The Vacation
Title: The Vacation
Pairing: House/Wilson established
Author: alanwolfmoon
Rating: PG
Warnings: nothing besides sick!wilson and possibly an overload of sweetness
Summary: Pre-infarction/no infarction AU, House and Wilson go on a summer vacation to the beach. Wilson has some rather bad luck with standard summertime injuries.
Disclaimer: MINE! ALL MINE!....uh, no. Not mine.
Feedback: Reviews and flames are welcome. (They make it look like I'm writing fast)
Notes: very fluffy and cute and not angsty at all.
T
Wilson smiled, as he knelt, spreading the towel out on the hot sand.
House was sitting a few feet away, waging a war of epic proportions with the beach umbrella.
Wilson just chuckled, at the older man’s curses, and crawled over to sit next to him.
House smirked, as Wilson, dressed in a t-shirt, flip-flops, and swim trunks, leaned against his own Hawaiian shirt-clad shoulder.
“House?”
“Hmm?” replied the older doctor, wrapping his arm around Wilson’s shoulders, “what?”
“Forget the umbrella.”
House shrugged, letting it fall to the ground.
Wilson curled himself pretty much in House’s lap, smiling, “the sun’s nice, isn’t it?”
House nodded, “I guess, if you don’t burn and end up looking like a lobster.”
Wilson snorted, wrapping his arms around House’s neck.
House pulled back a little, gently easing Wilson off, “are you sure…there’s a lot of people here…”
Wilson looked at him, brown eyes upset, “Greg…”
House sighed, rubbing his hand gently over Wilson’s back, “…okay.”
Wilson smiled, and rested his head on House’s shoulder.
House laid back in the sand, and Wilson laid next to him, still smiling, stretching his arm over House’s chest.
House gently combed his fingers through Wilson’s longish brown hair, smiling a bit.
Wilson closed his eyes.
They stayed there like that, for a while, warm under the summer sun.
House opened his eyes, checking on his lover.
Wilson was asleep, smiling peacefully, his hand curled in House’s shirt.
Nobody else on the beach seemed to care, which was a welcome surprise.
House smirked, and gently eased Wilson off, picking up a bucket and filling it down at the shore.
Wilson gasped, spluttering, as water splashed over him.
“House!” he yelled, coughing.
House grinned, widely, “what?”
Wilson tried to answer, but he was coughing too hard.
House frowned, and knelt, “hey.”
Wilson grabbed House’s arm, and House moved around behind him, “take as big a breath as you can.”
Wilson did, and House moved his hands up and in, expelling the water out of his friend’s windpipe.
Wilson kept coughing, but slowly calmed, breathing heavily and leaning back against his friend.
Then, suddenly, Wilson got to his feet, grabbing for the bucket.
House laughed, dodging backwards.
Wilson chased him down to the shore, then tackled him into the water.
House surfaced, laughing, as Wilson stood, smirking.
“Okay!” he said, “you got me back.”
Wilson smiled, “yes. Yes I did.”
He held out his hand, House took it, then pulled hard, taking Wilson down into the water with him.
They splashed around and swam for a few hours, but finally, House started to get sunburned, and went back to the “cottage”, as Wilson called it (House called it a shack), they had rented for the weekend.
As they were walking up the steps to the porch, Wilson tripped, and House caught him.
Wilson smiled, House’s arms around his waist, as they stood there on the steps.
An hour later, House woke, his lover dozing half on top of his chest.
He smiled, running his fingers through Wilson’s soft, chestnut hair.
Wilson stirred, and shifted a bit, nuzzling into the crook of House’s neck, then drifting into sleep once more.
House grinned, and just laid there, Wilson’s body warm against his own, with a cool breeze from the open window playing over both of them.
It smelled like salt, sea, and sun.
“Wilson,” he said, softly, into the younger doctor’s ear, “hey. It’s time to wake up.”
Wilson stirred, slowly opening large brown eyes.
House smirked, as Wilson looked sleepily at him, longish brown hair mussed and sticking up.
He looked utterly adorable.
House yawned, taking his reading his glasses, as he picked up his book from the floor.
He must have fallen asleep reading.
House got up, and walked to the window, looking out.
Wilson was curled on the sand, asleep.
House snorted.
Wilson whined, quietly, as House shook him.
“Wilson,” said House, as his friend whimpered and twitched, “you fell asleep. You should get your ass inside before you get sick from the heat.”
Wilson made a soft crying sound, as he opened brown eyes.
“House,” he whimpered, “my stomach hurts…”
House sighed, shaking his head, and pulled the younger doctor’s arm over around his shoulders, “come on, Jimmy. It’s okay.”
Wilson hid his face, one side covered in sand, the other burned a bright lobster red, in House’s shirt, as the older doctor carried him into the shack.
House put him on a couch, and unbuttoned his shirt.
He got some towels, wet them with cold water from the sink, and pressed one over his friend’s forehead, handing the younger doctor a glass of water.
Wilson took it, sipping miserably, as House held him upright.
House smiled a bit, as Wilson’s brown eyes slowly wandered over to meet his.
“I’m sorry,” mumbled Wilson, sleepily.
House shook his head, “just take it easy for a bit.”
Wilson nodded, and closed his eyes.
A hand rubbed over his shoulder, briefly, then left.
He heard water start running, then a chair being dragged over, and the towel on his forehead was replaced with a new one.
“I started the bath. You wanna go wait in there?”
Wilson nodded, and woozily started to sit up.
House rolled his eyes, put his arm around his friend’s shoulders, and helped him shuffle to the bathroom.
Wilson sat on the toilet, and House got him another glass of water.
He was half asleep when House got back, and the older doctor had to set the glass down quickly to keep his friend from sliding off the toilet.
“Wilson?”
Wilson’s hand curled in House’s shirt, and the younger doctor made an unhappy whining sound.
House shook his head. Clearly Wilson wasn’t cooling down fast enough.
He helped his friend out of shorts and boxers, and steadied him as he shuffled to the bathtub.
Wilson stumbled back, leaning against House, as he tried to step into the tub.
House pulled his friend’s arm over his shoulders again.
Wilson’s skin was hot against his own, which wasn’t a good sign.
He ended up half lifting Wilson into the tub, and knelt, keeping a hand on his friend’s shoulder, and using the other to keep the water moving.
Wilson slept, but House watched him, making sure the younger doctor’s head stayed above the water.
Eventually, Wilson stirred.
He sat up in the tub, looking rather confused as to how he’d gotten there.
But he saw House there, and the discarded clothes, and washcloths, and realized what must have happened.
He gave House a sheepish look, and House grinned back at him.
…then joined him in the tub.
House grinned, as they walked down the boardwalk.
Wilson stopped, bending down-his flip-flop thong had snapped.
“House, wait-“
But House was walking off towards a shop.
Wilson rolled his eyes, taking off his sandals and jogging after his friend, “House, wait up, I broke my sandal.”
House turned around, grinning, and holding up a pair of eye-smarting hot pink flip-flops.
Wilson gave him a dirty look, and got a blue pair from next to the pile of pink ones.
He went and paid, while House walked around the shop.
House ended up buying a pair of foam noodles, one blue, the other yellow.
He handed Wilson the yellow one.
Wilson looked at him strangely, then brought his own noodle up to parry House’s.
House ended up chasing him down the boardwalk, until one of Wilson’s new, over-sized sandals caught in the space between the boards, and he went down, hard, with a loud yelp of pain.
House knelt by him, as Wilson curled, clearly in more pain than just bruised knees.
“Wilson”
“owww,” cried Wilson, “I think I broke something.”
House shook his head, and rolled his friend over, careful to support and immobilize the younger doctor’s left arm, which was where Wilson seemed to be hurting.
A nearby policeman asked if they needed medical attention, and House nodded, rubbing his friend’s uninjured arm, as Wilson started to cry from the pain.
five minutes later, there were people in uniforms with a gurney.
An hour later, wilson was asleep, dozing in a chair, arm in a sling, while House filled out a form.
The oncologist looked utterly ridiculous, one side of his face peeling and red, the other pale and dusted with freckles, arm in a sling, bandaids on both knees.
House finished the form, and got up, walking over to the counter and handing it to the receptionist.
She smiled, taking it.
House grinned back at her, then turned around, going back over to the younger doctor.
Wilson stirred, and House hauled him to his feet by his good arm, “Jimmy?”
“hmm?” murmured Wilson, sleepily, as House guided him out of the first aid pavilion.
“You should probably stay away from the cancer kiddies for a while.”
Wilson frowned, dopily, “huh?”
“You look like… I don’t even know what you look like. But nothing comforting.”
“Mmm,” Wilson leaned against House’s side, and murmured, “you smell nice.”
House looked at him, shook his head, and gave up having a serious conversation with his friend until the pain meds wore off.
“Uh-huh. Let’s get you back to the shack.”
“It’s a cottage,” mumbled Wilson, “notta….” he giggled, “is that a word?”
House shook his head again, and gave up having any conversation at all.
But, useless and strange-looking as Wilson was, by the time he was curled on the bed, asleep, House couldn’t help still feeling incredibly endeared to his friend.
He shuffled up, wrapping an arm over his lover’s waist from behind, and settled in, close against his friend.
Wilson’s good hand draped across his wrist, “House?”
“Hmm?”
“I’m glad.”
“Huh?”
But Wilson was asleep, snoring gently, his back rumbling against House’s chest.
House grinned, slowly, and buried his face in his best friend’s neck.
“Yeah, Jimmy. I’m glad too.”
Pairing: House/Wilson established
Author: alanwolfmoon
Rating: PG
Warnings: nothing besides sick!wilson and possibly an overload of sweetness
Summary: Pre-infarction/no infarction AU, House and Wilson go on a summer vacation to the beach. Wilson has some rather bad luck with standard summertime injuries.
Disclaimer: MINE! ALL MINE!....uh, no. Not mine.
Feedback: Reviews and flames are welcome. (They make it look like I'm writing fast)
Notes: very fluffy and cute and not angsty at all.
T
Wilson smiled, as he knelt, spreading the towel out on the hot sand.
House was sitting a few feet away, waging a war of epic proportions with the beach umbrella.
Wilson just chuckled, at the older man’s curses, and crawled over to sit next to him.
House smirked, as Wilson, dressed in a t-shirt, flip-flops, and swim trunks, leaned against his own Hawaiian shirt-clad shoulder.
“House?”
“Hmm?” replied the older doctor, wrapping his arm around Wilson’s shoulders, “what?”
“Forget the umbrella.”
House shrugged, letting it fall to the ground.
Wilson curled himself pretty much in House’s lap, smiling, “the sun’s nice, isn’t it?”
House nodded, “I guess, if you don’t burn and end up looking like a lobster.”
Wilson snorted, wrapping his arms around House’s neck.
House pulled back a little, gently easing Wilson off, “are you sure…there’s a lot of people here…”
Wilson looked at him, brown eyes upset, “Greg…”
House sighed, rubbing his hand gently over Wilson’s back, “…okay.”
Wilson smiled, and rested his head on House’s shoulder.
House laid back in the sand, and Wilson laid next to him, still smiling, stretching his arm over House’s chest.
House gently combed his fingers through Wilson’s longish brown hair, smiling a bit.
Wilson closed his eyes.
They stayed there like that, for a while, warm under the summer sun.
House opened his eyes, checking on his lover.
Wilson was asleep, smiling peacefully, his hand curled in House’s shirt.
Nobody else on the beach seemed to care, which was a welcome surprise.
House smirked, and gently eased Wilson off, picking up a bucket and filling it down at the shore.
Wilson gasped, spluttering, as water splashed over him.
“House!” he yelled, coughing.
House grinned, widely, “what?”
Wilson tried to answer, but he was coughing too hard.
House frowned, and knelt, “hey.”
Wilson grabbed House’s arm, and House moved around behind him, “take as big a breath as you can.”
Wilson did, and House moved his hands up and in, expelling the water out of his friend’s windpipe.
Wilson kept coughing, but slowly calmed, breathing heavily and leaning back against his friend.
Then, suddenly, Wilson got to his feet, grabbing for the bucket.
House laughed, dodging backwards.
Wilson chased him down to the shore, then tackled him into the water.
House surfaced, laughing, as Wilson stood, smirking.
“Okay!” he said, “you got me back.”
Wilson smiled, “yes. Yes I did.”
He held out his hand, House took it, then pulled hard, taking Wilson down into the water with him.
They splashed around and swam for a few hours, but finally, House started to get sunburned, and went back to the “cottage”, as Wilson called it (House called it a shack), they had rented for the weekend.
As they were walking up the steps to the porch, Wilson tripped, and House caught him.
Wilson smiled, House’s arms around his waist, as they stood there on the steps.
An hour later, House woke, his lover dozing half on top of his chest.
He smiled, running his fingers through Wilson’s soft, chestnut hair.
Wilson stirred, and shifted a bit, nuzzling into the crook of House’s neck, then drifting into sleep once more.
House grinned, and just laid there, Wilson’s body warm against his own, with a cool breeze from the open window playing over both of them.
It smelled like salt, sea, and sun.
“Wilson,” he said, softly, into the younger doctor’s ear, “hey. It’s time to wake up.”
Wilson stirred, slowly opening large brown eyes.
House smirked, as Wilson looked sleepily at him, longish brown hair mussed and sticking up.
He looked utterly adorable.
House yawned, taking his reading his glasses, as he picked up his book from the floor.
He must have fallen asleep reading.
House got up, and walked to the window, looking out.
Wilson was curled on the sand, asleep.
House snorted.
Wilson whined, quietly, as House shook him.
“Wilson,” said House, as his friend whimpered and twitched, “you fell asleep. You should get your ass inside before you get sick from the heat.”
Wilson made a soft crying sound, as he opened brown eyes.
“House,” he whimpered, “my stomach hurts…”
House sighed, shaking his head, and pulled the younger doctor’s arm over around his shoulders, “come on, Jimmy. It’s okay.”
Wilson hid his face, one side covered in sand, the other burned a bright lobster red, in House’s shirt, as the older doctor carried him into the shack.
House put him on a couch, and unbuttoned his shirt.
He got some towels, wet them with cold water from the sink, and pressed one over his friend’s forehead, handing the younger doctor a glass of water.
Wilson took it, sipping miserably, as House held him upright.
House smiled a bit, as Wilson’s brown eyes slowly wandered over to meet his.
“I’m sorry,” mumbled Wilson, sleepily.
House shook his head, “just take it easy for a bit.”
Wilson nodded, and closed his eyes.
A hand rubbed over his shoulder, briefly, then left.
He heard water start running, then a chair being dragged over, and the towel on his forehead was replaced with a new one.
“I started the bath. You wanna go wait in there?”
Wilson nodded, and woozily started to sit up.
House rolled his eyes, put his arm around his friend’s shoulders, and helped him shuffle to the bathroom.
Wilson sat on the toilet, and House got him another glass of water.
He was half asleep when House got back, and the older doctor had to set the glass down quickly to keep his friend from sliding off the toilet.
“Wilson?”
Wilson’s hand curled in House’s shirt, and the younger doctor made an unhappy whining sound.
House shook his head. Clearly Wilson wasn’t cooling down fast enough.
He helped his friend out of shorts and boxers, and steadied him as he shuffled to the bathtub.
Wilson stumbled back, leaning against House, as he tried to step into the tub.
House pulled his friend’s arm over his shoulders again.
Wilson’s skin was hot against his own, which wasn’t a good sign.
He ended up half lifting Wilson into the tub, and knelt, keeping a hand on his friend’s shoulder, and using the other to keep the water moving.
Wilson slept, but House watched him, making sure the younger doctor’s head stayed above the water.
Eventually, Wilson stirred.
He sat up in the tub, looking rather confused as to how he’d gotten there.
But he saw House there, and the discarded clothes, and washcloths, and realized what must have happened.
He gave House a sheepish look, and House grinned back at him.
…then joined him in the tub.
House grinned, as they walked down the boardwalk.
Wilson stopped, bending down-his flip-flop thong had snapped.
“House, wait-“
But House was walking off towards a shop.
Wilson rolled his eyes, taking off his sandals and jogging after his friend, “House, wait up, I broke my sandal.”
House turned around, grinning, and holding up a pair of eye-smarting hot pink flip-flops.
Wilson gave him a dirty look, and got a blue pair from next to the pile of pink ones.
He went and paid, while House walked around the shop.
House ended up buying a pair of foam noodles, one blue, the other yellow.
He handed Wilson the yellow one.
Wilson looked at him strangely, then brought his own noodle up to parry House’s.
House ended up chasing him down the boardwalk, until one of Wilson’s new, over-sized sandals caught in the space between the boards, and he went down, hard, with a loud yelp of pain.
House knelt by him, as Wilson curled, clearly in more pain than just bruised knees.
“Wilson”
“owww,” cried Wilson, “I think I broke something.”
House shook his head, and rolled his friend over, careful to support and immobilize the younger doctor’s left arm, which was where Wilson seemed to be hurting.
A nearby policeman asked if they needed medical attention, and House nodded, rubbing his friend’s uninjured arm, as Wilson started to cry from the pain.
five minutes later, there were people in uniforms with a gurney.
An hour later, wilson was asleep, dozing in a chair, arm in a sling, while House filled out a form.
The oncologist looked utterly ridiculous, one side of his face peeling and red, the other pale and dusted with freckles, arm in a sling, bandaids on both knees.
House finished the form, and got up, walking over to the counter and handing it to the receptionist.
She smiled, taking it.
House grinned back at her, then turned around, going back over to the younger doctor.
Wilson stirred, and House hauled him to his feet by his good arm, “Jimmy?”
“hmm?” murmured Wilson, sleepily, as House guided him out of the first aid pavilion.
“You should probably stay away from the cancer kiddies for a while.”
Wilson frowned, dopily, “huh?”
“You look like… I don’t even know what you look like. But nothing comforting.”
“Mmm,” Wilson leaned against House’s side, and murmured, “you smell nice.”
House looked at him, shook his head, and gave up having a serious conversation with his friend until the pain meds wore off.
“Uh-huh. Let’s get you back to the shack.”
“It’s a cottage,” mumbled Wilson, “notta….” he giggled, “is that a word?”
House shook his head again, and gave up having any conversation at all.
But, useless and strange-looking as Wilson was, by the time he was curled on the bed, asleep, House couldn’t help still feeling incredibly endeared to his friend.
He shuffled up, wrapping an arm over his lover’s waist from behind, and settled in, close against his friend.
Wilson’s good hand draped across his wrist, “House?”
“Hmm?”
“I’m glad.”
“Huh?”
But Wilson was asleep, snoring gently, his back rumbling against House’s chest.
House grinned, slowly, and buried his face in his best friend’s neck.
“Yeah, Jimmy. I’m glad too.”