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Well, House couldn't deny that he had already thought about it. The nights right after Amber's death were the worst; he would wake up looking at his bedroom door, thinking about how she was a mirror of him, how he could help his best friend without it seeming like there were ulterior motives behind it. But deep down, he knew that there had always been that feeling for Wilson, and it wasn't going away anytime soon.
After some mental debates and three Vicodin pills, he just left the apartment with his cane and muttered complaints because of the familiar pain in his leg early in the morning. He heard James yelling, ordering him to stop the elevator so he could also get in. House pressed the ground floor button and smiled faintly.
The two met at the car door, and when Wilson looked angrily at Gregory and slapped his shoulder. "I would never marry you," House furrowed his eyebrows, immediately remembering the conversation they had with one of the neighbors on their floor, with James retorting that they were never a couple when the woman started babbling about how she thought marriage became more beautiful and naive as the years passed.
Greg swallowed hard at the memory and quickly disguised it with his usual sarcasm, getting into the car and tossing his cane into some corner.
Now he was in his office, tossing his ball against the wall in a back-and-forth motion while thinking about how everything had turned out this way, how he never had the courage to admit that to his best friend, and how he always helped him with his relationships even though he was broken inside.
He stopped, closed his eyes, and let his mind wander; the ball dropped to the floor and rolled to the slowly opening door of the room.
"House?" Cameron's voice invaded the room suddenly; she watched the older man open only one eye and look disinterested. "It's leukemia. Wilson's already on the case."
The man rolled his eyes and turned his chair. "Great, tell him to administer the chemotherapy."
Cameron pressed her lips, already knowing what was coming. "Actually, he's leaving, said he has no more patients."
House raised an eyebrow, looking suspiciously at her. "It's a lie." And then, he limped out with his cane as fast as he could.
Wilson was leaving some paperwork and making polite requests to a beautiful nurse, who was nervous about the oncologist's hurry.
"Wilson!" Gregory yelled, and James rolled his eyes hard and sighed. "You're going to hook up tonight and didn't invite me for the threesome? Thought there was loyalty in our friendship."
"I'm not hooking up," the shorter man sighed again, signing something in the nurse's hands without making eye contact with her out of sheer embarrassment.
"It's not what your emerald-green tie says." House pulled the fabric of James' clothes and smirked cynically, leaning on his cane. "That shade doesn't complement your eyes."
"House, I need to go. Tomorrow you can embarrass me as much as you want." He left the building, hailing a taxi across the street.
James arrived home in the early hours of the morning; he saw his friend's feet propped up on the coffee table in the living room and shuddered, dropping the things he held on the nearest surface and leaned against the wall, sliding slowly to the apartment floor.
"Wilson?" The voice was hoarse, very hoarse, and after a few seconds, the sound of wood hitting wood approached the body on the floor. "What happened?"
James raised his gaze and stared at House's figure above him, studying his features, looking for some problem.
It turns out that Wilson was a complete idiot; he lost control during the night and drank too much during his "date." Yeah, I know, I know, House was completely right, it was a date.
At some point in the night, James' head felt so heavy, and his thoughts came out along with the words in his mouth. So he let slip that it wasn't the same thing with his friend, and the woman in front of him asked, running her hand up his arm. Wilson coughed and said that it was never the same with women as it was with his best friend of years.
The woman's fingers froze in place, and she nervously laughed, and from there, it was a mess; Wilson found himself forced to drink water like crazy and sober up as quickly as possible to say that he had expressed himself poorly and to prevent the first chance of relief in months from slipping away.
"I need to sleep," James said, standing up abruptly and going to the apartment corridor, but not before House grabbed his wrist tightly and forced him to look at him. "Greg, let me go to sleep, please..."
"What happened, huh?" House's gaze passed over James' entire face, carefully analyzing and seeking an answer.
Wilson tried to break free but couldn't even move. That damn old man had ridiculous strength in his arms.
His gaze rose to meet his, and his breath hitched; the earlier conversation came back to him, hitting him hard. Wilson looked away and took a deep breath, muttering a lame excuse and saying he just needed to rest.
But that didn't happen; House pushed him against the corridor wall and looked into his eyes, keeping his body pinned and defenseless with just one of his hands.
"Greg...please." He begged, disguising his trembling voice and shaky legs as much as possible.
"Your date didn't go well? Tell me what happened."
Gregory fell silent the moment James moved towards him, pulling his neck to crush their lips together. And even before he realized his mistake, House was returning his kiss, panting between pain and despair when he pulled the other man's body and almost forgot about his own cane.
Any trace of alcohol in Wilson disappeared at that moment; he felt his mouth tingle and pulled away from the man.
"House...damn it, fuck." He wiped the drool from his mouth and shook his head in denial. "I don't know what..."
"Wilson, please, shut up. I need to have the chance to kiss your mouth for at least a little while longer..."
James fell silent, looking surprised at him.
Greg held his waist and kissed a freckle on his bare clavicle. He really knew how to seduce a woman, great choice.
The other melted in his arms, muttering curses and pushing his best friend's body towards the living room couch until he could sit on his lap. Wilson leaned on his good leg and smiled before House captured his lips again.