Around 11 p.m. that night, House and Lucius were watching the tail end of a basketball game when they heard thumping and cursing from beyond the front door. House looked over at Lucius with a half smirk.
"He went drinking," he commented. "Should I let him in or let him work for it?" The cursing grew louder and Lucius chuckled.
"Better let him in before he rouses your neighbors."
House sighed and got to his feet. He stood at the door for a moment more, listening to Wilson's ineffectual efforts to find the key to a door that was unlocked in anticipation of his return, then jerked the door open, smirking as Wilson staggered into the apartment.
"House!" Wilson called out as he stumbled in. "House!"
"Get in here and sit down before you fall down," House ordered with a smirk, shaking his head at Wilson's uneven gait as he shut and locked the door. Wilson came around and plopped down onto the couch, very nearly sitting in Lucius' lap.
"Whoa! Sorry, didn't see you there," Wilson yelped as he settled onto the cushion. "Why are you still here anyway? He's a big boy, he can live alone. He's lived alone quite a long time, you know," Wilson added conspiratorially in an overloud whisper.
"Yes, I know," Lucius answered in an equally loud whisper.
"So why don't you leave?"
"Wilson, stop trying to throw out my guest," House said, rolling his eyes and thumping Wilson on the head with a throw pillow.
"Hey!" Wilson complained, pushing the pillow to the floor. "Seems like you're always with him now. Him or Marius. We used to do stuff together. You still like me don't you? Are you still mad about Sam moving in? I made you move out because of her."
"Yeah, I remember," House replied, handing Wilson a bottle of water before taking a seat in the armchair. "No, I'm not still mad and yes, I still like you."
"Oh good. That's good, 'cause I like you, House. I like you a lot. Always have no matter how crazy you act sometimes."
"Never boring," House commented.
"No, never. You're never boring, that's for sure," Wilson agreed with a wide grin. Just as quickly as it came, the grin fell away. "Why do you want to do this, House? Why for life? You've never wanted to commit like that before. You always buck the rules and authority. Why would you want to be a sub to a dom?"
"Wilson, we just got through answering those questions," House growled. "What the hell else do you want from me?"
"I want you to like me as much as you like him!" Wilson wailed miserably.
"What?" House asked, stunned at the confession.
"What's he give you that I don't? I give you money, food, let you stay at my place. Well, until I told you to move out. I shouldn't have done that. I'm sorry," Wilson continued to babble morosely.
"All right, come on, up," House said, grabbing Wilson's arm and tugging him to his feet. "You get in the shower right now. Move," he ordered, roughly turning Wilson around and giving him a nudge in the right direction.
Wilson staggered down the hall with House close behind him and began clumsily pulling off his clothes as they reached the bathroom. House set the water temperature to lukewarm and manhandled Wilson into the shower as soon as he was stripped.
"Ah! Hey, it's cold!" Wilson screeched, continuing to yelp as House held him in place under the water for another minute until he seemed to regain some of his senses.
"I'll put some sleep pants and a tee out for you," House told him then left the bathroom. He put the promised clothes on the end of the bed and returned to the living room where Lucius was watching a late night talk show.
"Got him sobering up?" Lucius asked.
"Cold shower," House responded shortly. "Then he can sleep it off and things can go back to normal in the morning."
"You aren't going to discuss this with him?" Lucius asked, eyes narrowed and reading House's state of mind as he watched him pulling out blankets and pillows.
"Hell no. He'll be in full denial mode in the morning."
"And you?"
House paused and looked toward the bathroom for a moment. "I will be too. I can't deal with Wilson right now. I don't know what he really wants and I don't think he does either. I can't risk being wrong with him."
Lucius nodded, having received a much more honest answer than he had expected. "I understand. Tonight provided him some information and he certainly hasn't had the time to process it. What are the sleeping arrangements then?"
House was relieved that Lucius accepted his desire to drop the conversation for now. "I'll sleep with Wilson in the bedroom. He tends to wander when he's drunk; I can keep an eye on him that way. That leaves you the couch," he answered, bringing the pillows and blankets over and setting them down on the arm of the couch.
"That works for me. Try to sleep not worry about his reaction tomorrow. If you have trouble, come out to me," Lucius told him as he stood to remove his belt and dress shirt.
"Yeah. Good night," House muttered and returned to the bedroom to get into his own sleep pants and settle into bed with a book. A few minutes later, Wilson peeked out of the bathroom, spotted the sleep clothes and emerged with a towel around his waist to get dressed.
"Lucius is taking the couch, so get in," House said gruffly as soon as Wilson was dressed.
"Oh. Okay," Wilson agreed, climbing into the bed and burrowing under the comforter his back to House. He sighed and fidgeted until House rolled his eyes and tossed the book aside. He turned off the bedside lamp and settled in himself.
"Everything's okay, Wilson. Go to sleep," House told him quietly and was rewarded with a soft hum of relief from his bunkmate. Soon enough, Wilson was sound asleep.
House tried to fall asleep but he couldn't stop his mind from creating catastrophic scenarios as a result of tonight's efforts to answer Wilson's questions. Was Wilson really jealous of House's relationship with Marius? It hadn't changed the time he spent with Wilson in any way or what they did together. They still watched monster trucks, sports, and porn. They went out to bars and ate a lot of takeout food while destroying soap operas that Wilson had on TIVO. The only thing that had changed was that he no longer needed Wilson to rescue him and be the sounding board of his conscience. But now that he thought about it, that was a pretty intimate role to fill for someone and Wilson had filled that role for him for 15 years. Now it belonged to Marius.
House rolled over onto his side and propped his head on his elbow, staring at Wilson who was hanging onto his pillow for dear life. Over the last few years, he'd slowly become more cautious with what he shared with Wilson. He couldn't trust him as completely as he once had; all too often he shared private thoughts with Cuddy and they got used against him. And he'd been hurt deeply by Wilson a couple of times in the last year alone. Wilson didn't even acknowledge what he'd done. That was the crux of the problem. House, through his work with Nolan at Mayfield, had come to accept and bear the responsibility for his part in their issues. Wilson was in denial about his. There was no way he could let Wilson get any closer than he was until that was solved.
Then there was Sam. She was bound to leave Wilson anytime and send him into another tailspin. He couldn't afford to put himself in a vulnerable spot. Wilson would be looking for someplace to put blame and House wasn't going to be his whipping boy this time. He'd moved out with little fuss when Sam reappeared in Wilson's life even though he hadn't been ready to live on his own yet. He wasn't going to accept responsibility for this one. He rolled over and punched his pillow, trying to will his mind to shut off and go to sleep for over an hour before admitting defeat and making his way out to the living room.
Lucius was sleeping and House hesitated to wake him up. Surely this wasn't that big of a deal was it? Maybe just sitting out here for a while would be enough. He settled in the arm chair with a finger of bourbon and tried to doze off to no avail. Finally, he reached over and touched Lucius' arm.
"Lucius," he called a couple of times, waiting until he opened his eyes and focused on House. "Sorry but you said…"
"Yes, I did, so don't be sorry," Lucius interrupted, sitting up patting the cushion next to him. House moved over to the couch, not resisting in the least when Lucius wrapped an arm around him and pulled him close.
"What are you thinking?" Lucius asked.
"I can't trust Wilson. Not for any more than he and I have right now. He may even use what we told him tonight against me. I don't want to lose him but… I can't keep taking all the blame for what happens between us."
"There's no reason you should. Marius and I will do what we can to help you and to protect you from him as well."
"You don't need to protect me from Wilson."
"We'll be the judge of that," Lucius intoned firmly. "We won't let him hurt you if we can help it. Stay right there," he told him, getting up to move some of the furniture around. He pulled the coffee table off to one side then put the recliner against the front of the sofa. Reclined, they would be laying mostly side by side.
"Which would you like?"
"The couch is better for me," House answered.
"Then lie down," Lucius told him, settling down in the recliner and rolling onto his side to let his palm rest on House's chest. "You're not facing this alone. Try to rest your mind. Concentrate on your breathing and rest." It took about half an hour, but House was able to fall asleep at last.
Wilson woke up in the morning with a pounding headache. He opened his eyes blearily, thankful that the curtains were drawn, to find a glass of water and some aspirin on the side table. He could smell coffee wafting down the hallway. House must be up and feeling generous, he thought, as he sat up and took the aspirin. He made his way into the bathroom, relieved himself and brushed his teeth, then padded out into the living room. He stopped, puzzled to see House sound asleep on the sofa, then jumped when Lucius called out quietly from the kitchen.
"Do you want your coffee black, Dr. Wilson?"
"What? Oh, yes, black please," Wilson answered quietly, coming out into the kitchen. "I thought House was in the bed last night," he ventured.
"He couldn't sleep and didn't want to wake you," Lucius answered, handing him a steaming mug.
"Thank you," Wilson said, taking a couple of deep, appreciative swallows.
"Forgive me if I sound paranoid, but since I don't really know you, I want to urge you to keep what you learned of our lifestyle last night to yourself. You know well that he is a private man."
"Yes, yes I do," Wilson agreed. "So private it creates issues for him. Oh, don't worry," he added when Lucius was about to speak again, "I won't tell anyone about what I learned last night."
"I wish I had more confidence in your judgment on the matter," Lucius said in a dark tone of voice.
"What?" Wilson asked, startled and a bit offended.
"Who are you to decide that he is 'too private' for his own good?"
"I'm his best friend! And it's true. If he just opened up to people a little bit, they'd understand him better and he wouldn't have so many problems."
"That makes it sound as though you believe he is at fault for these so-called problems."
"No, well, not all the time but most of the time. He's just different, he doesn't know how to relate to people."
"He relates to me and mine perfectly well. Perhaps it is you and his colleagues that have problems relating to people who don't fit into your perfect mold. I suggest that you think about your friendship with House, Dr. Wilson. He has undergone some drastic personal growth recently and I don't believe you have adjusted to that. Perhaps you don't even like it, only you can tell that. But to go out and get drunk over your friend's choice of lifestyle, to not go home to the woman you are living with or even call her… I find that disturbing."
Wilson was sputtering with anger but couldn't put a coherent thought together. He dumped the coffee in the sink, giving the cup a quick wash and setting it on the counter to dry before getting his coat and leaving the apartment. House sighed and sat up when he heard the outer door close. "You didn't need to do that. I can handle Wilson."
"I told you that I am not about to let him hurt you. It's time his way of thinking was challenged," Lucius answered, coming into the living room and handing House a cup of coffee. "And I think you agree, or you would have spoken up while he was still here. I know you were awake."
House grunted noncommittally and sipped on his coffee as Lucius got his own cup and turned on the morning news. While it scared him to confront Wilson and risk losing his friendship, it comforted him to have Lucius see the issues and take Wilson to task on his behalf. He was beginning to believe that this thing with Marius and Lucius really was permanent; that he wouldn't be alone if Wilson walked away again. It was the first time in his life that he dared to even consider that a possibility and he wished now that he hadn't severed his ties with Nolan. For once, he'd have liked to talk this through with someone objective.