Title: Prostates and Plum Pudding
Author: hwshipper
Characters: House/Wilson established, OMC/OMC (Chris/Brian)
Beta: many thanks to srsly_yes
Summary: Wilson gears up to perform a prostate operation; House tries not to betray too much interest.
Excerpt: House nodded at the briefcase, which Wilson had set down on his lap. "What's in the bag? If it's not edible or lubricating then get it out of this room."
A/N: Featuring various canon characters, including Nurse Jeffrey Sparkman from 6.09 Ignorance is Bliss, who popped up in a tiny supporting role here and refused to go away.
House and Wilson last encountered my recurring original characters in The Life of Brian, but no previous knowledge required.
Prostates and Plum Pudding
House was in bed reading by lamplight when he heard the front door open, then slam; Wilson was home.
"Hey!" House shouted, pushing his spectacles back up his nose.
"Hey!" a muffled voice called back.
House closed his book and waited patiently for Wilson to divest himself of coat, shoes and other outdoor paraphernalia and join him in the bedroom. Such actions always took Wilson far longer to do than they should, owing to his indefensible propensity to hang up his coat, put away his shoes neatly, and so on.
Wilson duly appeared, looking rather adorably windswept and still carrying his briefcase. The latter was curious. It should be placed neatly at the bottom of the hall closet by now, or perhaps placed on the kitchen table if paperwork was to be sorted out. It should not be brought in the bedroom.
"Hey," Wilson said, stopping to kiss House on the mouth, then walking around to sit down on his side of the bed. Wilson had insisted that he sleep on the side of the bed he was used to as his when they'd first moved in together; House had initially had some fun falling very soundly asleep on the side Wilson had claimed. But truth be told, House didn't actually mind, and had let that battle die.
"Hey." House nodded at the briefcase, which Wilson had set down on his lap. "What's in the bag? If it's not edible or lubricating then get it out of this room."
"It's not either, unless you want to nibble on an MRI scan." Wilson opened the briefcase and held up a scan in front of House's nose. "What do you make of this?"
House squinted at it, then took it and turned to hold it up to the lamplight. "I think...you'll be carrying out a radical prostatectomy in the near future. And hope the cancer's still confined to the prostate."
Wilson nodded. "The surgery's arranged for this Thursday afternoon."
"Nice Christmas present for somebody. Why are you waving around this obviously cancer-ridden scan?" House queried, handing said scan back to Wilson. "No diagnostic mystery to solve. You think it's got some other interest for me. Anyone I know?"
"One of my long-standing patients."
House's mind flicked through the Rolodex of Wilson's prostate cancer patients. "Not... Chris's prostate pal?"
"Linus," Wilson confirmed, closing the briefcase and sliding it down to the floor. "Yes, it's him. He's been in remission for years, until now."
Ah. House pondered the situation; it had been many years since Wilson's relationship with Chris had crashed and burned, and they were all supposed to be friends now, kind of. Nevertheless, House couldn't help but be wary; ex-boyfriends of Wilson were far more of a potential threat than all those ex-wives. Chris was irritatingly tall and fair and had a habit of wearing tight leather pants.
"I guess Chris will come along to give moral support," House probed.
"Possibly," Wilson replied, sounding carefully careless. His next words were obviously chosen deliberately, to point out Chris was himself also now attached. "Maybe Brian, too."
Now that was more like it. House liked Brian, although he would have had all his fingernails pulled out before admitting it in so many words. Brian was geeky and bearded and interesting. "They still living happily ever after by the Jersey shore?"
"Well, it's been a while, but last I heard, yes." Wilson nodded.
"Pressure's on for the perfect prostatectomy, then," House observed, and added with an off-hand manner, "Borrow Chase to help in the operating room, if you want. He tells me he needs more opportunities to keep up his super-surgical skills."
"I might just do that," Wilson nodded, smiling, and House knew he'd taken the offer as the message House had intended; I'm okay with this. "Anyway. Talking of prostates... I was thinking maybe we've been neglecting them recently."
Now this was why House had been waiting up. "Well, unless you've got any more diagnostically interesting scans in that case--"
Wilson leaned across to silence House's mouth with his own; the kiss at first tender, affectionate, pleased, and then increasingly prolonged and passionate. House kissed back and reached out to pull Wilson towards him. They nipped at each others' lips, earlobes, necks, while scrambling to remove clothing; panted, hugged, stroked at each others' cocks.
Then Wilson reached downwards with a slippery hand. And when House felt Wilson's finger arch up inside his ass and hit the right spot with the unnerving accuracy of--well, of a doctor, he came in an instant, spurting fantastically across Wilson's heaving chest.
He lay in orgasmic stupor for what felt like a few seconds (although Wilson insisted later that it had been a full five minutes, for fuck's sake) before Wilson jabbed him in the stomach and made him reciprocate.
Brian, Chris, Linus and Raul all arrived together at Princeton Plainsboro on Thursday morning. It had been a few years since Brian had visited Princeton Plainsboro. He looked around the foyer as they entered; not much had changed. Except everything seemed more spacious, somehow, and the place was festooned with tinsel and decorations for the festive season.
They approached the reception desk and a tall male nurse with dark hair smiled at them broadly. "How can I help you?"
Linus leaned his considerable bulk on the counter, and announced, "I'm here to have my prostate removed."
"Well, I'm very sorry to hear that," the nurse replied, with a wink that was definitely mischievous.
Linus beamed, winked back, leaned across the desk and said in an exaggerated whisper, "I'll still have it for the next six hours or so, if you'd like to come and tickle it for me."
Brian almost burst out laughing, and the nurse's grin was positively saucy.
"Linus!" Chris rolled his eyes and dug his friend in the ribs. "Behave!"
"That's alright. I wouldn't dare risk the wrath of his beautiful sweetheart here," the nurse said, grasping the relationship dynamics of the group enough to accurately identify Raul. Brian was impressed. Raul opened his big dark eyes wide and shot the nurse a watery smile.
"Oh, Raul would be totally cool with it," Linus assured him, then sighed dramatically. "But enough of all this banter. The prostate must go. Where do we find Dr. Wilson?"
"You must be Linus," the nurse said, proving that Linus's reputation preceded him. Or possibly just that the reception desk had a list of prostate cancer patients due to arrive that morning. "My boss wanted to know when you got here."
"Not the delectable Lisa Cuddy?" Linus asked.
"The very same." The nurse picked up a phone and hit a button. "Dr. Cuddy?"
A minute later, a woman with big hair came striding up and greeted Linus with a warm handshake. "So good to see you again, but so sorry it's under these circumstances. Dr. Wilson is expecting you, of course." She turned to the nurse. "NurseSparkman, perhaps you could take this gentleman and his friends up to Oncology? I'll get someone to cover the desk."
So they all set off for the oncology department, Nurse Sparkman leading the way, chatting to Linus, Raul a pace behind. Chris and Brian lagged behind slightly.
"Looks like Linus is getting VIP treatment," Brian remarked.
"He's given a lot of money to this hospital," Chris explained, waving a hand towards a big wooden plaque on the wall as they walked past. Brian paused just long enough to spot Linus's name.
An hour later, Linus was comfortably settled in his own personal hospital room. It was large and tastefully decorated, as far as hospital rooms went. It also had a second bed in it, but clearly a donor of Linus's stature would not be expected to share.
Nurse Sparkman ("Call me Jeffrey, please!") got Linus into bed, hovered a little and left with some reluctance, promising Linus he would be back during his next break.
The atmosphere once Nurse Jeffrey left was uncomfortably quiet and rather strained.
"Well, isn't this cozy?" Linus chattered, overly bright, obviously covering up nerves.
"Mmm." Raul was right next to Linus's bedside but his voice was barely audible. Brian guessed Raul was battling his hospital phobia, concentrating on breathing properly.
"Yeah." Chris stifled a yawn. He had traveled to Princeton straight from one of his restaurants that morning, and was clearly exhausted. He sat slumped in a chair, trying to blink dark shadows away from beneath his eyes.
Brian was silent, feeling like something of a third wheel. Raul and Chris were both clearly worried sick about Linus. Brian was very fond of Linus, loved him very much indeed, but compared to Raul the life partner and Chris the lifelong best friend, he was a relative newcomer and didn't quite cut it.
Things got a little easier as flowers kept arriving, sent by Linus's many friends and well-wishers. Soon the room looked more like a florist than a hospital room. And then people started popping and out to say hello.
Dr. Wilson was first in, to make sure all was okay for the afternoon's surgery. He nodded cheerfully to Brian and smiled rather hesitantly at Chris. Chris smiled back, some light coming back into his tired gray eyes, and thengoddamnit if he didn't flick his fair hair back and straighten up in the chair, shifting position to show off his crotch. Brian swelled with indignation for a few seconds.
It was soon ascertained that no, Linus hadn't eaten anything that morning, all was fine and the operation would be going ahead. As they came to the end of discussion and Wilson looked at his watch, Linus remarked as if in casual conversation, "I know we talked about this before, Wilson, but do tell my friends here that I will be able to enjoy sex without a prostate, and I'm not going to be a eunuch for the rest of my life."
Brian knew that both Raul and Chris were far more concerned for Linus's life than for his sex life, but Chris grinned and Raul blushed a little, and it served to break the tension a little.
"Well, there will be issues, and obviously nothing can be guaranteed," Wilson hastened to say, then smiled reassuringly. "Prostate surgery doesn't affect the anus or rectum at all. The incision will take a couple of months to heal fully afterwards, it may take a few months for full bladder control to return, and erectile dysfunction is likely to some degree. But we can do something about that--Viagra, injections--and if all goes well, Linus can have a normal sex life just like before. "
Chris's lips twitched at the word normal.
Wilson departed, and Lisa Cuddy came in as he left. She and Linus embarked on a conversation about a new piece of equipment. Apparently Linus had contributed to its purchase, and it had made a big contribution to the workload of the oncology department.
"I'm delighted to hear it's been so successful. I'd be happy to contribute again if you want to buy another such machine." Linus paused. ", I'm sure he's got most important duties elsewhere, but I was wondering if there was any chance of having Nurse Sparkman look after me while I'm here?"
Cuddy hesitated. "It's not usual practice--"
"He was such a darling, I would feel so comforted knowing he was around to monitor my vitals and mop my brow," Linus bulldozed on.
"--but I'll see what I can do." The dollar signs in Cuddy's eyes were so obvious that Brian nearly started laughing.
"I would be so grateful," Linus said, without apparent guile.
After she'd gone, Chris said with amusement, "You're bribing her to put a nurse here so you can sexually harass him."
"My dear Chris, you heard what Wilson said, I'll be in no state to do a thing for ages after this operation," Linus protested. "I just want something nice around to look at, that's all."
Next in the door was a friendly doctor with an accent Brian couldn't initially place, but eventually decided was Australian. Dr. Chase was a surgical specialist and would be assisting Wilson with the operation. Brian hadn't met him before, but Linus greeted him like a old friend, and Brian learned that Chase had become friendly with Linus on his first stay at PrincetonPlainsboro when Chase had been a brand new and very junior fellow.
"And now you're all grown up," Linus marveled.
"But somehow I'm still working for House," Chase admitted. "He's something of an irresistible force."
Brian's ears perked up at the mention of House. "Is House around?"
"You know House? He's around. Diagnostics is just down the corridor, near the elevator." Chase jerked a thumb to indicate the direction.
Brian glanced sideways at Chris, who shrugged. Brian figured he wouldn't be missed for a while, got up and left the room.
Brian wandered along the corridor and saw through glass walls House in an office, sitting behind a desk, twirling an over-sized tennis ball on one finger. Brian waved; House spotted him, grimaced, and mouthed go away.
Instead, Brian smiled and came into the office.
"Can't you lip-read?" House groused.
"Can't you mind read?" Brian batted back, and plumped himself down on a smart yellow leather chair in the corner.
"You're here with Chrissy-boy and his prostate pal. Moral support for Wilson's big operation this afternoon." House cradled the ball between both hands.
"It's a routine op, right?" Brian asked, knowing House might lie, but would not molly-coddle.
"As far as radical prostatectomies ever are." House bounced the ball on the floor and caught it. "I've seen the file."
"You see all Wilson's files?" Brian was curious.
"Maybe." House was airy. "But I'm not the only one taking an interest here; our boss Lisa Cuddy is on the case too. Her technical name for someone like your pal Linus is Super Donor."
Brian nodded knowingly. "So he'll get the best possible care."
"Wilson always gives the best possible care. But yeah, with Cuddy watching on, it'll make it hard for me to bump him out of the queue if my patient needs an operation this afternoon."
Brian hoped that House was joking, but played along. "Is that likely?"
House grinned. "Not unless I acquire a patient in the next few hours."
Brian grinned back. "Then I'll try not to keel over."
"You've been my patient before, I don't do repeats," House said loftily.
Brian had first met House in Princeton Plainsboro's clinic, several years ago now. "Oh, you'd do me if I was sick. I'd make you a cake."
"Am I so easily bought?" House's expression was pained. "Oh, alright, I am. If you make it plum pudding. I had a hankering for that the other day, like I had when I was in England one Christmas as a kid--a really old-fashioned rich kind of plum pudding."
"I could do that." Brian was solemn.
"Wilson can't, he tried to make one last year." House's lips quirked in remembered amusement. "It turned out more bowling ball than plum pudding.--Here comes Loverboy looking for you."
Brian looked up as Chris opened the office door and put his head inside, keeping his body firmly out of House's office.
"House." Chris's tone could not have been less enthusiastic.
"Chris." House returned a glare.
"Nurse Jeffrey's back, and he told us to leave." Chris addressed Brian. "He says Linus is over-excited and needs to relax before the operation, so Raul and I thought we'd go get something to eat in the cafeteria. See you downstairs?"
"I'll be with you in a sec," Brian assured, and Chris nodded and left.
Brian stretched in the chair and sat forward ready to leave, but stopped when House spoke.
"When did he last have a physical?" House asked abruptly.
"Chris?" Brian was surprised. "I don't know. A while ago. Why?"
"Firstly, he looks like death warmed up. And secondly, you don't look like you've been getting any lately."
Brian spluttered at the second point, but recovered quickly enough to counter, "And you call yourself a diagnostician?"
"Am I wrong?" House asked with an arch eyebrow.
"Yes, you're wrong!" Brian wasn't letting House get away with that. (Okay, so it had been a week or so... Chris had been busy... a week wasn't that long. Damn).
House shrugged. "Chris was always an over-sexed pervert. Fact. Frankly, I'd expect you to look more....fulfilled."
Brian pushed away the question as to quite how House had come to have that impression of Chris, and hastened with an explanation. "He's been working too hard, that's all. One of his restaurants is being refurbished, it's re-opening tomorrow. He's worked non-stop the last forty-eight hours, so he could leave it and come here to be with Linus. He drove here all the way from Atlantic City this morning on his motorcycle."
"He owns these places, right?" House said peevishly. "Why's he working so hard? Doesn't he employ staff to do the donkey work, like I do?"
"His manager there's a bit flaky," Brian admitted. "Guy called Micky, he tends to panic and call Chris if anything goes even slightly wrong." Brian didn't think much of Micky, but he'd been working for Chris for quite a few years.
"Well, tell him to fire Mickey Mouse and hire someone who actually does some work," House declared. "I'd tell him myself, but somehow I think he's more likely to listen to you."
Brian grinned at the thought of Chris's reaction if House tried to give him lifestyle advice. "I'll talk to him. After Linus's operation."
"I might go watch it," House said carelessly. "There's a viewing balcony for us doctors. I can shout down if Wilson takes the wrong organ out."
They returned to Linus's room after a quick meal, to find Linus had indeed relaxed in their absence. Nurse Jeffrey had quite the magic touch, Brian mused. Maybe literally.
Linus went into surgery that afternoon on schedule. Brian, Chris and Raul waited in a rather stark waiting area near the operating room. Raul was almost silent, sitting hunched up on his chair, as if concentrating on holding himself together.
Chris, by contrast, seemed to wake up following the food and some coffee, and started talking cheerfully, joking about Linus and his beloved prostate, telling some amusing stories about times past. It seemed to relax Raul a little, and Brian was pleased that Chris had shrugged off the tiredness.
Three hours later, House appeared from a side door. Neither Chris nor Raul moved; it was Brian who stood up and loped over to ask, "Well?"
"All good," House said simply, and ambled off down a corridor.
It was a relief, but Chris muttered darkly something about not trusting House any more than he could throw him, and they waited patiently a while longer before Wilson appeared. As soon as they saw him, the tension was instantly released. Wilson was wreathed in smiles.
"It went very well. Textbook operation. And we found that the cancer was still confined to the prostate, so hopefully that will be it."
"Thank fuck for that!" Chris said with feeling. Brian clapped him on the shoulder, delighted, then hugged Raul.
"Can we see him?" Raul asked tremulously. His expression had hardly changed, as if he wasn't quite letting himself believe the good news.
"Soon." Wilson reassured them. "He's in the recovery room right now, we'll move him to his hospital bed when he's ready, and you can see him when he wakes up, maybe in a couple of hours. He'll be groggy and sleeping mostly for a day or two."
"I need a drink," Chris announced fervently. "Wilson, can I buy you one? A very, very large one? A magnum of champagne, perhaps?"
Wilson laughed and looked at his watch, and decided out loud that it was the end of the day, he wasn't seeing any more patients, so perhaps he could just have one beer.
They went to a nearby bar, where a round went down very swiftly, and Chris and Wilson both followed their beer with a whiskey chaser. Chris and Wilson chatted in an animated way, and Brian remembered once again that they had been in a relationship. It had lasted six months, he'd heard; not long in the grand scheme of things. Long enough to give them some easy familiarity. Chris laughed at something Wilson said, and Brian reflected that Chris really had woken up now. The previous exhaustion seemed forgotten.
Maybe Wilson had this effect on him. Brian chided himself for having such a thought, and quelled the jealous pang. Wilson was with House and there was absolutely no danger of House allowing anyone to encroach onto his territory.
Chris suggested another round, but Raul demurred, and when Wilson remarked that Linus might be waking up soon, they all headed back together.
They returned to find Nurse Jeffrey Sparkman outside Linus's room, in conversation with a short doctor who Brian had not seen before.
"Everybody, this is Dr. Taub," Nurse Jeffrey introduced the newcomer as they approached.
"I work for Dr. House," Taub explained. He looked upwards at Brian.
"House sent you to check up on Linus?" Brian was surprised.
"No, actually, he told me to look for one of his friends, the tall fair one in the leather pants." Taub's eyes skated past Brian to Chris. "You're Chris? How are you--are you feeling okay?"
Brian turned, and found Chris leaning against the wall with one hand. He looked pale, much paler than he had done a few minutes before.
"I'm fine," Chris snapped, and there was a slight wheeze in his voice. "Just a bit--tired."
Alarm coalesced in Brian's stomach and shot through his body. "Chris? What's wrong?" Brian took a step towards Chris and put a hand on his arm. Close up, he could see a sheen of sweat on Chris's forehead, and Brian's alarm swelled mightily into near-panic.
"Stop it!" Chris pushed him away. "Look, Brian, I'll go see a doctor at home if you want, but not now. And I'm not fucking well being treated by House--"
And he stopped suddenly, gasping, and clutched at his chest.
"Chris?" Brian said with mounting fear.
"Can't--breathe--" Chris mouthed, and then his eyes closed, his legs gave way, and he collapsed to the floor.
"Chris!" Brian shouted in terror, and then all was chaos as doctors and nurses descended from all sides.
END OF PART 1