027. Deliver

More Food

Moving back into House's apartment felt strangely like coming home, something Wilson really didn't want to examine too much. He wasn't sure what it meant that his best friend's apartment was more like home than any house he'd shared with any of his wives but he was sure it wasn't good.

He let his bag drop to the floor behind the sofa and looked around with a small sigh. House had continued on and disappeared into the bedroom and Wilson decided that since he was once again imposing he might as well get things off to a good start and make dinner. He knew everything would deteriorate rapidly…and amusingly…though hopefully this time House would lay off the collegiate pranks. Or he might be forced to shortsheet the bed.

He wandered into the kitchen and opened the refrigerator. Apart from some beer and leftover Chinese, it was empty. A quick survey of the cupboards revealed peanut butter, bread, some chips and not much else. He closed the door of the cupboard he was peering into and shook his head.

"Do you ever actually eat anything that isn't junk food?" he called out.

"Where's the fun in that?" House asked with a grin as he limped into the kitchen. "Grab some beer. I'll call for pizza."

Wilson rolled his eyes and headed for the fridge. "Thai," he said to House's back. "I feel like something spicy."

House turned and leered at him ridiculously. "I'll bet you do."

Wilson rolled his eyes and determinedly ignored the way his chest lurched as he had done a thousand times before. Maybe before the infarction he might have taken a chance, explored where things might go, but not now. He wouldn't risk alienating House and destroying the best friendship he'd ever had just because his dick happened to really like the man.

"Get spring rolls," he said, loading his voice with as much innuendo as he could.

He was rewarded by a filthy laugh from House then the sound of him ordering food. He paused in the doorway and watched House for a moment before turning towards the fridge to get the beer. When he walked out into the living room again, House was already sitting on the sofa. He handed one beer over and sat down beside him.

"Thirty minutes," House said as he channel flicked.

"Good," Wilson replied, getting himself a little more comfortable as they waited for the deliveryman. If he couldn't have what he wanted, he was happy to accept what he had.