House woke up slowly by degrees, emerging into full consciousness from a delectable dream. He smiled as he remembered the fevered caresses of the night before. Wilson's moans echoed in his ears and he licked his lips, savouring the flavour of Wilson bursting across his tongue. House turned to face him, legs tangling in the sheets.

The bed was empty, light filtered through the blinds, casting a golden glow over the room. House's stomach flipped and his mouth was instantly dry. He listened for any evidence that Wilson was moving around the apartment. A fleeting vision of warm, domesticity entered House's mind. Wilson cooking him breakfast, humming softly to himself. House heard only silence, it was deafening. House immediately started to imagine what Wilson's absence signified. There was only one conclusion his mind came to, again and again. He felt cheap, used and dirty.

The pain in his leg stirred him to action. He got out of bed and made his way to the closest supply of pills.Taking one, he winced as the pill scratched his raw throat. Getting dressed, his limbs heavy and immobile.He briefly considered calling Wilson. asking him why he felt the need to leave House in the middle of the night, feeling like a common hooker. Dismissing the idea, he scolded himself for thinking like a lovesick, teenage girl. "Get a fucking grip"

A key in the lock, House's attention immediately focused on the door, knowing it could only be one person. He felt immensely relieved that he hadn't phoned Wilson and inwardly cringed at his desperate, needy thoughts.

Wilson stepped through the door, a bag of groceries in his arms. When he saw House, he smiled a bright, beaming smile that did funny things to House's insides. Wilson strode into the kitchen, put the bag of groceries on the counter and came back to stand in front of House.

"I didn't want to wake you and face the joy of your morning persona." Wilson pointed to the kitchen. "You may choose to live on Vicodin and scotch, but some of us need to eat actual food."

House looked up at Wilson, his heart rate quickened and his stomach pitched. He thought God I'm so screwed but said. "What are you cooking your man for breakfast?"

Wilson raised his eyebrows and looked pointedly at House. "You do realise I'm not going to be your wife, don't you?"

House sniggered. "Baby, you've always been my wife."

Wilson's eyes widened slightly and he blushed. "Baby?"

House stood in front of Wilson, reached out and brushed a strand of hair away from his eyes with an exquisitely tender gesture. He looked into Wilson's eyes, then leaned forward and brushed his lips, fleetingly across Wilson's with the barest of contact. He pulled back and once again looked into Wilson's eyes. "You don't want me to call you baby?"

Wilson closed his eyes and sighed. "It's not that, I can't believe we're even having this conversation. You are the least affectionate person I've ever met. Did I wake up in an alternate dimension or something?"

House started backing Wilson up against the door. When his back hit the wood, House leaned in and crushed his lips to Wilson's. They kissed passionately. House placed his hand very deliberately over Wilson's crotch and pressed his palm hard, against the obvious bulge. He pulled back slightly and smirked. "Oh yeah you're my baby."

Wilson banged his head against the door in frustration as House sat back on the couch and repeated. "So what's for breakfast?"

Wilson gave up and walked into the kitchen to make breakfast. House smirked and sprawled out languidly.

They ate breakfast and Wilson cleared the dishes, with a put upon sigh. House shouted to Wilson from his position on the couch. "I'm going to work today."

Wilson appeared in the doorway with his hands covered in suds. "You can't, Cuddy said to take a few days off."

House rolled his eyes. "And I always do exactly as I'm told."

Wilson furrowed his brow. "But you hate work."

House sighed theatrically and shook his head. "I'm not actually going to work, I just need to do something, that I can only do at the hospital."

Wilson shrugged and gave up, walking back to the kitchen he said. "I'm coming with you."

House smiled to himself and thought, I'm counting on it.

They walked into the hospital. Wilson was radiating tension, his shoulders were stiff and he looked ready to flee at the slightest hint of danger. House was confused. "What's wrong?"

Wilson spoke uneasily. "I feel like people are watching us, like they know."

House laughed, he fought back an overwhelming urge to kiss Wilson, right there in the corridor. "Relax, no one knows anything... yet."

Wilson stopped suddenly on hearing the last part of House's sentence. He looked worried as House smiled evilly, then gave him a faux, innocent expression.

Wilson went to his office to do paperwork, House went to look for his underlings. He planned on a judicious amount of innuendo on the subject of himself and Wilson, to mess with their heads.

"I reckon he's at home crying into his scotch" Foreman said.

"Naw, he's making sweet love to Wilson on the piano." Chase countered with a twinkle in his eye, winking at Cameron.

They noticed House and the conversation abruptly halted.

Cameron unsurprisingly spoke first. "House, are you okay?"

House replied. "Yeah I'm fine, Wilson took really good care of me." He winked at Chase.

Cameron continued. "Should you be in? Maybe you should take a few days off."

"I'm so grateful for your compassion and the sympathetic head tilt." House said sarcastically "But I'm a grown up and I think I can just about make it through the day without crying and curling into the fetal position."

Cameron shook her head but remained silent.

"Why are you here?" Cuddy spoke from behind House.

House turned around and stared at her cleavage. "I missed the girls."

Cuddy raised her eyebrows, turned on her heels and said over her shoulder. "My office."

House shrugged and whispered conspiratorially to the three doctors. "Any excuse to get me alone."

He followed Cuddy, walked into her office and closed the door behind him. "Do you wanna do it on the desk, or on the couch?"

"Give it a rest House." She paused and looked at him searchingly. "You went through a horrific experience, you need to speak to someone about it."

"Is that an order?" House replied.

Cuddy let out a weary chuckle. "Yeah, because ordering you to do things, has worked so well for me in the past. Seriously House, you like to think you're untouchable but, I know the irony hasn't escaped your attention. You were held hostage, at knifepoint, by a drug addict after a fix. The only difference between you and her, is you don't have to get the drugs illicitly."

House was instantly furious. "No, the difference between us, is I need the pills for pain."

He turned and stormed out of the office, slamming the door with a bang, that shook the frame. He needed to find Wilson, figuring he'd be in his office, he walked straight in.

Wilson looked startled, then concerned as House barged into the room. "You okay?"

Wilson got up and strode across the room to stand in front of House.

House looked deep into Wilson's eyes and brushed the back of his hand against Wilson's, feeling better for only this small contact. House tried to formulate his thoughts before replying. "Cuddy was just pointing out, how much like that psycho with the knife I am."

Wilson shifted uncomfortably.

House swallowed "You think she's right don't you?"

Wilson's silence answered the question more truthfully than he ever could with words.

House was stunned, he turned to leave but Wilson grabbed his arm pulling him back, not letting go. Wilson started hesitantly to speak. "I know you're in pain, I think maybe you need the Vicodin more than you realise. I worry that the dose is going up, I just think you don't want to try anything else because you're scared you can't give it up. If you try and fail, you can't deny that you're addicted."

As much as House wanted to deny his words, he couldn't. He turned away from Wilson, avoiding his gaze.

"Come on, I want to show you something." House grabbed Wilson and pulled him. Wilson followed with trepidation.

They walked down the corridor together, towards Cuddy's office. When they got there, the door was ajar and the office empty. House yanked on Wilson's arm, pulling him forcefully into the room. Wilson immediately began to protest. House closed the blinds and shut the door behind Wilson, pulling him to the desk by his tie. House smothered Wilson' complaints by kissing him, thrusting his tongue into his mouth and stifling any protestations. Wilson began to kiss him back with enthusiasm. House pushed Wilson back until he was sat on the desk, he then moved to stand between Wilson's legs, not breaking the kiss.

The door opened with a crash, Cameron, Chase and Foreman stood with open mouths. Wilson jumped and blushed crimson. House just smirked.

Cameron looked confused and horrified, shaking her head as if to clear the image she had just witnessed, she said "You paged us to come to Cuddy's office, saying it was an emergency!"

Wilson looked at House with murderous intent as House smugly replied "Wilson isn't handcuffed, but I think Chase wins anyway."