Author's Note: Hi, again; whoever reads this- if anyone. Just thought that I'd say that I don't actually proofread or even re-read any of these chapters before posting. I am not writing this for quality writing purposes- I'm writing to help cope with my own traumas from childhood. If you know me; then well, you will come to know more about me in future chapters, I guess. Enjoy.

James Wilson sat back, unsure of what to do next; that was not the impression or assumptions he was intending to give to Foreman. Although one thing was becoming clearer and clearer; he was going to need to discuss this with House eventually, and sooner rather than later.

"Hello, my baby, hello my darling…" Greg sung as he entered the apartment later that night; after Wilson, but at least he was making good progress with his latest case, a particularly confusing one that had him completely stumped.

James had come home early and cooked one of Greg's favourite meals and had it ready and was serving up when he had walked in, thinking about how he know thought of House as Greg. He brought it up with House who somewhat sheepishly agreed that he thought of Wilson as James now, and that while it still felt strange to think about; it felt good. Like when he went from "Mr." to "Dr." but only much better.

They ate it up hungrily in silence, Greg inevitably downing a couple of glasses of whisky as he did so; and James then went to start gathering the plates.

After dinner, Greg was lying in bed in his underwear reading a textbook, trying to figure out what exactly was happening with their latest patient, when James strolled in after his shower; "what are you reading?" he queried.

"Just trying to figure out what is going on with my latest patient, crazy workload you know, one patient, there's no way any other doctor, much less you, could cope with that in my shoes," he responded, an air of joking in his tone.

"If I had your obsessive nature, I'm not quite sure that I could," James joked back, then lightened with a sweet smile gracing his lips, "you are such a kind, sweet, caring man,"

"Not adjectives I hear about myself often, James, what's your angle?" Greg narrowed his eyes and lowered the book.

Grinning, James clambered onto the bed and snuggled into him, nuzzling his neck; "other people don't know you like I do," he purred. Greg half smiled, took off his reading glasses and closed the book, putting it on the bedside table.

"Is that so? Then why don't you show instead of telling, Dr Wilson?" Greg pulled James in closer, leaning over him, putting himself into the more dominant position for the encounter, which James allowed.

Pressing his chest onto James', he kissed him desperately; lapping up his affections, he ran his hand slowly through James' thick, dark hair as he snaked his tongue into his lover's mouth. Grinding and slowly pulling himself up to garner more access and a more dominant position, Greg felt his cock start to twitch and swell, with fingers digging into James' chest, lightly scratching; Greg bit back a moan of excitement at what was about to happen. "James," he moaned, biting his tongue, "its… it has been a while, I don't think that I will last long,"

James smiled back into his mouth before pulling his head back and meeting Greg's eyes, "that's fine," he gasped, "I'll still enjoy it," slipping down and tugging off Greg's underwear, taking extra special care around his scar; he wrapped his hand around Greg's hard cock; James opened up his well-practiced mouth, Greg's cock was quite a bit bigger than he'd first expected, he choked a bit at first but quickly got into a rhythm. Before long, he felt digging into his shoulder from Greg's nails as his entire body tensed and went rigid, "I'm going to cum!"

Instead of ruining his rhythm that was very clearly working; James instead just grasped and dug his own fingernails into Greg's butt cheek, just behind the hip bone, gazed up to meet his eyes into his lover's, and dropped the back of his tongue further- until his bitter cum shot directly into James' mouth; he closed his eyes and tried to stop a grimaced expression as he continued to hold Greg's penis in his mouth until it returned to his flaccid state.

"Not how you remembered when you were younger? With Adam?" Greg laughed with a slight teasing note to his voice.

"You need to drink more pineapple juice, or something," James chuckled back; wiping his mouth with the back of his hand, "its bitter,"

"That'd be the painkillers,"

"And the whisky. My turn now,"

"And the whisky too, I guess. My body is yours," Greg joked, but it had a strange sound to it, that James pushed to the back of his mind.

Greg was absolutely phenomenal; like everything else he does, I guess, has to be the best… but stopped before James finished before uttering the words that every man wants to hear in the heat of the moment, "do you want to finish inside?"

James' eyes lit up and Greg smiled as he took himself off James' cock, grabbed a couple of pillows to tuck under his hips and to take the weight of presenting himself off his bad leg. "There's lube in the drawer," Greg panted; James sucked his index and middle fingers before covering them and Greg's asshole with lube and pushing gently with a tiny bit of pressure; first with his index finger and then with his middle finger as well as he entered and gently stretched while covering his hard cock with lubrication as he removed his fingers and pushed with a bit of pressure behind it; until Greg gave him access.

Aside from trying to avoid accidentally putting any weight onto Greg's bad leg; James otherwise went to town. He began slow but then quickened up. He was lying with his full weight pressed onto Greg's back, kissing his neck gently which juxtaposed with how rough he knew he was being on his lover's ass. Greg moaned and groaned quietly; but otherwise, didn't have the kind of reaction that James necessarily wanted. James slipped his right hand around the front of Greg's throat from behind as he nipped and kissed at the back of his neck; as he began to gently tighten around Greg's throat; enough so Greg could definitely feel it, but not enough to hurt too badly; "who's your daddy, Greg, hey? Who is your daddy?" in time with his thrusts. No answer, so James responded with a bit of a tighter grip around Greg's throat; enough for his breath to hitch, and pounded his asshole harder, unnecessarily hard; but only until he felt that his efforts and love were being reciprocated before asking again in a harder, deeper, more domineering voice; "who is your daddy, Greg? Answer me!"

"You are, you're my daddy," came the response. It didn't have full heart in it, and definitely sounded as though there was a whimper in it; I'm probably being a little rough, getting a bit carried away. I wouldn't like it this rough James considered; before he slowed his thrusts; which showed to be more enjoyable to both of them; James reached around to jerk Greg and re-excite him; but even when he massaged the prostrate with his fingers to try and get him hard again, it didn't work. He just continued to lay there. "Come on James," he panted, "come on, finish in me- finish in your filthy boy," so that is just what James did. He unloaded more than he could remember in a very long time; this has been a long time coming. Afterwards he collapsed onto Greg's back before rolling off; both panting and doused in sweat.

"I'm going to go grab a shower, OK?" Greg mumbled, groaning slightly as he went to get up.

"Does it hurt?" James asked, concern filling his voice.

Greg just shrugged, "you were pretty rough on me,"

Flashing back, James thought about it and winced, "I'm sorry,"

"It's fine. I'll be fine," grabbing for his cane and limping out of the room into the bathroom.

James changed the sheets and put the used sheets in the washing machine until Greg came limping out of the bathroom; "all yours," he said, all smiles, before leaning forward to kiss his lover as they switched places, put on some pyjama pants, and settled down in bed. Greg wasn't sure how long it took; but when James returned from his shower; he found his boyfriend sat on the bed, staring off into space.

James' mind instantly flashed into doctor mode. Absence seizure? Immediately running over to his boyfriend's side and gently shaking him as all that turned its head and greeted him back was an empty stare. No, not an absence seizure. Disassociation.

Wondering what could have caused this; his mind flashed to his earlier conversation with Foreman that day, and the conversation he'd had with Greg that he'd forgotten all about in the heat of the moment. Knowing that there wasn't much he could do; James pulled on some track suit pants and an old top and climbed into bed next to his boyfriend; and just held him gently. Calmly riding out the storm with him that he had no idea what war was flashing in Greg's head; only a sinking feeling that he'd helped cause or at least resurface it. Before long tears were filling James' eyes and silently falling onto the freshly made bedsheets. I did this. This is all my fault. Oh Greg, I'm so sorry.