The next night saw House and Wilson claiming their usual spots on the couch in House's apartment, pizza and beer at the ready and a night of back-to-back-to-back Monster Truck rallies about to begin. House had been looking forward to this all week. He had barely seen Wilson, between his own early-onset Alzheimer's patient and trying to win the bet on Asexual Girl. House had missed these evenings with his best friend while he had been in prison and had thought about them often as a way to allow his mind to escape the confines of his cell.
Wilson settled back into the middle of the couch, more comfortable there in House's apartment than almost anywhere else. He would never admit to House how much he'd missed these evenings, even though it meant having to pretend to enjoy watching Monster Trucks while House acted like an overexcited 8 year old. It was still time well spent with his best friend in comfortable camaraderie. He passed a slice of pizza on a paper plate over to House, taking a bottle of beer from him in return.
House relaxed into the well-worn corner of the couch that he usually occupied. As he supported his right thigh and crossed his feet on the coffee table, he felt the ankle monitor chafe, a constant reminder of the electronic tether that currently ruled his life. He refused to let it get In the way of getting the answers he needed for his diagnostic puzzles, which usually resulted in a ride back to the hospital from Princeton PD, much to the annoyance of his former fellow and current boss, Dr. Eric Foreman.
House and Wilson watched Monster Trucks deep into the night. The pizza and beer gone, they enjoyed the buzz and each other's company, talking about whatever happened to come to mind while House threw sarcasm bombs at any truck that wasn't Gravedigger. Stretching his long torso after a couple hours of sitting in one place, House's left arm came to rest on the back of the couch almost close enough to touch Wilson's shoulder. It wasn't a conscious move, just something he did to keep his body from getting stiff.
Wilson eventually fell asleep where he sat, his upper body toppling over until his head came to rest on House's chest. Mildly taken aback at the intimacy of the contact, House looked down at Wilson, an odd but not unwelcome warmth making its way into his body. House was effectively trapped in place in a rather awkward position.
"Wilson." House poked at Wilson's shoulder. "Wilson." He said a bit louder as he poked at his friend's shoulder again.
Wilson settled in closer, snuggling into House's body and draping his left arm across House's abdomen. House felt a fleeting moment of panic and a desperate need to get up and pace as his brain went into overdrive. Then he began to wonder if maybe the universe was realigning itself again...