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Wilson decides to adopt a puppy.
He's a middle-aged divorcee without kids who's gone through a few too many midlife crises. He shares an apartment with his best friend, for Christ's sake. He's beginning to think he's never going to have a conventional "wife and children" kind of life. He's beginning to think he's okay with that.
Still, the condo gets lonely sometimes when House is out doing shenanigans Wilson will pretend he doesn't want to hear about when he gets home, and one of Wilson's younger patients just received a puppy as a gift from her parents to cheer her up. Now he's got puppies on his mind and he can't stop thinking about how cute it would be to have one of his own.
As a chronic people pleaser who believes his sole purpose of living is to fulfil others' needs, he originally had his heart on adopting a rescue dog, but many of them were frightened, traumatised things, and he didn't want to risk House accidentally going too far for a prank one day and getting the dog all worked up. Puppies, however, could easily adapt to life with him and House (on a good day), and once Wilson's set his mind on it, he can't tear himself away. Besides, he knows House would fake being grumpy when the puppies got all excited to see him as well as Wilson. He loves watching House fight a smile. Especially after Mayfield. House deserves a little extra happiness around the home - their home - too.
"You can't be serious," is House's reply when Wilson proposes his plan over dinner one night. The documentary they're watching on TV features dogs and...well, perfect timing, right?
"Of course I am," Wilson says, knowing to anticipate some resistance from House. "Come on, it'll be fun."
House glares. "I've already got you making puppy dog eyes at me all the time, I don't need another thing doing that."
Wilson pouts. It unfortunately confirms House's point.
"It'll just be mine, then," Wilson pleads, like he really needs House to be on board with this for it to work. "But you can't be mean to it."
"You're walking it and cleaning up its shit," House says like he's won the argument, but really he's just conceded to Wilson bringing a pet into their home.
Perhaps getting a pet together in the apartment they share would feel too much like commitment, anyway. House was only supposed to be crashing at Wilson's place temporarily but now Wilson's bought the condo, it feels more like living together than staying at a friend's. As the weeks stretch into months, they're becoming more and more domestic, cooking together, going to bed at the same time, basing their entire routine around each other. And House knows exactly what Wilson looks like when he's just showered, with his wet hair all messed up, and Wilson knows which side of the bed House sleeps on, even though they have separate rooms, and the list of little idiosyncrasies left to discover about each other is growing shorter by the day as all the domestic ones are being ticked off too now.
Perhaps something to separate them would be good. Push down the invisible disease infecting his heart.
The problem is, however, that Wilson ends up getting not one but two puppies.
"Did you forget how to count?" House asks, equal parts sarcasm and shock, as Wilson bounds through the door with two excited puppies pulling on their leashes.
Wilson grins giddily, all but literally beaming with joy. "Aren't they cute?"
"Plural," House sighs, rubbing his head. "Wilson, why have you got two puppies? To keep each other company when you're not here? To fulfil some kind of yin and yang?"
Wilson, without realising, gives House his puppy dog eyes. "I only planned to get one, but the guy showed me them both-"
"And you just couldn't resist?"
"-and said to pick one. And this one-" he points at the blond dog (a Labrador, maybe?)- "was jumping up, all eager to see me, right? And I was like huh, the dog chooses you, that sort of thing. But then I looked at the other one-" he indicates the darker one- "-sat in the corner alone, looking all sorry for himself, and I couldn't just leave him there, where no one would pick him. So, uhh. Well, I couldn't choose. So I got both."
He's smiling again, softer, unguarded, and he unclips them both from their leashes. Immediately they race over to House and jump onto him, climbing and licking, unaware that they're at dangerous risk of being mauled by this particular animal.
Wilson just laughs as House scowls. "I think they like you."
"No," House argues desperately, "they do not. And don't think this means I'm gonna help, just because you got an extra one."
Wilson tilts his head to the side and one of the puppies copies. Oh lord.
"This isn't gonna be a I have one, you have one situation. It's not gonna be that I'm one's favorite and you're the other's. We're not sharing."
"I told you, they're mine," Wilson huffs, but there's a glint in his eye that tells House he doesn't believe him. "I paid for them and all their stuff - seriously, you don't want to know how much all of this cost. I'll look after them, it's fine."
But it's not fine, because that night, House finds Wilson asleep in bed with both puppies curled up beside him, as if it were some kind of warm nest. It's such a soft scene, so insufferably tender, that House's instincts tell him to reject it, to attack, to not give in to the part of his brain telling him how cute this is.
"They're gonna piss on your bed when they wake up," House says, but Wilson is fast asleep, his snores just quiet enough not to wake the puppies.
House sighs and climbs into the other side of the bed, with the puppies laying between them. In the morning, he'll say he was just trying to teach them to piss on Wilson, or to respond to grotesque names, but really he just wants to be close to the one he loves, sickeningly sweet puppies included.