#hilsonvignettes

[babyboywilson]

house and wilson are absolutely the type to get married and then divorced 6 months later and then they miss each other and get married again a few weeks later only to get divorced 4 months after that. and this is why house is constantly mocking wilson for always getting divorced because he’s the one divorcing wilson all the time.

like. house talking to a patient one day and being like “you need an oncologist, let me page my ex-husband,” but foreman had already paged wilson a few minutes ago and wilson walks in right as house says that and wilson says “wait, why am i your ex-husband again? we only just got married again last week at the courthouse,” and house turns around and is like “yes, well, you stole the last pb&j sandwich from the fridge this morning and I was saving that. you’ll find my ring on top of a stack of divorce papers on your desk.”

wilson convinces house to shred the divorce papers and put the ring back on his finger later that afternoon after a desperate and frantic quickie in wilson’s office that leaves house breathless and, for the first time in a long time, speechless

[babyboywilson]

thinking about wilson getting married to women because he thinks that’s what he’s supposed to do. and every time he ends up divorced and hurt, he goes right back to house. wilson shows up on house’s doorstep and mutters “I need you” and house caves every single time because he thinks maybe this time it’s real, maybe this time wilson will want him enough to stay. and in those weeks and months that follow, when they’re tangled in the sheets together, gasping shaky breaths into each other’s mouths, when wilson utters that he loves house… house wants to believe him. but deep down he knows it’s not what wilson means. a few weeks later, wilson is seeing another woman; taking her out on dates and saying that he thinks she’s the one this time, he’s sure. wilson moves out of house’s apartment and their relationship shifts back into easy friendship. house swears this is the last time he’ll let wilson mess with his head like this. but house is weak. he knows he won’t ever say no to wilson when wilson comes knocking on his door

[babyboywilson]

wilson finds house passed out asleep in the chair in the corner of his office after a long day. he knows the underlings are still around running tests and that’s why house is still there this late at night. quietly, wilson shrugs off his hoodie and drapes it over house’s chest to keep him warm before leaving for the night. the next day, house is walking around wearing the hoodie acting like it’s his own. a week later, house is in wilson’s office lounging on the couch while wilson is working on paperwork. house catches the way wilson shivers out of the corner of his eye. “cold?” house asks without looking up from his game. wilson hums vaguely but only looks up in confusion when house suddenly gets up and marches out of the room. shaking his head, wilson goes back to work while idly wondering why him being cold was strange enough to make house leave. a couple minutes later, house walks back in with wilson’s hoodie and he hands it back to him. “oh, i forgot i’d given it to you. thanks,” wilson says, sliding it on over his shirt with a content sigh. house gives him a strange look, caught somewhere between curious and fond before he flops back down on the couch. a few days later, wilson deliberately leaves the hoodie in the kitchen area of house’s office, hoping that house will wear it again. when he sees house walking around later that day wearing the hoodie again, wilson’s heart skips a couple beats and he can’t help the smile that crosses his lips. he quite likes seeing house walking around the hospital wearing his hoodie knowing everyone else that works there knows it’s wilson’s hoodie and that they’re sharing clothes

[babyboywilson]

house leaves early one day while chase, cameron, and foreman are in the lab running countless tests to determine what bacterial infection their patient has. “what, you got a date or something?” chase teases once he spots house leaning casually against the door to the lab. and house grins as he replies, “taking the old ball and chain out tonight.” then he winks and disappears out the door. for the rest of the night, the team tries to decipher what house meant. cameron is convinced house has a secret wife he’s been hiding from the team, foreman is adamant no one would ever date house and therefore he’s messing with their heads, and chase thinks house has rented an escort for the night.

the next morning, the team runs into wilson on their way to house’s office. wilson is carrying a poster in his hands and he’s smiling. “woah, you went to the concert last night?” chase asks, motioning to the poster. wilson’s smile turns into a dazzling beam as he replies, “we did. it was a great surprise.” before the team can push who wilson meant by ‘we’, wilson disappears into his office and house rounds the corner towards them. house is wearing a concert tshirt. from the same concert that wilson went to. house smirks as he watches the team draw their own conclusions. foreman darts his gaze between house and wilson’s office before shaking his head and focusing back on the results from their testing. cameron mutters a quiet “we” as she looks down and notices house is wearing a ring on his finger for the first time since she’s known him. chase grins, pointing at the oncologist’s open office door as he asks, “did you and the old ball and chain have a good time at the concert last night?” house moves to walk into his own office, glancing back at the team as he replies with a cocky, “we did.”

[babyboywilson]

thinking about a ‘the proposal’ au where house is told by the board that because of his snarky attitude and the eccentric way he runs his department, the way he can earn tenure at the hospital is if he has some connection that ties him to the hospital along with the years required working there and house blurts out that he’s engaged to wilson so he clearly has a tie to the hospital. but wilson has only been working at princeton plainsboro for a year and sure house and wilson are friendly but they’re not that close yet and half the time wilson still doesn’t know how to handle being around house for more than a few hours without going crazy. and when he finds out house has said they’re engaged… wilson is both furious and impressed. house may also have manipulated wilson into going along with the plan with saying he’d get wilson into the head of oncology position with this deal. and so they have to pretend to be in love and engaged around all their colleagues. and around wilson’s family. and somehow even with his snark, wilson’s mother actually kinda likes house and thinks he’s a good match for wilson. and somehow they end up walking down the aisle in a rushed wedding but house can’t go through with it because wilson is the only person who has actually seen and accepted who house is and wilson actually starts to match house’s craziness and suddenly they’re actually a good match and it’s too much and house bolts because it becomes too real and he doesn’t know how to commit. but wilson doesn’t let house get far. he follows house back to his apartment and tells house to get his ass back to that wedding right fucking now because wilson is actually head over heels for house and he knows house feels the same way. they get married that night. house earns his tenure and wilson gets promoted to head of oncology and there’s a silver wedding band on house’s ring finger and wilson is wrapping his tie around house’s neck as he pulls house into a kiss and maybe this was a good idea after all

[babyboywilson]

house picked up the bowling ball, swinging it lazily back and forth without actually letting it go. “you know i’m going to beat you again.”

wilson raised his eyebrows. “why don’t we make things interesting, then?”

“go on,” house probed, placing the bowling ball into the rack.

they’d played four games already. there was a collection of empty beer bottles on the table and a mostly-empty plate of nachos. house had shed his jacket two games ago, and wilson had unbuttoned the top buttons of his shirt during the last game.

at some point, house couldn’t tell when, they’d gone from sitting at opposite ends of the bench seat to slouching against each other.

even now, wilson was staring up at him from the bench seat with a lopsided grin, his eyes darting up and down house’s body in a deliberate move. wilson licked his lips before answering. “loser has to kiss the winner,” he said with a smirk, like it was the best idea he’d ever had.

house- one, okay, maybe three beers too many- thought this was a brilliant idea. he’d win, again, and wilson would be the one kissing him. house liked this plan a lot.

“you’re on,” house grinned, picking up his ball again and moving up towards the lane.

breathing in deep, house brought the ball up to his eyes, squinted his gaze down towards the pins, and released the ball. it rolled down the center of the lane at speed, rolling rolling rolling, and veered off to the side at the last second. one pin fell over.

wilson snorted out a laugh. “starting off strong, house.”

house muttered under his breath, reaching out to pick up his ball again. deep breath. in and out. aim the ball. down the middle.

the ball soared through the air, hit the lane, and rolled towards the edge. the ball struck three pins.

“shit,” house hissed.

when house turned around, he caught the gleeful expression on wilson’s face. “that… was excellent. do it again.”

house sighed and collapsed down on the seat next to wilson. “go fuck yourself.”

wilson’s hand patted at house’s thigh, and house felt a shiver dart down his spine. “don’t need to. not when you’re about to owe me a kiss.”

house watched in pained horror as wilson stepped up, took a deep breath, and sent his bowling ball down the lane.

eight.

“yes!” wilson cheered, clapping his hands together in glee.

house slumped down in the seat. a minute later, he bit back another curse as the bowling ball hit the two remaining pins.

wilson dropped down onto the seat next to house with a wicked grin. “spare! beat that!”

determined, house snagged his bowling ball and took his turn.

five.

god fucking dammit.

wilson laughed hysterically.

every turn, the gap between their scores widened.

the harder house tried to hit the pins, the worse his scores got.

the better wilson played, the more he flirted with house.

by the time their last turn came around, house knew he was done for. he was down by almost 30 points. he’d need at least two strikes to catch up.

watching the ball roll down the lane was almost agonizing, and when only six pins fell down, house accepted his fate. he’d lost, and now he’d be the one kissing wilson.

wilson crowed it victory, knowing he’d won the game by default. dancing his way up towards house, wilson grinned as he beckoned at house with his hands. “you lost. pay up.”

“yeah, yeah, shut up,” house mumbled, snagging wilson’s shirt collar and drawing him in for a chaste kiss. he pulled back a second later, rubbing the back of his hand across his mouth in order to prevent himself from doing something stupid like holding wilson close and kissing him like he really wanted to. but house knew that wasn’t what wilson wanted. this was just a game to wilson; a bet that wilson was using to embarrass house.

but wilson shook his head, surprisingly stepping closer into house’s space. “oh no, that didn’t count.”

“yes it did. you won. i kissed you. a deals a deal.”

“that wasn’t a kiss,” wilson said. and then wilson’s hand was on house’s waist, and house felt that shiver dart down his spine again. “kiss me like you mean it.”

house was too drunk for this. too drunk to keep those hidden feelings buried.

this time, house drew wilson in slowly. when their lips met, wilson sighed into the kiss. house felt his knees go weak, and he gripped hold of wilson’s shirt tighter.

wilson leaned in closer, their mouths slotting together as wilson’s tongue grazed over house’s lower lip. house let out a stuttering gasp, and wilson took the opportunity to slide his tongue into house’s mouth.

it didn’t matter anymore that house was supposed to be the one kissing wilson. all that mattered was wilson was there, overwhelming all of house’s senses; kissing house just as enthusiastically as house was kissing him.

when they broke apart, both breathing in sharp lungfuls of air, wilson had a dopey grin on his face. house rolled his eyes, and wilson huffed out a laugh; stealing another kiss.

it didn’t really matter that he’d lost the game. house had won in the end, anyway.

[babyboywilson]

house reached over the cafeteria table, stealing a fry from wilson’s plate. he used the fry to gesture at wilson accusingly. “i know it was you.”

wilson tilted his head, fluttering his eyes in a faux-innocent expression. “me? why would i want you to take this case?”

with a huff, house deliberately leaned over the table and into wilson’s space as he dipped the fry into the pot of ketchup that was on the table right next to wilson’s elbow. “because you’re trying to distract me.”

raising an eyebrow, wilson used his elbow to nudge the ketchup pot further away from house and closer to himself. “distract you from what?”

“i know what the date is. it’s been a month, and we will be celebrating.”

wilson dropped his head in a dramatic sigh. “we do not need to celebrate one month.” flickering his gaze up, wilson caught the fleeting look that darted across house’s face. “oh,” he murmured softly, finally catching on. “you actually wanted to celebrate.”

slumping back in his seat, house rolled his eyes and bit into the fry. “no, i don’t. i just thought it would shut you up.” the words fell flat between them, and they both knew wilson had already read in between the lines and deduced house’s true meaning.

slowly, wilson leaned over the table, catching house’s hand and plucking the half-eaten fry from his fingers. house didn’t protest; just watched as wilson dropped the fry back into the basket and gently guided house’s hand up to his mouth. softly, wilson brushed his lips across the back of house’s knuckles. “i want nothing more than to celebrate with you tonight.”

a rare smiled tugged at the corner of house’s lips, and wilson returned the smile.

before house could reply, their moment of peace was shattered as an awkward cough sounded behind house. “the patient… there’s an… i didn’t see anything i swear,” chase stuttered out.

house rolled his eyes, pulling his hand away from wilson’s grip. “i told you, wilson, i don’t need my boo-boo’s kissed to make them better.”

wilson’s eyes crinkled in mirth as he collapsed back against the booth seat with a put-upon-sigh. “maybe if you stopped hurting yourself in ridiculous ways, then i wouldn’t have to treat you like a fragile child.”

house flipped wilson off, stole a handful of fries, and stood up. “this is not over. i will get you back tonight.”

a smug grin tugged at wilson’s lips. “i’m counting on it.”

house grabbed his cane and marched away.

chase darted his gaze between wilson and house numerous times, blinking his eyes in confusion before stumbling and jogging after house.

an hour later, chase emphatically tried to tell foreman and taub that house and wilson were together.

“i’m telling you. wilson kissed house’s knuckles. and the look in house’s eyes… there’s something going on between them,” chase said.

taub laughed. foreman rolled his eyes.

“you need to get your eyes checked,” taub said, before pushing the results from the latest bloodwork tests over towards chase.

from outside the office windows, house smirked to himself as he walked towards wilson’s office.

[babyboywilson]

wilson was splayed across house’s couch, a glass of whiskey sloshing in his hands. house was pacing across his living, his own mostly empty glass of whiskey balanced between his fingers as he gestured towards his bookshelf. “-plenty of perfect examples,” house was saying.

dropping his head back against the armrest, wilson huffed out a derisive snort. “i doubt you’ve even read a single one of those books, let alone could quote poetry off the top of your head,” wilson said, lazily gesturing with his whiskey glass at house.

house’s face twisted into a dramatic pout. “it’s like you don’t have any faith in me at all.”

“i don’t,” wilson said, attempting to level house a look of nonchalance but failing due to the alcohol in his system.

with a smug little grin, house moved across the room and propped himself on the arm of the couch that wilson was sitting on. dramatically clearing his throat, house flashed wilson a little wink. then, he closed his eyes and began to speak.

“o captain! my captain! our fearful trip is done; the ship has weather'd every rack, the prize we sought is won; the port is near, the bells I hear, the people all exulting, while follow eyes the steady keel, the vessel grim and daring:

“but o heart! heart! heart! o the bleeding drops of red, where on the deck my captain lies, fallen cold and dead.

“o captain! my captain! rise up and hear the bells; rise up—for you the flag is flung—for you the bugle trills; for you bouquets and ribbon'd wreaths—for you the shores a-crowding; for you they call, the swaying mass, their eager faces turning;

“o captain! dear father! this arm beneath your head; it is some dream that on the deck, you've fallen cold and dead.

“my captain does not answer, his lips are pale and still; my father does not feel my arm, he has no pulse nor will; the ship is anchor'd safe and sound, its voyage closed and done; from fearful trip, the victor ship, comes in with object won;

“exult, o shores, and ring, o bells! but I, with mournful tread, walk the deck my captain lies, fallen cold and dead.”

as the final words of the poem fell from house’s lips, he finally opened his eyes to see wilson staring at him with stars in his eyes.

“wow,” wilson uttered, letting out a little laugh of surprise as he stared at house like he’d hung the moon.

house shrugged one-shouldered as he put his glass down onto the table. “told you i’m more cultured than you are.”

the look of awe slipped from wilson’s face as he pointed at house in challenge. “i know poetry, too, you know.”

house huffed out a laugh, sliding down onto the couch next to wilson. “no you don’t.”

raising an eyebrow, wilson turned his body until he was half slouched against the armrest and half leaning against house, placing his empty glass next to house’s on the table.

“the healer with his magic powers. i could rub his gentle brow for hours. his manly chest, his stubbled jaw,” wilson started to recite.

house kicked at wilson’s thigh with his foot. “shut the hell up.”

“everything about him leaves me raw with joy. oh, house, your very name, will never leave this man the same,” wilson continued, leaning in until his breath was ghosting against house’s cheek; whispering the final line of the poem against house’s stubble.

“dick. of course that’s the only poem you have memorized.”

wilson’s nose rubbed against the underside of house’s jaw. “you love it, don’t deny it.”

house shook his head. “i hate you,” he grumbled, even as he slipped his arm around wilson’s lower back and tugged wilson closer so wilson could trace open-mouthed kisses down house’s neck.

“should’ve known,” wilson said, pressing lips to skin. “you’d be,” wilson said after another kiss, “as good with poetry as you are with music.” another kiss to the skin above the collar of house’s t-shirt.

“music is just poetry with a melody,” house said, sucking in a breath as wilson’s lips grazed against his collarbone.

wilson moved up, kissing the corner of house’s lip before hovering just out of reach. “prove it,” he whispered.

“fuckin’ tease,” house muttered.

wilson laughed softly, shifting to ghost a feather-light kiss to house’s lips before he settled against house’s side with his legs draped over house’s lap.

drawing in a deep breath, house closed his eyes and let his alcohol-infused brain find a jazz song he knew by heart.

softly, house began to sing, “someday he'll come along. the man I love. and he'll be big and strong. the man I love. and when he comes my way, i'll do my best to make him stay.

“he'll look at me and smile. i'll understand. then in a little while, he'll take my hand. and though it seems absurd, I know we both won't say a word.

“maybe I shall meet him sunday. maybe monday, maybe not. still i'm sure to meet him one day. maybe tuesday will be my good news day.

“he'll build a little home that's meant for two, from which I'll never roam. who would, would you? and so all else above, i'm dreaming of the man I love.”

the final words hung in the air, and house turned his head to glance at wilson.

wilson didn’t utter a word; he just leaned in and drew house into a long, lingering kiss that left them both breathless.

[babyboywilson]

placing a wire cage on wilson’s desk, house tapped against wilson’s desk with his cane. “need you to do surgery on this patient.”

wilson barely looked up from his paperwork. “i don’t do surgery on rodents.”

“fibroadenoma. need an oncologist to remove the mass,” house said.

that got wilson to glance up. “you could easily surgically remove that yourself. you don’t need my help,” wilson replied as he squinted at the rat in the cage. “wait a minute, is that your rat?”

house rolled his eyes. “the fact you couldn’t say for certainty if that’s someone else’s rat or steve mcqueen, and you live with him, says a lot.”

throwing his hands up into the air, wilson sighed. “a rat is a rat. they all look the same.”

house faux-gasped. “where did you get your degree from? i’m personally revoking your license and sending you back to vet school.”

“who’s rat is it?”

house smirked lazily. “let’s say the owners name is egg.”

“you’re the worst. it is your rat, isn’t it?”

“steve is our rat.”

wilson dropped his head down against the table. “what did you do to give “our” rat a fibroadenoma?”

tsking, house dropped down onto the couch that was tucked into the corner of wilson’s office. “nothing you can prove. do the surgery on your lunch break.”

the sigh that came out of wilson’s mouth was long suffering. house knew that meant wilson was agreeing to whatever hair-brained scheme house had come up with. “if he continues to gnaw loudly on wooden blocks during the night and keeps waking me up, i’m slipping him too much propofol during the procedure.”

house snagged his cane and got up from the couch. “no you won’t. you secretly love him.” house left the room and wilson watched him go.

reaching into the cage, wilson snagged steve mcqueen and placed him on the desk so he could wander across the surface. “knew it was you all along, steve. already put a surgical plan together for you when i saw the mass last week,” wilson said. he stroked a finger over steve’s head and settled back into his seat to finish up his paperwork so he’d have the time to do surgery during lunch.

[babyboywilson]

house marches into wilson’s office one day, slaps some money on his desk, and says casually, “$20 says I can kiss you and make you fall in love with me.” wilson looks up from his paperwork and raises his eyebrows, trying to analyze house’s motive for the bet. “and who set you up to this?” wilson asks before going back to his work; deeming it was better to ignore house’s little game for now. house scowls. he doesn’t like when wilson ignores him. time to up the ante. “you did.” and that gets wilson looking up again with a flicker of interest hidden behind an air of nonchalance. but house can read wilson better than that, and he can tell he’s caught wilson’s attention. wilson’s gaze darts over house’s face for a few seconds before his expression morphs into a half-smirk. he snags his wallet and pulls out $20 of his own. “extra $20 says you’re the one falling in love with me after i kiss you.” house grins at the bet being doubled before he moves around the desk. wilson stands up from his chair and they lean in at the same time. the kiss starts out biting; teeth clacking as they both fight for dominance. and then wilson is sliding his tongue over house’s lower lip and into his mouth, and house gives up the fight as his breath catches in his chest and stutters out in a groan into wilson’s mouth. the kiss morphs into something desperate as they both give and take, years of pent up yearning finally catching up to them and being transferred between their mouths. and then it changes again as wilson softens the touches and each kiss lingers slow and tender, leaving house feeling light headed and weak in the knees.

turns out they both lose the bet.

and cuddy wins, because she was the only one who knew with absolute certainty that the two idiots had been in love with each other and pining (moping actually, in her office to be precise) for years.

[babyboywilson]

it had been a normal day. well. normal by their standards. house had stolen wilson’s food at lunch, then sent three bags of feathers to wilson’s office and turned the fan on so the room was absolutely covered in feathers when wilson opened the office door.

and now they were eating pizza in house’s apartment watching a monster truck rally.

a normal day.

house’s favorite truck was moving around the arena, crushing cars in its path. the older man looked completely absorbed in the monster truck on the screen. and then- out of nowhere…

“i’m pansexual,” house said.

the words landed in the air like bombs.

house’s eyes never left the tv screen.

wilson blinked once, twice, then whipped around to face house. “i’m sorry… what?”

house shrugged one shoulder. “you heard me.”

wilson’s mouth dropped open as he flickered his gaze from house to the tv screen and back again, as if something within the monster rally itself would explain where the hell this topic of conversation was coming from.

and then wilson was up on his feet, moving a few steps away from the couch before turning to stare at house again.

“no, that’s not… you can’t be,” wilson muttered.

that finally got house to shift his attention away from the tv. “i am.”

“you like… that means you like- men?” wilson started to pace around the room.

house rolled his eyes. “i like anyone who walks and has a nice ass. why is that news to you?”

wilson whipped around, gesturing wildly at house. “this whole time. i’ve been trying to- and you just… and now you just say shit like that and expect me to just…”

wilson started to pace again, his cheeks flushing pink.

letting out a sigh and rolling his eyes again, house stood up from the couch and wedged himself into wilson’s path.

wilson glared, opening his mouth to say something, but house was quicker. he grabbed wilson by the collar of his shirt, yanked wilson closer, and crashed their mouths together.

a muffled sound of shock tumbled from wilson’s lips and was pressed into house’s mouth. this could not be happening, right? house was kissing him as if it were the most obvious thing in the world. wilson’s eyes fluttered shut, and just as wilson shifted to kiss house back, house broke the kiss.

“what was…” wilson started to say.

house glared, cutting off wilson’s question. “you’re clueless.”

wilson spluttered. “i am? i am?? you can’t be serious? i’m not the clueless one here.”

house half shoved wilson, then yanked him back by the shirt. “i just told you i’m into you.”

wilson’s hand gripped house’s tshirt, forming a fist against house’s chest. “you just said you’re pansexual.”

“that was me saying i want you to shove your tongue down my throat.”

wilson threw his other hand up in agitation, almost smacking house in the face. “how was i supposed to know that? how would anyone know that was what that meant?”

dropping his head back, house scoffed. “if you could keep up-”

this time it was wilson cutting house off. “you know what? just shut up.” lurching forward, wilson dragged house into another kiss.

wilson could actually feel house’s smirk against his lips, but he didn’t care. house’s hand was climbing up the back of wilson’s shirt, and wilson was panting against house’s mouth.

it didn’t matter who was the one who figured out the other’s feelings first, because house was annoyingly good at kissing and wilson was enjoying this far too much to want it to end just so he could continue arguing his point. at least, not for now. he’d get his revenge on house later. but for now, house’s tongue was in wilson’s mouth, and wilson had temporarily lost his train of thought.

[babyboywilson]

house md is essentially: house suggests something absolutely insane as a diagnosis or treatment, all the underlings thinks it won’t work but do what house says anyway because no one can really argue with house’s logic except cuddy but house does what he wants anyway, wilson is in the background looking all smitten at house, house sees the fond looks that wilson is giving him and decides to pull pranks on wilson, wilson is more cunning and pranks house back and somehow that’s a love language that equates to them banging and exchanging a marriage proposal all at once, house sudden gets an ah-ha moment while he’s eye-fucking wilson and he saves the day with a diagnosis of infective wind exposure, everyone has some poignant moment at the end of the episode, and house goes home with wilson

[babyboywilson]

house accepting wilson dating amber and saying “i’ve decided you could do worse than a female proxy for me.” what if… what if house spent all night thinking about it. sitting up against his headboard of his bed and pulling at his hair as he takes vicodin to try and ease the physical pain manifesting in his chest; trying not to break apart into pieces as he realizes how agonizing this is. that wilson is finally ready to date someone like him… but he found a ‘house replacement’ instead of dating the real thing. that wilson would never date him because wilson only dates women. and that hurts more than anything in the world. because they could have this. wilson wants house’s personality and snark and wit. he likes it. he’s attracted to it. but he just doesn’t want house himself. he wants all of house’s attributes… but in a woman and not in him. and that’s the hardest part to reconcile with. house will never be enough for wilson. no matter how much he yearns and aches for wilson. no matter how much sexual attraction and tension lingers between them. even though wilson wants house too, he would rather date the female version of house. amber is better for wilson than he is, and house now knows it. house has to let wilson go… has to let him be happy. even if it tears house’s heart apart every minute every day for the rest of his life

[babyboywilson]

If youre still doing hilson requests...

Can you do one about them examining Castiel (spn) and have it be a funny mix between the two?

Idea that i have is house just assuming dean/cas are together and dean assuming house/wilson are together and it just becomes the spiderman meme akskaksjjk

the file on house’s desk detailed a man who was near death - ribs shattered, punctured lung, lacerated spleen, bloodwork that indicated DIC. but that wasn’t why the file was on house’s desk. the case was shunted to house because, after performing CTs, MRIs, and x-rays, there was no abnormalities seen. the man had been wheeled into surgery, and when chase had excised into the abdomen, the spleen was perfectly intact. the thorax showed no sign of a punctured lung, and the ribs were completely normal with no signs of any breakages.

“i’m telling you, this man came into the ER a few hours ago and he was minutes from death. and now… he’s completely healed. its as if nothing happened in the first place,” cameron said. “people barely heal from all those injuries to begin with, let alone being perfectly healed in 3 hours.”

house dropped his cane down onto the floor and marched out of his office. “only reason i’m going to the ICU right now is to prove you wrong,” house said. “clearly your skills have slipped since you left the team.”

cameron rolled her eyes. “my medical skills are perfectly fine. i’m telling you, this was some kind of miracle from God.”

“no such thing,” house grumbled.

pushing into the ICU, house glanced at the apparent patient cameron and chase had been working on. the man seemed perfectly normal, standing and tugging on a long brown trenchcoat. another man was perched on the end of the bed, quickly handing some silver object to the man in the trenchcoat. the man in the trenchcoat brushed his fingers against the other man’s and he offered him the softest look as he uttered his thanks.

veering off to the side, house spied wilson sitting at the nurses station. moving to perch himself on the edge of the desk where wilson was hunched over, house bumped wilson’s shoulder with his leg. “get a load of the guy in bay 5. apparently he came in a few hours ago looking like he’d fucked a meat grinder, and now he’s up and walking like he’s danced through a healing portal.”

wilson glanced up, leaning his forearm against house’s left thigh as he twisted around house’s body to glance at the man in bay 5. “who knows, maybe he’s blessed with magic healing from a deity?”

“asshole,” house muttered, shoving wilson’s arm off his leg and grinning when wilson half fell out of his chair from the unexpected movement.

without another word, house bent down, snagged wilson’s sandwich and took a bite. “be back once i’ve interrogated handsome man and his leather-jacket boyfriend.”

“don’t talk with your mouth full,” wilson grumbled, snatching the sandwich back from house and taking a bite just to prove a point.

“yeah yeah,” house muttered, snagging his cane and thumping over to the men in bay 5.

“let’s get out of here before anyone notices-” the leather jacket wearing man started to say.

house thumped his cane down in front of the trenchcoat man. “too late for that.”

leather jacket man pushed himself off the bed and smoothly stepped in front of trenchcoat man. “you’ve got the wrong guy. cas just had a mild concussion. he’s fine.”

house dragged his eyes up and down leather jacket man’s body. “not from what the file says. your boyfriend should be dead. and yet, handsome over there is walking out of here as if nothing ever happened.”

“nothing happened,” the trenchcoat man - cas - said.

the other man cleared his throat, dropping his eyes to the floor as he muttered, “he’s not my boyfriend.” house watched, analyzing, as the other man half leaned back into cas’ space and his hand settled onto cas’ lower back. “we’ll be leaving now.”

house took a half-step back, pretending to let them pass, but at the last second he flicked his cane out in an attempt to trip cas. the man moved quickly, almost in the blink of an eye, shifting out of the way of the cane as his hand reached out to wrap around the other man’s bicep to steady him from the rapid movement.

house raised his eyebrows. “doesn’t seem like you have a concussion at all, do you, handsome?”

“back off,” the other man snarled.

“dean,” cas said, squeezing dean’s arm once. cas and dean’s eyes locked and they clearly had some silent conversation before dean stepped back in silent submission.

house smirked. “not your boyfriend, hm?”

dean glared and his gaze darted across the room, lighting up when he saw the man at the nurse’s station watching them closely. “I don’t think your boyfriend appreciates you hitting on cas.”

“i don’t have a boyfriend,” house snapped.

“oh really?” dean asked, stepping closer into house’s space and nodding his head towards wilson. “looked like you were sitting in that man’s lap. seemed pretty cozy to me, sharing food and touching.”

house glanced over at wilson and snorted out a laugh. “wilson isn’t my boyfriend. he’s my best friend. i just happen to steal his food just because i can.”

dean let out a derisive laugh. “looked like he couldn’t keep his hands off of you. seemed pretty boyfriend-y to me.”

“you can’t keep your hands off handsome man,” house pointed out.

“cas is my best friend.”

house glared at dean. dean glared at house. a recognition passed between them, a hint of panic. they both tore their eyes away from each other.

“c’mon cas, let’s go,” dean said, snagging cas’ wrist and pulling him towards the door. house let them go.

“what was that about?” house could hear cas asking as they left the ER, but he couldn’t catch the rest of the conversation.

moving back to the nurse’s station, house leaned against the desk by wilson; his eyes still on the place where dean and cas were.

“you just let them go? what happened?” wilson asked.

house didn’t reply, his gaze on the two men as they climbed into an impala. house caught the way dean watched cas get in first, something tender in the way his shoulders tensed and then relaxed as he watched cas settle into the car before dean climbed in himself. a moment later, they were gone.

waving a hand in front of house’s face, wilson called out, “earth to house. what’s going on?”

clearing his throat, house shook his head. “nothing. must’ve been a patient mix-up.”

wilson followed where house was gazing, but there was nothing outside the doors of the ER. shaking his head, wilson patted house’s knee and held out his sandwich for house again in a silent offer to share his food.

house took the sandwich without a word, suppressing a shudder as his fingers brushed against wilson’s as he took the sandwich.

[babyboywilson]

i'm still watching the show but uhh can i request hilson? my favorite trope is fake/pretend relationship so... maybe something short where they kiss just to piss someone off and they end up in a full blown make out session? or literally anything else as long as you have fun writing!!! ily!!

“that would mean someone would actually want to date you with your caustic personality,” chase pointed at house with a pen in his hand.

the team had been debating the dating history of a patient, and somehow the conversation had devolved into house’s dating present.

house kicked his feet up onto the table and motioned lazily in the general direction of wilson’s office. “i’m already in a relationship.”

foreman rolled his eyes. “whatever twisted friendship you have with wilson doesn’t count.”

house scoffed. “we’ve been together for years.”

“as friends, sure. we’re talking about dating. and no one would want to date you. especially wilson. he knows you too well to date you,” chase continued.

cameron finally looked up from the files she’d been skimming through. “wilson wouldn’t even kiss you, let alone date you.”

house glared at the team, squinting his eyes as if they were a puzzle he was trying to solve. then, without a word, he stood up and marched out of the office. the team scrambled to follow as house moved with purpose directly into wilson’s office.

wilson’s eyebrows shot up in surprise as the door banged open and he caught sight of the look of determination on house’s face. house motioned with the crock of his index finger for wilson to come closer, and wilson got up without hesitation.

using the handle of his cane, house snagged wilson’s hip and yanked him closer. the look in house’s eyes screamed a challenge, and, glancing behind house, wilson caught a glimpse of the rest of the team standing in the doorway to his office.

oh, here they go again. wilson had no idea what was about to happen, but if he knew house the way he did, he knew there would be no backing down until house had won whatever little game he was playing.

when house leaned in and crushed his lips against wilson’s, wilson clenched his fists and then released them a moment later.

house smirked against wilson’s lips as he felt wilson’s hands settle on his waist as he relaxed into the kiss. it was way too easy to slide his tongue into wilson’s mouth. it was even easier to draw out little breathy gasps from wilson’s lips as house explored wilson’s mouth.

maybe they’d done this before and house couldn’t remember. or maybe wilson just trusted him that much and he was smart enough to put two and two together for whatever game house was playing with his team and was kissing house as if he’d done it a million times before.

either way, kissing wilson was too easy. and a little bit… addicting.

house moved back a step, breaking the kiss before he got hooked. but wilson followed; chasing house’s lips as if he simply couldn’t resist. and damn, it was even easier to fall back into the kiss now that the weakness had been discovered.

this time wilson led the kiss, gliding his tongue slowly and teasingly over house’s lower lip before dipping into house’s mouth just enough to brush against house’s tongue. house shuddered and let out a groan. wilson chuckled against house’s mouth but didn’t break the kiss.

in the back of house’s mind, he dully realized it had gone beyond a kiss and had turned into full on making out. but he didn’t care. not when wilson’s hands had moved to either side of his jaw and he was kissing house passionately with a hint of desperation that was almost dizzying.

the need to breathe was burning up house’s lungs, but god he didn’t want this to end. just a few more seconds. just a little longer to taste the hint of coffee in wilson’s mouth from his morning cup of coffee. just another moment to memorize wilson’s mouth.

when he broke the kiss, gasping for air and holding onto wilson’s chest to keep himself stable, it felt like the room was spinning. he glanced over to the doorway to gloat about their very ‘real’ relationship, but the underlings had already disappeared.

“looks like you made your point, whatever that was,” wilson panted out.

house couldn’t even remember what the point was anymore now that he was staring at wilson’s mouth as need burned down his throat. “shut up,” house muttered, unable to resist the magnetic force anymore as he closed the distance and attached his lips to wilson’s again.

now it was wilson grinning into the kiss, but house didn’t care. as long as wilson continued to kiss him with that same toe-curling intensity as the first kiss they’d just shared.

[babyboywilson]

house wasn’t one to initiate kisses. he was fine with wilson pressing a brief kiss against his lips when wilson left early for work and house was still half asleep in bed. or the messy press of mouths in breathless kisses as wilson pressed into him and house grasped at wilson’s shoulders as heat and sweat built up between them. but whenever wilson went to drop a kiss on house’s cheek after lunch in the hospital cafeteria, house would get up quickly and avoid the touch. or when wilson came home from work late and house was making them dinner in the kitchen, when wilson leaned in to kiss him, house dodged and patted wilson on the shoulder instead. house caught the pained look that flashed across wilson’s face momentarily before wilson shook his head and muttered he was going to take a shower before dinner. he knew wilson was shrinking away; that he was losing wilson. but there was a tightness in his chest he couldn’t shake. a voice in his head telling him it was wrong to kiss wilson, that wilson wasn’t a woman and house shouldn’t want him the way he did even though they’d been screwing for weeks.

it took a couple more weeks before things changed. wilson was quiet; hiding in his office a lot during work days and coming back to the apartment late at night, sticking to his side of the couch when they watched tv at night with dinner on their laps. house didn’t like it. the distance felt like a chasm. was it really worth losing wilson because house couldn’t fight the internalized homophobia in his head?

“need a consult,” house said a few days later, pushing into wilson’s office and dropping a file onto wilson’s desk. wilson glanced briefly at the file and darted his eyes up towards house’s face without making eye contact. “no you don’t. a first year med student could tell you that was lung cancer,” wilson pointed out. house half-grinned, and then moved around to the other side of wilson’s desk. “just checking your oncologist skills are still working,” house said, and then, softer and more honest, he said, “thanks.” that got wilson’s attention. wilson looked up in surprise, and house swooped down, pressing his lips against wilson’s in a chaste kiss. wilson let out a stuttered gasp, returning the kiss for a moment before house pulled away. “lunch in an hour?” house asked, still breathing wilson’s air. wilson smiled, soft and happy. “good, i’m starving,” wilson replied. house stepped back, picking up the file and waving it at wilson. “you’re paying,” house said with a smirk as he moved towards the door. huffing out a laugh, wilson leaned back in his chair. “i expected nothing less.”

it wasn’t much, but it was a start, and house was ready.