7.5—"Explanations"

The phone rang.

"Wilson, get the phone!" House shouted, not moving from the couch. His hand rubbed his thigh absently.

"House, I'm about to take a shower," Wilson shouted back over the spray. "You can answer the phone."

"What if it's for you?" House responded.

"Then I'm probably going to have to send an apology card to the caller. Either answer it or let it go to voicemail. I'm taking a shower."

House grabbed the phone to check the caller ID.

'Carr, Samantha'

House's face cracked into an evil grin and he glanced back to the hallway to make sure Wilson wasn't coming.

"House-Wilson residence."

"House? It's Sam. May I speak to James, please?"

"N...no, you may not," House said, enjoying himself.

"Excuse me? Why not?"

"Well firstly, because he's in the shower. But also because he's not your boy-toy anymore. He's mine. And I never share my toys."

He could hear her scoff over the phone and guessed she was also rolling her eyes. "Could you ask him to call me back, please?"

"I could," House replied, mentally completing, but we both know I won't.

She sighed, "Goodbye, House," and hung up the phone without waiting for him to respond.

"Who called?" Wilson asked after his shower, catching House's eye in the bathroom mirror while he towel-dried his hair.

"Wrong number," House replied, breaking eye contact with the Wilson in the mirror so his eyes could scan its body, which was only covered by a white towel around the waist.

"Don't think about it," Wilson warned. "I just took a shower—House!"

"I just want to assert my ownership of you," House said innocently. He hadn't touched Wilson yet, he was simply standing directly behind him, about an inch away.

"Oh-ho," Wilson scoffed. "Is that all it is? Well in that case, feel free. My refusal was made under the assumption that you wanted to express feelings of love, not ownership."

"Rookie mistake," House responded, shrugging. He smirked at Wilson in the mirror. His eyes were gleaming.

Wilson groaned. "I'm getting you to pay the water bill next month," he murmured, turning around to face him.

"Yeah, good luck with that," House said, attaching his hand firmly to the back of Wilson's neck.

[]

Someone knocked on Wilson's office door.

"Come in," he said, and then looked up and swallowed. "Sam."

"Hi, James," she said, almost shyly. "Sorry for dropping in like this. I...I tried to call last night, but House answered...and...well, I'm guessing he didn't tell you I called."

"He...didn't," Wilson replied, looking his ex over as she sat down in front of his desk. "What...what are you doing here, Sam?"

She sighed. "Apologizing. Listen, if it's too late, I get that. But I don't want us to leave on hostile terms this time." She caught his eye. "I'd like us at least to be friends, James, if not anything more."

"Uh, listen, Sam, I'm not sure that's the best idea," Wilson said, rubbing the back of his neck. He saw movement out of the corner of his eye and noticed House striding toward the dividing wall of their balconies. "It's nothing personal," Wilson said quickly, rising from his chair. "But I really don't think we should see each other anymore. In any context. You should go." He got up and held his office door open to accentuate his point, but rather than go through it, Sam just stared at him.

At that point House entered the office through the balcony door and, ignoring Sam, greeted Wilson by wrapping his arms around his waist and kissing his mouth deeply.

"House," Wilson interrupted, pushing him away gently. "Please." He gestured at Sam.

"Why, Samantha," House said in tones of mock surprise, looking at her as though he'd only just realized she was there. "I'm sorry, but if you want to watch you'll have to drop by the condo later. Jimmy adamantly refuses to get it on at work." He was looking at her, and smiling at the situation, but she had risen and was staring at Wilson.

"James, what the hell is going on?" She looked from his eyes to his waist, where one of House's hands was still anchored, and had a hand on her hip.

"You mean you didn't tell her about us?" House asked, still cheerful. He started to trace Wilson's jawline with his finger but Wilson smacked his hand away.

"House, cut it out."

He didn't look at Sam, but House did. He grinned at her. "Told you I'd outlast you."

She was still gaping at Wilson. "James, he isn't serious?"

Wilson shrugged and then nodded, and House tightened his grip on Wilson's waist.

Sam made a disgusted face, and stared from one doctor to the other.

Wilson turned to his lover. "House, could you give us a minute?" Wilson asked gently. For a second they looked at each other. Wilson had his serious eyes on. House kissed him again briefly, and for a second Wilson thought he was just asserting his ownership again, just for show. But the kiss was tender for that, and when he pulled back House looked at him for a second, wearing his serious eyes, before exiting the way he came.

[]

Wilson didn't usually initiate kissing at work, but when House came to get him for lunch a few hours later, he gave him a quick peck on the lips.

"What was that for?" House asked.

Wilson wondered why House always seemed to think there was an ulterior motive behind his kisses but didn't call attention to it. Maybe because at least this time he was right.

"You trusted me alone with Sam," Wilson explained, smiling.

"You didn't do anything, did you?"

"I apologized," Wilson said.

House scoffed. "Of course you did. It wasn't your fault, but you were involved, so you had to apologize."

"But it was my fault, House," Wilson insisted, looking away from him. "The whole thing was my fault."

"Yeah, you forced her to walk out on you."

Wilson shrugged. "Basically. I pushed her. She wanted us to take it slow this time, so we'd actually make it. Not like last time. But I pressured her into moving in right away."

House backed away a bit, staring at Wilson. "It was your idea?"

Wilson nodded.

"You wanted to get rid of me?"

Wilson smiled. "I needed to get rid of you. We were getting too close, House, and I...I couldn't handle it. It was selfish, I know, I didn't even think about what you wanted when I kicked you out. I just knew it was getting to be too much for me, being around you all the time, and I needed a distraction. Sam friended me, it was perfect timing, I jumped at the opportunity." Wilson had moved close to House again, touching his side. "It was never about her, House. I know it upset you, and I'm sorry I was too selfish to care. But you should know, it was never about her." He took a moment to smile. "It was always you."

House stepped back and rolled his eyes. "Quit being saccharine." He was half-smiling, though, and Wilson chuckled as they headed out to go get lunch.

[]

"Just water, please," Cuddy said to the waiter. She picked up the menu just to have something to do with her hands. Instead of looking at the entrées, she peered over the top of the menu and breathed a sigh of relief when she saw Lucas enter the restaurant. It was an expensive place, but Lucas's shirt was wrinkled and his pants were frayed. He looked almost as scruffy as House usually did, obviously not caring how nice the restaurant was. He sat down across from Cuddy and gave her a look that said he was just here to get this over with.

"So what do you want?" he asked.

Cuddy smoothed her skirt under the table. "I was hoping we could talk," she said.

"I'm listening."

"I wanted to apologize," she explained, looking into his eyes. "I shouldn't have broken up with you like that. I was too hasty–"

"–Right, you should have checked first to make sure House wanted you before dumping me. You're a professional woman, Lisa. You should know you don't quit your job until someone else hires you."

"Lucas, I didn't mean it like that!" Cuddy said, scandalized. "I meant that I should have thought about how much our relationship means to me before I gave it up. I didn't, and that what was wrong, and all I can ask is for you to forgive me. I want you to take me back, Lucas. I...I know I don't deserve it, but I want you to think about what the relationship means to you...whether you're really willing to give it up."

She looked at him, eyes pleading as she waited for a response.

Lucas sighed and leaned back in his chair. "You're right," he said, and Cuddy allowed herself a small smile before his next sentence caught up with her. "You don't deserve it." He got up and she reached for his hand but he moved it away. He stood next to the table and looked down at her. His eyes didn't hold anger, they held pity. "Our relationship did mean something to me, Lisa. But I wanted it to mean something to you, too. Clearly it doesn't. Not enough. I deserve someone who wants me as much as I want them."

Lucas turned around and walked away. Cuddy's eyes filled with tears as she watched him go. She thought about going after him, but didn't think it would do anything.

The waiter came by again. "Your water, ma'am," he said, setting it on the table. She looked at him. "On second thought, I'll take a wine spritzer."

[]

"Did you tell her that?" House asked.

Wilson looked at the man sitting next to him on the couch. When he didn't give an audible response, House returned his gaze.

"Oh, sorry," Wilson said. "I would have answered you, but in order to do that I'd have to have some inkling of what in the world you're talking about."

House rolled his eyes. "When I left you and Sam in your office, did you tell her that you were only doing her to get your mind off me?"

Wilson flinched a bit. "That's kind of harsh, House."

"You told me that was the truth."

"Well...I said it in...nicer words. I was more subtle about it. I tried to phrase it in a way that didn't make her seem worthless."

House snorted. "Of course you did. I forgot, you're the guy who gets thanked when he tells people they're dying."

Wilson grinned. "Well I promise you this, she didn't thank me. She was hoping we could get back together, actually. Even though I rushed her, she said I'm the only guy who really understands her, and she's not willing to give me up. I told her it was too late, she got upset and she said, 'What, as soon as I go out the door, you jump on him?' and then I accidentally smiled because that's exactly what happened, and that pissed her off but I explained that I really loved you all along, even though I don't think that helped." He smirked at House, who smirked back, but then Wilson frowned. "It did get me thinking about that night, though," he said. "I was so freaked out about kissing you that I didn't even think about it, but why did you come over in the first place? We didn't have any plans, I wasn't expecting you, but you were just suddenly there. You don't usually drop by unexpectedly when I'm not single. What made you decide to come over?"

House looked at the floor. Wilson hadn't brought this up yet and he'd hoped he could just forget about it, that he'd never have to tell...

"House?" Wilson prompted, resting a hand on his knee. "Is something wrong?"

He couldn't lie to Wilson. Not about something this big. He sighed. "I was upset," he admitted. "I went back to my apartment and I found an old stash of Vicodin."

Wilson inhaled sharply.

"I didn't take any," House said quickly. "I sat there, I looked at it, I thought about taking it. But I didn't. I put the pills back in the bottle, I put it down, and I came over."

Wilson's arms were around him, his hand against the back of House's neck, pressing his body to his as though afraid something bad would happen if he let go. "House, why didn't you tell me?" he breathed.

Wilson felt him shrug. "You were upset. And then you kissed me. And then you took off. We had other stuff going on."

"I wish you'd told me," Wilson whispered, holding House against him.

"I didn't take it. It's not a big deal."

"It is a big deal. You put it down. That's a huge accomplishment. But you also picked it up." He let go of House for the time being to look at him properly. "Have you talked to Nolan about this?"

House broke eye contact and looked at the floor.

"That's a no. But I assume you've told him about us, right?"

"Actually," House muttered, deciding to come clean. "I haven't spoken to him in awhile."

Wilson furrowed his brow. "How long of a while?"

House shrugged. "Our last session was right after you kicked me out of the condo. I was having a bad week. He came to the conclusion that my less than cheerful mood was due to Cuddy and Lucas moving in together that I'd known about for months rather than the fact that the best friend I happened to be in love with was dating someone else and decided to toss me on my ass. So I fired him."

"All right," Wilson said. "Maybe he was wrong on that one. But to be fair, was he aware that you happened to be in love with your best friend at the time?"

"It's called 'reading between the lines.' He should have figured it out. He should know everybody lies. Including me."

"House, even I had no idea. And I've known you longer and I'd been living with you."

"Yeah, you should have known, too. I've only been flirting with you for what, nine years? Ten?"

Wilson smiled. "You do that with everyone. How was I supposed to know it meant anything with me?"

"You were supposed to know."

"Okay, House."

They sat in a companionable silence for a few minutes.

"Will you do something for me, though?" Wilson asked.

"Do I have to get up?"

"No."

"Shoot."

"Make another appointment with Dr. Nolan," Wilson requested.

House scowled and looked away.

"Please. I'm only asking because I care about your mental health. Yes, he was wrong about what upset you, but there are worse mistakes he could have made, and he is only human and not perfect."

"Fine, fine, I'll make an appointment," House said, partly just to shut Wilson up and partly because he was right. It hadn't been just the one screw up that led him to fire Nolan; it had been the fact that he'd done everything Nolan asked and was still miserable. But he wasn't miserable anymore. He wasn't sure if he was happy, exactly. His leg still hurt badly on occasion and sometimes he got so terrified Wilson would leave him that he'd lie awake at night clutching the oncologist to his body so he couldn't escape. But he was happier than he'd been since the infarction. He didn't know if he'd been happier with Stacy than he was now. Being with Stacy had had the advantage of two working legs, but being with Wilson felt impossibly right in a way that he wasn't sure Stacy could compare. And...it wasn't that he wasn't grateful to have Stacy when she was there, but she'd happened so fast. A mess of a first date and cohabitation a week later. Wilson he'd been waiting for for years.

"Thank you," Wilson said, smiling. "I'm proud of you."

House rolled his eyes and reached for his cane so he could go play his organ. He liked that the instrument faced the wall, away from the rest of the condo. This made it harder for Wilson to see the ridiculous look of pleasure that involuntarily crossed his face whenever he sat down on the bench. He began to play, and Wilson shut the TV off. He leaned against the back of the couch and closed his eyes. House played, and Wilson listened, and the doctors had matching looks of euphoria on their faces as the music penetrated the loft.