No Homo
Wilson wasn't gay, but House was attractive.
His tall stature and proportional build caught the eye of most people. Even his face looked sculpted, although not in the traditional sense. His cheekbones were prominent, his nose perfectly curved. His hair was almost always a mess, his beard scruffy, but it all fit into his nonchalant personality. He didn't care about his appearance and he wore that outlook like a tailored suit.
And his eyes. God, those eyes. On more than one occasion, Wilson found himself losing his focus and stopping a conversation mid-sentence, caught up in that piercing blue gaze. He would never tell House, but the man's eyes were his best feature and probably the reason he got laid as often as he did.
Wilson stood next to House's bed, watching as the man fiddled with a tie in front of the mirror, getting ready for a date. "What if she doesn't like me?" he whined in a typical, high-pitched voice that could be found on most teenagers. "What if she thinks I'm ugly?"
"Nonsense," said Wilson, looking down at all the dirty clothes littered around House's room. "You're a good-looking guy, House. Handsome, even. I doubt anyone could find you ugly." His words came out automatically. When what he had said sunk in, Wilson looked up, terrified. House stared at him through the mirror, eyebrows raised. Thinking quickly, Wilson said the only thing he could that might diffuse the tension.
"No homo."
It was a petty, insecure phrase that pathetic people used whenever they weren't confident enough in their heterosexuality to compliment someone of the same sex. And right now, Wilson supposed he was one of those people.
House went back to tying his tie. "I suppose you're right, Jimmy. How could a woman not love this face?" He flashed a smile and finished straightening out his clothes. He glanced at his watch. "Looks like it's time for me to leave. I don't want to be late, do I?"
Relief washed through Wilson that House hadn't touched the subject of his compliments. "No, you don't," he said, thinking about House's previous record of attendance and how much it pissed off some of his former dates.
"Well, I'm off." House shrugged on his coat and grabbed his cane. "I'll see you tomorrow." He headed for the bedroom door, but paused in front of Wilson. They stood too close to be considered normal, House's face only mere inches away from Wilson's. Wilson instinctively glanced down at House's lips and then up to his eyes. Those blue eyes.
"For what it's worth, James, you're not too bad yourself," said House in a low, husky voice that made a chill run up Wilson's spine. House held his gaze for a moment, but then his face broke out into a smirk. Without another word, he turned around and left.
Wilson waited to hear "no homo" called from the living room, or for House to come back and laugh at him. Even after the front door shut, even after he knew he was alone in the apartment, he waited.
But all that met him was silence.
The End