Chapter Text
Like anyone with recently-discovered repressed-romantic feelings for their best friend of over a decade, House’s immediate response to his realization was to avoid thinking about them for as long as possible, a feat which was easier said than done considering that the oncologist was currently sleeping on his couch.
He’d started arriving early at work to avoid seeing Wilson in the mornings. He’d made the mistake of trying to pretend like everything was normal the morning after the poker tournament and had lasted all of two minutes before the sight of Wilson blinking sleepily and yawning as he made them both coffee had made his chest go abnormally warm and fuzzy.
House didn’t know how he’d avoided realizing his feelings for so long. Nothing had changed between them since his epiphany, but everything just felt….intensified. The sound of Wilson’s voice filled him with an odd sense of comfort. It wasn’t odd because of how it felt, though, it was odd because it wasn’t new. Wilson had always been a source of comfort for House, even without him knowing it.
Stealing Wilson’s food and barging into his office uninvited no longer felt like he was just playing around with his best friend, instead it felt like there was something more intimate to it. They were moments that belonged entirely to them. To House and Wilson. No one else existed in those moments but them.
Every interaction between them was amplified now. House was more aware of everything in regard to Wilson. He always had been more observant of the oncologist than of anyone else, but he’d never really processed what he was doing. Now, seeing Wilson’s eyes soften slightly as House approached him or hearing him laugh at one of House’s jokes was enough to cause the warm and fuzzy feeling to return.
Maybe if it was a small, harmless, schoolgirl crush, House could have ignored it. He could have hired a hooker and forced it back under the crevices of his mind. But it was much deeper than that and, despite his effort, House couldn’t pretend otherwise.
He loved Wilson. He was in love with him. He had been for years, for longer than he would ever know.
It was just too bad Wilson was straight.
From House’s perspective, there were only three possible options from here:
Option One: Abruptly end his decade and a half long friendship with the oncologist with the hope that distance would allow him to move on and get back to his daily routine of not being bothered about anyone else.
Option Two: Confess his feelings to Wilson only for the younger man to reject him, leading to Wilson eventually moving out because of the awkwardness and their friendship being permanently ruined.
Option Three: Stay silent about his feelings and maintain his friendship with Wilson for as long as possible until House could find something or someone new to distract him.
Option One was impossible, House knew that. He’d never be able to walk away from Wilson. He couldn’t believe he was admitting that, but it was true. Living without Wilson just didn’t seem possible. If Wilson ever walked away from him….well, House didn’t know what he would do.
Option Two was equally unlikely because it meant he’d still lose Wilson. He knew the other man would be nice enough to try and pretend like everything was the same and nothing had to change, but that would be worse. He couldn’t be ‘just’ friends with Wilson. They’d never really been ‘just’ friends.
Option Three was the most plausible but that meant having to watch Wilson enter countless relationships with women until he found the next Mrs. Wilson. The thought, however, of standing by and watching Wilson throw himself into endless doomed relationships made House more nauseous than any of the other options.
None of the options were ideal which left House embracing avoidance as a temporary solution. He knew he’d have to talk to Wilson sooner than later, but for the past few days he’d been able to successfully avoid him.
He’d thrown himself into his current case - a pregnant woman bleeding out of her eardrums - and finished a week’s worth of clinic hours. He stayed at the hospital late, only returning when he was sure Wilson would be sleeping. Each time he entered the apartment and walked past Wilson’s sleeping form sprawled on the couch, House would see a note on the kitchen table directing him to warm up the leftovers of what Wilson had made for dinner.
When the pair did talk, which was unavoidable given their daily routines were intertwined, House tried to keep up the act. He made the same crude jokes and feigned interest in random women that walked by. It wasn’t 100% convincing, but it delayed the inevitable.
In any case, Wilson didn’t seem eager to confront him about the new distance. At least, not yet.
It had only been three days but House knew Wilson, or someone else, was going to say something soon. Avoidance wouldn’t work forever which meant he had to decide one of the options.
He figured he had a day or two at most before making his choice. His guess, however, was quickly proven wrong when Cuddy barged into his office midway through the week.
“What’s going on between you and Wilson?” She demanded, eyebrows furrowed as glared down at House.
“Wilson?” House answered with fake confusion, “Doesn’t ring a bell.”
“You’re arriving early, doing your clinic hours, leaving late, no longer interrupting his patient meetings or calling him for unneeded consults-,”
“Did you actually come in here to complain about me being a hard-working, respectful employee?” House cut her off in an accusatory tone, “Perhaps you should rethink the Dean of Medicine title.”
“ You have never been a well-behaved employee,” Cuddy pointed out, sharpening her glare, “Clearly something’s going on between you two. I’ve noticed it and so have you fellows. They’re concerned.”
“Is Wilson concerned?” House asked before he could stop himself, internally cursing himself for slipping up.
“Should he be?” Cuddy inquired in response.
“Everything’s just peachy,” House yawned loudly, “Maybe some of his whole caring-about-patients shtick is finally rubbing off on me. And even if something was going on, it has nothing to do with you.”
“That right there tells me there is something you’re not telling me. And it actually has everything to do with me, given you make it everyone’s business when you’re in a bad mood, especially when that mood is related to your unhealthy, codependent friendship with my head of oncology,” Cuddy snapped.
“So that’s why you’re here? Worried I’m going to disrupt the otherwise smooth everyday workings of Princeton-Plainsboro Teaching Hospital?” House remarked
House reached out for a case file but Cuddy quickly snatched it away.
“Listen to me, House. Wilson hasn’t said anything to me. But for some godforsaken reason he cares about you more than anyone else. So I’d advise you that it’s in your best interest not to push him away.”
“What do you want me to say?” House stood up slowly and limped over, “Why don’t you tell me what you came here to hear me say?”
“The truth!” Cuddy shouted loud enough for anyone standing outside his office to hear, “I’m not playing a game here.”
“Neither am I!” House matched her volume, “I don’t know how many times you need to hear me say that everything’s normal. You said it yourself, my performance has improved. Why not just take the win?”
“House,” Cuddy stepped closer and placed her hand on his bicep, “I’m not asking as your boss. I’m asking as a friend, a concerned friend. I’ve known you both a long time. Whatever reason you have for not talking to him….well, all I can say is that if you think you’re doing either of you a favour, you’re mistaken. You need him and he needs you.”
House closed his eyes, leaning in slightly to Cuddy’s touch. He didn’t want to continue avoiding the topic. It was exhausting. He needed to talk to someone about it. It was the sort of thing you talked to a friend about, but seeing how it was impossible to talk to Wilson about it, maybe Cuddy would have to do.
“Ask me again,” he mumbles softly, “Ask me what you want to know.”
“What’s going on between you and Wilson? Why are you avoiding him?” Cuddy’s voice was gentle as she all but whispered the question.
“I’m….” He trailed off.
He couldn’t say it. Saying it meant he could never take it back.
“I know something happened after the poker tournament,” Cuddy said, “When you were on the phone with him, everything was normal. Then you came to work the next day and suddenly everything had changed.”
House sighed and clenched his fist. It was now or never.
“I…,” He tried speaking again, “I love him. That’s what happened.”
Cuddy inhaled sharply and for a moment the pair just stood in silence, her hand still resting comfortably on his arm.
“He doesn’t reciprocate?” She asked finally, confusion seeping into her tone.
“I didn’t tell him,” House admitted, “I only realized it that night. I’ve been avoiding him since because I’m not ready to lose him.”
“Why would you lose him?”
Now it was House’s turn to be confused.
“I think telling my best friend I’ve been in love with him for probably our entire friendship and everytime I’m near him my heart physically aches because I can’t have him is a guaranteed friendship-ender. Wilson’s a nice guy, he’d let me down gently, but it would be too awkward. He’d move out, start dating, get married again, and I’d just have to watch knowing he deliberately rejected me. At least if he doesn’t know, it doesn’t have to feel like a rejection,” House’s voice was softer than he ever thought it could be.
“Oh my God,” Cuddy’s eyes widened and she took a step back, “You seriously think he’d reject you?”
“He’s straight,” House pointed out, “Surely you’ve heard of his reputation with the nurses.”
“As opposed to you who comments on women’s bodies all of the time, including to their faces,” Cuddy said with raised eyebrows.
“For the record, I’m bisexual,” House defended, “But Wilson is different. He’s not…like me.”
“No one’s like you,” Cuddy replied, “And no one’s like Wilson. He’s probably the only person in the world that is willing to put up with you no matter what. That isn’t normal behaviour. The word normal doesn’t apply to your relationship.”
“This isn’t helpful,” House groaned, “Just leave and forget I said anything. I’ll figure it out soon enough.”
“No,” Cuddy’s tone was forceful as she shook her head, “For someone so smart, you’re unbelievably dumb at times. You’re a world famous diagnostician but somehow….”
“What?” House narrowed his eyebrows.
“Just talk to him,” Cuddy said with a small smile, “Go home and talk to him.”
“And say what?”
“You know what to say,” with that, she slowly backed out of the room, leaving House alone with his thoughts.
He knew she was right. His conversation with Cuddy, while embarrassingly revealing, was proof that being unable to talk to Wilson was making him lose his mind. He would go home and tell him. He would lose him, but, at the very least, Wilson deserved to know the truth.
By the time House returned to his apartment, Wilson had already been back for an hour or so. The door creaked open quietly and the smell of whatever Wilson was cooking filled his nostrils.
He walked toward the kitchen and found Wilson facing him, turned away from the stove.
“You’re back early,” The younger man observed, “First time you’ve come back before 11 this week.”
House didn’t say anything, instead he just allowed himself a second to take in the sight in front of him.
Wilson had changed out of his work clothes and into a pair of sweatpants and a t-shirt. He looked comfortable and relaxed in a way he could never be at work. It was a sight House had become familiar with throughout their friendship. Wilson always let his guard down when it was just the two of them.
House would miss it.
“House?” Wilson asked concerned, causing House to realize he’d been silent for too long.
“We should talk,” House said and internally winced.
There was no going back now.
“It’s okay,” Wilson sighed, “I know what you’re going to say.”
“Y-you do?” House stammered. His heart started beating rapidly as Wilson seemed to take an eon to respond.
Had it been that obvious?
“You’ve been distant recently,” Wilson nodded, “It’s my fault. I need to move out.”
“What?” That hadn’t been what House was expecting to hear.
“It’s fine, House. I’ve overstayed my welcome, I get it. It used to be just the two of us at work and then we’d hang out after but we still had our own personal lives. We don’t have that anymore because I’m always around, which is why you’re avoiding me. You don’t want to be with me all the time. I’ve already started packing, I’ll be out tomorrow afternoon…”
Whatever Wilson said next was drowned out by House’s thoughts. Wilson didn’t sound hurt, but House hated that he thought that when, in reality, the opposite was true. Letting Wilson blame himself for the friendship ending would be easy, but it wasn’t fair. And it wouldn’t get rid of the weight crushing House’s chest.
“No!” House blurted out abruptly, interrupting Wilson midway through his sentence.
“No?” Wilson questioned.
“No,” House repeated, “You haven’t overstayed your welcome. I’m not tired of you. I don’t want you to move out.”
Wilson dropped the spatula he had been holding on the countertop and took a step toward House, “Then why aren’t you talking to me? I’ve spent the past three days asking myself over and over again what happened, and nothing else makes sense other than you want me gone.”
The younger man’s voice cracked slightly on his last few words and House’s heart gave a sharp pang.
There were a million things he needed to say. A million things he needed to explain. But at that moment, all House had the courage to say was, “It’s not your fault.”
“Did something happen? Something with Stacy? Or Cuddy?” Wilson sounded desperate.
“It’s…” House sighed as he found himself struggling for words, “I’m not sure how to say this.”
“You don’t need to push me away,” Wilson’s voice was gentle, “I’m your friend.”
Being reminded of that word made House’s chest tighten.
“It’s not about Stacy or Cuddy,” House replied and forced himself to look away from Wilson whose eyes were filled with concern, “I just can’t talk about it.”
“You’ve never been afraid to talk before,” Wilson scoffed and took a step back, “You always talk when you shouldn’t. If it’s not about them, then you’re it’s about me, isn’t it?”
House stayed silent in response. He had to say something, but the words just weren’t coming to him. His heart rate was climbing again. As he remained silent, he could see Wilson’s agitation growing.
“Fine,” Wilson seethed, nostrils flaring, “I’m not going to beg you to talk to me when it’s clear you don’t want to. Help yourself to dinner, I’ll pack the last of my stuff and be out in half an hour.”
House wasn’t sure how it all managed to go wrong so quickly. He was out of time.
“STOP!” House surged forward, wincing at the discomfort the movement caused his leg. He’d managed to block Wilson from exiting the kitchen, cornering him against one of the cabinets instead.
“Get out of my way,” Wilson demanded through gritted teeth as his shoulders shook silently.
House didn’t move. The pair were so close that House could smell Wilson’s body wash and freshly-shampooed hair. He took a second to breathe in the earthy scent.
“Just let me talk, please,” House was surprised to hear himself begging, “I don’t want you to leave. You’ve not overstayed your welcome. That’s not why I’m avoiding you.”
Wilson flicked his eyes to the side, unwilling to meet House’s gaze.
“I just needed some space, that’s all,” House continued, his voice shaking slightly, “Something happened and-”
“I know something happened,” Wilson cut in, forcefully pushing himself past House and into the living room, “That much has been obvious.”
“Wilson-” House followed him as he walked away.
“I just don’t understand why you won’t tell me what happened,” Wilson shook his head, “I don’t know why you’ve been pushing me away the past few days. Everything was fine after the poker tournament and then the next morning you could barely look me in the eye.”
“Wilson-,” House tried again, trying to ignore the way his whole body was trembling.
“For the past three days we’ve said maybe five sentences to each other,” Wilson’s voice was rising, “You wake up early and come back late to avoid talking to me. I don’t know where you go for lunch but it’s certainly not the cafeteria, and I know that because I fucking asked a couple of my nurses to wait there for you yesterday-”
“Wilson-,” The younger man, however, showed no sign of stopping his rant anytime soon.
“I’m pathetic, I know. But that’s what this friendship does to me, House. It makes me desperate and pathetic,” Wilson groaned, “I’m standing in your apartment begging you for an explanation about why you’re avoiding me when any normal person would just take the hint and leave. I told myself I would tell you tonight and the topic would be settled, but instead we’re still talking because I’m too afraid to let this screwed-up relationship end!”
Wilson was breathing heavily as the words tumbled out of him. For the first time, House noticed the tears in the younger man’s eyes.
“And I just c-can’t…I need to know why,” Wilson was pleading now, “I need to know what changed. Everything was normal one moment and the next you seemed to hate being in the same room as me for longer than a few minutes. You’ve been doing your clinic hours for God’s sake-”
“I’m in love with you!” House shouted finally, “That’s what changed!”
Wilson finally fell silent, eyes widening in shock as House’s heart threatened to break out of his chest.
“That’s the reason I’m avoiding you. Not because I want you gone, but the opposite. Because I always want to be around you. I don’t want you to move out, I want you to move in permanently. I can’t stop thinking about you, even when you’re not around. You’re the first thing I think about when I wake up and the last thing I think about at night. You’re even in my dreams, you know? I can’t get away from you even then. Being without you hurts, but being next to you hurts even more because I can’t ignore the feelings. I always want to kiss you or hold you or touch you and I have to somehow live with the fact that you’ll never feel the same. And it’s not your fault but do you know how painful-,”
House was cut off by Wilson’s lips suddenly pressing against his. He let out a soft gasp of surprise at first before pulling the younger man impossibly closer.
It wasn’t anything like his dreams. The dreams had failed to properly capture the softness of Wilson’s lips and their slight sweetness, nor had they included the frantic movements between the pair as both seemed equally desperate to touch each other. House tightened his hold on Wilson as he deepened the kiss, afraid to let the moment end out of fear it was just a dream.
He wasn’t sure how long they stayed like that. Their lips crushing together while their bodies seemed to pull into each other, the distance between them practically non-existent. His blood seemed to be buzzing underneath his skin, his heart was still racing but no longer out of fear. It was unlike anything he’d ever felt before.
House loved every second of it.
After what could have been anywhere from a few minutes to a few hours, Wilson finally pulled away to gasp for air. House could hear himself panting, but all he could think about was Wilson.
The younger man’s lips were red and slightly bruised, but he was smiling and his eyes were softer than House had ever seen them before. It was the most beautiful sight House had ever seen. He committed it to memory, intending to never forget it.
“Wilson?” It was a question, but House wasn’t sure what he was asking.
“I love you too,” Wilson replied with a grin, “For a long time. A really long time.”
“How long?” House inquired, feeling himself smiling.
“I don’t think it was ever a big moment,” the younger man admitted while hunching his shoulders, “I never really had an epiphany. I just always knew I felt different about you than everyone else. It wasn’t anything like with my wives so it took me a second, but eventually I realized it was because I’d never felt for them the way I felt for you.”
Hearing that felt like music to House’s ears.
He leaned forward again, this time kissing Wilson gently and resting his hands on the other man’s hips. It was soft and somehow even better than the first one.
House pulled away after a few moments and pressed his lips against Wilson’s neck, the way he’d imagined doing a million times before.
“H-House wait,” Wilson’s voice shook as House continued with the trail of kisses.
“Wilson,” He murmured against the oncologist’s neck, but didn’t move.
“Your turn,” Wilson replied, “I told you my side. When did you realize you were in love with me?”
“Ugh, fine, we’re coming back to this later though,” House rolled his eyes as he finally lifted his head and allowed his eyes to meet Wilson’s once more, “It was after the poker tournament. I was watching you ramble about your win and couldn’t stop thinking about how much I wanted to kiss you. The rest clicked into place from there.”
Wilson was silent for a few seconds and then, “I never said anything because I thought you were straight. Or at least figured I wasn’t your type.”
House chuckled, “I thought you were straight too. Although, the three failed marriages with women should have tipped me off much sooner, would’ve saved a lot of time. And for the record, you’re the only person that’s my type.”
Wilson’s smile widened as he blushed slightly. He moved forward then paused, as if to intended to continue the kiss, but thought against it.
“If I hadn’t said anything tonight, would you have told me? Or would you have just kept avoiding me until your feelings magically disappeared,” Wilson asked with raised eyebrows.
“I was leaning toward the second option for a while,” House reluctantly admitted, “But Cuddy cornered me right before I left and told me to tell you how I felt or I’d regret it.”
“She knew first?” Wilson sounded slightly jealous.
House enjoyed it.
“Only because I let it slip. I haven’t been able to think straight for days,” House responded with a shrug.
Wilson nodded, though House could tell it still bothered him slightly.
“Honestly, Wilson, if it wasn’t for her I probably wouldn’t have said anything and let you leave…,” House trailed off, hoping Wilson would understand what he was hinting at.
Luckily, the younger man always seemed to be able to read his mind.
“Guess we should get her a gift as a thank you?” Wilson smirked, looking relieved as he met House’s gaze with twinkling eyes.
“Guess so,” House replied with a matching smirk and pulled the oncologist against him once more. Wilson brushed his lips against House’s, which was all the permission House required to deepen the kiss with more force than the first time. Wilson let out a soft moan as all thoughts of everything else faded to the background. The only thing that mattered in the moment was them.