Note: Wow I began this in October and put it aside. Finally decided to finish it. This was going to be a slash story, but I stuck with friendship, although there is a kiss, so if you don't like, don't read. Nothing graphic. It sucks I know, but please be nice since this is my first House and Wilson story. A one-shot (Though if it's liked somewhat, I could always write more) Enjoy and please review.
Disclaimer: Don't own House (wish I did)
Hearing his garbage can fall over and the sound of barking dogs wasn't the way Gregory House wanted to wake up. Cursing, he buried his face in his pillow and glanced through squinted, blurry eyes at his blinking clock on his night stand. It read 3:05 in the morning. Groaning, he cursed as he got up to his feet and there was a sudden pain as he fumbled, grabbing is cane.
His steps were more awkward as usual and Hector; Wilson's damn dog that Bonnie said they could no longer keep was sleeping soundly. Where the hell was his vicodin? That's when he noticed the dog had got his pill bottle and had proceeded to finish off his pills.
Wondering if the dog was still alive, he took his cane and pushed the dog lightly, it let out a grunt. Rolling his eyes in disgust, he heard pounding on his door. Whoever was out there was going to get a cane on their shin or some other part of their body. Going to the door, he jerked it open to find Wilson standing there.
His hair was ruffled and the collar of his shirt was far from neat. Indeed the top buttons were undone and there was a glossy, lost look to Wilson's eyes as he wordlessly walked in. House could even smell the liquor on Wilson's breath.
Wilson who was usually impeccable and spent hours to look presentable was slopping drunk. House stared at him quizzically.
"What the hell are you doing roaming my streets and barging into my house at 3:00 in the morning?"
"'Ello to ya too buddy," Wilson mumbled, falling onto the couch.
Sighing, House shut the door before looking out one last time and went to the couch, sitting beside Wilson.
"Your damn dog ate all my vicodin," House muttered, wondering what Wilson was up to and why the hell he was so drunk. But he didn't ask, just searched his face with piercing blue eyes.
"Bonnie," mumbled Wilson. "Got rid of 'Ector then got rid of me... She had an affair with our neighbor."
House could hear the tremor in Wilson's voice and was rattled. Would Wilson really cry? But the younger man didn't. His throat merely worked and he sighed, closing his eyes.
"I shoulda known that it couldn't work. The only… only things that work are you and I. That stupid, screwed up friendship that's always there. Bonnie accused me of lovin' you more then her. Maybe I do, I don't know."
House rolled his eyes. "Oh, yes Jimmy I am first in your heart and you love me more than your wife."
Wilson's eyes met his hazily. "I do love you, Greg. I always keep comin' back to ya. You're an ass, but I always come back to you even… Now I'm filing for divorce and will loose the house. God, I need a place to stay."
Peering into Wilson's face, House sighed. There was a defeated, hurt look to his friend's face like a child that had been devastated. There was no way he was letting James go back outside, the man was too trusting for his own good. No doubt he would get abducted or hurt where he wouldn't be able to protect him. Had House been in a laughing mood, he would have found this change in the tables hilarious. He was the one who lost control, not James.
"Just stay here," House muttered. "But I get the bed and you get to stay out here with Hector."
"Thanks Greg," Wilson whispered, getting unsteadily to his feet, he nearly fell, but caught himself. Staggering, Wilson looked pathetic and very vulnerable. House watched him go to the bathroom and disappear, the door shutting behind him.
Raking a hand through his hair, he heard a clatter in the bathroom and he wondered why Wilson had done now. Limping to the bathroom, he tapped on the door with his cane.
"What are you doing?" he demanded. "Blow drying your hair?"
"I just wanna be alone," the muffled voice came through the door. There was evident tears and emotion in Jimmy's voice.
Shit. Sighing, he couldn't put up with this. Trying the door handle, it turned and he stepped into the bathroom. The sight hat met his eyes startled him. Wilson's red-rimmed brown eyes stared up at him incredulously. He was sitting on the closed toilet seat and his face was wet with earlier tears.
"I locked the door," he slurred.
"I tried," Wilson whispered. "I am a failure as a doctor and husband. Why can't anything I do work? Wilson's perfect, knows how to save House, blah blah. Knows how to tell people they are dying. I hate people sayin' I'm perfect. I'm not perfect, not perfect."
House scoffed. "You're as perfect as they get except for Cameron. A failure as a husband, yes, but not a doctor. People pay you to tell them they're dying. You're wonder boy oncologist, Jimmy. Better that you're liked than a misanthropic bastard like me. Now wipes your tears and go back to bed. You're going to have an hell of an hangover in the morning."
"No," Wilson muttered. "You're a genius, House. An ass yes, but people look up to you even when they hate you. People walk all over me and think I'm too good. I'm saint Jimmy. Can't even keep a relationship going…"
House screwed up his face. "Ah, come on. You know people need you."
Brown eyes met his. "Do you need me, House? I mean… really need me in your life or do you just like the free meals and the money I loan you?"
"It helps," he said. "Come on, Jimmy. You know we're friends."
"No," he said with an odd look. "I don't… You've never treated me like a friend, but you let me stay around…"
House sighed. "Go to bed… now." He limped away, leaving Wilson alone to retreat to the couch.
From his bed, minutes later, House could hear Wilson still hadn't went to sleep, but was moving around in the living room with sighs. He was even pacing and House buried his head irritably in the pillow. Sighing, House finally threw his pillow down.
Getting up to his feet with a grimace, he jerked open his door and went out to the living room. The sight that met his eyes left him momentary speechless. The usual clean and perfect Wilson had his shirt unbuttoned so that his chest was showing, with only his boxers on and his hair was ruffled. He spent hours on his hair.
"Can't sleep," Wilson murmured, heading bowing in defeat. "Sit with me Greg, for a bit."
Rolling his eyes, House limped forward and sat on the couch. "Want me to hold your hand too as you fall asleep, because I won't."
Hector thought this was an invitation to join House for he jumped on the couch and laid his head on House's lap, looking at him with doleful eyes. Sighing in disgust at the dog, House turned his attention at Wilson as he stumbled over towards him, nearly tripping, but managing to land beside him, his whole body lodged against House's so that House was pressed against the couch. No escape. Wilson's body was startling close, brown eyes close to his.
This was weird, but House felt it strangely comforting to have Wilson's body heat near his. It had been a long time since he had anyone this close except for a hooker. Though he would rather die then admit it, he enjoyed being close to Wilson. When Wilson's head began to loll on his shoulder and he felt nuzzling, House's eyes shot over to the head resting on his shoulder, the brown hair at his nose. He smelt of shampoo.
"What are you doing?" House gruffly asked.
"Getting' comfy," Wilson murmured with a breath. "Your comfortable House. Never knew such a smart ass could feel nice."
Hector nudged his hand to get his attention. House roughly pushed the dog away and it fell off the couch, scurrying away. Wilson looked up at House, a goofy smile on his face. For the thousandth time, House rolled his eyes.
"You and that damn dog are too much alike," he grumbled. "You choose the wrong people to seek attention from."
"Oh Greg, you're amazing. Amazing. If only I could be more like you. Have I told you that you're amazing? And I-love you, Greg. Wouldn't trade you for a thousand Bonnie's."
"You're better than Hector," House allowed grudgingly. "I give you that much. You were just attracted to my cane and neediness."
James laughed as if House had said the funniest thing to ever cross his lips. "Oh! That's good, House! You are good." He quieted down, as his hand began to play with the hem of House's t-shirt sleeve. Then, "You know what I've always wondered?"
"What'd it be like to kiss you."
House froze. James was wasted if he said that. He had to be. What the hell? He settled for a snide reply:
"Ask Stacey, or hell Cuddy, she let me kiss her all over during college. I'm a great kisser though. Women are turned on by the stubble and chapped lips, you know."
"Can I…" He trailed off and House watched with amused eyes as Wilson blushed.
"Can you what?" he irritably asked, though he wasn't that irritated.
"Can I kiss you?" Wilson finished in a breath. "Just once. I-I'm not gay or anythin' just curious."
House's eyes gleamed with amusement. "And that Dr. Wilson is called bi-curious." He sighed. "Will you go to sleep then?"
Wilson nodded and House sighed. What on earth was he thinking? He was going to kiss a man. Sure he had experimented in college with circle jerks and such, but this was Jimmy. James Wilson. His best friend, hell his only friend.
Scooting forward, House turned. "Okay let's get it over with. But just so you know, you are the chick."
Wilson's eyes fluttered closed as House leaned forward. Taking a breath, his lips met Wilson's. They were surprisingly soft. At first Wilson did not respond because his reaction took longer. Before his lips tentatively began to move against House's and his lips even parted invitingly. Hands timidly going to cup House's cheek, Wilson leaned back and House followed.
For the affect, House took advantage of James' open lips, their tongues dueling. House was demanding now and was kissing in a way that left women breathless, hard and demanding. James returned the kiss to the best of his ability and when House pulled away, breathing hard, he found James staring back at him in wonder, lips swollen.
"Well," House said cheerfully, with a labored breath. "Now that we got that out of the way…" He rose to his feet and found his cane as if noting had happened and began to limp away. "Good night, Wilson and don't go in the damn bathroom again."
Once House reached his room, he fell on his bed with a sigh and curse. Damn it, James had pushed him off balance and had made him oddly turned on. He would never admit it though. Tomorrow would go on as everyday had. James would have a splitting headache and he would harass him then during lunch he'd steal his food. Maybe even have a repeat of a few minutes before to shock Cuddy, making sure the blinds were open of course. Smiling, he couldn't wait to remind Wilson tomorrow that just maybe James Wilson was not so straight after all.