Oops... forgot the disclaimer on my previous stories - don't own House (sadly) or Playstation - Sony own all rights to that. Enjoy this piece, requested by a friend of mine :)

"No way! You won the last game!"

"Oh yeah! I'm just too damn good!" House yelled, punching the air in triumph.

"How the hell have you won all of those games?" Wilson sighed, setting his PlayStation controller on the coffee table.

"What can I say? I'm the master." House put his controller down too, and slid his arm around Wilsons shoulder to try and break the ice. But Wilson just shrugged it off and went into the bedroom. House stared in that direction, unable to believe that he got annoyed so quickly. He grabbed his cane and headed for their bedroom, feeling a sharp pang in his chest when he saw his lover sitting on their bed with his head in his hands. House gingerly sat down next to him, putting his cane on the floor at his feet.

"I'm sorry, James…" House started to say, but was silenced by Wilson holding up a hand.

"It's not your fault, Greg. I've just had a bad week… I had to tell 7 people that they were going to die…" House reached over and gave Wilsons hand a squeeze, softly nudging him. He smiled, and looked at House.

"Is this you being sympathetic?" Wilson joked, poking his lover in the ribs, laughing when he squirmed away.

"You're ticklish?"

Not publicly… no, stop it!" House pleaded, trying to stop Wilsons hands from causing havoc on his sides. In the end he gave up as he fell backwards onto the bed in fits of laughter, Wilson continuing to tickle him. It made him happy to know that he was the one who put the smile back on Wilsons face, even if he had to be tickled - it was nothing compared to the week Wilson's just had.

Wilson, now looming over House, couldn't help but grin openly at the sight before him. Gregory House, smiling - laughing, in fact - at being tickled, and not even trying to stop him as his hands were above his head. He looked so handsome with a proper smile on his face. Wilson stopped his onslaught on House, letting one hand stay on his stomach, the other going up to cup one side of his face. Greg smiled, and leaned up to meet Wilsons lips. His eyelids fluttered shut as the hand on his stomach travelled under his shirt, only for it to suddenly withdraw along with the rest of Wilson.

"Damn! I forgot the lasagne is in the oven!" He exclaimed, shooting into the kitchen. House took a few well needed deep breaths before limping after him.

House waited until Wilson has set the lasagne on the table before going up to Wilson and turning him around. He smiled, and slid his arms around his lovers waist, drawing Wilson against him in an embrace.

"Love you." House mumbled into his shoulder, before letting Wilson go. He looked startled, then smiled softly at his lover.

"I love you too, Greg. Now help me set the table."