A/N: Things happen quite fast in this chapter, and I do apologize for the quick development, but I feel as if I'm losing my muse and I need to head towards the ending before it completely abandons me. I hope you enjoy reading it anyway.

This chapter has a short but slightly explicit paragraph, so I'm rating it M.

Chapter 15

Over the next two days House never left the hospital. He ordered take out for his meals or sent someone on his team to fetch food for himself as well as for Wilson. Chase was delegated to retrieve his clothes and personal accessories from his apartment. Cuddy arranged to have a recliner chair brought into the room so he could sleep comfortably. Occasionally when Wilson slept he would go to the younger doctor's office to sleep on his couch when he felt he needed to stretch out.

Wilson's appetite improved; he was taken off the IV drip and the anti-emetic. He still had headaches, not as often as before but still as debilitating. Dr. Roth had told him that it would probably be about a week until they moderated in intensity. He passed his neurological screenings for the most part, recalling dates and times. However, he still experienced bouts of confusion upon waking and also could not remember what had happened to him the day he was carjacked. He never asked House for details; he only knew what his friend had told him the first day he was in the hospital and the older doctor never offered any information. Wilson was prepared to let it go, although it did bother him that he couldn't remember.

"I'm not dying."

House looked up from his magazine. "Thank you for the report. I was worried."

"You don't have to baby sit me. Go home. Get some rest."

House smiled. "Maybe I like to baby sit you." He went back to his reading.

The younger doctor switched the TV on and started watching a documentary on tsunami's. Unable to get into it, he glanced over to his friend who appeared to be engrossed in an article.

"Did we have sex?"

House's head sprang up. "You don't remember?"

Wilson scrunched up his face. "No."

"Every chance we could."

"You think I would remember something like that," the other man said, scratching his head.

"I guess you're sicker than you thought."

Wilson leaned forward in his bed. "Do you think my memory of what happened to me will ever return?"

"Memories are overrated."

He leaned back against his pillow. "It would be nice to remember having sex with you."

House smiled, his eyes still on the magazine. "Well… I guess we'll just have to make new memories."

"Okay."

House looked up. "That's your concussion talking."

"My concussion wants to marry you. I just want to have sex with you."

The older doctor studied his friend, attempting to glean some insight from looking into his chestnut colored eyes. "Don't you think you're rushing things?"

"I've known you for a long time. So, nope."

"Really, take your time answering."

"I know what I want, House."

"A new Volvo?"

"It's been there under the surface," the oncologist said. "Why not dig it up?"

"Got a shovel?" House asked, noting how much brighter and clearer his friend's eyes were from just the day before.

"I miss sleeping with you," the younger man said quietly.

House continued to stare into his eyes. "So do I."

Wilson turned towards the nurse's station, then back to his friend.

House smiled. He quickly limped to the door and locked it. He closed all the blinds. As he approached the bed Wilson shifted over making room for him to climb in next to him. They intertwined their arms as they lay in bed next to each other.

House held his best friend close. It was almost like slow motion, the captivating sensation of hot breath on his neck. Without realizing it he pressed his hips against the other man's, pushing into him. Wilson's tongue found his ear and twirled around the outer rim, slowly sinking inside, teasingly drawing it out. Moaning quietly House began moving his hips, the friction pushing him higher.

He pulled away abruptly and sat up.

"Hey!"

House attempted to catch his breath.

"Why'd you leave?"

He shook his head. "First of all, you have a concussion…not conducive to having sex. Second, that tongue of yours. You need to register it as a dangerous weapon." He took a breath. "And as far as what you were doing." He paused. "What was that you were doing?"

There was a knock at the door. Both men looked at each other, their eyes wide resembling children caught playing with matches.

House stood, leaning into his cane and quickly limped to the door, unlocking and opening it.

Nurse Jackson was standing on the other side of the door carrying her blood pressure monitor and thermometer as well as her patient's chart. She walked into the room and stopped when she saw the blinds drawn. She turned her attention towards House.

"Oh, the blinds. Yes, well…I was checking out a very nasty rash on Dr. Wilson's…. you know. He's very shy."

Nurse Jackson scowled at House as she turned around to look at her patient. He smiled sheepishly. She approached the bed and got to work, checking temperature, blood pressure and pulse rate, marking the information on her chart.

"Dr. Roth is releasing you tomorrow," she said gruffly. "He'll be in later to talk to you so if you have any questions you have time to write them down." She started to leave, but turned back towards her patient. "Would you like him to look at that rash?"

Wilson's eyes grew wide. "Uh…no, that's okay, Dr. House is treating me for that." She turned back towards the door and walked out of the room nodding to House as she passed him.

House watched her leave. "She scares me." He limped over to Wilson's bed and sat on the side. Taking a pen and pad from the bedside table he handed it to his friend. "I have questions for Dr. Roth….write them down. Ready?"

Wilson held the pen to pad prepared to write. House began dictating his questions. "Question number one; when did you get to be such an idiot?" Wilson shifted his eyes towards House. He tossed the pad and pen to the end of the bed.

"I'm not through yet."

The younger man rolled his eyes. "Why don't you just ask him?

"He might hit me."

Wilson began rubbing his forehead as he closed his eyes, resting his head on his pillow.

"Headache?"

"For a change."

"I'll get the sumatriptan." House quickly limped to the nurse's station to retrieve the medication.

He returned a few minutes later to find his friend curled on his side in obvious pain. "Is it that bad?" He asked quietly.

"It's bad. Came on so fast."

"This will take care of it." House limped around the bed and pulled the covers back to administer the injection into the younger man's hip. He discarded the empty syringe into the sharps container and went back to check on his friend.

Wilson was clutching the side of the bed with his hands clenched in fists, his face tense, eyes tightly closed. House squeezed his hand to let him know he was there and sank down into his chair.

tbc