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They're not sure when, or how, it happened, but it happened.
Something changed. They sat closer on the couch now, House’s bedroom had become their shared bedroom, Wilson had decided House’s old shirts make far better pajamas than his own.
The progression was natural, and at first, neither of them even noticed. Neither noticed the way their hands would slowly work close to each other, neither noticed that House was slowly stealing more and more of Wilson’s button-ups. But, Wilson crawling into bed with House, House wrapping his arms tight around Wilson’s midsection, pressing kisses to the back of his neck, Wilson gently waking House up to light kisses all across his face, that they noticed.
They both decide the change was welcomed.
They figured no one else had noticed. If even they missed it at first then surely no one else had picked up on how House’s hand lingered on Wilson’s when they handed each other coffee or noticed how Wilson’s smile had suddenly gotten wider, warmer, despite the recent divorce.
Except for the fact nearly everyone had noticed. Foreman left it alone. For one he didn't really care but more importantly, House was being notably nicer, and Foreman’s never was one to look a gifted horse in the mouth. Chase had noticed the change in House, how he smiled more, and looked less tired and miserable, hell if Chase had been bothering to keep track (which he wasn’t, not consciously at least) he’d even say House was taking less Vicodin. Cameron, the meddler she was, noticed how House and Wilson always came into work at the same time, how she could have sworn she saw that exact same shirt on Wilson the other day, and how if she didn’t know any better she’d say she saw them blushing at each other.
Wilson never slept on the couch anymore, late at night he’d even find himself saying things like ‘you're hogging my side of the bed’ his side. Neither comment on it. No one comments on how Wilson makes them both breakfast every morning, neither comment on House starts doing their laundry, neither comment on how plenty of Wilson’s old belongings have found their way into the apartment, looking like they had always been there. They never say it out loud, they press it into each other's lips, they hand it to each other in perfect cups of coffee, they wrap it around each other's arms and never let go. But they never say it aloud.
At least not until they really, really have to.
As a shock to absolutely no one, one of the nurses has been flirting with Wilson for quite some time. She’s beautiful, Wilson would be the first to admit. She’s got tight brown curls that frame her face well, and lips that were warm and inviting. In the past, Wilson would have said they looked rather kissable, but not now. He doesn't even notice things like that anymore.
House notices though. He notices the way she sways her hips when she walks by his office, the way she twirls those tight curls around her finger when she talks to his- To Wilson. Sue him if he’s a bit possessive, he likes Wilson, and for more than just his warm brown eyes and soft sweet voice. For more than just his sharp high cheekbones and cute hair swoop. For more than just his tall frame and strong yet pretty hands. He likes Wilson because well, it’s Wilson.
House is sitting in his office, leaning back as far in his chair as is comfortable, throwing his red ball across the room to hit the glass wall and bounce back to his hands. He’s done this exact thing so many times he doesn't even have to look anymore, which is good considering his eyes are busy burring holes into the back of the pretty nurse's head. His fellows sit in the main room, clear view to House’s entirely unhidden grimace. Foreman says nothing, but does tell Chase to leave it be when he points out that House looks genuinely furious. Cameron’s the only one who bothers to follow where House’s gaze leads, and it takes her right to that pretty nurse. That pretty nurse who’s standing with her hips at an angle, who’s got her head cocked to one side, twirling one of her tight curls. That pretty nurse who’s looking right up at Wilson. Ah, that explains the grimace.
House’s pout only tightens further as he sees a warm (but very clearly fake, not that anyone but House would know) smile spread across Wilson’s face. He watches the nurse giggle in faux innocence and he watches her dainty hand land on Wilson's lean forearm. House almost jumps up out of his seat at that. Then, to his pleasant surprise, he watches Wilson jerk away,
hard.
He sees Wilson’s smile drop and be replaced with wide surprised eyes and a nervous sputter that House can’t read from the distance. Then he watches the pretty nurse, looking far more petty than pretty now, walk away doing her best (and failing) to not look angry. House sits up a bit straighter in his seat when Wilson turns to him through the glass walls of his office. Wilson shrugs a bit, and smiles (a real one this time, House notes with pride) and offers a small wave. House waves back.
Cameron's eyes go wide as she smiles a bit, Chase restates that he still doesn't get what’s funny and would appreciate an explanation. Foreman just sighs.
The car ride home is quiet; House speeds up so that he can make it through a yellow light and squeezes Wilson’s thigh possessively. Wilson just has his hand resting softly overtop, running his thumb up and down House’s hand. Wilson peers out the window and finally breaks the silence.
“A Nurse asked me out on a date today” He feels House squeeze again. Wilson lets his head fall, and gazes lazily to the other side of the car, so he can look at the way House’s face momentarily tightens with anger.
“Lucky number 4 then? Maybe you should take her name this time. Mrs.Wilson is starting to sound a bit old.” It’s a joke, clearly, seeing as how Wilson recently had his address officially changed to be his and House’s shared apartment. But he could swear House’s voice is laced with something, jealousy, and possessiveness sure, but more importantly, Wilson thinks he hears just the smallest bit of fear.
“I said no, House.” He’s using the fake disappointment voice he knows House is so endeared by. Not the one he uses when House ignores some medical law, or gets in trouble for breaking into a patient's home. It’s the one he uses House spills coke over his shirt on purpose because he wants to wear one of Wilson's old sweatshirts but can’t bring himself to just ask.
“‘Dr. James ‘Panty Peeler’ Wilson refusing a date? We ought' to call a mechanic seeing as Cuddy’s office must have frozen over” Though he chuckles at the joke, Wilson doesn't miss the way House’s possessive grip loosens a bit, how his shoulders fall and he seems to sit far more comfortably in the car.
“I told her I was seeing someone” This is the hard part.
“Oh?” Wilson doesn't miss the sly grin that tugs at the one side of House’s face, and the way his eyes fall to Wilson in the rearview mirror. “Are you now?”
Wilson shrugs, and taps House’s hand a few times, keep playing it off as a joke, jokes are easier, that’s how he can get House to say it out loud. “I’m not sure, are you?” his voice raises at the end in faux curiosity.
House squeezes yet again and laughs, though it's more a low rumble, caught somewhere in this throat. “Yeah.” It sounds very genuine for a moment. “The sex is great, but he’s way too needy for my taste, I’ve been thinking of dumping him.”
Wilson laughs, really laughs, and tugs a bit at the arm House has extended over the dashboard. “Oh yeah? Then maybe I'll let that Nurse know I’m open for business after all.” Not a second goes by before the grip on Wilson’s thigh becomes a vice that he’s sure will end up bruising.
“Hmph.” House is looking at Wilson through tight eyes in the rearview mirror. “I don’t know, maybe I’ll keep my boyfriend around, I hardly have to do dishes anymore with him in the apartment.”
There it is.
Wilson
beams
. His fingers lace between House’s, in part for the closeness and, less importantly to Wilson, to get House to let go a bit. “Boyfriend?” His voice is far too high and hopeful for a 38-year-old with three ex-wives.
House smiles at him in the mirror again, but it’s not a sly grin, or pulled taught across his face, it’s warm there, it looks right, the stumble pressing up against his cheeks, his eyes ever so crinkled, Wilson wishes House could look that happy forever.
“Yeah, Boyfriend.”
They’ve just about made it home now, House is pulling into his spot in the parking lot for their building. Wilson steps out of the car and walks around to the driver’s side, handing House his cane and helping him get out, and before House has the chance to close the car door behind him, Wilson pulls him into a tight hug. His face is pressed into the crook of House’s neck and he feels House's arms slowly relax onto his back, then he feels House let most of his weight fall onto Wilson's shoulders.
“I love you, House.”
House grumbles a bit against Wilson’s head and thwacks him in the calf with his cane.
“Love you too”
There it is.
–
The morning after goes as usual. Wilson wakes up first and showers, then makes himself and House coffee, which he carries into the bedroom and sets on the bedside table before pressing a soft kiss to House’s temple to wake him up. How they got to this level of domesticity without ever saying ‘I love you’ is beyond him.
House grumbles a bit and shifts to lie on his belly before he takes the coffee in hand and drinks far too much of it in one sip, Wilson just chuckles.
“Breakfast will be ready in ten” Wilson presses his palm in House’s shoulder blade and feels himself go warm inside at the appreciative hum House gives. He slips out of the bedroom and into the kitchen, House joining him 10 minutes later. They eat in relative silence, both preferring quiet mornings and drive into work together.
Now even Foreman can’t pretend it’s not odd. House is smiling before he even walks into the office, he offers a quiet but well-meaning “Morning” to his fellows before he picks up the red folder sitting on the table and motions them to start explaining the details of the most recent case. When it’s finally Cameron’s turn to talk she only manages to get about 15 words out before Wilson walks in. He’s carrying two coffee cups. One’s bigger, meaning it’s probably House’s. That’s proven true when Wilson reaches his hand out to give it to House, who lets his hand fall still overtops Wilson’s for far longer than could ever be passed off for a mistake.
“Grab me a few sugars?” It's more a demand than a request, but Wilson walks over to the coffee pot and all its little accessories anyway. Oddly enough, Cameron notes, House follows him. Wilson has to stretch a bit to reach the cupboards where they keep the little sugar packets, and as he does House steps up behind him and wraps his arms tightly around Wilson's midsection before pressing a kiss into the exposed portion of his neck.
Cameron and Foreman both share a similar wide-eyed mouth-agape expression, although the ends of Cameron’s mouth tug into a smile. Chase sputtered on his coffee when he finally turned around to see what the others were so surprised at.
They all watch Wilson’s face go bright red. So flustered in fact that he drops the few sugar packets he had been holding, which House quickly reaches around him to pick up. He returns to his coffee and dumps them in, stirring it with a pen he had stolen from Wilson a few seconds ago.
House takes a large sip from his coffee, then looks across the sea of shocked faces (Wilson’s included) feeling satisfied with himself. He plays dumb, it’s much more fun that way “What? Do I have something on my face?”
Chase bangs his knee on the table when he goes to stand up, almost toppling over when he falls back into his chair “What- wh- What do you mean what? You just kissed Wilson!” Cameron’s hardly containing her laughing now, leaning back a bit in her chair while she covers her mouth, Foreman just stares forward blankly.
House looks at Chase like he’s stupid, and while that is true, he’s only doing it because it’s funny to see Chase so confused. “Ah-duh, he’s my Boyfriend.” Wilson practically squeaks from the other side of the room, face somehow getting even redder before he finally starts to make his way out of the room. Just before Wilson’s made it all the way out, House hooks the end of Wilson’s lab coat with his cane and tugs a bit, drawing Wilson back in his direction. Wilson opens his mouth to stutter out an entirely non-convincing excuse as to why he needs to leave, but it’s quickly closed when House presses a kiss to it.
House pushes Wilson on the chest gently to usher him away, and Wilson finally,
finally
opens the glass door, he pushes past a nurse and huffs out an “Excuse me.” as he speed walks to his office. House looks right up at the nurse, the very same pretty nurse who had asked Wilson out yesterday, and he waves, taking a sip from the coffee Wilson bought him. He watches as she blinks a few times then storms off as much as is appropriate in a hospital.
House turns back to his fellows, taps the side of the red folder against the table, and looks out again at their shocked faces. “Oh don’t act like it wasn’t obvious! hell, I bet half of oncology just won a handsome bet, now come on we’ve still got a patient here!” House runs his fingers along the rim of his coffee cup, and just now notices the heart drawn on in a sharpie.
A welcomed change for sure.