BOYFRIEND…yeah, he'd thought a lot about that over his time in the hospital, how someone like him could be blessed with someone like Wilson, because he was, blessed, that is. Wilson stayed with him as he puked his guts up after chemo. He stayed during the small infections that ran him into the ground. He stayed when the pain got some much for him he felt like breaking his own hand again just to get the edge of it. But mostly, he stayed even when House was pushing him away as hard he possibly could. It made him doubt whether he was over with relationships or whether he was over relationships that just didn't involve Wilson.
"Your chariot awaits," Wilson said, appearing in the doorway with a wheelchair. When he'd first suggested it, House had told him to stick it somewhere, but after much persuading and the reminder that he'd been stuck in bed for close to a much with only in patient PT to stop his muscles from wasting away. Wilson told him that it would be a long time before he was walking distances on his cane and do just accept it and sit in the damn wheelchair.
House grinned at the memory of Wilson being firm with him and had to suppress a giggle at what they had planned for later on. Their very own form on PT.
"You know something?" he asked Wilson as he was helped into the wheelchair by his soon to be lover.
"What's that?" Wilson replied, being careful as he lifted House's right leg onto the foot supports.
"I think I love you."
Wilson gave his a funny look.
"What?" House asked, returning the look.
"I swear that surgeon took more than the tumour, you seem nicer."
"And that's a problem?" House asked, he was now face to face with Wilson who was tying the belt around his middle so that House couldn't possibly fall out from the ride to his room to the car.
"No," Wilson said, then after some thought added," it just takes a little getting used to." Then he closed the gap between them and kissed him.