they had a winner.
He snorted derisively. He wasn't a talent scout. He was a doctor, a doctor who'd happened to get caught up in the swirling vortex of Johnny's world. It was a world he wasn't in any hurry to escape anytime soon.
House glanced over at Johnny, who was watching the band with a curious expression, leaning on the table, supporting his chin on one hand. When the song ended, he leaned back in his chair, applauding and letting out a whistle in response.
House couldn't help but smirk. Clearly Johnny thought highly of them, too.
Suddenly the other man clapped him on the shoulder before leaning over to speak in his ear. "I'm gonna go track her down. Let me know what the next group sounds like."
House nodded, swiping Johnny's note pad and flipping it to an empty page. His curiosity started to get the better of him, and he found himself flipping back a few pages.
Most of them were notes regarding bands, but there were other notes in here, too. Notes on song arrangements and instrumentation filled several more pages.
House found himself absorbed in the notes. It was an insight into Johnny's special kind of brilliance, and House couldn't help but feel a bit more respect for the man and his craft.
"Find anything interesting?" Johnny's voice startled House, and he quickly flipped the note pad back to an empty page.
"Nope." House returned to his drink just as their food arrived. The two men fell into silence over their meals, listening to the next band that appeared on the stage.
They were enjoyable, but not particularly notable, House and Johnny agreed. The next band was similar, and House's mind started to entertain the idea of going upstairs to see if he could get into the Mick Ronson show.
"What do you say we head upstairs?" House leaned over so Johnny could hear him over the noise.
Johnny flashed him a smirk. "That a come-on, man?"
House rolled his eyes. "No, you moron. Figured I'd see if I could get in to see Mick Ronson."
Johnny's expression seemed to darken. "I'm good down here. Place is probably packed anyway."
House settled back into his seat with a frown, picking at the remains of his plate, noting that Johnny's plate remained largely untouched. He gestured toward his fries. "You going to eat those?"
"Have at it." Johnny pushed his plate toward House, his expression growing darker.
Something was up, but House wasn't sure what. Obviously there was some personal connection between Johnny and Mick Ronson. An old rivalry, perhaps? No, that didn't seem likely. This seemed deeper than that.
"What happened?" House couldn't resist poking further. "You hit on him and he turned you down?"
Johnny's eyes went wide before his expression hardened into a glare. "Fuck you, House."
He rose from the table and left, striding quickly through the room and disappearing. House silently cursed himself for his loose mouth, flagging down the waiter to pay for their dinner and rising to follow him.
This was stupid. Once again House had managed to fuck up a perfectly good thing, just because he couldn't keep his mouth shut. When would he learn to just leave well enough alone?
He limped into the bathroom to find Johnny leaning against the sink, staring down into the bowl as if it were the Great Oracle.
"No answers there." House threw out casually. "None in the toilet bowl, either. Trust me, I've tried."
Johnny's eyes flicked up, that hard expression still on his face. "If you've come to harass me some more, don't bother."
"Didn't come in to harass you." House answered, leaning against the wall and thumping his cane on the floor. The apology was right on the tip of his tongue, but refused to come out.
Johnny sighed heavily, closing his eyes and dropping his head. "Look, I came at you a little hard. Didn't mean to. It just kind of…came out."
House twisted his mouth and glanced at the floor. "Wouldn't have happened if I'd just left well enough alone." He let out a huff of irritation. "I…kind of have this bad habit of shooting off my mouth without thinking."
A slight smile flashed across Johnny's features. "Think I've got something to keep that mouth occupied."
House snorted and shook his head. "I'll bet you do."
Johnny pushed himself off the sink and closed the distance between himself and House, pressing a lingering kiss to his lips, trapping House between himself and the wall.
He pulled away just as House felt himself start to weaken, still pressing his body against House's. "You weren't too far off the mark." Johnny told him.
"Is that right?"
"Yep." Johnny nodded. "You could say…he taught me everything I know. And I do mean…everything."
House couldn't help the smirk that he knew was crossing his face. "All the more reason to go upstairs. Sounds like I should thank him."
Johnny snorted derisively. "Don't bother. The man's got an ego the size of Montana. He already figures he's God's gift to men." He followed with a brief shrug. "But…if you really want to go see him, we'll go."
"Are you sure?" House was baffled by Johnny's change in attitude.
"Yeah." The slight smile on Johnny's face grew. "But you owe me."
"I can live with that." House pushed Johnny away and headed out of the bathroom, pushing his way through the crowd and climbing the steps that led to the upstairs venue.
He could hear the music, a stripped down version of what he was familiar with, and child-like excitement coursed through his veins. "Are you sure you don't want to try and get him on your label?" He asked Johnny, who was following close behind.
"Hell, no." Johnny shook his head. "We won't get close enough to him anyway. The place is packed."
Sure enough, the room was standing room only by the time they arrived. The close quarters meant that Johnny was pressed almost impossibly close to House, and he could feel the other man's warm breath on the back of his neck.
He shivered slightly, trying to focus on the music, but finding it damn near impossible with Johnny pressed against him, his hand curving over his shoulder, a thumb rubbing lightly.
"You're still a son of a bitch." Johnny whispered in his ear.
House smirked, leaning ever so slightly against Johnny. If that was the worst Johnny could do, he could live with it.
# # #
Johnny continued to rub House's shoulder, enjoying the warmth of the other man's body against his while trying to push thoughts of Mick from his mind. He hadn't seen Mick in years. Hell, he hadn't even known the man was still touring until tonight. He'd been as surprised as House when he saw the name on the sign outside.
He still sounded as good as ever, his voice roughened by time and abuse in various chemical forms, but his skill on the guitar remained unparalleled. That alone seemed like reason enough to hang around, although Johnny half hoped to bail out as soon as the show was over.
The set ended, and the crowd moved around during the break. Somehow House and Johnny ended up somewhere near the middle of the room, although Johnny suspected House had managed to maneuver his way through to get a little closer. It would have been amusing if it had been for any other artist. Johnny wasn't sure how things would go if Mick actually managed to pick him out of the crowd.
When Mick and the band took the stage for their final set, Johnny could have sworn he saw a flash of recognition in the older man's eyes. He chided himself for the thought. With the light configuration, there was no way in hell that man could see anything beyond the stage.
Now who had the big ego? Clearly it was Johnny this time around.
"What the hell is your problem?" House's voice rang in his ear.
"No problem." Johnny answered.
"Then fucking relax." House snapped, settling in with his bourbon.
Johnny reached for the bottle of water that had magically appeared in front of him, taking a long drink, his throat suddenly dry.
Finally he managed to take House's snarky advice, taking in the music, enjoying the spare arrangements, a simple work up for guitar, bass, and drums.
The set ended with an old classic of Mick's, one that had been a classic back when Johnny had met the man nearly twenty years before.
"You've got to learn the classics, my dear boy." He had told Johnny at that initial meeting. "The new stuff's all well and good, but the crowd wants to hear things they recognize."
Johnny chuckled at the memory. Of course one of the first songs they had played together was one of Mick's. The man's ego knew nearly no bounds, even then. Especially then, perhaps.
He had aged well, no question. Mick Ronson was still an attractive man, gray now where he had once been blond, thinning even more on top than he had then. He'd gone for the short cut, as well. No surprise. Johnny was sure the man had cut off his long hair the minute his scalp had started to show through.
And that voice. Oh, that voice still held power. Power that had drawn Johnny in and never fully let go.
He shook off the memory and glanced over at House, who was drumming his fingers on the table, completely absorbed in the music.
Johnny always enjoyed this part of going to check out bands with House. The man was as passionate about his music as he was anything else, and Johnny could usually get a vibe about a band based on House's reaction. He'd learned that from the Pushing Daisies show, and House's instincts had proved correct on that one.
More importantly, Johnny admired the pure love House had for music in nearly any form. Over the course of the last couple of days with him, he had heard House play everything from blues to jazz to classical to rock on that baby grand of his. His musical knowledge was so broad that it blew Johnny away.
So why medicine and not music? Johnny had his suspicions on that one. Music was House's life, but not his livelihood. For that, he had his insane medical puzzles, ones that Johnny couldn't even begin to follow. Hell, Johnny hadn't even graduated high school himself. He couldn't begin to hope to keep up with House intellectually. Good thing they had music and incredible sex to bond them.
"Well, I'll be damned." A familiar lilting accent jolted Johnny out of his thoughts. "Johnny, my boy, what the hell are you doing here?"
"Mick…" Johnny was suddenly tongue tied. "It's…been a while."
"It certainly has." Mick plopped his body into a chair next to him, seeming to size up House. "And who's your friend?"
"This would be House." Johnny answered. "Met him at one of my last gigs in New York."
Mick immediately extended a hand, oozing charm that Johnny was sure House would scoff at. "A pleasure, House."
House silently extended his hand with a brief nod, his jaw working nervously. Johnny recognized the reaction. House had reacted similarly upon their first meeting.
Mick smiled and nodded, examining the hand House extended. "Do you play?"
House snorted then, his lips twitching in a tiny smile. "You must share a brain with this guy. That's the same line he tried on me."
"He does play." Johnny interjected as Mick arched an eyebrow at him. "Seriously. The man's good. Piano and guitar."
"You don't say." Mick suddenly turned his attention back to House. "Do you have a preference?"
House shrugged casually, though he seemed a little on edge to Johnny. "Depends."
Mick nodded thoughtfully. "You know, I think we might be setting up a jam back at the hotel." He winked at House. "Not that sort of jam, you know. The musical kind." Suddenly he turned to Johnny. "And it's been a lifetime since we've played together. What do you say? Old times sake and all that?"
House's eyes went a little wide at the invitation, glancing over at Johnny as if waiting for approval.
Johnny groaned a little internally. "Well…all my instruments are back…" He caught himself before he said 'home'. "…in New York. Wasn't really expecting to get any use out of them tonight."
"Now Johnny, my boy." Mick shook his head. "What have I always told you? A man's got to be ready for…anything."
Johnny could feel a tiny flame of resentment flare up inside him, but he quickly tamped it down. Mick soon continued. "No matter. You know I always carry extras. I'm sure I have something your friend will like."
Johnny finally nodded. "What the hell, why not? Not like I don't have some time to kill."
"Excellent." Mick smiled broadly, gesturing for Johnny's note pad and a pen, scribbling down an address before rising from his chair and placing a hand on Johnny's shoulder. "I'll expect the two of you shortly."
Johnny couldn't help the little shiver that went through him at Mick's touch. Goddamn the man, anyway.
"See?" House all but crowed. "Damn good thing I dragged you up here."
"Yeah." Johnny growled as he followed House out of the club. "Damn good thing."
Whether it actually was remained to be seen. Johnny decided to withhold judgment on that count.
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