Echolocation by yarroway (R)

[flywoman.livejournal.com]

Fandom: HOUSE M.D.
Pairing: House/Wilson
Length: 18,380 words
Author on LJ: yarroway
Author Website: Author's Fic on LJ

Why this must be read:

 yarroway writes a wonderfully in-character established House/Wilson relationship, with all of the complications one might imagine, but underlying all, a fundamental loyalty and love. In this fic, House's unresolved feelings about his family are stirred up when his mother asks him to come home to visit his father's gravestone, and you may find yourself alternately giggling and tearing up as Wilson works to figure out what is going wrong with their relationship and what, if anything, he can do to fix it.

To steal borrow unabashedly from one commenter, "I'm honestly not sure if this is good because it hurts so much, or if it hurts because it's so good. Either way, it's wonderful."


Wilson stood at the stove making breakfast. If the way to a man’s heart were through his stomach, he should have been making toast with hagelslag. But they were out of those little chocolates, and Wilson was far too tired to attempt anything more involved than oatmeal. Besides, he didn’t honestly think it would matter.

In the last two weeks, something had gone very wrong between him and House. There were random pages, calls, and visits throughout the day, designed to test where he was and who he was with. There were the nights House didn’t come home until after he knew Wilson would be asleep. Last Friday morning he’d awakened to a note saying House had gone to a poker tournament in Toronto, and later that night he’d gotten a call from a very drunk House claiming to be in bed with another man.

“We have an open relationship,” Wilson had replied. “You can test me all you like. I’m not going to fuck around.”

“Good,” House had replied, and done something to make his bedmate give a long, loud moan.

Wilson hadn’t slept the rest of that night. Something had broken between them. If he didn’t fix this soon it would spiral out of control, taking his hard-won happiness with it. And he had been happy. They both had. They fought, they made up, they argued and hurt each other, no different now than it had ever been. But now the bond between them, the thing that kept them coming back to each other no matter what, had strengthened and blossomed. They played more, and they laughed more. Wilson had rarely felt so in love, and House, who refused all sentimentality, had cut way down on the pills--as good a declaration of happiness as Wilson could wish.

Maybe it was the anniversary of their relationship that had changed things, or maybe the Budd-Chiari patient had somehow hit a nerve. All Wilson knew was that House had been antsy for a month, and impossible for the last two weeks. He sighed, and stirred brown sugar into the oatmeal.

He heard thumping steps coming into the kitchen.

“It’s almost ready,” Wilson said, as House came up behind him.

“What is that?” House asked in a disgusted voice, peering over his shoulder at the pot.

“Oatmeal. And if you’re a bad boy, you won’t get any."

“What do I get if I’m very bad?” House asked lewdly.

“More oatmeal.”

House smacked Wilson’s ass and sat down at the table.

“No, that’s all right, House. I’ll get the bowls myself. You sit down. You’ve had a hard morning sleeping in and molesting me.”


Note: Technically this is a sequel to another story called The Countenance of the Heart, but you don't need to read that one first - I hadn't.

Echolocation