Work Text:
“Yeah, I want an order of lo mien- no, ONE ORDER."
House pinched his nose and rolled his eyes as the woman on the phone messed up his order. Wilson smirked, rolling onto his back. It was almost two in the morning, but House knew every take out restaurant in New Jersey that delivered at such late hours.
It was the third time they had had sex in a week. Wilson was slowly getting better at staving off full blown panic attacks about what they were doing. What it would do to Cuddy, to their jobs, their lives, if anyone found out. He sucked in another gulp of air, drumming his fingers against his sheets.
“And six scallion pancakes. PANCAKES. Oh for God’s sake.” House rubbed his face. "Wǒ xiǎng cōng yóubǐng hé dàn juǎn.”
Apparently this cleared it up. He shrugged hugely at Wilson. Idiots, he mouthed. “Yeessss. Jiù zhèyàng.”
He sighed and hung up, flopping back down on the mattress as gracefully as someone with one good leg and no sense of elegance could. “Nobody in this country has an IQ over 16."
He reached out, stroking the top of Wilson’s head absentmindedly. It was a sweet and gentle gesture, something he was still having trouble reconciling with his image of House. He wondered suddenly how many women he had done the same thing to. A bolt of panic went through his stomach. He reached up and gripped House’s wrist.
“When did you learn Chinese?” He asked bluntly. Anything to distract from the guilt threatening to overcome him.
“My dad was stationed in Suzhou when I was in tenth grade."
"How many languages do you speak?"
He raised his eyebrows, momentarily stunned by the question. Then he shrugged, resuming playing with Wilson's hair.
"A bunch." He said lightly.
"I only have English and a little Hebrew."
House scoffed.
"What?" Wilson asked defensively.
"You do not speak Hebrew. Saying Baruch ata Adonai once in seventh grade isn't a language, it's a password to your old rich aunts check books."
"You know, one of my favorite things about you is your respect for other cultures." Wilson deadpanned, and House smirked. Wilson sat up, letting House's hand fall from his body.
"Teach me something.”
“You want to learn a language?” He asked. Wilson was pleased he had managed to throw his friend off his game. His stomach was starting to settle. House squinted at him for a moment, as though trying to tell if he was making fun of him.
“Teach me something." Wilson repeated.
"Spanish is one of the closest to English in terms of verbs and nouns." House decides. "You wanna learn colors or how to count to ten?"
Wilson rubbed his thumb on House’s palm. “What’s this?”
House paused, curling his hand around Wilson’s finger. “Mano.”
He moved his other hand to House’s hip. “This?”
“Cadera.” The corner of House’s mouth twitched. “You wanna keep moving south, bud?"
Wilson swallowed. “Say what I say?”
House laced his fingers through Wilson’s still in his hand. "Digo lo que digo."
Wilson smiled, his stomach feeling uneasy again. “This has been fun.”
"Esto ha sido muy divertido.” House leaned in. “Did you like that thing I did with my finger?"
Wilson turned pink. “Hey. Focus.”
“Ooh, I’m going to take that as a si.”
Wilson pulled his hands off of House and took a small, shaky breath.
"I'm scared.” He said carefully.
"...Tengo miedo."
"I feel like we're pushing our luck here."
"Siento que estamos empujando nuestra suerte aquí.”
“Sooner or later, someone is going to-“ He paused. Find out? Get hurt? “-lose.”
"Tarde o temprano, alguien va a perder.” House said under his breath. Wilson closed his eyes.
“House, stop.”
“What do you want me to say?” He whined. “I’m not the only one doing this. It takes two to tango.” He slapped a hand on Wilson’s thigh.
“Yes, but I’m not in a relationship.”
“¿No es cierto?”
Wilson sighed. “What does that mean?” He murmured.
“Aren’t you?”
Wilson looked up, his mouth falling slightly open. House stared him down, intense blue eyes like lasers. The bedroom was silent for was felt like hours.
Wilson looked down and pressed the tip of his tongue against his teeth.
“Ut-shay up-ay and- isa-kay e-may.” He said. House frowned.
“Did you-Did you just speak in Pig Latin?”
Wilson dragged him down and kissed him roughly.
“House.” He growled. “No more talking."