Disclaimer: House MD is owned...not by me :( I hope you like what I have written so far. I am hoping to update again maybe tomorrow, only if I feel inspired. If there is anything you'd like to see happen, message me and let me know :)

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House stood in place for a few more moments, before it registered that Wilson had left. He could still feel the warmth on his lips from the kiss, and warmth in other places. He ran his fingers through his hair and sat down on the couch, processing everything that had just happened.

"Wow" He said to himself, thinking about the kiss itself, and the fact that he had wanted more. Then he remembered that Wilson left, and he had no idea where he had gone.

"Tomorrow."

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Wilson sat alone in his hotel room, his face flaming red, his hands shaking, and his mind racing. He had just kissed House. He had done what he had wanted to do, for so long. And then he ran, because he realized, that he had just kissed House. House! "I'm dead, I'm definitely dead. He is going to hold this over my head for years to come, mocking me about it." He thought to himself, as he laid back on the lumpy mattress.

He reached up and touched his lips, still able to feel the stubble from House on them. In all honesty, the kiss wasn't what he regretted. It was how it occurred. The whole scene ran through his head…

"Jimmy…I don't get it. What's wrong?"

"What's wrong is that in the kitchen I wanted you to do this…" He closed the space between them, and placed his lips softly on House's.

"Fuck!" Wilson yelled, grabbed a pillow and shoving it onto his face. He really didn't look forward to work tomorrow.

Early in the morning, the sun's rays peered through the drapes, onto Wilson's face, causing him to wake up. He glanced over at the clock, seeing that he had a half hour to get to work. "Better shower." He looked down, realizing he had fallen asleep with his clothes on. He jumped in quickly, scrubbed, and was out and ready for work in 15 minutes.

The drive seemed shorter than usual, which was odd because the hotel was farther away from the hospital than House's apartment was. He was glad he kept an extra change of clothes in his office. As he got ready to turn left down a street, he heart almost stopped when he saw someone on a bike zip by him. "How am I going to get through today?"

Once he reached work, he bolted upstairs, changed, and sat down in his office. He would usually make an appearance upstairs in the conference room, chat, get berated by House, and then come back here and get some work done. Today, he wasn't even going near the 4th floor unless he had too.

It was a quiet day, he got more work done than usual. No visitors, no nothing. Around 3 o clock though, that was all ruined.

"You know, it's not very nice when you don't show up to date and don't call first."

Just hearing House's voicing made his pulse speed up, and he wished he could jump out the window. "Sorry I had work to do."

House scoffed. He placed the blue mug on his desk, then sat on the other chair. "Don't worry, I didn't make it. And since when has work stopped you from playing with us?"

Wilson glanced over at the mug, his heart swelling. He shrugged, then sipped from the mug, happy that House ready hadn't made it.

"Well I can see that you are busy being weird and nervous, so I'll go and bother some of the patients. You know, stir shit up." House stood up and walked over to Wilson, who still refused to look at him. He leaned in close, whispering right into Wilson's ear. "Do me a favour? Come home tonight. We need to talk."

Before Wilson could respond, House was gone. Shivers ran all over his body, and he downed the rest of the coffee.

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Against he better judgments, and the fact that he was scared what would happen, when Wilson left work, he car made its way over to House's apartment. He of course stopped off at the corner shop, just in case House had managed to inhale everything. Once he got to the door of the apartment, butterflies appeared in his stomach. Slowly, he opened the door.

House was sitting on the couch, watching what looked to be another soap opera. He was fully clothed, and drinking a soda, not a beer or J.D. Wilson did his best to hide his confusion, and closed the door behind him quietly.

"How was work?" House called from the couch.

"It was uneventful. Dying patients, mothers accusing me of doing nothing for their kids, when nothing can be done." Wilson put the bags in the kitchen, unloading the groceries. "Yours?"

"Weird fever, kid almost died, turned out to be another tick bite. So pretty normal. Chase mentioned your absence, and Cameron seemed to miss you. Foreman…is Foreman." House quipped, glancing into the kitchen. "What do you want for dinner?"

Wilson almost dropped the jar of pickles in his hand. House, in the many years they had known each other, had never asked him that, without adding 'Because I want…'. He peered out the doorway into the living room. "What?"

House looked away from the television, at him. "I asked what you wanted for dinner. Maybe I can cook something. If it isn't too difficult." He looked back at the TV, feeling Wilson's eyes still on him.

Wilson's jaw hit the floor. He walked into the living room, standing right in front of House, blocking his view of the show he was watching.

"Hey! I was watching that!" House pouted, glaring at Wilson.

"In the many, many years that we have known each other, you have never…ever asked what I wanted for dinner. You have never offered to cook anything either. What is fuck is going?"

House sighed looked up at Wilson. "I thought it would be nice. And maybe you would want to talk to me."

"About what? About the huge mistake I made yesterday? Look, I'm sorry ok? I can't live like this, be nervous around you because of something I did. Just forget it ok?" He retreated back to the kitchen, to finish unpacking the groceries.

"I don't think it was a mistake." House muttered to himself, hoping Wilson heard him. When there was no reaction from the kitchen, House got up, and stood beside Wilson, leaning against the counter. "I said, I don't think it was a mistake. I don't see why you do."

Wilson looked into his sparkling blue eyes, holding back tears. All he needed now was for House to see him cry, that would add to the humiliation. "It was a mistake because I shouldn't have done it. And I regret it. Can you put those in the fridge?" He handed House a carton of eggs.

House did was Wilson asked him, then stood back beside him. "Jimmy, I think we need to talk about this ok?"

"Do you want me out? Is that it? I'm fucking sorry ok? I shouldn't have kissed you, I shouldn't have let anything slip like that." He looked into the sink, attempting to hide the tears falling from his cheeks.

He jumped a little when his felt House's hand on his shoulder. "Jimmy…do you think I'm mad at you? Why would you think I'm mad at you? I'm glad you kissed me." Wilson looked at House, confused. "I've wanted to know what it would be like to kiss you for years. Just something in the back of my mind. Now I know. You're good." House smiled. He hobbled back to the living room.

Wilson followed him, stopping him before he could sit down. "Ok, I am really fucking confused. You…wanted to know what it would be like to kiss me? I…uh…this is so fucked up." He sat down on the couch, House sat beside him.

"Its not that fucked up if you think about it. Fuck, half the hospital thinks we are dating. It kinda makes sense." He smiled. Wilson just shook his head.

"What does this all mean?"

"Why must you talk so much?" House leaned over and captured Wilson's lips in his, wrapping one arm around his neck, the other on his hip.