#hope they're not too ooc asjdhsafj

[dorkylittleweirdo]

Hilson Hanahaki

Birds chirped in the clear, blue sky, enjoying the warm weather as they searched for food to bring their young. The trees were green with life, some of them flowering. The tall grass shot up from the ground, framing the delicate flowers that sprung from its depths. A gentle breeze shook a few loose leaves from the trees, and they floated lazily through the air, passing by the hospital.

Wilson sat at his desk, staring out the window at the birds and leaves that passed his office. He blinked himself back to reality, shaking the lingering thoughts from his head. He tried to focus on his work, but soon turned away to let out a few harsh coughs into his hand. He pulled his hand away, his shoulders dropping as he stared at the pale yellow primrose petals in his hand.

It was springtime, which meant that anyone with hanahaki disease was suffering. Wilson knew a few others at the hospital with the disease, and all of them were struggling to keep it on the down low. Wilson knew if House discovered his affliction, he would never let him hear the end of it. To make matters worse, House was the cause of Wilson's suffering. Imagining the smug look on the diagnostician's face was almost as painful to Wilson as the hanahaki. He tossed the petals into his trash can. He'd made it through years of being hopelessly in love with House, surely he could manage through the spring. After all, he'd been doing it every year for longer than he could remember.

House spun around in his chair, glaring at the forget-me-not petals in his hand. He crushed them in his hand, roughly shoving them into his pocket. He silently cursed Wilson for making him sick, but knew it was useless to try hating the man. He was sick because he was in love with that damn oncologist. House shook his head angrily, coughing up more petals into his hand and forcing them into his already-full pockets. He let out a huff, leaning back in his chair and gazing out the window. This was going to be a long few months. House pushed himself up from his chair, grabbing his cane and limping out of his office. He made his way to Wilson's office, forcefully opening the door and walking in.

Wilson glanced up from his paperwork, setting his pen down with a sigh and getting more comfortable in his chair. He watched as House flopped down in the seat in front of his desk, kicking his legs up onto the desk, effectively knocking a few things to the floor. Wilson shut his eyes, inhaling deeply through his nose, and opening them back up when he exhaled. He couldn't believe that this was the man he was in love with.

"Oops," House said simply in his normal, sarcastic tone.

"What do you want?" Wilson sighed, moving to pick up the supplies House had knocked to the ground. He pushed his feet off the desk, placing the objects back in their original positions.

"I can't just stop in and say hi? I have to want something?" He gasped, feigning offence as he moved a hand over his chest, looking at Wilson with a hurt expression.

"No, you can't. So what do you want?"

"Nothing."

"You're lying. You wouldn't have come in here if-" Wilson held up a finger, turning away to cough into his hand. He felt more petals climbing up his throat, then landing in his hand, which he kept tightly clamped over his mouth. He bent down, making sure House couldn't see him throwing the yellow petals into the trash. He came back up with a pen that he kept under his desk for this reason.

"I knew it," House declared, standing abruptly from his seat. He pressed his palms against the desk and leaned forward, squinting at Wilson.

"Knew what?" He implored, not meeting House's eyes.

"You have hanahaki," he stated confidently, staring intensely at Wilson, who finally met his gaze with an annoyed look.

"I have hayfever," Wilson objected, shaking his head. "I'm allergic to ragweed."

"Ragweed makes you sneeze," House pointed out. "And I'm sure if I look through your trash can, I'll find all the proof I need." He walked around to where Wilson sat, glowering at him when he blocked the trash can.

"I'm not letting you dig through the trash," Wilson stated incredulously, furrowing his brows in confusion and slight disgust.

"Because you have something to hide," House speculated, earning an aggravated eye roll from the oncologist.

"I don't," he chided, shaking his head and turning his attention back to the work in front of him.

"Then let me look."

"You're acting like a child."

House advanced towards the trash, holding Wilson back with his cane and quickly snatching it. He peered inside, then quickly tossed it back, having confirmed his suspicion. Wilson stared at him wide-eyed, unsure of how House would react. To his surprise, House said nothing, only turned and limped out of his office. Wilson watched him leave in stunned silence, taking notice of a small, blue object that fluttered out of his pocket.

As soon as the door closed, Wilson was out of his seat, moving to inspect the fragment. He picked it up, his brown eyes widening with realization. He carefully held the tattered blue petal in his hand, frowning as he walked back to his chair, throwing himself down into it. He let out a heavy sigh, staring at the petal in his hand. There was no doubt in his mind that House also had hanahaki disease, but that also meant that there was no way he loved him back. Wilson set the blue petal on his desk as he began hacking up more yellow petals. A few drops of blood flecked the delicate flowers, the bright red contrasting harshly against the yellow. Wilson grimaced slightly. He hadn't expected this much blood until at least a couple more weeks, which meant his condition was advancing quicker this year. He groaned audibly, throwing the blood-stained petals into the trash in frustration. How he hated being jealous.

House limped back to his office, leaning heavily on his cane. He couldn't believe that Wilson hadn't told him he was in love with someone, and what was more unbelievable was that he hadn't figured it out. He slammed his office door upon entering, throwing his cane down in frustration. He popped a couple vicodin into his mouth, swallowing them down as he favored his leg slightly, slowly lowering himself into his seat. He leaned his head back, glaring at the work in front of him as his mind raced. He inhaled deeply, triggering another fit of coughing. He spat up more clumps of blue petals, cursing his love for that damn oncologist that didn't love him back. Love really did hurt.

Wilson decided to confront House at lunch, inviting him to a small diner near the hospital. He sat at a table, fiddling with the flower petal while he waited for House to arrive. He looked up when he heard someone sit across from him, offering the diagnostician a tight smile.

"Where's the menu?" House demanded, not bothering with a greeting.

"I already ordered," Wilson grumbled. "And hello to you too, by the way."

"You ordered for me?" He inquired, quirking a brow at him. He completely ignored the attempt at a greeting. 

Wilson rolled his eyes, shaking his head slightly as he folded his arms across his chest with a small shrug. "I know what you like." He regretted saying those words the moment they left his mouth. He quickly grabbed the napkin from his lap, placing it over his mouth and choking up more bloodied primrose petals into it. He gasped for air the moment the small fit ended, and looked up at House, who was staring at him with an expression he couldn't quite place.

"That's what you get for loving someone," House remarked, taking a long drink from his water glass.

"You're one to talk," Wilson scoffed, looking him up and down.

House glared at him. "What's that supposed to mean?"

Wilson placed the small forget-me-not petal onto the table, watching as House's clear, blue eyes momentarily filled with fear before returning to their normal, unamused state. Wilson tilted his head slightly, his gentle, brown eyes full of concern and empathy.

"You think that's mine?" House questioned, looking slightly offended. "I don't do love."

"Then why did it fall out of your pocket this morning?"

"You clearly saw wrong."

"I didn't."

"You really think I'd be stupid enough to fall in love? Love is just a chemical-" House was cut off by a harsh bout of coughing. Small, blue petals fluttered from his mouth before he could hide it, the red tinge of blood mixed with the brilliant blue. He recomposed himself after a few moments, not daring to look at Wilson's face. He stood from the table, hobbling back out without even waiting for his food.

"House!" Wilson called, desperate to talk to him about this. He watched helplessly as the man he loved walked away from him. He coughed up more petals, a stray tear streaking down his cheek from both the force of the painful fit and the even more painful confirmation that House was in love with another. There was nothing else he could do except wait for the food and bill, his mind endlessly cycling through everything he wanted to say to House.

House limped back to the hospital, an angry look on his face. He hit the button on the elevator with the bottom of his cane, waiting impatiently for the doors to open. He stepped into the elevator and pressed the button of his desired floor, watching the metal doors close once again. He walked out of the elevator as soon as the doors opened on his floor, making his way down the hallway to his office and throwing himself into his seat, exhaling deeply.

He reached a hand into his pocket, revealing a fistful of small, bright blue petals. He frowned, his brow furrowed as he violently threw the clump at his garbage can. Forget-me-nots fluttered about, some of the petite petals missing the trash and landing noiselessly on the ground. House turned away, not caring that there was obvious proof of his condition littering his office floor. He gagged on more of the small flowers as they clawed their way up his throat, leaning forward to spit them out into the trash. He let out a small, pained groan as he leaned back in his office chair, a couple more coughs escaping his lips, petals following suit. House picked up one of the petals, turning it in his hand. The forget-me-not was tattered, but a petal away from being a whole flower.

He popped another vicodin, pondering how he would survive another spring with his hanahaki already getting this bad. He tried to work through his mind who Wilson could possibly be in love with, but couldn't fathom who. House rubbed his temples, frustrated with himself that he couldn't figure it out. He was only sure about one thing: Wilson wasn't in love with him. The thought alone caused him to hack up more petals, each flower more complete than the last. Droplets of blood flew from his mouth and splattered on his desk and papers. He glared at the bright red splotches, running a hand through his hair.

More thoughts flooded through his consciousness, and he pondered each thought. He could easily get the surgery to remove the infection, but he wasn't sure if he wanted to lose his feelings for Wilson. But Wilson didn't love him back. The surgery would get rid of every lingering feeling for him, and he could go back to his normal life. He wondered what normal would feel like, as he had only known love for Wilson for years. Ultimately, he decided that the surgery would be his best option, and made a call to schedule his surgery for the following week. As soon as he placed the phone down, Wilson walked in with a plastic bag.

"Here," Wilson sighed, placing the bag on his desk.

House peered suspiciously into the bag. A to-go box sat inside, which he pulled out and opened. "What did you do to it?" He inquired, inspecting the sandwich.

"Nothing," Wilson huffed, shaking his head irritably.

"You drug it?"

"Why would I knowingly give you more drugs? Let alone waste them on you."

"I dunno, Jimmy. You're the one who drugged my food."

"You don't have to eat it."

House quickly grabbed one of the halves and stuffed it into his mouth, taking a massive bite. He chewed the sandwich, staring innocently at Wilson, who only shook his head again.

"So… can we talk?" Wilson asked, a pleading look in his eyes as he pulled up a chair.

"This was a peace offering," House mumbled through a mouthful of food.

"I didn't know how else to get you to talk," he sighed, rubbing the back of his neck. "I just-"

"I'm getting the surgery."

Wilson froze. "What?" He croaked, his mouth dry.

"I'm getting the surgery," he repeated, not meeting Wilson's horrified gaze.

"But- but you know the effects of it. You- you'll never be able to fall in love again, and-"

"I know," House snapped, balling his hand into fists. "But there's no point in being in love with someone who doesn't love me back."

"But-"

"But nothing. I'm getting the surgery."

Wilson let out another series of harsh coughs, the pale yellow primrose petals being forced from his lungs by the violent expulsion of air. He doubled over in the chair, gagging into his hand and heaving, blood-stained flowers rushing out of his mouth. He gasped for a breath, staring down in horror at the tattered flowers in his hand. He wasn't expecting whole flowers until the end of spring.

"Maybe you should get the surgery, too," House deadpanned, earning a pointed glare from Wilson. He held out the trash can to the oncologist, shaking it slightly.

Wilson gathered the primrose into his hands, moving to toss them into the trash. He noticed the forget-me-nots in the garbage, the small blue flowers also nearly whole. He hesitated for a moment, then tossed the pale yellow flowers in with the blue ones.

"Why are you getting the surgery..?" Wilson asked softly after a while.

"I told you, it's pointless loving someone who doesn't love you back."

"If it's about the pain, there's ways to-"

"Why are you so obsessed with it?"

"I-" Wilson fidgeted in his seat, trying to think of an excuse.

"You're thinking about the surgery, too," House decided, earning a slow nod from Wilson.

He could work with this. "Yes."

"You know you're a horrible liar, right?"

"I'm not-"

"You'd never consider the surgery, you're too much of a sap for that. You'd rather die with your feelings than get rid of them."

"That's not-"

"You just want me to tell you why I want it."

"I want to know who," Wilson pleaded desperately. He was happy for House, of course. How could he not be? He never thought House was the type to truly love someone, yet here he was, quite literally lovesick.

"Get out of my office," he responded, earning a surprised look from Wilson. His blue eyes met the oncologist's brown, his sharp gaze burning into Wilson's.

"House…"

"Out."

Wilson looked like a kicked puppy, but he stood up, walking out of House's office without another word. He felt like a dog with its tail between its legs, making his way back to his office. Maybe he should just get the surgery. That would be easier than hopelessly yearning for a love that was never destined for him. Wilson shut his office door behind him after he entered, leaning heavily against the door. He slid down to the floor, his expression unreadable as he contemplated what to do next. He weighed his options, but was unable to draw any conclusion from them. House was right, he couldn't give up his feelings, no matter how much they ended up hurting him.

Almost a week had gone by since House and Wilson found out about each other's hanahaki, and neither of them had said a word to each other since House kicked Wilson out of his office. House was preparing for his surgery the following day, while Wilson was trying to build up the courage to talk to House.

Wilson sat in his office, gazing out the window at all the lush, green life that sprung up. He sighed, unable to enjoy the world around him, knowing that the man he loved would never return his feelings after tomorrow. He glanced over to his trash can, which was overflowing with bloodied primrose heads. A drop of blood dripped from one of the pale yellow plants onto the floor, the yellow flower taunting him. Yellow for jealousy, but primrose for everlasting love. How fitting for him. Wilson knew he had to talk to House before it was too late, but he didn't know what he would even say, or how to say it. But he had to try. He pushed himself up, brushing off his clothes and taking a deep breath. It was now or never.

House spun around in his chair, lost in thought. Bright blue flowers littered his office floor, as he hadn't bothered to throw them away. He moved a forget-me-not between his fingers, glaring at the small flower. He faulted the flowers for his pain, rather than his own stupidity, his own brain betraying him with emotions. He knew Wilson was the cause, but he would never blame the oncologist for his suffering. He tilted his head at the flower, his brow furrowing in thought. Memories and true love. That's what the flower represented. House wondered if that was true, if he would still remember his love for Wilson after the surgery. If he would remember Wilson at all. The door to his office swung open, revealing Wilson standing breathlessly in the doorway. House looked him up and down, surprised that he had come to see him.

"What do you want?" House demanded, pretending to be busy.

Wilson shifted uncomfortably in the doorway, taking a cautious step into the office and closing the door behind him. "Your, uh… your surgery is tomorrow," he stated somewhat awkwardly, advancing to House's desk and taking a seat. "I just.. wanted to check in."

“I’m fine,” House retorted, watching as Wilson scanned the floor in shock. “Or at least I will be, as soon as I get this taken care of.”

“And you- you’re sure about the surgery?” He asked, hoping the answer would be negative.

“You won’t change my mind.”

“I know, I’m just.. making sure. I’m thinking about getting it done, too…”

“No, you’re not.” House was mildly unnerved by Wilson’s expression and the seriousness in his voice. “You really are thinking about it?”

“There’s.. no point staying sick if you get your infection removed,” Wilson said quietly, not meeting House’s curious gaze.

“Why not? At least you still have a chance,” House scoffed, raising a brow at Wilson when he shook his head sadly.

“Not if you get the surgery.”

“What are you saying?” House knew damn well what Wilson was saying, but he needed to hear it for himself.

Wilson stood from his seat, taking a breath before gazing longingly into House’s eyes. “I love you,” he confessed softly, offering House a lopsided smile. He waited a moment for House’s reaction, but the diagnostician sat still. He let out a sigh, then turned to leave.

“You idiot!” House growled, pressing his palms to the edge of his desk, standing abruptly from his seat. He approached Wilson, the pain in his leg long-forgotten as adrenaline surged through his veins.

Wilson whipped his head back around, turning to face House with a nervous expression. “I- I didn’t- I couldn’t just.. tell you, I-”

House grabbed Wilson’s face in his hands, tilting his head and leaning forward, pulling Wilson’s face to his and smashing his lips against the oncologist’s. Wilson took a step back, momentarily thrown off balance by the force of House’s chapped lips colliding with his own. He recovered quickly, gripping House’s hips and roughly yanking them against his own as he kissed back. The feeling was almost overwhelming. Both of them had waited years for this moment, and neither of them wanted it to end. Almost immediately, Wilson felt the hanahaki releasing its hold on his lungs, as did House. When they reluctantly pulled away from each other, they could breathe clearly.

“Do you have any idea how many years I suffered waiting for you to say that?” House complained, earning a pointed glare from Wilson. He removed his hands from Wilson’s face, draping his arms over his shoulders instead.

“You could’ve said something, too. Don’t you dare pin this on me,” he responded, his hands not leaving House’s hips.

“You’re the one who always wants to talk about your feelings.”

“I hate you.”

“That’s not what you hanahaki says,” House quipped, causing Wilson to give a heavy sigh.

“Remind me why I’m in love with you, again?” He groaned, giving House a tired look.

The diagnostician responded by pressing another quick kiss to Wilson’s lips. House felt him smile into the kiss as he eagerly reciprocated, moving a hand up to grip his shirt and pulling him in closer. They pulled apart once more, Wilson giving House a fond smile.

"I'll tell them the surgery's off," House stated, resting his forehead against Wilson's.

Wilson's smile broadened as he wrapped the taller man in a hug. He felt House tense slightly, but it quickly melted away as he awkwardly returned the hug. Wilson buried his face into House's shoulder, taking in his scent. A ghost of a smile hinted at House's face as he tangled a hand in Wilson's thick, brunette hair. They remained in that position for a long while, their bodies pressed up against each other. After craving each other's love and touch for so many years, they weren't willing to part from each other. Maybe this wouldn't be such a long spring after all.

Tag list: @unseenuniverse @fearlessjones @submergedvampires @voidofprinciple @zarafey