Yay, we're up and running again! :D You know the deal by now. I don't own House, just Anthony.

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House awoke once again to the sound of pans and dishes clattering in the kitchen as Anthony worked on dinner. Funny, he didn't remember falling asleep again. He pulled the covers around him, recreating the cocoon of comfort and warmth from earlier, taking a deep inhale of their combined scents as he closed his eyes again.

Eventually the smells from the kitchen beat out the warmth of the covers, and House threw them back to find his flannel pants, tugging them over his body and going in search of his t-shirt. He found it in the pile of clothes near the bed, chuckling as he noticed Anthony's shirt and jeans crumpled nearby.

He made his way down the hallway, foregoing his cane for the time being as he followed the smells coming out of the kitchen. Anthony was moving around the kitchen, listening to music and humming to himself as he put together the meal. House leaned against the doorframe of the hallway, watching him, fascinated by his precise, efficient movements. It was almost like watching a skilled surgeon at work, and it stirred up some unknown emotion in House.

House had observed others in the kitchen over the years. His mom, a model of calm and efficiency as she timed everything to be ready at precisely the moment his father walked in the door at night. Wilson, bringing his obsessive nature to the kitchen, poring over cookbooks, measuring, frowning, making sure whatever he was working on was perfect before unleashing it on House. Stacy...well, never mind. The woman was no expert in the kitchen, far better at dialing a phone than she was at working a stove. If House remembered correctly, most of the time he didn't really mind.

Which brought him to Anthony. The younger man seemed to genuinely enjoy the process of putting a meal together, relaxing as he chopped, stirred, and tasted, humming and singing along with whatever song was playing on his I-Pod. He brought joy and passion to the process, much like he did to other parts of his life.

House amended his earlier assessment of Anthony. It was less like watching a skilled surgeon and more like watching an artist create a new work of art, the entire creative process unfolding in front of him.

The artist in question suddenly looked up from the stove, arching an eyebrow at House. "It lives." Anthony teased. "How are you feeling?"

"Okay." House pushed himself away from the door frame and lumbered to the refrigerator, pulling out a beer for himself. "You want one of these?"

"Already working on one." Anthony took a pull from the beer on the counter before returning to stir the pan on the stove.

House chuckled as he limped up behind him, looking over Anthony's shoulder. "Drinking and cooking...should you be doing that?"

"I don't know, you tell me." Anthony suddenly turned around to put a spoonful of sauce in House's mouth.

House rolled it around in his mouth, savoring the flavor before finally swallowing. "As you were."

"That's what I thought." Anthony looked smug as he turned back toward the stove. Whatever he was going to say next was interrupted by the ringing of the cordless phone next to him. He tucked it between his ear and shoulder as he answered it. "Hello?" His face took on a resigned expression. "Hi, Mom."

House smirked, leaning against the counter, listening to Anthony's end of the conversation. His voice took on an overly patient tone as they chatted, and Anthony seemed to get a little more flustered as the conversation continued. Finally he turned around, motioning to House for plates and silverware.

"Yes, Mom, I know." Anthony looked exasperated at whatever his mother was going on about. "Gotta go now. I've got company for dinner." He glanced over at House as he set the plates and silverware on the counter with a clatter. "No, someone new. Met him a couple weeks ago." His lips quirked up in amusement. "I don't know, Mom. Too soon to tell. Anyway, really. I've got to go. I'm literally about to burn dinner...Okay, love you too. Bye."

Anthony shook his head as he pushed the button to hang up the phone, shutting off the stove. He could feel House's eyes on him, the bright blue eyes studying him as he grabbed a plate and a fork from the counter. "Look, I know you're dying to say something. Spit it out already."

"Nope." House took his own plate, dishing up pasta and sauce, picking up his beer and limping out to the living room. Anthony followed close behind, veering off to the large window just off the living room. "Whoa, where are you going?"

Anthony shrugged. "Thought we'd eat out on the balcony. Might as well enjoy the weather while we have it."

House was puzzled, but followed Anthony outside anyway. The sun was setting as they settled into the deck chairs, silverware clinking on plates and the occasional car passing by the only sounds.

In the growing twilight, House could hear Anthony set his plate aside with a sigh. There was a click and a brief flash of flame, followed by the acrid smell of cigarette smoke. House turned his head to see Anthony leaned back in his chair, the end of the cigarette glowing as he took a long drag, tilting his chin upwards as he exhaled the long stream of smoke into the cool evening air.

"You know how you accused me of not doing commitment?" Anthony suddenly asked.

"Uh, yeah." House rolled his eyes and set his plate on top of Anthony's. "You damn near took my head off for it."

"Anyway." Anthony glared at House as he flicked the ash off his cigarette. "My mom...every time I tell her about some new guy, it's the same line." He made a face clearly meant to mimic his mother. "'So...is this the one?'" Anthony shook his head as he took another long drag. "I swear, you bust out that line one time, and it gets used against you forever. And before you ask, no, it wasn't Drew."

"Wasn't even thinking that." House mumbled as he took a long pull of his beer. He hated that Anthony seemed to be able to read him so well.

Anthony fixed him with a skeptical look. "Yeah...anyway. My brother's been married and divorced a couple of times, my sister's been married to this pathetic idiot forever, and my mom...tolerated my father. And my mom still wonders why the hell I'm in no hurry to settle down."

House snorted softly. "She's aware that you're not going to find some nice girl, right?"

"Oh, yeah." Anthony rolled his eyes. "But you know moms. She just wants me to be 'happy'. Apparently I can only do that with a 'partner' of the live-in variety."

"Have to admit, it is kind of odd that you haven't by now." House observed.

"Why?" Anthony countered. "You haven't either."

"Yeah, but I have a million good reasons." House replied. "I'm a cranky, misanthropic old bastard who pushes anyone and everyone away. At least, that's what the shrinks tell me." He drained his beer before continuing. "You're young...er, better looking, and you actually like other people. What's your problem?"

Anthony stubbed out his cigarette with a long sigh. "I'm a selfish bastard, my mother spoiled me, and I'll never be happy until I get everything my way."

House tilted his head, closing one eye. "That sounds very...fatherly."

"Doesn't it?" Anthony polished off the last of his beer and set it on the table next to him, taking another cigarette out of his pack and glancing at House. "Sounds like something you know about."

"Nice try, Slick." House snorted, rising from the chair and limping inside.

Dammit. Anthony thought as he put the cigarette back in the pack and rose to follow House inside. House was back in the kitchen, leaning against the counter as he popped the cap off another beer. A storm was brewing in those blue eyes, and Anthony carefully leaned on the counter that separated the kitchen and living room, not sure what to say next.

House took a long drink of his beer before setting it on the counter beside him, picking up the cap and fiddling with it. Finally the storm seemed to pass, and he puffed his cheeks out, looking thoughtful before breaking the silence. "I've already got a shrink. I don't need one in my bed." He tilted his head, pondering his statement. "Well...technically your bed, but you get the idea."

Anthony twisted his fingers and glanced down at his hands. "I wasn't trying to analyze you. The conversation just seemed to be going that way."

House huffed in irritation and crossed the kitchen to lean across the counter that separated him and Anthony. "Believe it or not, I've told you a hell of a lot more than I've told most people. But the dad thing..." House looked away, shaking his head. "Not going to happen."

"Fair enough." Anthony reached across the counter, offering his hand. House gave him a slightly distrustful look, but reluctantly took Anthony's outstretched hand. "Guess I'll keep my family issues to myself from now on."

"You don't have to do that." House grumbled. "Just because I don't want to talk about this stuff doesn't mean you can't." He lightly stroked the back of Anthony's hand, a slightly amused expression crossing his face. "Although...I make kind of a crappy confidant."

"Maybe I don't need a confidant." Anthony countered. "Maybe I just needed someone to vent to just then." He lifted House's hand to his mouth, leaving a gentle kiss in the palm. "It's still early. Got time for another beer and some more balcony time if you want it."

"Already have the beer." House withdrew his hand and rounded the counter on his way outside, lightly smacking Anthony on the rear as he passed by.

Anthony jumped in surprise, then shook his head as he grabbed another beer for himself. This evening wasn't going anything like he'd planned. He was quickly learning that nothing went as planned when he was spending time with House. It definitely kept things interesting, mostly in a good way. The rest of it, he'd just learn to roll with. There was nothing else he could do.

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House was lost in thought out on the balcony when he heard the door slide open and felt something soft and heavy drop in his lap. He turned his head to see Anthony pulling a gray hooded sweatshirt over his head before he eased himself into the chair next to him. House couldn't help but notice his cane leaning against the chair. Anthony must have brought it with him when he brought out the sweatshirt.

He picked up the object in his lap, recognizing the heavy black hooded sweatshirt from the previous weekend. As he pulled it over his head, House took in the familiar scents, and by the time he had it on, a small smile had found its way onto his face. Wearing the sweatshirt was oddly comforting, almost like...no, he wasn't going to go there. That would be too sentimental, and that wasn't House's thing.

Still...sitting out here on the balcony, the night surrounding them with nothing but the occasional car passing by...it all felt so oddly right. Even the silence seemed comfortable instead of lonely. House had spent so many years alone that he was sure he was used to the silence that accompanied it.

And he was used to it. That didn't mean it was a good thing. What was happening now, on the other hand...he liked it, even as he had difficulty getting used to it. House didn't want to get too comfortable. He knew all too well that it could all disappear in a heartbeat. One wrong word, one wrong move, and he would be right back where he started.

He couldn't let that happen. Anthony had already become too damned important to him. He let out a rough sigh, glancing over at Anthony. The younger man was stretched out in the chair, sipping at his beer with his long legs stretched out in front of him, looking completely relaxed.

Anthony turned his head at the sound, noticing House slumped down in the other chair. His arms seemed to be wrapped around himself, almost as if he were trying to close himself off from the world.

Anthony decided to go for the direct approach. He rose from the chair and moved to bend down in front of House, landing on one knee while resting his forearms across House's knees, looking him directly in the eye.

House was startled at first, then fixed Anthony with a small smirk. "I like where this is going already."

"Don't deflect." Anthony responded quietly, with a small smile at House's joking comment. "Just...talk to me. What's going on?"

"Just thinking." House shrugged. He was silent for a long moment, the light from the streetlamps highlighting his brooding expression. It was obvious to Anthony that House was struggling with something, and it would only be a matter of time before it finally came out.

Anthony turned around, sitting on the cool floor of the balcony and leaning against the chair between House's legs. He hooked one arm around House's calf, placing his hand on his shin, and the two men continued to sit in silence.

House shifted with a long sigh, unfolding himself to drop his arms over Anthony's chest to wrap around him, all but burying his face in the space between Anthony's shoulder and neck. He was convinced that he would have stayed in his self-imposed shell were it not for Anthony's touch. It was more powerful than any words the younger man could have spoken.

"You know about my track record with guys, right?" House started.

Anthony nodded, recalling the conversation. "I assume there's more to this."

"My track record with women isn't much better."

"What's your point?" Anthony turned his head, his lips nearly touching House's cheek.

"I just don't want to fuck this up." House's voice came out rough.

"That makes two of us."

"I'm serious." House's tone turned sharp, almost angry.

"So am I." Anthony reached up to caress House's face, lightly pressing his lips to his cheek.

"You don't get it." House murmured, closing his eyes at the feel of Anthony's fingers and lips on his face. His old walls were crumbling faster than he could put up new ones, and he could feel himself losing the fight to keep those walls intact. He wasn't even sure it was worth the fight anymore.

"Maybe I do." Anthony turned slightly so that he faced House, and House shifted so he sat back in the chair once again. "You know what I was really doing in that bar the night we met?"

"Besides trying to pick me up?"

"Yes, besides that." Anthony chuckled softly, draping himself across House's leg. "Drew had stopped by out of the blue. That never happened. We always had to plan pretty extensively on account of the wife." His voice went soft at the memory. "He didn't even come in. Just told me we were done, that he was recommitting himself to his marriage. After he left...I was...pissed, hurt, all that."

"So you decided to wander down to the bar and hit on the first thing that caught your eye?" House's voice turned sarcastic.

"Lucky for you, don't you think?" Anthony snapped back before taking a deep breath. "Sorry, but...damn, Greg. You don't think you're worthy of attention?"

House froze. How the hell had Anthony managed to turn this back around on him? "What the hell did I tell you about analyzing me?"

"I'm not." Anthony turned so that he directly faced House, still on his knees in front of him. They were hurting from pressing into the concrete of the balcony, but Anthony didn't give a damn. He was determined to get whatever point he was trying to make across to House. "Yes, aside from the bartender, yours was the first face I saw. You seemed like...you were having a tough time, too."

"And what would you have done if I hadn't...responded?" House nearly whispered.

"I don't know." Anthony's voice dropped in volume to match House's as he moved closer, their lips now nearly touching. "Glad I didn't have to find out."

"So...you just hit on me because you were pissed at Drew?" House couldn't quite get around that part of the story.

"Goddammit, Greg!" Anthony was getting increasingly frustrated with House as he pushed himself away and sprang to his feet, pacing around the small balcony. "Maybe I did, initially. I don't know. Why does it matter? It doesn't change how I feel about you now."

House huffed and slumped down in the chair. Maybe Anthony was right. Maybe it didn't matter how things started. Maybe the only thing that mattered was now.

He finally pushed himself out of the chair, limping over to catch Anthony mid-pace, easily trapping the younger man between himself and the railing. "Maybe...I'm being a little rough on you."

Anthony stopped his pacing, closing his eyes as he felt House's lips touch his neck. He reached out to grasp the railing. "It wasn't just because of Drew, you know."

"It doesn't matter."

"It matters to you, which means it does matter." Anthony turned around and wrapped his arms around House's waist.

The words stirred up some unknown emotion in House. It was something that was happening more and more around Anthony. "No one's ever told me that before." He choked out as he nearly crushed Anthony in his arms, a shaky breath escaping him.

Anthony merely held him tighter, lightly rubbing the older man's lower back. "Maybe it's time someone did."

"Maybe." House muttered, a shiver running through him. Whether it was the cooling night air or Anthony's touch, House wasn't sure. "So...we're okay?"

"Of course." Anthony was puzzled. "Why wouldn't we be?"

"Don't know." House cursed himself for his fit of insecurity.

Anthony smiled a little to himself, stepping back and rubbing House's arms. "Look, you're a little temperamental, and I'm a little touchy. We're going to blow up at each other sometimes. It's hardly the end of the world." He squeezed House's arms affectionately. "And it doesn't mean I'm going to abandon you."

"Yeah...that's what she said, too...just before she left." House sighed roughly, turning away. He picked up his beer and his cane and started to slide open the balcony door.

Anthony leaned against the railing, watching him for a moment before sighing sadly, picking up the cigarette pack on the table, pulling one out and lighting up. He took a long drag, exhaling loudly before taking a long drink of his beer.

He stubbed out the cigarette and strode into the apartment, looking around for House. House's backpack, jacket, and shoes were still near the door where he had dumped them earlier, so Anthony knew he hadn't left.

It was a small apartment, so it wasn't as if there were that many places to hide. Anthony locked the door and turned out lights as he shut down the place for the night. He made his way into the bedroom, turning on the light, noting the House-sized lump that was curled up in his bed.

Anthony turned out the light and curled up behind House, taking in the older man's scent. House immediately tensed and scooted away, curling himself into an even tighter ball. "Back off, boy." He growled, a rough mix of anger and some other emotion that Anthony couldn't identify.

"Not happening." Anthony firmly held on to House. "You try to scoot much further and you'll fall right out of this bed."

"Then I'll sleep on the damn floor."

"Oh stop it." Anthony refused to relinquish his hold on House. "If you're trying to push me away, you're doing a really crappy job of it."

Anthony could feel House's body shake next to him as he tried to hold back whatever was coming out. He relaxed his grip on House, scooting away just enough to rub the older man between his shoulder blades as he waited for him to calm down.

House sighed heavily, finally rolling over to face Anthony, grateful for the darkness that hid the evidence of his emotional outburst. "Stubborn ass." He grumbled as he laid his head on Anthony's chest, wrapping an arm around his waist.

"Have to be to keep up with you." Anthony laughed softly as he stroked House's head. "And feel free to quit testing me. I don't plan on going anywhere."

"Well no, of course not." House snarked. "You live here, remember?"

"Not what I meant and you know it." Anthony planted a gentle kiss on the top of House's head.

House was quiet for a long moment, shifting so that he lay alongside Anthony, staring down at him, lightly stroking the younger man's face. "You know...this could all end tomorrow, and I'll be right back where I started."

"And where would that be?" Anthony almost wished he hadn't asked, not sure what sort of reaction he would get from House.

The older man lay his head back on Anthony's chest, oddly soothed by the sound of his even breathing and steady heartbeat. "Alone. Lonely. Fucking miserable."

"You wouldn't be the only one." Anthony answered softly, pulling House closer to him.

House was baffled. "Seriously?"

"You sound surprised." Anthony chuckled a little. "Of course I'm serious. You didn't think this was all one-sided, did you?"

"Maybe."

Anthony shifted slightly, trying to make out House's face in the darkness. "You are a mess. A fascinating, beautiful, passionate, infinitely interesting mess."

He thought he saw House's mouth form something like a smile. "Was there a compliment in there somewhere? I might have missed it."

Anthony pushed House over to his back, nearly crushing his lips with a raging, passionate kiss. House slipped his hands to Anthony's back, pulling him in, not wanting to let him go. They finally broke apart, and Anthony regarded the older man with amusement. "Did you catch the compliment that time?"

"Hmmm...not sure." House responded softly. "It's an idea that warrants further...exploration, don't you think?"

"Why not?" Anthony chuckled, moving in for another kiss. For now, at least, they seemed to have made some sort of breakthrough. How long it would last, neither of them knew. Right now, neither of them cared.

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You know what time it is. It's read and review time! :)