~Bee happy~

A few days slipped by like slow-moving clouds, and at last the moment arrived, you were being discharged. You were in much better shape, the color had returned to your face and you were steady on your feet.

House stood beside the hospital bed with his arms crossed, his expression untelling as per usual but the slight tension in his shoulders betrayed him. He watched you as you packed your few belongings.

“You ready?” he asked, the words gruff.

Before you could reach for your bag, he was already slinging it over his shoulder, then. “Come on,” he sighed. “Let’s get you out of here.”

The two of you made your way through the hallway slowly, and as you reached the main corridor, you nearly bumped into Foreman, Chase, and Cameron.

You paused, your expression brightening into a warm, genuine smile. “Oh! Good! I wanted to thank you all again. And I’m sorry our meeting had to be… like this.” You gestured at your still-recovering self. “But Greg insisted on keeping me strictly classified information for years.” You laughed softly.

Foreman nodded but dismissed your apology. “No need to apologize. We’re just glad you’re alright.”

Chase flashed his usual boyish grin, shaking his head a bit, his blonde locks falling to frame his face. “Honestly? It was a nice break from House’s endless complaining.”

House shot him a glare that would have killed a lesser man.

Cameron stepped forward, her smile gentle. “We’re just happy you’re okay, Y/N.”

You squeezed House’s hand and glanced up at him with a mischievous glint, he knew exactly this couldn’t mean anything good… 

“Why don’t you invite them to our dinner party next weekend? It would be fun. And Wilson will come too.” A playful roll of your eyes followed. “And that way you won’t have to just stand around looking judgmental at my friends.”

House looked like you'd suggested they attend a clown convention in full costume, which maybe didn’t even sound that bad in comparison to this. His eyes widened in immediate horror.

But Chase lit up instantly. “A dinner party? I’m in.”

Foreman chuckled at House’s obvious suffering and couldn’t resist but agree. “I can make it. As long as there’s decent food.”

Cameron nodded eagerly as well. “I’d love to come!”

House let out a strangled groan.

“Fine,” he grumbled. “But don’t expect me to socialize. Or be polite.”

“I would never, darling.” You laughed and kissed his cheek.

You turned back to the trio. “Then it’s settled. I look forward to seeing you all next Friday.”

As if summoned by House’s suffering, Wilson rounded the corner at that very moment.

“Oh… hello, Wilson!” you greeted your friend warmly.

Wilson beamed at you. “Y/N! You look far better than last time I saw you.” His eyes flicked toward House, amused. “Dinner party, huh?”

You nodded as you continued explaining. “Yes! Our third anniversary. And since Gregory here never once properly introduced me to his team, I figured it was time to fix that…”

Cameron frowned slightly, only now did she realize they had not entirely solved this mystery secret marriage yet. “House… why didn’t you ever tell us you were married? You let us think women universally despised you, and meanwhile you had a wife this whole time-”

“My personal life isn’t a spectator sport.” he glared at Wilson, who lifted his hands as though innocent. “And you already knew. Don’t act so surprised.”

You merely laughed, brushing a hand along House’s arm as you leaned in, your voice softer as you spoke now. “It’ll be lovely, you’ll see.”

“Alright then,” you told the team. “Next Friday after work.”

House made a long, dramatic sound of pure agony as he rubbed his temples. “Yeah. Can’t wait.”

With a few more farewells, you and House finally continued toward the exit, falling into your usual pattern of effortless, affectionate bickering. In the parking lot, House carefully settled your bag into the back seat of your car. No motorcycles, not yet… and then helped you into the passenger seat before limping around to drive you home.

For the first time in days, you let yourself relax.

You were going home…with him.

House muttered all the way home, low and half formed complaints under his breath, though the faint upwards pull of his mouth betrayed him. You had always been able to get under his skin and into his head.

He parked in your driveway and climbed out, immediately circling the car to help you. His hands were careful, infuriatingly gentle, as he guided you up the steps and into the house. As soon as the door clicked shut, he sagged back against it, exhaling a long, tired breath. You saw the irritation slipping from his features, replaced by something close to raw relief.

“I'm never going to hear the end of this from those idiots…” he sighed, dragging his hand over his face.

“At least now they know you get some…” you teased softly, winking at him over your shoulder as you pushed open the door to the living room.

Suddenly you paused at the sight. The place looked like … well. Medical journals, sheet music, notes, all spread across the floor and couch, with the occasional takeout container standing in between. Books lay open across the couch, notes were scattered on the coffee table, and two empty bottles sat on the floor.

You raised one brow. “Rough night, hm?”

House shrugged and limped forward, collapsing onto the couch with a grunt, shoving away a book and some used wooden chopsticks. “Well, someone had to keep the place from getting too clean." He nudged a bottle aside with the tip of his cane. “Wouldn’t want you thinking I replaced you with a mop.”

You let out a breathy laugh, rolling your eyes as you put your bag down on the floor, sitting down on the couch next to him.

House turned to really look at you, his voice softening the tiniest bit.

“You’re home…”

You let the tension leave your body, closing your eyes as you leaned gently against him. “I am…” you whispered, as though admitting it made it truly real again. With a slow, careful wince, you curled your legs onto the couch and draped them across his lap, snuggling closer. Your lips pressed feather-light kisses along his cheek, his jaw, the corners of his mouth. “I missed being with you… like this.”

House inhaled sharply, his hand instinctively resting on your calf. The tension in him eased, melting under your touch.

“You have no idea,” he said, inhaling sharply, his hand moving to lay on your calf. His eyes wandered over your face like he was relearning it, every wrinkle, every shadow, every lash, every speckle of color in your eyes. “I couldn’t sleep at all. I hate the bed without you.”

Your heart felt full as he said that, like a hard squeeze in your chest. “You look exhausted,” you said gently, your fingers tracing slow, soothing lines across the back of his neck. “How’s your leg? Any better?”

“It’s fine,” he said, his gaze avoiding yours. But the corner of his jaw twitched. A tell you knew far too well.

“So… worse,” you concluded quietly. “How many pills today?”

He let out a breath through his nose, sharp and irritated, mostly at himself. “Not enough,” he said gruffly. “But I’m managing.”

“Gregory.” Your voice softened, and he hated how he knew you worried. “Cameron said she’d cover your clinic duty. Tomorrow. For me. You should rest.” You hesitated, searching his face. “We could order takeout, have a bottle of wine, and we can watch your show...”

House clenched his jaw, opened his mouth about to shoot out some sarcastic complaint, but when he saw your sincere and worried eyes, it made his chest ache in that horrid way he hated.

“You worry too much,” he muttered, but his hand tightened around your thigh in acceptance. “Fine. But I’m choosing the show.”

You smiled and nestled closer, your hair falling in waves across his shoulder.

A sudden meow broke the moment.

Lola leapt gracefully onto the couch, tail twitching from left to right.

You lit up instantly.

“Oh, my princess…” you cooed, gathering the calico up and kissing her cheeks. “Did you miss me?”

House rolled his eyes, unable to stop a tiny smile. That cat had you both wrapped around her paw.

“You realize she’s the most spoiled creature in this entire hemisphere,” he said, scratching Lola under the chin despite himself. “I fed her, cleaned her litter, and she still acts like I’m the help.”

“She loves you,” you insisted. “But I play with her. On good days you give her medical lectures on feline anatomy.”

Lola hopped down and rubbed her face against House’s cane before trotting back to the hiding cave of her cat tree. You laughed softly and reached for House, cupping his face with both hands. Your thumbs brushed tenderly over his unshaven cheeks.

“There was a moment…” you whispered after a moment of silence, your voice trembling just barely, “where I was scared I wouldn’t get to be here with you again.”

House froze briefly before leaning into your touch.

“Don’t.” he said quietly, a crack of vulnerability splitting through. “You’re stuck with me for years. Decades. I fully intend to outlive you out of sheer spite.”

You laughed. “Terrifying.”

Then you kissed him, slow, firm, lingering. His breath caught in his throat in surprise, his fingers curling around your waist as he kissed you back, deeper this time, like the worry of the past days was finally loosening.

When he broke the kiss, his forehead rested against yours.

“You’re insufferable, Dr. Y/N House.” he spoke against your lips.

“I can only return the compliment, Dr. Gregory House.”

And then he kissed you again.

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

END OF CASE #011

Diagnosis: To be continued.

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

♡ likes, reblogs & comments keep this clinic running.

Masterlist • Taglist

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

Current Patients

✦ @wildly-free-bee ✦ @cl0u-dy ✦ @johnpricesho ✦ @kneelarmhstrung ✦ @localcrayoneater ✦ @urfinalg1rl ✦ @lune-caretaker ✦ @random-venusian ✦ @petijuno ✦ @thefemininemystiquee

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━