Disclaimer: None of this belongs to me, I only write for fun.
Warnings: Slash.
Although this fic can be read alone, is included in my "A new start" series. It is set around two weeks after the events that take place in "On the road". So, if you haven't read the previous ones, some things in the fic could not make a lot of sense.
As always, I thank my beta TrenchcoatsAreSexy for her help and support. And any remaining mistakes are my fault, not her's.
"We should marry."
At the unexpected sentence, House lifted his gaze from his backpack, where he was packing his belongings, to watch his friend, turned lover, with a guarded expression in his features.
"Sure." Sarcastically, he quickly dismissed Wilson's statement.
"I'm serious, Greg." Wilson stared at House with an intent expression in his eyes, trying to convey in them the firmness of his words.
"Too bad. I don't plan on becoming the fourth Mrs. Wilson." House said, scowling at his friend. At the same time, he forced his growing anger down. He had a faint notion of where Wilson's idea had come from, and he didn't like it. "And, it's Ben now." He went on, trying to change the topic.
"I doubt you could ever be considered Mrs. Whoever. But, that's not the point, House." Wilson didn't let his friend distracted him from his goal. "Would you at least consider it?"
"I've thought about it for as long as you have: less than a minute." House said with an edge of anger tinging the mocking in his voice. "The answer is still the same, though."
"House, I know what you think about marriage, but it's the best course of action." Wilson said patiently. He had expected some resistance from House, but not anger and that puzzled him.
"Yes, I can see that it is, from your point of view. Because this would be your only marriage that wouldn't end in divorce." The bitterness that had also been present in House's voice had increased tenfold with his last statement.
"House, it's not like that. I-" Wilson tried to explain himself, with growing concern for his lover's behavior.
"Save your breath. I don't plan on becoming a widower, either." House's ill-concealed sadness and grief were only shadowed by the annoyance he felt at Wilson's insistence.
Wilson felt the guilt creeping into him. He sighed. He was feeling a lot of that lately. He felt guilty because of House. He didn't regret becoming his lover. No, he would never change that new aspect of their relationship, because it was obvious that they were happier together than they had ever been in any of the other relationships they had had. But that happiness was dampened with the infinite sadness that came with the knowledge that it had a too-close expiration date.
That was his regret now. Giving up the fight before it started. It was true that he would have suffered some amount of pain, but their time together would have been longer. Who knew? He could even have defeated the cancer. Now it was too late. The tumor would be bigger, or he could even be in stage 3, already. So, if his chances before weren't so great, now they would be minimal. If he could go back in time, he would choose differently.
Moreover, with the change in their relationship, House was bound to suffer even more with his death. He hadn't had the courage to ask House what he was going to do after his death, because he was afraid of the answer. Too afraid.
Though he couldn't change the past, he could do it right from now on. And he knew that this was the right thing to do: marrying the man he loved the most, the one he had denied being in love with for so long.
He had emotional reasons to want to marry him, but he also had practical ones. He knew it was more probable to convince his lover with the practical reasons, so he chose that approach..
"House, you know you're in my will, as I was in yours. But, as it is right now it's useless to you..." Wilson started to explain his reasons, but was cut by his friend.
"I'm not going to stay here so I can hear you talk about wills," House snapped.
He stormed into the bathroom, but before he could get the door closed, Wilson had catch up with him and he found himself locked in the bathroom with Wilson, who was blocking the door.
"House, please, listen to me," Wilson pleaded, feeling his own sorrow grow as he sensed House's rolling off of him.
He moved away from the door and went to stand in front of his lover, who wasn't looking at him. He put one hand in House's cheek and, with a lot of tenderness, forced his friend to look at him. He leaned onto him and gave House a gentle kiss on his lips. When they parted, they locked gazes and Wilson could see that House's eyes were bloodshot.
"I know how hard it's for you to think about me dying. I know you don't want to think or to talk about it, but there are some issues we really need to talk about. And this is one of them." Wilson looked intently at House, who had looked away as soon as he had started to talk again. The oncologist sighed and didn't move from the spot he were, letting his lover to choose staying or leaving. When House sat on the toilet, Wilson's lips were graced with a touch of a smile that didn't reach his eyes. He took a stool that was in the bathroom, sat in front of House and took one of his lover's hands between his own. Concerned, he observed that House's gaze was locked on his own feet. He started to caress his lover's wrist with his fingers.
"A considerable amount of the money I have is yours. It comes from your will. If I leave mine as it is, you won't be able to get it back." At House's tightening of his jaw, Wilson gripped his hand with more strength. He went on with an obvious trembling in his voice. "I don't know what you are going to do when I'm gone, and I don't wanna know. I'm afraid I won't like what you have to tell me about it. But I need to leave things wrapped up, in case I'm wrong about it.
"I could just change my will to your new identity, Ben Evans, but I'm afraid that this would only cause you a lot of trouble. I mean, if I leave all my money to a man who nobody has ever heard about, my parents are bound to be upset. It's more than likely that they think that you're some kind of an opportunist that have somehow convinced me to left it all to you. They'll probably sue you. And you know where that would lead you to."
"To prison." House softly agreed with also a trembling voice. "Wilson..." He tried to go on, but his voice faltered.
"Greg, please, marry me." He could feel House's hand trembling between his.
He didn't like to do that to House, to cause him such pain, but he really wanted to marry the man that had given up everything just for him. God, more than a month has passed and he still was overwhelmed when he thought about how much House should love him to do that and not regret it.
"I don't think it would make a difference where your parents are concerned." House said softly, hardly keeping the trembling off from his voice. "They will probably think that I'm an opportunist all the same."
"No, if you are my husband they won't have any moral reason to claim the inheritance," Wilson hotly denied.
House smirked and shook his head. When he spoke next, there was so much sadness in his voice that it could have been cut with a knife.
"You're so naive sometimes, Jimmy! You've been nothing less than completely straight all your life. Then, you're in the verge of dying and, pop! - suddenly, you marry a man that supposedly is a stranger. How do you think people would react, especially your parents? They will think I've taken advantage of you, of your illness, all the same." House lifted his reddened eyes to look at his friend. "If they knew it was the asshole of your friend, they probably wouldn't even raise an eyebrow... hell, everybody has always suspected we were more than just friends... but, seriously, a complete stranger when you didn't marry me when I was alive? They are bound to be suspicious of me, either way."
"House..." Wilson could see he was losing the battle, and he didn't like it.
"No, Wilson. My answer is still the same." House's gaze hardened with his next words. "Change your will if you want it, or don't. But I'm not going to marry you because of a damned will."
House was going to sit up, when something in Wilson's pose made him pause. He was now the one staring fixedly to the floor and he was biting hard his lower lip.
"Okay, don't do it because of the will, do it because... because... I..." Wilson raised his eyes and looked at House's. Oh, God, how much he loved those baby-blue eyes. "You have the most beautiful blue eyes I've ever seen." House raised an eyebrow at what seemed an unexpected change of topic. "And I want everybody knows they're mine and nobody else's."
House couldn't help but smile at the possessiveness in Wilson's voice and words. All his life, he had so rarely felt wanted that those words warmed him and made him feel loved. It was his turn to lean on Wilson and kiss his lips.
"Do you know that you don't need to marry me for people to know?" House said with a smirk and Wilson frowned knowing he was going to be teased about it. "I can just tattoo on my forefront Property of James Wilson, and people will know. It's more straightforward than having to go showing around the marriage license."
"You're an ass." Wilson answered trying to sound annoyed, but failing because the picture House had provided to him had made him smile. House just smiled in return as part of the sadness and awkwardness in the room had evaporated thanks to his joke.
"I really meant it, House." Wilson started anew after a few seconds of silence. "And before you say anything else, please let me finish. Will you?"
"Okay." House agreed reluctantly.
"As you've stated, I've been married three times before and I've had a lot of relationships with other women-"
"Tell me something I don't know," House muttered.
"Will you let me finish?" Wilson said, less annoyed than he let on. "When I had gone, there's the possibility of people realizing that you are alive and they can also discover that we were lovers." He slid one hand up Greg's arm to his face and lovingly caressed him. He stared at his lover with an open gaze that exposed his bared soul for House to see.
"House, this relationship we have means a lot to me and I want people to know that," Wilson continued. "I don't want that they dismiss it as if it was an inconsequential romp or just as a way to relieve our mutual urges. I want for them to know, without a shadow of doubt, that what we have has been at least as important as any of my other relationships. Any of them. And this is the way I have to do this. To show everybody that you are that much important to me. That I am willing to leave behind everything that was expected from me, just because of you."
Wilson's voice was trembling now. He had exposed his soul wide-open and he wasn't sure he could stand House mocking him if he decided to. To his credit, he didn't. Instead, he had dropped his mask, and was looking at him with open awe. He had never experienced being the object of so much devotion and it was overwhelming. So, he felt his heart clench when Wilson, without letting go of his hand, slid from the stool and knelt down on the floor between his legs.
"Gregory House, will you marry me?" Wilson asked again.
And then, House knew he was doomed: that look on his lover's face, those pleading eyes looking at him and that hand trembling and grasping at his own as if for dear life made him realize that the choice had been made for him. He could deny nothing to Wilson when he looked like that.
"Yes," he whispered, even knowing that every step they gave into deepening their relationship made his own end more tied to Wilson's.
All tension seemed to evaporate from the younger man, who collapsed onto House's body. Still kneeling between his lover's legs, he tightly wrapped his arms around House's waist and rested his head against his abdomen, pressing all his upper body to House's lower. Like in an epiphany, House realized that that gesture was way more intimate that any of their love-makings, if that was even possible.
HWHWHWHWHWHWHWHWHWHW
"When and where?" House asked between mouthfuls of his breakfast doughnut.
"When and where, what?" Wilson asked puzzle.
"You want us to marry," House said casually, as if he was talking about the weather.
"Oh, that... well..." Wilson mumbled.
Suddenly, the younger man was finding his cup of coffee very interesting. House had agreed to marry him the morning before, but all the emotional clash had left them so exhausted that they hadn't been able to mount their bikes and go on with their trip. So, in a silent agreement, they had stayed in the motel room making out and having sex, but they hadn't talked about the wedding anymore, both fearing the emotional place where that could led them. And now, House was breaking the subject again.
"How do you want it to be, House?" Wilson looked up tentatively.
"Mmmm-hhhh." House tried to speak with his mouth full, while shaking his head and pointing at Wilson with the remainder of his doughnut. He swallowed. "I asked first." He bit the rest of the pastry and looked expectantly at Wilson.
"If it's all right with you, I would like a marriage. A real marriage. Not any of the other alternatives they allow to gay couples," he said, not sounding all that much convinced.
"Hey, if you've had second thoughts about marrying, it's okay to me," House said, sounding nonchalant, although, in fact, he was trying hard to hide the sting that such an idea had elicited.
"No, no!" Wilson sounded almost panicked. "I still want to marry you. It's the thing I most want right now." He was surprised when he saw the ill-concealed relief in his lover's face. More confident of their decision, he went on. "It's just that I know that you're not so fond of marriage, that I'm not sure if you want a real marriage."
"I don't think it really matters. I suppose that you realize that our status as a married couple won't be acknowledged in many of the States." At Wilson's nod, he shrugged his shoulders and kept on speaking. "Well, then, I don't think it matters if we marry or go for a civil union or domestic partnership or whatever other name they have decided to call it."
"It matters to me." He was again looking at his coffee.
House was grateful he hadn't still sipped any coffee of the cup he had in his lips. Wilson had that look again. He swallowed and put down the cup with a shaking hand.
"Care to explain?" he asked, trying to keep his voice steady and staring pointedly to his friend.
"Do you remember what I told you yesterday?" Wilson asked with a strained voice.
"Difficult to forget." House's voice was now just a whisper.
Wilson took one of House's hands and squeezed it, comfortingly.
"I know that our marriage from a legal point of view can be meaningless in the majority of the States. As it would be a civil union or a domestic partnership. But, to me, it's very meaningful what form we choose to join our lives.
"I love you, House, more than I've loved any of the women that have been in my life. If I want to make clear to anybody that you are that important to me, I can't do any less with you than what I did before. So, marriage is the only real choice. Any other choice would make me feel as if I'm brushing us off."
"Okay. But if you want a marriage, the nearest State where we can do it is Iowa," House said, accepting the arrangements proposed by Wilson.
"I know. We can go back there just to marry and, then, go on with our trip." Wilson smiled brightly at his soon-to-be husband.
"You've thought this thoroughly, haven't you?" House couldn't conceal the amusement from his voice. It made his lover look away shyly for a second.
"Yeah," the younger man mumbled.
It was very obvious to House that the "marry-me" thing hadn't been asked on the spur of the moment, a crazy idea concocted in one second and told in the next. Wilson had obviously given it long, hard thought. House wondered how long his friend had wanted to propose to him.
"How long?" House asked, his eyebrows raised. Wilson didn't need to ask what his lover was referring to.
"Since we arrived in Iowa." Wilson kept talking in a soft voice, somehow wary of disclosing how long he had entertained the idea of marrying House.
"That was more than a week ago! And you failed to ask me before we exited the State..." The older man was genuinely surprised about Wilson's reluctance to confront an emotional topic. That was his prerogative, not his lover's.
"I was trying to gather the courage enough for proposing you." Wilson felt ashamed to confess it.
"I can tell," House said matter-of-factly.
"And after what we went through yesterday, can you blame me?" Wilson struck back, starting to feel a bit annoyed at House's accusatory attitude.
"Point taken." House's simple acknowledgement soothed Wilson's temperament and allowed him to relax, thinking on their impending marriage.
House sipped his coffee, deep in thought. He smiled. In fact, he was warming up to the idea of getting married with Wilson. Not that he was going to say it out loud, but getting married was starting to sound appealing. This trip would become their honeymoon trip, not just part of Wilson's bucket list. Although this wasn't going to change anything, because he would still let his friend choose whatever they were going to do. As for the wedding night, he was sure he could conceive of something interesting.
He looked at his lover, who was lost in his own thoughts. He seemed to be daydreaming. Shining and soft eyes, a half smile in his lips and a longing in his stance that made him look completely fuckable. When House felt a tingling in his groin, he knew he had to change the direction of his thoughts. He will entertain them later, when they were alone.
He let his mind wandered to the previous day and to the proposal. At least this time it wasn't fake. He stifled a laugh, remembering the other time Wilson had proposed him.
"By the way, your proposal sucked," House said, smirking.
"How so?" Wilson asked smiling, knowing too well that whatever House was going to say would amuse the older man at his expense.
"You fake propose me and offer me a ring. You do it for real, and don't even bother about putting a Cheerio on my finger." House made a fake pout while rapidly blinking, mock-fighting inexistent tears.
"If you need a ring to feel you properly wooed, we'll stop in the next city to buy one." Wilson kept the banter going, although he rolled his eyes at his lover's childish jokes.
"I don't need it, I require it. It's outrageous you have dared to propose me without offering me the traditional ring." Now House was faking anger and disappointment, and Wilson had to do his best to not burst in laughter.
"Of course. How inconsiderate of me. After all, you are so used to sticking to traditions and norms..." Wilson's contained smile negated his apparently concerned and apologizing tone of voice.
"You know, that's me. Always complying with what I'm asked," House said, his face completely serious, but his blue eyes blazing with mirth.
"Yeah, sure. But, if you desire so, I'll buy you a ring. But, afterwards, ask yourself who is the girl in this relationship." Wilson tried to put an equally serious face, but he was sure he was failing miserably.
"You, of course," House said simply. He was incapable of keeping the smile off of his face anymore.
Wilson raised his eyebrows and tried to stifle his laughter. After struggling for a few seconds, he surrendered and laughed heartily. At once, House joined him. After the laughter subsided, they resumed eating their breakfast.
"Well, I'm going to book us out while you finish your breakfast," House said, after a long but comfortable silence.
He sat up and leaned into Wilson to kiss him softly on his lips. He was going to pull away when he saw out of the corner of his eye a man grimacing in revulsion at seeing them kissing. Looking at him, he deepened the kiss, daring him to say anything. Eventually, the guy looked away. House wasn't going to let other people made him -or Wilson- felt shame for loving another man, the man he was going to marry.
"If you keep on with that, we are going to stay one day more in this motel," Wilson said when House backed away. The hoarseness in his voice made House smirk.
"Not a bad idea," House answered back, but left Wilson's side to go to the door.
Once outside, his smirk turned into a real smile. The idea of marrying Wilson was definitely growing on him.