051. Water

Buoyancy

Wilson stood in the doorway of the swim centre's main building and looked out in bemusement at the flood-lit outdoor pool. It was nearly one in the morning and floating on his back amongst the mist tendrils rising from the heated water was House. He'd gotten back to House's apartment that night to find the place deserted and a note on the table saying that House was at this pool if he was needed. Wilson had been curious enough both at the content of the note and the terse nature of it to drive down here; he'd known that House had been a good swimmer before the infarction but he hadn't been aware that he'd been anywhere near a pool since then. House disliked anyone, even he and Cuddy, seeing his ruined leg.

He arrived at the swim centre to find that not only was it deserted but it was also definitely after hours. Yet in spite of that, when he'd knocked on the door and told the man who answered his name, he'd been let in immediately.

"He's out the back," the man had said with a jerk of his head. "He said you might come."

The man had immediately walked away, returning to whatever task he'd been doing at this hour of the night, and Wilson had walked slowly out to where he was now standing. He'd been surprised to find that the normal tang of chlorine was muted in comparison to other pools he'd been to and it was a sign near the side of the pool that answered that question along with the one of why House was here in the first place. Salt water heated pool. The buoyancy that salt water provided would be a real boon for House.

Wilson pushed himself away from the door jamb and carefully walked along the side of the pool until he came level with House. He then crouched down and debated whether to disturb his friend. House was floating with his eyes closed and the most serene expression Wilson had ever seen on his face with only the soft slurry of the water lapping at the edge of the pool breaking the silence. He looked contemplative and relaxed and Wilson wasn't surprised to feel something lurch inside his chest.

"Come on in, the water's fine," House said suddenly, his voice sounding oddly gravelly.

Wilson gave a small start then smiled. "I didn't bring my bathing suit."

"So? Neither did I," House replied.

Wilson looked at House and realised that he wasn't actually wearing a bathing suit. He was wearing a pair of long shorts that covered his legs down to the tops of his knees, hiding the scar that he hated.

"Well, I'm not swimming naked," Wilson said lightly.

House was silent for a moment, his eyes still closed. "Pity," he said in a tone that made Wilson frown; he wasn't sure if House was joking or genuine. "Wear your boxers."

Wilson was about to object then he realised he actually didn't want to. He stood and looked around; House's cane, a towel and the rest of his clothes were resting on a small stool right near the steps at the shallow end. He walked over and stripped off his own clothes until he was just wearing his boxers, placing them on top of House's then he slowly waded into the pool via the steps. The water was warmer than he'd thought, probably somewhere just below body temperature and it felt wonderful in comparison to the cool night air. He slowly swam over to where House was floating then stood, finding that the water came up to the middle of his chest.

"You're right, the water's great," he said quietly.

House finally opened his eyes and Wilson swallowed hard when he saw the languid pleasure in them. That was another thing he hadn't seen since the infarction and once again something in his chest lurched. He was happy to see House like this but some quiet part of himself wished he'd been responsible for this small happiness.

"I didn't know you did this," he said to cover his confusion.

"Daniel's a former patient," House replied and Wilson assumed Daniel must be the man who'd let him in. "Can't swim anymore but this feels good."

"I'm glad," Wilson replied somewhat lamely.

The languid pleasure in House's eyes changed to something that Wilson couldn't quite put a finger on; something more curious, more aware, even slightly joyous. House reached out with one hand and his fingers briefly brushed Wilson's chest.

Wilson sucked in a sharp breath at the contact then closed his eyes and inwardly cursed himself. He'd been aware of his attraction to his friend for years but had always managed to successfully contain it; House had been with Stacy, he'd been married then the infarction had occurred and House had seemed to end up somewhere remote and untouchable. But since he'd been staying at House's place after leaving Julie, he'd been finding it harder and harder to keep his desires in check. He had no idea what House was doing right now but he was almost afraid to find out; what if it wasn't what he wanted?

The fingers brushed his chest again then once again, lower this time, against his stomach. Wilson let out the breath he'd taken in a shuddering sigh. He felt oddly vulnerable standing here half-naked in the water.

"Open your eyes, Jimmy."

House's voice was low and gruff and Wilson did as he asked. House was watching him with languorous intent and when their eyes met, he deliberately brushed Wilson's chest again.

"Come here," House said, his voice still gruff but for the first time showing some of his own insecurities.

Wilson moved closer, the water rippling around House's floating form. When he was close enough, House wrapped one arm around his waist and pulled himself into a standing position. They were standing close together now; not quite fully touching, not quite separate. Wilson could feel the warmth of House's body, the warmth of the water, smell the salt and the chlorine. He looked at House and felt tears well; for once, for the first time in far too long, there were no walls or masks or barriers shielding the face that was looking back at him and he saw something there that he wanted to see, longed to see.

House smiled, seemingly having read his mind, then leaned forward and brushed his lips against Wilson's. He did it again and then a third time before Wilson snaked a hand around his neck and pulled him forward. The kiss was hard and wanting, filled with things unsaid, and when it ended House rested his forehead against his own.

"Let's go home."

Wilson closed his eyes and smiled. "Yes."