Wilson caught the helmet thrown to, or more likely, at him. "Where are we going?" Wilson stared at the diagnostician. "Someplace…quiet…" Romantic….yeah that would really fly with House. He shook his head. "You pick" House smirked. "Somewhere expensive, got it." Wilsoan watched as House jumped on his bike, an ugly orange thing, he carefully got on behind House, wrapping his arms around the older man, feeling more than a little self-conscious. "Hold on tight, and don't try to talk." He said a little louder than needed. Wilson nodded, " I have been on one of these things before…" House started the bike and revved the engine, as if showing off to some invisible crowd, the way a knight did when he married his fair maiden…or was that rescue…Wilson smiled to himself. This was going to be a good trip.
House felt the oncologist's strong arms tight around his waist. He quickly accelerated, getting away from the hospital and onto the highway. Now, he was free to his thoughts. Hmm, why did Wilson ask him to dinner…? Maybe he needed something…money? No…He knew Wilson had just gone through a particularly nasty divorce, maybe he was lonely…After all, House was his best friend, that would explain it. House sighed, somewhat dissapointed, of course, Wilson wanted to talk, he was heartbroken. Again. Still, House was really hoping…but that would never be a reality. Ever. He stared at the open road, thinking of where he would take them for dinner. A nice quiet, romantic french restaurant? Yes. He knew just the place. Pierre's Fine Dining. Perfect. He felt the younger doctors head resting on his shoulder, it felt almost intimate. House's heart swelled. He knew it shouldn't, but he couldn't help it. He was truly happy right now.
Resting his head on House's shoulder, Wilson closed his eyes and imagined they were at House's apartment…a romantic night alone. Wilson admitting shakily, He loved House. House miraculously returning the sentiments tenfold. He took a deep breath, inhaling House's smell of Peach-Pineapple-Peppermint cologne. An eccentric scent for an eccentric doctor. Wilson personally thought House had made the concoction himself, but he had no proof. He thought of dinner. What had possesed him to do that? He was sure he would regret it. House would probably take him to some loud roadside bar. So much for intimacy. He wished he could know how House felt, just enough so he could admit his secret. One day… he would tell his best friend. That friendship simply wasn't enough anymore.
OKAY
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