A/N: Given the fact that the show is titled House M.D., it seemed rather redundant to list him as the main character. However, the pairing is NOT Wilson/Chase. I thought I should get this story out before Season 5 actually starts, so it might not fit the canon. Please read and review, and do note that I'm saving the better lemons for later...when I'm not forced to write at 1 AM, sleep deprived by loud neighbours. This story is based on the following two lines found in Season 5 promos.

"I have the right to walk away from you House." – Wilson

"Please, don't do this." – Wilson

Price

Wilson sighed as he looked around the apartment. There wasn't much left. Most of what he had was in storage – and everything he cleared from his office had been added. He wasn't sure where he would be going, but he knew it would be far from Princeton Plainsboro Teaching Hospital. Far from House.

Wilson's heart clenched as he thought about House. House, the world-renowned diagnostician. House, his best friend for nearly twenty years. House…the murderer of Amber.

Wilson frowned slightly as he rethought that statement. House wasn't a murderer per se, and he wasn't exactly to blame. However, Wilson still couldn't identify this feeling.

He had felt love towards House; he had also felt affection, anger, annoyance, and a myriad of other emotions…but never this. This only came when he thought about Amber and House in the same sentence.

Yes, his girlfriend was dead. His girlfriend – who was the perfect image of a female House. But during the fiasco, he was still more concerned about the state of House. He had tried to cover that up by insisting that Amber remained cold. When House had offered deep brain stimulation, he had been appalled…and touched all the same.

House, the proud, egotistic, megalomaniacal ass had allowed Wilson to shock and fry his brain to help him recover the memories of the previous night. All to save Amber. House was never self-sacrificing. It didn't matter that it was a thinly-veiled attempt to throw away his life again, but what matters is that he was willing to do it for Wilson's sake.

Wilson had hated himself all over when he did find out what was wrong with Amber. It sickened him as he realized two things: upon her death, was when he had actually begun loving her and House was back in a coma-like state for him.

Looking back, Amber had truly been a female version of House. Proud, strong, always right…except she was attainable. And Wilson had loved her for the similarities, including the way she bossed him around. He had never let it slip why he was so infatuated, and for that, he was glad. Except, it seemed that she knew when she died. He sighed as he realized that he needed someone else to fill the House-shaped gap inside him.

Wilson winced. The girl – his girlfriend, had just died and all he could care about was finding someone to replace House – who is still alive! Apparently even the love that came too late, wasn't strong enough to prevail over his love for House.

As if hearing his thoughts, the doorbell rang. Wilson has to will himself not to open the door. He knew who was there and trepidation filled him…along with a bleak hope. Maybe now, his one dream could be realized.

"Wilson! I know you're in there. Open the door," House's voice was calm.

A moment passes by. Two.

"I have a key…" House trails off.

Wilson sighs as he moves to follow House's command. He opens the door just barely. He could do this…he could finally tell House that he was leaving.

"I…"

"You're being an idiot!"

"Geez, House, I don't know why I so disinclined towards opening the door, especially when I knew that this would be the kind of attitude that I would be receiving."

House glared at him…and Wilson couldn't breathe. There was something there in those brilliant, blue eyes that was never there before and it scared him.

"I'm doing it, aren't I? Doing what you've always wanted?"

"It doesn't matter to me that you're trying to cut back on Vicodin. You can stone yourself to death. It doesn't matter. I have the right to walk away from you, House," Wilson stated firmly, yet resigned. He didn't want to slam the door on House's fingers, yet.

"What are you so afraid of?"

"What do you mean?"

Wilson felt cold all over. House couldn't know…House couldn't possibly know. Not after he'd denied it before…not after he'd blatantly joked around about it. Not to him.

"What are you afraid of, James?"

His name alone, spoken by House, was nearly enough to break his resolve.

"Please, don't do this," Wilson pleaded, trying to come off as being sick and tired of it all. He knew House was smart enough to figure it out…but he couldn't have that. Couldn't have House finding out the reason why.

"No. You want something for me. That's the only reason you're leaving now. That's the only reason you've fought with me so long…stayed with me so long. What do you want?"

House's eyes blazed. Wilson's breath hitched slightly as he recognized the determination in his best friend's eyes. His best friend still, despite what he had previously said.

"I want nothing that you could ever give me, House," Wilson sneered. Softly, to himself, Wilson had to reiterate, "I have the right to walk away from you House."

"That's not why you're doing this! That's not why you're doing any of this! You have my attention now, so go! Tell me what it is that you want. Tell me what your price for staying is."

"Why is everything always about you? My girlfriend just died!"

"That's not what this is about," House insisted, eyes frosting over. "Everybody lies, Wilson. Tell me exactly what this tantrum of yours is about. What is your price for staying?"

Wilson paused. He couldn't decide. Could he risk everything for this? He was still part of the equation too. No, Wilson could play his cards right. This would just be like another game of poker, only, he's got the pocket aces.

"I want," Wilson deliberately paused here. "I want the same thing Cameron wanted..."

"You want Chase? I'm not very keen on lending out my wombat but –"

"Shut up, House! You wanted to know what I want, didn't you?" Wilson's own eyes were hardening, maybe this had been a bad idea. "I want the exact same as Cameron but I want more. I want a date followed by sex…with you."

"Wilson…" House's tone was annoyed as he trailed off. "That's not what you want."

"Well, according to you, everybody lies. It's human nature. Therefore, wouldn't it also be in human nature to be polygamous?" riposted Wilson, annoyed. "He doesn't have to know."

House had no ready comeback for such a comment; he could only blink in surprise. How had Wilson been able to turn the conversation around so fast that even House had to give pause to be able to understand the jump?

"That's my price for staying, House. Take it or leave it," stated Wilson softly. "After its occurrence, we will never speak of it again and I'll be staying."

"Wilson, despite what you may think, I am capable of being serious. This is not -"

"Take it or leave it. You can call me later if you wish…otherwise, I leave in three days."

"I'll take it."

Wilson blinked in surprise.

"If that's your price, I'll take it. But we will never speak of it again. I'll see you on Friday."

With that, House walked off.

Wilson gently closed the door. Sighing in relief, he sank down to the floor, breathing shallowly. He couldn't believe he had just done that. No, more than that, he couldn't believe that House agreed. Maybe...just maybe, Wilson meant a little more to House than he was willing to let on?


House slammed the door behind him and leaned against it harshly. How had it come to this? He had realized that Wilson had wanted something from him, but he had never imagined this. He slowly inhaled and exhaled. He could also hear the soft padding of footsteps.

"There you are," a distinctive Australian voice stated softly. "I'll get the food out of the oven."

The owner of the silken voice came closer.

"House…are you okay? How did your talk with Wilson go?"

With a powerful hand movement, House grabbed him by the shoulders and crushed their bodies together. Staying still for a minute, House greedily drank in the scent of Chase. Without giving Chase time to fully understand what was happening, House kissed him.

"Bed," House growled huskily. The aftermath of the conversation finally hitting him. "Now."

"But the food…" Chase tried to protest.

"Fuck the food," House snarled. "Bed. Now."

Hardly giving the clothes the time of day, House ripped it all from his boyfriend's shoulders.

"Clothes do cost money you know," Chase stated, trying to sound peeved even though House's tongue was doing wonderful things to his areola.

"The ones you wear should be burned. The way I'm looking at it, I'm doing you a favour."

Chase stopped trying to talk as he felt dexterous hands yank his pants off and shove their hands in. He shivered slightly as he felt a warm hand on his cock and the other stroking his hip. The skin there was extremely sensitive.

House's kisses were aggressive, invasive, and demanding as he pulled a compliant Chase to the bedroom; his own clothes were lost along the way. Pushing him onto the bed, House looked at him once and then pounced. Chase groaned loudly as House brutally assaulted his neck and collarbone.

All at once, the kisses turned soft, almost apologetic. And House met him in an open mouthed kiss.

Chase whimpered as he pulled House's head off to breathe, and promptly reattached their mouths together and began to fumble around for lube. Gods, this kind of kissing could make him hornier than a teenager in seconds. There was always something about open mouth kissing with House that got to him this way. It was nice, it was sweet, and it was utterly addictive.

Finding what he was searching for, Chase flipped the cap – and the two of them, in one swift motion. Squirting a decent amount onto his palm, he quickly spread it and lubed House's erection – his own was straining for release. He let out a moan as he impaled himself. No matter how often this happened, he still had to adjust to the wonderful thickness that House provided. Remembering himself, Chase tilted slightly so that he was balancing himself and keeping all the off House's right leg.

House growled impatiently and Chase shifted. Shuddering as he felt tiny nerve endings get set on fire, he could only hover still for a minute. Without another prompt, Chase began to methodically ride House.

House grabbed his hair forcefully and pulled him down for a kiss. Chase happily obliged. This was better than getting drunk! Chase moaned loudly as a talented hand wrapped around his arousal. It was utter bliss.

House rubbed the head lightly and he shoved full force into Chase, striking his prostate dead on. Chase let out a strangled gasp as he stilled for less than a second before spasming wildly as he came. House groaned softly as he too released into his lover's tight channel.

Lying still for about two seconds, House began to lightly stroke Chase's hip, driving him crazy.

"Are you going to tell me what's wrong or are you going to continue being a horny bastard?" asked Chase exasperated. He could already feel his body reacting to the stimulus.

"Wilson and I, struck a deal," House whispered hoarsely into the soft, blond strands of hair. "I…on Friday, I'm taking him out on a date…and we're going to have sex."