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“There’s only one bed in this room, Wilson.” House gestures stupidly at the piece of furniture in question: a double bed sitting proudly in the center of the room.
Wilson pushes past him, placing his suitcase on top of the table. “Can’t get anything past you, can I?” He says dryly.
House stares at his best friend, who’s now calmly unpacking. Of course Wilson would make use of the hotel closet on a weekend long trip. ”You pestered me into coming and you don’t even have a bed for me?” House doesn’t bother keeping the impatience from his voice.
Wilson lets out a long-suffering sigh. “You said you weren’t coming.” He reminds House. “ I only need one bed.”
That’s true enough, but it’s also not the point. Sure, House said he wasn’t coming, but that was mostly because he doesn’t appreciate being told he can’t be left home alone. Truly, the idea of a weekend away with Wilson was actually pretty appealing.
He signed up for the conference under a fake name weeks ago and has been looking for a reason to tag along ever since. Then, of course, he found out Cuddy was coming and that was just the perfect excuse. This way he gets to spend the weekend annoying not one, but two of his favorite targets!
Now he’s thinking that maybe there was a flaw in his plan.
“And then I said I was. ” House snarks. “You could at least have told me I needed to find my own accommodations.”
“I tried, House.” Wilson shakes his head. “There’s some sort of geological conference going on as well, the place is fully booked.” He turns to face House, his hands on his hips. “We can share or you can sleep in the car.”
”Car.” House decides, already walking towards the door.
”Oh, don’t be a baby.” Wilson calls after him. House stops. “We’re both adults.” Debatable. “We can share a bed without making it weird.”
House doubts him very much, but what’s the alternative? Even pretending to go sleep in the car so Wilson would offer to swap was a long shot.
”You better hope Cuddy invites me over to her room after the party tomorrow.” House mutters, but he does get the sleeping clothes from his backpack and starts to change.
”I’ll tell her my virtue depends on it.” Wilson deadpans.
Once in his sleeping clothes, House claims the right side of the bed as his own and uses the extra pillows to build a wall between his side and Wilson’s.
Wilson raises an eyebrow at House’s creation. “‘No homo’, much?”
House rolls his eyes. “As you may have noticed, we are not, in fact, homos. Keep to your side of the bed, Jimmy.”
“Alright.” Wilson raises his hands in surrender. “Whatever you need to protect your fragile masculinity.”
When Wilson finally gets in bed, he’s wearing ridiculous old-man pajamas that do not make him look cute. By unspoken agreement, they go to sleep with their backs to each other.
House wakes up in the middle of the night, which is not an uncommon occurrence for him. What is uncommon is the warm body plastered to his back. He distinctly remembers setting up a wall of pillows between himself and Wilson before going to sleep, because that’s what you do when two fully heterosexual bros are forced to share a bed. Yet here he is, playing the little spoon, Wilson’s arm wrapped possessively around his waist.
House doesn’t make a move to get away from Wilson’s hold. Because… He can’t think of a good excuse, alright? But Wilson’s full-on snoring, so it’s not like he has any way of knowing that this makes House feel warm and cozy and safe.
Of course, that’s when the snoring stops. For a moment, House hopes that Wilson just found a quieter sleeping position, but he instinctively knows that the man behind him has woken up.
House decides that the best defense is a good offence. “You really need to find the fourth Mrs. Wilson if this is how you react to any old warm body in your bed.” He snarks.
Wilson hums. “I noticed you haven’t moved away.” He slurs, clearly still at least half asleep.
“And fall off the edge of the bed?” House fires back even though, if anything, he’s the one infringing on Wilson’s side of the bed. But that’s fine, Wilson’s probably too sleepy to tell anyway.
Wilson, the bastard, goes on the offensive as well, pressing a soft kiss to the back of House’s neck. “Is that enough to scare you away?” He asks as he pulls back minutely.
House’s frozen in place. This is way more affection than they have ever shown each other, but sleepy Wilson does seem to give a shit about that. And House, God damn him, liked it. He liked it a whole fucking lot. “I didn’t feel anything.” He finally manages to get out, his mouth dry. “Try again.”
Wilson does. His lips are still soft on House’s neck, right above the collar of his T-shirt, but this time he holds pressure for a couple of seconds before pulling back.
House’s so fucked. ”Yup. Definitely enough.” He tries to joke, but it comes out shaky with how unmoored he’s feeling at the moment. “Go sleep in the bathtub, Wilson.”
Wilson lets out a deep rich chuckle. “Good night, House.” He nuzzles the words onto House’s back.
House can tell that Wilson falls asleep shortly after that.
House himself stays awake for a long time still, wondering what the fuck just happened.
His sleep is dreamless: one moment House’s theorizing about this new development in their friendship and the next he’s opening his eyes to find morning light sneaking in through the blinds.
Although, as he takes stock of his body, House realizes that maybe it wasn’t a matter of not dreaming , but rather of not remembering . Judging by the state of his erection, he’d say he had the wettest of dreams.
Further inspection reveals that he’s not the only one. He can also feel Wilson’s hard-on pressing onto his ass.
Again, House doesn’t move.
This doesn’t mean anything, he decides after a moment. It’s a natural consequence of having a dick that sometimes it’s hard when you wake up. It’s completely unrelated to what happened in the middle of the night. And to the fact that House and Wilson are currently spooning.
The biggest surprise is that House doesn’t mind this at all. It’s… actually kind of hot, the way Wilson is hard against him. Just by rocking his hips, House could make Wilson feel so good. And then maybe Wilson would reach around House to jerk him off and…
What the fuck?
Where the hell did those thoughts come from? Is this something House wants? Is he even allowed to want this?
Wilson might hit more than a few of the stereotypes for gay men (what with the blow drying his hair every morning and getting regular manicures) but that doesn’t actually mean he’s attracted to men.
Right?
Right.
So even if House does want those things (which he can neither confirm nor deny), it’s pointless. They’re never happening and he’s better off not giving it any mind.
And House’s here for Cuddy anyway. What’s the point of even wondering about Wilson’s sexuality? Or House’s own, for that matter?
House slips out of bed while Wilson’s still asleep.
And if when he gets himself off in the shower Wilson’s is the name on his lips… Well, that really isn’t anyone’s business but his own.
He’s still processing the rejection from Cuddy when he walks into his and Wilson’s room to find his best friend asleep on their bed. He’s mostly lying on House’s side, but turned towards his own.
That’s just House’s luck, isn’t it? The woman he's interested in just walked away from his very best effort at wooing her and now he doesn’t even have half of the bed to himself because Wilson is a goddamned bed hog.
House takes off the ridiculous costume and changes into his soft sleep clothes before moving towards the bed and being, once again, faced with the issue of Wilson.
Fuck it, he decides, although that might be the booze talking. He lies down on what’s left of his side of the bed and immediately presses himself to Wilson’s back.
“House?” Wilson mumbles, probably still asleep.
”Payback’s a bitch, huh?” House says, wrapping his arm around Wilson’s waist.
Surprisingly, the responding noise Wilson lets out is distinctively happy. ”Tried to wait up.” He slurs.
”I didn’t expect you to.” House tries for sarcastic, but somehow lands on gentle. “Only big boys can stay up past 9PM.”
”How’s the party?” Wilson groggily reaches for House’s hand on his stomach. It’s kind of cute, actually.
Fuck. This was supposed to be Wilson’s punishment, how did it turn into House feeling warm and fuzzy? ”Go back to sleep, Jimmy.” House whispers. “We’ll talk tomorrow.”
”Mmkay.” Wilson burrows deeper into the pillow and House can’t resist getting his nose on Wilson's hair. He smells nice, House will have to steal some of his fancy shampoo.
”Goodnight, Wilson.” House can hear the softness in his own voice.
This might be a bigger issue than he first thought.
There’s a phone ringing.
House ignores it. If it’s important they’ll call again, is his usual rationalization.
Unfortunately, the phone ringing is quickly followed by Wilson reaching for said phone, moving enough for House to be hit with a wave of coldness. Instinctively, House lets out a sound of protest and pulls Wilson back towards himself.
Wilson’s smart enough to get back to his original position. “Hello.” He says into the phone, then listens to whoever’s on the other side for a long time before answering. “Yeah, thanks for telling me.” And hanging up.
“It’s 7 in the morning,” House grumbles, “someone better be dead.”
“My patient,” Wilson replies quietly, “Joseph Schultz.”
“Oh.” House needs a moment to try and remember who that is. The man he saw yesterday. Terminal cancer beyond palliative care. “Under the circumstances,” he says at last, voice soft as anything, “that’s the best thing that could have happened, right?”
“Yeah.” Wilson sighs. “I just wish I’d been there.”
There must be something wrong with House. He’s heard this tale from Wilson a hundred times and, while he’s always tried to comfort his friend, Wilson’s sad voice has never gotten to him like this.
“Turn around, Jimmy.” House says seriously, not letting up his hold on his best friend.
Wilson sports a confused frown as he turns in House’s arms, but House ignores it in favor of guiding him to rest his head on House’s chest. He keeps one arm tightly holding on to Wilson’s back and allows his other hand to play with Wilson’s hair.
House doesn’t have any comforting words other than the ones he’s already said, so he stays quiet. Wilson isn’t crying, he’s just sad. And guilty. Actually, the guilt is interesting, House will have to look deeper into that later.
For now, he holds on to Wilson until the other man relaxes in his arms and then lets himself press a soft kiss to Wilson’s hair.
He pointedly doesn’t think about what this new-found softness towards Wilson might mean.
It’s weirdly comforting, watching Cuddy and Lucas play with Rachel. Cuddy’s rejection suddenly makes perfect sense. It’s not that she doesn’t like House, it’s not even that she doesn’t want House. It’s that she’s found someone who’ll put her family first.
House’s not the kind of man. And, more importantly, he doesn’t want to be that kind of man.
Lucas is.
“He looks like a guy who’d be there every day.” House says out loud when he hears Wilson stepping up behind him. “Mini bar’s restocked, I say we grab some pretzels for the road—”
He cuts himself off when he feels Wilson’s hands resting tentatively on each side of his waist. Wilson’s clearly asking for permission before doing something drastic like cuddling House in public.
House only needs a moment to decide he doesn’t give a shit about anyone else seeing them before nodding. Wilson steps forward, his arms coming fully around House’s waist as his chest lightly grazes House’s back.
”When you do what I did, it’s not enough to tell yourself you did nothing wrong.” Wilson says quietly, his forehead resting on House’s shoulder. “You need to hear it from someone else. If not God or society, a friend.” He takes a deep breath. “Or…”
Wilson just lets that last word hang in the air, giving House the chance to take it in any direction he wants.
What does House want to be for Wilson?
He could just say ‘best friend’ and he knows Wilson would drop it. They’d go back to how they were before. But after the last couple of nights in Wilson’s bed… He doesn’t want to give that up.
So where does that leave him? Boyfriend? Husband? Lover? Is this what he wants?
”A partner?” House offers. It feels right. Romantic, yes, but also so much more. Truth is, they’ve been partners for years already.
”I’d like that.” The smile is evident on Wilson’s voice.
House allows himself to smile as well, until his eyes catch on Cuddy again and the smile turns into a smirk. ”Shouldn’t you wait until my fragile little broken heart is mended before making a move?”
”Shouldn’t you have waited until you were done pursuing Cuddy before jumping into bed with me?” Wilson retorts without missing a beat.
”Well, someone booked us the wrong room.” House teases.
Wilson is suspiciously silent.
House turns around, his eyes narrowed. “Or maybe not.” He studies Wilson’s face. “Maybe someone knew exactly what he was doing.”
Wilson just smiles, which is as good a confirmation as any that he was scheming the whole time.
Then again, he could be bluffing. Maybe this was all a happy coincidence and Wilson wants to take the credit, make himself seem more cunning than he actually is.
Of course, maybe that’s what he wants House to think and it’s a double bluff…
Fuck. House’s mind is spinning at a mile a minute and Wilson just keeps on smiling like a fool.
House has to kiss that stupid smile off his face. The man should know that smiling like that is just begging for his partner to kiss him. Hell, calling House his partner is just begging for his partner to kiss him.
Wilson makes a surprised noise when House’s lips catch him off guard, but then he’s kissing back with everything he’s got. He still has one arm around House’s waist, but his other hand frames House’s jaw, angling his face how he wants and deepening the kiss.
House’s knees go weak, but it’s okay because Wilson has him pinned against the parapet, their whole bodies pressed together. It’s perfect. Jesus, House should have known that Wilson would be delicious
Far too soon, Wilson is pulling back. ”Thank you.” He whispers.
House blinks a couple of times as he pulls himself together enough to process the words, but then he cackles. ”You’re not so bad yourself.” He winks.
”For what you said to me up there.” Wilson clarifies, a soft smile on his face. “I needed to hear it. That’s what I came out here to say.”
House pouts dramatically. “You didn’t come out here to make out?”
”That’s just icing on the cake.” Wilson smiles before kissing him again.