Title: Truth or Dare

Summary: House and Wilson are bored and play a little game of Truth or Dare.

Pairing: House/Wilson

Rating: PG-13 for spot of language and slash

Note: Another something I wrote last month. Sure was a hoot to write!

Enjoy :D

"Truth or Dare?"

"That game sucks with only two people."

"Either this or spin the beer bottle."

"Truth or Dare it is then," Wilson reluctantly agrees.

"I asked you first."

"Fine. Truth."

"Why did you choose to become a doctor?"

"My father gave me no choice. T or D?"


Wilson ponders a moment. "Go out into the hallway and sing one of your classic songs, your choice, at the top of your lungs."

House winces. "I think Miss Applegate two doors down has a gun." He stands up anyway, and limps out the front door.

Wilson hears him clear this throat, then burst into song. He makes a mental note not to issue a similar dare: House seems to be having way too much fun.

"Truth or Dare?" Wilson is asked when House smugly returns, plopping himself back down on the floor next to Wilson, their backs both resting on the bottom of the couch.



"Yep." He takes a sip of orange juice and waits.

"Why me?"

Wilson blinks. "Why you what?"

"For a friend."

"Ah." Wilson ponders.

"Geeze, take your time."

Wilson shrugs helplessly, trying to put his thoughts into words. "Because…because there is no one else I can see myself doing this with," he gestures between them, "male or female. People say I put up with you remarkably well, but I think it is just the opposite."

"Going to make me cry," House deadpans.

"Truth or Dare?"


"Okay. Same question. Why me?"

House smirks. "Why not?"

"You call that an answer?"


"Too bad. I reject it."

"You can't reject answers," House scoffs.

"Says so in rule 23 of the official Truth or Dare handbook."


"So pick another answer."

"Want me to sing your praises, too?"

"No. Just want to know the answer."

"Ever think that maybe there isn't one? You are my only friend after everyone else had left me. I didn't want Stacy to leave. Or Kirt. But they left me anyway. I tried to get you to leave me the Hell alone. But you wouldn't."

"Why did you want me to leave?" Wilson asks softly.

"Save me the pain of trying my best to keep you around. Would hurt less to shove you away than try unsuccessfully to keep you around."


"No," House interrupts. "You've had two questions. Because of Rule Number 33, you have to skip a turn."

"You've never read the handbook."

"Neither have you. Now, Truth or Dare?"

"I have a feeling I will regret this, but Dare."

"Kiss me."

Wilson, who had just taken another sip of his orange juice, starts coughing like he is going to die.

"Do you want me to repeat the Dare?"

Wilson holds up a hand and shakes his head, still coughing. "What cough are the terms of this kiss?" He clears his throat of the remaining cough.

"For one minute."

Wilson raises his eyebrows. "Tongue?"

"Of course."

He wrinkles his nose. "I can leave right now, you know."

"But you won't."

"Confident, aren't you?"

"If you leave, I win."

"I can live with that."

"Does that mean I win, then?" He laughs.

Wilson frowns and worries his lip.

"Do I?" House seems too happy.

Wilson looks up and meets House's eyes. "I hate to lose." He looks down at his watch, ignoring House's shocked look, and pushes a few buttons. Then he leans sideways, towards House. He pauses, lips less than an inch from their destination. To House's credit, the older man doesn't pull away.

The kiss is gentle at first, two pairs of lips ghosting against each other. Wilson leans closer, bringing up his hands to rest on House's shoulders to keep himself from loosing his balance, and plants his lips more firmly against the other man's. Their lips part at the same instant and Wilson runs his tongue lightly against House's, then back over his teeth.

What the fuck am I doing? Wilson frantically thinks as his hand moves to House's cheek, thumb brushing against the stubble. He feels a hand against the back of his head, trying to pull him in closer.

The watch beeps in their ears, it's sound shrilly bringing them back to the here and now.

House is the first to move, bringing his hand away from Wilson's hair.

Wilson leans back, ignoring the red lips, and turns, sitting with his back against the bottom of the couch. He can't seem to find his breath and his hands are shaking.

House looks at Wilson with concern. He wants to speak, but his best friend has seemed to have captured his voice. He swallows. Never in a hundred years had he thought Wilson would answer the dare! He reaches over and rests his hand over Wilson's, causing the other man to finally look over at him.

The oncologist takes a breath, about to speak.

"Apologize and I will kill you."

Wilson closes his mouth. "I think I should leave," he finally says. He makes no move to get up, but feels the larger hand curl around his.

"Please don't."

"Give me a reason to stay."

"Because I think that Spin the Bottle would be much more fun to play now."

Wilson's eyes water as he looks over at House. "What?"

House quickly removes his hand. "Or you can go if you want to." House quickly stands, ignoring the pain from not being careful, and goes into the kitchen. He wonders just how much he fucked up his relationship with his only friend. He doesn't hear a sound, door slamming, or otherwise. He holds his breath and slowly turns around.

Wilson stops rubbing his neck when House turns to face him. "I don't want to leave," he says softly, treading out on thin ice, hoping that his weight will be supported. He cautiously walks forward, watching and listening for any sights or sounds of breaking ice. He stops advancing when he can feel hot breath on his face. He doesn't blink as he stands looking into the bright blue eyes.

"Take me, I'm yours." House's voice is so quiet that Wilson almost misses the words. When he looks down at the lips, he finds them quirked upwards in a soft smile. He smiles back.