Hey everyone! So here it is, what I think will be my last Chapter of my first ever fan fiction! I had some ideas for continuing but i am unsure as i kinda think this is a nice way to end it. What I might do is write a companion piece to go along with it.Oh and thanks for you comments.They have been much appreciated!

The unspoken contract

House threw open his door and stumbled violently into the middle of the room. It was dark. He could have easily turned on the light but that's how he liked it. Because of this preference he had failed to notice the silhouette of a man sitting on his couch. It wasn't until he began walking to the kitchen that the man then acknowledged his presence in the room.

"Got anything in that brown paper bag for me?"

That voice was like sweet release for House. All the tension he had built up in the last couple of days seemed to slide from his shoulders and all his troubles melt away. Wilson was on his couch. He now felt everything would be okay.

Rather than say this and look all mushy (which really wasn't Gregory House's style), he decided on the same approach he always used. The one that made him comfortable. He would joke his way through it.

"Get your own damn comfort."

His voice was shaky but calm.

"Southern or regular?"

Wilson was one to be all mushy when it came to relationships but sometimes House's way had its advantages.

House just looked at the Oncologist, wondering when he had started to feel okay about this situation rapidly developing in front of them.

His thoughts were broken however, by further words of wisdom from his friend.

"Didn't your mom ever warn you about leaving your door unlocked?"

Gregory House was placing his cane against the wall of the townhouse, all the while trying to avoid direct eye contact with his friend. Yes he might love the man but it was still a strange situation to be in.

"Yeah she said any sleazy perverted man could get in."

Wilson laughed and said every so quietly, but not quiet enough for House not to hear,

"Or out."

With that he hobbled to the door and turned the key round locking them up for the night. He slid it from the door and where he put it Wilson could not see.

He then threw off his leather jacket, revealing one of his many retro t-shirts, and walked to the couch, leaning over so his breath was clawing at the shaking man's ear.

"We wouldn't want that would we? Looks like your trapped here for the night James."

With that he straightened himself and made his way into the kitchen.

Wilson sat motionless on the couch. He knew now he was doing the right thing. He knew this was what he wanted. He had Cameron to thank for that. Before she had barged into his office with that pale look on her face about the missing House, he was quite prepared to put that weekend behind him and forget what he said to House's parents, hoping it never was repeated again in conversation. He was prepared to be his brother and show him love like that, because he wasn't sure if the man really did love him or not. He still wasn't sure if he loved him like that. But now he was. When he left the room after Chase and Foreman's outbursts it wasn't because he was angry, it was because he felt sick. Sick that something could have happened to the man he loved and his fear and stubbornness would have been partly the cause.

He brushed his thoughts aside when he heard the voice in the kitchen speak to him again.

"That's not all my mother warned me about."

"Did she say beware Jewish people bearing gifts?"

He held up a tequila bottle which was quickly and clinically snatched from his raised hand.

"No, she said beware strange men who tell you your eyes are like sapphires."

He turned round giving a little smile as he leaned over his refrigerator. He felt like he hadn't eaten in years, and the last two days he didn't want to. Now he had his appetite back.

Wilson's face cleared like an early morning fog and finally it all made sense.

"So that's what I said to you when I borrowed your pills."

"The words you are looking for are stolen and got stoned."

"Well it could have been worse, I could have, oh I don't know, told your whole family we were gay?"

Armed with a sandwich the diagnostician sat down next to the oncologist in close proximity but not so intimately as to lose this train of thought they were on.

"Or you could have told my mother you were in love with me."

It was hard for Wilson to make this out since House had half a dead cow trapped in his mouth when he chose to say it but never the less he understood enough.

"You know about that ehhh?"

"Fraid so, and frankly Wilson I'm hurt that you would tell my mother you were in love with me before you ventured it in my direction."

House was trying to wind him up for his words in the bathroom two nights before.

Wilson had the perfect symmetrical answer for him.

"Oh I'm sure you'd have worked it out sooner or later Greg, with that brilliant mind of yours."

They sat there in silence for a moment, looking at the shadows from the cars passing outside glide across the wall to and fro. All that could be heard was the noises associated with minds ticking into overtime and sandwiches being devoured. House, always analytical and methodological was the first one to ask the important thing.

"The real question is, what are we gonna do about it?"

Wilson moved his mouth like he was about to speak but then stopped abruptly, deciding rather to stare at the wall some more. House realizing he wasn't getting an answer to that particular question, decided on another.

"And what the hell's given you such a change of heart."

"Excuse me?"

"Oh please, coming over here, lying in the dark on my couch waiting for me to come home, bringing alcohol in the vain attempt to seduce me. It's so prom night. And you'd hardly look at me in work this morning. Have you been at my vicodin again, I could have sworn I left it on the table?"

He made a motion to look for the bottle knowing full well it was in his jacket pocket.

Wilson, incredulously shot back his defense.

"Who said I came over here to seduce you, maybe I came here to drink did you ever think of that? But as yet my glass still seems to be empty."

"You don't have a glass."

"Neither I do, maybe if I close my eyes someone will get me one."

House gave a little glare, one that said I really love these little conversations we have, but As yet he still hadn't made eye contact, so only the wall was witness to such affection.




House slid by Wilson's leg, catching his thigh with his hand as he moved past. He felt the same sensation he did in the elevator on Friday and when his mother passed from one to the others arms the following day. But still no eye contact was made.

Wilson's heart began to beat faster. At some point one or both of them was going to crack, but how and when he had no clue. Why was this so damn hard! They had known one another a lifetime. They had been friends first. That was the problem. They were friends and a lot was riding on this and were it would go from that evening on. Plus there was the small minute detail that they were both men and had never had these feelings before in their life.

House was in the kitchen shakily looking through his cupboards. He drank almost every night so why, he thought, couldn't he find the damn scotch glasses! He had to calm down. He had to think. And due to unforeseen circumstances he had to now do it in relative sobriety. How do we initiate this? Should I make a move? He was getting sweaty palms over making a move on Wilson. How badly he wanted to drop to his knees and start laughing at that moment in time. How ridiculous did it sound? If someone had said that a year ago to him he would have prescribed them psychosis pills, now he wouldn't mind a couple himself. He realized he was taking too much time to get two glasses and so tried to stall a little bit longer.

"Do you want it on the rocks or neat?"

"As rocky as you can make it. Why is it so hot in here?"

House stuck his head round the door and saw that his friend had now removed his tie and rolled up his sleeves.

"I'd say it was moderate but if you wanna use that as your excuse to take your clothes off why end at the tie? Please don't let me stop you. Its not like I'm emotionally disturbed enough already without having to see that."

"It's not another one of my VAIN attempts I assure you, you know it's hot. Maybe if you turned your damn heating down I wouldn't need to perform a striptease in your living room."

"Yeah there's that and I'm all out of dollar bills."


House no longer had anything to keep him in the kitchen, and he still hadn't worked out how to handle the next step. Maybe he didn't have to. Maybe it would just handle itself.

"Screw it."

And with that he went back into the living room, sitting back down on the very spot he had vacated several minutes ago. Still Wilson hadn't moved. The only part of his anatomy showing any sign of life was his hand and in that he now clasped a newly poured ice cold drink. House decided they should make a toast, but what to? He would let Wilson decide.

"What should we drink to?"

Wilson pondered the question a few moments by swirling the liquid in his glass in a circular motion, letting it splash against the rocks violently and ravenously.

Eventually the perfect answer came to mind.

"Brotherly love. Or at least an end to it."

House breathed a sigh of relief. It would seem strange to anyone else looking in at this very unusual spectacle, that any doubt still remained as to what their feelings were, but for such cautious people (when it came to real love anyway), they each in themselves needed unquestioning proof. This was Gregory's.

"Sounds good."

And with that two glasses clinked together and the unspoken contract had been signed between them. A contract which would be honored and obeyed until death do them part… well almost. Wilson needed House's signature on the other side and he would get that with one final enquiry.

"I need to ask you a question."

"No you can't have the left side of the bed, that's were I sleep, don't like it then I'm afraid we're going to have to have words."

Wilson faced him and made eye contact for the first time that night.

"Why didn't you ask Cameron?"

As if seeing his eyes had somehow made the difference in this crazy world they were now living in, House gained real courage for the first time that night. Leaning in to the startled doctor, he brushed his disheveled hair back from his eyes. Wilson flinched a little at this but not in a negative way. If they were going to do this it would take some getting used to. It was new and it was unknown but it was wondrous and had infinite possibilities like the stars House had called out to, two nights before.

His voice came in barely a whisper.

I would love to say that he said something unoriginal like because I love you or because I need you more than her, but that just wasn't Gregory House and this wasn't an episode of General Hospital. And anyway, why waste you breath saying something that can already be felt. Instead he did as he had always done.

"Because she doesn't look half as good in a doctor's coat as you do Wilson."

And with that he kissed him passionately yet tentatively on the lips, sealing the deal for all eternity.