Title: A Christmas to All
Summary: And to all a good night. Set after "Wilson", since we get no awesome Christmas special this year. Wilson has House throw a Christmas party--House reflects on the bond and growing trust the boys have shared. *House/Wilson
Authors Notes: Damn. This last week's "Wilson" was just fantastic.
Tried to put in a few chapters of my other stories before posting this up; but blah blah excuses--and genuinely wished I'd worked over this fic a bit more. I'd be seriously tempted not to put it out with my other ones, but Christmas Spirit and all.
Really hope it sticks well to the characters as always--and hey--! As always, comments and critique are openly welcomed.
"Dancing, and prancing---in Jingle Bell Square. In the frosty aaaair--!"
Wilson moved about the new apartment; setting up the tree. Painfully cheery. His little gay antler reindeer hat nested nicely against his hair while the background playing that music for the season in the large space around him. Straining while on his toes to get the lights fully and decently around the fake, brilliantly green tree, all to House's newly arriving view.
".....There is a Christmas Tree. In our new loft." The voice broke his continued attempts. Glancing to House; the man gives a little grin.
"House--get over here. Help me put this thing up, will you."
"Yea--doesn't work that great for the cane. But again I ask---"
The genius doctor takes a few deliberate steps; eyeing the tree up and down. Dressed in his usual winter wear and army green beanie; stepping passed the rows of unorganized boxes and items that have yet to find a place in the two doctor's new apartment. Pausing once reaching a good distance and facing Wilson, brow quirked.
"Tree. What is it doing here."
"Oh I'm just....--" And Wilson grunts a little; straining to toss the chain of lights a bit higher. Damn. Still too tall. Why couldn't he be a little taller.
Of course when it became obvious he'd be giving up on the attempt; House examining his friend--Wilson looks back behind him for a step ladder that had been here earlier; obviously contemplating where to go next. "--bringing in the Christmas cheer and all."
Ah--there it was. Handing the string of lights to House; Wilson bends over underneath one of the chairs near the very large, very tall counters--reaching for the step ladder. House takes the lights, noting with amusement as the Oncologists ass wiggles a little while the doctor scrambles for it--but sure to keep his voice rich with continued sarcasm.
"Your Jewish. Jews don't celebrate Christmas." House and insensarity: 1, Wilson still with: 0. Wilson undetered, smiling and shrugging.
"It's a holiday. It's fun. And besides." Finally peaking back out--dragging the ladder along with him, "It couldn't be worse than eating Chinese and take out. And hey, this way we have an excuse not to go to the faculty party if we have one of our own."
Ohhh Wilson always knew his weaknesses. House was never a fan of these faculty and staff parties--particularly not generally the patient glares, remarks and in the past at least--the fun times after with invitations from his team.
Except last year--and he was reminded with a slight jolt of Kutner; his face beaming apologetically as he offered a few days before Christmas if he wanted to join the team for Christmas dinner.
"Hmm...we're going to need more than chicken and raviolli..." Shit. It was a tough decision. His comment left with a little bit of quiet defeat.
Give into the lights and facade of Christmas's poisoning misleading tradition--or grunt his disappointments, disappoint his friend, and go back to that faculty meeting with a pathetically sad reindeer-hat-Wilson....
Hmmmm. Options.
His "dear" friend perked up--again. Way too cheery for his own good.
"No worries; I've already got everything set. All we have to do is be here and enjoy the season."
"No...guests? No dates?" Wilson glanced over; now standing on the step ladder which...actually really only made him marginally more taller as he continued to have trouble with wrapping the lights around.
His friend blinked a little.
"Uh...well. Unless you think we should have people over. Actually--" House winced a little, still watching from his place at the floor as Wilson nearly lost his footing when stretching too far--balancing himself just only. He could see the headlines--Death by Fake Tree: Ironic Twist of fate for Oncology Doctor. "Maybe a little company wouldn't be that bad. As long as it's not Cuddy--it'd be a good chance to invite your team along."
Leaning heavier against his cane; quiping his tone with a bit of a usual childish tone.
"And...this is different from faculty staff parties how...?"
Still watching his friend teeter with life and death--or maybe just a mouthful of fake pine needles with the way he was trying to hug around the tree. Tempted to maybe point out this fact or--hell if anything; take photos and replace Wilson's decorated collection of family Christmas cards. Might go for a good laugh to somebody.
"It's--company. And your team. And it's always nice for them to....know they're liked every once and a while." Giving a bit of defeat, Wilson steps back. Goddamn did his friend ever need to just lasso the lights or forget them altogether. Not that the effort didn't show--but somehow House figured he could go without all the decorations. Already in good order with scoffing at his team every Christmas for their decorative efforts--a tradition gone unbroken. "Besides. It's a good chance to drink. And make those lovely jello margarita shots you've been wanting to recreate."
"This is true."
With a sigh of pride; Wilson finally managed to get the string of lights all the way around for the third time. Standing straight to get a good view on how it looked--and going about straightening a few of the bendy fake branches for effect. A miracle he hadn't died in the process. House considered his friend's words--while in full knowledge of how anti-Christmas he generally was. The one thing that deterred him from the idea altogether. Hell... Throwing a party would mean a lot of thank yous. And a lot of those godawful "oh House is so nice" looks he tended to hate.
And he'd have to suffer through all the jokes and quips on him being in a "Christmas spirit" or "Scrooge" or something--well if it did happen he'd spend the time in the other room watching TV.
And....over all---it would also mean an excuse to cheer up Wilson. And to make some nice party adjustments. He'd go so far to say let Cuddy in on their devious little plot of loft apartment domination--but again with the whole trying to make Wilson not depressed or wanting to kill him. He definitely liked when Wilson didn't want to kill him. This was a very good thing.
".....Alright. But Christmas day we get to ourselves. And a box of Chinese...and some beer. And don't set out that Christmas cookie crap---" Pointing a finger while his best friend digs now through a box of--...Christmas ornaments and candy canes... Real nice. "I don't care if your cousin sends you a dozen of them."
And as he limps toward the other room (it was a very...very large loft), he catches Wilson's slight grin and nod.
"Yea...Amen to that."
His cousin's cookies...who would like those stale chunks of lead.
Christmas Eve....the decorations Wilson spent hours setting up all across the dining area and general open parts of the house. House had spent most of the time sitting around in the same room doing his very best to annoy his buddy at any opportunity--which Wilson took in great strides. Flickering popcorn cernals at his friend--commenting loudly on the effort; generally watching amused and having some fun conversation alongside it. There were wreaths, lights; even mistletoe while House had deliberately groaned and gone with the "Like you can get any more cliche, Wilson' remark to finish off his little annoying ten-year-old tirade.
Over all it had felt like time well spent--at least for the preparation stage.
His best friend seemed happy with how the place had turned out; House helping him cook and ending up doing most of it himself more out of boredom (maybe a little bit to help Wilson). The both of them talking openly--more now than ever before. The move into the loft ending up the best for both sides of the relationship; more open, certainly more agreeable and during their hours still at the hospital--practically attached to the hip it seemed. So much so that House's team took to making small comments and poking fun at any given chance. And he took to fueling it by giving his own quips and grand entrances of "Sorry, Wilson needed a quickie--or...are you guys not ready for diagnostics" to get them hopefully sick of it sooner rather than later.
There were a total of a dozen people there--mostly just his team, a fairly angry Cuddy (Damn Wilson had gotten caught once the "Dean of Medicine" had over heard Taub and Thirteen talking about it.), Lucas, and a few other who the hell cared invited from Wilson or the members of his fine little group of lackies. Each of which had--once again brought him a present aside from Chase. But hell, even Foreman with a resigned kind of look, but a smile. Handing him a tie he'd never admit wasn't half bad.
Most of them were left unwrapped on his bed.
"This seems to have turned out well."
Too well, in his opinion. It had already been a good deal of the night; thing finally wrapping up. House having spent as he'd vowed, the majority of it in the other room watching football. Wilson was more of the people person.
"Cuddy might even get over the whole..."stealing her loft" thing." The Diagnostician quipped, both of them looking in unison to her and Lucas laughing and enjoying themselves. The steady sounds of Christmas music in the background (Wilson's choice); everyone seemingly content. Either with themselves or with as a pair--even Chase seemed to smile into his cup of cranberry juice with Thirteen and Foreman talking at the same counter; the Aussie a general loner and general spitting image of House himself now a days.
Wilson frowned beside him at his comment; nodding only enough for him to just catch.
"Yea...kind of a shame."
"Would leave this whole "stealing loft thing" without as much purpose." He agreed; almost as if an after thought. Both the friends now more than ever great at this telekinesis language thing.
Wilson took a sip of his drink; something House had earlier laced with alcohol--his reindeer antlers drooping a little while the party continued around them. House half tempted to just ditch or maybe return to the other room if he could manage--so much more fun in annoying Wilson at every step of making and planning this party than actually the here and now of it existing. Again with Wilson being more of the "people person."
Wilson caught his eye, lowering his cup a little.
"....What?"
"....Just thinking."
"Yea...?"
"It's Christmas tomorrow."
His friend raised his brows casually, but just nods his head as if he understood whatever point it was House was making--which they both easily knew he didn't. Just humoring him; a part of one of the many dances they tended to go ahead and play.
"I mean it's Christmas tomorrow. How about we go...do something." Gesturing a hand off to the door.
Of course the comment not going over the best--Wilson pretending to look shock. More for theatrics sake; him smiling childishly so as not to encourage his friend.
"I thought you hated Christmas."
"I do. Doesn't mean we can't get in a bar and drink ourselves dumb. Besides, you already promised."
Before his friend could reply--not that he had to; the grin he wore always saying enough--Taub poked in beside them. Damn him for being so short--giving the both of them a good, humorous smile.
"You two want to join us? We made a bet. After dinner we're heading to that cafe and bar near the hospital."
"Can't you see we're busy flirting." House quipped snarkishly; leaving Taub to nod without reaction--the genius doctor's comments always on the move to throw people off for his own general and continuous amusement--or in this case; join in on the jokes his team members were making behind and in front of his back. If only for the Christmas spirit; indicate the sarcastic process here.
Wilson nor his team member phased--all too used to House's little crazy world.
"Alright well. If you two lovebirds change your mind, we'll be over there tonight." Turning to House. "Thanks again for the party." And then to Wilson. "Specially you--as I'm assuming you're the one who made it happen."
Starting away now with a backwards wave. House looking after for a second expression filled with feign insult. Yelling after his employee while the others grabbed their things to leave.
"Oh of course--give him all the credit--!" The sarcastic remark gone again, in stride with everyone involved in the party.
"Bye House. Merry Christmas." Thirteen speaking up while slipping on her scarf. Smiling and looking genuinely happy.
God, her and her Christmas cheer-the woman offering him and Wilson a wave.
"Night House." Foreman speaking too now as he started to the door; back in his coat and seemingly cheery as ever. Or--well. Cheery as Foreman got. House forcing his ever sarcastic smile, while secretly trying to figure out how long it would be until his team left. Chase taking the time to wave the others off with a casual, "I'll meet you there" and pausing long enough to dig a present from his pocket. Hand it to House and leave with a warm smile (something not very worn for the Aussie) and a quick, "Merry Christmas boss." Before trailing out behind the others.
Huh....The Diagnostician looked off after them.
Christmas gifts from all his team. That had to be record.
Wilson was smiling too, amused and for an obvious different reason. The man obviously insufferably amused. Leaving them as the last ones there; thankfully. House hated neat get together parties--most of the time. Unless they involved drunken flings and an extremely amusing drunk-ass Wilson. And though for tonight, the tossing-things-into-Cuddy's-drink dinner thing was fun (not to mention spending ample time flipping channels in the next room to have the Aussie lean over the sofa and watch alongside him.....Like he'd mentioned; spitting image of his boss) he was still glad it was over.
"Well. That was sweet of him." Wilson genuinly cheerful--at least there was that. Wilson always did get some pleasure out of the holidays and making people a little happy which in turn was good for him he supposed. The man was a saint. Even while House did miss their usual loner Christmas and Chinese tradition--hey, at least there was that first part. And getting drunk tomorrow and eating really bad fast food would have to make up for that.
"Sweet of all of them." Grinning in pride a juvenile grin with the red wrapped present in hand. "Got presents from every single one. Even Foreman. Who knew I was so loved." Showing off the gift with a quick hand toss onto the table. He'd be sure to group it together with the other ones later.
Predictably though, with a shake of his head and an ever amused smile--Wilson started going around and collecting dishes. Cleaning up. The man was helpful at the worst of times. Chase and the rest of his team (probably with the knowledge he'd toss sarcastic comments at them later if they hadn't) had ended up cleaning up their own dishes politely; being sure not to make too much of a mess when it didn't involve football and the beer cans left in the other room.
But then that had just been him, Chase and eventually Foreman and Taub.
"Ohh you're loved. Just....." House eyeing his friend while the Oncologist looked back behind him; seeming to search for the right words. House actually and against his usual desire of any kind, picking up a plate or so to help out a little. Both now side by side near the damned huge sink as the other man continued; "....Also afraid. And perhaps struck with Stockholm Syndrome...."
"There is that."
"Think there's still time to order up Chinese?"
Wilson certainly knew him too well--that was the only Christmas thing he wasn't afraid to ditch. Therapy and the whole inpatient asylum giving House a much more broader spectrum for a lot of things sure; but still so much more content with the normal run of tradition. Catching the smile and returning an amused one of his own just as the door to their apartment opened once more.
"Jesus Wilson. You act as if I didn't love all that crappy food we made." The grin they shared was short lived--both looking over their shoulders. Cut off as Cuddy strode back in.
Thank god she seemed a lot more patient and nicer to the both of them since the party began and ended (maybe not the best revenge as the woman had an insane tolerance for patience and pain)--picking up her purse from the seat she'd taken at the counter. Glancing up at them, a little tired but happy and pausing. Suddenly--just giving that damned slight laugh she always seemed to give. Amused, obviously. House wasn't particularly following; patiently (or not so patiently) waiting for the woman to speak up.
House would say it was Wilson's ridiculous hat--but figured the laugh was a little bit late for that.
Cuddy looked at the both of them again; their expressions and while trying to keep a straight face still ended up breaking out with stifled laughter---something that if anything tipped House off as to some kind of prank or something that had been pulled.
"What, is my cane not subtle enough."
Had to be it. He lifted the highly decorated Christmas cane--sarcasm clear.
As a prank---or maybe revenge Lucas had replaced his usual cane with a candy cane one earlier in the day. House had gone through a mop, a chair--anything and everything to get from stubbornly using the damn thing, while his team mates constant amusement ended with him just "you know what" and ending up with the cane again anyways.
Wilson, goddamn him; forever amused.
Cuddy however, shook her head; hand covering her mouth to stifle it. Smiling her tired but infectious smile; looking at the pair of confused boys. House feeling Wilson's eyes--his friend probably thinking Cuddy was giving some form of devious well played revenge.
House found himself in reluctant agreeal.
"Oh it's....it's nothing." House frowning, still studying the woman. He glanced to Wilson just to be sure someone hadn't scribbled a mustache on his face without him noticing. The door to the apartment opened and shut again--jesus christ and here he'd figured the party over--Lucas strolling back in. Also very annoyingly happy.
"Hey Lisa I---"
The PI took in the scene. Stopping in his tracks. House looking him over--Lucas staring once more to the pair of them. At first a little surprised. Wilson exchanged a look with him, House finding himself speaking up at the same time as Wilson,
"What---?"
Lucas. The bastard--grinned.
"You two....uh, might want to look up."
Look up---?
Shit.
House felt a slight click against his brain and horrible mental groan, not having to even do so while his friend went ahead and did what he was told. Oh for heaven's....
"You two are so juvenile." He more over teased; kid like tone clear. "Really. And on Christmas Eve."
"House." Wilson was still staring up.
"It's just...." Lucas grinning. Looking above House's head too. House rolling his eyes and glancing for more everyone else's sake. Sure enough--mistletoe. Really witty. "It's so perfect. I mean if I had a camera I'd think you two--"
"Yea, yea I get it. Gay as a pair of tight knit red sweaters---"
"Well, there is the buying a new apartment together..." Cuddy's smile practically heard in her voice.
"We...were living together long before that." Wilson put in---why was he still staring above him was beyond him.
"Like you didn't remember where that was." He hissed to his friend, nudging him a little. Wilson a little surprised and taken off guard.
"Well....you know what they say..." Cuddy still amused; Lucas's voice grinning as big as his own smile. Staring at the very large mistletoe with the sign stacked above it---"Dr. Wilson/Dr. House--Have a Merry Christmas".
Hey. So not fair.
He hadn't noticed that second one before; baffled for a second and a little bit annoyed any of his team had had the time or chance to stick that there.
"Christmas...is the time for love."
Grinning, the two morons together. Lucas's voice ringing with his amusement and with an arm around Cuddy now--House watching after them and finally making a childish face while they turned to leave for a final effect.
"Have a Merry Christmas, House. Dr. Wilson." Cuddy called, a little too happy--House ready with a quip of his own about two female strippers as they continued on their merry way.
Oh right. Such a brilliant prank.
"Sure--it's fun when girls do it but when it's two guys it's just gay---!" Yelling after them.
See, right on cue.
He turned to see his friend. Still staring in a quirky, kind of intrigued and confused manner at the mistletoe above them. He seemed in thought; House rolling his eyes.
"You know you don't have to stare at it forever, Wilson." And saying this, Wilson seemed to consider. Pausing to nod his head if just slightly.
"You know." Turning to look at him finally. House looking still to the side; leaning against his cane and over all in thought. Wilson's tone as-a-matter-of-factly. "It. Is bad luck not to kiss under a mistle toe."
What--wait. With that. House looked back. Taken off guard for 3.5 seconds, winding back with his usual sarcastic wit coming 3.5 seconds too late.
That was a long time for House. And a long time for him to try and figure whether or not his friend was kidding; going more for the "Wilson is fucking with you" option he so loved.
"Hey--you probably taste like ass." Was his immediate (delayed) retort after which--"I think any bad luck curse is worth the avoiding taste o--"
And...
...Being kissed by Wilson was no different than being kissed by a girl.
Except for maybe the fact he wasn't a girl and it was Wilson kissing him.
Standing in an amount of shock. Trying to process the moment against his brain.
His friend's taste surprisingly fresh and surprisingly clean--left over chicken and broccoli from the meal not to mention the sweet after taste of alcohol in that drink he'd given him. Pausing with much too much stand alone shock to not give access or let the moment draw off for as long as it did. Finding it both refreshing, surprising---and extremely relieving.
Staring back at his good buddy's eyes; Wilson staring at him too. Him staring at Wilson. Catching the moment of complete and utter pause with a final silence breaking,
"Well....that." Pausing again. The words coming out flat and unfinished.
"Well. We won't have bad luck now. Looks like you're saved." Wilson beating him to the chase; breathing a little heavier and with a sort of serious, sarcastic witty tone he usually used casually when making jokes against House's dry, bitter humor.
House nodding numbly.
"Yea....wouldn't want to...." Swallowing--stop staring at Wilson. Get his head in the right order-- Wilson nodding his usual, too casual agreement to House's trailed off unfinished thoughts.
Still somehow, exactly the same.
Still somehow Wilson with his damned "I didn't steal your guitar", "I didn't change meals to mess with you", "I didn't toy with your desk" innocent look.
"Guess we should finish here." His friend commented; grinning at House, while House in turn just stood like a moron; nodding again. Thought and a little more shifting through the gears in his brain; pretty much struck in the same distracted, caught off state for most of the rest of the night.
Where as Wilson was caught in the same, innocent-go-lucky phase he tended to get extreme enjoyment from and that usually drove House mad whenever it caught up to him.
When Wilson went to bed that night; all House could think about was that. Staring off in the darkness, considering--contemplating; running the best and most complicated question of---why. It was awful and cruel how easily Wilson jerked his chain. Easily pursuing and writing this off as if it was nothing--but deep down. The bastard knowing exactly what it was doing. And House knowing exactly what he was doing.
It was a curse. It was his damn...annoying--manipulative little ass.
House himself laying in the dark trying to figure out this game. Getting quickly sick of it. And heading straight down the hall and into Wilson's room. Gruffly waking him up, dropping his cane at the side while pushing himself onto the bed. Wilson grunting sleepily while he grabbed the manipulative bitch into another, much more satisfying kiss. Yea. Much. Much more satisfying.
The best friend's muffled "MMmff---" drowned out in the dim room; giving no time for waking up completely. Revenge was best served cold, really.
It was funny what they say, people outside the group of individuals. Rumors, thoughts theories--so much bitterly ironic still how it usually ends up so damn true. He had to curse irony for it--and life.
Wherever else; ages away. Or maybe just in a seat at another apartment; a movie screen hit on pause as Lucas leans back. Grinning.
"Oh yea. Cuddy will love me for this."
Pushing off his chair; he sits foreword amused and extremely, extremely pleased. Cuddy wanted revenge--here at its finest. Plus--hey, a good Christmas gift for House and Dr. Wilson too--what with them not ruining his chances with Cuddy or the time they spent together. No need to be stingy on Christmas, right...?
Popping the disk out from the camera he'd set up at the front door pointed to the mistletoe--still over all sufficiently proud of himself for meeting his manipulation and PI bonus quota for the week. Quietly noting to himself to do this kind of thing much, much more often.
Damn. And would House's team ever get a load of this--he'd totally won that bet hands down.