Hey, I'm sure it's been done before, but I had some inspiration for it, so give me a break. Characters aren't mine.

Love, love is a verb

Love is a doing word

Fearless on my breath

House knows he does. How could he not do? The word creeps into his mind and he just does. The word comes up in conversation, as it often seems to in a hospital ("We have to get permission from the 'loved ones.'" "I'm sure the next-of-kin really 'loves' the patient." etc.), and House immediately knows he does.

House also knows that, despite the fact that he can't deny that he does, no one else will ever believe it. But that doesn't matter. House knows he might be many horrible things as a person, but he is not a coward.

Gentle impulsion

Shakes me, makes me lighter

Fearless on my breath

Teardrop on the fire

Fearless on my breath

House limps determinedly toward Wilson's office. It'd been nagging him ever since he knew, a pulsating piece of unused knowledge making the back of his mind throb. So House limps determinedly toward Wilson's office, to take care of it.

House's heart races, and he can practically feel the adrenaline thickening his blood. He's light-headed with nerves, and he can't remember the last time he felt like this; sick to his stomach with dread, and yet so excited that backing out is not even an option. Maybe the last time was the first time he and Stacey slept together. Maybe it was sooner than that. Maybe House just wants it to go away and maybe he's missed it. He can't decide. Either way, it doesn't matter. Gregory House is not a coward. Gregory House follows through with his plans. Gregory House is fearless.

And in the same way that House knows he does, he also knows that none of that nonsense is true. Right now, he's terrified. Right now, he's seriously considering forgetting about it – again – and letting it just stay that throbbing thought in the back of his head. But of all the things Gregory House is, he is not a coward. So House limps determinedly toward Wilson's office.

What House is most afraid of isn't that Wilson won't say it back. It isn't that Wilson will say it back, either. It isn't even that Wilson will be disgusted and stop being House's friend all together. What House is most afraid of is that Wilson will take it for the wrong meaning. House hears Cameron and Cuddy tell their friends they love them, cheerful and with little meaning, and even Chase has done it a few times. House is afraid that Wilson will take it like that and say it back like that. If that were to happen, House knew he'd probably need a few antidepressants to go along with his Vicodin. That would be like telling a starving man you're having a buffet party, complete with an excellent surf-and-turf, and he's not invited, so sorry. House knows he won't be able to stand it if that happens.

Night light of matter

Black flowers blossom

Fearless on my breath

Black flowers blossom

Fearless on my breath

Teardrop on the fire

Fearless on my

House stands outside of Wilson's office, leaning on his cane. The door is closed, but the light is on and shining out into the not-as-bright hallway. It was almost time for a late dinner, and House was supposed to have kidnapped Wilson from his office fifteen-or-so minutes ago (if it weren't for House, Wilson will slave away to nothing over paperwork and forget to eat). House considers leaving him there, letting him miss out on food and sleep for one night as punishment for sparking throbbing thoughts that caused throbbing headaches. But Wilson's light gives House strength, even as House hates the fact that he's taking strength from something so incredibly artificial.

House stalls a while longer outside Wilson's office, imagining what it will be like when he finally gets the words out, when Wilson knows House does. Sometimes House wishes he didn't, but he's not a coward and he doesn't back down. This is just another mystery, another problem to solve, another cure to figure out. How to get the throbbing to stop? He'd have to test all of his theories, one by one. And the first was to tell Wilson.

House limped forward and pushed open Wilson's office door, striding in like he owned the place, like always. House avoided Wilson's eyes for no more than two seconds, making sure not to seem out-of-sorts, despite the throbbing thoughts and the theories chasing each other round and round his head. He is a bastard, yes, and all of those other nasty names people love to call him, but he is not –

"I love you," House says bluntly. House is not a coward, and he was never one to beat around the bush.

Water is my eye

Most faithful my love

Fearless on my breath

Teardrop on the fire

Of a confession

Fearless on my breath

There, House thought. There, he said it. He'd told. He tried to pretend he wasn't afraid of the look Wilson was giving him. That look of pure shock that Wilson sometimes gave House at some of House's most risky ways to find out what's wrong with a patient. House dislikes it when Wilson gives him that look during work. He hates it now. His eyes sting. He can't remember the last time that happened, either. Can't have been any later than junior high school, at the latest. Gregory House does not cry. Gregory House is not even capable.

"You what?" Wilson asks. It's that tone Wilson uses when he thinks he's being lied to. House recognizes it right off the bat – he should, it's been used on him enough times. House pretends not to flinch.

"I love you." House repeats his confession firmly. The confession that's been bugging him in the back of his head for ages, the confession priests can't help you with 'cause praying won't get rid of it, the confession people aren't afraid to make 'cause they all think it's a good thing, the one confession that hurts more to voice than any other confession House has ever had to attempt. But House is not a coward, and he doesn't back down. House is tolerant to pain, he'll deal with it.

Most faithful my love

Fearless on my breath

Teardrop on the fire

Fearless on my breath

Wilson's smile makes all the pain House is preparing to deal with go away, though. House wonders, in that moment and that moment only, why he wastes his time with Vicodin when he could just make Wilson smile. He'd save a shit-load of money and hassle that way.

"I thought you'd never say," Wilson murmurs, his grin widening, and House's breath catches. He can't remember the last time that happened either. Even his recent escapades with Stacey didn't make his breath catch. There were gasps and moans, yes, but never did his breath hitch or catch or stutter or stop all together for a second-long forever. He wonders since when Wilson' started affecting him so much. He wonders if maybe it was since always.

"I love you, too, Greg," Wilson almost purrs. House's expression doesn't change, there's not visible smile. But his eyes seem to brighten and sparkle, and the usually unnoticeable crow's feet at the corners of his eyes crinkle up of their own accord. No, House is not a coward – and every time he proves it, it's worth it.

You're stumbling a little

Wilson drives them to House's place, and they don't bother with their late dinner. They don't really bother with much of anything. On the way to House's bedroom, they can't decide who's leading the way and they trip over each other. It's bad for House's leg, but he doesn't notice. He lost his cane somewhere near the door.

They laugh at themselves as they fall with a soft thump on House's bed, and then they don't laugh anymore. Then House's breath catches and hitches and stutters and stops all together for second-long forevers. And he can feel it. He can feel Wilson sticking out his foot in House's way to send him the last little way. House stumbles, trips, and falls. Falls for Wilson.

House is in love.

You're stumbling a little