Author's Notes: Okay, so I am SO sorry for the delay! My laptop CRASHED and I JUST got it back today. I hope this isn't poorly written since I typed it up quick so I could post. My brain was going crazy with new ideas! I'm thinking I'll have another chapter up before Christmas! Enjoy!

Thirteen

Monday came, after a weekend filled with the most gratifying sex they'd ever had. House had avoided Cuddy all day, mostly successfully. But Thirteen on the other hand, had been on his ass all day. He'd assigned her menial tasks, just to get her out of his face, each of which she'd accepted without argument. That would have surprised him had he not known she was in search of answers, and details to go along with them.

He ducked into his office as he saw her returning from her last task, his clinic duty. But the glass walls didn't hide him and she wasted no time digging right back in. She flung the door open and flopped down in the chair across from him. "So, are you guys sleeping together yet or just testing the waters?"

"Wouldn't you like to know?"

"So you are dating." It hadn't been a question, but rather a statement.

Tossing his oversized tennis ball into the air, "I never said that."

"Didn't have to. I just asked if you were sleeping together or still testing the waters. Instead of denying any relationship, you just joked about the status of it. That tells me that you are in a relationship. So are you having sex?"

Damn, she'd beat him at his own game. How had he not seen this one coming? He and James had talked forever about what to do about Cuddy. Neither one had even mentioned Thirteen. How had this gone unnoticed? He was loosing his touch in his old age. Frustrated, "Don't we have a patient you can look after?"

"This is more interesting. Besides, there are three other people on our team. There are only so many people needed to do blood tests. So is the sex fantastic?"

Wilson entered the room, replying himself, "What sex?"

Not hiding her line of questioning, "The sex you and House are having."

Having more than enough experience with House to fall for the oldest trick in the book, "Who said we were having sex?"

"No one yet, that's my problem."

Crossing his arms, simultaneously tucking a patient file under his arm, "So it's a problem for you if House and I aren't having sex?"

She stood, an attempt to simulate power. "It's a problem for me if House thinks it's okay to tell everyone that I'm bisexual, but is having sex with you and not admitting it."

"So this is about House."

"Yes."

"Good. Then leave me out of it."

House finally spoke. "Well played, Wilson." Then to Thirteen, "Now get the hell outta here."

She sauntered off after a look that said she'd be back and she wasn't giving up. Once she was out of earshot Wilson asked, "How long has that been going on?"

With a frustrated sigh, he tossed the ball onto the table. "All day."

"Wow! Never saw that coming."

"Me neither! How is that possible?"

Ignoring the question posed to him, "What are you gonna do? Doesn't seem like she's gonna give up any time soon."

He rubbed his forehead. "I don't know."

Taking a bottle from his pocket, he shook the pills and set it on the desk in front of House. "Anyway, I stopped by to give you this. I filled it earlier."

With a raised eyebrow, "You filled my Vicodin without my asking?"

"It's been awhile. Thought you needed it. Your stash must be just about gone." The decision to enable Greg had haunted him, wrenched his soul, and tortured him. But he'd finally come to terms with it, deciding it better to have a handle on the situation rather than having his boyfriend scoring drugs from the most convenient source.

Greg's brain was moving so fast, he couldn't figure out what to say. Truthfully, he'd cut back on his pain pills since their relationship had started. No one had noticed; no one but himself. It had been hard enough to admit to himself that everyone else had been more right than he wanted them to know. He truly was an addict. Yes, his leg hurt. His leg hurt more than most human beings could probably bear on a day-to-day basis. But he'd become used to the pain, it was nearly bearable with the normal regimen of pain medication; no overdosing necessary.

The extra pills were to help him forget, forget his miserable, lonely life, his desire for love, and his hidden need for someone to accept him. But now he didn't need to forget. That part of his life was over; and so was his need for the extra pills.

He looked at James across his desk and found himself unable to lie. He had a million sarcastic quips about it 'being about damn time' or that 'damn right he needed them' but no words formed at his mouth. His eyes moved from the amber bottle to the chocolate eyes and suddenly his mind found a retort. "You're an idiot." Any way you looked at it, it fit.

With a roll of his eyes, "I'm gonna need an extra half hour or so tonight. Do you want to wait for me or just head home and I'll catch a cab?"

"I'll wait. If I go home first, you might expect me to make dinner or something crazy like that!"

Holding his hands up, as if surrendering, "I would never!"

Later that evening, House was seated in his office, actually doing his paperwork again, while he waited for Wilson to finish up for the night, when Thirteen sauntered into his office again. After muttering a 'damn' under his breath, "If you aren't here about our patient, you can just turn around and go!"

"Even if I was, I would normally need to call your cell or page you at this time of night. Any particular reason why you're still here?" When he didn't look up from his paperwork, "It wouldn't have anything to do with the fact that Dr. Wilson is still here, would it?" He still ignored her. "What I don't understand is if you are having sex, and it's not lousy, why would you deny it? I mean, there are a lot of people who hate you now and you don't care. Why would you care if a few more people hate you if they find out you're shacking up with a guy?"

A voice from the doorway finally stopped her endless ramble. "We're not shacking up." Wilson then turned to House, "Ready for dinner?"

Thirteen stood and walked towards him, arms crossed over her stomach, "Hot date?"

"We're best friends. We have dinner all the time."

She smirked at him, "Hot sex afterwards?"

House came from behind her, brushing past her shoulder, not even trying to avoid her, "Wouldn't you like to know?" He nodded to Wilson, who followed right behind him.

They were halfway down the hall before they heard the shout, "I'm gonna find out ya know!"

Once inside the safety of their apartment, James finally said, "You might as well tell her. She's just going to annoy you until you tell her."

"Screw her."

"I'd rather you didn't."

"Lucky for you, she just wants me to screw you, and then let her know that I did."

James walked into the kitchen, rolling up his sleeves, "What's wrong with that?"

Following him, stopping in the doorway, "Do my ears forsake me? Isn't this the man who didn't want to dance with me a few nights ago?"

Setting food onto the counter, "No, it's the man who was willing to dance with you the other night."

"So that's it?"

"What's it?"

"Now you just don't care who knows? You're just ready for the world to know?"

"Well, maybe not the world, but I'm ready to not sneak around anymore. I'm not saying we need to put it on a bulletin board or anything. I'm just saying…let's stop lying."

"Everybody lies."

"But not about everything."

"True." He walked out of the room, leaving James to tend to dinner while he went to the piano to decompress. With each key, came a note; with each note came a thought.

His life was changing. He was changing. Once, he had been a miserable old miser; a misanthrope. Now, he was still old; his bones, aching muscles and the wrinkles on his forehead told him so. But he was happy. Happiness, a feeling that he'd felt only in sparse amounts over the span of his near fifty years, had now somehow filled the ever-present void in his soul. For some, this was an accomplishment, a reason to celebrate. But for him it evoked an entirely different emotion; fear.

Fear was an emotion he was quite used to. He was afraid that any day might be the last day he was able to walk. He feared that the next time he pushed her, Cuddy would fire him, no matter how many times she said she wouldn't. He was afraid of not being able to figure out the next case. He was afraid that any moment James would walk away and never look back. Of all these things, though, the last was what he feared the most.

Over the past few weeks, he had come to understand that the single most important thing, inanimate or otherwise, in his life was James. He needed him. So every choice he made had to be thought out critically. If he decided that he didn't want anyone else to know about their relationship, James would think he was ashamed of him, which he wasn't. His reason wasn't out of shame, it was to protect the last bit of privacy he still had.

Most people knew details of his life; it was nearly an open book. Everyone knew about Stacy, about his leg, about him being shot, about the Vicodin and his addiction to it. Everyone knew his need for complicated cases and the desire to solve the puzzle. Everyone knew he was the crippled ass of a doctor who pushed the limits of every single thing he did in life. But this, his relationship with James, was his one hidden piece of his life. The one thing he didn't have to share.

He heard the footsteps behind him before he felt the hands on his shoulders. His fingers continued to move over the ivory keys as James asked, "Beautiful; what is it?"

Pushing out a deep breath, "Thoughts."

"About?"

"Sharing."

Most people could not follow the cryptic conversation, but he had years of experience, "And?"

"I like having you all to myself."

"You're not sharing me. We're only talking about letting people know that…" His voice trailed, knowing that he only had this one chance to make his point. And then it came to him, as if a light bulb had been switched on. "That I do belong to you. That no one else has any right to any part of me, physically or emotionally. That every ounce of my being belongs solely to you." As much as it was an explanation to convince Greg, the words were like music to his own ears. He did belong to Greg. He wasn't even sure if he possessed even the tiniest bit of himself any more.

As his fingers continued to roam over the keys, he realized he'd never thought of it that way. Maybe sharing wasn't so bad. He stopped playing. "Okay."

Not wanting to make a big deal out of it, "Good. Dinner's just about ready." He was about to step away when Greg's left hand rose to cover his right. No words came, just the gesture. It was all they needed.

Later that night, with James' head on his lap, he ran his fingers thru brown locks of hair while they watched a rerun of CSI on television. "So I take it you're okay with belonging to me."

"Of course I am."

"Good, because there is no way I'm becoming the fourth Mrs. Wilson."

"I can't see you being Mrs. anything."

"Of course not. New Jersey only recognizes same-sex civil unions, not marriages."

"Did you…look that up?"

"No." James didn't push any further, and Greg didn't elaborate. Instead, he went back to his original purpose for the conversation. "You know once the word gets around that we will be the topic of discussion right?"

"I'm okay with that."

With a devilish grin, "This is gonna be fun."

James rolled his eyes. "Don't make this into a game, Greg. We don't need to make a big deal, just not hide any more."

"Do you have any idea who you're talking to?"

He rolled onto his back and looked straight into the eyes of his lover. "Yes, yes I do. And you know what…do whatever you want. Just remember that it takes two to play a game."

"Oo, I love it when you talk dirty!"

With deliberate actions, James moved to straddle Greg's lap, ever careful of his right leg. Looking deep into the blue eyes that were darkening by the moment, he lowered his lips to kiss his partner's waiting pair. His tongue pushed thru welcoming, parting lips before licking and tasting the scruffy skin between Greg's mouth and ear. After a gentle nip at his earlobe, "Would it turn you on if I talked dirty to you, Greg?"

Greg dropped his head onto the back of the sofa and closed his eyes. In a near growl, "Oh, yeah."

His tongue flicked along Greg's ear in between lust-filled words, "So if I told you that I wanted to trace every inch of your body with my tongue, tasting the beads of sweat as they formed on your taught body, that would excite you?" A small moan rose from Greg's throat before he continued, "And if I said that I wanted to draw your cock into my mouth, licking it from base to tip, lapping it with my tongue, tasting the pre-cum as it oozed from your body, that would make you hard?" Greg raised his hips with a mumbled affirmation, pressing his already-forming arousal against his partner's before James continued, "And then if I described your hard, throbbing cock, pressing deep inside me, thrusting, making me writhe underneath you, begging to make me cum, that would make you ache for me?" Not even waiting for a response, "And then if I gave details about you pulsing inside me, engorged, on the brink of explosion, driving into me one last time before you burst in the most satisfying orgasm you ever had, that would-"

Greg interrupted him, not being able to take any more, "Fuck! Bed, now!"

James chuckled as he rose, simultaneously removing his clothes as he headed for their bedroom, Greg on his heels. When they fell onto the bed, James attacked Greg's body with his mouth, but Greg pushed him back onto the bed. "Skip everything else. Straight to me pushing my throbbing cock into your perfect ass." The younger man made a move to roll over, but the older stopped him, "No. I want to look at you."

The moment of intimacy coming from Greg caused an emotional reaction deep inside James' chest. He was silent as he waited while his lover rolled on a condom and lubed his stiff erection. The pain he felt as Greg slid into him was nearly unbearable. But the groan of pleasure he heard was enough to make it all worth it.

Leaning forward, Greg sucked James' bottom lip into his mouth then, "Open your eyes." Deep brown eyes opened to swirling blues, "You okay?"

He couldn't help himself, the emotion being too much to handle, "I love you."

Thrusting into his lover, Greg elicited a moan from both of them before both men exploded in an orgasm near simultaneously.