Thank you all once again for your reviews and such. It's nice to see so many people supporting this story. Once again, don't own 'em, just the O/Cs.
# # #
Wilson had just gotten settled in on his couch with a book when he heard a familiar knock at the door. Groaning, he rolled off his couch to answer. He was in no mood for any of House's usual antics tonight.
"House, if you think…" Wilson stopped short when he saw House standing there, a serious expression on his face and a bag of take out in his hand. He automatically reached to his back pocket, checking that his wallet was still safely tucked away. "What's that?"
House rolled his eyes. "Stopped by the Thai place on my way home. Thought you might want some." He fixed Wilson with a steady gaze. "If you don't want it…"
"No, no…it's fine. Come in." Wilson was confused by this turn of events. In all the years he had known House, he had never known him to pay for anything, never mind bring it to his place. Something was up, it had to be.
House pushed past Wilson and dropped the bag on the coffee table, revealing a six-pack of beer. Wilson's eyebrows shot up as House pulled out two beers and lumbered off to the kitchen to put away the others. Food and beer? Something was definitely funny here.
He folded his arms over his chest as House returned from the kitchen. House stopped mid-stride, an unreadable expression on his face. "What?"
"Food and beer? What's going on?"
House shrugged. "I was hungry. Figured you would be, too. I also figured you wouldn't bother to make anything for yourself."
"How do you know I don't already have a delivery order coming?"
"Seriously?" House rolled his eyes as he crossed the room to plop onto the couch. "I didn't just meet you yesterday, you know."
House had a point, Wilson had to concede that. He sat down next to House, and the two proceeded to unpack the bag, finding the chopsticks and opening containers. Wilson's stomach rumbled, and House regarded him with an arched eyebrow. Wilson simply shrugged and pushed a button on the remote.
Spanish dialogue spilled out of the speaker, and House broke out into a grin. "Still watching this crap?"
"Yes." Wilson mumbled through a mouthful of noodles. "You wouldn't believe how much my Spanish has improved."
"And you've got the nerve to rag on me for my soap operas."
Wilson glared at House. "At least I haven't kidnapped any of the actors from my telenovella."
"Only because they're all the way in Mexico." House stirred up his fried rice thoughtfully, giving Wilson a sideways glance.
Wilson could feel House's eyes on him. Given recent developments, it made him vaguely uncomfortable. He sighed patiently and turned to look at House. "Something you want?"
House swallowed the bite he had in his mouth, not sure what to say. "I'm not hitting on you, if that's what you think."
Wilson rolled his eyes in exasperation. "Kind of figured that. So…?"
House set down his container and stood to pace around the room. Why was this suddenly so damned difficult? All he wanted to do was show a little appreciation. It shouldn't be so hard. He scrubbed his hand over his closely cropped hair, finally turning to Wilson.
"You've been a damn good friend to me." He finally started. "I can't figure out why, seeing as I've treated you like shit for most of our friendship." House huffed and leaned hard on his cane. "Seems like all I've ever done is taken from you. Maybe…maybe it's time for me to give you a little something back."
A slow smile crept onto Wilson's face. This was more like the House he knew, if a slightly improved version. "So…you're thanking me. Sort of."
"I guess." House shrugged. "Things have been kind of weird since…you know. The boy."
Wilson nodded. It seemed like they were going to pick up the thread of their aborted conversation from the other night. "Anthony. Yeah." He took a long drink of his beer before leaning back against the couch. "Talked to him a little today. He seems like a decent enough guy."
"Glad you approve." House snarked as he slowly made his way back to the couch, picking up his container once again.
They were briefly silent. Finally, Wilson's curiosity got the better of him. "I've just got to know…what changed?"
"Oh for God's sake." House placed his container on the coffee table with a loud thump. "Do we have to talk about this?!"
"I do, House." Wilson leaned forward, setting his container next to House's. "I mean, all these years you've chased after Cuddy, and now…"
"It never would have worked between me and Cuddy." House spoke quietly, looking down at the floor. "Yeah, screwing the boss would have been exciting for a while, but…I would have broken her heart. She deserves better."
"You don't think you could give her what she needs." Wilson carefully studied House.
"I know I can't." House leaned back against the couch, letting his neck arch over the back. "That kid of hers needs a dad, and Cuddy needs a guy who can be there for both of them. I'm not that guy. Never have been, never will be."
"I don't believe you." Wilson's voice dropped to match the volume of House's. "I saw how you were with Anthony. You're capable of being 'that guy'."
"Yeah…about that." House twisted his fingers together, a slow smirk growing on his face. "Bet that's got you all kinds of curious."
"It does." Wilson admitted. "That's a pretty major switch. Did I miss something?"
House's eyes crinkled in something like amusement. "Nah. I'm just damn good at hiding stuff."
"Tell me something I don't know."
"Anyway…" House glared over at Wilson. "When I was in…you know…we got to talking about the Cuddy thing. That led to other things, and we started talking about my thing for guys."
Wilson's eyebrows shot up. "That's one hell of a leap."
"Yeah, yeah. I know." House leaned forward and picked up his beer, taking a long drink. "You still want to know the answer to the fifty thousand dollar question?"
"Not really." Wilson took another pull from his beer. "I'd rather know what made you decide to go for Anthony."
"Don't know, exactly." House's eyes crinkled up slightly. "This is the part where I spout off some bullshit about opening myself up to possibilities, blah, blah, blah, right?"
"Or not." Wilson shrugged. "Up to you."
House took a deep breath, puffing out his cheeks. His expression turned suddenly serious. "You know the crazy thing about all this?"
"Aside from the obvious?"
House snorted. "Yeah." He picked at the label on the beer bottle, finally lifting his head to meet Wilson's eyes. "Being with him…it just feels…right. I don't know how else to explain it."
Wilson nodded. "Guess that's all that really matters, then."
"You really think so?" House's voice turned soft, almost as if he was seeking approval.
Wilson thought about this for a moment. "Yes, I really think so."
House nodded slowly, his mouth quirking in a small grin. "Just for the record…You were pretty damn cute. You know, way back when."
Wilson scrunched his eyebrows together, baffled by the sudden change in subject. "You never let on. Why?"
House shrugged. "Having you as a friend was more important. Still is."
"I'm touched…I think."
"Good." House leaned back and set his feet on the coffee table. "Now…what the hell is that guy saying to her?"
Wilson gave House a funny look before diving into an explanation of the plot. Leave it to House to drop a big bomb like that and keep on rolling. On the other hand…it was good to know that the core of their friendship really hadn't changed at all. Wilson suddenly felt a whole lot better about things. He even believed that House could be 'that guy' for Anthony. It seemed to him he was already headed that way anyway.
# # #
The chiming phone in House's pocket startled him awake. He looked around, blinking, realizing he was still on Wilson's couch. His best friend was at the other end, head tilted back, snoring lightly. House dug his phone out of his pocket and flipped it open.
"House."
"Hey you." House recognized Anthony's gentle voice almost immediately.
"Hey yourself." House grinned, checking his watch. "Kind of late for you to be up, isn't it?"
"Couldn't sleep." Anthony shrugged on the other end. "You ever manage to track down Wilson?"
"Yeah." House rose from the couch to make his way as quietly as he could to the kitchen. "Still here, matter of fact."
"Good." Anthony smiled at House's hushed tone.
"Yeah." House drummed his fingers on the counter. "We…had a good talk. Weird, but good. I think he's kind of cool with…whatever this is."
Anthony laughed at House's assessment of their relationship. "Simon's okay with it, too."
"That's good to know." House fell silent, not sure what to say next.
"Well…it's late. I should go." Anthony ventured hesitantly.
"Yeah. Me too." House paced around the kitchen. "Night, Tony."
"Night, Greg."
House closed his phone, turning it over in his hands. "Miss you, you idiot." He said softly.
"You say something, House?" Wilson's sleepy voice carried into the kitchen, and he appeared in the entryway, rubbing the back of his neck.
House's head snapped up at the sound of Wilson's voice, shoving the phone in his pocket. "Nah. Think I'm going to head home."
"Okay." Wilson stepped aside as House pushed through to the living room. He leaned against the entryway, watching his friend shove his feet into shoes and tug his jacket on.
"House?"
"Yeah?"
Wilson crossed the room, standing in front of House, finally daring to place a hand on his shoulder. "Thanks."
House seemed to squirm slightly, but didn't pull away. Instead he simply nodded firmly and turned to leave. He seemed to pause before turning the doorknob, a small smile creeping over his face. Finally he shook his head, opening the door and leaving.
Wilson chuckled slightly as he cleaned up and put away leftovers. Even now, it always amazed him how House could say so much without saying much at all. It had been good to see him, good to connect with him. Wilson was amazed at the way House had simply opened up to him, with barely any prodding. He wondered how much Anthony had to do with the whole thing. If that was the case…Wilson definitely gave their relationship his blessing.
# # #
House lay in his bed, but sleep refused to come. He kept turning over his conversation with Wilson in his mind, still surprised at how open he had been with his best friend. The whole thing could have turned out differently, House knew that for certain.
It wasn't as if House needed Wilson's approval, but he had definitely wanted it. House huffed and turned over on his side, irritated with his insecurity. The simple fact was, Wilson's opinion on things mattered greatly, and if he had somehow disapproved of what he had with Anthony…well, he didn't know what that would have meant.
Fortunately, it didn't seem like he'd have to find out anytime soon. House smiled a little to himself, turning over on his back. Eventually, if things kept going the way they were…somehow his mom would enter the picture. House groaned at the thought. Maybe she'd be so thrilled that he finally had someone in his life that she wouldn't worry about whether that someone was male or female.
Somehow House didn't see that happening, though. He scowled at the thought. Even thought his father was long gone, his influence was still evident in his dealings with his mother. There were times he swore the woman was channeling the old man on those rare occasions when House did speak to her.
House's phone vibrated on the bedside table, breaking him out of his train of thought. He reached over and flipped it open, laying back on the bed.
"House."
"Me again."
House chuckled. "You must be bored shitless there if you keep bugging me."
Anthony laughed softly in response. "Funny thing happened to me earlier."
"Really? Do tell."
"Well…I was digging through my bag today, and I saw you brought up my clothes. I appreciate that, by the way."
House shrugged. "No problem. Figured you might want them."
"One thing that struck me as odd, though…" Anthony grinned at the other end of the phone. "…I don't recall having a black t-shirt."
"Really?" House's voice took on a tone of mock innocence. "I must have mixed things up. It was kind of one big pile…"
"Ha, ha, ha." Anthony turned the shirt over in his hands, stroking the worn material affectionately. "I kind of like it. I might keep it."
"I don't know about all that…" House growled, reaching over for the green polo shirt he had tossed aside earlier. "Unless, of course, you don't want this green monstrosity back."
Anthony's face broke out into a wide grin. "Hey…my mom bought that for me. Of course I want it back."
House chuckled, a hint of evil slipping in. "Maybe I'll just hold it hostage until…" His voice took on a softer tone as he felt the material between his fingers. "…until I see you again."
Anthony's grin faded, replaced by a slightly serious expression. "Maybe I'll do the same."
House was silent, and Anthony thought he had hung up on him. "Greg?"
"Yeah, still here." House shifted slightly. "Just thinking. It's a good thing we're not terrorists. We'd suck at the whole hostage taking thing."
"Tell me about it." Anthony couldn't help but laugh at House's comment as he held the worn t-shirt to his nose, inhaling House's woodsy scent, blended with his own personal scent. "So…see you around?"
"Yeah." House could still smell Anthony's crisp scent emanating from the polo shirt. "I'll be around."
"Night, Greg."
"Night, Tony." House huffed. "Miss you." He mumbled.
Anthony couldn't quite believe what he heard. His lips curved up in a small smile. "I miss you, too. See you soon."
"Yeah." House quickly snapped his phone closed, cursing himself for his show of vulnerability. Emotional exposure just wasn't his thing, and he'd been exposing himself in spades recently. It was frightening.
That didn't mean he wasn't looking forward to seeing Anthony at some point tomorrow. House turned over to his side, glancing at the empty side of the bed, curling the shirt in to his chest, the oddly comforting scent finally allowing him to relax as he drifted off.
# # #
Cuddy noticed House stride through the lobby from her vantage point in the clinic. She picked up the case file and quickly moved to intercept him, her heels clicking on the tile floor.
House smelled her before he saw her, and turned to see Cuddy barreling toward him, a small smile on her face and a file in her hand. He raised his eyebrows and glanced down.
"Present for me?"
"32-year-old female presents with dizziness, intestinal distress, and vomiting."
House rolled his eyes. "Give her a pregnancy test and send her packing. Next?"
"Pregnancy test was negative." Cuddy smirked and slapped the file in his hand.
A light seemed to spark in House's blue eyes. Now he had something. He took the file, but Cuddy didn't let it go.
House frowned and tugged harder. "You know, if you want me to work…"
"We need to talk." Cuddy looked at him with intense blue-gray eyes.
"There's nothing to talk about." House told her curtly, finally tugging the file out her hand. "Now, if you don't mind…I have work for the minions to do."
The elevator doors opened, and House stepped on, Cuddy following directly behind him. House fixed her with a scathing glare. "You know, you're my third stalker this week. Not that I'm counting."
Cuddy took a deep breath, taking in the man that stood next to her. He had been a part of her life off and on for the better part of twenty years. Odd, then, that she never really knew this part of him. She vaguely remembered hearing rumors when she was at Michigan, but she mostly dismissed them then.
She wondered what had changed. Not that she wanted to pursue a relationship with House, necessarily, but…even at his most irritating, his most frustrating, Cuddy enjoyed their verbal sparring on some level. The way those blue eyes flashed when he argued with her over some insane test he wanted to do, the way he paced around her office as he ranted, even his scent when he leaned over her desk with some snarky comment about her chest…it was sexy, Cuddy couldn't deny that.
"Cat got your tongue?" That familiar voice snapped her out of her reverie. House was still glaring at her, waiting for a response.
Cuddy shook her head, smiling sweetly. "No, House." The elevator doors opened on the third floor, and Cuddy stepped off, turning to face House. "You're right. There's nothing to talk about."
She turned to walk away, and House tilted his head, watching her hips sway slightly as she did so. As the doors closed, he suddenly made a loud sound like a truck backing up.
"Forgot to put your 'Wide Load' sign on this morning, Cuddy?"
A smile curled Cuddy's lips as House's words reached her ears. House, in his own way, had let her know that all was right with the world. It was reassuring, in a very odd way. She glanced back briefly, seeing a ghost of a smirk on House's face, those blue eyes glinting in that familiar way.
Cuddy decided it was better this way. Trying to pursue a relationship with the man would have been impossible, no matter how it went. This way, both of them could maintain their lives and their jobs with their pride intact. No lines crossed, no lines so much as blurred.
House smirked to himself at Cuddy's reaction. She was still hot, no question, but definitely someone better admired from afar. There would be ample opportunity to check out her ample assets…later. Right now, he had a case to present and minions to harass.
# # #
Okay, here's where I hand it over to all of you. Push the green button and give me your thoughts. :)
