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Feb. 19th, 2007 | 09:23 am
posted by: andrealyn in santahouse_md

For simple__man:

Title: Wiggle Room
Rating: PG-13
Pairing: House/Wilson
Summary: Neither one of them celebrate Christmas but for some reason they're spending it together.



Christmas Eve, 2001.

House opened the door, took one look at Wilson standing there with his hands full of Chinese food, and didn't say a word, just swung the door open wider and limped back into the living room. He slumped onto the couch, kicked his feet up onto the coffee table, and took a swig of the beer he'd left sitting in a ring of perspiration on the wood.

"Merry Christmas to you too," said Wilson, and House could almost hear eyes rolling. He did hear the door slamming closed, probably from Wilson kicking it with his shiny black loafers.

"You're Jewish," House said.

"So?" Wilson set the bag onto the coffee table and began pulling out little cartons of food.

"And I'm an Atheist."

"It's Christmas. There's wiggle room. Look, I got shrimp lo mein."

"See, the Chinese food restaurant didn't care that it was Christmas," House said. "What are you doing here anyway? Shouldn't you be off hanging stockings or something with Janey?"

"Julie. For god's sake, House, we've been married for over a year."

"I know, I was there. Worst day of my life. How long until you realize that too?"

"Shut up."

"So why aren't you home with what's her name? You know I don't give a shit about holidays." House picked up the remote control with one hand and a pair of chopsticks with the other, plunging into the carton of lo mein as he flipped through It's a Wonderful Life and A Christmas Story and finally settled on an old episode of M.A.S.H.

"I thought you might want the company. Since, you know..." Wilson stared down into some Mongolian pork. "Your first Christmas without Stacy."

House snorted. "That's what this is about? It's not my first Christmas without her. I had like... thirty-five or something Christmases without her. Besides, she left. She had a good reason."

Wilson sighed. "Which was?"

"I'm an ass."

"Yeah, but you were an ass because of your leg, because you blamed her..."

"No, I'm just an ass. Hey, at least she stayed with me for over a year after. Turns out it's bad form to run off on a cripple without a really good reason."

"I can't imagine why she didn't love hearing this," Wilson muttered, digging into the carton of beef with his chopsticks.

House balanced his chopsticks precariously on the lip of his beer bottle as he rummaged around in his pocket for the prescription bottle. He popped off the lid with practiced ease and swallowed two Vicodin dry.

"You know, House, the new year might not be a bad time to start weaning you off of..."

"Great idea. I'll get right on that." House shoved the bottle back into his pocket and grabbed both the chopsticks and the beer, which he finished off in one gulp. "You want one?"

"How many have you had already?"

"Enough. I didn't know I was going to have company." House just looked at Wilson for a moment, making no move to get up off of the couch.

"I'll get them," Wilson sighed, pulling himself to his feet.

While he was gone, House flipped through the channels again, landing on a Britney Spears music video. "How old do you think she is?" he called into the kitchen.

"Who?" Wilson returned with the beers and handed one to House, who didn't take the offered bottle opener, just opened it on the edge of the coffee table, which was now chipped all to hell.

"What's her name. Britney. Is she legal?"

"What do you care? You think she'd be interested in you?"

House scowled. "She could do better than a cripple?"

"No, she could do better than an ass. You're also old enough to be her father. Change the channel."

"Oh, don't pretend you're not looking. You're a year into your marriage now, isn't it getting to be about that time?" House shoved an entire egg roll into his mouth and washed it down with beer.

"That's disgusting," Wilson said, and House had no idea if he was talking about the implication that he was cheating on his wife or House's table manners.

"At least you could get some ass if you wanted it," House muttered as he reached for a carton of rice.

"So could you. You're single now, remember?"

"Oh, right." House grabbed his cane from the side of the couch. "Chicks dig this. Better than a sports car."

Wilson frowned. "So is that what this mood's about? You're upset about Stacy leaving because you think that no one else is going to want you?"

House regarded him evenly. He wasn't going to tell Wilson about the prostitute he'd hired last week. He had some pride left.

"Don't be stupid, House," Wilson said, rolling his eyes. "You of all people should know... there's some quality about you. You're an ass, but people magnetize towards you anyway. Many people find you very attractive."

"Many people? Who, you?" House blinked as he saw Wilson's ears go slightly pink. "Wilson. Oh, please."

"Shut up," Wilson muttered. "You've got a quality, okay? Doesn't mean anything. I know you're a jackass better than anyone."

"Oh, come off it. Stop trying to placate me. You're not even gay, if you want to do this sort of thing, hire me a hooker."

Wilson's ears went even pinker. "I am not trying to placate you," he insisted.

"What, so you want to kiss me?" House snapped.

"Yes!" Wilson snapped back.

"Well fine then, do it!"

"Okay, I will!"

And that was how Wilson came to be kissing him, a carton of fried rice overturned on the couch between them. House had the idle thought that if either one of them was a woman they'd probably be really upset about that right about now. But as it was, he really didn't give a shit. He was too busy enjoying what was a really damn good kiss, no matter who happened to be attached to the lips.

It wasn't until Wilson made a small sound, not unlike a moan, and started to move closer to him, that House came to his senses.

He pulled away, a little breathless, looking at Wilson, who just licked his lips and sat there looking absolutely debauched with mussed hair and flushed cheeks.

"I'm not gay!" House blurted.

Wilson seemed unimpressed, and rather, answered this by climbing onto House's lap, careful of his bad leg but managing to position himself just so, and House felt the outline of an erection against his thigh.

"It's Christmas," said Wilson. "There's wiggle room."


END.

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Comments {1}

Nicky Tai

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from: simple__man
date: Mar. 3rd, 2007 06:12 pm (UTC)
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Ha, brilliant! Love that last line, it's very fitting. Absolutely adorable, luv!

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