Disclaimer: Not mine.
Warnings: slash, hardcore fluff, my possibly mutilation of House. I try, I really do.
Author's Note: I think this is the first House fic I'd writting which is not based on a specific episode :D;
When he looks back, Wilson sees his relationship with House as more of a series of events, a set of discrete data, rather than a continuous function. It isn't that every second of time that he gets to spend with House isn't what he wanted; he has always been a glutton for punishment when House is the disciplinarian, and he certainly doesn't take House for granted. But House isn't one to be very loving, and he doesn't exactly wear his heart on his sleeve, and so the defining moments stand out from the rest, like distinct black points on a set of axes.
The first point, of course, was the first time, the time when Wilson wasn't paying any attention to anything besides, for once, how miserable he was. House had come in spouting some obnoxious news about god-only-knew-what, and hadn't stopped until he realized that not only was Wilson not scolding him, he was not responding at all. It's still vivid in his mind, the noise of the blinds being pulled shut and the click of the lock on the door, and he had looked up in confusion. That had been when House cupped his face and pulled him into a kiss.
The next Saturday was the next entry in the set, that had been the day when Wilson had moved in with House. His divorce was final now, but it hardly mattered, the one wish he had been secretly harbouring for almost a year had come true. While he unpacked his things, House, of course sat in the background and was obnoxious, but only when Wilson was done did he pin him against the wall with his cane and proceed to give him more hickeys than he was sure he had ever had, collectively, in his life.
The next point didn't come for another month and a half, but once it did, Wilson has never been quite sure how had got on before the event. It had been late in the evening, and he and House had both had trying days at work. They had sat around watching television mindlessly and drinking for a few hours before, all of a sudden, Wilson found House's lips on his own. He didn't object, of course, but rather melted, and before he knew what was happening, he was on his back in bed. He had never in his life felt so complete, and he remembered the day with reverence.
There are many points after that, even if they are somewhat far-between, every time Wilson began to feel down of lonely, it seemed, House gave him another occasion to remember. Now is one of those times; work is hard and two of his patients are very close to dying, and he's feeling gloomy and depressed. House can tell, House can read him like a book, and so Wilson hopes he can guess what's coming when the other man drops down onto the couch beside him.
"Hey, Wilson...what's up with you lately?"
Wilson shrugs. "Nothing."
House rolls his eyes. "Nothing is ever nothing with you."
"And my problems never receive anything but ridicule from you," Wilson shoots back, giving House a brief look before going back to wallowing in his misery.
House sighs. There is a long, semi-awkward pause before he speaks again. "Well, if you're being too much of an emo kid, I guess I won't, then."
"Won't what?" Wilson momentarily forgets his depression, despite his best efforts.
"I'm not going to tell you. You were mean to me."
"House, stop being a jerk."
"Please." Wilson is so exasperated by now that he hopes whatever House has to say is good, because if it's not, Wilson's going to be pretty darn pissed.
House hesitates a moment, then starts on a completely different topic. "You know civil unions are legal in Jersey now?"
"What are you talking about?" Wilson is now thoroughly annoyed and confused. "What were you going to tell me before?"
House shrugged. "It's exactly the same as marriage but with a different name. I guess politicians just like making things complicated."
"House. What the hell are you going on about?" Wilson really just wished he knew what House was talking about.
House raised his eyebrows. "I just wanted to make sure we were clear."
"Clear on what?"
"Well, that when I ask you to marry me, I really mean get a civil union. But that sounds so much less romantic, don't you think?"
There is a note in his sarcastic tone that is different than usual, more hesitant, almost nervous. Wilson is in the early stages of wondering about it when the words themselves sink in.
"I--what?" He gapes, wide eyed, unable to manage real words.
House rolls his eyes. "You're killing the moment, Jimmy."
Wilson is still beyond comprehensive sentences. "I--House--are you...?"
"I don't know what you're talking about, but probably," House grins.
Wilson can't quite get his mouth closed, but he tries. "I--yes!"
"Yes what?" House is fully teasing now. "Yes, civil union does sound less romantic?"
House gives him a lopsided grin and cuts off his exasperation with a kiss. It is possibly the sweetest kiss Wilson has had in his entire life. When House pulls back finally, he almost appears embarrassed. "I have a ring for you, somewhere, if you want. It's a piece of crap, but it seemed weird not to have it."
Wilson rests his head on House's shoulder and smiles softly. "You can get it for me later...sit here with me for a while."
House acquiesces, and they sit for a while. As Wilson feels House's comforting hand around his body and his heartbeat against his chest, he smiles to himself. Even when House ignored him or was a jerk, the way he had a tendency to be, it would be all right. This event, it seemed, besides being the most vivid point of them all, was just enough to make everything okay. To connect the dots.