It had been a full day since Wilson had kissed House out of spontaneity, and House hadn't spoken to him yet.

He didn't know what he was thinking, or even why he did it in the first place. No, that wasn't exactly right. Over the years their friendship had grown into something more, their banter had evolved from the occasional innuendo, to nothing but, and to Wilson, it had seemed like a prime example of flirtation. He planted his elbows on his desk and dug his hands into his hair, tugging the unfortunate strands in frustration.

It was all House's fault. He had insisted that the two go out for dinner, complete with candle light and fine wine followed by a tipsy, moonlight walk. He ground his teeth viciously, remembering all too well the events that had followed.

The two had collapsed on the park bench, doubled over in laughter, scaring away squirrels and other such small woodland critters. House was the first to get control over his mirth, wiping a tear from his eye but a goofy lopsided grin was still plastered on his face. Wilson felt his eyes on him, ice blue lit by ghostly moon beams. House had lazily draped his arm over the back of the bench and around Wilson's shoulders, simply watching the younger man.

Wilson's breath had caught in his throat, and dry mouth plagued him as soon as he learned how to inhale again. He swallowed hard and tenderly stroked House's cheek with the back of his hand before pulling him closer.

When he pulled away, House met his eyes with a blank, questioning, almost demanding stare. Wilson, wide eyed, had quickly gathered his coat in his arms and stood up slowly. With a final look back at his best friend, he walked away at a brisk pace.

Wilson had returned to the hospital after a fitful 4 hours of sleep. He knew he would have to face House, but the time until then was both a godsend and a distressing time bomb, ticking down the seconds he had left to come up with an excuse.

All too soon his office door slammed open and Wilson jumped out of his chair, nearly tripping on the god forsaken thing in surprise.

"Jesus! Haven't you heard of knocking!" Wilson was terrified, though his shock was quickly dissolving.

House just rolled his eyes, planting his cane firmly in the carpet. "Honestly, after so many years of knowing me you think you would have actually learned something about me."

Wilson opened his mouth to retort but House cut him off, "Look, we need to talk. Last night…"

Wilson blushed a rosy pink, unable to look at the man. "I know…"

House dropped whatever it was he was going to say and studied the Oncologist's face. He suppressed a small grin and changed tactics "So, what is it, you're gay?"

Wilson's head snapped up, "What-?"


"No, I-"

"Then what? You're going to blame the alcohol? You had barely enough to make a lemur pass out and choke on his own vomit."

Wilson was shocked into silence.

House took the opportunity to corner Wilson behind his desk, leaning heavily on his cane. "So which is it?"

For a moment, there was nothing but the sounds of the hospital; machinery that kept its patients alive, the wheeling of a few carts down the hallways. Suddenly, Wilson's face contorted into an expression of such conflicting and confused pain. "House…. I'm sorry. For some reason, you're the only friend I have and I can't imagine losing that bond, but I won't lie to you. For the longest time, I was convinced our friendship had grown into something more—more than just friends—" He squirmed, trying to find the right words and all the while House's smile had just grown larger. Finally, in a flash of annoyance, Wilson snapped, "Looks House, If you think this is all just a big joke or something-"

"Wilson…" House said softly, "You talk too much."

He reached out, grabbing a fistful of Wilson's clean pressed shirt and pulled him into his chest, kissing him roughly. He smiled as the younger melted against him and encircled House's torso with soft caresses and needy squeezes.

Remembering himself, Wilson pulled away, gasping for air. He fixed a stern glare at the man, "If this is just another one of your sick jokes to mess with me I swear-"

House kissed him again, effectively silencing him, but Wilson managed to pull away once more. "House, I want to know exactly what this is."

"Really Wilson, what does it look like?"


"We live together for Pete's sake! How much more plain do I have to put it?"

The oncologist was miffed, "I thought you just needed a place to stay…"

House stared at him, incredulous, "You would…" He backed off and limped out Wilson's porch door, hoping over the little wall to his own office before calling back, "Don't stay late, I'm going to make dinner." He poked his head back out of his own office door with a cocky grin, "And don't forget to straighten your tie, dear."

A wide, boyish grin spread across the young man's face, shaking his head from side to side. He sat in his chair, replaying their conversation from House's point of view. He sighed, unable to contain his happiness. "… jerk."