House M.D. stuffs
So chapter two arises from the dust of my cluttered mind!
Title: Delicate
Chapter: One is the Lonliest Number (two)
Rating: PG-13 (Man lovin')
Disclaimer: I wish I owned this stuff, then maybe I wouldn't be so poor..
Summary: House is changed in a way that no one could have seen coming, and Wilson is left to pick up and take care of what's remaining. Can he handle it?
Warnings: sick!vulnerable!House, House/Wilson slash.
Linkage to chap. 1
“Jimmy?”
Wilson rolled over in his bead to find House standing in the doorway, his hands fisted in his t-shirt. His mouth was contorted in a grimace, and Wilson was sure if he could see through the dark, he would be met with bloodshot eyes. “Yeah?”
“I had another nightmare.”
“Okay, come here.” His words were slurred with sleep and he motioned for House to climb into his bed with the least effort possible. He waited for the man to hobble over and snuggle under the sheets before he ran a hand through House’s hair. “When are you going to tell me what these dreams are about?”
“Never.” His reply was muffled by Wilson’s chest, but he still heard it.
“I don’t understand. How can I help you if I don’t know what they’re about?”
House shook his head and pressed into Wilson’s chest. “I’m sorry.” Wilson wished he would stop apologizing. It was almost as bad as the crying. House’s hands wrapped around Wilson’s torso, and regardless of the situation, Wilson’s body ignored his mind. He knew this wasn’t the same House he had slept with weeks ago. He knew this was different man than the one who had made love to him in an office with a closed door. He knew this was a different House than the one who had broken his heart. But heat still pooled in his stomach and he pulled his hips away from House, trying to free himself from the death grip the man had on him.
“I just have to go to the bathroom, House. Will you be okay for a few minutes?”
House nodded against him and relinquished his grasp before wrapping his arms around Wilson’s neck. “I love you.” His words were those of a child. No lust, just pure affection and appreciation. Wilson swallowed the lump in his throat as his eyes began to tear up. He nodded and tried to push the words out.
“I love you, too, House.” He shot out of the bed as fast as he could and rushed to the bathroom. Sitting on the toilet, he worked himself out of his pyjama pants, it had been so long, he felt awful about doing this, about being turned on by a man who didn’t even understand what “turn on” meant. But he couldn’t help it.
“Wilson, somebody will hear us.” House’s body was tensed over the desk, his pants down around his ankles, leaning on his cane for support. Wilson stood behind him, smiling, naked from the waist down as well, his tie tossed over his shoulder, kept out of the way.
“No they won’t. Just don’t make any noise.”
House let out a noise that was a cross between a whimper and a laugh as Wilson slipped a finger inside of him. He shifted his weight to the left and Wilson could see him biting his lip in the reflection on the computer screen. He was impatient.
Wilson dropped his hand to the side of his thigh and slumped over himself on the toilet. He couldn’t fathom what he had just done. Tears dropped onto his thighs and he sucked in a warbled breath. It was on shaky legs that he rose and walked to the sink, wiping his hands and legs with a wet cloth, before splashing his face with some water. What had he gotten himself into?
A knock on the door shook him from his reverie. “Jimmy, are you okay?”
“Yeah. Just...um...just have an upset stomach.”
“Are you coming out now?”
“Sure.” He shut of the bathroom light and pushed the door open to find House on the other side, smiling nervously. “Why was your stomach upset? Did you do something wrong?”
Wilson bit back a chuckle. “No. No, that means I don’t feel well.”
“Oh.” House turned and flopped onto the bed, before rolling onto his back. “I’m not tired anymore. Are you?”
Wilson put a hand to back of his neck. “No, not really. Too much excitement for one night, huh? Do you want some tea?”
House nodded.
“Okay, but I’ll only let you have some if you use your cane to get to the kitchen.”
“Ugh!” He threw his hands up in aggravation. “I hate that thing!”
“I know you do.” Wilson sat beside him on the bed, and traced lazy lines over House’s arms. “But trust me, you just have to get used to it, and it will make walking much easier for you. Just try it for a week, and if you still hate it, I promise I won’t ever bring it up again. Okay? And if you like using it, we can go buy you a new one. You can pick it out, and everything.” When had House ever been above bribery?
“Promise?”
“I swear. Now, where did you leave it last?”
“It’s beside the piano.”
“Were you playing the piano?” Wilson tried to hide the excitement from his voice.
“Nope. Just looking.”
“Alright,” he sighed, he didn’t want House to think he was upset with him, “you just wait here while I go and get it for you, okay?”
“Okay.”
When Wilson got back to the bedroom with his cane, House had collapsed onto the bed and his breath was coming out in even huffs, he was obviously asleep without the sedative of tea. Wilson dropped the cane to the floor with a quiet clatter and clambered onto the bed, slithering beside House’s prone form. He tugged the man up so that his feet weren’t hanging off the edge and supported Houses’ lolling head with his chest. Running his fingers through the man’s hair, he let sleep take over.
The alarm clock was an unwelcome intrusion to sleep after days of not using it. House rolled over and groaned, pulling a pillow over his head. Wilson jammed down on three buttons before he finally hit the right one. Rubbing the sleep out of his eyes, he remembered that he had to work today. Shower. Eat. Get House in the car. It seemed easy enough. And the first to portions of his morning went smoothly. But when the time came to coerce House out of the comfort of his bed, the older man didn’t want any part of it.
“Jimmy, I’m still tired,” he whimpered as Wilson pushed the cane into unwilling hands.
“I know, and you can sleep as soon as we get into the car. Here, help me put your coat on.”House obediently stuck his arms out so that Wilson could tug the fabric over them before buttoning the front. “Come on, I’ve got your bag already. I’ll just put your shoes on and then we can go, okay?”
“Mhm.” House held his feet still, and peered through hooded eyes as Wilson manoeuvred his shoes on. It had been so long since he had put somebody else’s shoes on. It was surprisingly difficult. He laced up the sneakers.
“Too tight?”
“Nope.”
Then slipped an arm under House’s armpit and helped him stand. House immediately planted the cane on the ground. “That’s right, come on.” The worked their way to the front door and then out to the car. Thankfully it wasn’t cold enough for there to be ice on the ground yet, but he could still see his breath in front of his face and knew it wouldn’t be too long before walking outside proved more difficult for House. He helped the man get into the passenger side of the car and watched his head drop onto his shoulder before getting in and starting the car. “It’ll warm up in here soon.” He was talking to a sleeping man, but the silence unnerved him. Any other time House had driven somewhere with him, House did the driving. And most of the talking.
The trip to the hospital felt like it took longer than it did. Wilson had to park a ways away from the entrance (he didn’t have the added bonus of being handicapped when it came to getting spots), and then helped a still sluggish House inside.
“Good morning,” Wilson tried to keep his voice upbeat as he greeted the admin nurse.
“Good morning Dr. Wilson,” she replied without looking up. She held out a stack of papers and files for him.
“Lots of messages then?” He smiled as he took them from her.
“Yes, well you were-“ She cut herself off when she looked up and saw who was leaning on Wilson. “Is that Dr. House? I thought he didn’t work here anymore.”
“He doesn’t,” Wilson replied cryptically, turning to go to the elevator.
“But then-“ the time it was Wilson who cut her off.
“Talk to Dr. Cuddy,” he told her without looking at her, as he pushed the up button on the elevator. House mumbled something, and Wilson looked at him. “We’re almost there buddy. I have a couch that you’ll love to sleep on.” You always used to, anyways.
Next Chapter
Title: Delicate
Chapter: One is the Lonliest Number (two)
Rating: PG-13 (Man lovin')
Disclaimer: I wish I owned this stuff, then maybe I wouldn't be so poor..
Summary: House is changed in a way that no one could have seen coming, and Wilson is left to pick up and take care of what's remaining. Can he handle it?
Warnings: sick!vulnerable!House, House/Wilson slash.
Linkage to chap. 1
“Jimmy?”
Wilson rolled over in his bead to find House standing in the doorway, his hands fisted in his t-shirt. His mouth was contorted in a grimace, and Wilson was sure if he could see through the dark, he would be met with bloodshot eyes. “Yeah?”
“I had another nightmare.”
“Okay, come here.” His words were slurred with sleep and he motioned for House to climb into his bed with the least effort possible. He waited for the man to hobble over and snuggle under the sheets before he ran a hand through House’s hair. “When are you going to tell me what these dreams are about?”
“Never.” His reply was muffled by Wilson’s chest, but he still heard it.
“I don’t understand. How can I help you if I don’t know what they’re about?”
House shook his head and pressed into Wilson’s chest. “I’m sorry.” Wilson wished he would stop apologizing. It was almost as bad as the crying. House’s hands wrapped around Wilson’s torso, and regardless of the situation, Wilson’s body ignored his mind. He knew this wasn’t the same House he had slept with weeks ago. He knew this was different man than the one who had made love to him in an office with a closed door. He knew this was a different House than the one who had broken his heart. But heat still pooled in his stomach and he pulled his hips away from House, trying to free himself from the death grip the man had on him.
“I just have to go to the bathroom, House. Will you be okay for a few minutes?”
House nodded against him and relinquished his grasp before wrapping his arms around Wilson’s neck. “I love you.” His words were those of a child. No lust, just pure affection and appreciation. Wilson swallowed the lump in his throat as his eyes began to tear up. He nodded and tried to push the words out.
“I love you, too, House.” He shot out of the bed as fast as he could and rushed to the bathroom. Sitting on the toilet, he worked himself out of his pyjama pants, it had been so long, he felt awful about doing this, about being turned on by a man who didn’t even understand what “turn on” meant. But he couldn’t help it.
“Wilson, somebody will hear us.” House’s body was tensed over the desk, his pants down around his ankles, leaning on his cane for support. Wilson stood behind him, smiling, naked from the waist down as well, his tie tossed over his shoulder, kept out of the way.
“No they won’t. Just don’t make any noise.”
House let out a noise that was a cross between a whimper and a laugh as Wilson slipped a finger inside of him. He shifted his weight to the left and Wilson could see him biting his lip in the reflection on the computer screen. He was impatient.
Wilson dropped his hand to the side of his thigh and slumped over himself on the toilet. He couldn’t fathom what he had just done. Tears dropped onto his thighs and he sucked in a warbled breath. It was on shaky legs that he rose and walked to the sink, wiping his hands and legs with a wet cloth, before splashing his face with some water. What had he gotten himself into?
A knock on the door shook him from his reverie. “Jimmy, are you okay?”
“Yeah. Just...um...just have an upset stomach.”
“Are you coming out now?”
“Sure.” He shut of the bathroom light and pushed the door open to find House on the other side, smiling nervously. “Why was your stomach upset? Did you do something wrong?”
Wilson bit back a chuckle. “No. No, that means I don’t feel well.”
“Oh.” House turned and flopped onto the bed, before rolling onto his back. “I’m not tired anymore. Are you?”
Wilson put a hand to back of his neck. “No, not really. Too much excitement for one night, huh? Do you want some tea?”
House nodded.
“Okay, but I’ll only let you have some if you use your cane to get to the kitchen.”
“Ugh!” He threw his hands up in aggravation. “I hate that thing!”
“I know you do.” Wilson sat beside him on the bed, and traced lazy lines over House’s arms. “But trust me, you just have to get used to it, and it will make walking much easier for you. Just try it for a week, and if you still hate it, I promise I won’t ever bring it up again. Okay? And if you like using it, we can go buy you a new one. You can pick it out, and everything.” When had House ever been above bribery?
“Promise?”
“I swear. Now, where did you leave it last?”
“It’s beside the piano.”
“Were you playing the piano?” Wilson tried to hide the excitement from his voice.
“Nope. Just looking.”
“Alright,” he sighed, he didn’t want House to think he was upset with him, “you just wait here while I go and get it for you, okay?”
“Okay.”
When Wilson got back to the bedroom with his cane, House had collapsed onto the bed and his breath was coming out in even huffs, he was obviously asleep without the sedative of tea. Wilson dropped the cane to the floor with a quiet clatter and clambered onto the bed, slithering beside House’s prone form. He tugged the man up so that his feet weren’t hanging off the edge and supported Houses’ lolling head with his chest. Running his fingers through the man’s hair, he let sleep take over.
The alarm clock was an unwelcome intrusion to sleep after days of not using it. House rolled over and groaned, pulling a pillow over his head. Wilson jammed down on three buttons before he finally hit the right one. Rubbing the sleep out of his eyes, he remembered that he had to work today. Shower. Eat. Get House in the car. It seemed easy enough. And the first to portions of his morning went smoothly. But when the time came to coerce House out of the comfort of his bed, the older man didn’t want any part of it.
“Jimmy, I’m still tired,” he whimpered as Wilson pushed the cane into unwilling hands.
“I know, and you can sleep as soon as we get into the car. Here, help me put your coat on.”House obediently stuck his arms out so that Wilson could tug the fabric over them before buttoning the front. “Come on, I’ve got your bag already. I’ll just put your shoes on and then we can go, okay?”
“Mhm.” House held his feet still, and peered through hooded eyes as Wilson manoeuvred his shoes on. It had been so long since he had put somebody else’s shoes on. It was surprisingly difficult. He laced up the sneakers.
“Too tight?”
“Nope.”
Then slipped an arm under House’s armpit and helped him stand. House immediately planted the cane on the ground. “That’s right, come on.” The worked their way to the front door and then out to the car. Thankfully it wasn’t cold enough for there to be ice on the ground yet, but he could still see his breath in front of his face and knew it wouldn’t be too long before walking outside proved more difficult for House. He helped the man get into the passenger side of the car and watched his head drop onto his shoulder before getting in and starting the car. “It’ll warm up in here soon.” He was talking to a sleeping man, but the silence unnerved him. Any other time House had driven somewhere with him, House did the driving. And most of the talking.
The trip to the hospital felt like it took longer than it did. Wilson had to park a ways away from the entrance (he didn’t have the added bonus of being handicapped when it came to getting spots), and then helped a still sluggish House inside.
“Good morning,” Wilson tried to keep his voice upbeat as he greeted the admin nurse.
“Good morning Dr. Wilson,” she replied without looking up. She held out a stack of papers and files for him.
“Lots of messages then?” He smiled as he took them from her.
“Yes, well you were-“ She cut herself off when she looked up and saw who was leaning on Wilson. “Is that Dr. House? I thought he didn’t work here anymore.”
“He doesn’t,” Wilson replied cryptically, turning to go to the elevator.
“But then-“ the time it was Wilson who cut her off.
“Talk to Dr. Cuddy,” he told her without looking at her, as he pushed the up button on the elevator. House mumbled something, and Wilson looked at him. “We’re almost there buddy. I have a couch that you’ll love to sleep on.” You always used to, anyways.
Next Chapter