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Wilson sort of trotted down the tile flooring of PPTH, not quite running, but faster than he would normally walk. Granted, he did typically tend to walk at a very leisurely pace. It didn’t take him long to catch up with his friend, who was currently on the way to the hospital cafeteria for his lunch break. Likely to be eating on Wilson’s own paycheck.
“House-“
“If you’ve come to lecture me about my patient then don’t bother.”
Wilson made a mental note to figure out what the hell House had done this time, but not before continuing his proposition.
“No, no. House, I wanted to ask you for a favor. Tonight is the first night of Hanukkah, and it would mean a lot to me if you could stop by my place to celebrate a little. You don’t have to bring anything or stay for long.”
“You know-“
House paused briefly to collect his meal. “Normally, I’d consider it. But I have a date.”
House? A date? With a woman? Never.
“You do not.”
“Fine. A hooker.”
“Then cancel! This is important to me, House. Look, if you want I can even pay you back for your…hooker.”
At that, House perked up a little.
“Pay me back double and I’ll pretend to be interested.”
“Triple, and you show up for all eight nights.”
The two went on like this for the rest of their break, but eventually came to an agreement. An agreement which let Wilson get his way, for once. House would be paid handsomely and would show up at Wilson’s place for all eight nights of the celebration. Wilson was actually quite excited, and House…well, he wasn’t actually dreading it as much as he pretended to be.
Later that night. Wilson waited anxiously in his living room. He had set up everything just so and had made sure that he had bought all the best things. He had a brand new pack of candles for the menorah and a carefully wrapped box for House, if he ever showed up, that is. The minutes had passed and the man hadn’t show. Wilson sighed. Of course this would happen. House wasn’t really his friend. He only- Knock knock knock.
Wilson’s stream of doubt was quickly cut off by a sharp knock.
“House. You came.”
“Nope. I was going to, but then you made me cancel .”
Wilson rolled his eyes.
“Do you know the story?”
“Yep.”
“Alright. I’m going to do the prayers. Now, I know that you probably couldn’t be more bored, but I would appreciate it if you could pay attention. I bought you a present.”
House must have been tired or something, because he actually listened.
“…Can I do the candles next time?”
House immediately popped a Vicodin after his question. It wasn’t even for his leg. He just wanted an excuse to look away.
“Wait, really? You want to? Of course you can, I just didn’t think that you’d actually be interested enough to want to participate.”
“Better than clinic hours. And I get a gift out of it.”
Wilson smiled gently. Maybe House really did care. In fact, House seemed to care an awful lot for the next several nights. In his own, assholeish way, of course. Wilson noticed a few…abnormalities over the next few days. A brand new mug in the sink, a book on his shelf that he hadn’t remembered buying. Small things, but things all the same. Things from House.
This night, the second to last, was the first time that the man had actually been obvious about his contribution.
“Hi. I brought dinner.” He shoved a large plastic takeout bag into Wilson’s hands and then quickly, (that is, as quickly as a man with a cane could) made his way over to the sofa.
“Did you buy this on my card?”
“Nope.”
“…did you steal it?”
“Nope.”
“Huh. It seems as though you’ve been influenced by the holiday spirit.”
“Or maybe I was just hungry. Either way, I got our favorites.”
The two ate together in a comfortable silence. It was nice to actually have House’s company for once. Wilson had celebrated many Hanukkahs, but never with House. With his ex-wives, yes, but never with House.
“…Why are you doing this? Why are you being nice for once? Why are you leaving me gifts?!”
“I got paid last week. And you’re covering my hookers, which also means that you’re covering about 50 other things. Did I tell you about the girl who can tune a piano?”
“Stop changing the subject. You’re…an ass, House. You’re a selfish bastard who couldn’t give a damn about anyone other than yourself! You aren’t supposed to…to be civil! Let alone nice!”
“You know, I’m not incapable of human emotion. I’m not some bleeding heart oncologist who can hold your hand while you die, but I’m not heartless!”
Wilson decided to just leave it there. He might not understand House’s compassion, but he certainly wasn’t going to turn it down. Besides, the gifts were nice.
And on the last night, the two had a particularly wonderful time together. House even eventually joined in on the prayers, much to Wilson’s surprise.
“You learned them?”
“You say the same thing every time. It was easy. I also learn the name of all the Monster Jam trucks when they release new ones. And how to rob the vending machine. And the exact dimensions of Lisa Cuddy’s behind. Don’t get all sentimental about it.”
“Yeah, but that’s different. I appreciate it, House. I really do.”
“I’m sorry, did you miss the part where I said not to get sentimental? I could have just as easily been reading over your shoulder. I am an ass, remember?”
Wilson simply sighed and continued on. God, the man was a mystery sometimes. He couldn’t stand to be seen as soft, ever. Even when he was.
“Now, since it’s the last day, you get the most expensive present. I even wrapped it.”
He presented House with an expensive old medical textbook wrapped neatly and decorated with a note reading ‘Greg-Made me think of you.’ Wilson didn’t know this yet, but he would later find a sweater laid out on his bed, brand new and incredibly soft. House’s own last gift. One which would soon become one of Wilson’s favorites.
“Huh.”
Wilson stood there awkwardly for a long moment.
“Come here.”
“My leg hurts.”
“Come here.”
House slowly propped himself up and limped over. It really must be hurting him. And then without much warning, Wilson enveloped the man in an awkward but very warm hug. House remained mostly neutral, but enjoyed it nonetheless. He rarely got that kind of human contact. Without any background cause or ulterior motive. It lasted quite a long time. Or maybe it didn’t. It was hard to tell. Regardless, it was…nice. It was the best of Wilson’s gifts, despite being the cheapest.
“Happy Hanukkah.”
“…Thank you.”
“Thank you.”