Dining In

[dr_j_wilson]

Who: Wilson, House (closed)
Where: Wilson's apartment
What: Wilson cooks dinner and House comes over.
When: Monday 22nd May, 7pm

Comments

[dr_gregoryhouse]

House rolled up outside Wilson's place on his bike and killed the engine. He tugged his helmet off and set it down against the handlebars, staring absently down the street. The evening was still in twilight, though only the last vestiges of it; it'd be fully nighttime soon. House was aware that he probably smelled of cigarette smoke and other scents that could only be found in a bar, which only served to remind him of the guilt he felt about lying to Wilson

[dr_j_wilson]

Wilson's head turned at the sound of the door unlocking. For some reason he'd expected a knock and House using his key surprised him in a wholly pleasant way. His lips curved into a small smile when he heard House announce his arrival and for a moment Wilson got a strange black and white image that involved the I Love Lucy theme music. He shook his head and nudged one of the steaks with the fork he was holding

[dr_gregoryhouse]

"I'm not sure they'd burn food the way you burn it," House replied.

He tugged the zip free where the joining teeth at the bottom of his jacket were still connected as Wilson approached him, and House kept his eyes open to watch Wilson's face as they kissed. The guilt bubbling in the pit of his stomach almost made him want to impulsively say to Wilson that he missed Wilson today - he bit it back, though, running his tongue over his top lip when Wilson pulled back from him. House never said things like that, and he knew that would sound suspicious if he did come out with something uncharacteristic.

"Can always do a take two," House offered mock seriously, sliding one hand onto Wilson's hip. "If by Cuban you mean Ricky Ricardo, got some bongos lying around the place for added effect? It's not Cuban unless there are bongos involved."

He smirked, sliding his other hand onto Wilson's hip, then leaned in to kiss Wilson again, slowly this time and with his eyes closed.

[dr_j_wilson]

The feeling of House's hands on him stopped Wilson from shooting back another joke. He was all too eager to indulge, tipping his head to meet House's mouth with his own. The pace was just right too - and whatever nerves he'd been feeling were quieting for the moment. House might've been glad to see him, if Wilson didn't know better, and that had to mean nothing had gone too terribly wrong with Cuddy

[dr_gregoryhouse]

"Pretty sure Ritchie Valens would turn in his grave in faster revolutions, being he endorsed the whole 'La Bamba' deal." He stepped into the kitchen and lifted his cane to lay it across the counter. "Besides, Harry Belefonte might be more suitable. He does more of the catchy Calypso hip-swinging thing, with bongos."

He headed towards the fridge and yanked the door open. He was greeted with the sight of a fridge full of food, all neatly packed away, some of it in labelled containers. Such a far cry from his own fridge, which was pretty much bare, save for a few things that may or may not have passed from edible to fossilising.

"Pickles?" House exclaimed in disgust, reaching for a square container on the bottom shelf. And sure enough, the contents were fresh pickles. "There's something wrong with someone who keeps this stuff willingly in their home

[dr_j_wilson]

Wilson rolled his eyes and turned the burner's heat a notch lower before scooting around House and pulling the fridge's door further open. It took him a moment to find what he needed what with there being so many bottles of various condiments, and Wilson hoped House wouldn't notice that they were vaguely arranged according to size. After reaching his arm down past House to grab the soy sauce, located on the lowest shelf, he shuffled back past him and opened a drawer as he walked

[dr_gregoryhouse]

"My god, you compartmentalise your junk food?" House asked incredulously, looking over his shoulder at the open the drawer. He let the fridge swing shut all the same and sidled over to the drawer to inspect the contents

[dr_j_wilson]

After making sure the edges were browned, Wilson added some salt and then turned off the burner. A couple of beers was exactly what House had said on the phone and Wilson gave a nod. His head was bent slightly, eyes trained on what he was doing, when he felt House's face pressing in against his neck. The pleasingly familiar feeling of House's coarse stubble against his skin made him inhale audibly. Whatever it was that made House distinct to him, Wilson couldn't place. Probably because the list was too long. It had always been that way, even if not physically. But now sensations like the slight scraping against his throat and House's hand on his ass were distinct, too

[dr_gregoryhouse]

House just smiled to himself after Wilson leaned in and nipped at his earlobe, following Wilson out with his eyes. His eyes then landed on the bottle of wine Wilson had been drinking from and after searching around Wilson's kitchen for another wine glass, he carried the glass Wilson had evidently been drinking out of with the clean glass, as well as the bottle, out to the dining area, limping without his cane.

"So, how was your day?" he asked as he set the bottle and glasses down. He stood straight again and started to shrug out of his jacket. "Scale any walls or walk any tightropes like you usually do, or did you just treat some boring cancer and give people the same old boring news that their life is going to reach its historically inevitable dialectical conclusion sooner than you anticipated?"

He draped his jacket over the back of his chair before sitting down, and instantly reached for the wine. "See you've already had some; want more?"

[dr_j_wilson]

"Sure," Wilson said with a quick nod, taking his seat after setting their plates next to the utensils he'd laid out earlier. House asking how his day was and then pouring his wine was...different, too. Wilson glanced at him a moment longer before looking away. "Thanks."

There was no way that things had gone amazingly well with Cuddy, was there? No. That made no sense. House had gone to the bar to settle his head, after all. Although he'd assured Wilson everything was fine. Nothing happened that warranted worry, in other words. Or so House said. So then what was the mood about, Wilson wondered. The only thing that came after Cuddy was the bar. Nothing in a bar that would turn House's head, though. And a few beers surely couldn't make him so

[dr_gregoryhouse]

House wondered to himself, as he poured his own glass of wine, if maybe he was being a bit... telling. Giving away that something wasn't exactly right. Trying to hide something - because he was definitely aware that he was trying to hide something from Wilson. He kept reminding himself that nothing had happened at the bar. Just a drink, regardless of the conversation that had taken place between Cade and himself. But it wasn't the fact that nothing happened - it was the fact that he lied to Wilson about being in the bar on his own. If it ever came out that he hadn't been there on his own, then it would definitely look like he had something to hide, which he technically didn't, but

[dr_j_wilson]

"I think it's got something to do with land, sometimes, too," Wilson replied after swallowing. "Well, not so much now. Now it's oil and...actually, you're right. Oil and boredom." Wilson snorted and scratched his cheek, looking at House as he spoke. "Hm. High school history: The Greg House Version."

Wilson smiled and took up his glass to sip some more wine. It was possible that House was just glad to be eating dinner, glad to be with Wilson. But as much as Wilson tried to cling to that thought, it slipped away and was instantly replaced by the fact that after all these years, he knew House's moods. And this wasn't that.

"So," he began, slicing another bite of steak. "Spoke with Cuddy today? I didn't get out of the office to wish her a happy birthday, and when I finally did she'd gone." Wilson brought his fork to his mouth but kept his eyes on House, unable to shut out the concern.

He didn't like that House felt so tense a trip to the bar was needed to unwind. Of course it was silly of Wilson to think that, and he was just as

[dr_gregoryhouse]

"History would be a lot easier to understand if it was taught my way," he agreed. "The best way to understand history is to understand human nature first. Otherwise, the whole point of why things in history happened is moot

[dr_j_wilson]

"Well of course she's taking him to court," Wilson echoed firmly, as if to assure the world of that statement. "It was a violation of her rights, her privacy. Everything." He became aware of furrowing his brow and relaxed his expression, stabbing another bite with his fork and eating it abruptly. After he was done chewing, Wilson cleared his throat. "After that I think I'd be feeling pretty low, too," he responded quietly to House's note of how Cuddy was fairing

[dr_gregoryhouse]

Something about the firmness of Wilson's voice made House suddenly sit very still and stare down at his meal like a scolded child. Might've been the guilt nibbling away at him, or might've just been Wilson's voice - Wilson had a way of stopping House in silence when he spoke firmly or angrily. He only dared to throw a cursory look at Wilson during the lull of silence and relaxed a little to see Wilson didn't look as firm as he'd just sounded moments before.

Picking his knife up, House began to cut another piece of meat, really desperately wishing he could just slash all the tension out of the air with the knife. He almost timidly took a bite of the meat, bracing himself for Wilson to say something else firm, maybe demand to know the real reason why House had gone to the bar

[dr_j_wilson]

Wilson squeezed his eyes shut and wrinkled his nose when House chuckled, as if comically pained by just how wide open he'd left that last remark. He did chuckle back, though, and drop his head a bit.

"It's those damn smiley faces that pop up when you lose," he argued good-naturedly. "That might inspire genocide whims in lesser men." Wilson smiled a bit and took another bite of his steak.

After another moment he squinted as if contemplating something and then shook his head. "No. I'm much taller than he was. Nothing to worry about, I don't think," he said, smirking slightly. Wilson finished his wine at that and looked across the table at House, setting his elbows on the table and lacing his fingers.

"The steak is terrible, I'm guessing."