The world of House does not belong to me. *Sobs dramatically into laptop*

And for those of you who haven't guessed; this is slash, just the way we like it :D

For Jennie Wilson – you are very welcome to babysit my plot bunny any time you like, though I'll warn you, he's pretty naughty :P

Wilson just stared at Cuddy, open mouthed and dumbstruck.

"I do not!"

"You follow him around all the time, you buy him dinner, you worry about him – he's the first person you call in the morning and the last person you check on at night. You have a crush."

"I do not!" Wilson repeated, fighting the urge to stamp his foot.

Cuddy looked up from her desk at the oncologist and put down her pen.

"Let me get this straight; you come in here raging, wanting my advice, because House is driving you up the wall and you can't do your work. So I tell you exactly what you already know, and you are still denying it?"

"But House is a guy!"

"Your point?"

"I'm a guy. A guy guy, not a guys guy – not that there's anything wrong with guys who are, they can be all they want, but I'm not one of them. I'm a guy's girl, I, I mean a girl's guy." He stood flustered, his hands on his hips. "I know what I am talking about!"

Cuddy just looked at him, and Wilson collapsed into a chair.

"How could I not notice this? Fifteen years I've known him and WHAM! Now I have a crush on him." He buried his head in his hands.

"What the hell do I do?"

"You decide whether you want it enough to worth risking your friendship over, and if not then maybe you never really wanted him in the first place."

Thoughtfully, Wilson trudged out of the office, and Cuddy returned to her paper work, shaking her head at the utter stupidity of it all.

What Wilson hadn't bargained on, when leaving the office, was walking right into House.

"Hey! Cripple here!" House yelled, "Are there really doctors in this hospital denying cripples right of way!"

"No, just those that happen to also be jerks." Returned Wilson, heading for the elevator.

"So" House said, joining him, "What did you do to get sent to the headmistress?"

"I copied notes off of my desk partner and looked up the librarian's skirt."

"Ahhh, good times" Reminisced House, rushing his limp a little to catch up with the other doctor who had already left the lift and was heading for his office.

"No, really. What did she want?"

"Have a good day, House" Wilson answered, and shut the door in the diagnostician's face, turning the lock on the other side and collapsing to the floor. He listened to the three step sound of House going back along the corridor.

Wilson pressed his hand to the bridge of his nose and then swept in through his hair.

Of course he had a crush on House. It was all so obvious now he thought about it. He made him dinners, he cared and worried about him far past reason, for anyone who knew House even remotely knew that having emotions in any way was pointless.

And yes, Cuddy was right; House was the first person he thought of night and morning. Sometimes thinking of those blue eyes and rather sexy smirk were all he needed to get himself to sleep.

Oh. God. When had he started to think of House's smirk as sexy?

And then there was the stubble – the I'm far too hot to bother to shave stubble. And the smell; the smell of beer and pizza and too many Vicodin - the undeniable smell of House.

Scratch that, the undeniable smell of Happy.

Wilson shrugged his jacket off his back and flung it forward onto the couch; he was getting far too hot. He loosened his tie. The tie House had bought him. The tie House pretended he really didn't like, but they both knew he did.

Damn tie.

He threw it over to join the jacket.

Then he closed his eyes and started banging his head back against the door.


Knock, knock, knock.


Knock, knock, knock.

Wait...that knocking wasn't him. He opened his eyes. House was standing at the door to the balcony, tapping the glass with the end of his cane.

Knock, knock, knock.

From his seat on the floor, Wilson thought House looked very tall, very endearing; very – dare he say it? – handsome. Wilson tried to shake the thought out of his head.

"What the hell are you doing?" Bellowed House. "Firstly you try to knock your brains out, now you're trying to shake them away? This hospital does have trained neurosurgeons you know?"

Wilson pulled himself up from the floor and opened the door. House stumbled in and onto the sofa, squishing the jacket and tie.

Oh shit, he's on my jacket. My jacket will smell of house. My House – I mean – my jacket.

Wilson attempted to stand nonchalantly against the desk, trying to look like nothing was bothering him. Trying not to look at House.

"Ok, what did I do?" House began to ask, then changed his mind, "No don't tell me, it's 'cause I rang you at three this morning wasn't it? Or because I nicked your club sandwich out of the staffroom fridge yesterday? Or I annoyed some nurse you have your eye on as Mrs Wilson number Four or...oh my god! It's Cuddy! You went in there to propose to Cuddy! And she turned you down and now your poor little heart is breaking and...Why aren't you interrupting me?"

"Huh?" Wilson asked, drawing himself from his day dream where he had the older doctor pinned down on the sofa and was madly fucking his mouth with his tongue.

"Cuddy. I was talking about Cuddy." House glanced down at Wilson.

"You do know you're aroused, right?" He asked, pointing his cane at Wilson's crotch. The oncologist batted it away.

"Cuddy." House repeated, getting to his feet. Involuntarily, Wilson's cock twitched.

House raised his eyebrows and took another step forward. "Cu-ddy" He repeated, slowly.

Wilson was very aware that he was barely two feet from House.

Cancer patients, little bald kids dying, diarrhoea for Christ's sake! No it wasn't working, he was still thinking about House.

House took a final step forward, and whispered "Cuddy" in Wilson's face. The younger doctor felt the breath on his skin, smelt the scent though his now somewhat laboured breaths.

Then he did the unthinkable: he closed the gap and kissed him.

Wilson kissed House.

House had just been standing there, mouth open ready to repeat his taunt, when Wilson had edged forward and slipped his tongue into the space between House's lips.

Taste of House, Wilson decided, was even better than smell of House.

House, however, Wilson noticed, was not kissing back.

Suddenly aware of what he had done, he broke off, grabbed his jacket and tie from the couch, and ran off down the hall.

House was still standing there. He licked his lips.

All that talk about Cuddy had really fazed Wilson, that was for sure. I mean best friends don't usually go around planting smackers on each other – but House supposed if the oncologist had, at that moment, been lost in thoughts of the Dean of Medicine and her fantastic breasts, then he guessed Wilson could be forgiven.

He licked his lips again.

He hadn't expected Wilson to taste so good.

Ok, in all honesty he hadn't expected to ever taste Wilson at all, but he was going to complain; it had been an experience. About time he'd had another one of those.

He limped back to his office to try out some more experimental treatments on his patient, who would no doubt get lots worse before they got better.

Wilson, in the meantime, was sitting in his car. His hands were on the wheel and he was staring out into space. He hadn't even bothered to start the engine. His erection had disappeared along with the rejection.

This morning he had been Ordinary Wilson; the guy who matches his shirts, blow dries his hair and makes elaborate breakfasts. Now he was Gay Wilson; the guy who had a crush on House.

He reviewed the thought in his head again. Ok, when he looked at it that way it did appear pretty obvious that Ordinary Wilson had really already become Gay Wilson a long time ago. Even without the House part.

He sighed and started the engine, when he got home, he would call in sick.

When Wilson didn't return to work the next day either, House got curious. He went to see Cuddy.

"Yo!" He announced, pushing her office door open with his cane and hobbling over to the desk.

"I heard this crazy rumour that we had a head of cancer at this hospital?"

"Wilson's not coming in today" Replied Cuddy, without looking up.

"Well duh, I had figured that out, what with my superior brains and all. Why?"

"You'll have to ask him."

"Well yeah, I could do that, but I decided to ask you instead"

"Take the day off House; go find Wilson."

"But Mom! I have a patient."

"Your patient was discharged fit and healthy an hour ago."

Damn Cameron and her efficiency; now he would have to confront Wilson and act all glib and try and pretend he was not thinking obsessively about the moment when Wilson had pressed his lips against his.

House rang the doorbell to Wilson's apartment. He waited a moment then, yes, he was quite certain; there was a sound suspiciously like silence from the other side of the door.

"Wilson!" House leant all his weight on the wood, "Open this bloody door or I'll-"

Wilson pulled open the door and House half fell into the room, stopping himself with his cane before he could tumble on top of Wilson.

Wilson already looked like he had been tumbled; he was in a creased shirt and loose trousers and even his usually pristine eyebrows looked like they had been dragged through a hedge backwards. His hair was sticking up everywhere, in at least seven different directions, and he had toothpaste on his chin.

In short, Wilson looked rather yummy.

"I called in sick House. People, normal people" he corrected, "usually avoid sick people in case they catch something."

"It's a bit late for that considering you had your tongue in my mouth about twenty-four hours ago."

Wilson groaned and flung himself down on the length of the sofa, staring up at the ceiling, his bare feet sticking out over the arm rest.

"Aren't you going to explain it?" House asked, hobbling further into the room and looking down at the oncologist.

"I figured you would have already settled on a theory."

"Well, I came up with several, but they are not being very co-operative and all fighting for my attention."

House lifted Wilson's legs up and sat down on the end of the sofa. To Wilson's surprise, House rested Wilson's legs back down across his lap.

"You kissed me."

"Is this a game of state the obvious and no-body told me?" Wilson asked, avoiding the diagnostician's eyes.

"You. Kissed. Me."

"Yes, we've established that."

House slid his tongue over the end of his thumb and stretched out his arm in the direction on Wilson's face. Wilson panicked, but House just wiped the toothpaste off his friend's chin.

"Toothpaste" He explained, holding up his whitened thumb.

Wilson sat up and swung his legs round, before turning his head to look at House.

"Kiss me."

"Seriously?" House asked, raising his eyebrows.




"Okay" House said and in one swift move pulled Wilson's lips up to his own and planted a gentle kiss on his mouth. He pulled away.

"Everybody lies" He said. He reached for the remote, but Wilson grabbed it and hurled it across the room.

"Do you enjoy winding me up? Yes, of course you do, silly question."

"You kissed me first!"

"House, I wasn't thinking straight!"

"Obviously, otherwise I would have been a girl."

"Cuddy thinks I have a crush on you." Wilson volunteered after a moment's silence.

House started to laugh before he realised that Wilson wasn't.

"Do you?" He asked taken aback.

"You're House! You a guy, you're a selfish son-of-a-bitch, and you drive me crazy – and I'm not meaning in a sexual manner!" Wilson had started pacing the room, throwing his hands about in the air.

"You are pretty much the only friend I have – you are the only person I have managed to stick around over the last fifteen years, and to suddenly wake up and realise I am crushing on you? It's pretty epic."

"Everybody has crushes" Said House, evenly.

"No – I have full blown relationships, you, on the other hand, have sex. Neither of us are familiar with the concept of a crush."

"Maybe you're exaggerating...why are you so sure that I am the one for you, apart from my superior intellect and devilishly good looks of course?"

There was a moment's silence then Wilson came back to sit on the sofa. When he spoke, it was barely audible.

"I think about you all the time. I replay every conversation we have over and over in my head. I like being wound up by you because it makes me feel like I'm the centre of your attention. I know the colour of your eyes better than I know my own. And when I kissed you, I'd never wanted anything so fucking much."

House was staring at the carpet.

"Say something." Wilson asked, still as quiet.

"I do that." House said, his eyes still not leaving the floor, "I remember every word you have ever said to me, I wonder what you are up to at the most ridiculous times, and" he added, turning to face Wilson, "I happen to adore the colour of your eyes."

"This is the part where you turn this into a game, right?" Wilson questioned, too afraid to be able to believe his own ears.

"We can play a game if you want..." House responded, edging nearer to the other doctor, "I myself have always been a huge fan of 'spin the bottle'."

He hesitantly moved in and pressed his lips once again to Wilson's this time, allowing his hand to gently snake back behind the oncologist's head and into his hair.

Holy Fuck! I'm being kissed by House. I'm in my dirty t-shirt and sweatpants, I haven't had a shower in twelve hours and House has his lips on mine, and oh shit, that's his tongue. In my mouth. His tongue. My mouth.

House pulled away.

"I expected you to kiss back, you know?"

"Huh?" Asked Wilson, for the second time in two days.

"Are you listening to me?"

"Sorry, it's hard to listen when all my other senses were kind of busy." He grinned sheepishly, "Can we try it again?"

"Well I don't know about that, I'm a once in a life time opportunity and I think you just blew it."

"Sorry you wanted me to blow what?" Wilson whispered in House's ear, simultaneously moving gently onto his lap.

This time he tried not to think, and instead just melted his lips into House's mouth, moaning slightly as House brought his tongue up to make contact. House moved his hands up Wilson's back and under the thin material of his shirt, tracing along the bumps in the other man's spine.

Now Wilson had begun to explore the other man's teeth with his tongue, grinning as House gently bit him on his bottom lip.

"As much as I could sit here making out all day" Said House, in-between kisses, "I am experiencing extreme tightness and discomfort in my jeans, which I think......never mind" He conceded as he felt Wilson undo his zip, and bucked slightly to allow the other man to pull his pants down, exposing his swollen manhood for all to see.

All being Wilson, who wasted no time in slipping his fingers around the hard cock and stroking it, slowly at first, then swiftly, gently scraping his finger nails on the underside as he teased down towards House's balls.

House was by now biting into Wilson's shoulder, glad the other man could not see he face. There was no way Wilson had never done this before, he thought as the other man's fingers once again found their rhythm. Well sure, no doubt he had done it to himself, but even House couldn't get himself going this good.


"What?" Wilson looked up, worried.

"Are you sure you want this?" House asked.

"What? W-why?"

"Because if you never plan to do this again please don't do it now, I think it would drive me mad to only know this once."

"Why House, you almost sound sincere!"

House pulled Wilson to him by his ass, somewhere in the middle his penis was getting slightly crushed, but right now this was all that mattered.

"Wilson I want you. You drive me crazy. The ordinary why does he have to use a hair dryer at three am crazy, and the if he doesn't suck my dick right now I'll die crazy. Wilson, this is not just a crush."

Wilson smiled as he kissed House passionately on the mouth.

"I love you too" He said, then set about sorting out House's sanity...