II. In Despair – Constantine Cavafy
He lost him completely. And he now tries to find
his lips in the lips of each new lover,
he tries in the union with each new lover
to convince himself that it's the same young man,
that it's to him he gives himself.
He lost him completely, as though he never existed.
He wanted, his lover said, to save himself
from the tainted, unhealthy form of sexual pleasure,
the tainted, shameful form of sexual pleasure.
There was still time, he said, to save himself.
He lost him completely, as though he never existed.
Through fantasy, through hallucination,
he tries to find his lips in the lips of other young men,
he longs to feel his kind of love once more.
--
"I can't get involved with a closet case," Wilson told him. "Not again."
"That's rich. I didn't even know you were gay until five seconds ago."
"Well, now you know."
"And?"
"What?"
"God. Never mind. Get me a beer."
James Wilson knew that House was lying. About not knowing. He didn't care about his reasons, if he had any, and he didn't care about shoving the truth, whatever that was, in House's face. All he wanted to do was watch TV and drink beer and eat poorly. Basically, he wanted their normal Friday night, but House had latched on to this "symptom" and he'd have to wait for a diagnosis before either of them could get any rest.
"And did I say I was interested? You haven't even asked about my dreams, hopes, and aspirations yet."
"I think your dreams would give me nightmares, but I see hookers and Vicodin and Cuddy's head on a stake. And you said 'suck my dick,' which gives some clues as to your hopes and aspirations."
"Normally you have a healthy sense for the metaphorical."
"As do you."
"There was a tone."
"Well, I've always been tone deaf."
"Explains the affinity for musicals."
"Ha," Wilson deadpanned, handing House his beer.
"You are gay, aren't you?" House asked. But he wasn't really asking.
"No."
"Just an equal-opportunity slut?"
"Did you Tivo The L-Word?"
"Stop trying to distract me with breasts and bad acting. I deal with that enough at work."
"Cameron has breasts?"
"Nice."
They watched the TV and each other for a while, Wilson remembering the first time he interpreted "suck my dick" as an invitation, House probably plotting a very embarrassing and very public outing.
"Maybe we should switch to Queer as Folk," House mused, tapping his empty beer bottle on Wilson's thigh, demanding a refill.
"Brian Kinney is dreamy," Wilson sighed, as much from the effort of dealing with House as from the effort of sitting up.
"So Arrogant Sexy Bastard is your type?" House grinned.
"Isn't that obvious?"