Bestest Buddy 16b: Found Again
Wilson was in bed already, waiting for House to finish up in the bathroom and turn out the lights. He could keep an eye on his partner's progress, because House, as usual, left the door open while he showered and brushed his teeth.
Wilson took advantage of the door being open. “D'you think anything weird's going on in that family?” he called to House, who was up to flossing now.
House shrugged. “Dunno...wha make oo tink tat?” He was obviously doing his molars, now. “Weir' in wha way?”
“Just the way they came in here, I guess,” Wilson answered.
****
Sammy had looked like a condemned man as Tom Chu practically frog-marched his son by the scruff of his neck into their home. When Sam was front-and-center of the House/Wilson family, he hung his head and started to apologize. “I'm very sorry for causing all the trouble today in New York...” His dark, almond shaped right eye (the left one a deep purple and swollen shut by now) slid over to the left, to his father, as if he were checking to see if he'd said enough yet. Tom's face was impassive at first, then he inclined his head at his son, as if to say “Go on.”
Then Sammy's one good eye twinkled a bit. He spared one defiant glance at his father, then said quickly, “I should have told you that you were supposed to do Indiana Jones move. You probably would have been quick enough to get out in time. Guess you weren't...”
Sam's dad grabbed his son's shoulder in a vicelike grip. “Enough.” He regarded the two men and instinctively bowed slightly before he caught himself. “I hope that you will forgive my son's impulsive behavior, Drs. House and Wilson,” he said. His tone was formal, with a bit of barely restrained anger underneath. “Is your son all right now?”
House knew that this was a job for Wilson, and so didn't bother to say a word.
Wilson went into charm mode right away, for the sake of preserving the relationship between the boys, and to lessen the strain on Sammy, who looked as though he'd probably been punished, tongue-lashed, and beaten up (by David) enough.
“He's fine, now.” Wilson told him. “We've talked about it, and I think that David understands that he is never to hit Sam again.
'Good ol' Wilson,' House thought. His partner had just de-emphasized Sammy's role and focused on David, who wasn't going to get into any further trouble with his dads.
“We should let the kids talk a bit. David,” he inclined his head towards David's room. “Why don't you guys go in there and talk?”
David eyed Sammy warily. It was Wilson's turn to be a bit forceful with his own son now. He gripped David's shoulder rather firmly and gave the boy a push in the right direction. David went.
Wilson shepherded the kids down the hallway. When he returned to the sofa, House was talking to Tom Chu, who was now seated stiffly on the huge ottoman of the chair-and-a-half that was perpendicular to the couch.
“You want a beer?” Wilson's partner asked.
****
House emerged from the steamy bathroom in a towel. Wilson smiled at his lover, and relaxed into his pillow to enjoy the show. He liked watching naked House, seeing him slide long, sinewy legs into pajama bottoms, watching the man pull an old t-shirt over his head, and slowly slide it down over his upper torso.
“C'mere, sexy,” Wilson gestured for House to come closer.
House climbed onto the bed on Wilson's side. He plunked himself down so that he was lying directly on top of the other man. “Yeah?”
Wilson's arms slid around his partner. “Gimme a kiss,” he whispered.
House kissed Wilson's forehead and rolled over onto his own side. “Goodnight.”
Wilson swatted House's backside. “Get back over here!”
Grinning, House turned over to face his partner. He placed a hand on Wilson's hip and started to caress it slowly as he tenderly touched his mouth to the adorable Cupid's bow of Wilson's lips.
“Better...” Wilson murmured between slow, lazy kisses from his lover. “Mmmm...much better.”
****
While the two men made out on their bed, their son drifted at near wakefulness in his room, thinking over the last part of his terrifying day. Even though he still had some misgivings, he and Sammy had decided to let bygones be bygones. David apologized for hurting Sam.
“It's okay,” Sam had told him. “I never had a black eye before.”
David raised an eyebrow at his friend. “You sound like you like it.”
“'Course I do,” the boy replied. “Is this not cool?” He stood and looked into David's door mirror at his puffy purple bruise. “It hurt a little to get it, but it makes me look like I just went ten rounds with Mike Tyson!”
David hung his head shamefully. “I didn't mean it, Sam.”
“You said that,” Sam reminded him. “It's cool.” He pretended to box with his reflection. “Plus, having a friend with a mean left hook can be very useful.”
David almost chuckled then.
Sammy quit clowning around then. “Hey...”
“Yeah?”
“Wilson told my mom that it took so long to find you because you didn't tell a policeman you were lost.”
David shrugged. “Guess I wasn't thinking clearly.” He didn't want Sammy to know any more than necessary about how freaked out he'd really been.
“She said you were just on a park bench when the cops found you. You even had a phone with you in your backpack, and you didn't try to call anybody for help.”
“It was kind of scary.” David told his friend. “I guess I froze.”
Sammy met David's eyes with his one eye. “'Kay. But next time, you should tell a policeman, or somebody in a uniform, like a security guard, that you're lost. And use your emergency phone - that's what it's for, anyway!”
David had felt a little indignation at that point. If it hadn't been for Sammy, he wouldn't have needed to get help in the first place. Sammy was a jerk.
Without realizing that he friend was getting angry, Sammy redeemed himself. “It was kind of scary for me too,” he said softly. “I was afraid that someone might hurt you, or kidnap you, and we would never see you again...and it woulda been all my fault.”
David sat down on his bed. Forgiveness flooded into his heart. “It's okay. Anyway, none of that happened.”
“Are we still buds then?” Sammy asked nervously.
David paused for just a second, remembering Wilson's brief lecture. Could he still be friends in spite of Sammy's recklessness? Could he forgive and like his friend anyway? Sure. Of course. He already had. “Okay,” the boy replied. He held out his right hand for a shake.
Sammy wasn't just reckless and impulsive in his mind, he was the same way in his heart. “Dude...” He grabbed the proffered hand and pulled David into a coarse buddy-hug. “You're my best friend,” he informed David, his abnormally deep voice full of boyish sincerity.
David House had a bestest buddy now. He smiled to himself as he listened to Wilson's sock-covered feet heading down the hallway to check on them.
Wilson took advantage of the door being open. “D'you think anything weird's going on in that family?” he called to House, who was up to flossing now.
House shrugged. “Dunno...wha make oo tink tat?” He was obviously doing his molars, now. “Weir' in wha way?”
“Just the way they came in here, I guess,” Wilson answered.
****
Sammy had looked like a condemned man as Tom Chu practically frog-marched his son by the scruff of his neck into their home. When Sam was front-and-center of the House/Wilson family, he hung his head and started to apologize. “I'm very sorry for causing all the trouble today in New York...” His dark, almond shaped right eye (the left one a deep purple and swollen shut by now) slid over to the left, to his father, as if he were checking to see if he'd said enough yet. Tom's face was impassive at first, then he inclined his head at his son, as if to say “Go on.”
Then Sammy's one good eye twinkled a bit. He spared one defiant glance at his father, then said quickly, “I should have told you that you were supposed to do Indiana Jones move. You probably would have been quick enough to get out in time. Guess you weren't...”
Sam's dad grabbed his son's shoulder in a vicelike grip. “Enough.” He regarded the two men and instinctively bowed slightly before he caught himself. “I hope that you will forgive my son's impulsive behavior, Drs. House and Wilson,” he said. His tone was formal, with a bit of barely restrained anger underneath. “Is your son all right now?”
House knew that this was a job for Wilson, and so didn't bother to say a word.
Wilson went into charm mode right away, for the sake of preserving the relationship between the boys, and to lessen the strain on Sammy, who looked as though he'd probably been punished, tongue-lashed, and beaten up (by David) enough.
“He's fine, now.” Wilson told him. “We've talked about it, and I think that David understands that he is never to hit Sam again.
'Good ol' Wilson,' House thought. His partner had just de-emphasized Sammy's role and focused on David, who wasn't going to get into any further trouble with his dads.
“We should let the kids talk a bit. David,” he inclined his head towards David's room. “Why don't you guys go in there and talk?”
David eyed Sammy warily. It was Wilson's turn to be a bit forceful with his own son now. He gripped David's shoulder rather firmly and gave the boy a push in the right direction. David went.
Wilson shepherded the kids down the hallway. When he returned to the sofa, House was talking to Tom Chu, who was now seated stiffly on the huge ottoman of the chair-and-a-half that was perpendicular to the couch.
“You want a beer?” Wilson's partner asked.
****
House emerged from the steamy bathroom in a towel. Wilson smiled at his lover, and relaxed into his pillow to enjoy the show. He liked watching naked House, seeing him slide long, sinewy legs into pajama bottoms, watching the man pull an old t-shirt over his head, and slowly slide it down over his upper torso.
“C'mere, sexy,” Wilson gestured for House to come closer.
House climbed onto the bed on Wilson's side. He plunked himself down so that he was lying directly on top of the other man. “Yeah?”
Wilson's arms slid around his partner. “Gimme a kiss,” he whispered.
House kissed Wilson's forehead and rolled over onto his own side. “Goodnight.”
Wilson swatted House's backside. “Get back over here!”
Grinning, House turned over to face his partner. He placed a hand on Wilson's hip and started to caress it slowly as he tenderly touched his mouth to the adorable Cupid's bow of Wilson's lips.
“Better...” Wilson murmured between slow, lazy kisses from his lover. “Mmmm...much better.”
****
While the two men made out on their bed, their son drifted at near wakefulness in his room, thinking over the last part of his terrifying day. Even though he still had some misgivings, he and Sammy had decided to let bygones be bygones. David apologized for hurting Sam.
“It's okay,” Sam had told him. “I never had a black eye before.”
David raised an eyebrow at his friend. “You sound like you like it.”
“'Course I do,” the boy replied. “Is this not cool?” He stood and looked into David's door mirror at his puffy purple bruise. “It hurt a little to get it, but it makes me look like I just went ten rounds with Mike Tyson!”
David hung his head shamefully. “I didn't mean it, Sam.”
“You said that,” Sam reminded him. “It's cool.” He pretended to box with his reflection. “Plus, having a friend with a mean left hook can be very useful.”
David almost chuckled then.
Sammy quit clowning around then. “Hey...”
“Yeah?”
“Wilson told my mom that it took so long to find you because you didn't tell a policeman you were lost.”
David shrugged. “Guess I wasn't thinking clearly.” He didn't want Sammy to know any more than necessary about how freaked out he'd really been.
“She said you were just on a park bench when the cops found you. You even had a phone with you in your backpack, and you didn't try to call anybody for help.”
“It was kind of scary.” David told his friend. “I guess I froze.”
Sammy met David's eyes with his one eye. “'Kay. But next time, you should tell a policeman, or somebody in a uniform, like a security guard, that you're lost. And use your emergency phone - that's what it's for, anyway!”
David had felt a little indignation at that point. If it hadn't been for Sammy, he wouldn't have needed to get help in the first place. Sammy was a jerk.
Without realizing that he friend was getting angry, Sammy redeemed himself. “It was kind of scary for me too,” he said softly. “I was afraid that someone might hurt you, or kidnap you, and we would never see you again...and it woulda been all my fault.”
David sat down on his bed. Forgiveness flooded into his heart. “It's okay. Anyway, none of that happened.”
“Are we still buds then?” Sammy asked nervously.
David paused for just a second, remembering Wilson's brief lecture. Could he still be friends in spite of Sammy's recklessness? Could he forgive and like his friend anyway? Sure. Of course. He already had. “Okay,” the boy replied. He held out his right hand for a shake.
Sammy wasn't just reckless and impulsive in his mind, he was the same way in his heart. “Dude...” He grabbed the proffered hand and pulled David into a coarse buddy-hug. “You're my best friend,” he informed David, his abnormally deep voice full of boyish sincerity.
David House had a bestest buddy now. He smiled to himself as he listened to Wilson's sock-covered feet heading down the hallway to check on them.