A/N: I know this kind of plot-line has been done before, but not by me, and I think it flows well from the previous chapter. I admit there are some fluffy moments, but it comes with the territory. And the next chapter gets exciting/dramatic again.

7.16—"Meet the Parents"

"Okay," House said into his cell phone. "Love you too." He pressed 'end call' and rubbed his temples, sighing.

Wilson walked in the room. "What time's her flight getting in?"

"Three-thirty," the other replied, dropping his phone on the nightstand and sitting down on the bed. "She'll take a cab to the hotel, and I can pick her up for dinner on my way home from work."

Wilson sat down on the bed next to him. "You nervous?"

House shrugged. "She's my mom. She loves me. That's not gonna change 'cause I'm half-gay. And you know she'll be thrilled that it's you. She already thinks of you as a son-in-law."

Wilson smiled at that. "Well, I've got to admit, better her than any of the actual mothers-in-law I've had. Sam's mom thought we were way too young even though we were already grad students. Bonnie's mom loved me to death but she was just a nightmare...imagine Bonnie cubed. And Julie's mom never trusted me. She found it way too suspicious that it was my third marriage. I guess she was right though." He smiled a bit at the memories while House watched him.

"Are you nervous?" the older man asked.

Wilson turned to him. "I'm terrified," he admitted. "I don't know, just...I mean they're already disappointed in me for getting divorced three times, and now I'm compounding the problem by dating a guy...but I'm not gonna lie to them anymore. This is my life. You...are the most important thing in my life. It is what it is, and I have no reason to hide it."

House smiled. "You sure?"

Wilson nodded. "Yes."

"And for what it's worth," House added, "however they react, it can't be any worse than what my dad would say if he were still alive."

Wilson shrugged, unsure how to respond, and stared straight ahead. House followed suit.

[]

"James!" Blythe House exclaimed, hurrying into the kitchen to give Wilson a hug.

"Hello, Mrs. House," he greeted, smiling at her son over her shoulder. "How was your flight?"

"Just fine, and I've asked you before to call me 'Blythe,'" she scolded, smiling at him. "How are you? Keeping Greg out of trouble?"

Wilson mock-grimaced. "It's more like Greg's getting me into trouble, actually. Sorry."

Blythe laughed. "Nothing too bad, I hope. He tells me he cooks now; I'm assuming you had something to do with that."

"Well, I did talk him into taking a cooking class with me. Seriously, one class and his skills surpassed mine. Which reminds me—Greg, get over here and make the sauce."

"Flattery will get you nowhere, Wilson," House responded, joining the other two in the kitchen anyway.

"He's lying," Wilson said to Blythe, nodding at House. "As long as he actually believes what I tell him, flattery works every time."

Blythe chucked again, shaking her head. "Here, let me help with something."

A half hour later the wine and the gourmet dinner had been served.

"I'm impressed, Greg," Blythe said, smiling at her son as she took a bite. "This really is delicious."

"Yeah, but even I can't beat Wilson when it comes to pancakes," House said, taking a sip of wine. "I try to tell him I need fattening up, but he still only makes them for special occasions."

"Good for you," she responded, smiling at the oncologist. "So tell me, James," she continued after a minute. "Are you seeing anyone?"

House and Wilson looked at each other. This was it.

"Yes," House answered for him. "Someone I actually approve of, for once," he added, causing Wilson to snicker.

"Oh?" Blythe asked, dabbing at her face with a napkin. "And who might that be?"

They looked at each other again before House turned back to his mother. "Actually, Mom, it's me. James and I are seeing each other."

Much to the doctors' relief, she smiled. "Greg, that's wonderful news," she said, patting her son's hand and giving him a genuine smile. "So that's why you wanted me to come visit, you wanted to tell me in person. Well that's good, I'm happy for you both."

House and Wilson exchanged smiles. "So it doesn't bother you that he's a guy?" House clarified.

"I just want you to be happy," Blythe insisted. "And I don't think you could be happier with anyone else than you could be with James."

House gave his lover a quick smile, communicating without words that she was correct. Wilson squeezed his hand on the table.

"So how long have you been seeing each other?" she asked, returning to her food.

"Just over five months now," Wilson responded.

"I think this is the longest he's been in a relationship without getting married," House quipped, though he was exaggerating.

Wilson gave him a significant look, causing House to quickly turn back to his plate. "You and Stacy moved in together after a week," the younger man reminded him after he looked away. "Maybe not the same as getting married, but I always wait at least a few months before taking that step."

"Sam," House reminded him. "You were barely together a month before she moved in."

"She was my first ex wife; it was different with her," Wilson explained before turning to Blythe to fill her in. "I was dating her again for awhile just before Greg and I got together. He can't let it go."

"You were being an idiot," House said, taking a bite of food.

Wilson rolled his eyes. "We've had this conversation plenty of times, House. Going through it again would be redundant."

"Maybe I just like hearing you say that you were so in love with me you had to go chasing some ex wife tail to distract yourself," the diagnostician suggested.

"So how have you been?" Wilson asked Blythe, purposefully ignoring House.

[]

House stared at Wilson. "That's what you're wearing?"

"What?" Wilson asked, looking down at himself. He was wearing black pants, a silver tie, and a black suit jacket.

"You're coming out to your parents, not taking them to prom," House said, rolling his eyes. "Lose the jacket." He crossed the room to assist Wilson with this task.

"I'm nervous," Wilson defended. "I want to look nice."

"Yeah, because they'll turn to each other and say, 'Oh, our child is gay, but since he's wearing a suit we're automatically going to accept his new lifestyle.' Either they'll be okay with it right away or they won't. Your wardrobe won't have any influence on it."

"So I can keep the jacket, then," Wilson said, smiling at House.

"No, because then it'll just take that much longer to get you naked tonight," House contradicted.

"House, assuming they don't disown me, they're staying with us tonight," Wilson reminded, turning to him. "They could be...leaping for joy that we're gay lovers, I'm still not sleeping with you with them in the next room."

"Me being in the next room never stopped you from sleeping with Sam," House muttered under his breath.

"For god's sake, House, let it go already! Who am I with now, Sam or you, huh?"

"Only because she dumped you," he pointed out with a shrug. "If she hadn't had a problem with you moving things too fast, you'd still be together."

"You're right," Wilson said, sighing. "And if Julie hadn't cheated on me and kicked me out, I'd still be with her. And if Sam hadn't divorced me the first time, we'd still be together. And if my mother hadn't broken up with her first boyfriend, I would never have been conceived. But that's not the way life turned out. I'm with you now, I'm in love with you, I'm happier with you than I've been since Amber died, and I plan on staying that way. Your jealousy of Sam is irrational, and there's no reason to keep bringing it up."

He stepped past House and went into the bathroom to floss his teeth before his parents arrived.

[]

House met his mother in the lobby of her hotel before they headed back up to her room.

"So James is talking to his parents now?" she asked, sitting down in one of the armchairs.

"He will be any minute," House responded with a shrug. "He's scared half to death, thinks they're gonna disown him or something."

"Well you've met them," Blythe said. "Did they seem like reasonable people?"

"Probably. They didn't seem to like me very much. Then again, a lot of people one would consider 'reasonable' don't like me."

"Oh, that can't be true."

House didn't answer. He stared at ugly landscape painting on the hotel wall and shrugged.

"Greg?" she asked, and he turned to her. She looked serious. "Are you happy? With James?"

He thought about for a minute before responding. "I'm...happier than I can remember being."

"That's good, isn't it?" she prompted. "You seemed happy last night. I don't think I've ever seen you smile so many times in one night."

House smiled again at her comment. "I'm in love with him," he said simply.

"And he loves you?" Blythe asked.

"Yeah," House said, nodding. "He loves me. Not as much as I love him, I think, but I don't know if that's even possible."

His mother nodded along, looking slightly concerned. "Does he treat you well?"

"Yes," House answered resolutely, looking Blythe in the eye. "He feeds me, does my laundry, keeps the place clean. He tells me he loves me so often it drives me crazy, but it gets the message across, which I guess I need." He gripped his cane with one hand and something in his pocket with the other.

Blythe studied her son carefully. "And do you treat him well?"

House's face went blank as he thought for a moment. "I...I don't know. I cook for him sometimes...I...I don't know."

[]

"His name is Rodney," Blythe said. "I met him through church. We've gone out to dinner a few times, but nothing serious."

House nodded, but before he could ask anything else, his phone interrupted with "Dancing Queen."

"It's Wilson," House said, immediately flipping open the phone and getting out of the chair. "Hello?" he asked, making his way to the hallway to take the call in privacy.

"Well, they've agreed to meet you," Wilson said. He sounded exhausted. "I mean, I know they've met you before, but...you know."

"Yeah yeah yeah, this time as your boyfriend. Whatever. Wilson, do I treat you well?"

There was silence on the other end of the line. House stared at the phone.

"What brought that on?" Wilson asked finally.

"My mom asked me," House admitted, looking back at the door to the hotel room. "I couldn't answer her. Do I? I know I...never do my share of the chores, I make you pay for everything, I keep harassing you about Sam even though I know that happened months ago...I rarely ever tell you I love you and...now, Jesus, I'm interrogating you about how you think I treat you instead of asking how it went with your parents."

House heard a chuckle over the phone.

"Well, my dad is still kind of in shock, I think it might take him a while to get used to it, but my mom...she said she's had suspicions since I was young. She's totally fine with it. And to answer your question...Greg, you..." Wilson sighed, but he didn't sound upset or frustrated. It sounded like he was smiling. "I thrive on being needed, remember? Yes, it would be nice if you'd do the dishes once-in-a-while, but at least you don't put the milk in the door of the fridge."

House smiled into the phone.

"You keep my life interesting. You always have. I never get bored when you're around. You can make me laugh–"

"–All right, all right, I get the idea," House interrupted. "A simple 'yes' or 'no' would have sufficed. There's no need to get all mushy about it."

"No, let me finish," Wilson insisted. "You play songs on the organ that you know I like, you sometimes convince me to make or buy fattening food that neither of us need but that tastes good. Maybe you don't tell me you love me out loud very often, but I know you do from your body language. The way you look at me sometimes, making me feel like I'm the most important person in the world. At night you insist on holding me, and you have no idea how loved that makes me feel. Greg...you fulfil all of my needs. I can't imagine anyone treating me better than you do."

House waited a beat before responding. "Are you done yet?"

Wilson chuckled into the phone.

"What's so funny?"

"You didn't hang up," he said, sounding almost accusatory. "You could have put the phone down at any time but you didn't. You wanted to hear me say all those things."

"Lies. I do not, have never, and will never believe in sap."

"You didn't hang up the phone," Wilson pointed out, his tone teasing. "Closet romantic. You love hearing me say how much I love you."

"I'm hanging up the phone now," House warned. "Anything else you wanna say, you've got three seconds to cram it in...two...one..."

"I love you, Greg," Wilson managed to get in before House hung up the phone.

House shook his head at it, still smiling, and pushed open the hotel room door to say goodbye to his mother.

[]

"Oh, there he is," House heard a loud woman's voice say as he made his way into the restaurant. His eyes followed it and came to rest upon a trio sitting in a booth in the corner. Wilson sat across from his parents: his beaming, waving mother and rather subdued father.

House kind of wanted to smile as he made his way over to them, make a good impression and everything, but he couldn't quite manage it.

"Hello, Mr. and Mrs. Wilson," he greeted as he arrived at the table. He made to sit down next to their son, but before he could move Mrs. Wilson extracted herself from the booth to give House a giant hug.

"Greg, it's so lovely to see you!" Mrs. Wilson exclaimed, her arms wrapped around House while his hung at his sides, waiting for her to stop. At last she pulled back and inspected him. "I know we've only met a few times," she continued, sitting down again, much to House's relief. "But James speaks of you so often we feel we already know you."

"Oh," House said, biting back any number of less than polite comebacks for Wilson's benefit, and sitting down next to him.

"You know," Mrs. Wilson mused, smiling across the table at House, "it didn't come as a surprise at all to hear he was dating you—three divorces! And even when he was growing up I always wondered if he was...well...so inclined...but he seemed interested enough in the ladies and I figured it was something he needed to work out for himself and then when we met you, well...the first time we met you was at James's second wedding, so naturally I didn't want to say anything, I mean he was getting married!" She let out a high-pitched laugh before continuing. "And of course you were seeing that young woman too, at the time, but it did cross my mind, and after James's second marriage fell through, I wondered if then...imagine my surprise when he told us he and Julie were engaged! And you and your girlfriend were broken up, but the two of you were still friends. Of course I wanted things to work out with Julie, for James's benefit, but I had a feeling...and seeing the two of you interact, even at the wedding...it took everything I had to hold my tongue. Either it would work out or it wouldn't...I didn't want James to make a mistake, but since he'd never said a word to me...sexual identity is a very personal thing, and yes, I'm his mother, but even I can't tell him who he is when it comes to things like that. I just trusted that he would figure it out at his own pace, and tell us if and when he was ready."

Fortunately, a waiter appeared at that point and Mrs. Wilson had to pause in her ramble while everyone ordered. After that, Wilson managed to distract his mother by asking about his brother, and House was spared the awkwardness of hearing his lover's mother prattle on about her suspicions of her son's sexual orientation.

He sipped at his water and subtly observed Mr. Wilson. The man hadn't said a word since House arrived—not that he could really get a word in—and was inspecting the drink menu rather than looking at anyone. Of the few times he'd met him, House didn't remember him as overly talkative, but he hadn't been this silent either. Clearly, unlike his wife, he'd had absolutely no clue that his son was anything other than heterosexual and seemed less than pleased by the fact. House guessed that he was going along with this whole thing more for his wife's benefit than Wilson's. He wasn't exactly hostile, but not quite friendly, either.

That didn't really bother House. As long as the man didn't give James a hard time, he was okay with not becoming best friends with him.

After the main course arrived, Mrs. Wilson turned her attention to House again.

"So James tells me you've been dating for around five months, right, though in a sense you've been together significantly longer than that?"

House and Wilson exchanged glances and the latter fielded the question. "In a way, you could say there's always been something there, but really, Mom, it's only over the last year that I've started having stronger feelings for him, and I actually never intended to act on them. It was kind of an accident how we got together. Like I was telling you, I struggled with it for quite some time, even after I knew for sure how I felt I still tried to pretend I didn't. It was only very recently that I've been able to admit my feelings to myself. I can't speak for Greg, though," he added, giving him a sidelong glance.

The older doctor was playing with his food with his fork. "I don't know when it happened," he admitted. "When I was with Stacy, I was in love with her, so it couldn't have been until after that, but...yeah, like you, I spent time pretending. Years, really. But it was Mayfield..." he looked up at Wilson, ignoring his parents, and spoke directly to him. "When you dropped me off at Mayfield, that's when I...not when I knew, but when I...admitted it. To myself."

Wilson nodded in understanding, turning across the table again. "I think that's when it really started building. When he moved in with me after Mayfield."

"And that was..." Mrs. Wilson paused, thinking. "What, a year ago?"

"About a year and a half," Wilson amended with a shrug.

"A year and a half you've been living together," she repeated, her eyes widening. Then an enthusiastic smile crossed her face. "So, have the two of you talked about getting married?" she asked.

Mr. Wilson choked on his beer. He started coughing, and the doctors watched while his wife patted him on the back until he'd cleared his lungs.

"Well, to answer your question, Mom," Wilson said as though there hadn't been an interruption, "I actually proposed to Greg awhile back. He has yet to give me a response."

"Oh, please," House said, rolling his eyes. "You were joking. It was before we were even together," he explained to Mrs. Wilson. "He had the hots for our downstairs neighbour, but since I was closer to nai—starting a relationship with her, he decided to try and convince her we were lovers so she would back off. He figured the best way to get his message across was to stage a marriage proposal in front of a restaurant."

"Hey, he started it," Wilson pointed out. "I told her from the start we weren't together—which was the truth, at the time. But every time he saw her he pretended we were. He's tried to sabotage every relationship I've ever had."

"Wonder why that could be?" House mused, looking around the restaurant in mock-wonder before winking at Mrs. Wilson.

Wilson rolled his eyes.

"But, since you've been dating," she clarified, pointing back and forth from House to Wilson. "You haven't talked about it?"

"No," Wilson said, looking away from his mother. "Not really."

"I think he thinks it's bad luck," House pointed out with a shrug. "I mean hey, every other relationship he's had was fine until he got hitched. Why should I be any different, right?"

Wilson stared at House while he took another drink of his water, continuing to face forward and pretending he didn't notice his lover's gaze.

[]

Wilson lay awake, staring at his bedroom wall. House's arms were tight around him, as always, as though he were afraid Wilson might slip out in the middle of the night and run away if the older man weren't holding him. Wilson squeezed his fingers.

"Greg?" he said softly.

"Unless you changed your mind about having sex, shut up," House murmured. "I'm trying to sleep here."

"Greg, do you want to get married?"

Wilson rolled over on the bed, so he could face House for the answer. For a moment the older man just stared at him.

"I've gotta say, Wilson," he responded after a moment. "This isn't nearly as romantic as your last proposal."

"I...I'm not proposing," Wilson clarified quietly. "I'm asking. When we spoke with your mom, you brought it up, and at dinner with my parents, you commented on it as well. So it got me wondering if...it's something that you want. Maybe I'm wrong, I don't know if you're...the marrying kind...like I am. I'm not requesting you do it. I'm asking if it's what you want."

House sighed, and then he spent a few minutes studying Wilson. "I want...you to...god, Wilson, do we have to have this conversation?"

"It's a 'yes' or 'no' question, Greg. Either you'd like to get married or you wouldn't. It doesn't have to be more complicated than that."

"Yes it does," House muttered. He rolled over onto his back and stared at the ceiling. "Wilson..." he sighed again. "Okay, Wilson...damn..."

"Greg," Wilson interrupted. "Look at me."

House turned over again to face the younger man, who spent a moment looking at him before leaning forward and giving him a gentle, chaste kiss. House wondered how Wilson always knew exactly what he needed. He felt relaxed, and suddenly, what he needed to say no longer sounded ridiculously sentimental. It was simply true, a desire, and Wilson was in love with him and would not find it over-sweet. "Wilson..." he said slowly, keeping their eyes locked together, "I want for you to spend the rest of your life with me."

Wilson stared at him, a smile playing around his lips. "So...you do want to get married then."

"That's not...exactly what I said," House pointed out, looking away. "I said what I want, but how we get there is up to you. If you think the best way for that to happen is a wedding, then fine, we can go through with a wedding. If you think it's a better idea not to come near a marriage license with a 50ft pole, then we won't. It's...it's your decision, Wilson. I don't know what it'll take to get you to stay, but whatever it is, that's what we'll do."

"Greg..." Wilson said softly, and House allowed him to run a couple fingers through his short hair. He whispered, "Greg, I want to spend the rest of my life with you too. I don't think you've ever liked weddings, and I've had enough of them to last me a lifetime, literally, but certainly if you wanted to, we could–"

"–I don't want a wedding," House cut in. "You're right. I don't like them. What about the legal stuff? Do you think signing a piece of paper will make you more likely to stick around or more likely to stray?"

The younger man looked the older in the eye. "I don't think signing a piece of paper will have any effect on the duration of our relationship. It would give us more rights as a couple, but that's not what this conversation is about."

"Right, so if we decide that, it's for legal reasons, not personal ones. Okay then. We're good. Goodnight, Wilson."

"Wait, I'm not finished," Wilson interrupted, and House groaned and opened his eyes. Wilson was smiling at him. "Listen," he said, "I want to be with you until we die, and I don't think anything we do could make that desire more likely to become reality, but if you'd like...it might be nice to...maybe exchange vows and rings?" He looked at House hopefully. "Not in front of anyone, just us, a private thing. And if you're against it, we don't have to, but...I think it could bring us closer."

House looked at him. "Was that a proposal?" he asked.

Wilson chuckled. "Yes, I guess that was a proposal."

House scanned Wilson's face for a moment before slowly nodding his head. "Yeah, okay."

Wilson's face lit up. "Really?"

"Yeah, if that's what you want."

Wilson kissed him, and House kissed back for a moment before Wilson pulled away. "My parents are still in the next room," he reminded him.

"Right," House said. "Well, in that case...can I go to sleep now?"

"Yes," Wilson said with a smile.

"Finally," House muttered, turning over on the bed and pulling Wilson's arm with him. Now that he was facing away, and the younger man couldn't see him, he smiled.

Promo (I'm pretending this is a TV show, remember?):
Wilson: "Greg?"
Foreman: "Wilson, there you are. Do you have any idea where House is? He won't answer his phone."
Wilson: "He never came home..."
Cuddy: "Wilson, I'm sure he's fine. Maybe he didn't hear his phone, or he left it in his backpack or something."
Wilson: "Lisa, I'm seriously worried. What if...what if he's doing drugs again?" You are the dancing queen, young and sweet, only seventeen... House: "Wilson! Wilson, I can't reach my phone..."
...