Simplicity

"I love you."

Staring expectantly, Kutner kept his eyes trained on Taub as he slowly lifted his head, inclining his gaze towards the taller doctor. He raised an eyebrow with agonizingly slow speed, giving him a deadpan look.

"No, you don't," Taub replied after letting a moment of silence slide by. He held his gaze for another moment before looking back down at the paper work House had left for them to do. The diagnostician didn't do it himself and had appointed Taub to file them away in place of Cameron. Kutner had tagged along to keep him company. Originally, Taub had protested because the walls in the office were made of glass, people could see them, and Kutner merely laughed in response because that hadn't been the company he was thinking of.

"Why not?" Kutner had taken to playing with the double-colored bouncy ball on House's desk, throwing it up into the air and catching it. Occasionally, he would bounce it off the wall and throw it at Taub for amusement.

Exhaling loudly, Taub put down his pen and looked up again, folding his hands neatly on the paperwork scattered across the desk. "Let's not have this conversation, shall we?"

"Why not?" Kutner repeated, breaking eye contact by examining the ball in his hands intently.

"Because it makes things complicated," Taub muttered, staring at the scrawl plastered across the papers. "I like things the way they are now; can't we just keep it like this for a while longer?"

Pursing his lips, Kutner glanced at the older doctor again and took in the tired bags under his eyes and the crease in his forehead. He considered his answer and nodded mutely.

The scratching of pen against paper resumed, along with a bounce echoing in the wall every now and then. Taub didn't look up when he spoke again.

"I love you, too."