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Happy At Home
by gena
Happy at Home
Cameron set the files down on House's desk with only her usual cursory glance at the letters, journals and tabloids scattered on top of it. House had been different lately but his chaotic desk gave no clue as to its cause. She had just started to turn away when movement on the balcony caught her eye - Dr. Wilson was leaning on his elbows staring down at the street as if something amazing were happening there. Impulsively Cameron pushed open House's door, a little surprised to see Wilson on House's side of the short brick wall that separated them. She'd always imagined Cuddy instructing workers to build the wall as a compromise to the two men and their strange friendship; it allowed them access to each other but made it difficult for House to pester Wilson all the time.
"Hi," she greeted the older man. Wilson straightened, smiling his perfunctory smile, letting it turn ironic when he saw who had greeted him.
"Allison," he said and settled his hip on the wall. "If you're looking for House he's hiding in the maternity lounge again, big doings on General Hospital today."
"I wasn't looking for him. I was just going to say he's been acting different these past couple of weeks, happier," she said slowly, studying the other doctor. Wilson, too, looked - different somehow. It took her a moment to pinpoint what it was, but soon she realized he appeared more relaxed than she had ever seen him before. Not to say James Wilson usually looked harried, his clothes were always perfect, his hair a gleaming chestnut wave across his forehead, his shoes polished like mirrors. No, James Wilson wasn't one to appeared ruffled in public - unless he'd just had a conversation with House, but despite his cool demeanor Wilson was never truly relaxed. He had one of the most high stress jobs a doctor could have, from all accounts his marriage was in a bad way and everyone knew his concern for House often ate him up inside. If a person knew him well enough they could see passed the faade of detached control he wore down to the churning emotion in his dark eyes.
Cameron didn't see any of that now. He stared at her with a bemused look, brown eyes twinkling with humor. "What is it?" He asked, still smiling.
"You - look happy, too."
Wilson dropped his gaze, shifting from foot to foot for a moment before giving a small laugh. "Uh, thanks," he said and glanced up at her. "Things are b-better lately," he said and blushed a little. "House says it's like living with Shirley Temple only my tap dancing is atrocious." Cameron started visibly and Wilson sighed, eyes closing and shoulders slumping, when he realized he'd just given himself away. It wasn't really a secret, the fact he'd moved into House's apartment, it was just that - they didn't want a lot of people knowing. The rumors about them never really went away and this would only add fuel to the fire.
"You're living with him?" Incredulity had colored her voice. Wilson and House living together? That was just plain weird.
"Yeah," Wilson admitted. "Julie and I are splitting up. I needed a place to stay and well, House took me in." He didn't tell her more than that, but could see a barely contained need to ask in her eyes.
"Oh, well, I bet that's - interesting," she said, fishing. Wilson only raised his eyebrows in response, his smile softening with affection. "I-I didn't - know - but it's good. Congratulations," she murmured, a faint trace of red staining her creamy cheeks. Wilson knew he should say something, anything to clear up what was obviously a miscommunication but couldn't really think of what to say. "House shouldn't be as alone as he is," Cameron said quietly, her face serious.
Wilson nodded, "No, he shouldn't. Now, I should get back to work." She frowned at his dismissal, but he schooled his features finding the grave countenance he used with patients and she turned away. Wilson watched her go, amused and not a little shocked she'd automatically jumped to the conclusion he and House were lovers. Still, he felt strangely touched by her concern for his friend. She cared about House and to tell the truth he welcomed it, sometimes being the only one who cared about House was overwhelming. Still, he couldn't bring himself to satisfy her curiosity, the thing between him and House was too intimate, too consuming to reveal even if only by description. He wasn't even sure he could have put it into words for her. Sharing space with House was odd to say the least but also gratifying in a unique way. Underneath the barbed banter and the childish games, there ran a connection so comforting and fulfilling it rivaled anything good he had ever felt in his life. Wilson shook his head and thought back to the night Julie had admitted her affair. He'd been devastated by her betrayal but perversely relieved as well. Wilson was realistic enough to know it would have only been a matter of time before his eye wandered. Julie had just beat him to it and saved him from donning his usual layers of guilt. It didn't ease the pain but it a twisted way it made him feel a little better about himself.
He'd gone to House's place because he could think of no other place to go. No one would understand what would make him turn to a man like House but Wilson knew deep down House would be there for him even if he pretended not to care. House wasn't sympathetic or kind and he wouldn't offer a shoulder to cry on, but what he gave was a weird sort of - absolution. House knew Wilson and accepted his frailties, and his unrelenting need just as Wilson knew and accepted House's addictions, and his driving independence. It was a good arrangement, one that made being friends easy and, remarkably, living together comfortable. Still, it had taken a little bit of getting use to. The first few nights he hadn't gotten much sleep because of the lumpy condition of the couch and each time he'd woken he could hear House moving around in his bedroom or see the faint glow of his light beneath the door. He knew House never slept very well, even before the infarction, he'd had trouble but since then pain and the demons that haunted his nights limited it to barely four or five hours a night. It wasn't until the third night, on the way back from using the bathroom and spotting the telltale light, that Wilson had impulsively knocked on House's door. He hadn't waited for an answer, just pushed it open and stared at the other man. House sat up in bed, books piled around him on the blankets, a magazine open across his lap.
There wasn't even a hint of awkwardness even in the first second. Wilson had just walked to the far side of the bed, thrown back the covers and slipped between the sheets. The weight of the books pulled the blankets tight around his legs and reminded Wilson of the way his mom use to tuck him into bed at night, it was comforting in its own way. House had given him an unreadable look, not saying a word and Wilson had chosen to interpret it as a welcome. He'd promptly closed his eyes, and fallen asleep with the books still between them. He did wake some time later to find House had dozed off, the magazine wrinkled under his slack hand. Wilson gently put it away, pulled the blankets up over House's shoulders and reached up to flip off the light. After that there had been no discussion, no teasing, and no doubt about where he slept, when he was ready for bed he went to House's room, it might be a few minutes or a couple of hours but House would limp in sooner or later. They might talk for a while, discussing a case or the movie they'd watched or even what House wanted for breakfast and then Wilson rolled over and went to sleep. He couldn't prove it, because House woke earlier than he did, but he felt sure that his friend was sleeping longer and deeper since they had started sharing a bed. House looked more rested in the mornings, his features just a little less haggard and he sometimes even smiled over morning coffee.
Leave it to Cameron to notice that they both looked happy. Happy. Were they? Had he ever been happy, really happy, before? Maybe but there was more to it this time - he was content. With House it was just so - not easy, not sweet and loving - House was cantankerous, bitter and selfish but somehow that was what he wanted and needed.
"What're you grinning at?" House's voice cut across his thoughts, making Wilson look up. House stood in the doorway, red mug in his hand, a smirk on his lips.
"Cameron." He could tell that obviously hadn't been the response House had expected, his smirk faltered and his eyes darkened to indigo. "She, uh, figured out I'm living at your place," Wilson admitted.
"Figured it out?" House limped closer, so close Wilson could smell the coffee on his breath. "How'd she figure it out, Jimmy? She notice that smear of mustard on your tie, add in the fact I like mustard - put two and two together and come up with the notion we're living together?"
"She noticed," Wilson felt his cheeks heat up with embarrassment, "she noticed we both looked - happy." House's eyes widened. "And then I might have told her I-I'd moved in to your place." He watched his friend closely, ready for any adverse reaction but when House blinked at him then began to laugh, Wilson wasn't sure if he felt relieved or scared. "What's so funny?"
"You outted us to Cameron," House pointed out.
Wilson's jaw dropped open, he stared at House in amazed confusion. "O-outted us!" He squeaked. "House! We haven't - I mean - it's not," Wilson stumbled to a stop, his own lips twitching until he, too, began to laugh. House shook his head and sat down beside him. "It's for the best, I suppose."
"Yeah," House agreed. "once we get matching rings people are going to talk anyway."
"So, we're getting rings?"
"You wanted matching tattoos?"
Wilson gave him a sideways glance. They'd never done anything but sleep beside each other, he'd never even thought about - more, but now - now that the idea had taken root Wilson was rather shocked to find it appealed to him. Somehow it seemed like a natural progression from being friends, to roommates to - lovers. "I think - I want to kiss you."
"Jimmy!" House looked horrified but the twinkle in his eye belied that. "I expect dinner and a movie first."
"How 'bout nachos and we can rent that Bruce Willis movie you want?"
House considered, "Okay." He settled on the wall next to Wilson, their shoulders pressed together. "So, you're going to stay for a while?" Wilson looked out over the street, at the lives going on all around him and wondered how people knew when they were on the right path. With each marriage he'd thought he found what he needed, what would make him happy but it had never worked out that way. Nothing had ever felt right. Beside him, House shifted, pulling away slightly and that tiny lose of warmth felt as if someone had laid his soul bare.
"House," he said softly and caught hold of his friend's wrist before House could get to his feet. "I want to stay for as long as you'll let me."
Fierce blue eyes, full of determination and something that looked a lot like lust, locked with his, knocking the breath from Wilson's lung in a gasp. "Forever, then?" House asked.
"Sounds about right," Wilson said, nodding. "Besides we can't disappoint Cameron, we're happy and besides keeping puppies from crying it makes her smile."
"Oh well, heaven forbid I make someone miserable," House said, rolling his eyes. Wilson laughed, a soul-deep sound of joy that made him realize just how long it had been since he'd truly felt real happiness.
"Come on," he said and helped House to his feet. "Let's go home."
"I like the sound of that," House said.
"Me, too," Wilson answered, smiling.
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Legal Disclaimer: The authors published here make no claims on the ownership of Dr. Gregory House and the other fictional residents of Princeton-Plainsboro Teaching Hospital. Like the television show House (and quite possibly Dr. Wilson's pocket protector), they are the property of Fox Television, David Shore and undoubtedly other individuals of whom I am only peripherally aware. The fan fiction authors published here receive no monetary benefit from their work and intend no copyright infringement nor slight to the actual owners. We love the characters and we love the show, otherwise we wouldn't be here.
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