061. Winter

(This prompt ficlet follows on from Christmas and Food.)

The Winter of our Discontent

Wilson sat in the chair behind his desk and tried to concentrate on the paperwork in front of him. Unfortunately the events of the previous day and particularly the previous night had his concentration shot to bits. His eyes flickered over to the couch on the other side of the room and his cheeks reddened as he remembered what he and House had done there the previous day. After they'd recovered they gone home and talked. House had refused to elaborate on what had happened with his parents but he had assured Wilson that this wasn't just a knee-jerk reaction, that he wanted it…more than he could really articulate; something that had been an enormous relief to Wilson.

His thoughts were broken by the sound of his office phone ringing and he gave his head a quick shake before picking it up.

"James Wilson."

"James, it's Blythe House."

Wilson's eyes widened for a moment; not so much at who was calling him but at the upset tone of voice she was using.

"Blythe, it…it's lovely to hear from you," Wilson stammered. "Is everything okay?"

He heard a soft sigh from the other end of the phone.

"Did Greg tell you what happened?" Blythe asked quietly.

"Uh, I…sort of got the highlights but he wouldn't tell me the details," Wilson said carefully.

"What did he tell you?"

Wilson was silent for a moment. "He…said he told you both about…us and that it…didn't go down very well with your husband."

He heard something that might have been a muted sob or perhaps a choked laugh on the other end of the line.

"That was rather diplomatic of you," Blythe said, sounding rather upset. "You are together then."

Wilson sighed and ran a hand down his face before deciding to be honest with Blythe.

"We are…now," he said quietly, hearing Blythe's understanding gasp. "Blythe, I won't deny I've…wanted this for a long time and from what he said last night so has Greg. But…look, I can take a few educated guesses as to why Greg did what he did yesterday but what happened was the…catalyst for us."

"I wondered," Blythe said softly. "Just for a minute there he got that expression he always wore when he was baiting John but it disappeared so quickly I thought I might have imagined it." There was a moment of silence. "I am…glad though. You've always been so good for him, James, and I've always known he cared about you even if he doesn't show it very well."

Wilson gave a small laugh then sobered. "Blythe, how bad was it really?"

He heard a deep, weary sigh from the other end of the phone.

"John overreacted to Greg's goading," Blythe said with a certain helpless desperation. "They've been doing it for years and I'm sure they both know what's happening but neither of them will back down." She took a deep breath. "John called him a…a…a fag and Greg asked if he was disappointed in him again. John…said yes."

"Oh, hell," Wilson muttered under his breath. It was worse than he'd thought.

"It was like watching an avalanche," Blythe continued wanly. "I knew I'd started it but couldn't work out how to stop it and now I don't know how to fix it. John won't talk about it."

"Neither will Greg," Wilson said resignedly. "And not in that 'I don't want to talk about it but you might be able to coax it out of me if you do something nice' way either. He's refusing to say anything about it at all."

"We're leaving tomorrow," Blythe said, sounding helpless.

"Look, maybe that's for the best for now," Wilson said soothingly. "Let the two of them settle down a bit. When do you come back?"

"The 14th," Blythe replied.

"Okay, I'll work on Greg, you can work on John," Wilson said, wondering how exactly he'd gotten into this situation. "Give me a call when you get back and we'll see if we can sort this out."

"Thank you so much, James," Blythe said with relief. "And irrespective of when it happened, I'm glad about you and Greg."

Wilson blushed even though he couldn't be seen. "Thank you," he said softly. "I do love him, you know."

"I have often wondered," Blythe said, her smile obvious in her voice. "Thank you, James. Goodbye."

"Goodbye," Wilson said then hung up the phone.

He leaned back in his chair and scrubbed his face with both hands. When House had categorically refused to elaborate on what had happened during the lunch with his parents, he'd known it was bad. Usually House could be coaxed into talking or rather complaining about his parents, he rarely shut down entirely.

But Wilson could barely credit what had happened. If House had told him he might have suspected some exaggeration but when it came from Blythe then he knew that it was nothing but the truth. He wondered briefly how much of John House's reaction had been due to shock and House's goading and how much was genuine. While it was true that John House had spent the majority of his adult life in the military, Wilson had never gotten the impression before that the man was homophobic.

And how in god's name could the man actually say that he was disappointed by his own son? He knew that both of House's parents felt helpless in regards to their son's physical problems and his descent into bitterness and anger but he'd never expected that John House would actually be disappointed. His son was a superb doctor, world-famous, probably the best in his field. How any man could be disappointed in a son like that was beyond Wilson.

"Didn't realise paperwork required that much thought."

Wilson started and looked over to see House limping in through the door of the office. His lover looked amused and more relaxed than he'd seen in a long time and he felt something lurch inside at not only that sight but also the knowledge that he was the cause of it.

"It doesn't," he said. "Your mother called me."

He regretted saying it the moment that House tensed.

"Why?" House asked harshly as he sat down.

"She was upset," Wilson said honestly. "She wanted to tease her son a bit and ended up causing a disaster that she doesn't know how to fix."

"So you're going to fix it for her, are you?" House asked sarcastically.

"Greg, the only people who can fix this are you and your Dad," Wilson said soberly. "I know what he said hurt and I have no idea if he really meant them or they were just stupid words said in frustration and anger. You said yourself last night that you were goading him."

"You think I should apologise?" House said incredulously.

"I think we should let this go for now and have everyone settle down for a while," Wilson replied. "Your parents are leaving tomorrow and will be away until the 14th. Maybe if you both think about it a bit, we can sort everything out."

House shrugged truculently but didn't say anything. Wilson watched him for a moment then smiled slightly.

"Your mother's pleased about us," he offered.

House gave him a startled look. "She is?"

Wilson's smile widened. "I told her the truth about us. She said she wondered for a moment there whether you were telling the truth or just trying to prod your Dad but either way, she's pleased."

A tiny smile flickered across House's lips and something akin to gratitude settled in his eyes for a moment.

"Good," he said with quiet satisfaction.

Wilson sat back in his chair and decided to let the matter drop for now. There was time to revisit it later and try to sort this mess out. Wilson had lost a brother because no one saw what was there until too late; he wasn't going to let House lose his father without a fight.