Work Text:
ංංං
9am /The Clinic/
“…. The same reason you’re wearing that tie.” House stared pointedly at Wilson. He paused, deciding to just go along with whatever House was trying to imply.
“Well exactly, that was going to be my next point-“ House cut him off,
“The last three months, the same five ties. Thursday should be that paisley thing.” House made a vague gesture at Wilson’s chest, indicating the change in wardrobe.
“It’s a gift from a patient.” Wilson attempted to defend himself.
“No it’s not, if a patient gets their doctor a tie,” He scoffed at the idea of being gifted something so banal, continuing,
“The patient is going to get them something that looks like every other tie the doctor has worn. This is the first time I’ve ever seen you wear anything green.” House paused dramatically,
“You bought that yourself.” He finished with a smug grin. Wilson sighed in defeat,
“And your point?” He hoped this wasn’t going where he thought it was.
“You want to look pretty. At work.” House enunciated the last sentence with a raise of his eyebrows as Wilson embarrassedly glanced around, praying that nobody had heard.
“🎵Wilson’s got a girlfriend🎵” House sang. There was no way that he’d graduated sixth grade, let alone medical school.
“S-stop. Just stop.” Wilson protested, dragging House into a quieter section of the clinic where they wouldn’t be overheard.
“So, who’s the new Mrs. Wilson?” House asked grinning, ignoring how Wilson was turning a deep shade of crimson.
“It’s not! Its! Fine.” He gave up on trying to deny it, a loud sigh escaping him.
“I don’t even know if they like me back.” He turned to House sheepishly, hoping he would drop the teasing. House decided to take pity on his friend, instead asking,
“Well, who is she? I can be your wing-man.” Wilson thought there couldn’t be anyone worse for that job.
“No. I-“ Wilson let out a frustrated breath
“I’m not telling you. I can do this on my own.” He resolved. House couldn’t help himself from his next comment, it was right there,
“Like you did with your last relationship?” A delightfully indignant sound escaped Wilson. Christ it was easy to rile him.
“House!” Wilson checked over his shoulder to see if anyone had heard his yell. He tried again, forcing his voice level.
“House. Will you please just let me handle this?I may not have dated much since Bonnie, but I’m pretty sure I know how to ask someone to dinner.” House seemed to accept that, but he was still desperate to know the identity of Wilson’s “amour”.
“Come on, please?” He tried his best to replicate Wilson’s puppy dog eyes.
“At least give me a name.” He whined.
“No.” House groaned, what kind of best friend won’t even tell you who they’re interested in, Isn’t that like rule number one of best friends?
Wilson paused, an idea popping into his head.
“How about this. You have a week to figure it out, I’ll give you a hint, then you’ll stay distracted trying to find out who this ‘mysterious person’ is, and I might be able to actually do my job for once without you distracting me.” Wilson knew that by adding parameters, he could at least have some control over House. Hopefully enough to keep him out of his hair.
House turned away, quiet as he considered the offer.
“Fine.” He wasn’t thrilled to have to guess, but really, how hard could it be?
“Your hint: They work at this hospital. And, as you probably guessed, their favourite colour is green.” Wilson finishes.
Immediately the cogs in House’s brain started to spin as he started cataloguing the ppth staff along with Wilson’s taste in women. Someone needy but still self sufficient, The quiet girl in pediatrics (Jen?), The blonde in Oncology?
“Just one thing,” House interjected.
“A week is too easy, thirty says I’ll get before the day is done.” His eyes glinting the way they always did when he made a bet. Wilson deliberated a moment before answering,
“Alright, that sounds fair. And since you’re so confident,” Wilson looked up, a challenge in his gaze.
“Why don’t we make it fifty?”
House narrowed his eyes at Wilson, noting the sly smile on his face. He ultimately said nothing however, only putting his hand out as he met the oncologist’s eyes.
Wilson smirked, offering his own hand to shake.
Game on.
ංංං
10am
House meets Wilson in the hallway, eyes gleaming as he offers his first guesses.
“Hannah or Maria in oncology.” He doesn’t phrase it as a question, just states it.
“Nope. Neither.” An amused smile on his face as he answers.
House continues unfazed. Even he would surprised if his first guess was correct.
“It’s not Shelley in maternity, right?” That would be too easy, House has never seen her wear anything other than green. In fact, the only way he could remember her name was because it reminded him of a turtle.
“Definitely not.” Wilson was surprised House was guessing by name and not ‘That new girl who likes the low cut tops’.
They continue walking as House goes quiet, considering their coworkers. House stops abruptly, forcing Wilson to turn back to face him.
“It’s not Cuddy, right?” He asks suspiciously, a look of what might be genuine concern on his face.
“God no!” Wilson exclaimed before quickly looking around in the hope she hadn’t been close enough to overhear.
House just nods his head.
“Good.”
They continue towards Wilson’s office.
“What about that blonde girl at the front desk?” He asks after a couple moments.
“Catherine? No. Since you don’t even know her name, I guess I should assume you also don’t know she’s just gotten married.” Wilson rolls his eyes.
“When has that ever stopped people?” House asks, leaving Wilson’s own infidelity unspoken.
“Don’t you have a patient?” Wilson asks exasperated, finally reaching his office door.
House mumbled something and turned away, deigning not to answer.
“Good, because I have paperwork to catch up on.” With that he walked into his office, pointedly closing the door behind him.
ංංං
12pm |The Cafeteria|
That day House was uncharacteristically quiet, half focused on curing his patient, while also trying (and failing) to solve the case of “Wilson’s love”.
House was becoming less methodical(read: desperate) as he began to run out of women fitting the criteria. As it turns out, green is not a particular favoured colour among the Princeton staff. (House assumed it was due to the amount of human waste classified in the category of “green”)
“Brenda? Kate from radiology? Rachel?” House asked as he settled across from Wilson, trying to hide the growing desperation in his voice.
The oncologist looked up as House took his seat, an amused smile growing on his face.
“No, no, and really no. You do realize that Rachel is extremely gay.” He chuckled giving House an almost pitying look. Still, he had to give him props for finding out their names in the first place.
“Well, I’m just covering all my bases.” House was trying his best to stay composed, doing his best to keep his voice level and not betray his growing frustration.
But Wilson could tell House was starting to get to his wits end. There were only so many people that liked green, especially when narrowing it to half of ppth’s staff. (Especially, -in House’s case- the wrong half)
“By the way,” Wilson began, ignoring their previous topic as House looked up from where he was playing with Wilson’s fries (building a quite impressive fry cabin)
“A patient offered me his reservation for that fire show on sunday, but there’s been some complications with his chemo. Do you want to go with me?” He looked expectantly at House, he already knew what the answer would be, but asked all the same.
“Uhh, yeah.” House answered sarcastically,
“You had me at ‘fire’.” He grinned.
Wilson smiled warmly, these days he noticed himself smiling more and more with the other man. He just couldn’t help it.
Wilson’s smile faded, a wistful look on his face as he watched House abruptly stand and walk out of the cafeteria, House’s eyes glossing over as Wilson recognized his “eureka” face, a sign that he had just realized some important piece about his patient.
“I wonder if he even notices.” Wilson mumbled to himself, watching House hobble away.
ංංං
3pm
House had cornered practically every woman on staff, asking about their favourite colour of all things, much to their confusion. Cuddy had finally found House and warned him to leave the poor women alone on threat of doubling his already exorbitant amount of clinic hours. He had resigned himself to not-so-secretly shadowing Wilson as he memorized every woman he interacted with. Which worked fine until Wilson told him to go ‘do something productive’ (like his actual job) since he was starting to become a larger-than-usual nuisance.
“Elizabeth?” House flopped into the couch in Wilson’s office. He didn’t actually know of any Elizabeths and had resorted to coming up with names at random, hoping that would get him somewhere.
Wilson sat at his desk flipping through some old reports, ignoring House’s brusque interruption.
“Which one? There’re two, you know.” He didn’t bother to look up, smiling as he heard the hope in House’s voice thinking that he’d found the woman.
“Uhh… Oh! That pharmacy girl, she’s Lizzie or something right?” House was racking his brain to remember the others, hoping Wilson would just tell him which it was.
“Liza, and she’s still a med student, the only reason she’s there is because her father is the pharmaceutical head.” Wilson rubbed his hand through his hair as House just sat there, face unchanged.
“I’m over a decade older than her!” He let out an exasperated breath.
“I guess that makes sense.” He conceded.
Wilson just stared at House, waiting for him to ask about the other girl.
“Fine, I don’t actually know who the other one is, but it must be her right?” He was sitting up now, grinning as he waited for the oncologist to finally admit.
Wilson hummed, taking a minute to think before he answered,
“Ellie in cardiology. Single, my age, top of her class at Johns Hopkins.” Wilson paused considering it.
“Enjoys long walks and champagne, come on!” House finished impatiently.
“Her favourite colour is purple.” The oncologist grinned, enjoying how this was driving House mad.
House growled, not caring that Wilson could see how much this was getting to him.
“Then why did you ask which- fine whatever. I’ll figure out who this mystery woman is.” He stood up and began to hobble his way out, leaning heavily in his cane.
“Tick-tock.” Wilson teased, tapping on his watch. House just slammed the door in response.
ංංං
5pm
“I’ve come to collect.” Wilson sauntered into House’s office, a look of superiority on his face.
“Not yet. I still have time.” He was staring at his whiteboard, a mess of women’s names half erased and scratched over decorating the surface.
“Fine. Can I interest you in dinner then?” He figured that would at least keep House from ringing him at 11:59 to proclaim his genius along with the incorrect name.
House looked up in surprise,
“Aren’t you meant to be going out with your lady-love?” He asked teasing,
“Not tonight,” Wilson explained, unperturbed.
“We’re going out this weekend.” He explained. House narrowed his eyes,
“It better not interfere with our fire show.” He asked with an edge to his voice. It was all fine if Wilson wanted to spend time with his date, but if that started to affect his time with House? That was another issue.
“I can assure you it will not.” Wilson responded, the irony seeping into his voice serveing to only further confuse House.
House wiped down his board, clearing the black ink away before following Wilson out.
ංංං
7 pm
After coming to the unfortunate conclusion that on a Friday night any restaurant worth going would be completely packed for the next several hours, the two decided to order takeout from their usual place across the street from House’s apartment. It had arrived twenty minutes into their rewatching of The Hobbit, the delivery driver arriving the exact moment Ballin knocked at Bilbo’s door in some weird cinematic coincidence.
House grabbed the food while Wilson payed.
“She’s not any of the cleaning staff right? Or any of the lawyers?” House realized Wilson had never specified her job at the hospital.
“No. A doctor, whom you have met.” Wilson smiled as he saw House’s face contort.
“There’s no way! I’ve listed every single female doctor and nurse!” House began to protest before stopping, slowly turning up from his ginger beef.
“What’s the catch?” Another pause, this time uncertainty mixing with sarcasm,
“She’s still alive right?” Wilson didn’t dignify gat with an answer, just arching ine eyebrow at him in response.
“Fine. She isn’t a resident right? Because residents aren’t doctors.” He asked, clarifying.
“Nope” Wilson replied popping the p, very amused.
House stews. Somehow Wilson is allowed almost two hours of silence. The longest he’s ever been able to enjoy a movie in quiet.
ංංං
9pm
House turns to wilson, brows creasing as a new realization dawns on him. Wilson gets nervous as he starts to wonder if he’s has figured it out.
“I’m such a moron.” House gives Wilson a knowing look.
“It’s a guy!” He exclaims, no judgment in his tone, only dawning understanding. Still, it’s hard for Wilson to admit. He hesitates before answering.
“Yes.” He almost whispers. House gives him an odd confused look.
“I’m bi.” House says slowly. Wilson can’t help but stare, he had wondered about the man’s sexuality but never had the courage to ask.
“Didn’t you know?” House seems genuinely confused.
“I- I wondered.” Wilson isn’t sure how to answer. He hums for a moment before changing the subject.
“So it is a guy?”
“Yes, it’s… a guy.” Wilson thinks how wrong it feels to call him just *a guy*
“Then you have to give me another day.” House insists, uninterested in the revelation of Wilson’s preference.
“Oh come on! I wasted all my time thinking it was a girl!” He goes to continue but Wilson cuts off his rambling,
“You still have another three hours, and the more hints and time I give you, the less likely I am to win.” He’s finally able to change the subject.
“Fine.” House cedes, accepting the original terms.
The next three hours are filled with house desperately throwing out the name of every doctor he knows, at first any gay ones, then the mildly fruity ones, eventually going through the names alphabetically. Wilson eventually accepts that he won’t be able to watch anything tonight and turns off the tv as he begins to clean up supper, House trailing after him.
“Jared? Or Jason?” He throws out as Wilson begins to load the dishwasher.
“No! Neither of them. I already said, i’m not dating someone literally two decades younger than I am!” They were two of the newest hires, which House full well knew. Wilson shook his head tiredly, resigning himself to a long night.
ංංං
11:50pm
Wilson sat at the couch while House paced around the room, silent as he thought up as many names as possible before abruptly turning to Wilson with his new guesses.
“Y, y, y… Yusef? Yens? Yasper?” As the clocked ticked closer to midnight, House became but erratic with his guesses. Wilson was still stubbornly refusing to give more hints.
“First off, Yusef hasn’t worked at ppth for eight years, and ‘Jens’ and ‘Jesper’ are spelled with J’s and Jasper isn’t even a ‘y’ sound!”
“Oh come on, I’m running out names! Who the hell is it?”
“Nope. Not telling.” He checks the clock.
“Ten more minutes.” He taunts as House growls in frustration.
“Can’t you tell me what they look like? What their favourite football team is? Something- Anything!” House cried, he knew he must have named everyone in the Hospital at least twice now.
The next five minutes are filled with desperate pleading for any more hints interspersed with exceedingly random names. (The majority of which, House had already guessed)
“Garthly? Roberst? Frombert?” He knew that the chance of anyone having those names let alone also working at the hospital were minuscule, but at this point he’d exhausted all other options.
“House, making up new names isn’t actually going to get you anywhere.” Wilson chuckled, he really hadn’t expected this to go so well.
“I’ve gone through absolutely every single names there is!” House protested
“Well evidently not.” Wilson replies smugly. House glares at him.
“Eric, Allison, Robert.” He narrows his eyes at Wilson.
“God no House. I’m not crazy.” He gives House an unimpressed glance as he checks the clock again.
“Five minutes…”
House gasps suddenly, the idea occuring.
“Greg!” He half shouts, voice the same as when he realized it must be a man.
Wilson is glad his back is turned to him, unable to hide his shock as House guesses his own name.
“Wh-which Greg?” Wilson asks tentatively, hoping he wouldn’t be able to hear the hesitation in his voice. But House ignores him now, continuing with his new discovery.
“Of course! There’s gotta be another Greg in the building! I just never guessed becuase, well..” House throws his hands up in a vague gesture toward himself.
“You still have to tell me who they are.” Wilson forced his voice steady, still turned away.
“But I guessed his name! That was the bet!” House walks over to the couch, looking down at where Wilson sits.
“No, we bet that you wouldnt figure out who it is, not go through every single name one earth.” Wilson calmly explains, realizing House is still completely oblivious.
“Three minutes” He warns.
“Oncology? Radiology? ER or obstetrics?”
“No, no, no and very definitely not.” Wilson can’t help but laugh at the irony of House’s guesses. House dealing with pregnancy? Not even at gunpoint.
“Something in surgery?” House tries something broad.
“Ah yes, very specific. No.” Wilson enjoys his front row view of House turning odd shades as regrets having zero interest in human interaction at work. (Present parties excluded)
“Optometry? Neurology? One of the coroners?” House wasn’t even sure if they had an optometry department.
“Nope. One minute.” House becomes frantic, pacing around before sitting on the couch after his leg complains, only to stand again as he decides that sitting still is worse than his leg pain.
“Wilson please! Any hint!” He begs him.
“Thirty seconds.” Wilson watches his watch, raising his arm dramatically to show House the ticking seconds. House names every department he can think of. Eventually,
“Times up.” House freezes. Wilson smiles at him.
“Pay up.” He sticks out his hand in a ‘gimme’ gesture.
House looks around at the digital clocks, all of them saying 12:00, some even saying 12:01. He gives one final look around for anything that might clue him to Wilson’s beau. Nothing.
He glares, rummaging in his pocket before pulling out a crumpled 50. He slumps down on the couch next to Wilson.
“So?” House asks annoyed.
“So?” Wilson replies, feigning ignorance.
“So, who the hell is it?” House exclaims angrily.
Wilson pauses contemplating whether or not he actually wants to tell House.
“I never said I would tell you." He begins slowly. House opens his mouth to argue and Wilson cuts in before House gets the cops called for a noise complaint.
“House.” House was frozen as he took in the look on Wilson’s face, a look he’d seen so many times before, that easy fond exasperation, yet now House could swear there was something deeper. Loving? He shook the thought away as Wilson continued.
“He, now that we’ve established that it is a ‘he’, works at Princeton Plains Teaching Hospital as a Doctor. His favourite colour is green. His name is Greg.” Wilson looks at House, wondering if he might figure it out. House looks back at him blankly.
“Whose favourite colour is green?” House asks confused, what was he not getting? Wilson chuckles softly.
“Greg.” He says quietly.
“What?” House swears there was calculus that made more sense.
“Your favourite colour is green.” Wilson meets his eyes, hoping that would be enough for him to figure it out.
“Wh- what?” House’s face managed to look even more baffled at that. Finally he remembers how to speak,
“First off, no, my favourite colour is brown. Second, what does that have to-“ he cuts himself off. Realization finally dawning.
“Oh.”
“I- what do you mean your favourite colour isn’t green?” Wilson splutters. His entire bet was based on that one simple fact.
“Wilson.” House goes serious, ignoring Wilson’s question.
“Me?” He asks, Wilson can’t tell if he’s imaging the hope in House’s voice.
“Yes… I- I…” He trails off, looking down as shame and embarrassment shade his face a vibrant pink.
“James.” House cuts into his rambling, the way he says his name, so gentle in a way Wilson’s never heard from him, something in him breaks. He forces himself to turn back to House.
“I-“ Wilson is cut off as by House’s hand on his shirt, pulling him in as he pulls their lips together.
Time seems to stop as Wilson’s brain tries to memorize every piece of this moment. House’s lips on his own, the scratchy feel of his stubble on Wilson’s cheeks. His warm hands gripping his lapels, holding them together. The rough skin of House’s neck and spiky hair as Wilson moves his own hands up to grasp at House, kissing him back as his thoughts catch up.
Nothing else matters but the feel of their lips pressed together.
Wilson hopes this moment never ends.
Eventually they part, -much to Wilson’s dismay- breathing heavily.
“I love you.” Wilson blurts. Immediately cringing, he didn’t even know if House felt the same for Wilson. Something about how vulnerable he is in that moment, the two of them realizing their feelings were mutual all along is enough to convince House to respond.
“I- I love you too.” House admits quietly, cheeks burning as he looks away. If anyone found out he had said that, he’d probably move to Nunavut.
They sit there on the couch for a few moments, basking in their shared company, sweeter with the relief of admitting their hidden feelings and finding them mutual. House slides over to lay against Wilson’s chest, bad leg dangling off the edge onto the floor. Eventually Wilson forces himself to break the silence.
“I can’t believe I don’t know your favourite colour!” He starts,
“You told me the day we met, remember that bar had those awful green mint candies and you said ‘they managed to make you hate your favourite colour’” Wilson sighed, smiling ruefully.
“I guess I should have asked if you still liked green.” House twisted from lying on his chest to look up at him.
“I can’t believe you remember that.” He remarked. House of course remembered every moment of that day, but he hadn’t realized it might be as important to Wilson as it was to him.
“And, even then, my favourite colour wasn’t actually green…” House continued
“I didn’t have a favourite. I just said that because I could stop staring at the way they dyed your lips green.” House ducks away as he realizes what he’d said. Wilson doesn’t miss the flush on his face.
“So what is your favourite colour?” He asks, smiling at House’s embarrassment.
“Brown.” He replies immediately. Wilson can’t help his start of surprise.
“Brown? Seriously?” House twists to sit up, Wilson instantly missing his weight as House turns to face him.
“It’s the colour of your eyes.” He says simply.
Wilson loses all control in that moment. And what’s he supposed to do? Not kiss him? Wilson feels his body moving on automatic as he tumbles into House, a small puff coming from House, lips mashing together as Wilson falls into him, one hand pressing into his back as House’s fingers begin to explore Wilson’s hair.
House barely registers the jolt of protest from his leg as he allows Wilson to press him into the couch, kissing and touching and holding in ways he never dreamed he would be able to.
They end up falling asleep like that. Limbs tangled together as they snore softly on the couch. Wilson only has one thought as he drifts to sleep, House’s arms holding him close.
God he could used to this.