Disclaimer: I do not own any of these characters (nor any of the ones in "I Never Get Sick;" except for Cristi and Cosette; please do not sue me for forgetting the disclaimer in it).
It rained all day yesterday, not pouring over the world in buckets, but drizzling. The plants beamed as the rain continued to sink into the earth and dampen the leaves, filling their roots with the sweet water. Occasionally it beat against the ground in a heavier beat, but always returning to its calmness; the pitter-patter of the rain like the quiet of a ballerina's toes.
During the night a fog laid itself at all doorsteps, making sure to chill every bed as people slept. It fell over the world in a sheet of beautiful eerieness. House awoke to a white glow. The fog was waiting at his window to be let in. He groaned as he reached for his last Vicodin bottle, the only one Tritter hadn't gotten a hold of. House tapped the pills into his hand and sighed as they slid down his throat. He closed the bottle and shook it, there was one pill left. House pushed back the sheets and slowly sat up against the hard headboard. Noticing the chill, he pulled on his boxers and a white tee.
The memory of the night before flooded back to his mind. Chase had been so seductive; House had had one too many drinks and was vulnerable. Chase, with his golden locks and deep set, blue-green eyes. His muscular body, shaped so perfectly just crying to be House's toy. The kisses, the ardor unleashed itself; House ripped Chase's clothing off in a passionate rage, pushing his lips with Chase's. House maneuvered his hands down Chase's arched back and rested them on his hips. Chase began undoing House's belt and helping him strip. Before long they lay tangled with one another in House's sheets, having fulfilled their desires.
Remembering this, House turned to see his bed empty and a bottle of lubricant near his cane. Sighing, he went to the window and welcomed the fog in. He winced as the cold moist clung to his right thigh, where a muscle once was. After staring into the nothingness while pondering himself, he finally took his eyes from the fog and decided to get ready for work. As he reached for his cane he suddenly found himself sprawled on the floor. His right leg in intense pain, two pills of Vicodin weren't enough anymore.
He searched for the bottle and popped the top. Staring at the one last pill, he suddenly unable to take it to ease the severe throbbing. One last pill. Only one. Then he would be cut from his Vicodin forever. One. He couldn't take it. House stared at the slender, white pill that had helped him through so much agony. He threw it across the room in anger. Tears began to well in his eyes as the pain increased.
He couldn't keep doing this, not anymore. He didn't want to take the pills, he didn't want to detox, and he didn't want this damn infarction, this damned scar on his thigh. He lay in fog that had slowly crept through his window, crying silently on the floor unable to sort out his pain and his thoughts. Soon a white blanket fell over his mind and body in a beautiful eeriness allowing him to be free finally of the pain.
I hope you enjoyed it. This is the first time I've done a story with House being gay. And I'm not exactly into the idea of it, so tell me what you think. BTW this was based on the weather today, hehe. It was so pretty so I had to write about it.