Let me tell you a secret. - What Not To Do With A Sex Toy (3/10)

0.35 am - What Not To Do With A Sex Toy (3/10)

Title: What not to do with a sex toy (chapter 3 of 10)
Rating: Ehhh, I'm gonna say PG-13/soft R this part, but will eventually be R/NC-17
Pairing: House/ Wilson... Slash eventually
Word Count: 1138 (this part)
Warnings/Spoilers: Inappropriate use of an inappropriate toy, bit of angst, comedy, pranks, some fit-throwing, a bit of what you'd probably consider crack. No spoilers that I can think of.
A/N: This might be the weirdest thing I've ever written. It was inspired (if you can call it that) by something on Facebook.
Disclaimer: Technically, I don't even own this computer outright.

Chapter Three

House had gotten to the hospital early. Way before Wilson, anyway. Once he got there, he locked himself in his office, closed the blinds, and pondered what to do with the doll he’d found stuffed in the bottom of Wilson’s box.

It wasn’t just any doll, either. It was a blow-up doll. The kind that most people would typically use as a sex toy. Not only that, but it also happened to be a male blow-up doll that most people would typically use as a sex toy. It had a round, open mouth; a long, rather firm erect penis; and even an anal orifice. Apart from that, well, it wasn’t much to look at. Shiny, pinkish plastic; cartoonish features; and it was quite short as well, at about five feet even.

Figuring that this was way too good an opportunity to let go, House of course decided to pool all his resources. Anything to amuse himself and completely humiliate Wilson. So he’d inflated the doll with a bicycle pump, used Wilson’s labelmaker to stamp ‘Property of James Wilson’ across the back of the doll’s neck, and then dressed it up as himself, complete with a t-shirt, jeans, and a cane. The doll’s erection ensured that the jeans stayed up, though he’d had to roll up the legs quite a bit. For the cane, he’d gotten a lightweight aluminium deal from the hospital’s orthopaedic ward and fastened it around the doll’s right hand with a rubber tourniquet. As a final touch, he’d drawn on some curly hair with a brown Sharpie.

The first picture he’d taken was a fairly innocent one: Wilson with his arms around the doll’s shoulders– a bit of computer trickery involved, but nothing too complicated. That couldn’t get him into too much trouble, and from far enough away, the doll actually almost looked like a real person. ‘Far enough away’ meaning more than twenty feet. He’d then broken into Wilson’s office, framed the picture, and placed it on a shelf.

The next set of pictures he’d taken were a bit less innocent. Voyeuristic-looking shots of the doll standing at a urinal, its mitten-like plastic left hand wrapped securely around its penis (House awarded himself ten points for clever use of Scotch tape); one of it ‘sleeping’ on the couch in Wilson’s office, arm cradling a small stuffed toy; and another Photoshop, this time of Wilson ‘kissing’ the doll. These ones, he’d left in his own conference room for the ducklings to find when they came in. Oh, and he’d sent a group email of the last one to all the department heads (except for Wilson, of course), and to Cuddy.

He’d done all this early in the morning, before anyone of consequence had made it in to work. And by the time he’d sneaked off to the paediatrics ward and filled the doll with helium instead of air, the night shift were just leaving. He’d tied the doll down in the back of a janitor’s closet behind a shelf, and made his retreat to an empty patient room in the cardiology wing to catch a nap. After the third patient coded, though (or maybe it was the same patient coding three times), he’d gotten fed up with the noise and gone down to the cafeteria for a sandwich. He’d timed it so he could narrowly avoid Wilson by leaving just before Wilson’s regular lunch break. During said lunch break, House brought the doll out of hiding and tied it to the rail of the second floor balcony immediately above the hospital lobby.

About an hour after this, Wilson, finally on his way to the clinic, saw the doll in person and nearly had a heart attack. Wilson had been fuming all day– caught between rage and humiliation (which, he guessed, had probably been the point of all this). But now he was seething and ready to take his revenge. Screw the embarrassment factor– he was ready to tie House to the second floor balcony. By his neck. With razor wire.

Luckily for House, Cuddy ran interference and sent Wilson home for the next few days to cool off. But then, of course, she just had to issue House a reprimand, and by that point, House was just wishing he’d left Wilson’s stuff the hell alone.

‘What the hell could have possessed you to do that? Wilson’s ready to kill you,’ was Cuddy’s opener.

House fidgeted. ‘He was wound up too tight. Figured if I didn’t loosen him up soon, he might blow a gasket. You can’t tell me you wouldn’t do that for a friend.’ He gave her his most innocent smile and tapped his fingers on his cane.

‘And you figured you could do that by ruining his life.’

‘I didn’t ruin his life,’ House said with a dramatic roll of the eyes. ‘Look, to most of the patients, it looks like a prank. Which it is. Most of them don’t know who Wilson is. Everybody who does, knows it was me. Wilson should just relax. Laugh at himself. It was funny. I don’t know why he got so freaked out in the first place.’ Which was a lie, of course. If it had been a random doll House had bought specifically to torment Wilson with, he wouldn’t have cared. Well, maybe a little. But he certainly wouldn’t be on the edge of popping a brain aneurysm. But just the fact that Wilson knew the thing was his. Well. That changed matters entirely.

Cuddy had been rambling on the whole time House was thinking, but he managed to catch the end of her little speech, which went something like, ‘receiving one week’s suspension, effective immediately,’ and figured it was directed toward him and not the Ficus plant in the corner of the office.

‘One problem with that, though,’ House said, scratching at the knee of his jeans. ‘Wilson’s staying with me. You sent him home, that means my place. Bad news is, I’ve run out of clever ways to torment him.’

Cuddy narrowed her eyes. ‘I didn’t say you had to go home. Go... get drunk or something. Or, hey here’s a novel idea: you could apologise to him!’

‘To the blow-up doll? Gosh, I really hope I didn’t hurt its feelings, leaving it floating up there all day...’

‘House. Shut up. Go away. Quit tormenting your best friend,’ Cuddy said.

‘Don’t worry,’ House replied. ‘I’ve only seen Wilson vengeful a couple of times. I’m already pretty sure this is going to come back to bite me on the ass. He’s probably de-strung my piano by now, or poured superglue in my Astroglide bottle, or something equally devious.’

House tapped his cane on the ground once before hoisting himself up. ‘Well, see you in a week, boss,’ he called on his way out.

Current Mood: cold