Disclaimer: don't own anything
Authors note: just a little drabble that I managed to get out of my head and into words, I'm glad I finally managed to finish this one since Ive been working on it for a while, although, it's my first time writing for this fandom and I do hope that you all like the way I wrote the characters and stuff.
Hearing the news had been something that House never thought he'd hear. In all the time that he'd been working as a doctor, he had seen people die and some even miraculously recover from a certain disease. But never had he expected he'd hear the news that one of his employees had shot himself when he woke up that morning. He had felt there was something wrong the moment he woke up, call it intuition, but his gut told him that there was something that he had missed and it had followed him up until that moment where he found Thirteen and Foreman walking in his office covered in Kutner's blood and giving them the news. He had gone downstairs immediately to see for himself and ended up staring at the body with glazed eyes, wondering what could've gone wrong and what he could've missed.
Could he have prevented this? Was it his fault, or who's fault was it really? What had caused it and most important of all, how come nobody picked it up.
Going through Kutner's stuff had never felt so wrong, yes, he had gone through a lot of the stuff of his team just to figure out little things to blackmail them or just to tease them but n ever had he thought he would search their things in the hopes to find an answer to the apparent suicide of one of their friends, colleagues. He looked through the next drawer, trying to find something that he had missed, that the police had missed but again, nothing but clothing. He sighed and sat down on the couch that still had some magazines littered all over it. Girl magazines (House didn't even want to know), film magazines, TV guide; House didn't really care as he sat on them and buried his head in his hands.
Wilson had been smart enough to leave him with his thoughts for the remainder of this period, even though he admitted that he could use his friend's hand on his shoulder now, his fingers running through his hair as House finally was allowed to show his weaker side to the man. He and Wilson's bond was truly something extraordinary and everyone admitted it, but even now, when House seemed to need him the most, he wasn't there. Just like Kutner wasn't going to be there anymore to crack a joke or two during the differentials.
House sighed and looked up, his eyes scanning the empty and silent apartment, he felt like an intruder and for a moment there, he hoped that he would see Kutner walk in, coming home from work and look at him with those ever glittering eyes full of curiosity. Wincing as he stood up; House rested one of his hands on his sore leg and then walked back to the bedroom of the apartment. Even though he had been there for a few times already and never found anything, he had this feeling inside of him that he was missing something.
The blood had dried on the floor and left a nasty mark on the wood, the bloody blankets that Thirteen had used when she found him bleeding were laying discarded in the corner of the room and House couldn't help but stare at the blood, feeling a weird sensation. He had been shot too, albeit not in the temple and he hadn't done it himself, but he knew how it was like to get a bullet in your body, feeling your body shut down as it tried it's best to stop the bleeding the wound caused.
He couldn't help but touch his own bullet wound that was now a distant scar and memory as he looked at the blood. Biting his lip and shaking his head, House shook the thoughts about his own wound out of his head and focused back on the fact that he was standing in a puddle of dried blood that used to belong to one of his employees.
"You idiot," House muttered as he glared at one of the pictures of Kutner himself that hung on the wall, "you could've at least given me your secret stash of porn."
"I think he tried to spare you of that House."
"This doesn't concern you Wilson," House growled as he turned around and faced his friend.
"It concerns you," Wilson said as he placed a hand on House's shoulder and made eye contact with those baby blue eyes of his friend.
House snorted and walked out of the apartment, not really thinking of where he was going as long as it was away from Wilson who would no doubt lecture him or try to figure him out. He clenched his teeth together and walked in the elevator. But once again, like so many times it happened at the hospital, Wilson managed to stop the doors from closing and jumped in just in time.
"You can't run."
"Doesn't take a genius to figure that out," House muttered as he refused to look at Wilson. Earlier he really wanted his friend to be there, but now, he regretted ever wishing for it.
"You're hurt, you're confused, I get that."
Growling, House pressed the emergency button of the elevator, making it come to a halt somewhere between two floors. Wilson stumbled over his own feet for a second or two before he regained his posture and frowned at House who was glaring at the floor with his lips pursed together.
Wilson sighed sadly and placed his hand on the man's shoulder again, it didn't matter to him if House was a cold bastard to the outside world, this man was going through something that he refused to show to anybody but him and Wilson was going to be there for him every step of the way even if the man simply pushed him away.
The man turned his head ever so slightly, but just enough for Wilson to get closer and caress the man's cheek with his thumb. House still refused to look his friend in the eye but Wilson didn't need eye contact to know that the man needed the touching right now, the comfort to know that he wasn't alone.
"You're allowed to be sad about this-"
His words fell silent as warm lips touched his, their tenderness effectively easing him to relax if ever so slightly. Closing his eyes, he leaned forward, searching for more contact from the one person he would ever openly call his closest and dearest friend. Tracing a hand lightly up and down the other's back, he took command of the kiss, pulling the older and taller man closer to him.
House never really dawdled on memories, since most of his were traumatizing or depressing, but it were moments like these that kept him sane and in control during the day and allowed him to rest peacefully at night. Holding Wilson, he felt safe as well as protective of the boy oncologist.
Once sure that the man in his arms was efficiently relaxed, Wilson pulled away, eyes slightly darkened and a light flush on his cheeks.
Many would have viewed what had just happened as a moment between two lovers. They would have been way off. There was a sacred place between friendship and love and he and House had been lucky enough to find it. This kiss was just one of the hundred they had shared during their lives.
Bringing his hand back up to House's cheek and caressing it with his thumb, he whispered softly to the older man, "You have to sleep, House."
"For about half an hour this morning. I mean some serious sleep."
They made eye contact for a few seconds before House nodded and let the elevator start its way down again. He smirked a bit and drew his body away from Wilson's just before the elevator doors opened at the ground floor.
"Tell the sacred witch of the institute that I'm catching up with my tremendous amount of unseen porn at home."
"Will do," Wilson nodded with a grin as they parted ways.