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"House, you're right. Why not? Why not date you? It's brilliant! We've known each other for years, we've put up with all kinds of crap from each other, and we keep coming back. We're a couple!" Wilson gesticulated wildly.
House stared at him. Blinked. Stared a little longer.
“Are… we still speaking metaphorically?”
“Amber is exactly what I need-”
“You just said you’d date me?” House interjected, staring at Wilson again. (He seemed to find himself doing that a lot, his brain supplied.)
“Oh, well, if you’d looked at me with those flashing eyes before I was involved,” Wilson smirked. “Anyways, she and I are a great match, for your information,” he added, shutting his office door in House’s face and leaving him with a strange, swooping feeling in his stomach.
---
House slouched in his chair, feet up on the desk as he tossed a ball into the air. (Not Wilson’s, unfortunately, his rubber one. He wanted to, though. Play with Wilso- wait, what the fuck was he thinking?)
He sat up straighter and sighed, pulling out his orange prescription bottle (that Wilson had prescribed to him, despite almost going to jail for it, his mind supplied). Shaking out a pill, he gulped it down, wincing as it almost got stuck in his throat. He wished something else was in hi- what the fuck. Was he high? Or was he, maybe, possibly, actually attracted to Wilson?
He snickered to himself. Attracted to Wilson? To that pathetic man, with the floppy brown hair, and those soft, brown eyes, and his gentle-
For what felt like the hundredth time that day, House shook himself. He couldn’t be, well, into Wilson. Could he?
---
“Doctor, uh, Thirteen?” Wilson asked tentatively.
“Doctor Wilson? Is everything alright?” she replied.
“Yes, yes. Well, uh, sort of, I guess? I was hoping you could, erm, assist me with something. Could you just come to my office?” he stammered, twisting his hands behind his back. A confused Thirteen followed him to his office, where, after locking the door, he leaned against it and burst.
“I think I’m bisexual.” Saying it aloud was terrifying, but it made it much more real.
“How do you know I’m bisexual?” she snapped, gripping the arms of her seat tightly.
“I heard your patient tell your co-workers, she said she overheard you?” Wilson said placatingly. “But so, like, you get why I need your help, right? I think I’m bisexual. Specifically, I think I’m attracted to House.”
Oh God.
He’d said it.
Thirteen stared at him blankly but relaxed.
“You didn’t know?” she asked him incredulously. “Dr. Wilson, I mean this respectfully, but literally anyone can see you’re into House. I shouldn’t tell you this, but Chase even has a bet going on when you’re going to get together.”
What.
The fuck.
“I’m sorry, Dr. Thirteen-”
“Call me Remy.”
“What?”
“That’s- uh, that’s my name. I dunno, this conversation’s a bit too serious for you to call me Thirteen, isn’t it?”
Wilson smiled a little at that- he knew none of the other fellows, or even House, knew her real name.
“Alright, Remy. Call me James, then. Anyways, I’m sorry, what? I just realised I might be into House! What do you mean, everyone else thinks I am?”
Thirteen sobered up a little at that.
“Maybe I shouldn’t have been so blunt,” she said, leaning back. “After all, you just started questioning it. What happened now that made you think you’re into him?”
He told her the whole story- him dating Amber, House’s reservations over their relationship, his epiphany when he crashed their date, his realisation he wouldn’t mind dating House, the moment House looked at him with that almost smouldering look which was surprisingly very attra-
“Okay, okay, I get it! Please do not describe my boss like that.” She shuddered. “Anyways, James, from what you’re saying? Yeah, you’re definitely bisexual. And into him.”
His heart dropped. There went the small doubts he had had. He was doomed to a life of pining for his best friend.
“How do I get over this?” he whispered to himself. Thirteen looked at him like he was crazy.
“Get over this? James, are you insane? The man is so very clearly into you too, it’s crazy! Why do you think we have a betting pool, for God’s sake?” she all but yelled at him. “Come on, man, you’re a doctor, you’re supposed to be smart. You two need to get your shit together.”
She rose and was about to leave, but then turned back to him.
“By the way, I’m about to place a bet for this week. Don’t let me down, Jimmy,” she winked, and left the room, leaving him to contemplate these new revelations.
---
House threw open Wilson’s office door. He grabbed his sandwich and propped himself up on his desk, tearing a chunk out of the sandwich from the part that Wilson had just bitten from, which was almost like kissing him, since their lips had touched the same-
“House! Give me back my lunch!” Wilson demanded, hands on his hips, scowling with a little pout that House longed to wipe off-
He really needed his brain to shut up.
“Oh, come on, Wilson. Share a little with your best bud!” he said, taking another bite. “We’re dating, after all, aren’t we?” he added, the sounds muffled.
“We’re not.”
“Well, yeah, you’re dating The Cutthroat Bitch.”
“No, I mean, I broke up with Amber,” Wilson sighed.
House stopped chewing.
“I’m sorry, what? You said she was exactly what you needed? That you were a great match, yadda yadda yadda. Don’t tell me this is ‘cause I said you’re sleeping with me, because that’s kind of homophobic, Jimmy,” he grinned.
“I don’t think I can be homophobic, though, really. I’m bisexual, aren’t I?”
House gaped at him. Wilson smirked at that.
“Now I’m gonna think you’re homophobic, House.” He got up and shut the door of his office- had that always been open? He then leaned against it, and House noticed his shirt sleeves, rolled up halfway, and his tousled brown hair, and-
“You’re staring.”
House rolled his eyes to hide the fact that he had, in fact, been very much staring.
“You wish.”
Wilson took a step towards House. Then another.
“Tell me if you want me to stop,” Wilson whispered, but it wasn’t shy.
“Stop what? Wilson, what are you-”
Wilson kissed him.
Wilson’s lips were on his.
Wilson had the front of his shirt in his hand and was kissing him.
House was frozen for a moment, and Wilson began to pull back. But then House shot a hand out and kept him in place, kissing back. They stayed like that for a moment, then Wilson pulled back, resting his forehead against House’s.
“I broke up with her because she was a pretty lousy replacement for the real deal.” he murmured.
“Damn.” House replied. “I guess I’m bisexual too, then.”
They didn’t leave the room for a long time.
---
An hour later, House limped out of the office, noticeably disheveled. His hair was a mess, his shirt even more rumpled than normal but the most damning detail was the purple mark on his neck, under his jaw.
He spotted Thirteen, who was leaning against the counter, talking to Chase.
“Guess I do it both ways too,” he told her. She turned to Chase.
“See! Pay up.”
Chase was gaping at him, and at Wilson behind him who looked just as disheveled. He grumbled and handed her an envelope of cash.
“Nice going, James,” she said to Wilson, who grinned.
“Least I could do, Remy.”
House gave an exaggerated gasp. “Remy? You told my boyfriend your name? Before me, your employer?” He whirled around to look at Wilson. “And you! You’re on first name terms with her? I have been betrayed!”
“Oh, shut up, you big drama queen,” Wilson sighed.
“You love it.”