Chapter Text
CHAPTER ONE: A Camera..?
Wilson moseyed slowly into the antique store down Albert Street after a half hearted invitation from his best friend; hugging himself with one arm, he pushed the door of the 'Piebald Emporium' with his free hand and stepped inside. An aged, gold bell rang above the door signaling his arrival, and the sharp change from the bitter cold outside to a warm embrace from the shop's radiators had made Wilson almost gasp. Wilson felt the frost-nip radiate up his extremities but shook it off, he then equipped himself with his usual smile instead.
He glanced around the shop that House had introduced him to quite briefly. One look and one would think the name was very fitting - it was a small, cozy shop but it was filled to brim with items of all kinds and all purposes (or not-purposes of course). Every almost-viable space on each four walls was occupied by trinkets and nick-nacks. It was rather mismatched but together made a satisfying blend. James glanced around and admired the scrolls that hung from the walls in curious scripts and languages, and the vintage vinyl records that were snuggled up tightly in a wooden crate. He thought it was amazingly adorable. Another thing that stood out to him was the soft rugs under his feet that lined the whole store, and the scent of incense that wasn't too intrusive like that he noticed in those kinds of "hippie" stores he'd visit rarely for a laugh. Wilson understood why Gregory would like this shop, and with his' best friends name in mind he spun around to look at the few instruments tucked in the corner; of course House would be attracted to the expensive, "intellectual" stuff.
Except apparently now he wasn't. House had invited him over the phone to this specific shop, and Wilson thought he'd be buying a new instrument for their home, yet apparently not. Wilson wouldn't be surprised if House had just left because he had took too long coming here, or plainly House just changed his mind - of course he wouldn't tell him. But before jumping to conclusions, James decided to step deeper into the cramped store. Meandering around the tables filled with goods, he walked into the backroom of the shop that just had more items and the cashier's desk. Here, the smell had obviously changed and the scent of incense was now replaced by earthy coppers and gentle wood, and also a familiar old cologne.
"Ahh", House grumbled softly, wearing the same notable (to probably only Wilson) fragrance he had always wore, "There you are, Jimmy! You had me waiting so long I thought you'd rather hang out with those bald kids instead of tend to my needs." He grinned sarcastically, then straightened himself out after glancing in a display case.
"Hi, House. You really know how to make a man feel wanted, huh?" Wilson raised his eyebrows and reflected him with his usual wonky smile. "Anyways," he spoke up " Why did you want me here?"
Greg limped over to a glass case and tapped on the glass. "Look at this beauty, Wilson, and shockingly I don't mean my own reflection." He grinned and Wilson smiled.
"Do you know what this is, Jimmy?"
"Its uh… a camera…"
House gave Wilson a caustic look.
"Obviously, Sherlock. No, no I meant what stands out, its a Casio Exilim EX S1!" House ranted at Wilson but it was a jumble of words that went over his head. Wilson commented, "When did you like cameras? You're not sentimental! But of course you already know all about them huh?" Wilson chuckled, then examined the body of the thin camera. "I guess it has its charms as a collectors piece, but that's also not like you… Buy it if you want. Is this all you dragged me here for?" He sighed. House muttered "Haha… yeah."
Wilson almost found it endearing, but scolded himself for thinking that about his irritating best friend who wastes his precious time. He didn't reply, stuck in his thoughts.
Whilst Wilson wasn't paying attention, House hobbled over to the cashiers desk and leaned on his cane. Here, he purchased the camera and didn't ask for the price. He subconsciously wanted to impress the other man. Wilson didn't bat an eyelid. The brown-eyed man noticed House 'subtly' glancing over at him - Wilson had gotten used to his quirks after many years so he noticed House's attempts at secret glances. 'Was something wrong with my outfit? Or is it what im looking at?'. Wilson had walked over and looked at some taxidermy across the room so he figured it was that. The cashier behind the counter, an old but imposing older lady took House's money, put it into her antique register loudly, and bagged and boxed the camera for House. 'Wow, she walks faster than House', Wilson pondered to himself and laughed.
With the new camera in hand, House approached Wilson and tugged him by the arm to leave. House always importuned Wilson like this, and he always gave in. It was almost second nature, at this frequent rate.
Both of the men left the intriguing shop, and Wilson noted that it already felt a bit warmer. It was still coming down and the heaps of snow from earlier were still present. Nothing had actually changed. Snow crunched under their shoes as they walked. House was wearing his usual sneakers as always and Wilson smiled. 'So unprofessional, heh', he thought. 'Why—'
>SNAP<
As Wilson looked up, he noticed House decided to take a picture of him. He looked both surprised and bashful. "Huh?" Wilson alarmed, "what was that for? What even is the point of taking my picture?" House dodged the question and instead said "Gosh, such a drama queen. It makes sense really, one of many reasons all your wives left you."
Wilson turned away bitterly and stuffed his hands in his pocket. Why does House always find a way to bring that up?
"Awww, soh-reyy, Jimmy."
"But hey," he added on "You sure look cute smiling"
"Ugh." Wilson rolled his eyes. "Lets just get some coffee then go home."
House would have beamed, but he barely ever changed his expression. Instead he replied without any sarcasm, and that meant the world to Wilson, "That sounds perfect, if you're paying of course."
"As always," he smiled.
Wilson stretched. He had finished his paperwork last night so today he came in late to Princeton Plainsboro Teaching Hospital without House. To his own surprise, Wilson had blew through his paperwork with haste, and consultations with patients had gone quite peacefully besides from a few woeful ones. He was nagged by the usual urge to be needed: he stood up, grabbed his hot cup of coffee, and walked out of his office to Gregory's next door. A veracious smile sprouted on his face as he thought of House taking his coffee as usual. He aberrantly adored it.
Peering through the glass walls of House's office, Wilson observed the ducklings going wild. Like always, Foreman and Chase were arguing over something probably trivial —the whiteboard was empty — and Cameron was attempting to be the mediator. This was definitely something House started… as always! Wilson dragged a hand over his face to quell his fed up expression, breathed through his mouth, and entered the office. This was just like any other day.
"Well, he shouldn't be able to take my picture without my permission! Look at how bad I look!" The blonde yelped with his usual Australian accent that made House jeer.
"You're getting worked up over nothing, Chase…" Foreman retaliated. Dr Cameron joined in "It's not nothing, its rude to take someone's picture without their permission. Although," she giggled "You really are overreacting Chase, its adorable."
Chase opened his mouth but closed it as House spoke up mockingly and very interrupting-ly " Yeah, the prettiest doctor here pulling an ugly expression then getting worked up. Haha, adorbs.Wilson watched this scene unfold with his mouth slightly agape. It really was something, he watched whilst sipping his coffee until deciding to speak up. "What's going on?" The ducklings looked up thankfully at the voice of a true martyr and the only person who could stop House's shenanigans. "Oh, House. Is this about that stupid camera? Is this really why you bought it? To embarrass everyone with their distracted expressions?"
House strutted with a wobble slowly over to Wilson. He had one hand free, and a camera in the other.
"It was worth it. I have so many stupid photos, so many. And im never deleting them." He said gravelly then snatched the coffee out of Wilson's hand and drank the rest of it. Wilson's cheeks warmed up, 'Why does it always feel like this?' he wondered than waved it out of his imagination and snapped out of his reverie. He gazed back at House, and that was just like coffee for him. House aimed at the bin and chucked the coffee cup. Swish, like all the other hundred times he has done this. Practice makes perfect.
"House." Wilson scolded gently. This just onset House to pull up the camera and snap a photo of Wilson. Cameron and Foreman chuckled gently at this, although with a slight twinge of annoyance. Chase crossed his arms and sulked, "This is getting old… and hey, why does Wilson get a normal photo?". House rebutted sharply, "Way to look too much into things, Aussie." This was his usual sarcasm but it didn't seem as genuine this time. Wilson smiled gently at their cute interaction, and of course House couldn't resist taking another photo of Wilson. His gentle beam, his slightly flushed cheeks, and disheveled tie and unkempt hair with a few stray, frayed pieces. House appeared shocked at first, but then that expression vanished… House loved seeing Wilson after working tirelessly and so he admired the photo he just taken; Greg smiled. He genuinely smiled. The ducklings were all astonished but decided not to comment at all.
…
House's booming voice then interrupted the silence after he was done with the photo. "Alright children. Now that we have mummy to help us," he wagged his hand at Wilson. "Symptoms!" House blundered towards the whiteboard, still without his cane, as the ducklings plus 'Mum' began to list off the symptoms and possible differentials.
-
As the week leisurely dragged along, House kept taking photos of Wilson with the new camera.
Wilson found it funny at first, but then it stuck out like a highlighted passage when House started paying 'special photo attention' to him instead of his silly ducklings. Greg would take all kinds of photos of Wilson now: when he smiled, laughed, or even grouched or yelled at House. Any expression you could think of, really - Even secretly when Wilson was in a slumber. It was like a new alluring hobby to House. Him, the dedicated artist, Wilson the entrancing muse.
This was the most Wilson had ever saw House smile - this was quite queer. It made him overdrive.
The topic of House's new hobby was kept surprisingly, but it felt stagnant to Wilson. It was like every other week where Wilson had to get used to one of House's new quirks: stealing his coffee every morning, using his money to buy food, and now this camera thing. These flings usually dissipated. Wow, House's real quirk was skillfully crafting another way to annoy him! But it was okay, dare he say he liked it… Because, of course he didn't. Oh well. Wilson had considered confronting House about all of his hobbies, but he just never got around to it. It was the same this time habitually.
Today, his time was better spent at home nursing a beer. He decided to put on an oncology documentary and polish his memory. The home Wilson and House shared was very dear to him, the organ in the corner being a major testimonial to this and their lasting friendship.
-
Soft cascading light entered the room from the carefully drawn blinds and warmed up the atmosphere. Wilson decided to pull a fuzzy blanket over himself and lean back into the plush cushions. The day had gone by comfortably and he let out a relaxed breath. In front of himself, he lit some candles that flickered gently. The air smelled gossamery and clean. Wilson settled into his habitat for a few instants.
The front door creaked open, and House stepped inside slowly. Wilson was passed out on the couch with a beer bottle still in his hand. House got giddy at the sight of this; a snort almost escaped him but he clamped his hand over his mouth. He shouldn't wake the doctor - Greg plopped down onto the couch and pulled his bag on his lap, from it he unearthed an album that contained all the photos he had recently taken of his coworkers. Each one was really a guilty pleasure, and bought him a feeling he could barely admit to himself. He flicked through them as a pastime until his stomach grumbled. He threw the photo album on the coffee table in a distractedly autopilot. He walked off to the kitchen and started to prepare some food, it was really just some takeout from the day before he put into the oven. As he waited, he left the photo album vulnerable on the table, and waltzed of the toilet. The room was empty now, and Wilson was slowly stirred awake by how noisy House was. And then he spotted the photo album on the table...