Tonight we fly

[dr_gregoryhouse]

Who: House, Wilson (closed)
Where: Another sailing weekend! On Wilson's boat again.
What: It's after Wilson's weekend with his parents, and after House's meeting with Cuddy -- a weekend away.
When: Saturday 29th April - Sunday 30th April, 2006.

Complete

Comments

[dr_j_wilson]

About to reply with a ‘no’, Wilson paused what he was doing and reconsidered. Maybe some alcohol was exactly what he needed, though the thought of getting drunk like he had last time didn’t appeal. Mainly because Wilson hated to think what he might end up saying or doing if he did get drunk. “Yeah…thanks. I’ll get us out into the open water first though,” Wilson said and went back to what he was doing. When they were away from the marina and Wilson had put up the sails, he accepted the beer from House and took a seat on the deck floor. Stretching his legs out, Wilson looked at his bare feet - he’d taken his shoes and socks off as soon as they were on board - and sipped at his beer.

The weather was nice at least. Warmer than the last sailing trip. Wilson turned his attention up to the sky before looking over at House. Part of him wanted to go to House, to hug him, to kiss him, to drag him into the cabin…something. Anything to get rid of this distance between them. A smaller part wanted House to hug him, to kiss him. To…comfort him.

You’re thirty seven, for Christ’s sake, not thirteen. And Wilson knew better than to expect that kind of thing from House.

Sighing, Wilson looked away and then lay down, sitting his beer next to him and just feeling, for a moment, the rocking of the boat under him. Closing his eyes, Wilson tried not to think about anything…tried to forget. “If you had to choose one person to be stranded on an island with, who would it be and why?” Wilson asked, inanely, without opening his eyes. He was fairly sure House would reply with someone like ‘Angelina Jolie’.

[dr_gregoryhouse]

Taking a seat on the bench by where Wilson was lying on the floor, House sipped his beer and then set it down before leaning over to pull his shoes and socks off. He balled the socks into his Nikes, placed them aside and then took his drink back up, looking down at the bottle in his hand.

He raised his brows at Wilson's question; the randomness of it. Inane and pointless though the question was, he appreciated that something was offered as conversation, rather than having to sit in stoic silence. Because he didn't know exactly what Wilson was so subdued about, in terms of what exactly took place the previous weekend, House was hesitant to say anything in case he said the wrong thing. He had a habit of doing that in awkward situations.

"Hmm," he mused, turning the bottle around in his hand to look at the label. He absently swiped his thumb over the writing on the label as he replied, "I could say someone like Angelina Jolie, simply so I'd have something decent to look at besides trees and water."

He sat back and stretched his legs out, crossing his ankles, and his bare foot came to rest against the side of Wilson's stomach. He was aware of it but drew little attention to it. "But, you know, if I was stranded for good, there's a chance I'd get bored. Sure, Angelina's hot, but would she be able to sustain my attention long enough before I got bored? Because what would sustain my attention is a crazy person. Not psychopathic crazy. Just seriously neurotic. I could pick their brain. Like solving a Rubick's cube. Hours of entertainment."

He could've said you, meaning Wilson, but he felt way too uncomfortable saying something like that.

He took another sip of his beer. His turn to ask an inane question, if only to lessen the awkward silence between them. "So, if you were being sent to a desert island and could only take three things with you, what would those three things be and why?"

[dr_j_wilson]

Wilson smiled when House answered just as he predicted, though the smile wasn’t exactly an amused or happy one. When House continued though, the smile faded and Wilson frowned a little, opening his eyes so he could squint over at House. A crazy person? Did House mean him? Wilson screwed up his face for a moment. House thought he was neurotic? Well, if anyone was neurotic, it’d probably be him, Wilson thought. At least House seemed to be saying, in a very round about way, that he’d choose Wilson to be stuck on an island with. Wilson supposed it was a good thing that House considered solving a Rubik’s cube hours of entertainment. Most people got frustrated with those things very quickly.

Rolling his head back, Wilson looked up at the sky again, though not without first glancing down to where House’s foot was pressed against him. At House’s question, Wilson’s immediate thought was a practical one, thinking of things that would enable him to survive on an island. Then, when he decided that would be too boring of an answer, he tried to think of something else.

“A really thick book, since I’d have a lot of time on my hands,” Wilson said. “Maybe Lord of the Rings…or War and Peace.” Wilson glanced at House again, his expression relaxing a little. “A solar powered radio, providing I’d get reception. Have to have some kind of music,” Wilson continued. “Or a guitar or something. If I was ever going to learn to play an instrument, I suppose that’d be as good a time as any.” Wilson cleared his throat and his lips quirked a little, “I’d take you too, but I’m not sure you’d be considered a ‘thing’.” He wasn’t going to explain the ‘why’ for that one, though Wilson had a feeling House would already know why.

Sitting up so he could drink his beer without choking, Wilson shifted so he was resting back against the seat House was on, close enough that his side pressed against House’s leg. He drew his knees up and considered taking off his shirt. It was warm enough, but then he’d have to go and the sunscreen, considering how easily he burnt. “Doesn’t sound all that bad really,” Wilson said quietly after a minute. “Living on an island.” No family to worry about, no reason to worry about what people thought of you.

[dr_gregoryhouse]

House studied the back of Wilson's head. Wilson's last remark, how pensively it was said, made House's stomach knot up slightly: he had an another urge of wanting to just outright ask him what happened last weekend at his parents'. Wilson was so near -- right beside him -- yet felt so far away, and House didn't know how to close the distance. It was such a stark contrast to the last time they'd spent time together, how relaxed they were, how connected they were.

He looked away to stare across the water, watching the way the sun glistened off it, and quietly mulled over Wilson's response to his (inane) question; the response of you, followed by the remark of living on an island not sounding all that bad. If he pieced two and two together, which he was doing, he knew Wilson well enough to know that was Wilson's way of perhaps suggesting he did want to talk about it. The thing was, House didn't know where to take that from there. Perhaps if it was a situation where he wasn't emotionally involved, or involved at all, he could've just outright demanded to know what was going on.

House sighed and sat forward again, propping his elbow on his knee as he turned his attention back to Wilson. He felt stuck for words again; not wanting to say the wrong thing. He thought about placing his hand on Wilson's shoulder to give it a squeeze, but he didn't actually know how much Wilson wanted to talk about it, or if he was preferring to just try and use this weekend to get away rather than mull over his issues. If it was the latter, he wasn't doing a very good job of it, and House wasn't really helping. Not so far, anyway.

House realised he was thinking way too deeply into this. Sometimes he wished he could switch his brain off long enough to just be, rather than get caught up in thoughts. "Yeah," he belatedly replied as he stared down at the bottle in his hand. "No rules, no people to worry about, no idiots to deal with. Sounds good to me."

That was more or less a casual, off-hand venture from House that he wanted Wilson to talk to him, to tell him what was on his mind, if Wilson wanted to. It just went to show, really, how pathetic House was at this kind of thing.

[dr_j_wilson]

“Exactly my thought,” Wilson said. He didn’t quite understand the subtext of what House was saying - didn’t get that House was inviting him to talk - but he knew House was wondering about what had happened. He had to be wondering, Wilson thought, since House hadn’t asked.

If House wasn’t really thinking or concerned about it, he would already have asked. Which was kind of backward, but that was House for you. Wilson also knew he was doing a poor job of behaving normally and House had to have guessed something had happened.

Wilson supposed that if they were ever going to be able to relax on this trip, he would have to tell House what had happened first. Just…get it over with, maybe, and then he could forget about it again. Concentrate on House instead. Taking another long drink of his beer, nearly finishing it off, Wilson closed his eyes.

“I wasn’t going to tell them,” he eventually said. “I’d decided it was too soon, convinced myself that I had plenty of time…why hurry?” Wilson’s expression tightened for a moment and he was suddenly glad House couldn’t see his face. It made talking about his easier. “But then…then they brought up Julie and started in on me about the divorce.”

<>

“I just don’t understand, Jamie,” Jude Wilson said after sipping at her wine, using the pet name that Wilson had despised since he was twelve. “Three divorces now…and Julie is such a nice girl. She obviously loved you.”

“Love doesn’t solve everything,” Wilson replied, stabbing his lettuce a little harder than was necessary. The last thing he wanted to talk about was Julie and their divorce. “And Julie is not a girl, mom, she’s a grown woman.”

“You’re right, love doesn’t make a marriage,” Jude replied, no doubt not even hearing Wilson’s last comment, “not without commitment and communication.”

Wilson glanced across at his father, Alan, who was conspicuously silent. “Look, marrying Julie was a mistake. There’s nothing more I can say about it. There’s certainly nothing I can do to fix it.”

“I’m just worried about you,” Jude said. “We just want you to be happy.”

Yeah, Wilson thought, you say that now. He sighed though, thinking his mother probably was telling the truth. At least she believed she was anyway. “I know, mom. Don’t you think I want to be happy?”

“I don’t honestly know,” Jude replied. “You seem to end up in very unhappy situations all the time.”

[dr_gregoryhouse]

House was studying the beer in his hand very intently the whole time Wilson talked. He partly didn't expect Wilson to say anything, because Wilson avoided things he didn't particularly want to talk about just as much as House did. And when silence fell again, House didn't know what to do or say.

He stalled for time by sitting up a little straighter and lifting the beer to his mouth for a lengthy drink. It was one of those moments he wished he had a never-ending bottle of beer so he had an excuse not to respond, because he simply didn't know how. It wasn't just that Wilson was acting in a way that House felt unsettled with, it was also the fact that Wilson talking about this was making House think about his own parents, about telling them. He had to mentally shake himself to push aside those thoughts, because this wasn't about him -- this was about Wilson.

Setting the beer down beside him on the bench, House sat forward again with both elbows propped on both knees, and finally glanced at Wilson, at the profile of his face. What was best? -- Prompt Wilson to keep talking? Stay silent and wait for Wilson to continue? Make a remark? Touch him? Maybe rub his shoulder?

"Parents are..." House found himself starting, turning his eyes down to his hands. He watched his fingers lace together, fidgeting them together. "Parents are good like that," he continued, wryly. "Honing in on stuff you don't want to talk about. Like missiles."

He licked his lips and swallowed, before pressing his lips into a thin line. Casting another tentative glance at Wilson, House then reluctantly prompted, "So... what... What happened?"

[dr_j_wilson]

Wilson sipped absently at his beer, turning his face away from House now that House had sat forward. He still didn’t want House to see his face. “My mom…said she was worried about me being unhappy. I just suddenly wanted her to know that I am…well, happier. That I wasn’t going to keep getting into pointless marriages.”

Raising his free hand, Wilson brushed it agitatedly through his hair. “I guess I had this stupid idea that telling them might actually make them happier. To know that I had come to this…acceptance of myself. Finally. That I was actually taking some responsibility of my personal life for once, rather than just letting it…go where ever.”

<>

Wilson glanced at his father again before reaching for his own glass of wine and taking a generous drink. “Actually, I’ve…I’ve got something to tell you both,” he said, feeling his heart beat suddenly increase and hating it. He was a grown man, Wilson thought, he should be able to do this.

That was the thing though. Most people, obviously people who were a lot braver than him, did this kind of thing when they were young. Came out to their parents, for better or worse. They didn’t shut off half of who they were until they were thirty seven years old. Wilson supposed it was because of that, because he had shut off that part of him - the gay part - that it was still very immature, and confused, and a little lost.

Jude and Alan were both looking at him now, with pensive expressions. Wilson breathed in shakily, “I’m not going to be…dating women anymore.”

“You’ve decided to be celibate?” Jude burst out in obvious confusion, but Wilson thought he saw instant realisation in his father’s eyes.

“No…mom, that’s not what I meant,” Wilson said. Come on, James, be brave for once in your life. “What I mean is…I’m gay.”

<>

Wilson laughed bitterly and shook his head, “Stupid. Definitely stupid. I mean…I should know my own parents, shouldn’t I? I’d thought that they weren’t prejudiced, but apparently that open mindedness is reserved only for people they aren’t related to.”

[dr_gregoryhouse]

House was still staring intently at his fingers, twining and twisting them together. Wilson's last sentence swam around in his mind like an accusation. God, and he had been terrified about telling Cuddy. That made House feel suddenly selfish and childish about the way he'd behaved before Cuddy cornered him. At least she was just their boss, not family members. If she'd not been open-minded for whatever reason, House wouldn't have been able to handle that, but that was on a minor scale compared to what Wilson was talking about. It didn't matter how much people resented their parents, disliked them, anything like that, people still generally wanted approval and support from their parents, regardless.

House swallowed and let out a deep breath before he cast another glance at Wilson. He didn't know what to say to that, at all. He could've come up with some comment about blood relatives and how they're usually the most prejudice, how they always tell their kids they only ever want what makes their kids happy but never follow through when their kids fall short of their expectation. But House knew that wasn't going to solve anything, help anything, or do anything to make Wilson feel better. And he knew that if he told Wilson he wasn't stupid, that was going to fall on deaf ears.

Untangling his fingers from each other, House reached up to his head and scratched it, trying to think in vain for something to say, and when nothing useful came to mind, House hesitantly stretched his hand down to Wilson. He lightly touched his shoulder, giving it a mild rub before he uncertainly slid his hand across to the back of Wilson's neck. He'd seen Wilson rub his neck many times when he was stressed about something, or worried, as though rubbing it was some form of comfort for him.

House kept rubbing his neck for a moment before he slid his hand back to Wilson's shoulder and squeezed it firmly, supportively. He still couldn't think of anything to say, but him touching Wilson the way he was, was more than House would've been able to say, anyway.

[dr_j_wilson]

That he’d stopped speaking didn’t mean Wilson really expected House to say anything. He was just locked in his own head, flashes of his parents faces cruelly reminding him of everything he wasn’t and would never be. As well as everything he was and was still struggling to deal with himself.

Was it stupid to wish he had the type of family he could just…enjoy? That could all get together for Hanukkah and talk and laugh and just…be. Instead he had one brother he hadn’t seen in ten years, another brother he barely saw and now parents who wouldn’t - or couldn’t - accept who he was.

The touch to his shoulder startled Wilson from his depressed musings. As House’s hand moved to his neck, Wilson relaxed a little and leaned into the touch.

<>

There was a long silence after Wilson’s confession. His father was now staring down at his plate and his mother was staring at Wilson as if he’d just slapped her across the face.

“Gay?” Jude finally repeated, as if the word had a horrible taste in her mouth. “But James…you’ve been with women all your life. Just because you’ve had some hard luck doesn’t mean you should…do this.”

“Do what?” Wilson asked. “Be honest? Because that’s what I’m doing. For the first time in my life I’m being honest about who I am.” Wilson set his wine glass down before he accidentally broke it. “I’ve lived my whole life up until now trying to please everyone else and it’s because of that…that it hasn’t even been a real life.”

There was silence again. Eventually, Alan looked up and his eyes flickered from his son to his wife and back again. He then, carefully and slowly, put his cutlery down on his plate, scooted his chair back, and stood up. Without a word or another look at either of them, he left the room. Wilson stared after him, one hand gripping his thigh hard enough to bruise.

Jude muttered something in Yiddish, looking up at the ceiling before shaking her head. “Do you truly think this will make you happy, James? Doing this to your father and I? Choosing a life of sin? This is what you want?”

Wilson’s lips twisted in a parody of a smile, “This is who I am.”

<>

“My father didn’t even say a word,” Wilson said quietly. “I think the silence was worse than what my mother did. She was always good at playing the guilt card.” Raising his beer to his lips, Wilson drank the last of it. He then just sat there for a minute before reaching up with one hand to clasp House’s, where it lay on his shoulder.

“I left then. I just…walked out. I didn’t know what else to do,” Wilson continued and breathed out heavily, gripping House’s hand a little tighter before smiling slightly. “On the drive home, I couldn’t help thinking just how…cliché it all was. The gay Jewish son, the silent father, the self-absorbed mother. You don’t actually expect these kind of things to happen in real life.”

[dr_gregoryhouse]

House, in spite of it all, couldn't help feeling a flare of anger in him at how Wilson's parents reacted. But, truthfully, what did he expect? They were elder Jewish people who had their set views about the world according to their beliefs and according to the stigmas of society. Still, no amount of reasoning made it any less unfair and unpleasant, and it was all House could do to shift his hand within Wilson's to entwine their fingers together, keeping his hand resting on Wilson's shoulder.

"No," he agreed in a subdued voice, finding himself stroking his thumb almost tenderly over Wilson's. The anger churned just beneath the surface, and House forced himself to swallow it back because he knew getting outwardly angry about this wasn't going to solve a thing. He was partly angry because of his own fears that were still gripping him like a vice -- the unknown of being in a gay relationship, the unknown about himself and this side to him, the unknown about it all. Things like what Wilson just told him made the realities of the choice they made seem so incredibly hard, on so many levels.

He heaved a deep sigh and House still didn't know what to say. What was there to say? Nothing, really. Nothing that would make it any better or easier. Somewhere in the tangle of all his thoughts flying through his head, House found himself thinking that he should react in a way that supported Wilson as a partner, not just a friend. The whole concept of Wilson being his partner was indescribably foreign, but a concept he needed to learn to embrace, which was why he made himself act upon that.

He let Wilson's hand go and shifted about on the bench until he was sitting directly behind Wilson, so Wilson was between his knees. He reached both hands down to Wilson's shoulders and grasped them firmly before he started rubbing them, thankful that they were out in still waters with no other boats around.

"I take it they haven't contacted you since," he replied, and he didn't mean to sound as wry as he did. He surprised himself by adding, "You're here with me now. That's all that matters."

No, that wasn't all that mattered, really. But right now, House found himself wanting that to be all that mattered. Just him and Wilson, together alone. He squeezed Wilson's shoulders again before he resumed rubbing them.

[dr_j_wilson]

Wilson was as surprised by House’s comment as House was himself. He was even a little surprised that House had moved to sit where he now was, his hands on Wilson’s shoulders kneading out tension that he hadn’t even been aware of. Hooking a hand around House’s leg, Wilson stroked his hand slowly down House’s shin.

“It matters a lot,” Wilson admitted in a low voice, hoping House would know that he didn’t just mean here, now either. He knew he’d be feeling a lot worse if he didn’t know that House was by his side, no matter that their relationship was still on very shaky ground. “And…no, they haven’t contacted me. I’m actually…still glad I did it though, that I told them,” Wilson said. “I’ve never felt so…I don’t know. Free.”

Still scared and lost and uncertain as well, of course, but Wilson did add any of that.

Shifting around, Wilson moved so he was more or less facing House and met his eyes, just looking for a moment. Wilson was taken off guard by the sudden intense desire to kiss House when the eye contact brought up a wave of emotion, but he didn’t move. It was no doubt apparent what he was feeling by his expression though, because Wilson made no effort to hide it.

Are we really okay? Wilson wondered. He supposed it might have been a good thing that things had cooled off a little since the night they’d spent together two weeks ago, since the original plan had been to take it slow. House still seemed as awkward with him, but not like he was having doubts. At least Wilson hoped that he wasn’t.

[dr_gregoryhouse]

House let his hands drop from Wilson's shoulders to his lap when Wilson turned to face him, and just as Wilson had been surprised by House's remark a moment ago, House was as taken off-guard by the look on Wilson's face as Wilson was with what he was feeling. So much so, given the awkward tension that was between them and the equally awkward and delicate subject matter they were tentatively discussing, that House's first reaction was to look away; either down at the floor, or across the boat to the water. He didn't, though, by some sheer force -- probably because the look on Wilson's face was so intense House couldn't look away. Not right away, at least.

Talking on this level with Wilson was... hard. And House wasn't even venturing all that much by way of conversation. Having Wilson looking at him like that, like he was right now, made House realise how alone they were on the water, like they were on that deserted island they'd been talking of, away from people and family and responsibilities. That should've brought some measure of comfort to House, and deep down it did. But on the surface it just made this entire thing feel all the more overwhelming; being on such a small, confined space as this boat, seeing the rawness of emotion in Wilson, House feeling the huge jumble of emotions within himself and having nowhere to escape from it. It was such a huge, stark contrast to the last time they were on the boat, where their problems had seemed a thousand miles away while they just enjoyed each other's company.

"I'm glad," House finally managed to say, though he sounded tense when he said that. He made himself draw in a deep breath and then let it out slowly to make himself relax, and he finally turned his eyes down from Wilson, watching his hand reach for Wilson's. He hesitantly slid his hand underneath Wilson's, sought to lace their fingers together and then drew Wilson's hand in towards him. He wasn't even sure why he was being so bold, if this could even be called boldness. Probably because he could see how much Wilson was hurting, and rather than doing what he normally did, which was brick up a barrier between himself and other people's pain by means of sarcasm, House found himself wanting to comfort Wilson. Because he cared about him. Because he... loved him.

He clasped his other hand around Wilson's and he stared down their hands for a moment, watching his thumb trace circles over Wilson's skin. He then looked back up to Wilson and before he could give himself any thought about it, House reached a hand up and slid it around the back of Wilson's neck, and pulled him in towards him.

[dr_j_wilson]

Feeling the touch to his hand, Wilson too looked down, watching as House entwined their hands as if he wasn’t quite sure it was happening. Not that House hadn’t done anything like that before, but because a small part of Wilson had been expecting House to do what he usually did when things got too personal…too emotional. And that was to back off completely. Certainly he hadn’t expected…this. This reaching out to him.

Wilson’s heart jumped when House’s other hand wrapped around the back of his neck, tugging him forward. Looking up, Wilson went with it, meeting House’s eyes before he closed his. The first brush of their lips felt awkward, either because they were awkward or because they both in an awkward position to be kissing. Wilson raised his free hand to wrap around the back of House’s head and twisted around a little more before deepening the kiss, nudging House’s lips open again his.

He supposed it was stupid, since there was no one around to see them, but Wilson felt a kind of freedom to be kissing House outside. Somewhere that wasn’t within four walls and a ceiling. The release of pent up emotion had Wilson pressing harder into the kiss, moving again to get closer to House, until he was kneeling in between House’s legs. The movement knocked his beer bottle over, but Wilson barely noticed and it was empty anyway.

Tugging his hand free from House’s, Wilson moved it to grip House’s hip before breaking the kiss. Breathing hard, Wilson met House’s eyes for a long moment before slowly dropping his head down to rest on House’s shoulder, letting himself relax for the first time all week.

This was the real reason, Wilson thought. Beyond being true to himself, beyond the stripping away of pretence, this - what he had with House - was the real reason he’d came out to his parents. And it was why he was willing to do whatever it took to make this work.

[dr_gregoryhouse]

House's heart was thumping fast by the time the kiss broke, made to beat even faster when he met Wilson's eyes. Being with Wilson, like this, outside in the open air, made House feel both a sense of liberation and paranoia. Fear, too, because this felt like yet another step they were both taking; another step forward in their relationship. Or... whatever this was.

When Wilson leaned in and rested his head against House's shoulder, House didn't react at first; he found himself almost wanting to retract into self-protection mode by closing off and re-establishing some form of barrier between himself and emotions. Why he felt this need to hide that after how much he'd made himself exposed to Wilson on so many levels over the last few weeks, he didn't know. Maybe it was because his stomach was twisting in reaction to a deep-seated emotion he was feeling, that he had a name for but felt too afraid to address.

House forced himself to close his eyes and focus on Wilson instead of the relentless churn of thoughts in his mind. He hesitantly reached his hand up and braced it against the back of Wilson's neck, and gripped it. Heaving a deep sigh, House slowly start to relax just as Wilson had done, and soon found himself rubbing the back of Wilson's neck. He stayed like that for a small while, finally turning his head in and pressing the side of his face against Wilson's.

"It'll be okay," House murmured by Wilson's ear, squeezing his neck one last time before he slid his hand down to the top of Wilson's back. He wasn't actually sure if it would be okay. But right now was all that mattered.

Perhaps to try and bring Wilson onto some level of normalcy, House pulled his hand away and remarked in a tone much more typical of him, "So, what food did you bring? I'm hungry. I demand to be fed. I didn't eat anything before coming out here because of the whole seasickness thing."

[dr_j_wilson]

“Life is tough,” Wilson said, but he was smiling. The smooth transition back to more mundane things was no doubt for the better. They were supposed to be enjoying themselves after all. Pulling back, Wilson met House’s eyes again, trying to communicate his thanks for the support without actually having to say it. Because, when it came down to it, Wilson was no better at saying those type of things than House was.

It was amazing they were able to communicate on a deep level at all, Wilson mused, considering how truly inept they both were with emotions. He couldn’t even say it was because they’d known each other for so long, because from the start they’d always been able to read each other well. A good thing, no doubt, because Wilson doubted they would have lasted as friends for so long without that ability. He could only hope it would be that ability that would let them last as…lovers…partners, whatever the appropriate term was, as well.

“Don’t worry, there’s plenty of food. Plenty of your type of food too,” Wilson said, letting go of House to pick up his beer bottle and get to his feet. “And by that I mean junk food of course,” he added before moving to go down into the cabin. “I’ll go see what I can find.”

A couple of minutes later Wilson came back out, sans shirt and smelling strongly of sunscreen, laden with pizza rolls, soda and chips.

[dr_gregoryhouse]

House used the time Wilson was gone to gather himself together again. He scrubbed his face, drank the rest of his beer, composed himself by shoving away all of the uneasy emotions within him and forcing himself to be more like his usual self, so that by the time Wilson was back on deck with the food, House was grinning roguishly at him. He'd composed himself enough to not even be too taken off-guard by Wilson being without his shirt. Sure, he looked, but he managed to feel no discomfort or unease about looking.

Stretching his arm along the railing behind the seat he was on, he eyed the food greedily as Wilson set it down. "I love how prepared you are," he remarked, reaching down and snatching up the bag of chips. "Catering to my dietry needs. You're such a pal."

Wrestling the bag open, he fished out a handful of chips and stuffed them into his mouth, angling the open bag at Wilson. "Want one? Or several?" he asked around his mouthful.