A/N: This is the last chapter. Thanks to all my readers. You guys are the best!


So I'm sharing a bed with another man. That man happens to be my best friend, my worst enemy, the man who knows how to push my buttons and push them well, and the one person on earth I would do anything and everything for. Looking back, it was a long, strange, twisted journey from us meeting at conference in Louisiana a million years ago to the two of us ending up naked in his bed. Nobody ever said these things had to make sense. After all I was the guy who declared our friendship over and done with a few months ago. Sayonara, House; do me a favor and rot in hell. But when he pulled me back in I certainly didn't see our relationship heading in this direction until House all but smacked me over the head with it. Then cornered me in the kitchen and kissed me. That last part was pretty damn nice…for him and for me.

His head was tucked under my chin, his hair coarse like bristles of a broom. This time he was in my arms, and I could hear and feel every long, drawn-out breath he took in his deep sleep. Carefully I brushed my hand up and down his chest, taking my time so I wouldn't wake him up. It was intoxicating, the heat and texture of his skin beneath my palm. Just having him next to me was more addictive than his damn Vicodin.

You're mine, House. You're mine.

Thankfully my shirt sleeves can cover up the finger-shaped marks that were most likely covering my upper arms now. Finding out whether I had a hickey or two would have to wait until morning. I heard him sigh and smiled at that. The gentle sleeping House who sighed quietly in his sleep…a million miles away from his bruising kisses and grabby hands that practically tore my clothes off earlier.

House and me, lovers as well as friends. That concept was going to take some time to wrap my head around.

But I wanted this. I needed this. I needed him to need me, because he needed someone here to keep an eye on him, to make sure he doesn't go off the deep end once and for all. Amber went out of her way to make me see that she could take care of herself, getting downright snarky about it. That rubbed me wrong way…not that I ever said it to her face. House needed a steady, calming influence in his life and I want that influence to be me. Maybe I am just as desperate and insecure as he is, but I can at least admit it to myself. Someday I might be able to admit that to him. Only if he asked me first.

I had to loosen by grip on him as he turned over, grunting and mumbling a few nonsense words, now facing away from me. As soon as he settled back down my arms were around his chest again, holding on to him possessively. Because he's mine and mine alone. It was just House and me, and that's how it would stay from this day forward.

You're mine, House. All mine.

Good God, I'm so fucking needy. I need to be careful or else I'll let it consume me whole.

"Wilson?"

He shifted back over, and I could hear a change in his breathing; short, fast breathes like something had scared him.

"Wilson…?"

"House." I reached up and smoothed down his hair with short, gentle strokes in hopes of keeping him calm. "It's okay, you just fell asleep."

"I did?"

"You're in your own bed, House. You're fine."

"I fell asleep with you?" His words came out thick and heavy like molasses as his breathing slowed down. Nothing had scared him. He wasn't waking up; he was still sleeping and not aware of a damn thing he was doing.

"Yes, with me."

"That's good," he muttered before throwing an arm over me and resting his head in the crook of me neck before he began snoring away in la-la land again.

My face split into an ear-to-ear grin. It could have lit up the whole damn room.

You're mine, House, and you need me just as much as I need you.

--The End.