Silent Secret
Disclaimer: I don't own House.
A/N: I actually wrote this a while ago on a challenge, but I never posted it because I don't believe it would ever happen and frankly, I don't really care for the concept. But, I've been told it was ok, so I decided to post it. Rated T for implied sex, nothing graphic.
Hey! You've got to hide your love away!-Hide Your Love Away, the Beatles
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It was the end of the day, and Gregory House was packing up his leather bag to go home. His day had not gone well, the reason being that Cuddy had forced him to catch up on this month's clinic duty that he had missed. His day had been filled with snot-nosed kids, which he didn't mind so much, and their parents, which he did. He couldn't wait to get home, where something good was waiting for him. He grunted as he stood up from his chair. He was long overdue for another Vicodin.
"So, the good Doctor isn't always as strong as he puts on, is he?" House's head snapped up to see Wilson standing at his door. Fear flashed across House's mind, but he was, of course, far too composed to let it appear on his face.
"Even the best of us can't always look like nothing bothers us. To what do I owe the pleasure of you keeping me from leaving? Difficult patient? Did you think really hard?" House asked, praying that he hadn't come for the reason he had thought. Wilson laughed a little.
"No, no. I'm perfectly capable of handing out Motrin without you. I actually wanted to know if you wanted to go to a bar with me. Guy's night out. Julie's got plans." House would have sighed with relief.
"Sorry, but she isn't the only one. I've got a night of catching up on my soaps with my cat planned, and the poor little kitty hates it when I cancel on him." House lied. Just go, he thought. Don't ask, just leave. Wilson frowned.
"You don't have a cat." House snapped his fingers.
"That's why the litter box never needed empting. I was starting to think the little fur ball had learned to use the toilet." Wilson's frown stayed. "Well, then, I'll be catching up on my soaps alone. Still can't go out with you."
"Alright," he said. "Be that way. I'll get drunk alone. Have fun." House leaned back in his chair.
Phew, he thought. That was close.
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"We should stop." She told him. Neither, it seemed, had any intention of stopping though, as he began kissing her neck.
"Why? Do you think he's getting suspicious?" he said, still nuzzling her neck.
"Not of you. He knows I'm cheating on him, though," she responded. It was beginning to get harder and harder to concentrate on anything other than what he was doing. He pulled away a little.
"He cheated first. With who, you still haven't told me." She caressed his stubble-rough face.
"What's it like, having an affair with your best friends wife?" Julie asked.
"Probably the same as cheating on your husband with his best friend," House retorted. He began tracing circles on her bare back, leaving trails of heat.
"Don't stop!" Julie moaned. House smiled.
"That's what I thought." Julie knew House didn't love her, but it didn't matter. She could pretend for as long as he stayed interested, because she did love him. She knew that to him, she was just release, just a substitute for someone else, but she didn't care. Her love for her husband had fizzled when she'd found that he was cheating, and at first, her affair with House had just been vindictive revenge. The lonely doctor had jumped at the chance for another warm body in his bed. He had been so depraved that it had been easy to manipulate him into betraying his best friend. But then, after all the nights they had spent together, she had fallen for him.
At first, she had thought him incapable of love, but quickly learned the truth. No one refused emotional relationships like he did if they had never been burned. Julie understood. To him, it was a purely physical relationship, the only type he was willing to have with anyone outside of the hospital. He had been hurt, so he put up his defenses to prevent it from happening again. But she had also seen his walls start to crumble. She didn't know which one, Stacy, Cuddy, or Cameron, but someone else had his heart, and that's why he would never love her. For him it was lust, infatuation, anything but love. She minded, but she didn't care, because she could pretend just as long as he still wanted her, because for her, it wasn't just physical.
When she left for the night, she pondered Wilson's affair and House. She would have to tell him one day who it was with, if she didn't tell he would find out anyway. One day, to protect her own feelings, she would leave both House and Wilson, tell House of Wilson's affair, and tell her husband of hers. She would make sure, though, to leave House out of it. She understood that the two were friends, the only friend the man had, and so she would tell Wilson it was must some guy she had met in a bar. As much as she despised Wilson, she loved House too much to ruin what she knew to be the only good thing in his life. But for now, she would stay silent in her one-sided affection. She would keep her silent secret, House, and let Wilson keep his, Cameron.