Chapter Four

For the next two days, House avoided Wilson. Much to his relief, he noticed that his hypothesis seemed to be correct. While, of course, neither day was completely devoid of thoughts (not being a teenage girl, House refused to use the word 'daydreams') of him and Wilson in a relationship, or in bed, or on the glass table, they occurred with less frequency than they had on days when the two had actually spent time together. He had not had another erotic or semi-erotic dream about his friend, and when he pleasured himself it was to thoughts of Lisa.

He wasn't really happy with the situation; when he saw Wilson in the hallway or out on his balcony he really wanted to go over and talk to him, just hang out for a little while, tease each other and crack some jokes. All platonic. But that would be dangerous. He never meant to have more than platonic thoughts when they'd watched TV together, but he couldn't stop himself. House realised he was sacrificing his friendship with Wilson for Lisa, but every time this thought crossed his mind he reminded himself, bitterly, that the two had barely been friends anyway since Wilson had kicked him out. So how much was he really losing?

It was on the third day of House's avoidance tactic that Wilson noticed something was wrong and decided to confront him about it. House had just eaten lunch and was returning to his office. As he stepped into the elevator and selected his floor, Wilson came from the clinic. His eyes met House's from across the way and he came straight to the elevator without breaking eye contact. His expression clearly spoke that he wanted to talk to House. The diagnostician jabbed the 'close doors' button with his cane, and fortunately Wilson was far enough away that the elevator obeyed his command before the younger man reached him. Of course, not needing a cane to walk, Wilson would simply take the stairs and, if he hurried, he might make it to House's office before House, or even wait for the older man outside the elevator. So House decided to be sneaky, got off at the third floor, called the other elevator, and went to the roof to hide.

Twenty minutes later, Wilson found him. House heard him approaching and turned back to go inside. The younger man caught his eye and House shrugged. "Don't worry, I'm done here. It's all yours."

"House," Wilson said, moving to block the older man's exit. His hands were on his hips. "You've been avoiding me."

"No I haven't," House denied, attempting to sidestep him. "We just keep missing each other. Like now, for example, because I need to...go take a nap in an exam room. Can't do that up here; sun's too bright."

"Fine, if you're not avoiding me, then have lunch with me tomorrow," Wilson said, removing his hands from his hips so he could cross his arms. The roof was windy, and it was blowing through his hair and making his lab coat flap.

"Can't do it," the other man replied with a shrug. "Lunch date with Lisa. When I cancel lunch, she cancels sex."

"You're lying," Wilson responded, furrowing his brow and moving to block House's exit again. "You haven't made plans with her for lunch. You're avoiding me. Tell me why."

House looked down and sighed, tapping his cane on the ground. Well, if he really did want to, no, need to avoid Wilson forever, he couldn't do it without Wilson knowing. "I don't think we should see each other anymore," House said, turning serious.

Wilson stepped back as though the words had been a physical blow; he stared at the older man in shock. "What?" he said. "What are you talking about? Why?"

"You..." he tried to answer with a shrug. "We've both got girlfriends now. We spend time with them, not each other. Our friendship's been...diminishing. Don't pretend it hasn't."

"But we can change that," the younger man pointed out, taking a step closer to House. "We can...hang out more. We can start by having lunch tomorrow."

"No, we can't," House contradicted. "We hang out, our relationships with Sam and Lisa suffer. You spending more time with me has always signalled the end of a relationship for you, remember? And right now I'm with Lisa, which means she needs to come first in my life. We can't be friends anymore, Wilson. We're...we're done."

Wilson looked midway between shocked and crushed, but at least this time he didn't block House's way when the older man moved past him to go back inside. He didn't go to his office, but went to find a new hiding place. He needed to be alone right now.

.

This sucked. He hadn't felt this shitty since the night Hannah died and he'd almost taken Vicodin. He felt an overwhelming sense of loss and didn't know why. It shouldn't be this strong. The two men had been less than friends for months now. All House had done was formalise it. And it needed to be done. Not being around Wilson anymore was the only way he could love Lisa to his full potential, and she deserved that. Hopefully, in time, he would even fall out of love with Wilson and in love with Lisa, and they could be happy together.

Because being with her was the only way he could potentially be happy. If Wilson returned his feelings and they were in a relationship then maybe...but he didn't! And this was exactly why they needed to stop being friends! He needed to stop imagining what life would be like in a relationship with Wilson! This was what being with Wilson did to him, and all it did was make him miserable because it reminded him constantly that he could never have what he truly wanted.

Forget about Wilson! Move the fuck on! You've got Lisa now! You've wanted to be with Lisa since before you even met Wilson!

He was an ungrateful bastard. He didn't even deserve to be with Lisa. He waited for her for twenty-five years, and now that he had her all he could think about was Wilson. What kind of an asshole was he to be lusting after his best friend when he finally had this woman that he'd chased for years?

No. It was going to stop now. He wasn't going to see Wilson anymore, he wasn't going to think about Wilson anymore. Lisa was his life now.

.

He was quiet all night. They were lying in bed, and he was resting his head on her chest just below her breasts. He'd barely said anything all evening. He had one hand on her left thigh and was gently rubbing her skin. It wasn't even sexual. He just wanted to touch her, to be close to her. She was all he had left, and he loved her.

"Greg, is something wrong?" she asked, running a couple of fingers through his short hair. "You've been so quiet."

House sighed. "Me and Wilson...we're not friends anymore."

"Why?" she asked, sounding shocked. "You've been friends for years; what happened?"

"It's complicated," he said, shaking his head against her. "Doesn't matter. He's got Sam and I've got you. We'll be okay."

"I'm sorry," she said, completely sincere. She wrapped her arms around him and leaned her head to his, looking for a kiss. He lifted his head from her abdomen and granted her the kiss, and she leaned into him. They moved to rest on their sides, facing each other.

"I'm glad I've got you, Lisa," he whispered, eyes locked onto hers and meaning every word. "I...I don't know what I'd do..."

"Shh," she whispered back, kissing him again. "It'll be okay," she comforted, holding the back of his neck. Then she gave him a coy smile. "Let me help you forget about Wilson."

He smiled in return. That was exactly what he wanted.

.

House tried to tell himself it got easier with each passing day. Maybe it did. He and Lisa were doing well. He actually did eat lunch with her the day after he ended the friendship with Wilson, and he had a rather pleasant time. She was good at distracting him, and he was grateful for that. He noticed that he thought of Wilson less when he was spending time with her than any other part of the day.

It was a few days after the conversation on the roof, and House was eating lunch alone in the cafeteria. He'd avoided his and Wilson's usual table and "borrowed" Taub's wallet so he wouldn't have to pay for his own food.

He was lost in thought reminiscing about some of the things he and Lisa had done in bed the night before, and he didn't even notice that Wilson was in the room until the oncologist had seated himself at the table.

House was immediately brought out of his daze and his eyes clicked onto his former friend's. "What are you doing?"

"Eating lunch," the younger man responded almost defiantly.

"There are other tables," House pointed out with a gesture around the room.

"House, this is ridiculous," Wilson said, dropping his sandwich on his plate and sounding annoyed. "You don't want us to be friends anymore because you think it's a threat to our relationships. Guys don't dump their friends when they get a girlfriend, House."

"You do," House quipped without thinking.

Wilson's brows furrowed. "Is that what you think? House, I asked you to leave the condo, I didn't sever all ties with you."

"Well I'm severing ties with you," House responded, abandoning his half-eaten lunch and using his cane to push himself up. "I said I don't want to see you anymore."

"I think I deserve an explanation," Wilson retorted, getting up as well.

"And I think I deserve a cure for chronic pain," the older man snapped without looking at him. "It's done, Wilson. Get over it."

"Fuck you," Wilson muttered so that only House could hear.

"Got Lisa to do that now," House retaliated on his way out, not looking back to see the oncologist's expression.