Stuck On You The House Fan Fiction Archive Home Quicksearch Search Engine Random Story Upload Story   Stuck On You by Taima Hiroshima James Wilson perhaps liked Sunday mornings best of all. Mornings where he didn't have to drag himself out of bed to try and be Wonderboy Oncologist, and mornings where Chase didn't have to go in and be Super Wombat. Sunday mornings they woke from a sleep brought on by a late Saturday night spend together. Chase inevitably had mussed hair, and James always woke before the former priest in training. It was amazing to watch him sleep, James thought. He lay on his side, elbow on the pillow, and head in his hand. Chase slept curled on his side facing James. His lips were slightly parted, and he twitched ever so often in his sleep. On hand was in a fist by his face. James bent forward and kissed those knuckles. Chase stirred and opened his pretty eyes. "I didn't mean to wake you." He whispered. He knew it was silly to whisper, Robert was up now. Chase groaned and sat up. He rolled his neck, producing a satisfying cracking sound. He yawned and stretched him arms. "'S fine," he said just as softly. James took Robert's chin in his hand and gently turned his face. Chase looked at him, about to ask what he needed, when a good morning kiss was all the answer he needed. James released Robert's lips, and rested his forehead against his lovers for a moment. "I've got morning breath, love." Robert said not quite reproachfully. James chuckled. "After all that we've done you think a little morning breath is going to bother me?" "Point taken." Robert propped up his pillows and sat against them. "So, what're we having for breakfast?" That was Robert for you. Snapped awake and ready to go. James wrapped a sheet around his hips and padded barefoot to the kitchen while Robert picked up a magazine and began to thumb through it. Sunday morning breakfasts weren't the large affair they were in most homes. Sunday morning for them yielded a bowl of fresh fruit and yogurt. James returned with a tray satisfactorily laden with watermelon and strawberry yogurt, and a daffodil from the vase in the kitchen. Chase looked from the flower to Wilson. That one look said more than words ever could. Wilson was the only one that Chase had told daffodils were his favorite flower. Wilson remembered that night. They were sitting on the bed, and outside the storm of the century was raging. Every few seconds a bolt of lightning illuminated the room. The raindrops pelted at the windows, dying to be let in. "Mum always kept a bed of them outside of the house." Here his voice hitched and he'd had to swallow. "Even when things got, got really bad...She always made sure her flowers were taken care of." Wilson always made sure there was a fresh bunch of them somewhere in the home. On the anniversary of his mother's death, James had a dozen sent to Chase at the office. He happened to be walking by when they were delivered. He alone understood the light in his lover's eyes just then. He alone knew the nostalgia he was feeling when he bent his head to inhale their fragrance. Chase had happened to look just in time to see the older man standing there. 'Thank you' he mouthed when House's back was turned. Wilson sat down on a bed and each opened his weekend reading material. Chase preferred to catch up on People magazine while James delved into the slightly more complex Oliver Twist. Chase began to eat his dish of yogurt while James began on his portion of watermelon. Each read in the peaceful silence. Once they had finished what they were eating, they began on the opposite. It was so every Sunday. When Chase began on his melon, James had to put down his book and watch. It was fascinating to watch him eat the stuff, he insisted on pulling out every little seed before he'd eat it. They finished lounging at about twelve thirty. Wilson was starting to feel like he really needed a shower. Chase began to collect the dirty things to put back on the tray and carry away. Wilson suddenly remembered something from his childhood. "Wait!" he grabbed Chase's wrist. "What is it, James?" "Your watermelon seeds." "What about them?" Chase sighed as he sank back down onto the bed. "My sister used to do this thing all the time when we were young. You take three seeds and give them each the name of a boy. You spit on them and stick them to your forehead. The one that stays on the longest is the boy you're going to marry." James explained as he picked out seeds. "Uh-huuuuh," the Australian drawled, letting his skepticism be known. Still, he accepted the black things in his palm. "Now, what shall I name them? Hmm," he grinned at James. "Don't look at me! It's your future we're telling." Wilson laughed. "Well, this one shall be Johnny Depp. This one shall be Gregory House, and this one shall be James Wilson." Chase decided, pointing to them each in turn. He dutifully spat on them and stuck them to his forehead. Johnny Depp seemed to have a commitment phobia, as he plopped right off. "There goes my dream of being a Hollywood husband." Chase looked mournfully at the speck against the white sheets. Greg and James had a bit of a battle, each sliding just a little bit. Finally, Greg gave up and went to go and sulk with Johnny. "Well, looks like I'm stuck on you." James smiled. Chase laughed and gave the brown haired man a kissed before going into the kitchen and doing the dishes.   Please post a comment on this story. Legal Disclaimer: The authors published here make no claims on the ownership of Dr. Gregory House and the other fictional residents of Princeton-Plainsboro Teaching Hospital. Like the television show House (and quite possibly Dr. Wilson's pocket protector), they are the property of Fox Television, David Shore and undoubtedly other individuals of whom I am only peripherally aware. The fan fiction authors published here receive no monetary benefit from their work and intend no copyright infringement nor slight to the actual owners. We love the characters and we love the show, otherwise we wouldn't be here.