fills the whumptober prompts from "chronic pain" (from #21) and "support" (from #07).
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It's not one of the better pain days today at all; it's one of the really bad ones, and House just knows today is going to be fucking terrible because of it - completely, totally, absolutely awful. No good whatsoever.
It starts off with House waking up and having trouble getting out of bed because of just how bad it is. He manages to get into an upright sitting position just to immediately reach onto the nightstand for his pills, desperately needing them. He swallows down the two Vicodin that spill out into his palm, and then he just... sits for a moment, takes a shaky breath or two, and looks around the room as a distraction.
He frowns at the other, empty half of his bed and wonders if Wilson already left for work or if he's just getting ready. House considers calling out for him, but instead holds off; he knows he can do this himself without his lover's help. He could before when in a lot of pain like this, so he obviously can now.
He uses his hands to move his right leg off of the edge of the bed with only a slight wince, taking another breath after. The next one will be easy and painless.
He follows the right leg with his left next, swinging it as easily as expected over the edge as well, so that both of his feet are now touching the hard floor. After a moment passes, he reaches for his cane, but as he tries to use it to stand, he finds that it just hurts too much to actually get up and he frowns.
He tries once more, pushing himself even though it hurts so badly. He manages to stand up, but quickly loses his balance and ends up back on the bed as his cane clatters to the floor. The palm of his hand pushes hard against his thigh as he rubs at his scar, hoping to massage the cramps away, but it's not helping much. His fingers don't ease the pain enough to make a difference. Fuck, can't the Vicodin just kick in already?
The door creaks a little to House's left, but when he turns his head to look, Wilson is already there at his side, sitting next to him and rubbing over his back and shoulders lovingly, carefully.
"Bad pain day today?" Wilson breathes as he kisses House's shoulder and lets his fingers dance over the older man's spine. House nods in response, because he doesn't really trust himself to speak. "You took your Vicodin already too, I'm guessing?"
"Yeah," House answers quietly, sounding pained no matter how much he tries to sound like he's fine. "Just-" he pauses and exhales, shutting his eyes, "just waiting for it to kick in now. Would be nice if it happened anytime soon."
"Well why don't I," Wilson then starts, placing a gentle kiss to House's temple before he stands, "go call Cuddy and ask for the day off for us both? We can spend time together, and I can take care of you today, okay?"
House frowns up at him. It sounds nice, but of course House is stubborn and doesn't feel like he should have to be taken care of, especially if he can do it himself just fine. He doesn't need Wilson wasting time worrying about him when he should be at work taking care of his cancer kids and whatnot.
"I've gone into work feeling much worse," House states dismissively, bending forward to reach down for his cane. When it's in his hands, he tries standing again, feeling the way Wilson's hand settles on his lower back to assist him. "I can go in now, too. It'll be fine."
House is up and on his feet again. It hurts, it beyond hurts, but he's finally up on his feet for the second time this morning, though this time he's steadier. He tries to take a small step forward, but his leg buckles on him and he loses his balance. Wilson catches him before he falls to the floor though, keeping him steady again as House breathes through the waves of pain.
He sighs when he looks at Wilson and knows he probably has to give in and just not go to work today, so he nods his approval of calling Cuddy, defeated, and allows Wilson to help him to the bathroom and then out into the living room where he sits on the couch and props up his leg. He can hear Wilson talking on the phone in the kitchen as he shuffles around to make breakfast, but House can't hear everything that's being said so he ignores it all.
Wilson emerges from the other room barely a second later, holding up his phone. "We're all good to go," he says with a small smile and heads towards the bedroom, probably off going to get changed or put his phone on the charger. House closes his eyes for a moment and just relaxes the best he can in the meantime.
The next thing he knows, Wilson is putting two plates down on the coffee table and then placing a kiss to the top of his head. "You okay?" his lover asks him - he sees the concern in Wilson's eyes and it makes him feel stupidly guilty for agreeing to let them both stay home.
"Yeah," House replies dully, too tired and hurting too much to think of a witty response or a joke or anything else. After Wilson sits beside him and passes him his plate, House sighs and digs in - Wilson's food is always good, but these pancakes are especially. House hums appreciatively and loves the smile Wilson gives him in response.
Upon finishing, Wilson takes their dishes away and then leans against the doorframe leading into the kitchen. "How about a bath?" he suggests, moving closer. He offers his hands to House, who simply stares at them. "I know you probably hate me for making you move so much, but it might help your leg feel a little better, so come on. Up."
House rolls his eyes, but he takes Wilson's hands anyway and allows himself to be pulled to his feet. Wilson's arm slips around his waist, giving him support as they start to head towards the bathroom. "I don't hate you," House says softly, noticing that the Vicodin is starting to really kick in. "But that doesn't mean that this isn't annoying as hell. I don't want you to have to take care of me like this; I should be able to do it myself."
"I know," Wilson sighs, flicking on the bathroom light, "But you're not able to right now, and it's okay. I don't mind helping you like this because I love you, and I care about you, and I want you to be alright." He pauses momentarily. "It's okay for you to accept my help, you know, since I am your boyfriend."
House makes a face that's somewhere between a mix of embarrassment and slight disgust, rolled into a pout of sorts. "Do you really have to use that word?"
Wilson frowns. "What word?" he asks, confused.
House rolls his eyes. "Boyfriend," he replies with a hint of annoyance. "I don't know why but it sounds a little stupid when it's referring to what you - a fully grown man - are to me - another fully grown man."
Wilson shrugs a little, clearly fighting a smile as House lets go of him to support himself with the sink. "Sure, it's a little juvenile, but I feel like it makes us seem kind of... cute, and endearing."
"We're not cute and endearing," House argues and slips his shirt off over his head as Wilson's deft fingers work on getting his pants open. " You're cute and endearing, but you're still old, just like me. And we," House gestures between the both of them, "are fully grown men that should not use the word boyfriend when referring to each other. It would've been cute like five years ago, but it's not anymore - now it's stupid."
"Hey, I'm not that old," Wilson argues weakly as if that's all he heard, helping House step out of his pants and boxers and leaving him completely naked. "And I mean, I don't think that it's that big of a deal, but if you really insist on it being stupid..."
"And I really do," House interjects.
Wilson stares at him. "...then what would you rather we use?"
House shrugs. "Literally anything else," he answers as if it's a dumb thing to ask and Wilson blinks. "You're my..." House pauses, thinking over every term that comes to mind, "my significant other. My lover. My partner. The love of my life. Pick one, just stop using boyfriend."
Wilson rolls his eyes, but there's a fondness in them, also present in the small smile gracing his lips. House watches as he then turns away and moves to draw the bath, rolling up his sleeves and then checking to make sure the water's not too hot but also not too cold. He shakes the water droplets off of his fingers as he straightens back up and offers up his hands again. "Come on, let's get you in."
"You won't be joining me?" House questions as if slightly offended, taking Wilson by the forearms and wincing as he moves just a little only to sit on the edge of the tub. It's cold against his naked skin, but it's preferable to the pain of standing.
"This bath is for you," Wilson says simply, helping House into the water. He takes House's spot on the edge of the tub once the older man is settled. "It's to make your leg feel better. We can take one together another day, when you're not in as much pain."
House looks at him, slowly reaching up to start undoing the buttons of Wilson's shirt. Wilson doesn't actually stop him, instead giving him a small smile and shaking his head before bracing himself and leaning down to press a soft kiss to House's mouth. House's hands reach up and try to wander as they kiss and it's then that Wilson finally stops him, taking his hands in his own. "Another time," he promises, letting go to reach over and shut the water off.
"But like what if I said I'd relax so much more if I had my handsome lover behind me, holding me against his chest with his nice, strong arms?"
House somehow keeps a straight face as he looks up at Wilson, who just snorts in response at first. "I'd ask: who are you and what have you done with Gregory House? Because there's no way that he'd seriously be saying this sappy crap and expecting me to think he actually means it for a second. Seriously, I know you better than that. Plus I don't think you've ever called me handsome - that's a giveaway that you don't mean it, if it wasn't already obvious, I mean."
"But I do mean it," House protects in mock offense, "You know it's hurtful that you would assume that I would lie to you, Jimmy." At the look Wilson gives him, House sighs and gives up. "Can you at least just pretend to believe it and get in with me?"
Wilson smiles. "Another time," he says again, fingers brushing House's shoulder and then his neck, thumb stroking his jaw. "I promise. I want you to just relax in the tub by yourself right now and try to feel a little better, okay?"
Wilson gives a look that makes House give up. "Fine, fine," he agrees with a huff. "Another time. Can you at least kiss me again before I pull your handsome ass into the water and soak your nice work clothes?"
Wilson rolls his eyes at him, but House knows the compliment is already getting to the poor bastard that he loves as Wilson swiftly bends down and recaptures House's mouth with his own.
And sure, it's definitely a bad pain day, but maybe the rest of the day will turn out surprisingly nice after all if it all goes like this.