019. Denial

Get Off The Bus

Wilson walked down the corridor, his shoulders slightly hunched and his concentration turned inward. Force of habit had taken him in this direction and in order to get to his office he was now going to be forced to walk past the Diagnostic Medicine office. He hunched his shoulders a little further and increased his pace, hoping to get past as quickly as possible. But once again, force of habit stepped in and he turned to look into House's office.

House was in there and somehow he seemed to know that Wilson was walking past. He looked up and Wilson flinched. The stony, belligerent look on House's face sharpened when he saw that Wilson was looking at him and for once Wilson knew he deserved it. He swallowed hard then quickly scurried away from House's office, gaining the sanctuary of his own office with a sigh. He shut the door behind him firmly and leaned against it wearily.

He stayed there for a moment, collecting his thoughts then walked over and slumped down his chair behind his desk. It was then that a note on the desk caught his eye. He gingerly picked it up and opened it, wincing again when he recognised House's handwriting. The note was short and brusque and made something inside Wilson's chest clench.

Make a decision. My place or fuck off.

Wilson had been occupying a comfy, reserved seat on the big ol' denial bus for a long time now. How long, he couldn't quite remember but at the very least it dated back to his first meeting with House. House had cheerfully and sardonically chatted him up, picked him up and then proceeded to show him things that his tentative exploration of his sexuality in college hadn't even come within a bull's roar of matching.

But Wilson had always felt the weight of expectations weighing on him and he'd given in to them back then, just as he always had. House had been disappointed, bitingly so, but eventually had shrugged and seemed content to let things stay as friendship. But last night he'd apparently changed his mind. He'd made a move and Wilson had responded. And this morning Wilson had felt those expectations again and had once again caved into them. Unlike last time, House wasn't prepared to accept that.

Which is what brought them to this point. House had been vociferous and blunt. Enough hiding, enough evading, enough with the wives. Wilson had fought back, not because he didn't want the same thing but because he was…afraid. Afraid of change, afraid of disappointing people, afraid of…everything. House had all but thrown him out of the apartment this morning and now he had his ultimatum. House or nothing.

Wilson gave a slightly bitter laugh as he let the note drop onto his desk again; House certainly knew how to cut through the bullshit.

An uncertain future or one without House.

My place or fuck off.

The risk of seeing disappointment in his parents' eyes or the certainty of never seeing that gleam in House's eyes…the one that said 'let's have fun'.

My place or fuck off.

Maybe getting what he'd always wanted but never been brave enough to take or…another wife, another divorce.

My place or fuck off.

Wilson leaned back in his chair and closed his eyes. He took a deep, shaky breath then let it out slowly. House had spent years dragging him out of his comfort zone and it looked like he was going to do it one more time. He slowly pushed himself to his feet and packed his bag. He pulled on his jacket then walked out of his office, nodding a good night to his secretary. He paused in the corridor just out of sight of House's office then kept going, pushing open the door and walking over to stand in front of House's desk.

House was destroying something on his Gameboy and did not look up. Wilson could see that his friend's face was hard and stony and he swallowed.

"Your place," Wilson said quietly.

House's head came up and he gave Wilson a long look.

Wilson shifted uncomfortably under that look and repeated, "Your place."

House stared at him a moment longer, his expression unchanged. "Why?"

Wilson swallowed again. "You," he whispered. "You mean more to me than…than…the rest."

He almost flinched when House suddenly pushed himself to his feet, grabbing his cane and limping around the desk to stand in front of him. House stared at him with that stony expression for a moment longer then his face relaxed into something approaching affectionate. He brought his free hand up and gently caressed Wilson's cheek.

"It's about damn time," he murmured as he leaned in and pressed a kiss to Wilson's lips.