New Year's High Title: New Year's High Rating: R Pairing: Summary: House and Wilson spend New Year's together. Note: Written for the 12_stories prompt "New Year's Eve". Warning: Drugs and alcohol usage.
Wilson and House both sat drunk and high in House's apartment New Year's Eve. Some New Year's show played on the T.V. while House and Wilson slurred to each other.
“Want another beer?” House asked. Wilson nodded and House stumbled to the kitchen.
“I love you,” Wilson said as House handed him his beer.
“Are you a wife tonight or do you really mean that?” House said blinking furiously, trying to focus.
Wilson sipped his beer and said, “I mean it. And you mean it too, and I mean it as well.”
House took a long swig of his beer. “Yeah, I do.” He took another drink. “I'm all out. Want to get me a beer this time?”
“Yeah, I'll be back in five.” Wilson walked to the kitchen. When he opened the fridge he found that there wasn't any more beer. “There's none!” he shouted.
“None what?”
“Beer! We're out!”
“I have scotch under the sink!”
Wilson walked back to the sofa and handed House a glass for the scotch. Wilson poured them a glass each and said, “Here’s to gay sex that we'll never have.”
House leaned in and laid his head on Wilson's shoulder. “We can have it; just my leg is dead and doesn't want any anymore.”
“Shoot the leg and maybe it'll wake up and want sex again.”
“He even doesn't want hookers!” House said. “Now, what kind of respectable leg doesn't want sex from a beautiful hooker?”
“A fucked-up leg, that's who.” Wilson drank from his glass. “This shit burns.”
“Must be rum.”
“Must be brandy.”
“No, it's rum. Look at the color.”
Wilson looked at his glass and said, “You're high, if you can see that color.”
“Then you must be high, too, if you can see it.”
“I can't, since you're the only one who's high.”
House nodded his head in agreement. “I'm always high at home.”
“I'm high at work sometimes, in the closet.”
“Did you come out yet?” House smiled at him.
“Yep, tonight. I said 'I love you' remember?” Wilson kissed House's head. He just 'awed' in reply.
“You do love me or you wouldn't have done that.”
“I also ironed your boxer shorts once.”
House looked at Wilson curiously. “Why?”
“I was being nice.”
“Oh!” He then grabbed Wilson's face and kissed him. Wilson smiled into the kiss and mumble on House's lips, “You're so fucked up right now, you're kissing your best friend on a holiday.”
“I know,” House mumbled back.
“I'm so fucking happy.”
“I know.” House kissed Wilson again, who in his high and drunk mind, was very happy indeed.