Author's Notes: Just thought I'd give this to all of my fabulously lovely readers as a little Thanksgiving treat! Happy reading and feed my soul with reviews!

The Date

House sat alone in his office having sent his fellows off to check on the patient, who was progressing to the point of discharge later that afternoon, and closed his eyes to remember. Last night, he and James had taken a shower together, a first for him, but definitely not a last. He could still feel the strong hands roaming his soapy body, so sensual, making his skin tingle. Every moment of the night, they'd spent close to each other, as if they'd been together for years yet still couldn't get enough of each other. They'd done the dishes together, eaten a slice of pie curled up on the couch while watching a show neither man paid any attention to and had gone to bed, spooning, needing as much contact as possible.

They'd woken this morning, James still wrapped in his arms, neither one wanting to leave their bed. After protest, they'd gotten up to have a simple breakfast James had insisted on making and had kissed before leaving the apartment like they were parting for days rather than just for the ride to work.

He would never tire of kissing his lover. His lips were so soft and perfect. They molded to his own like they were made for each other, parted on command, giving in to the deepening desire. When their tongues met, dancing with each other to their own rhythm, tasting and touching, it created a reaction deep in his soul.

He was lost in the memory of James' tongue flicking over his lips, gently teasing, when the sound of a clearing throat interrupted him. He opened on eye and smiled, finding James standing in front of him. "Hey."

Laughing, "You know, you suck at the whole separating work from personal thing."

Opening both eyes, acting as though he had no idea what the other man was talking about, "What?"

"What were you just thinking about?"

Finding no reason to hide, "Kissing you."

"I rest my case."

"It's not like I would have told anyone else."

In a disbelieving tone, "Yeah." Shaking his head. "Anyway. We have a problem."

With concern, he stood and walked toward the younger doctor, "What's wrong?"

"I just came from Human Resources. I had to update my files since I technically resigned and came back, even though I'm being reinstated."

"Get to the point."

Running a nervous hand over his face, "They want an address."

His heart slowed, his concern replaced with amusement. "So?"

"I live with you. I gave them my PO Box, but they want a physical address."

"Again…so?"

"You want me to give them your address?"

"We're talking about an HR flunky here. Do you really think she'll search out everyone else's files to see if it matches? Just give them the damn address."

Blowing out a sigh of relief, "Glad you said that. You know how I suck at lying."

"You already gave the address, didn't you?"

A blush rose to his cheeks, "What was I supposed to do?"

"You are such an idiot." He let a moment pass, then, "And I wouldn't have you any other way."

A wide smile formed on his face, "I told you that you sucked at this."

His face scrunched, "I really do, don't I?"

He turned and walked away saying over his shoulder, "Yeah, you really do."

Slightly pissed that the lab coat was hindering his view as he watched Wilson walk away, he shook himself back into reality and headed to the clinic. He'd spent several hours there before Cuddy stopped him in between patients. "My office."

He was just as shocked as she by his reply, "You'll have to give me a few minutes. I'm waiting on some test results for room 2 and I have one more patient to see." He walked away, cane in one hand, file in another and disappeared into a room, leaving Cuddy frozen in place.

What the hell was going on? Breaking her trance, she headed to her office, determined to take advantage of whatever had gotten into her misanthropic diagnostician. Nearly a half hour later, House ambled into her office and plopped into the chair across from her. "How many hours did you spend in the clinic today?"

Tilting his head, squinting his eyes, "Six, maybe?"

Matter-of-factly, "Seven."

Tapping his cane on the floor, "If you knew, then why'd you ask?"

"What the hell is up with you?"

Anger brewing, "Why are you on my case about actually doing my job?"

"I'm not. I just…are you doing this to get out of the dinner tomorrow night?"

Shit, he'd forgotten about the damn dinner. Pretending like he had no idea what his boss was talking about, "What dinner?"

"House! I told you about this months ago! And I've reminded you since! You are coming."

"No, I'm not."

Sternly, "Yes, you are. And find a date. Wilson and I will pick you up at seven."

His ears perked, "Wilson?"

She new that would reel him in; he might not want to go to the dinner but to spend time with his best friend he would come. He had been devastated for the weeks Wilson wouldn't talk to him. Other than herself, Wilson was House's only true friend; she wasn't even sure whether House considered her a friend. Honestly, she wasn't sure she cared.

"Yes, Wilson has agreed to accompany me. I asked him earlier today. So don't be a third wheel. Find a date. Black tie. If she's a hooker, buy her a dress and make sure she can talk. This is for $100,000 donation from a patient's family; a patient you saved! They want to meet you, to thank you…again."

A roll of his eyes followed. He might as well agree. Wilson would make him go anyway. "Fine." He hobbled out the way he'd come, wondering just who the hell he'd get to go to the lousy dinner with him. In the past, Cameron would have been the easy out. But now that she had Chase, her focus had moved from trying to fix House's sorry ass to getting laid on more than a daily basis.

He'd always gone to these things alone in the past. Why did it have to change this time? Damn Wilson! Why couldn't he have just said no, made up some excuse? He chuckled. Because Wilson didn't lie, couldn't even if he tried; the exception to House's ultimate rule that everyone lies.

He roughly pushed open the glass door to his office, finding his team gathered. Then suddenly it hit him. "Thirteen, can I see you in my office?" To the rest of his ducklings, "You can go. Have a nice weekend." Without argument, the men disappeared as Thirteen followed him into his office with her arms crossed over her chest. As if it were the most natural thing in the world, "Do you have any plans for tomorrow night?"

Not willing to make anything easy for him, "Why is that important?"

"There's a dinner tomorrow night. A donation to the hospital because I saved someone's life and the family is overly grateful."

"So?"

"So, I need a date." She raised an eyebrow. "Yeah, well, we'd be going with Wilson and Cuddy, so you could pretend you're going with her if that makes you feel better."

"Wow. This is really hard for you."

"Shut up." A few silent moments passed. "So, you in?"

"Well, I don't have any plans, and I would love to see Cuddy in a tight-fit slinky dress, so…sure."

"Great. We'll pick you up a little after seven. Black tie."

"Do I have to wear anything else?"

For the first time in his life, he admitted to himself that really couldn't care less. But out loud, "Not as far as I'm concerned. But Cuddy might be pretty pissed if you show more cleavage than her."

With a roll of her eyes, she left, saying over her shoulder, "See you tomorrow."

He watched her go, not at all turned on by the shake of her ass or the giggle that drifted behind her. Content with his decision, convinced that Thirteen would be the perfect distraction for Cuddy to leave him to spend more time with the man he actually wanted to spend time with, he left his office. Now he was ready to go home and give said man a hard time for not even warning him about the upcoming double date.

Twenty minutes later, acting as if nothing had happened, he meandered into the kitchen behind James, who was already busy cooking dinner. God, he could get used to this. Sweetly placing a kiss at the back of his partner's neck, "What's for dinner?"

His mind raced. Was there a possibility that Cuddy hadn't told him about the dinner? Swallowing hard, "Spaghetti. Hungry?"

Greg placed one hand on either side of James, trapping him between the heat from the stove and the warmth of his body. "Why are you nervous? Is something wrong with the spaghetti, or could it be that you're nervous about telling me about your date tomorrow night?"

He turned and began to nervously ramble, "I'm sorry, Greg. What was I supposed to do? It's not like I could tell her that I-" He was cut off by his lover's lips on his. "So you're not mad?"

"Mad that I have to spend our first Saturday night together at some stupid charity event? Yes. Mad because you didn't come warn me first? Yes. Mad because I get to see your sexy ass all dolled up? No. And mad at you? Definitely not."

Thinking that he was off the hook, he wrapped his arms around Greg's waist and leaned in for a kiss, only to be stopped by, "But…I do think you owe me a little something…ya know, for agreeing to go out on a date with someone else." James raised an eyebrow, intrigued by the sexy tone of Greg's voice. "I say that you take me into our bedroom and have your way with me."

Pretending that it mattered, even though both men knew there wasn't the slightest chance of it, "But I made spaghetti."

Already aroused and not caring one bit whether he'd made a complete Thanksgiving dinner, "And I can order a mean pizza." Turning, he walked toward the bedroom, leaving James to tend to fire hazards, dropping his clothes to the floor as he went. He was lying naked on their bed fully aroused when James walked in a mere few moments later.

All of his shyness disappearing, James slowly undressed, his eyes never leaving the swirling blue orbs filled with passion that could make him cum just by looking at him. With each piece of clothing, the burning in the pit of his stomach became more insistent for some form of contact. He stood naked in front of his lover, completely vulnerable, yet undeniably comfortable.

Breaking their eye contact, he let his eyes stroll down Greg's naked body, admiring his firm chest then the thin line of hair that led him to his twitching erection then to the scar on his right leg. He couldn't explain it, but something drove him to begin by placing his lips on the one imperfect spot on the body that drove him to insane peaks of pleasure.

He started there, first with lips then tongue, enjoying every inch of flesh from his leg, then up his hip, stomach and chest then finally his neck and ending poised above his lips. "You are so damn gorgeous." Greg's mouth opened to his, tongues seeking each other out, the older man's stubble scraping against the younger's sensitive skin. Smooth bare chests pressed together, Greg wrapped his strong arms around James, one hand drifting down to grab his ass.

James moaned into his lover's mouth, his body needing more. But it was Greg who spoke his desires out loud, "I want you."

Breathless, "You've got me."

His eyes were swirling with passion, a storm brewing within the ocean blues. "No. I mean…I want you."

"But we've…"

"Shh. I want to feel you inside me."

"I've never done this before."

"I…want…you. Make love to me, James." With hesitant moves, Greg pushed his lover away just enough to flip himself over. "KY and condoms…in the drawer of the nightstand." He held his breath while he waited, for the pain or the pleasure he wasn't sure. All he knew was that he needed this. It was about connection…and trust. It was about desire and need. It was about love. He exhaled with a groan as he felt one lubricated finger push into him, slowly moving in and out. His desire was heightening just as he felt another finger, stretching him, creating only the slightest pain. He was careful to not let the yell escape him, knowing he wanted more. When he felt the fingers slip away, James's hard erection pressed against him, he growled, "Take me."

With gentle, short thrusts, James pressed into his lover, holding firmly to his hips, watching as Greg's hands twisted into the pillows and sheets. With each push, he felt himself lose his self-control little by little. "Tell me. Tell me you still want this."

"I want you. Just do it." With one final thrust, his lover was buried deep inside him, his fingers digging into bony hips. Greg remained still, waiting for the pain to sink in and for the pleasure to overcome. It wasn't unbearable, nothing like he'd imagined, and nothing close to the pain he'd felt in his leg. The outcome would be worth the moment of discomfort.

Just as his body was easing, he felt James' hand encircle his arousal, stroking the pain from his mind. In response, he thrust his hips back, silently informing his partner that he was ready for more.

Hands back on his lover's hips, in slow, rhythmic thrusts, James pushed in and out, "You feel so damn good." His pace quickened, his breathing becoming deep and heavy. "God, Greg. It's so tight."

In between thrusts, Greg managed one word, "Yes!" His mind was trying to comprehend the pleasure that was building rapidly, leaving him light-headed and spinning with desire. Finding the rhythm with his partner, he quickened and deepened each thrust. He felt the release of his lover's orgasm just before he heard the shout of his name and let himself give in to the pleasure, exploding with fierce jolts, his body in near convulsions.

Neither man caring about the meal they'd missed, they decided instead to shower, fueled by the love from the other.