Title: Noticed
Author: Ravenaiya (aka samuraiheart)
Pairing: House/Wilson
Rating: G
Summary: House wants to know why Wilson has been avoiding him.
Disclaimer: I don't own them, but if I did...
Notes: This is slash so don't read any further if you have a problem with that.
It was ten minutes before the end of his shift and House was on a mission to find Wilson. They hadn't seen much of each other over the last few days and as much as he liked to pretend it wasn't so, House knew there was something wrong.
Luckily, Wilson was an easy target to find. He had an incomprehensible habit of taking on extra clinic hours whenever he was having a difficult time of things.
House made his way down to the clinic, glancing around furtively before approaching to make sure Cuddy was nowhere in sight. He was in luck. She was nowhere to be seen and Wilson was just escorting a patient out of an exam room. Wilson stood in the doorway, looking over the small crowd of patients in the waiting area, about to call the name of the next one.
Before he got the chance, House walked past him and into the exam room, waiting for Wilson to close the door and turn around. When he did, House sat down and leaned forward on his cane, chin resting on the top of it, looking up at Wilson and ignoring his exasperated sigh.
"We need to talk." House said.
"I really don't think we do." Wilson answered cautiously, avoiding his gaze, glancing down at his watch. "Shouldn't you be on your way out?"
"You can't avoid me forever." House said quietly, tapping his cane against the linoleum. There was a very small hint of amusement creeping into his voice.
Wilson frowned at him. "I wasn't aware that I was avoiding you. You know where my office is, you haven't come by."
"Oh give it up, James. How many times on average do you usually come to my office? How many times do you seek me out during a day? For the last two days, I've hardly seen you." (Not that he was counting.) House was not going to let this go, no matter how much Wilson might want him to.
"That's not conclusive. I've been busy." Wilson flipped the pages on his clipboard distractedly.
"We're not discussing a patient here." House reached forward to take away the clipboard, setting it aside and waiting for Wilson to look at him. He did, for just a moment, brown eyes wide and uncertain, and then he turned away, facing the back wall. His next words were quiet and bitter.
"So, what, when you display some erratic lack of common sense, and you try to distance yourself from the problem by over-analyzing the situation, it's okay, but when I do it, it's suddenly wrong?"
"So, you admit there is a problem?" House was leaning forward now. He knew he was taking a risk with such an assumption, but if it paid off he'd have his friend right where he wanted him. (Well, maybe not exactly where.)
"The great Dr. House strikes again. Very clever." Wilson turned to face him, still not meeting his gaze exactly, but closer. A small nod of his head at the last comment. A grudging admission.
"James, what's going on?" Wilson glared at House, finally meeting his inquisitive stare.
"What's going on? Well, I'll tell you what's going on. My life is falling apart and my best friend hasn't even noticed." Wilson tried to keep the edge out of his voice as he spoke. He emphasized the last words, speaking them slowly and steadily, only a slight edge to his voice indicating his anger.
"I've noticed." House gazed at him steadily.
Wilson shrugged his shoulders in defeat and frowned back at his friend. "I'm not hearing any substantiating evidence to back that up."
"I didn't know what to say."
"So you just decided to leave me alone, let me work this all out by myself, let me be miserable without interfering at all with your existence? How very thoughtful."
"It's not like that. I just didn't want to make things worse."
"How could you possibly make things worse?" Wilson held his gaze for a long moment, shaking his head slightly in disbelief. Then, he sank down into the chair opposite House, leaning his head against his hand, and drawing in a shaky breath. He shook his head again, his bangs falling over his eyes as he ran a hand through his hair and shrugged his shoulders, staring at the edge of the exam table, willing himself not to look up at the man sitting across from him as he heard House scoot forward.
And then, House's hand was on his shoulder, giving it a gentle squeeze, and House was just inches away from him looking at him with an uncertain expression on his face.
And then, House leaned forward, hand coming up to cup Wilson's cheek, finger brushing across the line of his jaw.
"Like this."
And then House was kissing him, gently at first, lips on lips and tongue over teeth. He was pressing against him, tangling his other hand in Wilson's hair, eyes closed.
Wilson closed his eyes too, leaning into the kiss, ignoring the rush of emotions that told him to pull away. He was savoring it, tasting it, lingering there in the gentle embrace as House kept one hand on Wilson's shoulder.
When House pulled away, Wilson stared at him, not certain what to say.
"What was that?" He finally managed to ask.
"My substantiating evidence." House answered matter-of-factly, but there was a small amount of hesitation behind his eyes.
"What?"
"Maybe it was counter-evidence then."
"What are you talking about?"
"I have no idea."
Wilson shook his head and let out another exasperated sigh, but this time he was smiling. "I don't even know what to say to that."
"Say we can do it again."
"Absolutely."
The End