someone to stay ; hilson oneshots

4: boyfriend (whumptober 2020)

fills the whumptober prompts from "chronic pain" (from #21) and "support" (from #07).

-

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.