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I Just Needed Someone to Drink With

Chapter Text

“I'm here to bail out Dr. James Wilson”, House says, slamming a wad of cash on the counter, just for dramatic effect. The man behind said counter looks at him with a very bored expression. “One moment please”, he says in a flat tone.

It does in fact take a few more moments but then the door to House's right opens and Dr. Wilson himself walks in. He is a young man, far too young to get divorced already. Lean but not skinny. A relatively square face with good cheekbones. His shoulders are hunched. He looks miserable, probably still a bit drunk. As he looks at House, he has a blank expression. His eyes are interesting. It's not the first time House has noticed that.

 

“Your little escapade in the bar has been taken care of. I'm Dr. House, by the way. Wanna have a drink?”, House says.

 

Wilson freezes right in front of him. He stares at him, his forehead wrinkled, furled eyebrows. “Why did you bail me out?”, he asks: “Do I know you?”

 

“Nope, but I thought that might change.”

 

Wilson keeps studying his face. “Why?”

 

“Because I need someone to drink with me.”

 

The young man blinks. He is, actually, kind of cute. “I'll pay you back”, he says: “As soon as I have access to my accounts.”

 

“It's not a big deal. Now, how about those drinks?”

 

Wilson sighs and they walk out of the station together. “You know, I am no longer allowed in the hotel bar, right?”, he asks.

 

A mischievous smile appears on House's face. “I know. Just trust me, do as I say and we will have a great evening.” For some Reason, Wilson does.

 

-

 

When he sets a foot into the hotel bar, the bartender immediately rushes towards him.

 

“Leave! Now! I don't want to see you in here any more!”, he shouts with a level of anger in his voice that would make anyone flinch.

 

“I just came in to see if I left my...”

 

“I don't care!”, the bartender interrupts, furiously: “If there's anything you are missing, go to the lost and found. I don't want to see you in here ever again!”

 

“All right, all right!” Wilson raises his hands in defence. “Have a good evening.”

 

He turns around while the bartender proceeds to stare furiously. A moment later, Wilson feels a pat on the back.

 

“Well done!”, House praises with a wide grin.

 

Wilson raises an eyebrow. “And what have I done exactly?”

 

“Distracted the bartender while I snuck around the counter to get us one bottle of his finest scotch.”

 

House shows him the bottle. Now the other man will surely lecture him, tell him off for stealing or get offended for being pulled into this.

 

“What?” Wilson stares, eyes wide. He shakes his head. “You're unbelievable!” His voice is meant to sound scolding but it actually sounds like. . . admiration.

 

“Figured, if you are going to pay that much for a mirror, might as well get something in return.”

 

“Right! Because that's how that works...” Wilson still doesn't sound offended. He sounds amused.

 

House is intrigued. “So, you steal often?”, he asks.

 

“Never!”

 

“But you have no scruples against it?”

 

Wilson sighs deeply. “Listen, do you want me to give you a lecture, or do you want to get drunk?”

 

“I think, I'll choose option B.”

 

-

 

They decide to take the bottle up to the roof, a small part of the roof that is only accessible through one of the rooms.

 

“This' really your room?”, Wilson asks, while House is picking the lock.

 

“Let's say yes.”

 

House swings open the door while he gets another one of these peculiar looks from Wilson. Like the other man knows he shouldn't approve of this but, somehow, he does. As if he admired House's recklessness against his own will.

 

“What if someone is inside?”, the young man asks.

 

“Don't worry, there all at the seminars or the bar. And if someone comes in, just pretend, you don't know me and say I dragged you into this. At least, that's my go to excuse.”

 

“I don't know you.”

 

“That's a god start!” House winks at him. It's very dark but for a moment, House thinks he sees a slight blush on Wilson's cheeks.

 

They cross the empty, dark apartment to get on the roof. It's fresh outside but not too cold. They sit down and let their feet dangle from the rooftop. House unscrews the bottle.

 

“To your divorce!”, he toasts and takes a swig.

 

“How did you know?” Wilson looks puzzled, not offended. He takes the bottle and drinks without hesitation. House watches as he takes two large gulps.

 

“I'm psychic”, House says and Wilson frowns. “Or, maybe you ran around with an unopened envelope from a divorce attorney. Definitely one of the two.”

 

He grabs for the bottle and his fingers brush against Wilson's hand before the young man lets go. He is staring into the distance.

 

“I thought I would spend my life with her”, he says: “And now...”

 

“Probably all her fault”, House offers: “That's what you wanna say?”

 

“I don't know.”

 

It's silent for a while. Just two strangers sitting on the roof, drinking scotch. Not looking at each other.

 

“Or maybe you're an ass-hole and deserve to be divorced. It's too early for me to say...”

 

“Are you always this brutally honest?” Wilson asks. It's not judgemental.

 

“Usually.”

 

“And how does that work out for you?”

 

“Usually not very good.”

 

“Huh.”

 

Wilson grabs the bottle from House, not touching his hand in any way. He raises it to his mouth and then pauses.

 

“Let's talk about something else”, he says: “Any ideas?”

 

“Do you like monster trucks?”

 

As a matter of fact, Wilson does.

 

-

 

They talk and drink and soon House gets to see another side of Wilson. The enthusiastic, fun side. He is very big on gestures and modulating his voice and his smile is truly contagious. And, man, does he smile a lot!

House can't help but stare at him. There is a certain boyish look to his features that he cannot really pin down. Is it the eyes? Or his cheekbones? Or his smile? He looks so young and full of life. Why would anybody want to divorce this man? There must be something truly wrong with him and House has to find out what.

 

“What?”, Wilson asks, handing him the bottle, slightly swaying.

 

“Hmm?” House is snapped out of his thoughts.

 

“You're staring at me.”

 

“Was I?”

 

“Yup.”

 

“Must be that big writing on your forehead that says 'divorced looser'”

 

Wilson frowns. “You always deflect with jokes?”

 

“You always over analyse people?”

 

House drinks the last bit of scotch. Have they really emptied a whole bottle together? He feels slightly dizzy and Wilson is still eyeing him with that particular look as if he is thinking about saying something but still weighing the options in his head.

 

“Getting drunk: Check! What you wanna do next?” House asks.

 

“Probably something stupid.”

 

Wilson sounds a bit confused so House decides to make a joke. “I'm stupid”, he says: “Well, technically not, but...” He pauses.

 

Suddenly, the confusion in Wilson's face is gone. There is another expression now. Determination.

 

He is practically grabbing House, pulling him towards himself, kissing him way too passionately for two men whose feet are dangling off a rooftop and who are both very well beyond tipsy by now.

 

“Woah!”, House whispers, holding onto the young man as he feels his body shift dangerously close to the edge. His brain cannot even begin to process what has just happened and the last thing he needs right now is the man who has just kissed him like that to fall to his death.

 

Wilson giggles as if falling of the roof were a joke. Or, maybe, he just feels safe in House's grip. Their faces are still very close. Lot's of wrinkly lines around Wilson's eyes, his eyebrows raised, his eyes... House cannot believe what has just happened.

 

“You're beautiful”, House says, because he always tells the truth and Wilson smiles. It's the careless smile of a young man who gets told that he is beautiful a lot.

 

“Let's go inside”, Wilson whispers, all shyness suddenly forgotten. His gaze is piercing and full of want. How can House say no?

 

-

 

Later, as they lie in bed together and House looks at the patch of fluffy but now very tousled brown hair, he still cannot believe it! Wilson is already asleep. He has fallen asleep almost immediately afterwards and House cannot really blame him for it. He had really overexerted himself!

In his sleep, he looks peaceful. House stretches out a hand and carefully runs his fingers through the young man's hair. Wilson hums but doesn't wake.

 

-

 

When House wakes up the next morning, the bed is empty next to him. He takes a deep breath as the all too familiar feeling of cold creeps into him, of being alone. Of course it had been too good to be true! A handsome, intelligent, truly interesting young man like that wasn't exactly waiting for a cynical curmudgeon like him to enter his life. House had been a distraction, nothing more.

He closes his eyes and takes a deep breath. Maybe he can just stay in bed for the rest of the conference, for the rest of the week, or month...

 

There is a clatter in the kitchen and a slight hissing sound. Some under the breath cursing. It washes over House like a warm wave. He smiles and gets up without putting on any of his clothes. After all, he is wearing his boxers.

 

“Morning, sunshine!” He says, pushing open the door to the kitchen that, despite the hotel having a restaurant, is equipped with a very small kitchen unit, which Wilson has apparently used to make pancakes. He also has, apparently, shared House's attitude towards clothing.

As the door swings open with a slight creak, House grimaces. Drinking half a bottle of scotch has left its mark. Nonetheless, he is completely distracted by the sight of a topless Wilson who smiles at him as if he had just had a quiet evening and a good nights sleep.

 

“Morning!”, Wilson answers.

 

This is it. This is the moment that determines if this was just a one night stand or maybe something else, something, they both want.

 

House walks over as nonchalantly as he can, getting right into Wilson's personal space without touching him. He is going to let him determine what he wants. After all, he is the young, handsome one.

Apparently, what he wants is to kiss him. Wilson leans in touching House's neck and pulling him closer for a kiss that is quite different than those of last night. This one is slow, meaningful. It's not leading to anything. It's just... appreciative, intimate. House gets lost. He grabs Wilson's waist and pulls him closer while not changing the pace or the intention of the kiss. He just wants to hold him. Feel that he's there, that he still wants him not only in the way he did last night.

 

He smells burning pancake.

 

“Oh shit”, Wilson hisses, breaking off the kiss to tend to the pan.

 

“That was not quite the reaction I hoped for.”

 

Wilson shoots him a look and House sits down at the table. There is some syrup and also some strawberries on it. House looks at them.

 

“I didn't have any of this stuff here last night. Did you go out and buy this?”

 

Wilson shrugs. “You didn't have anything to eat.”

 

“Wait a minute! Are you wooing me?” House sounds mocking but there actually is a slight tingle in his stomach.

 

Wilson shoots him an over the shoulder glance and a quick smile. “Maybe I am.”

 

The young doctor has his back turned to him as he retrieves the pancake and pours new batter into the pan.

 

“So, what do you want to do today?”, House asks, phrasing his question that way deliberately. He isn't going to use the word 'we' after one night.

 

“I thought about actually going to some lectures.”

 

There it is.

 

“If you want to?” He adds.

 

Oh.

 

“You realise that I am going to bitch about them the whole way through?”, House asks with mock curiosity.

 

“Oh, I'm aware...”

 

-

 

It's really fun. Wilson snickers and smiles at his quips, all without ever approving of them verbally. Nevertheless, he looks at House as if they are in class and he is the only student smart enough to question the teacher. When House is called out by one of the people on the nearby seats, Wilson apologises to them sincerely. It is truly a thing to behold!

 

In the evening, they order Chinese food and eat in bed, while watching TV. Wilson makes a fuss about not soiling the sheets, so much so that House drops his food on them deliberately. “Seriously?”, Wilson asks, but he seems more relaxed afterwards. When he drops a noodle, he just picks it up and eats it without further comment.

 

-

 

The conference is over far too quickly. Soon enough, they stand in House's room, saying their goodbyes.

 

“That was the most fun I've had in a long time”, Wilson says.

 

“Yeah, the sex was pretty good!” House smiles as Wilson blushes slightly.

 

“Will you give me your number, so I can call you?” The young man looks as if this isn't even a question, as if House has to say yes.

 

“No.”

 

There is a pause.

 

“What?”

 

“I'm sorry but no.”

 

“Why?”, Wilson stares at him in disbelieve. He looks more than ever like a kicked puppy.

 

“These last few days were really good. I don't want to ruin it. For some reason, you seem to be the perfect match for me. You're smart, laugh at all of my jokes. You approve of my honesty and even seem to like me for it and not despite it. You're young and handsome. You're everything I want. This was good. If it goes on any longer, I'll ruin it. Maybe you'll realise that being a jerk is fun sometimes but not all the time, maybe I say something too insensitive and you resent me. Either way, I'm going to ruin it, likely sooner rather than later. I cannot have that.”

 

The more he speaks, the more Wilson's disbelieving frown deepens.

 

“Well, that was a load of crap”, he says as soon as House is finished: “Just give me your number.”

 

House sighs deeply. He grabs Wilson's phone out of his hand and starts typing. After he is finished, Wilson examines his face before dialling.

 

Well, shit!

 

His piercing gaze is fixed on House as he holds the phone to his ear, waiting. When he eventually seems to hear something, he does an exasperated eye-roll and hangs up.

 

“I asked for your number not the one of the Chinese delivery service. Tough, I'm impressed that you memorised it after using it only one time.”

 

“Fine!” House snatches the phone and starts typing again.

 

“You realise that I am going to call that number as well?”

 

House shoots him a death glare, before erasing everything and typing in his actual phone number.

 

“Here you go! Happy?” He tosses the phone to Wilson who barely catches it.

 

“I'll see.” He presses the button to dial and holds the phone to his ear. A moment later there is a ringing sound from the other room.

 

“Good”, Wilson says, letting the phone slip back into his pocket: “You better pick up when I call.”

 

“Fine!” House sounds angry but there is some desperation as well. He hates it.

 

Before he can say another word, Wilson pulls him into a final kiss. It's hot and desperate and suddenly House doesn't feel as bad.

 

“I'll call you”, Wilson says. A promise.

 

“Okay.”

 

-

 

Wilson calls him only a few hours later. “Hello”, he says.

 

“Hi.”

 

“I just wanted to see if you would pick up.

 

“I guess, I would.”

 

There is a moment of silence.

 

“Okay.” Then, Wilson hangs up. House can't help himself but smile.

 

Chapter Text

Wilson calls him a few days later. House let's it ring for a moment before answering.

 

“You've reached Doctor Gregory House”, he says.

 

“Hello.” Wilson's voice sounds a bit unsure. “I just wanted to call and say that I'm free next weekend, in case you want to meet?”

 

House pretends to think about it. “Yeah, next weekend would work.”

 

“Good.” There is a pause. “Where should we meet? Do you want me to come to your place?”

 

“Sure, why not.”

 

“Okay.”

 

“I'll send you the address.”

 

“Okay.”

 

“Everything all right?”

 

“What? No, perfect. I'll see you on Friday.”

 

Wilson hangs up. House stares at the phone for a moment, before sending a text with his address. He can't help but feel nervous.

 

-

 

Wilson rings the bell at exactly 8PM, right on time. House had changed his clothes three times, before changing back into what he'd been wearing all day. Why put up any amount of pretence? When he opens the door, he curses himself.

 

Wilson is wearing a green polo shirt of which the buttons have been left open and a pair of jeans. He looks positively hot. House stares at him.

 

“Hi”, Wilson says a bit unsure. His head is slightly tilted downwards which exaggerates the fact that he has to look up at House. He steps forward.

 

“Hi.” This is awkward. They both don't know what to do. Shit! House has to do something! He stretches out his hand and pulls the young man in for a kiss. Immediately, he can feel Wilson's shoulders relax. Wilson grabs his shirt and pushes against him, shoves him into the flat, crossing the doorstep. House swings the door shut while still holding onto Wilson.

 

“So, this is my hallway”, he says between kisses.

 

“Fascinating!” Wilson barely lets him speak. “Where's your bedroom?”

 

-

 

They are lying in bed together. This time Wilson isn't asleep. He is pressed against House's side, left arm on his torso, head resting on House's shoulder. House's hand is in Wilson's hair, slightly moving.

 

“I've missed you”, Wilson says in a soft voice.

 

“I noticed.”

 

Wilson raises his head to look at him. “Not only the sex, but you.”

 

“I'm honoured.”

 

“When I came home, Sam and I had a huge fight. I told her to shut up and she became hysterical. I apologised a thousand times, but she wouldn't let it go. I feel like I've told you to shut up at least once every day and you've never complained...”

 

“I just let it fester until it breaks out all at once and I shave your head while you are sleeping”, House says as earnestly as he can.

 

Wilson smiles. “No, you don't.”

 

It's silent for a moment.

 

“I sleep in a hotel now”, Wilson adds: “It's not as nice as you might think.”

 

House thinks. Long and hard.

 

“House? You still awake?”

 

“Maybe you could live with me.”

 

Wilson's hand slides up his torso, as the young man props himself up on his elbow to get a full look at his face. “You're joking!”, he says.

 

“Why? You need somewhere to stay, I have plenty of space.”

 

“You didn't even want to give me your phone number and now you are asking me to move in with you? After knowing me for what, a weekend? That's crazy!”

 

“It is. But this way we'll know straight away if this works or not.”

 

This is it. Now Wilson is going to leave.

 

“Okay.”

 

“What?”, House stares at him in disbelieve.

 

“You're right. Why not? If this goes horribly wrong, I can still look for a new place.”

 

House blinks. “You're insane! I could be a serial killer for all you know!”

 

“I think you would have told me, if you were.”

 

The smile on Wilson's face is an easy one, careless. House doesn't know what to say.

 

“Okay.”

 

“I'm going to pay you half of the rent and the money I owe you for bailing me out.” Wilson sounds determined.

 

“I think you have paid me back for that plenty”, House says with a smirk. Wilson frowns.

 

“I'm not going to be your live-in maid who cleans and cooks. I'm going to pay the rent just as anyone else would.”

 

“I was more thinking live-in sex slave, but if you insist...”

 

“I do!” Wilson bends down to press a kiss against his lips. “Thank you!”

 

It all goes much better than they both expected. Wilson does indeed do a lot of cooking and cleaning but he complains so frequently to House about it, that he never starts harbouring a grudge. House realises pretty quickly that Wilson is an excellent sparring partner when it comes to blaming stuff on each other but despite all of that, Wilson apparently never stays angry at him for anything at all. House steals his food and uses his toothbrush to clean his shoes but as long as he puts the milk deep into the fridge and not the door, they seem to be fine.

Sometimes, House drives home during the day and tapes Wilson's favourite show. After all, he can still both talk to his team and avoid the patient over the phone.

 

When there is an opening in the oncology department at Princeton-Plainsboro, he suggests that Wilson should apply.

 

-

 

“I got the job!”, Wilson says, letting himself fall down on the couch next to House. Leaning against his boyfriend, he raises his feet onto the couch as well.

 

“Told you, she would hire you. Cuddy likes the thought of having someone at work who can handle me.”

 

Wilson frowns. “I don't handle you. You barely listen to anything I say.”

 

“But she doesn't know that.”

 

House throws an arm around him and starts brushing his hand through Wilson's hair.

 

“I can see why you like her”, Wilson goes on: “She has a strong character. She's also very attractive.”

 

“All real”, House remarks.

 

“You slept with her?”

 

“One time. That bother you?”

 

“Not really. Did you tape my soap?” Wilson raises his left arm to get House's hand out of his hair and intertwine their fingers. House smiles.

 

“Taped and ready.”

 

-

 

It takes a bit more than a month for Wilson to show up in his office with a case. File in hand, he walks in and is immediately met by three interested and one fond look.

 

“I got a case for you.” He says, raising the file.

 

House turns and gives his team the once-over. “Before any rumours start: Yes, ladies and gentlemen, this incredibly handsome, young doctor is my boyfriend.” He looks back at Wilson: “Why don't you come over here and kiss me to confirm?”

 

Wilson raises his eyebrows. He looks at the team, then at House. There is a mischievous expression on his face. 'I see what you are trying to do', it seems to say: 'If you are trying to make me uncomfortable, you will fail.”

 

He walks over to House, eyes fixed only on him. As he reaches him, he hooks his foot behind the left hind leg of the chair House is sitting on and pulls it back in a swift motion so that he is father away from the table. In the next instance, he swing his left leg over both of House's and sits down in his lap, facing him. Grabbing his neck and face with both hands, he Kisses him in a manner that is very inappropriate for the workplace. As he pulls back, House stares at him, completely overwhelmed.

 

Wilson smiles. He gets up, tossing the file on the table. His gaze wanders over the team, then back to House.

 

“Good day”, he says, still with the mischievous smile on his face.

 

“You too”, House manages to say. His voice is very soft. He stares at Wilson as if he still couldn't believe it.

 

His team, very smartly, decides not to comment.

 

-

 

“We should get married”, House declares one evening. They are sitting on the couch together, playing video games.

 

Wilson continues to look at the screen. “You want free access to my bank account?”, he asks.

 

“I already have free access to your bank account through you. No. I think it's smart. We live together. We could save some taxes. And It would make you my proxy in medical emergencies. I trust you more than my family to know what I want and actually do it. So, why not?”

 

There is a moment of silence.

 

“You know, you don't have to make up all these reasons. You could just tell me you love me and that you want to get married.”

 

“You started it.”

 

Silence again. Wilson is focusing on the game intently.

 

“Fine!”, House says finally: “I love you and I want to show that through an antiquated, societally approved certificate, issued by the state that grants us legal advantages!” He bites his teeth together.

 

“There, was that so hard?”

 

“Yes!”

 

Wilson smiles and shakes his head. “I love you too, House, and I want to spend the rest of my life with you. So, yeah, why not get married?” He pauses before continuing in a sterner voice. “But I'm not taking your last name.”

 

“What?”

 

“You being able to call me 'House' is a level of narcissism I do not want to endorse. Especially during sex.”

 

House smirks. There is a playful look on his face. “I could call you Jimmy...”

 

“Yeah. That's exactly what I want to hear when I'm fucking you...”

 

House pauses the game. “Oh, Jimmy! Oh, Yes, Jimmy. Give it to me, Jimmy!”, he pours.

 

Wilson shoots him a look. “If you don't shut up, I will!”, he threatens.

 

The mischievous smile on House's face is enough. Wilson grabs him and kisses him before he can even say another word.

 

“Wilson”, House says as soon as he can speak again.

 

Wilson smiles. “House”, he says: “Let's get married.”

 

“Oka! Who's going to be best man?”

 

“Dibs on Cuddy.”

 

House frowns. “Fine, I'll take Stacy.”

 

“So the two best men at our wedding will be women? That's very cliché.”

 

“I don't care”, House says and kisses him again. And it's true, he doesn't care, as long as Wilson is with him.

 

-

 

House's leg hurts. It hurts so much, he thinks he is going to die. Wilson drives him to the hospital but they can't find what's wrong with it. Every second is pure agony. When they finally figure it out, it's too late, his muscle is as good as dead.

But, of course, House has an idea. He always does. He lets himself be put into a coma so that he doesn't have to endure the pain. Save his leg. There will be no amputation.

 

“It's all going to be fine”, he says, holding Wilson's hand. Looking into those concerned, caring brown eyes. Maybe for the last time.

 

“I love you”, Wilson says.

 

“I'll see you later.” Then, House is asleep.

 

Wilson looks at him. Heartbroken. There's nothing he can do.

 

Cuddy walks in. She sees what has happened and puts her hand on Wilson's shoulder.

 

“There might be another option”, she says.

 

Wilson looks up at her with what House calls his 'puppy dog stare'.

 

“What do you mean?”

 

“We could remove part of his dead muscle. It would be a middle way between what he is trying to do now and amputation. He would be able to walk but most likely, he'd be in constant pain.”

 

Wilson looks at House, at his peaceful expression. He remembers the conversation they had.

 

“No”, Wilson's voice sounds sure: “That's not what he wants.”

 

Cuddy stays persistent. “There is a high chance that he will die while being in this coma. Removing part of the muscle might be the only way to save his life. I know he is stubborn but you are his husband. Right now, it's your decision.”

 

“No. It's his leg. His decision.” Wilson can feel the tears build up in his eyes.

 

“It's very likely that this will kill him.”

 

“I know. But if I do this against his will, he'll wonder for the rest of his life what it would have been like, if it would have worked. I cannot do this to him!”

 

Cuddy removes her hand from his shoulder. Suddenly, she sounds angry. “This is madness! You are supporting his self destructive, totally irrational behaviour!”

 

“I'm his husband. That's my job.”

 

“No, your job is to take care of him.”

 

Wilson stares at her furiously. “I said no! Now leave me alone!”

 

Cuddy opens her mouth, then closes it. “As you wish”, she says and leaves.

 

Wilson collapses on the nearest chair. His head buried in his hands, he starts to cry.

 

-

 

It's only the next morning that he hears a slight whisper.

 

“Wilson. Wilson.”

 

Wilson darts upwards, all tiredness forgotten.

 

“House!”, he says, grabbing his husband by the arm and shoulder: “You're awake! It worked! Oh, thank God!”

 

“I don't know what God should have to do with that, but if you insist...” House still sounds very weak.

 

“Oh, shut up!” Wilson is smiling brightly. His eyes are sparkling in the light. It makes him look so incredibly young. “This was the hardest thing I've ever done! They told me you would die. And now... you were right! I did the right thing!”

 

“That's quite the relive.”

 

House raises his hand to grab Wilson's forearm.

 

“Thank you”, he says very sincerely: “For doing what I wanted and not letting them get to you. I love you.”

 

“I love you too! Always have and always will.”

 

House smiles. He is truly a very lucky man.