A/N: I wrote this in response to all the awkward House/Wilson I read all the time. I just decided that there had to be another way to do that. Thank you all for the positive response so far. I am sorry about the long wait, I have been SOOOOO busy lately. I will have a little time coming up so expect an 11th chapter not too far behind. IF YOU WANT TO READ MORE OF THIS STORY: review this portion.
A few weeks passed of the same routine, more like a comfortable mixture of friends and siblings than a couple. Everyone heard about Wilson moving in at House's. Most people liked Dr. Wilson, there were glad he did not have to live in a hotel anymore.
Even if it meant moving in with Dr. House permanently. People had it on good authority that the move was permanent; Dr. Chase and Dr. Foreman had been summoned to move in the new sleeper sofa and wardrobe. Sofa in the living room, wardrobe in the bedroom... where there was more space. Of course.
What no one knew was that the wardrobe was in the bedroom because Wilson was in the bedroom, nine nights out of ten anyway. The new sofa was just for nights when they, when House, wanted to space.
Wilson assumed House spent these nights with a Penthouse or something dirtier, handling his sexual frustration alone. Some of those nights he would be right. But most of the time House said he needed a night alone it was so he could sort out his slowly building sexual feelings for Wilson.
He hadn't talked about the feelings since the night with the pager. He figured the opportune interruption was a sign that the time was not right. But that night, and almost every night for a month since, they would go to bed, House would lay on his stomach and throw an arm across Wilson's chest.
Wilson would usually hold onto House's arm until sleep slackened his grip and then House would turn his back to the other man, his erection only subsiding as the pressure of Wilson's touch faded away.
Things were still as casual as ever; House hid his feelings like a pro. So did Wilson, because if House had ever asked he would have discovered that every morning before he was awake, Wilson lay there watching his back, his shoulder move and trying not to touch himself, and the arousal he'd discovered just a week or two before.