026. Whiteboard

Moments

Wilson stood in front of the whiteboard in the Diagnostic Medicine conference room and stared wearily at House's scrawled writing.

Severe headache

Chills

Fever

Vomiting

Pain – muscle, lower back, upper abdomen

Underneath all of this, written in far more urgent writing was:

Petechiae

Nosebleeds – haemorrhage

Hepatomegaly

Q Fever

Listeriosis

Leptospirosis

Dengue Fever

Lassa Fever

Yellow Fever

Crimean-Congo Haemorrhagic Fever

Marburg

Ebola

Crimean-Congo Haemorrhagic Fever had been circled twice in red and Wilson sighed heavily.

"It could have been worse."

Wilson turned his head to see House walk into the room, his limp far more pronounced than usual. He looked as tired and worn as Wilson did and he was leaning heavily on his cane.

"How so?" Wilson asked as House came to a halt next to him.

"Could have been Ebola," House replied. "The filoviridae have mortality rates between 25 and 100 percent. At least the mortality rate for CCHF is only around 15 to 30 percent. We've got 48 patients so given those odds somewhere between seven and fourteen should die, which aren't bad odds for them."

"How's Chase?" Wilson asked after a short silence.

"Holding his own," House replied, scrubbing his face almost clumsily with his free hand. "The combination of Ribovirin and the replacement of blood, platelets and plasma seems to be having some effect. It'll be at least another two to three days before we know for sure. But he's young, healthy and fit. That's the one of the best defences he's got against this thing."

"Any word on how long the hospital will have to stay in quarantine?"

House shrugged. "No idea but I'd say at least another week, if not two."

Wilson sighed. "I'm tired of sleeping on the couches in the oncology lounge already. Not sure if I can take another week or two."

"How do you think I feel?" House said with a snort. "There is a reason I go home to sleep."

The reason for House's more exaggerated limp suddenly became clear.

"Where have you been sleeping?" Wilson asked, concern overcoming some of his tiredness.

"In my office," House replied shortly, gesturing to the armchair in the corner of the other room. "My chair's turned out to be the best option."

"Why don't you go and try and get some rest then?" Wilson suggested. "You look like you need it?"

House snorted derisively. "So do you."

Wilson let out a tired chuckle. "You're probably right." He paused then shot a sly grin in House's direction. "Problem is, I've gotten used to your bed."

A warm amused smile flashed across House's face. "Told you it was comfortable."

"Well, that's true enough but I was actually referring to the company," Wilson replied with another quick grin.

House's hand ghosted down Wilson's arm, drawing a small shiver. He bit his lower lip for a moment then gave House an intense look.

"Just how comfortable is that chair of yours?" he asked as blandly as he could manage.

"Not bad," House replied curiously. "Why?"

Wilson suddenly turned and grabbed House's arm, dragging him gently but inexorably into the office. House followed along with an irritated look then pulled his arm free once they were inside. Wilson let him go and walked over to the door.

"Was there some reason you felt the need to manhandle me all of a sudden?" he snapped.

Wilson turned around as he let the lock click shut audibly and saw the realisation wash across House's face. He grinned at the startled look he'd just gained and closed the curtains.

"Why don't you take a seat?" he suggested.

House blinked at him for a moment then he turned and limped over to the chair, taking off his jacket and throwing it on the floor before lowering himself into the chair with a pained grunt. He propped his cane against the wall then turned to watch Wilson with curious anticipation.

Once he'd closed all of the curtains, Wilson stripped his lab coat off. He folded it and draped it over the back of the chair in front of House's desk then pulled his tie off and draped it over the coat. He then walked over to where House was sitting and crawled on top of him, taking care not to bump his leg. House's hands came up and steadied him and he slowly lowered himself on top of the older man.

"I think I like your ideas," House said, his breathing rate picking up slightly as his hands slid around to cup Wilson's arse.

"I do have my moments," Wilson replied and he gently undulated his hips, feeling his dick harden and noticing with smug satisfaction the same thing happening to House.

House moaned and his hands slid down to grip at Wilson's hips, encouraging the movement. He then shifted one hand up to grip the back of Wilson's head and drew him down into a hot, needy kiss. Wilson worked his hands between the two of them as he returned the kiss and with an admirable display of dexterity removed both of House's shirts as well as his own, tossing them to the floor beside the chair. He then went to work on his pants and House's jeans as House shifted his attention to his neck, kissing, licking and biting his way down to Wilson's shoulder.

It was his turn to moan when House bit down one the skin at the juncture of his neck and shoulder and then soothed the mark he'd just left with a kiss. Wilson finished his work on their pants and shoved down House's jeans and boxers far enough to release his erection then did the same to himself. He wrapped his hand around both their cocks and watched as House's head fell back against the chair with a thump and a low, thready whine escaped from the older man.

"God, James," House breathed as he almost instinctively bucked up into Wilson's hand, pain flashing ever so briefly across his face at the movement.

Wilson pulled his hand away, ignoring the murmur of complaint that came and he plastered himself against House, returning to the slow undulation of his hips that he'd started with and swallowing House's cry with a kiss. House wrapped his arms around Wilson and shifted his own hips as best as he could. Wilson wove one hand into House's hair and plundered his mouth as he gave in to House's unspoken demands, his hips moving sharply. He tore his mouth away from House's and took in wild, gasping breaths, hearing House's breathing take on the same tenor as release closed in on both of them. He buried his face in House's shoulder as his movements became more frantic and House clutched at him desperately. It only took a few more thrusts then Wilson was coming, biting down hard on House's shoulder to muffle his cry. House wasn't far behind him and when he came, Wilson shifted his mouth onto the older man's to swallow his low moan in a kiss. He pressed several soft kisses to House's face as they both came down from the endorphin high, House's hands tracing random patterns on his back.

Eventually House's hands stuttered in their gentle caresses and Wilson knew it was time for him to move. He gingerly manoeuvred himself off his lover, hitching his boxers and pants up before wandering over to the desk and grabbing a handful of tissues. He walked back to the chair and dug House's Vicodin out of his jacket pocket. He handed the small bottle to house before cleaning them both up. He tossed the tissues into the trash and heard the rattle of the bottle behind him. When he turned around House had hitched up his boxers and jeans and had his head titled back and his eyes closed.

Wilson sat down on the edge of the chair and ran a gentle hand down his lover's chest. "Okay?"

House nodded and shifted over on the chair slightly before pulling Wilson down beside him. "Think there's enough room for two," he muttered.

Wilson wrapped his wrapped his legs around House's good leg and draped himself over the older man, smiling when House wrapped his arms around him. He felt more than heard House's breathing settle in a sleep rhythm before he lost his battle and sleep claimed him as well.