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Cross To Bear
by Suggsygirl
House slowly emerged from his cocoon of sleep and found himself in a whole new level of agony. His leg throbbed, sending huge pulses of pain through his nerve endings, taking his breath away with their intensity. He turned his head to the side and saw the pill bottle on his bedside table right where he left it. He thrust out his hand, his fingers outstretched and tried to grab the bottle without moving his body. His finger grazed the side of the container, it wobbled and then stilled. He tried again and fumbled. The bottle slid onto it's side and rolled off the table, bouncing on the wooden floor. He tried to stifle a sob of frustration and then exclaimed. "Goddamnit!"
He took a deep breath and moved to sit, He gasped as the pain crashed over him in waves. Slowly he maneuvered himself so he was sitting on the edge of the bed. He looked for his pills, eyes darting frantically for his lifeline. Finally he spotted them, resting against his cane. He bent down to pick up the bottle, opened the lid and popped two, swallowing them dry. He closed his eyes and breathed deeply, knowing that the pain would ease soon.
He walked to the bathroom and took a shower. He turned the water as hot as he could stand, it felt like a thousand needles trying to pierce his skin. House sighed, he was tired of fighting, of being strong. He wished that he could just let it all go, have the shackles removed from him and be free from the daily torture of the pain.
He thought of Wilson. Imagined his face, saw his concern and the worry etched on his features. He felt guilty for putting that expression on his friends face. He imagined trying to apologize but the words wouldn't form in his head. He couldn't say he was sorry because, that meant admitting there was something to be sorry for.
He smiled as the pain began to dissipate, never leaving him but fading into the background, to a manageable hum.
He got out of the shower and ready for work. As much as he would never admit to Cuddy, his work was the one thing that kept him relatively sane. It provided a welcome distraction from the pain as well as giving him the opportunity to annoy as many people as possible.
Walking to his bike, he secured his cane and straddled the machine. Revving the engine he could feel the power between his legs and smiled at how cliched that was. He peeled away from the curb and drove like a maniac. He reveled as the thrill of each near miss made him feel more alive.
By the time he reached the hospital, his skin was tingling and his heart racing, He turned off the bike, dismounted, unclipped his cane and walked into the hospital to begin his day.
He negotiated the lobby and made his way to his office where his subordinates were waiting for him. He greeted them in typically cheery fashion. "What are you lot looking so pleased about?"
"Cameron and Chase have a little wager going on." Foreman answered, shooting a look at his colleagues who were giggling like school children. Foreman rolled his eyes at their immature behaviour.
House tried for a second to appear uninterested and then cracked. "C'mon, share with the group."
Cameron looked as though she wished to be anywhere but in that room. Chase just stared all wide eyed.
"Chase says you and Wilson are having sex. Cameron says you're not." Foreman answered, clearly loving Cameron and Chase's discomfort.
"Hmm and how do you decide who wins?" House inquired. "I mean does one of you have to catch me, fucking a naked, handcuffed Wilson on Cuddys desk while dressed as a prison guard?" House closed his eyes as if savouring the image.
Cameron blushed crimson and Chase stood with his mouth gaping open like a fish, he recovered enough to ask. "Well, so erm... are you and Wilson... involved?"
"Of course we're involved, we're best friends. I'm afraid you'll have to be more specific than that." House sat back and smiled, enjoying the uncomfortable silence and the ambivalent expressions on his underlings faces.
"Are you having a sexual relationship with Dr. James Wilson?" Foreman was the first to articulate what they all were thinking.
House cocked his head to one side and pretended to consider the question. After a few moments he replied. "None of your business."
The whole room seemed to release it's collective breath.
"Now, do we have any patients?" House looked to the ceiling, crossed his fingers and muttered under his breath. "Say no, say no, say no."
"I have a couple of interesting candidates but, no not at the moment." Cameron replied.
Chase smirked and said. "Plenty of time to go visit Dr. Wilson."
House looked surprised. "Do you have a death wish Dr. Chase? Or maybe you're jealous? Perhaps you have a forbidden crush on the ruggedly handsome older doctor? You only had to say." House winked at Chase.
Cuddy appeared in the doorway. "Aw, you guys are having a little chat, sweet. Unfortunately this isn't junior high school. House can tell you all later about the oh-so-hot boy he has a crush on, now though he has to play grown up." She ordered House. "Clinic. now."
House replied. "Yes Dr. Chase. Clinic."
Dr. Cuddy stood with her hands on her hips and sighed deeply. "Dr. House get to the clinic now, or your cane will have to be surgically removed."
House smiled. "I'd love to, but unfortunately we have a patient. Can I just say your blouse bunnies look particularly peachy today."
Cuddy looked around the room, the three young doctors studiously avoided her gaze. "Do you have any patients? Before you answer, let me make myself perfectly clear, anyone who lies to me will do double clinic hours."
Foreman answered first. "No."
Followed quickly by Cameron and Chase in unison. "No."
A brief look of superiority passed over Cuddy's features then she turned on her heels and marched off down the corridor.
House looked over at the three shame faced colleagues. "Children, you betrayed Daddy and I'm afraid you're going to be punished." House pointed his cane at them in a threatening manner and stormed to the door. "Be very afraid."
House made his way reluctantly to the clinic. He opened the door to exam room 3 and walked into the room, reading a chart. "So... Miss. Parker. What entirely inconsequential illness do we have today?"
No answer was forthcoming. House sighed, took the bottle out of his pocket and popped a pill. He looked up at the woman sitting in front of him. She was young looking but House guessed at mid thirties, with long, dark hair and dazzling green eyes. Her skin was flushed and her breathing was noisy and labored. House took a few steps towards her. "I can't treat you if you won't talk to me."
The woman looked at him as though he were from another planet. House started to feel very uneasy. "Well, clearly you need to talk to someone who isn't me, so I'll just go and..."
"I, erm... have back pain. It really hurts." The woman interrupted.
"Well yes, pain tends to cause hurt, as we doctors call it." House wondered how these people functioned through life, with the brain capacity of a carrot. "How did you injure your back?"
"I fell... I was horseriding and I fell." She stammered
"Well, that'll do it." House had a cursory feel of her back. "I think it's just a bruise, just rest and take regular painkillers." House turned to leave.
"I've tried that and they don't work. I need something stronger."
House started to get the picture of this woman's true problem. He recognized the signs of withdrawal and started to feel on edge. He realised he had to handle this situation delicately, hardly his forte. He started. "I think you need..."
House didn't even see her move, just a flash of silver. He tried to turn but she was up against him, knife pressed to his throat, the point resting against the skin directly over his carotid artery. Her breath sounded harsh in his ears.
House felt a spike of adrenaline shoot through him, his legs almost buckled and his hands shook. He tried to speak but couldn't, his cane clattered to the floor, the noise like a thunderclap. The blood rushed in his ears and his senses heightened, he felt pure, unadulterated fear.
The womans voice was low and amazingly steady. "Help me get drugs or I swear I'll kill you."
The woman's composure was rapidly slipping, House could feel the point of the knife shaking against his throat and tried to remain as motionless as possible. The adrenaline coursing through his veins made his heatbeat seem unbelievably loud. He was convinced the woman must be able to hear it. Time seemed to grind to a halt and the strangest thoughts crossed his mind. What were his colleagues doing, right at this moment? What was Wilson doing? Would the blood from his cut throat match his shirt?
The woman broke through his reverie. "How am I going to do this? God what am I doing?"
Her hands were becoming increasingly shaky as she seemed to war with herself. House pleaded with a God he didn't believe in, to not let her slip. To let this be over soon. He decided his only option was trying to talk to this woman. Maybe House could get her to see sense. To let him go. He cleared his throat and opened his mouth to speak.
He was prevented from speaking by the insistent beep of his pager. The woman jolted at the noise and the point of the knife nicked House's skin. He could feel the trickle of blood slide down his neck, his fear rose a few notches.
"Give it to me." The woman ordered.
House slowly unclipped the pager from his belt and passed it to her without attempting to look at the message.
She put the pager in front of his face and said. "Who is this and what do they want?"
House tried to look at the small screen, the woman's hand was shaking so badly the words appeared blurred. After a few moments he managed to comprehend the message. He silently cursed but said. "I'm being paged, to give a consult on a patient."
The woman thought about this. "What will they do when you don't reply?"
House knew that they would probably do nothing for a good half an hour, his colleagues were well used to his creative timekeeping. To the woman he said. "When I don't respond they'll come to look for me."
"Shit. Okay phone them and tell them you can't consult. Is that what you'd do?" She bit her bottom lip and looked uncertain.
"Well, standing here with a knife to my throat is not normally what I'd do. So I can't answer your question." House started to get exasperated.
He shuffled over to the phone, the knife never leaving his throat. He called Wilson, hoping that his friend truly knew him as well as he always claimed.
"Wilson." Wilson answered his phone in a ridiculously chipper voice.
House felt his stomach flip hearing his friends voice and feeling the sharp steel biting into his flesh.
"You paged me." House tried to keep his voice as steady as possible.
"Wow, you answered a page, what's wrong with you? Are you feeling okay?" Wilson teased.
House felt the knife shift and swallowed hard. He mentally urged Wilson to be telepathic and replied. "Listen, I can't consult, I'm busy at the moment."
"House, Are you okay?" Wilson sounded concerned.
"Just have an interesting clinic patient. I'm sure you'll cope without me." House blinked a bead of sweat from his eye.
"Interesting clinic patient? Has hell frozen over?" Wilson's voice took on an incredulous, yet worried tone.
House knew Wilson was getting that something was wrong.
"House I'm coming down there." Wilson's voice was hurried.
House didn't know what Wilson would do when he walked into the situation, but just knowing he was coming made House feel less jittery.
"Right, that's good, bye." House hung up the phone.
The woman seemed to gather herself together. Her hands steadied and she said. "Help me, I need the drugs. What am I gonna do?"
House decided now was the time to start talking. He also knew he was the worst person in the world, to try to talk himself out of a hostage situation. "Here, take this." House reached into his pocket and pulled out his Vicodin. He handed the bottle to the woman. "You can let me go now."
She looked at the few pills in the bottle and laughed. "You think I'm going to risk going to jail for a few Vicodin?"
House responded. "Lady you are going to jail. You seriously think you can hold someone hostage, in a packed hospital and then, just what? Walk out like nothing happened? All you had to do was be a better actress. Hell I probably would have just given you a real script if you'd told the truth. You could even have offered me sex for them, might have worked. Might still work. But no you had to shove a knife in my face. So now you have a choice, because the only question left, is exactly how long are you going to jail for?"
There was silence, it seemed to go on forever. House felt like he was in suspended animation. The world was going on without him at normal pace and he was trapped in a bubble, with this woman. Just when House thought they were going to stand there all day, the door opened. Wilson walked in and froze in his tracks.
House looked at his friend. Wilson's mouth hung open and he stared at House's neck. Not taking his eyes off the interface between steel and skin.
"Who the fuck are you?" The woman screamed and grabbed House's arm pulling him backwards, the knife still at his throat, like she was a big cat defending her prey.
Wilson tried to placate the woman, hands held in the classic surrender position. "It's okay, I'm... not going to do anything."
The woman paused for a second. "You, go to the pharmacy and get me Oxycontin. If you try anything I promise you I will slit his throat."
Wilson backed out of the room and closed the door. House could feel the blood congealing on his neck, thick and sticky. He wondered what Wilson was doing, imagined the hive of activity outside the room. Wondered how this was going to end. Whether they could get to her before she pushed the knife deep in his throat. He imagined the blood rushing out of the wound, flowing down his body on to the polished floor.
Wilson came back to the room carrying a pill bottle. He threw it to her and she held it up to the light, as if she was examining a precious stone. She seemed satisfied with the contents and pulled House towards the door.
"Right I'm taking you to the exit. Don't try anything."
House wondered if she was really so stupid, that she would think that the police wouldn't be waiting for her. He decided he didn't care as long as she let him go. It seemed like they had been in the exam room for hours. They shuffled towards the door and out into the waiting room. Every eye was on them. Patients gawped at the spectacle. Nobody moved. House's eyes flicked over the people standing around. No security, no police. He briefly wondered whether Wilson had called them. They got to the door leading out of the hospital. The woman looked left and right and seeing no one she ran. House saw a cop step out from behind a parked car and tackle her. House turned and walked back through the hospital doors.
His leg ached from not having his cane which was still laying on the floor of the exam room. Suddenly House's leg buckled under him, Wilson caught him before he hit the floor. House felt Wilson's arms wrap around him and he buried his face in his friends neck.
"C'mon House, let's go."
Wilson helped House to his car. House let him
House stared out of the car window as Wilson drove, so exhausted, he could barely hold his head up. His leg seemed to throb in time with the purr of the engine, making his nerves jangle. Thoughts flowed and ebbed through his mind with no control, no conclusion.
Wilson for the most part, stared straight ahead, keeping his eyes on the road. He ocassionally flicked them over House, a worried expression on his face. House felt like he was drowning, every moment pulling him further from the surface. The journey passed in silence.
Wilson pulled up outside House's apartment and switched off the engine. Silence engulfed the car, like a blanket, smothering sound. Wilson sighed, deep and low, House turned to look at him and then moved to leave the car. "Thanks, I'll see you tomorrow."
Wilson looked horrified, his eyes widened. "Hey, I'm not leaving. You're in shock." He opened the driver's door and moved to the passenger side of the vehicle. House remained seated, looking up at him.
"I'm not a child, I don't need babysitting." House said vehemently.
"I know you don't like accepting help, but, please just this once, let me do this."
House sighed and dipped his head. He got out of the car and resting heavily on Wilson, they made their way to the apartment.
Once inside, Wilson guided House to the couch and asked. "Where's your first aid kit? Your neck needs cleaning up."
House raised his eyebrows.
"Oh, right sorry I was confusing you for a normal person. I'll make do." Wilson walked off into the bathroom.
House could hear cupboards slamming and drawers opening, He smiled to himself as he thought of Wilson, dressed as a nurse, doing his Florence Nightingale impression. Wilson came back carrying a bowl of water, washcloth, towel and some band aids. He knelt in front of House and dipped the washcloth in the water. House tilted his head to one side, giving Wilson access to his neck. House was suddenly struck by how intimate that gesture was. Wilson gently rubbed the washcloth over the trail of blood on House's throat. He furrowed his brow as he worked, dipping the washcloth in the water several times until House's neck was clean. Wilson pushed the bowl to one side and tenderly patted dry, the damp skin of House's throat.
"Wilson..." House's voice was low and gentle.
Wilson stilled as House brought his hand up and placed it over Wilson's resting against his throat. House felt the slight tremble in Wilson's fingers as he gripped the towel. He looked into his friend's face, seeing the uncertainty in his brown eyes. "Thanks."
Wilson smiled and House knew that he understood, exactly how difficult to say that one word had been.
House took his hand away, Wilson opened the band aid and placed it gently over the damaged skin.
Wilson stood and took away the bowl and other items. Coming back to stand in front of House, he asked "Drink?"
"Yeah." House answered.
Wilson fixed a Scotch and handed it to House who knocked it back in one gulp. He handed the glass back to Wilson and indicated he wanted another. Wilson shot him a questioning look but filled the glass again. He handed the glass back to House, giving him a warning glare. House took a single sip and put the glass down.
Wilson sat beside House on the couch. House looked over and smirked. "God, at least take the tie off, you're making me tense."
"Are you trying to get me naked?" Wilson joked.
House laughed then leered theatrically. "Yeah, I like my nurses naked."
Wilson raised his eyebrows. "Nurse? If you think I'm giving you a sponge bath, you're mistaken."
House pouted. "You're no fun."
They sat in companionable silence, Wilson turned on the TV and started flicking through the channels. House suddenly had a thought. "Did you tell Cuddy what happened?"
Wilson answered. "Yeah, she said to take a few days off."
House considered this. "Did she give you time off?"
Wilson paused before answering cautiously. "Yeah, she thought maybe you'd want company."
House pondered. "I wonder whether she thinks we're fucking too."
Wilson choked on thin air. "What?" then he asked. "Did you say, too? who else thinks we're... fucking?"
House shook his head in wry amusement at Wilson's reaction. "Presumably, most of the hospital but, specifically, Chase."
"How do you know?" Wilson's eyes were wide.
"Foreman told me earlier, that Chase and Cameron have a wager, as to whether or not we are 'having sex.' I pointed out the obvious flaw, that they'd have to catch us."
"Not the obvious flaw that we're not?" Wilson said incredulously
House shrugged. "Where would the fun have been in that?" House continued. "It keeps them happy, having something to gossip about. Why let the truth get in the way of a good story?"
Wilson sat open mouthed then said. "So you're perfectly happy with people thinking that we're having sex?"
"Yup." House nodded. "You're not I take it?"
Wilson considered House's question. "It's weird, I'm gonna be paranoid now that people are analyzing our every interaction, looking for clues."
House got an idea and looked imploringly at Wilson. "Let's mess with them" He fluttered his eyelashes dramatically. "Please." He added. "It will help me get over the shock of today."
Wilson shook his head. "Oh, that's low. I can see you're feeling better. I'll think about it."
House seemed satisfied with Wilson's response. They spent the rest of the evening, watching DVD's, arguing and eating Chinese food. Wilson even rolled his sleeves up he was so relaxed.
Hours passed, House clicked off the TV and turned to Wilson. "You staying here?"
"If that's okay." Wilson replied
"You know where the blankets are, I'm going to bed." House got up and made his way to the bedroom. As he reached the door, he turned and said. "I appreciate you staying. Let's never speak of it again."
Wilson nodded once and got up to get the blankets, settling himself on the couch.
House turned off the light and closed his eyes, disjointed images swimming through his mind until, he finally succumbed to sleep.
House awoke with a start, a thin film of sweat covering his body. He was breathing heavily and his heart raced. He struggled to recall the dream that had caused him to wake so suddenly, but he couldn't pin it down and it evaporated. He wiped a hand across his brow and tried to steady his breathing.
"House?" Wilson called softly.
House looked up, Wilson was stood in the doorway to the bedroom. House couldn't see his facial expression, but worry emanated from him.
"Are you okay?" Wilson stepped into the room.
House opened his mouth and tried to reassure him, but he suddenly felt overwhelmingly not okay. "I, I don't know."
Wilson hesitated and then walked across the room and sat on the empty side of House's bed. "Do you want to talk about it?"
"I don't know what to say." House admitted.
"Wow, I don't think that's ever happened before." Wilson joked, trying to lighten the atmosphere. He then questioned. "Are you in pain?"
"Always." House sadly replied.
Wilson got up and got one of House's pills from the bathroom, brought it back and gave it to House, who swallowed it gratefully. Wilson sat back on the bed and said. "Do you want me to leave?"
House whispered. "No." He laid back down and looked at the ceiling.
Wilson settled himself and silence descended on the room. House reached across the chasm that had formed between them and stroked Wilson's little finger with his own, tentatively with as little movement as possible.
Wilson turned to speak and House pre-empted him. "Don't, just... Don't."
Wilson laced his fingers with House's and stroked House's palm with his thumb. House held his breath, his fingers tingled with the contact and he felt like he was floating, untethered, directionless. Wilson reached over and cupped House's jaw. House released the breath he'd been holding as Wilson shifted position and placed his lips over House's. The kiss deepened and Wilson pressed his tongue into House's mouth. House moaned and wondered when Wilson had gotten so brave.
House could feel his heart pound as Wilson kissed him thoroughly. His mind was taken back to the exam room, where only a few hours ago his heart pounded in entirely different circumstances.
Wilson pulled back when he realised House was no longer participating, "House? Are you okay?"
House didn't know how to answer the question, he licked his lips, tasting Wilson. He tried to formulate the words but the silence grew until it was tangible, a living breathing entity. Wilson's fear was evident in his voice and his tactical withdrawal from House's personal space. "I'm sorry... I shouldn't have... I'm just sorry."
House felt the lack of warmth acutely and it spurred him to speak. "Wilson, I... I don't know what to think... what to do. I'm not one of your women."
Wilson paused. "If you seriously think this is some kind of experiment... That I would risk our friendship, for a quick fuck, because I haven't done a guy before, then you can fuck off!" Wilson's anger seemed to grow by the second. "I can't believe you would think that. I'm scared to death here..." Wilson's voice cracked, he paused and then regained his composure and continued. "Why do you have to push, are you testing me?"
House heard the frustration and anxiety in Wilson's voice. The hitch in Wilson's breath as he tried desperately to reconcile what was happening between them. He wanted to comfort Wilson but had no idea how to start. "Wilson I just... I'm not used to... fuck."
Wilson sighed, seemingly appeased. "Wow, that was eloquent. Do you think I could get that on a greeting's card?"
House reached across the gap that had formed between them, he pulled Wilson towards him hard, plastering him to House's side. "Shut up."
Wilson smirked and whispered. "Make me."
House shifted position so half his body covered Wilson's and sealed their lips together. House threw himself into the kiss, licking Wilson's bottom lip in a deliberate manner, causing Wilson to moan loudly. House smiled against Wilson's lips and murmured "God, you're a whore."
In answer, Wilson spread his legs in a wanton fashion and licked his lips lasciviously whilst staring into House's eyes. This time it was House who moaned, leaning down to capture Wilson's lips again in a dirty, lewd kiss.
House grabbed one of Wilson's wrists and pinned it to the bed, Wilson writhed and tried ineffectually to free it. House questioned. "Do you like to be held down? Like feeling my weight on top of you?"
Wilson replied unashamedly. "Oh God, yeah."
House rolled on top of him, carefully arranging his bad leg between Wilson's before capturing both of his wrists and pushing them into the bed. Wilson craned his neck to appropriate House's lips, House pulled back slightly, laughing as Wilson whimpered. House whispered into his mouth. "You're so mine."
Wilson ground his hips against House's in answer.
House suddenly moved off Wilson and sat up to remove his T-shirt and boxers, ordering Wilson in a husky voice. "Get naked, now."
Wilson hurriedly complied and laid back down. House assumed his previous position and they both gasped as flesh met flesh. They resumed their fevered kissing, House rubbing his thumbs over the tender skin of Wilson's wrists as he held them, firm to the mattress. House pushed his tongue into Wilson's mouth, grinding his hips with the same rhythm. He felt Wilson's erection, pressed against his own. The friction felt delicious and House let out a stream of dirty thoughts. "God Wilson, wanna fuck you. Wanna feel your tight, heat... Feel your mouth on me. Watch you come..."
Wilson wrapped one leg around House's hips and bit his bottom lip, pushing their cocks together tighter. House let go of his wrists and Wilson immediately thrust one hand in House's hair, the other, snaking it's way down to wrap around both their erections. House muttered breathlessly against Wilson's lips. "Christ, you're so fucking sexy like this." He kissed him hard, thrusting his tongue to explore Wilson's mouth and then flicking it over his lips, pulling back to whisper. "All raw and debauched... Fuck..."
Wilson began to move his hand, pressing their cocks together, twisting his wrist and feeling the slick, sweaty, skin, sliding in his palm. House groaned and bit his neck, laving the wound with his tongue. Wilson let go of their cocks and ran his hand down House's back. Moving the leg wrapped around House's hip, he grabbed his ass with both hands and squeezed, pulling House further against him.
House licked a trail down Wilson's neck, blowing on the wet skin, leaving gooseflesh. Wilson gasped as House bit his collar bone, sucking the skin and leaving a bruise. He murmured. "Mine." against Wilson's flesh.
Although it wasn't a question, Wilson answered anyway. "Yeah, all yours." Wilson spread his legs further to punctuate his meaning.
House growled and thrust his hips sharply, running a proprietary palm down Wilson's side and kissing him deeply.
They thrusted with wild abandon, building up an exquisite friction that had both men panting. Wilson ran his fingers over House's ass, exploring the muscle, kneading and caressing. Then he brought a hand up and separating from the kiss, encouraged House to suck his finger. House ran his tongue over the tip, swirling before sucking with a steady pressure. Wilson let out an involuntary moan. House released his finger and Wilson moved it back down to House's ass. He circled the tender hole before gently pushing in with his wet finger. House was already close to release. He thrust against Wilson a couple more times before his whole body went rigid. Wilson felt warmth, spurting against his belly and House sighed. After a few moments, House shifted his weight, running his hand down Wilson's body, he coated Wilson's straining erection in his own ejaculate and slowly, almost leisurely, wrapped his finger's around the shaft.
He paused, Wilson groaned in frustration. "Oh, fuck, House please."
Hearing the pleading tone in Wilson's voice, House moved his hand at a determined and steady pace. Increasing his ministrations when Wilson's breath hitched in his throat. It didn't take very long for Wilson to come in hot, pulsing spurts over House's hand.
Wilson got up and went to the bathroom, he came back with a towel and cleaned their mess up. He got back into bed and laid beside House. They both stared at the ceiling. The seconds ticked by, neither spoke. Finally, Wilson bridged the gap, twined their fingers together and said. "Please let me tell Cameron, she lost the bet."
House replied "Nah, much more fun to let them catch us."
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."
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Legal Disclaimer: The authors published here make no claims on the ownership of Dr. Gregory House and the other fictional residents of Princeton-Plainsboro Teaching Hospital. Like the television show House (and quite possibly Dr. Wilson's pocket protector), they are the property of NBC/Universal, David Shore and undoubtedly other individuals of whom I am only peripherally aware. The fan fiction authors published here receive no monetary benefit from their work and intend no copyright infringement nor slight to the actual owners. We love the characters and we love the show, otherwise we wouldn't be here.
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