Wilson calls him a few days later. House let's it ring for a moment before answering.
“You've reached Doctor Gregory House”, he says.
“Hello.” Wilson's voice sounds a bit unsure. “I just wanted to call and say that I'm free next weekend, in case you want to meet?”
House pretends to think about it. “Yeah, next weekend would work.”
“Good.” There is a pause. “Where should we meet? Do you want me to come to your place?”
“Sure, why not.”
“I'll send you the address.”
“Everything all right?”
“What? No, perfect. I'll see you on Friday.”
Wilson hangs up. House stares at the phone for a moment, before sending a text with his address. He can't help but feel nervous.
Wilson rings the bell at exactly 8PM, right on time. House had changed his clothes three times, before changing back into what he'd been wearing all day. Why put up any amount of pretence? When he opens the door, he curses himself.
Wilson is wearing a green polo shirt of which the buttons have been left open and a pair of jeans. He looks positively hot. House stares at him.
“Hi”, Wilson says a bit unsure. His head is slightly tilted downwards which exaggerates the fact that he has to look up at House. He steps forward.
“Hi.” This is awkward. They both don't know what to do. Shit! House has to do something! He stretches out his hand and pulls the young man in for a kiss. Immediately, he can feel Wilson's shoulders relax. Wilson grabs his shirt and pushes against him, shoves him into the flat, crossing the doorstep. House swings the door shut while still holding onto Wilson.
“So, this is my hallway”, he says between kisses.
“Fascinating!” Wilson barely lets him speak. “Where's your bedroom?”
They are lying in bed together. This time Wilson isn't asleep. He is pressed against House's side, left arm on his torso, head resting on House's shoulder. House's hand is in Wilson's hair, slightly moving.
“I've missed you”, Wilson says in a soft voice.
Wilson raises his head to look at him. “Not only the sex, but you.”
“When I came home, Sam and I had a huge fight. I told her to shut up and she became hysterical. I apologised a thousand times, but she wouldn't let it go. I feel like I've told you to shut up at least once every day and you've never complained...”
“I just let it fester until it breaks out all at once and I shave your head while you are sleeping”, House says as earnestly as he can.
Wilson smiles. “No, you don't.”
It's silent for a moment.
“I sleep in a hotel now”, Wilson adds: “It's not as nice as you might think.”
House thinks. Long and hard.
“House? You still awake?”
“Maybe you could live with me.”
Wilson's hand slides up his torso, as the young man props himself up on his elbow to get a full look at his face. “You're joking!”, he says.
“Why? You need somewhere to stay, I have plenty of space.”
“You didn't even want to give me your phone number and now you are asking me to move in with you? After knowing me for what, a weekend? That's crazy!”
“It is. But this way we'll know straight away if this works or not.”
This is it. Now Wilson is going to leave.
“What?”, House stares at him in disbelieve.
“You're right. Why not? If this goes horribly wrong, I can still look for a new place.”
House blinks. “You're insane! I could be a serial killer for all you know!”
“I think you would have told me, if you were.”
The smile on Wilson's face is an easy one, careless. House doesn't know what to say.
“I'm going to pay you half of the rent and the money I owe you for bailing me out.” Wilson sounds determined.
“I think you have paid me back for that plenty”, House says with a smirk. Wilson frowns.
“I'm not going to be your live-in maid who cleans and cooks. I'm going to pay the rent just as anyone else would.”
“I was more thinking live-in sex slave, but if you insist...”
“I do!” Wilson bends down to press a kiss against his lips. “Thank you!”
It all goes much better than they both expected. Wilson does indeed do a lot of cooking and cleaning but he complains so frequently to House about it, that he never starts harbouring a grudge. House realises pretty quickly that Wilson is an excellent sparring partner when it comes to blaming stuff on each other but despite all of that, Wilson apparently never stays angry at him for anything at all. House steals his food and uses his toothbrush to clean his shoes but as long as he puts the milk deep into the fridge and not the door, they seem to be fine.
Sometimes, House drives home during the day and tapes Wilson's favourite show. After all, he can still both talk to his team and avoid the patient over the phone.
When there is an opening in the oncology department at Princeton-Plainsboro, he suggests that Wilson should apply.
“I got the job!”, Wilson says, letting himself fall down on the couch next to House. Leaning against his boyfriend, he raises his feet onto the couch as well.
“Told you, she would hire you. Cuddy likes the thought of having someone at work who can handle me.”
Wilson frowns. “I don't handle you. You barely listen to anything I say.”
“But she doesn't know that.”
House throws an arm around him and starts brushing his hand through Wilson's hair.
“I can see why you like her”, Wilson goes on: “She has a strong character. She's also very attractive.”
“All real”, House remarks.
“You slept with her?”
“One time. That bother you?”
“Not really. Did you tape my soap?” Wilson raises his left arm to get House's hand out of his hair and intertwine their fingers. House smiles.
“Taped and ready.”
It takes a bit more than a month for Wilson to show up in his office with a case. File in hand, he walks in and is immediately met by three interested and one fond look.
“I got a case for you.” He says, raising the file.
House turns and gives his team the once-over. “Before any rumours start: Yes, ladies and gentlemen, this incredibly handsome, young doctor is my boyfriend.” He looks back at Wilson: “Why don't you come over here and kiss me to confirm?”
Wilson raises his eyebrows. He looks at the team, then at House. There is a mischievous expression on his face. 'I see what you are trying to do', it seems to say: 'If you are trying to make me uncomfortable, you will fail.”
He walks over to House, eyes fixed only on him. As he reaches him, he hooks his foot behind the left hind leg of the chair House is sitting on and pulls it back in a swift motion so that he is father away from the table. In the next instance, he swing his left leg over both of House's and sits down in his lap, facing him. Grabbing his neck and face with both hands, he Kisses him in a manner that is very inappropriate for the workplace. As he pulls back, House stares at him, completely overwhelmed.
Wilson smiles. He gets up, tossing the file on the table. His gaze wanders over the team, then back to House.
“Good day”, he says, still with the mischievous smile on his face.
“You too”, House manages to say. His voice is very soft. He stares at Wilson as if he still couldn't believe it.
His team, very smartly, decides not to comment.
“We should get married”, House declares one evening. They are sitting on the couch together, playing video games.
Wilson continues to look at the screen. “You want free access to my bank account?”, he asks.
“I already have free access to your bank account through you. No. I think it's smart. We live together. We could save some taxes. And It would make you my proxy in medical emergencies. I trust you more than my family to know what I want and actually do it. So, why not?”
There is a moment of silence.
“You know, you don't have to make up all these reasons. You could just tell me you love me and that you want to get married.”
“You started it.”
Silence again. Wilson is focusing on the game intently.
“Fine!”, House says finally: “I love you and I want to show that through an antiquated, societally approved certificate, issued by the state that grants us legal advantages!” He bites his teeth together.
“There, was that so hard?”
Wilson smiles and shakes his head. “I love you too, House, and I want to spend the rest of my life with you. So, yeah, why not get married?” He pauses before continuing in a sterner voice. “But I'm not taking your last name.”
“You being able to call me 'House' is a level of narcissism I do not want to endorse. Especially during sex.”
House smirks. There is a playful look on his face. “I could call you Jimmy...”
“Yeah. That's exactly what I want to hear when I'm fucking you...”
House pauses the game. “Oh, Jimmy! Oh, Yes, Jimmy. Give it to me, Jimmy!”, he pours.
Wilson shoots him a look. “If you don't shut up, I will!”, he threatens.
The mischievous smile on House's face is enough. Wilson grabs him and kisses him before he can even say another word.
“Wilson”, House says as soon as he can speak again.
Wilson smiles. “House”, he says: “Let's get married.”
“Oka! Who's going to be best man?”
“Dibs on Cuddy.”
House frowns. “Fine, I'll take Stacy.”
“So the two best men at our wedding will be women? That's very cliché.”
“I don't care”, House says and kisses him again. And it's true, he doesn't care, as long as Wilson is with him.
House's leg hurts. It hurts so much, he thinks he is going to die. Wilson drives him to the hospital but they can't find what's wrong with it. Every second is pure agony. When they finally figure it out, it's too late, his muscle is as good as dead.
But, of course, House has an idea. He always does. He lets himself be put into a coma so that he doesn't have to endure the pain. Save his leg. There will be no amputation.
“It's all going to be fine”, he says, holding Wilson's hand. Looking into those concerned, caring brown eyes. Maybe for the last time.
“I love you”, Wilson says.
“I'll see you later.” Then, House is asleep.
Wilson looks at him. Heartbroken. There's nothing he can do.
Cuddy walks in. She sees what has happened and puts her hand on Wilson's shoulder.
“There might be another option”, she says.
Wilson looks up at her with what House calls his 'puppy dog stare'.
“What do you mean?”
“We could remove part of his dead muscle. It would be a middle way between what he is trying to do now and amputation. He would be able to walk but most likely, he'd be in constant pain.”
Wilson looks at House, at his peaceful expression. He remembers the conversation they had.
“No”, Wilson's voice sounds sure: “That's not what he wants.”
Cuddy stays persistent. “There is a high chance that he will die while being in this coma. Removing part of the muscle might be the only way to save his life. I know he is stubborn but you are his husband. Right now, it's your decision.”
“No. It's his leg. His decision.” Wilson can feel the tears build up in his eyes.
“It's very likely that this will kill him.”
“I know. But if I do this against his will, he'll wonder for the rest of his life what it would have been like, if it would have worked. I cannot do this to him!”
Cuddy removes her hand from his shoulder. Suddenly, she sounds angry. “This is madness! You are supporting his self destructive, totally irrational behaviour!”
“I'm his husband. That's my job.”
“No, your job is to take care of him.”
Wilson stares at her furiously. “I said no! Now leave me alone!”
Cuddy opens her mouth, then closes it. “As you wish”, she says and leaves.
Wilson collapses on the nearest chair. His head buried in his hands, he starts to cry.
It's only the next morning that he hears a slight whisper.
Wilson darts upwards, all tiredness forgotten.
“House!”, he says, grabbing his husband by the arm and shoulder: “You're awake! It worked! Oh, thank God!”
“I don't know what God should have to do with that, but if you insist...” House still sounds very weak.
“Oh, shut up!” Wilson is smiling brightly. His eyes are sparkling in the light. It makes him look so incredibly young. “This was the hardest thing I've ever done! They told me you would die. And now... you were right! I did the right thing!”
“That's quite the relive.”
House raises his hand to grab Wilson's forearm.
“Thank you”, he says very sincerely: “For doing what I wanted and not letting them get to you. I love you.”
“I love you too! Always have and always will.”
House smiles. He is truly a very lucky man.