Dr. James Wilson had a rather… undesirable past with romantic relationships. It wasn't anyone else's fault but his own if he was honest. He didn't exactly have a good track record with female staff at the hospital… or women in general. His best friend happened to also be a world-renowned diagnostic doctor by the name of Dr. Greg House. But underneath the façade of his accomplishments, there was a miserable man who was addicted to Vicodin to end his pain from the nearly fatal blood clot in his leg. Add that with being an asshole, not trusting anything anyone says, reading a stranger like a book, and acting like the rules don't apply to him, and you have one of the best doctors, yet one of the worst people, in the world.

And somehow, Wilson had fallen for him.

It wasn't something out of the blue. They had met at a conference a while ago, but Wilson got insanely drunk and started a bar fight. Because of it, Wilson had broken a mirror, and when they returned, the oncologist found out that there were charges against him. Granted, Wilson's first impression was that House was an asshole with a big ego and he was mad about the bar fight, yet there was something about him that seemed… unique. After a few weeks talking and hanging out, the two were inseparable. They would watch Monster Truck marathons while drinking beer, House would grill him for his choices in women, Wilson would help out if there was a case involving cancer. It was great.

At first, House merely saw Wilson as a means to an end. It was clear that he was on a fast track to become the head of the oncology department, but he was also easy to deceive. A few social experiments here, a bit of teasing there, and Wilson had proven his usefulness to House. The oncologist often referred to himself as House's 'conscience', tried to stop him from making outrageous decisions, was the 'knight in shining armor' type, and got involved with the wrong women on too many occasions.

And somehow, House had fallen for him.

Now, he knew the guy had problems with romance, House had even been Wilson's best man at the wedding both of his wives, but somehow sentiment had clawed his way into his heart concerning the younger man. Wilson had even been the best man at House's wedding to Stacy, had been there with him through the first year after his leg surgery, and somehow maintained playing 'the good guy' throughout it.

Maybe it was having a positive person in his life, or maybe it was Wilson being practically the only friend he had, House didn't know the reason for his attraction anymore. He just knew that he wouldn't let it ruin his friendship.

Those years of friendship lead to Wilson being separated from his second wife, sleeping on the couch in House's apartment, and in the same day being thrown out simply because of his morning routine. He hated that he had to move out as soon as he had moved in, but it was House's home, so it was House's rules of who stayed and who didn't (even if it was for selfish reasons). Problem was the apartment owner never got back to him, so he was forced to stay a few more days with House.

Maybe this could be a new start for him. He could find a place to live in on his own, and avoid dating for a while. It could be nice… if it wasn't always the women who decided he was theirs, and not the other way around. It was a cycle ever since college: he'd ask a girl to hang out with no romantic intentions, after a few times they'd ask him on a date, and the last two times that happened, they ended up getting married, then divorced. How did he always get sucked into that? It was torture! These thoughts haunted him as he fell asleep on the somewhat uncomfortable couch.

House, meanwhile, was waiting in his bedroom for Wilson to fall asleep. He had decided that this second divorce was an opportunity for him to find out something important: was Wilson in the closet and secretly in love with him? He had his suspicions over the years from things like how far House could push the boundaries, to straight up covering for him when he did something possibly illegal… also a few looks here and there… basically the image of unrequited, secret love.

Now this wasn't a one-way street. For years now, House actually did feel strongly for Wilson. One could argue that House was even in love with Wilson (they'd be right), but there was never really an opportunity to confess these feelings to the oncologist. When the first Wilson wife left and the new one showed up, House hadn't really thought anything of it at first. They were best friends, nothing more. A few years after that, House married Stacy, and they had a pretty decent relationship... before the muscle myopathy.

While Stacy was busy smoking cigarettes into the vents to ease the pain, House would think about what he was doing with his life. He loved Stacy, he really did, but there was just something not quite right in their relationship. It was never fulfilling in a way that would last the rest of their lives, and neither of them were really fully committed anymore.

When he finally figured out what it was, he had no idea what to do with the information... he was in love with his best friend.

He couldn't necessarily act on what he figured out. Wilson was a married man, House was also a married man (well, not for much longer), so what would be the point in saying anything? He thought it was better to treasure his friendship for as long as possible instead of messing it up with stupid feelings like this.

At least, that was what he thought until Julie decided to cheat on Wilson and kick him to the curb. House had a sneaking suspicion that there was something more there ever since Wilson showed up at his doorstep. The look on his face was disappointment, anger, but also relief, and even hope. To others, that wasn't much to go on, would even argue with the hope part and say it was wishful thinking.

Not House.

To him, these were clear signs that there was something there, but he needed further proof. That was why he needed a base pulse to start an experiment the following day. In order to do this, he needed to wait until Wilson was in REM sleep so that it was as calm as possible, then had to give the sleeping man a scare to wake up and have an excuse to check his pulse during that.

Easy.

At about 1:30 AM, House quietly left his room and went to the couch. Wilson was fast asleep, snoring gently, and his arm was stretched out and hanging over the side of the couch. The perfect setting for the perfect crime. As quietly as his limp would allow, the diagnostician kneeled right by the sleeping doctor's face and checked the pulsepoint at his wrist. It was, of course, slowed down due to the fact that he was asleep, but now he had the base for the lowest possible pulse to go off of.

For a moment, House took in Wilson's sleeping form. His hair was slightly mussed from sleep, the usual lines in his face were almost non existent, and he looked - actually, it was best to stop that train of thought right there before he got all sappy and cliched.

So he forced himself to stand up, stepped back a few feet, and started pretending that he was walking into the living room half asleep. In the process, he whacked Wilson in the arm with his cane.

Immediately, Wilson awoke with a yell and a severe pain in his outstretched arm. When he looked up at the source of the disturbance, he saw House half-awake and startled. It was as if he had no idea what he had done… but the oncologist knew better. House didn't wake up in the middle of the night for no reason.

"What in God's name are you doing!?" Wilson asked.

"I… thought I heard something." House answered tiredly, and added a yawn at the end for effect.

"Heard what?"

"Door opening… moving around… thought it was a burglar."

"Maybe you were dreaming?" Wilson suggested as he sat up and rubbed his arm. "Something realistic enough to think it was real."

"Maybe." Time to turn on the concern. "Let me see your arm."

Wilson was a little suspicious, but let House examine his arm anyway. There was no doubt it would bruise by morning, but he usually wore his doctor's coat anyway, so it would be easy to hide. But when House started to palpate around the affected area, Wilson felt his face heat up a bit. They never really touched unless it was necessary (which it rarely was), and just examining the affected area was making Wilson blush like a schoolgirl. He hoped it wasn't showing too much.

It totally was, and House was internally smirking at that fact. He was already doing phase two of his experiment without even meaning to and it was helping his hypothesis along. Just from touching his friend, his pulse was a bit higher than if he was coming down from a fright, which worked just fine for the diagnostician. With a bit of effort to make himself look drowsy, House got up from the couch with a quick 'good night' and headed back to his room to record the information in his head, and calculate what Wilson's base pulse was from the two different pulses he took.