SUMMARY: everyone thinks House and the sweet, gentle doctor hate each other—but behind closed doors, they’re far more than colleagues. when Wilson accidentally catches them in a heated moment, the secret they’ve been hiding threatens to unravel.
WORD COUNT: 1,116 words
PAIRING: greg house x reader
WARNINGS: a little heated moment but nothing too bad.
The corridor buzzed with the low hum of activity—nurses ferrying charts, pagers beeping intermittently, and hushed discussions about patient vitals. Amid it all, one thing remained a constant: Gregory House limping through the hallway like a tornado in tweed, cane tapping rhythmically, sarcasm trailing in his wake.
This morning was no exception.
“Foreman, try not to kill the patient with your god complex before I get a proper look at his scan,” House barked, brushing past his team without so much as slowing down.
“Good morning to you too,” murmured the woman trailing behind them, her voice soft enough to be overlooked—but with a hint of dry amusement that rarely went unnoticed by House.
She was the anomaly of the hospital. The type of doctor who remembered birthdays, lent pens, and somehow always had a stash of calming tea in her drawer. To patients and colleagues alike, she was the kind face of Princeton-Plainsboro—except, of course, to House, who made a daily ritual of riling her up with snide remarks and questionable nicknames.
“She’s got the bedside manner of a fairy godmother and the IQ of a well-trained golden retriever,” he’d said once. Loudly. In front of Cuddy.
She’d smiled sweetly and replied, “You’re just mad I’ve never let you borrow a pen.”
What no one knew—what absolutely no one could guess—was that behind the sarcasm, the sideways glances, the deliberately loud arguments… House was very much involved with her.
Behind closed doors.
And she, for all her angelic exterior, could match him wit for wit when no one was around to witness it.
It had started six months ago. A late-night consult, an empty hallway, and an unexpected kiss that left them both stunned and more than a little breathless.
Since then, they’d perfected the art of secrecy. The stolen moments in diagnostics. The lingering touches disguised as accidental. The occasional post-lunch escape to House’s office under the guise of “arguing about lab results”.
To the rest of the hospital, especially Wilson, their dynamic was obvious: House was being House, and she, poor thing, was just the latest target of his relentless teasing.
Wilson had once even said, “Honestly, mate, I don’t know how she hasn’t stabbed you with a scalpel by now.”
House had only shrugged and replied, “Maybe she’s saving it for Christmas.”
It was Tuesday afternoon when Wilson started to suspect something wasn’t quite right.
He’d passed House’s office and caught the tail end of laughter—her laughter, rich and warm, the kind no one else at the hospital ever seemed to coax out of her. Curious, Wilson lingered near the door. The blinds were drawn, but he could hear movement. A low chuckle. Muffled voices.
And then silence.
Frowning, he knocked.
“House?” he called out.
No response.
He tried the door.
It was unlocked.
The scene that greeted him upon entry froze him mid-step.
House, jacket discarded and shirt rumpled, sat on the edge of his desk, locked in a very enthusiastic embrace with the very doctor Wilson had been certain loathed him. Her hands were tangled in House’s hair, his cane discarded somewhere near the filing cabinet, and their lips—
“Oh, God,” Wilson muttered, instantly averting his gaze and turning on his heel. “I—Nope. I did not see that. I did not see that.”
House, entirely unbothered, detached his mouth long enough to smirk, “Your timing is impeccable, as always.”
She, however, buried her face in House’s shoulder and let out an embarrassed groan. “We’re going to have to kill him, aren’t we?”
“Tempting,” House murmured, dropping a kiss to her forehead. “But I need him to cover for clinic duty.”
Later that evening, after the drama had settled and the blinds were open once more, Wilson sat across from House, arms folded.
“You’ve been sleeping with her?”
House leaned back, tossing a rubber ball against the wall. “Only in the literal sense about fifty percent of the time.”
“Does she know you’re emotionally stunted?”
“Shockingly, yes. Turns out sarcasm and emotional repression are her love languages.”
Wilson scrubbed a hand over his face. “I genuinely thought you hated each other.”
“Technically we do,” House replied, ever smug. “But we hate everyone else more. It’s romantic.”
The next day, whispers trickled through the hospital. Nothing concrete, just vague observations. The way House had taken his coffee from her hand without comment. The way she’d rolled her eyes, but not with annoyance—with familiarity.
Someone even claimed they’d seen her leaving his office with a tie in her hand.
Of course, nothing was confirmed. Nothing could be.
House still insulted her in front of patients.
She still told him to sod off when he pushed her buttons in diagnostics.
But if you looked closely—really closely—you’d catch the smallest things.
The way her eyes lingered a moment too long.
The way his smirk softened when he thought no one was watching.
And the way she always knocked twice before entering his office.
Even though it was never locked.
A/N: I guys i hope you like this one!! I actually had it in my drafts and just didin't post it. This is a little different for what I usually write but i still hope people from other fandoms like it!!
Saw deftones for the first time in my life yesterday, was peak, everyone smoking was dope omg i loved smoking at a concert and chino was so good i also almost touched him crying sm
First metal concert ever and knocked loose was FANTASTIC i didn't even know who the fuck they were BUT Y'ALL NEEDA LISTEN TO THEM THEY'RE DOPE OMFG
not really a shop actually but if you use ae and you're one of those people that buy cc give a look on my patreon
https://www.patreon.com/c/anagvpesiss
it would mean a lot 'cause i need money so i stop being a burden on my parents ty <33
