tjballer (tjballer) wrote in 10prompts, @ 2008-12-07 18:48:00 |
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Entry tags: | author: tjballer, character: gregory house, fandom: house |
Tis The Season...-Greg House/James Wilson PG
Title: Tis the Season...
Author: Tjballer
Summary: House has Christmas dinner with the family.
Pairing: House/Wilson (friendship)
Table, Prompt: 7, Dining Room
Rating: PG to be safe (For...mentions of alcohol?)
Warnings: DrunkWilson! DrunkJohnHouse!
A/N: ...I'm...getting ready for the holidays in my own way?
Words: 901
Beta: All mistakes are mine.
As House slowly limped up those four stone steps he had walked many a times before, he hesitated. He was trying to figure out how Wilson had managed to persuade him into eating Christmas dinner with his parents. Eating with his father and mother wasn’t exactly House’s grand way of celebrating Christmas. He would much rather be at home in his comfy little couch, watching some old John Wayne western and eating Chinese take out with bourbon.
Instead, he was making that final gap between himself and the doorbell to eat dinner with his parents. What had Wilson persuaded him with that was so tempting?
Oh, right.
Wilson would do two weeks worth of clinic duty for him, and go watch a monster truck rally with him. No wonder he had decided to go to this preposterous family dinner. Hunching slightly because of the cold, House slowly inched his finger to the doorbell.
He really didn’t want to do this. He had gone so many Christmas’s before without having to come here and eat, why now? Frustrated, he jammed the doorbell, and waited impatiently out on the porch steps. House heard excited mumbling coming from the other side of the door, and in another moment, the door opened, letting out the bright light.
“Greg!” exclaimed Blythe, reaching for her son. “You actually made it! Come on in, sweet heart.”
“Hi, mom.” Replied House, bending down slightly, letting his mother indulge in kissing him on the cheek. He carefully stepped inside, blinking a couple of times to adjust his eyes to the bright room. He shrugged off his jacket and hung it up on the coat rack as he followed his mother to the dining room.
As he entered, House wasn’t surprised to see his dad seated already at the head of the table. What surprised him the most was who was sitting next to him.
“Wilson?” he said, trying to piece the puzzle pieces together.
“Hi, House!” Replied Wilson happily. Standing up, he went over to greet his friend.
House eyed Wilson carefully. If he didn’t know any better, he could have sworn that Wilson had gone colorblind as well as drunk. His friend was wearing a dark green oxford shirt with a bright red tie, brown slacks, Christmas socks for godsakes, and loafers.
And to top it all off, he had on that ridiculous moose looking thing again.
“What are you wearing?” House asked, appalled.
“It’s Christmas. There’s no harm in getting festive for the occasion.”
“Mom…what did dad give him to drink?”
“I don’t know, John?”
John House looked slightly hazy himself too. “Hello, son. Nice of you to join us. Seems like you’re late again. But what more could I expect from you? Ha, ha, ha.”
He looked incredibly happy at making his own lame joke.
“What did you give him?” House stated, jabbing a finger towards Wilson who was now jumping from toe to toe, yanking the string so that the antler flapped.
John House started laughing uncontrollably once he saw Wilson’s antics. He was turning red in the face, and clutching his stomach from laughing so hard.
“Hahaha, well, wouldya look at that? Looks like James can’t hold his liquor too well, eh? Well, damn, Greg, he’s the complete opposite of you.”
Blythe tried to keep a straight face on as she watched her son’s best friend act like a four year old on sugar. “John…what did you give to James?”
“A couple of shots of brandy, some eggnog with liquor in it, not too bad.” John said, howling with laughter again as Wilson started doing some funky dance move.
“Oh. My. God.” House said, not sure whether to be horrified, or amused. Wilson was making a fool out of himself, which could definitely mean black mail material. However, getting a drunk Wilson home was not fun at all.
After a moment’s ponder, he limped away as quickly as he could, going over to the kitchen. Rummaging through the drawers, he found a huge bowl, which he promptly dunked in the sink to fill the brim with water. After doing so, gripping the bowl with his left hand, he stormed back over to the dining room, and threw the whole bowl of water onto Wilson. His father could remain drunk for all he cared.
Wilson blinked and sputtered, completely doused in ice-cold water. Blythe gasped, covering her mouth with her hand, and John remained laughing hysterically.
“Guh?” Was Wilson’s first somewhat sober response. Blythe had gone and fetched a towel and handed it to Wilson.
“Dinner hasn’t even started and you were drunk.” House grumbled, watching Wilson slowly regain the use of his conscious thinking brain. House could see Wilson start to get back to himself, and with that, of course, struck embarrassment.
“I…oh…I’m so sorry! I didn’t realize I-“
House rolled his eyes at his friend. “You’re not the only one. My mother’s spouse has turned into a hyena.”
After Wilson had dried himself off, they all set down to eat, the food being really good, and House for once, sort of glad that he wasn’t eating at home with his Chinese take-out.
House remarked to Wilson, jabbing his rib slightly, “MY only regret is that I didn’t film this all to put on YouTube. That would have been a hit.”
“Shut up, House.” Wilson mumbled, cheeks turning as red as his tie.