Uhm. This is awkward. Here's the last chapter to a fic I started three years ago...

10. Mexico by James Taylor



It had been almost two weeks since they had returned from their escape to Mexico. Despite what had been shared there- not just love, but passion- they still had not spoken of it to each other in the stark halls of the hospital or the gray-carpeted silence of home. They had not kissed, had not touched, had instead said nothing more than hello in the hallways and slept coldly on opposite sides of the bed.



It had been almost a month since they had returned from their escape to Mexico. They still had not spoken of it to each other, but they had reached the point where, preparing for bed, they would more often than not catch the burning desire in each other's eyes and end up wrapped around each other, one's belly pressed against the other's back, their sweat drying in the cold air drifting from an open window.



It had been two months to the day since they had returned from their escape to Mexico. House had just recently gotten his cast taken off, and he had been complaining loudly ever since about his sudden lack of a ready-made weapon. Wilson, who had been waiting as patiently as he could for the two months since they got back for House to say again that he loved him, had not been sleeping well and soon grew tired of House.

"Can you just shut up for one second?" he shouted finally as they sat in his office. He glared down at the file he was writing and gripped the pen fiercely to keep himself from trembling. He could see House's shocked expression in his peripheral vision but refused to make eye contact with the other man.

"What's the matter with you?" House asked, offended.

"What the hell happened to Mexico?" Wilson realized the words were coming out of his mouth before he could stop them.


"What the hell happened to 'I love you'? What the hell?" Wilson blinked back tears and began scribbling furiously again, ignoring House pointedly. There was silence for a long time, and Wilson had made up his mind to tell House he hadn't meant what he said when House suddenly spoke up.

"But I do love you."

Wilson looked up sharply, tears he had not quite been able to suppress rolling quietly down his cheeks. House had a perplexed look on his face prompting Wilson to ask rather more sharply than he intended, "What?"

"Well, I thought you knew that," House said, flinching a little at Wilson's word. "I told you I loved you."

Wilson sighed, shuddering slightly. "House, people need to hear it more than once in an entire relationship."

House was silent for a moment, then said, "Well, I love you."

Wilson smiled with a little difficulty. "I love you, too."

They were silent again as Wilson went back to his work and House retreated into his own mind. But that night, as he lay wrapped in House's arms, he felt House wriggle closer and put his lips to Wilson's ear.

"I love you," he whispered, and Wilson's heart jumped.

"I love you, too," he whispered back.