049. Writer's Choice – Trust
Trust Me
"Do you trust me?"
House looked up from the game he had been playing, not hearing the sad electronic fanfare that announced his sudden death.
"What?" he said with a small frown.
"Do you trust me?" Wilson asked with a small, strange smile that House had never seen before.
"Of course," House said in an off-hand manner before frowning at the Gameboy in his hands.
"No," Wilson said firmly, getting his attention again. "Do you trust me?"
House tossed the Gameboy on his desk and looked curiously at Wilson, wondering what was prompting this urgent demand. He leaned back in his chair and considered the question.
Anyone who knew him for more than a few days would shout to the world that House had trust issues but House maintained that he had cause. The last person he'd trusted implicitly had betrayed him in a terrible, painful manner. Not to her but to him. He'd trusted Stacy to look after things for him when he'd elected to put into the chemically induced coma. He'd trusted her. And she'd betrayed that trust. She'd most likely saved his life with that betrayal but that didn't change the facts.
But this wasn't Stacy asking that question. This was Wilson. His gaze flickered over to the man standing on front of his desk. Wilson was waiting patiently, clearly quite willing to let House have all the time he needed. He didn't know why Wilson was asking this question but the answer was oddly easy to give.
"Yes," he said with sudden realisation. "Yes, I trust you."
Wilson smiled brilliantly and House's breath caught slightly. God, that smile…
His breath caught again when the smile didn't fade and Wilson walked determinedly around the desk. He swallowed hard as Wilson grabbed his chin then leaned down and kissed him. Ferociously. Possessively. Like he finally had what he wanted.
House let a hand curl around the back of Wilson's neck, deepening the kiss and contemplating the benefits of trusting someone.