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James Wilson is heartbroken as he walks through the front door of Gregory House’s apartment, his bag of leftovers in one hand and his keys in the other.
“Oh, God,” He groans and locks the door behind him before setting the food down on the coffee table. Unsurprisingly, House opens the bag, pulls out the box, and starts eating what’s left of Wilson’s steak, mashed potatoes, and brussel sprouts with the plastic fork the restaurant provided. “It was terrible.”
“Sounds optimistic. I just can’t wait to meet her,” House rolls his eyes and looks Wilson up and down as the oncologist sits next to him on the living room couch. “Where’s she at?”
“Not right now, House,” Wilson loosens his tie, leans his head back against the couch, and covers his face with his hands. He wants to scream, cry, and laugh all at the same time. “I’m really not in the mood.”
“What happened?”
“It went horribly. It was so bad, House, I don’t even know where to start,” Wilson complains and holds his head in his hands, thinking back to the date. He and this woman had mediocre chemistry at best to start with, but then they started having small talk and he brought up the fact that he was an oncologist and things took a turn for the worst. She broke down crying at the dinner table, vented to him about how her friends had pushed her to start dating again even though she still missed her dead husband after two years, talked about how evil pancreatic cancer was so loudly that it caught the attention of nearly everyone in the restaurant. “I told her I was an oncologist and she started talking about her ex who died of cancer. It ruined the whole date and she didn’t seem even remotely interested in going on another one, which I can’t blame her for. Not sure if I’m upset that the date went badly or if I’m upset that her utterly hopeless grief and sorrow just killed my mood for the next week.”
“Tough. Guess that comes with the profession,” House shrugs whilst finishing off Wilson’s food- probably forty dollars worth of leftovers from an expensive restaurant that he won’t eat at again any time soon. “That’s also what you get for looking in the newspaper catalogue for a date anyway. I mean, seriously? Who does that anymore?”
“Oh, shut up,” Wilson rolls his eyes. “Can’t believe the guy who hasn’t been on a date since disco died is really over here trying to lecture me about my dating life.”
“Hey, you can’t say that anymore- I went on that date with Cameron, remember?”
The reminder of the fact that House ever went on a date with Allison Cameron makes jealousy bubble up in Wilson’s chest, but he refuses to acknowledge it. He just shakes his head.
“No, no, you don’t get to use that against me,” The oncologist argues. “That doesn’t even count! You basically rejected her as soon as you two got there.”
There’s an awkward silence, which is only interrupted by House wiggling his eyebrows and asking;
“Is somebody jealous?”
“Jealous of Cameron? Of course not!” He exclaims, red in the face, but that only earns him a confused stare from the diagnostician.
“I meant jealous of me , but if that’s how you feel…” House chuckles, places a hand on Wilson’s thigh, and trails his digits up the clothed skin. It’s a joke, obviously- though the joke makes Wilson jump and let out a pathetic little squeak before he’s rushing to stand up and give House a harsh glare.
“You’re the worst! Imagine if I actually had feelings for you,” Wilson scolds.
“Do you?”
“Of course not,” He lies, and for a second, he sees hurt flash across House’s icy blue eyes before he thinks better of it. He’s had feelings for House for a couple years. When you’re so close to someone, when you learn everything about them, when you stay in their apartment, when you find them physically attractive… No matter the circumstances, feelings just come up sometimes, and that’s what’s happened to Wilson. Sometimes, the feelings are hardly there and don’t bother him at all. Recently, they’ve been pestering him nonstop, hence why he’s been trying to go on dates to find someone to distract himself with- it’s not like House is anything but straight, after all, so he doesn’t have a chance. That’s what he tells himself. “I’d never have feelings for you. I mean, me and you? Seriously? C’mon, I think that’d be worse than any of my three failed marriages, and that’s saying something.”
“Never, huh?” House says with a scoff, a smile, and a playful roll of his eyes- or, that’s what Wilson perceives it as. “It’s unlike you to be so harsh.”
“Harsh?” Wilson asks, the smile he was wearing dropping. He worries that his words might’ve been too much as he watches House stand up with his cane in one hand and the food trash in the other. “Don’t tell me I hurt your feelings.”
“Of course not,” House mutters and starts to walk off. “You were just being honest. We’ve always been honest with each other, haven’t we?”
And then, he’s gone, footsteps uncharacteristically fast as he speeds off to his bedroom.
Wilson stands there, baffled.
What a weird , awful night.
~
The next day, Wilson is exhausted as he rolls into work with his horrendous date and his equally as horrendous conversation with House about said date on his mind. He worries that what he said about never having feelings for House might have somehow offended the older man- hell, he wasn’t even there to greet Wilson this morning, apparently having gone to work on his own more than an hour early. House is chronically late most days, and he always rides with Wilson in his car, so the oncologist can’t help but be concerned that he might’ve gone too far…
Worrying his lower lip, Wilson unlocks the door to his office and opens it to see that the lights are already on.
“Huh… That’s weird. Could’ve sworn that I turned that off last night,” He murmurs to himself, shuts the door behind him, and sets his briefcase down beside his desk, only to look at said desk and see a beautiful bouquet of red roses sitting on top of the expensive wood- right next to a heart shaped box of chocolates. “Flowers…? For me?”
At first, Wilson doesn’t believe it. He blinks, looks, then blinks again. It can’t be real- no, it isn’t real. Convinced that he’s imagining the bouquet, he wraps his thick fingers around where the stems are tied together by a rubber band and covered in flower paper, picking them up. They’re very much real, and there’s an emerald green note card tucked between the sea of red petals. He quickly picks it up and reads the words, which are typed out.
‘I’ve loved you for a long time, but I can’t figure out how to tell you. Noticed that you were a little down and thought I’d get you something to express my- for lack of a better term- affections. I hope you like red roses, but if there’s something else you’d rather have, just write it down on this card and put it in the mail drop outside your office. ~ Anonymous’
Someone left him flowers and chocolate. Once he gets over the initial confusion, James feels so elated that he practically runs out of his office and into the halls of Princeton-Plainsboro Teaching Hospital with the flowers in one hand and the chocolates in the other. Regardless of the weird encounter they had the night before, he knows that the first person he has to show the anonymous gift is House.
To his relief, he doesn’t have to look too far. House is talking with a patient in the hallway, and when he sees Wilson, his eyes light up.
“Hey, Wilson!” House waves, calls him over, even.
So, he’s not mad. Thank God.
“House,” Wilson starts, a huge smile breaking out across his face. When he approaches House, the diagnostician subtly waves the patient away and focuses his attention on him. “You’ll never guess what happened.”
“What? Do you have another date or something?” House questions while switching between eyeing the red roses, eyeing the chocolates, and eyeing Wilson’s face.
“No, I got flowers! And candy!” Wilson cheers while holding the bouquet close to his chest. “And they- they came with a note. No idea who they’re from, but they wrote that they’ve been in love with me for a while…”
“They? You aren’t sure whether or not it’s a chick?”
“Listen, I swing both ways,” Wilson points out, and though House already knows that, a reminder never hurts. Part of him hopes the flowers are from House, but logically, they can’t be- it’s so unlike the older man to leave such a heartfelt gift with such a sweet note. He thinks of Cuddy, Cameron, Chase, and Foreman- those are the only hospital employees with direct access to his office aside from him and House. So, unless someone broke into his office to do this, he has a small list of suspects. “And it could be anyone!”
“You really have no idea who it is?”
“Well, no,” Wilson answers and crosses his arms over his chest. His smile shrinks as he wonders if he’ll ever figure out who it is, or if it’ll ever happen again.
“Good luck.”
“Thanks.”
With that, Wilson walks off, somewhat disappointed that the presents don’t seem to be from House. Out of the corner of his eye, he happens to see Cameron, who he walks up to immediately. With House off the list, his only suspects left are Foreman, Cuddy, Chase, and Cameron herself.
“Oh, Dr. Wilson, what’s up?” The other brunette offers that close-eyed smile that she usually gives.
Wilson pauses and looks at Cameron for a little too long. He likes her, he’s always liked her- she's kind, intelligent, and beautiful. She’s graceful and smooth in a way that Wilson has never been able to perfect, and she’s incredibly optimistic compared to him. She’s always trying to help people, always trying her best at everything, always trying to take everything on her shoulders. She’s desperate to fix everything around her that’s broken, and in a sad sort of way, Wilson suspects that’s what keeps her going.
He likes Cameron. But he doesn’t love Cameron. Then again, if she were to confess to sending the gifts and ask him on a date… He’d at least try. If not to give Cameron a chance, then to make House feel the same way he felt when the older man went on that date with Cameron a while back.
“Hey, Cameron,” Wilson greets and holds the flowers and the chocolates up, trying to seem nonchalant. “I just, uh, I found these in my office and I was wondering if you had any idea who they’re from? The diagnostics team and Cuddy are the only ones with keys to get in there, and I’d love to thank whoever it is, but they didn’t leave a name.”
“Huh… That’s interesting. I have no idea. Could be one of the janitors- don’t they have keys, too?”
“Oh, right… I guess that’s true,” Wilson frowns at the new list of suspects, though there’s only two janitors who are regularly on the same floor as his office- one who’s a much, much older woman and the other who’s a happily married middle aged man. Cameron seems relaxed yet just as confused as Wilson is, so he assumes it isn’t her and decides it’s time to get to work. “Let me know if you see or hear anything, alright?”
“Sure thing, Dr. Wilson.”
Heading back to his office, Wilson shakes his head and shoots House a text asking him to tag along to the apartment to grab a flower vase on their lunch break. He realizes he can figure out who his secret admirer is when he’s not at work.
~~
Despite his concerns that this new mystery may be consuming his work life, Wilson can’t help but go digging when, the very next day, he walks into his office to find an expensive looking watch and an emerald green tie- both brand new and in box- on his desk. He realizes that this is much more serious than he initially thought, as after looking up the cost of both combined, he sees that it’s more than his entire last paycheck. If not for the way he so desperately craves attention and affection, Wilson would be uncomfortable with the intense gesture.
With the tie around his neck and the watch on his wrist, the brunette goes to the cafeteria, where he knows he’ll find Chase and Foreman eating lunch together. Cameron is busy with a patient, while House is- based on the stethoscope hung on the door and the blinds blocking the view through the windows- watching porn on his work computer. He gets a simple lunch, a caesar salad with Italian dressing and no cheese. He’s not really hungry, but he feels weird being in the cafeteria without any food or even a drink, especially standing in the middle of the sea of booths and tables, clearly looking...
Low and behold, the neurologist and the intensivist are sitting across from each other at a two person table. Chase has a bright smile on his face as he excitedly rants about something, while Foreman listens and watches the blond with reserved intrigue. Wilson takes a deep breath before approaching.
“Hey, Chase, Foreman,” Wilson addresses the two men with a stiff smile and pulls up a third chair to the table to sit down.
“Oh, hey. It’s unusual not seeing you with House at this time of day,” Chase mutters while picking at the large brownie in front of him with a knife and fork. It’s a typical lunch for the man with a seemingly infinite metabolism and enough youth to keep from having his unhealthy habits result in any negative consequences. “Can I help you?”
“I’ve received some anonymous gifts in my office over the past couple days and I was wondering if you knew anything about them,” Wilson clarifies. He adjusts his watch, then pulls at the tie on his neck to tighten it a bit. “I asked Cameron already and she said she had no idea about it.”
“Hm, no idea,” Foreman answers. He raises a hand up to his chin as he sits there in thought, the hamburger and french fries in front of him momentarily abandoned in favor of Wilson’s mystery. “That’s weird. You don’t leave your door unlocked, do you?”
“Of course not!”
“Do you think you have a stalker?” Chase proposes and takes a drink of his chocolate milk. “Could ask Cuddy to check the hospital security cameras. Surely you’ll find your culprit there.”
“Well, I wouldn’t say a stalker… It seems like they have genuine feelings for me based on this note they left with the first gift,” Wilson’s words make both Chase and Foreman stare at him like he’s grown another head, so he stares down into his lap with reddened cheeks and ears. “It’s almost like we know each other.”
“That’s what they all say,” Foreman scoffs. His tone is scolding yet cynical- something that briefly reminds him of House, though he’d never say that out loud. “Then they end up on the news, murdered by some obsessive psycho. You’ve really gotta be more cautious about this sort of thing, Wilson- you’re too nice for your own good.”
Wilson thinks about Foreman. They would definitely make an odd match, but Wilson doesn’t think that a relationship between them would be too bad. Foreman is a lot like House- same sarcastic, dry humor- same intelligence- same weird, hidden compassion for other human beings that neither of them like to admit they have. The only difference is that Foreman is much more soft, much more subtle, and much more kind. He’s gorgeous, too, but he’s also direct enough to just approach someone he likes instead of going the route of anonymous- bordering creepy- gifts.
WIlson then thinks about Chase. Honestly, he probably wouldn’t go on a date with Chase- it’s clear that he’s smitten with both Cameron and Foreman, and while he’s intelligent, he’s very youthful and naive about himself and life in a way that the others aren’t. Then again, he doesn’t suspect Chase. At least, not really. The only reason Chase was on the list of suspects in the first place was because he has access to Wilsn’s office like the rest of the team.
“Yeah, I’m inclined to agree, but,” Chase pauses and runs a hand through his hair. “Why not ask House? He knows everything about everyone. I think he’ll have answers for you.”
“You’re right,” Wilson says, standing up. “I’ll go talk to him.”
Then, he’s walking to House’s office, his salad left forgotten and desolate on the table between Chase and Foreman. Eventually, he reaches House’s office and stares at the door. The blinds are still down, but the stethoscope is gone, so he assumes it’s safe to go in. He opens the door and looks at the diagnostician, who is passed out on his desk.
At first, Wilson debates whether or not he should pursue this, but then he remembers all the times House has woken him up for dumb shit since he’s moved in. He figures it won’t hurt and shuts the door behind him before approaching the older man and waking him up by gently shaking one of his shoulders.
“Huh?” House awakes, a groggy mess. He sits up and rubs the sleep out of his eyes while shooting Wilson the cutest glare. “The hell are you doing here? ‘m clearly trying to nap.”
“House, do you know something about the gifts I’ve been getting?” Wilson speaks and makes himself comfortable, sitting on the edge of House’s desk.
“You really woke me up for this? Ugh,” House groans. A second later, a light thud comes from the impact of his forehead against the desk he’s sat at. “Why would you assume that I know anything about this? We talked about it yesterday when it first happened and I didn’t know anything then.”
“I’ve been asking around and Chase suggested talking to you. I mean, you do know a lot about everyone in the hospital, even if you act like you don’t care,” Wilson points out.
House, in a rare display of concern, sits all the way up and looks at Wilson with worried blue eyes.
“Is it making you anxious?”
“Anxious? Oh, God, no,” Wilson laughs and runs a hand through his hair. He’s afraid that House will judge him for this- for his excitement, for his desperation, for his loneliness- but he continues regardless. “Honestly, I’m flattered. This is the most attention I’ve gotten in a long time, and I’ve gotten more presents in the last two days than I have in all three of my marriages combined. I just… I’m excited, and I really want to know who it is. If I can’t figure out who it is by tomorrow night, I’m going to go to Cuddy and ask her to check the hospital’s security cameras; pass it off as concern for my safety.”
“That’s a terrible idea,” House scoffs.
“You really think so?”
“Well, yeah, they’re probably remaining anonymous for a reason,” House raises a good argument, which makes Wilson stop. He hadn’t even thought about that, just assuming that whoever it is happens to be shy or afraid of him not reciprocating, but maybe they’re already in a committed relationship, maybe they’re not ready for a relationship. Hell, maybe it’s some sort of prank from House or someone else he works with. “And there’s the risk of them getting in trouble for getting into your office to do something so… Unprofessional.”
“I didn’t think about it like that,” Wilson murmurs and looks at the clock on the wall, which shows that his lunch break is almost over. “Guess you’re right. Thanks for the advice, House, I’ll see you later.”
~~~
At the end of his shift the following evening, Wilson finds himself sitting in the office of Lisa Cuddy. It’s the third day that he’s received presents on his desk without knowing who they’re from. Today, it was a new book he’s been wanting, some hard candies, a pen set, and a rose-scented candle.
“I’m at a loss. It’s been three days worth of these gifts and I have no idea who they’re from. I mean, seriously, I thought I was smarter than this,” He vents to the older woman, who he considers his closest friend aside from House.
The two are in her office, Lisa in her chair and Wilson on the edge of her desk. The box of chocolates he was given on the first day sat between them, mostly devoured. They’re House’s favorite brand of truffles, which has Wilson smiling at the thought. He eats the cherry ones between speaking because he knows they’re House’s favorite.
“You can’t blame yourself,” Lisa scolds him and stares at the ceiling. At this point, gossip has gotten around about the mysterious gifts. Some people suspect a young nurse that has a crush on him, some people suspect Cuddy, some people suspect Cameron, and even a couple people suspect House. Wilson has no idea at this point- all he can do is hope that it’s House. “It’s not your fault.”
“I know, I’m just frustrated. My soulmate could be waiting somewhere in this hospital for me and I can’t even figure out who they are! God, I feel like such an idiot.”
“Have you looked for any hidden messages in the gifts?”
“Hidden messages?” Wilson scratches his head. All of the gifts seemed pretty normal. Though there was the note with the first one, it wasn’t anything that struck him as particularly odd. . “I mean, the first one came with a letter, but it looked totally normal and… The gifts weren’t anything too terribly weird? Flowers, a watch, chocolates, this new book I’ve been wanting, hard candies, a nice pen set, a new tie- it was green, by the way, which is my favorite color.”
Wilson looks at Cuddy. He doubts it’s her, she’s woman enough to just tell him she wants a date if she wants a date, and she’s way out of his league physically, mentally, and emotionally. Really, she’s perfect. In theory, if it were her, Wilson wouldn’t mind, but he couldn’t imagine it going well; House would ruin it out of jealousy, though whether the diagnostician would be jealous of him or of Cuddy would be a complete and utter mystery.
“They probably know you if that and the book are anything to go off of,” The dean observes and pops a caramel truffle into her mouth.
Wilson stops and thinks about all of the gifts.
The roses and the chocolates, which happen to be House’s favorite brand.
The watch, given to him after he’d talked about needing a new one to House in passing just a couple weeks ago.
The book, bought for him after he raved about it being published by his favorite author with House in the room.
A nice pen set after his last good pen got stolen by one of the nurses.
Hard candies- vanilla, which are also House’s favorite.
The green tie just months after House accused him of dressing nice for someone just for wearing it.
And, finally, a rose-scented candle, which is the proverbial nail in the coffin.
“Wait,” Wilson stands up with a smile breaking across his face. “The last gift; it was a candle!”
“A candle,” Cuddy repeats and stares at the oncologist, her brows furrowing together.
“I didn’t even think about it at the time; hell, I should’ve known!” He practically yells and starts to excitedly pace around the room as memories come back to him. “The night after we met, when he bailed me out and had me stay in his hotel room for the rest of that medical convention, we ate at a restaurant with the exact same brand and scent of candle and a vase of red roses at the table; we try to go back to New Orleans to eat there at least once a year!”
“So-”
“I have to go!” Wilson rushes to grab his things and leave his friend’s office, her voice calling out behind him-
“Thanks for the chocolates, Dr. Wilson!”
~~~~
By the time Wilson gets home, he’s conjured up three theories of why House has left nice, romantic gifts in his office for the past three days.
- House is in love with him and has been for a very long time, but he doesn’t know how to express himself, so he’s resorted to this to get it out of his system before it boils over.
- House, in a rare display of compassion, decided to make Wilson feel better about his series of failed relationships and failed dates by leaving these gifts and pretending that they’re from some secret admirer he’s made up to satisfy Wilson’s need to feel wanted.
- House is pranking him.
Honestly, Wilson is inclined to go with number three on the list first. It’s a classic House prank- mean and fucked up and not funny at all, and it makes him want to file the older man’s cane down all over again. He finds himself storming into the apartment with his entire face red and his body hot with frustration. House is sat on the couch in a t-shirt and sweats, looking as beautiful as ever while watching a soap opera, which just pisses the oncologist off even more.
“It’s you!” Wilson shouts, standing between House and the television, pointing an accusatory finger at the older man.
“Hm?” House tilts his head and scoots over on the couch in an attempt to see past the brunette. Once he realizes that he’s not going to be able to watch the show in peace, he sighs and turns the television off. “What’s got you so worked up today? Another failed date?”
“It’s been you this entire time!”
“I have no idea what you’re talking about,” House plays stupid, because of course he does.
“You really think I wouldn’t remember the first night we met?” Wilson asks, his voice shaky and barely above a whisper. “That night means everything to me, you idiot! I remember every second of it- including the candle, the flowers… Hell, I even remember your favorite chocolates and hard candies! I remember everything there is to know about you!”
“You do?”
“Of course I do!” Wilson shouts and starts pacing, holding his head in his hands and staring at the ground. He can’t so much as look at House right now. “I can’t believe you- I was over here thinking I had a- a secret admirer , and you just let me! We go back to that restaurant at least once a year, how did I not know? The green tie after you commented on that other one, the roses, your favorite kind of chocolate, those vanilla hard candies that you like; God, I’m such an idiot!”
“Are you that bothered by it?” House stands from the couch and walks up to Wilson, lightly whacking him in the knee with his cane- a playful gesture that House has developed over the years, meant to measure just how mad Wilson is; when it’s bad, he bitches at House for it and walks away, and when it’s not that bad, he doesn’t react.
“Seriously? I’ve been lonely for months,” Wilson complains. His eyes meet House’s icy blue ones, and suddenly, he’s reminded of the fact that the older man is taller than him as he’s suddenly backed into a wall. Even with his leg being in constant pain, House still manages to tower over him with relative ease. “Haven’t been intimate with anyone for over a year, and you have the audacity to ask me if I’m bothered by it?”
“Are you?”
“Yes! I was excited about the prospect of someone decent actually liking me for once, okay!?”
“Well, damn, Wilson- you oughta know that I didn’t just do it for the sake of some sort of prank!”
Wilson freezes. House is in his face, breath reeking of cinnamon mints and Vicodin. Their eyes are locked. Warm, chocolate brown melts icy blue until House is looking down at Wilson’s lips with a heavy blush dusting his high cheekbones. Wilson can’t help how his expression turns to a pout, his brows furrowing. With House’s sudden exclamation, he starts to put together the pieces. This isn’t- it wasn’t… It’s not a joke. The gifts were genuine, but why? Pity? Love?
Whatever the reason, Wilson needs to hear it.
“Then why?” He demands.
“You seemed lonely, and I…” House hesitates, rests his cane against the wall, and rings his hands together. “I wanted to make you feel better about yourself and your situation.”
“So, what? You faked me all these romantic gifts that you didn’t even really mean for the sake of making me feel better?”
“Who said I didn’t mean it?”
Tension starts to build between the two. Wilson feels his impatience start to get the better of him, even more so when two calloused hands are resting on his shoulders and squeezing . It’s reassuring, but it’s nerve wracking, and it makes a nervous sweat start to gather at his hairline and at the back of his neck.
“Did you? Do you? Because I don’t think you understand the severity of just what you’re insinuating, House- hell, over a decade of friendship and-” Before he can finish his absolute reaming of House, the diagnostician is using his hold on Wilson’s shoulder to drag him in for a kiss. His eyes snap open to see that House’s are closed, and afraid that he’ll never get the opportunity to do this again, he kisses back. He kisses back hard, harder than House was initially, tasting cinnamon and mint and everything he’s fantasized about on his lonely nights spent crashing in House’s living room. Then, he processes just how ridiculous the situation is and pulls away, justifiably angry. “You just- you just kissed me!”
“Like I didn’t know that? No, you idiot, I thought I gave you a high five! Oh, did I kiss you? That was a total accident!” House sarcastically fumes and holds a hand over his chest.
Wilson mimics the action, only to stop seconds later so he can jab a finger right into the center of House’s narrow chest.
“You didn’t even ask- no wonder Cameron’s the only person that’s wanted to date you since disco died! You have no manners!”
“Oh, right, sorry,” House scoffs and rolls his eyes. “Can I kiss you?”
“I-” Wilson almost wants to say no- that’s what House should get after playing this game for three days straight- no, for playing this game for years on end. But he’s been waiting for this for too long and, so, he finds himself grabbing House by the collar and dragging him back in while whispering against his lips. “ Yes , you idiot.”
He isn’t sure who closes the gap- maybe it’s him, maybe it’s House- but their lips are touching again. It’s slow, gentle, and tender, the exact opposite of everything that’s led up to this. When House pulls away and looks at him with a confused expression, Wilson finds himself flustered.
“So, uh… You return the feelings, or…?”
“God, yes,” Wilson nods, wraps his arms around House before he can stop himself, and buries his face in the older man’s shoulder. House pauses like he’s unsure what to do, but after a few awkward moments, he manages to settle into the touch and hug Wilson back. “I’m so relieved it’s you and not, like, Chase or something.”
“You really had no idea?” House snarks and pulls back just far enough to give Wilson a teasing smirk. “You’re an idiot.”
“Well,” Wilson smiles back. “You’ll be happy to hear that I’m
your
idiot now.”