House impatiently shoved Wilson against the wall, and then proceeded to kiss him again. This time, House slid his tongue into his newly-found lover's mouth, savoring the taste of his vanilla chap stick once more. In an almost ritualistic dance, their tongues mingled for a whole five minutes before House finally decided to allow his friend some oxygen. One hand landed on Wilson's waist, and the other was placed on the wall behind him for balance. As Wilson tried to catch his breath, he felt House's rough jawline rub against his face, immediately followed by House trailing down his neck with kisses.
"Is this… Really happening?" Wilson panted.
House leaned back, staring directly into his eyes. He'd never noticed how purely brown they were before.
"Yes." He replied, quickly resuming his position in the crook of Wilson's neck.
"How… How do I know that you aren't just messing with me?" Wilson asked, diverting his gaze towards the blinds covering the entrance to the office. "Is this just some lame way to humiliate me?"
House stopped what he was doing, raised his head, and let out a single sigh. Wilson received nothing more than a blank stare from the diagnostician for what seemed like ten minutes. And as they both just stood there, Wilson realized that none of this was a bluff. House was having legitimate difficulties expressing himself, but Wilson was able to read the look on his face quite easily.
He opened his mouth to say something, but was interrupted by his socially fucked-up friend.
"I'm gay, Wilson."
Humility lingered in House's voice, and Wilson could see the shame. He could tell by the seriousness of House's tone; by the crack in his voice when he said it. House wasn't messing around anymore. He was undoubtedly homosexual. For a moment Wilson actually felt bad for his friend, but then he realized what a magnificent breakthrough this was. House was actually reaching out, taking hold of his emotions, and… He was expressing them!
Startled, House flinched away at the sudden rise of the oncologist's voice.
"This is great," Wilson exclaimed, grabbing his friend's shoulders and shaking him," Awe-awesome!"
Gregory House did not seem so amused. He just seemed to linger there, staring blankly at Wilson's abdomen. His brow was furrowed in concentration, but Wilson had no idea what he was thinking about. He only hoped that he hadn't somehow given House an epiphany about a patient, which would be led by House leaving the room immediately; no excuse necessary. That's usually what happened after House had that look on his face.
"What?" Wilson asked.
"Sh!" House insisted, putting his index finger over the overactive mouth of Wilson's.
The room seemed to fill with silence, and then both of them heard it. There was a mysterious scratching noise at the door. Immediately, both of them realized exactly what it was. Wilson looked to House for some sort of solution, but he seemed to be preoccupied picking up his cane and walking back to his desk. Frantically, Wilson picked up his shirt, putting both of his arms through. Before he could button it, however, the door to House's office opened. Without any idea of what to do, Wilson fell to the ground and laid still.
"Thirteen! Why do you think people lock their doors?" House asked.
Hadley opened her mouth to explain, but ended up asking if Wilson was alright, instead. House simply gave her one of his genuinely malevolent smiles, telling her that he had drugged him. Chase made a long face, which read that it only seemed logical. Hadley pursed her lips and cocked an eyebrow, leaning down to examine the body motionless on the floor.
Grabbing Wilson's wrist, she stared at her watch for a minute. His pulse was normal. She assumed that House sedated him- although not sure why- and stood up again. Drugs as such seemed to be the only logical reason that Wilson would be laying on the floor. Fortunately, she wasn't very interested in his tie being thrown on the floor a foot away, and his shirt unbuttoned.
"Just wanted to make sure everything was okay in here."
"Why wouldn't it be?" He asked with suspicion.
Chase looked at his co-worker, then returned his gaze to House. From the aussie's perspective, his co-worker and his boss seemed to be hiding something, and he had no idea what it possibly could be pertaining to.
"Me and Thirteen need to talk," House replied, indicating that he wanted him to leave.
Reluctantly, Chase left the office, a little disappointed that he wasn't allowed in on whatever the secret was. He decided to wait for his colleague down the hall, sitting on a wooden bench near the nurse's station.
As soon as the office door was shut, House returned his attention to the female intruder.
"Why would you do that?" He replied with an authentic curiosity.
"You know why," She replied, "I wanted to mess with Wilson."
"No, I get that," House said while leaning back in his chair and crossing his arms, "But I don't get why you would let him kiss me without watching."
"Well, first of all: Wilson came in here and automatically told me to lie about it. Second of all, if you actually believed that he'd do it, wouldn't you want to watch? Being bisexual and all, I'd assume that kind of thing turns you on."
"You're an ass."
"I know," House replied victoriously.
Without another word, she dropped the entire conversation and left the room. House returned his attention to the middle-aged oncologist on the floor in the middle of his office. He cleared his throat to gain attention. Wilson opened his eyes, looking up at the magnificently improvisational man sitting at the desk.
"You can quit doing that now."
"I know," Wilson replied, "But I'm sort of comfortable."
"You call me illogical…"
Wilson got up from the ground and put his hands on his hips. Filled with almost disbelief of his friend's actions, his expression was one of pure disapproval.
"House, they believed that you drugged me."
"That's the point."
"No, the point is, you are illogical. They shouldn't believe that you'd drug me so easily. But you've done it numerous times before, so they have no reason not to believe you. That isn't just incomprehensively illogical, it's insurmountably unethical!"
"Could we skip the fight and get straight to the make-up sex?" House retorted with an arrogant snide.
Wilson looked surprised. All the same, House had managed to create quite a lot of sexual tension. It was undeniable that he now craved fulfilling the urge to finish what they had started.
"Not here," he replied while buttoning his shirt, "Let's take it to your place."
House cocked an eyebrow, almost incredulous of the consensualism.
"Your place is nicer," He retaliated.
"Fine. My place."