Chapter Text
About an hour after he’d arrived at his office, Wilson started to feel a slight tingling in the back of his neck, and it instantly stressed him out.
He decided he needed to figure out what or who was causing that, so he went into the hallway, where he almost immediately spotted his suspect—some strange guy seemingly headed to the diagnostic room.
Shit.
He needed to get there first.
The guy wasn’t all that close, so he super casually bolted into the room before he could.
House gave him a confused look as he closed the door behind himself, his team all looking at him strangely as well.
“..Wilson?”
Wilson was about to warn him, but the guy he’d seen before opened the door, practically into him, before he got the chance.
The guy frowned at him before turning to face House.
“Which one of you is House?”
His neck practically hurt after that.
Something bad was going to happen.
House turned around to look at the guy, “Skinny brunette.”
The guy furrowed his eyebrows, “no that’s Dr Cameron.”
“I’m skinny.” House frowned, “How do you know her name?”
“I was a patient of yours.”
Fuck.
“Oh, well if you wanna leave the chocolates-“
House’s sentence was interrupted by Wilson tackling the guy, just as he had attempted to reach for a gun he’d somehow gotten into the hospital.
His ears became practically useless in that moment, with any energy that could’ve gone to processing the exclamations surrounding him being put into getting the gun from that guy instead.
It only took a few headbutts to the face for the guy to let go of the gun, allowing Wilson to throw it over to House, who caught it in his hands. It didn’t take long for security to come and take the guy either, which was also great.
Wilson sighed, standing up and wincing at the pain in his head.
House slowly walked up to him, eyes full of confusion and curiosity.
“..How did you know he was going to do that?”
Wilson froze.
Ah shit.
“..I uh.. saw him in the hallway and he looked suspicious,” he managed, shrugging awkwardly.
House raised an eyebrow.
“Plus, I saw him start to reach for it.”
House was quiet still, until all of a sudden, he threw a ball at Wilson’s face.
Obviously, courtesy of the neck tingling, he caught it.
“Woah,” House remarked, “how come I haven’t noticed that before?”
Wilson felt nervous, “noticed.. what?”
“Your reflexes are really fast.”
Wilson nodded.
“Yeah they’ve been that way since I was little,” he lied, hoping that it was convincing enough.
“Huh,” House thought out loud, grabbing the ball back from his hands, “cool.”
Thankfully that was that with that conversation, allowing Wilson to (after reminding House to be careful around weird strangers) go back to his office, his neck now free of that uncomfortable tingling.
He plopped back down on his desk chair, letting out a sigh.
Well that was close.
-
“So.. is this my compensation for almost getting shot?” House asked as he and Wilson sat down at one of the tables in some random diner near their apartment.
It was a nice Italian place with plants and string lights lining the walls and candles placed on each table, and while it was somewhat formal, it wasn’t too formal, which House certainly appreciated.
Wilson had entered House’s office when they were both nearly down working and suggested they go to dinner somewhere, to which House had jokingly (definitely jokingly) replied “Are you asking me out, Wilson?”
He had rolled his eyes in response, but House ended up saying yes and the two got on House’s motorcycle once again (yippee!) and drove to the restaurant.
Wilson was beginning to develop an appreciation for House’s motorcycle.
Although he supposed that was more so an appreciation for House’s waist, but same difference.
Wilson shrugged.
“Pretty much.”
House paused for a moment, clearly thinking.
“..So you’re paying?”
Wilson sighed.
“Yes, I’m paying.”
House grinned at that, looking down at the menu in front of him. Wilson did the same with his, reading through it and trying to decide on what was best to order.
“Thanks, by the way,” House said suddenly, not looking up.
Wilson noticed one of those increasingly less rare soft smiles on House’s face, the kind that he adored so much, and it made his heart warm.
He simply nodded in response, “Just wanted to make sure you were okay..”
The ‘I care about you’ at the end of the sentence wasn’t said aloud, but it was heavily implied in the silence.
House’s eyes met his again, and they were so filled with gratitude and warmth that Wilson found himself struggling to breathe.
Wow.
Wilson looked down at his menu quickly, attempting to tear his gaze away from House for even a minute.
“Mozzarella sticks for appetizers, right?”
House nodded, “Hell yeah.”
Wilson laughed, and as he did so the waiter appeared, ready to take said order of mozzarella sticks.
The service had been relatively fast, which the two much appreciated (especially House as he began instantly scarfing down all but one of the mozzarella sticks).
“Wow, you left me one,” Wilson deadpanned, “I’m surprised.”
“I was feeling generous,” House grinned smugly, “you did save my ass today, so it’s only fair.”
Wilson scoffed, but his lips curled into a smile that would’ve been nearly impossible to miss.
“Next time I save your life,” Wilson started, grabbing the remaining mozzarella stick, “you leave me two, deal?”
“Next time?”
“I imagine there isn’t exactly a shortage of ex-patients willing to cause you harm.”
House laughed, his nose wrinkling in that adorable way it sometimes did when he smiled that hard.
Don’t stare.
It was needless to say that he was, in fact, staring.
Whoops.
Thankfully House hadn’t seemed to notice, but the waiter gave them a suspicious stare as he came back to take their main course orders.
Wilson had ordered the Risotto and it was delicious (according to both himself and House, who had managed to steal a few bites whenever Wilson wasn’t looking). House got the pasta and that was apparently really good as well.
“I need to get almost shot at more often,” House had said after taking the first bite.
Wilson frowned at him, but he failed to stifle the laugh that spilled from his lips.
“You’re an idiot, House.”
-
House and he had decided to relax in a nearby park for a few minutes before heading home, which Wilson had much appreciated
Wilson looked up at the stars, his eyes shining. They were faint due to all the light-pollution in the city, but still undeniably present..
He looked over at House, who was also admiring the sky above. The light from the moon and the blurry stars illuminated his face in a way that highlighted every feature Wilson appreciated about him—the furrow of his brow, the slight bump of his nose, those eyes…
Wow.
“Admiring my dashingly good looks?” House asked teasingly.
Wilson turned bright red.
He was doing that, actually.
“Fuck off,” he replied, but he couldn’t help but smile just a little at that.
House laughed slightly, the cigarette between his lips twitching as he did so.
Wilson wasn’t a huge fan of smoking for obvious reasons, however he imagined attempting to stop House from doing so would require too much effort and would end up being futile anyway.
He already was taking far too many Vicodin per day, and that combined with the fact that he drank alcohol pretty frequently was also incredibly dangerous.
Thus, smoking was probably the least concerning habit House had, so Wilson didn’t bother.
The two sat in a comfortable silence for a while, Wilson’s eyes flicking from the sky to House’s face to the smoke billowing from his lips. It was peaceful in a way that they both desperately needed after that eventful and stressful day.
It took a while before House finally spoke again, putting out his cigarette on the bench.
“Do you think Cuddy will give me a break from office hours after that?”
Wilson laughed, “Why would she do that, exactly?”
“Emotional compensation,” House clarified, “like you buying me dinner.”
Wilson could only scoff in response.
“..So is that a no?”
“I would imagine so, yes.”
“Damn it,” House frowned. “What’s the point of almost getting shot if I can’t use it as an excuse to not have to deal with idiots all day?”
Wilson sighed, shaking his head but grinning slightly.
“Next time could you just let me get shot? Preferably not in any of my vital organs but-“
“No.”
“Damn.”
“Have fun with your clinic hours tomorrow,” Wilson teased, and House groaned.
“I’m going to become religious just so I can pray for your downfall.”
“Yeah, sounds like something you would do.”