Happy holidays everyone.

House threw an assortment of sheets and blankets across the living room to Wilson, who was standing beside the couch staring into space. He jumped when a pillow hit him in the face and shook his head. "Sorry, lost in thought."

"Dangerous place to be." House commented.

Wilson picked the bedding up off the floor and began arranging it on the couch, an action which brought back memories of two previous divorces. He sighed, tipping forward to rest his head against the back of the couch. He was surprised to find House's hand resting on his shoulder, and sensed him hovering uncomfortably behind him. "I'm ok."

"That's not what the evidence suggests." House had moved closer. His hot breath made the hairs stand up on the back of Wilson's neck.

"House…" he suddenly felt on the verge of tears. He squeezed his eyes shut. "Want me to make dinner?"

"Sure. You know where the phone and takeout menus are."

Wilson was sure he felt fingers brush against his neck when he moved away. The Chinese came and they ate quietly, one man listening while the other spilled into rants about the various people he did not like. James ran over and over words in his head, trying to work out what to say, until every sentence lost meaning. He opened his mouth the speak once, planning to blurt out whatever came into his head, and choked on half an egg roll. So back he was in his own head, watching House wave his arms around, gesturing in indignation, about whatever it was he was talking about. A thousand thoughts filled his head, most of which were centred around the bright blue eyes of the man he was eating with and clouding any chance he had of forming a coherent sentence. A piece of meat hit him on the side of his face and slide down, leaving a ridiculous smear on his cheek. "Hey! What was that for?"

"To check you're still alive in there. Do you think you're at the talking about it stage yet? If you aren't, don't feel obligated to visit that stage this time around. Skip to the part where we get drunk and watch strippers."

"I was thinking about breaking up with Julie myself. I wasn't ready to go there yet but I'd considered it."

"Because you stopped loving her or because you found another person you loved more?" House knew the answer, of course, he always did.

"Option two. I think. I don't know."

"How can you not know?"

"I know this person means more to me than Julie does, I just can't figure out what I want from them." House gave a questioning look, so Wilson continued. "This person is so goddamn annoying half the time, dysfunctional, co-dependant, totally screwing views on what counts as acceptable behaviour…"

"Oh, is that all?" House said with a sarcastic edge.

"No. He also just threw food at me."

"Well you certainly shouldn't be in a relationship with someone that juvenile, even if you do look cute with sauce on your face."

"He's incapable of treating important things seriously…"

"Shall I start listing your faults? You are so blind you managed to not notice someone flirting with you day-in day-out for the past 6 years, you are so deeply repressed you married three women to convince yourself you're straight, plus screwed half the women in the tri-state area, you walk around everyday teasing people with that very cute ass – "

"You don't understand that my ass is not, in fact, detachable. You know all this already but still let me go through 3 terrible marriages instead of saying something –"

"You think I should take responsibility for your psychological issues."

"You caused half of my psychological issues."

"You sit there looking unbelievably gorgeous, not moving close enough for me to lick the sauce off."

"Well that is a valid point." Wilson smiled and moved from the armchair to join House on the couch.

House leaned in and with surprising softness pressed his lips against Wilson's. He gently nipped Wilson's lip, and then moved his mouth to his cheek, licking the sauce away, slowly and firmly working his tongue against the skin. When he pulled away he smiled at the expression on James' face; eyes half closed, lips parted and beads of sweat already forming on his brow.

"So, have you enjoyed the holidays, Dr Wilson?"

Wilson grinned. "We should do this every year."