Categories > TV > House > I, Who Have Nothing1 Reviews
He’d caught House being overly affectionate with Cuddy. Despite the fact that it was completely normal for House to be a manipulate jerk, it still stung. He wasn’t used to being so jealous. Shooting death glares through the glass door that separated House’s office from the hall, he huffed down the hall. Wilson kept himself busy for the rest of the day, trying to focus on his patients, and not his pathetic excuse for a relationship.
When Wilson arrived home, he saw House fiddling with a baby monitor, the rest of the contents of the box strewn across the couch.
“Are you expecting?” Wilson asked sarcastically.
“Oh, Wilson, you caught me!” House responded in mock surprise. “But you’ll be there for our baby, right? Be my baby’s daddy?” House batted his eyes longingly.
Wilson scoffed as he made his way into the living room. “Seriously, what is this all about?”
“Isn’t it obvious? You need monitoring,” he replied, nodding at the boxes on the couch.
“House!” he exclaimed, obviously offended. “I am an adult. Is-is this really necessary?”
“You’ve proven you can’t be left to your own devices. Plus, studies show that when ‘big brother’ is watching, you’ll have a higher chance of not relapsing.”
“What study?” Wilson snapped.
“A medical study, duh! Don’t you read medical studies, Doctor Wilson?”
Wilson rolled his eyes and headed towards the kitchen. “What do you want for dinner?”
“Something homemade. To keep your hands busy,” House responded, chuckling.
Wilson loosened his tie, and slipped it off. Griping around the kitchen, he found the proper ingredients to make something palatable.
Truth be told, he was glad to be home at a reasonable hour. Glad to know that someone cared about him to know his whereabouts and to keep him in line. He rolled out the thawed pizza dough and thought about how he’d make it.
“Makin’ a lot of noise in there! What is it?” House bellowed from the couch.
“Spinach chicken pizza with a salad.”
House groaned animatedly. “Why do you insist on making hippie crap?”
“It’s to trick you into eating your vegetables.”
“It’s not very tricky if I can see the damn vegetables on the pizza. Can’t we just order out if it’s just pizza?”
“I’m keeping my hands busy,” Wilson replied, mocking House. “Watch your show so I can finish dinner.”
House returned to his Tivo, selecting an episode of Family Guy that would surely curl Wilson’s toes.
Wilson ignored the TV and immersed himself in preparing a good meal. Baking and cooking were considered an art form to Wilson. It was his secret passion. Even considered going to school to become a chef. His dad considered all male chefs to be a ‘bunch of queers’ and that ‘no boy of his would ever waste their life making food.’ Medical school was really his only option. Wouldn’t dad love to see him now, Gay, baking, and a world-class oncologist. He always wondered where his life would have led him if he went to a culinary school, but usually his religious background would guilt him into being grateful for what he had. And really, he couldn’t complain. He was a doctor, making a difference in the world. He was also in love with a brilliant doctor, who was also a royal pain in the ass.
Wilson put the pizza in the oven, and whipped up a simple salad. House was going to complain about the salad, so he threw in extra tomatoes in his portion and croutons. Wilson handed the plate to House and wandered back into the kitchen.
“Eat it. Don’t just pick out the croutons.”
House poked around his salad with his fingers, secretly searching out the croutons and tomatoes. 15 minutes later, the timer went off, and the kitchen and eventually the apartment filled with the aroma of ‘hippie pizza’. House’s mouth watered, and waited patiently to be served.
“You didn’t even touch your spinach,” Wilson pouted.
“Was saving room for pizza,” House replied, taking a slice from Wilson.
“You have two slices on your plate.”
“Consider it a compliment,” he said, stuffing his face.
Wilson sighed, and went back to the kitchen.
“Grab me a bottle of water, will ya?”
“Not a beer?” Wilson thought to himself. A positive step. “Yeah, I’ll get it.”
House pushed play on the Tivo, and the opening jingle for Family Guy rang throughout the room.
“You know I hate this show. Is this part of my punishment?” Wilson stated calmly.
“No, it’s part of your training. Your sense of humor is seriously lacking. If you pay attention, you may get a laugh or two.”
“So what you’re saying is, I should laugh at the racist, hateful… crap that is perpetuated on that show?”
House stared at him blankly. “Yes.”
A smile curled on Wilson’s lips. He popped a piece of chicken in his mouth, and awaited the horrors he was about to behold.
After two hours of being offended, utterly horrified and laughing at jokes he shouldn’t have, it was time to wind down and go to bed. Wilson reached over and switched the TV off.
“Have you been a good boy?” House murmured.
“Yeah,” Wilson responded tiredly.
House put his hand on the couch cushion, waiting for Wilson to snatch it up. But it was gentle how their hands met. Their fingers linked perfectly. A comfortable silence settled over them that was almost peaceful.
“It was hard today,” Wilson confessed.
House sniggered and replied, “I don’t know what to do about your blue balls situation.”
“Way to go, killing the moment.”
House’s expression softened, and nodded, agreeing that the limit of physical connection was also difficult on him.
“God, I was so jealous today. I wanted to rip Cuddy off you and throw her out of your office.”
“I initiated the hug. One of her friends found out they have a tumor. It seemed appropriate at the time.”
Guilt rushed over Wilson’s features. He sighed, and scrubbed his hand over his face. “I’m an asshole.”
House snickered to himself, a goofy grin appeared on his face.
“You’re lying!” Wilson exclaimed indignantly.
House laughed clearly louder than necessary, but he found it funny.
“You enjoy torturing me, don’t you?” Wilson asked sourly.
“If for anything, it’s to see the expression change in your eyes. So much passion.”
Wilson sighed wearily. “I’m going to bed.”
House stood up and stretched his arms. “G’night, James.”
Wilson’s heart skipped a beat when House used his first name. To Wilson, it was second to hearing him say ‘I love you.’
House reached down and picked up the baby monitor. He flicked on the switch and the red light shone steadily. A devilish grin spread across his face. “You thought I forgot. Tsk, Tsk, Jimmy.”
“Love you too, ‘big brother,” Wilson replied with a grin.