A/N Fluff stuff!! drunk!Wilson and assorted goodies. Inspired by the song Step On My Old Size Nines by Stereophonics. H/W established relationship :D

Disclaimer: If I owned them I would have invested in some new clothes and a sorely needed haircut. But I haven't. Take from that what you will

"That guy over there is an idiot."

Wilson leaned forward in his seat and caught a glimpse of the aforementioned idiot; a squat little man with a pair of thick glasses perched on the end of a snooty, snub nose. House was right, he did look like an idiot.

"That guy is also an idiot." House gestured leftwards with his cane. "So is that guy." He titled his head back. "So is she."

"Okay, okay. I get your point." Wilson took a sip of his mineral water. "This room is full of idiots. No need to point each one out individually."

"So is that guy."

Wilson squinted into the distance. "That's Cuddy's assistant and that's a woman."

"Seriously?" House grimaced and took a gulp of water from the jug on the table.

"Could you at least use a cup? People have to share this water you know." Wilson grabbed the jug out of House's grasp and began cleaning the lip with a napkin.

"Not when I've had my mouth wrapped around it they won't." House took the jug back up to his lips as soon as Wilson placed it back onto the table. "We have the table to ourselves anyway."

Wilson rolled his eyes. "I wonder why that is."

House began fiddling with his black bow tie. It was itching on his neck, creating a patch of red skin where his stubble and the material had not agreed with one another. He could see Wilson twitching out the corner of his eye, desperate to grab his hands before he managed to pull off the bow tie. Wilson had spent nearly 45 minutes adjusting and readjusting both their bow ties before arriving, even going as far as ironing them to make sure that they fit just right. There was a part of House that wanted to whip the bow tie straight off just to see Wilson's reaction but there was another part of him that felt flattered by the fact Wilson had gone to all this trouble just for him. He didn't even ask Wilson to press his suit or shine his shoes but Wilson had done it anyway.

The boons of having an always-prepared, neat freak partner.

House smiled before leaving his bow tie alone, watching out of the corner of his eye as Wilson's fingers stopped their nervous twitching. He picked up the water jug and offered it to Wilson. "Want another?"

Wilson shook his head. "You've had your lips all over the damn thing."

House guffawed. "Yeah cos I've never had my lips all over you."

Wilson gave House a gentle slap on the arm before a broad grin crossed his face. "I walked into that one." He leaned back and intertwined his fingers around the back of his head. "I'm surprised Cuddy hasn't accosted us yet, demanding us to mingle more. We've been sitting on our asses for..." He glanced at his watch. "...an hour and a half now."

House groaned. "You had to say that didn't you? You had to mention 'She-Who-Most-Not-Be-Named."

"What?"

"Now she is going to come storming over and demand us to get mingling."

Wilson waved his hand. "No she's not." Wilson had seen Cuddy leave about an hour ago and she was yet to return. "She's not even here."

House took in a quick scan of the room. Just a hoard of faceless nobodies from other hospitals, laughing at each other's bad jokes and knocking back copious amounts of free champagne. Cuddy wasn't here. "She's probably in the toilet wiping the kiddy's vomit from her hooter baring dress."

"You used to love those hooters." Wilson called over a waiter and requested another jug of water.

"Love is a very strong word Wilson. I just admired from afar, occasionally closer than from afar. To be honest, they weren't even that good anyway..."

Both men jumped as a firm hand slapped on both their shoulders. "What wasn't that good?" Cuddy beamed down on them from above, both hands grasping on each man.

Wilson blinked a couple of times just to make sure he hadn't been poked in the eye by Cuddy's breasts, which were tucked precariously into a low plunging dress. Now he understood how PPTH managed to get so many donations from so many businessmen. "Um...um...nothing. Just the um..." He was struggling for words and he knew it. He looked over at House, trying his best to subversively hint for him to take over.

House duly obliged. "The music." He gestured towards the band at the back of the room. "Light jazz is so cliché. Can't we have something a little more edgy? An Anthrax tribute band perhaps? I'm sure some of these marvellous guests would enjoy a little thrash metal with their over-inflated egos, champagne and canapés."

Cuddy grinned sarcastically before turning her attention to the smirking oncologist. "I need you to talk to people, mingle, use some of your charm. This hospital doesn't produce money. These donors are important people."

"Fine. I'll talk to people. I don't know what you want me to say though." Wilson shrugged.

"Just talk about the hospital, how much of a pleasure it is to work here. Woo them Wilson. You're good at that sort of thing." Cuddy directed a bony index finger towards House. "And you just...don't talk. I don't want any more complaints. I still have to apologise to that guy whose wig you stole."

House protested. "I didn't steal it. It fell off his head when I bumped into him, miraculously worked its way underneath a table and then somehow made its way into my desk drawer."

"Whatever House. Just don't cause a scene." Cuddy turned on her heels and clicked her way to the middle of floor where the guests were gathering to dance.

"God she's pre-menstrual."

Wilson pulled a grimace. "Lovely." He grabbed his glass from the table and began to rise from his chair. "She's stressed House. Give her a break."

"Where are you going?"

"I have to 'charm' and 'mingle' remember?"

House lifted the glass from Wilson's hand and placed it back on the table. "No you don't. You can charm and mingle with me instead."

"As tempting as that sounds, I really think I should get this over and done with."

House grabbed his arm and winked. "You'll get sex at the end of it if you do."

"Don't play the sex card so early in the evening. We made a deal. You only get one remember." Wilson could see House inwardly growl. He had won this time. "I'll be back when I'm done wooing."

House let Wilson walk a few metres towards the floor before shouting out. "Be careful. Remember you're wooing them for money not to get them into bed. I know you have a hard time differentiating the two."

Wilson glared for a few seconds before flipping House the 'v' sign.

.

.

He's not jealous. He's never jealous.

House rolled his cane between his thumbs. He was watching Wilson in full flow, charming the hell out of each person, particularly the females, that he spoke to. Wilson had style. A warm smile executed at just the right moment, a friendly touch on the shoulder and a hearty laugh no matter how bad the joke was, meant the guests were putty in Wilson's hands.

He squirmed in his chair as he saw a woman fawn onto Wilson's shoulder, generously fluttering her eyelids and playfully slapping his chest.

He's not jealous. He's never jealous.

Okay, he's a little jealous.

Okay, okay, he's really jealous.

He had always been a little possessive of Wilson, though with Wilson's track record who wouldn't be. But he was always careful not to let on; he didn't want Wilson feeling like their was no trust there on House's part. There was trust, most definitely, but House had been fucked over enough times to know there was never going to be 100% trust on his part.

She was stroking his arm now and Wilson wasn't flinching away.

That was it. He'd had enough.

House hobbled over to where Wilson was entertaining the crowd of apparent female fans and grabbed Wilson's arm. "Sorry girls. I have to get him back to the clinic before his tag starts beeping. You know what it's like with these sex addicts. They'd chase anything with legs."

Wilson's face resembled that of a guppy, his mouth flapping open and closed trying to formulate words to explain his friend's comments. He wasn't given that chance as House pulled him away from the crowd who stared back with a mixture of disgust and disbelief. He was yanked through a set of double doors and into the corridor.

"What the hell was that?" House threw his hands into the hair.

"What do you mean 'what the hell that was that'? I could ask you the same damn question."

"I was saving you from a pack of she-wolves."

Wilson stuck his hands on his hips. "They were donors House. I was doing what Cuddy told me to do."

"And then some." House spat out all too quickly. He then observed Wilson's hurt expression and almost cowered within himself as he felt a wash of guilt course through his body. Who was he kidding? Wilson wasn't going to cheat on him, he was just schmoozing on his bosses behalf. There was nothing in it. House leant his body onto the whitewashed wall behind him before grumbling, "Sorry."

"What?"

"I said," House rubbed his forehead, overwhelmed by a sudden feeling of fatigue. "I'm sorry."

Wilson stepped forward and placed a hand on House's waist. "You're a jealous idiot." He gently placed his hand on House's cheek and pulled him closer. As their bodies met, Wilson planted a soft, tender kiss onto House's stubbled cheek before moving onto his lips. He felt the parting of House's lips beneath his and sensed the warm tongue of the older man making its way into his mouth. Wilson began wagging his finger before moving away from House's embrace. "We'll save that for later." He patted the stiffened crotch before him and headed back towards the door. "You coming back in?"

House coughed. "I'll be a second." He looked down at his pants. He'd probably be more than a second.

.

.

By the time House returned Wilson was back at their table, his schmoozing of the guests apparently complete for the evening. House noticed the girly glass in Wilson's grasp. Wilson had obviously moved onto the booze meaning House would be the one driving them home.

Wilson waved him over and pointed to the juice he had purchased for him.

House limped over and took his seat. It was then he noticed the two empty glasses on their table. "You've had two already?"

Wilson nodded. "They're half price." He grinned a weird, sickly smile, a sure sign to House that he had drank them too quickly.

"I'm not carrying you home. I'm the cripple here." House drank his juice in one swoop.

"I'll be fine. I'm gonna take my time with this one." Wilson sipped a tiny amount of liquid from the glass to prove his point.

House smiled as he watched Wilson drinking his Martini; an over cautious sip followed by a wink. He then surveyed the other guests, most of whom were slow dancing along to the generic jazz style music.

"I love this song," Wilson randomly blurted out from nowhere.

House furrowed his brows. "You do know this is not actually a song. It's just one long piece of instrumental background."

"Yeah but it's good." Wilson stuck down his empty glass on the table and then turned to House. "Do you want to dance?"

"Are you sure you've only had three?" House pulled all the empty glasses to one side, only then to discover another empty glass discarded under Wilson's chair.

"I've had four." Wilson held up six fingers. "Can we dance now?"

"I'm not dancing with you Wilson."

"Please." Wilson leaned in, widening his brown eyes for sympathy.

"You're drunk. I'm crippled. Together, I doubt we can barely stand upright never mind dance."

"We can at least try." Wilson staggered out of his seat. "Come on."

House admired his stubbornness. "No."

"Please." Wilson yanked at House's arm.

"No."

"I promise we will go home straight afterwards for some you know what."

Oh he's good. House weighed up his options. Another two hours of ass-numbing boredom or relenting to Wilson's request and getting some sex out of it. It didn't take House long to decide. "Fine."

House was impressed with the fact it only took himself and Wilson three minutes to stagger and hobble fifty metres to where the dance floor was; Wilson could be an unwieldy fellow when he was on the cusp of being drunk.

"I can't dance." Wilson looked lazily into House's eyes.

"You dragged me all the way here before you decided tell me that?" House turned to leave.

"No. No. No. Come on. I'm sure we can impersonate."

"Improvise. You mean improvise." House grabbed Wilson's shoulder to keep him standing. "How can you dance when you can't form a coherent sentence?"

"I'll try. Everybody loves a trier." Wilson clasped House's hand and placed his other hand on House's chest. "So what do we do?"

This was going to take a while. "Well you're too far away to start." House edged forward. "Then you put your hand here." He led Wilson's onto the edge of his shoulder. "I put my hand around your back and you do the same on my other side."

Wilson manoeuvred to House's instructions. "Like this?"

"That's right." House tossed his cane onto the nearest table. "Then just move to the rhythm of the music."

Wilson arched his eyebrows. "Um...rhythm. I have no rhythm."

"Let's see. Just move when your feet when you think you should." House gestured for Wilson to move.

Awkwardly and with no semblance of rhythm, Wilson began shuffling from left foot to right foot. House stopped him after a few seconds, unable to watch without wincing in pain. "Okay. I've seen enough." Wilson went to go again. "No, no. God no. Just stop. I can hear dogs howling and children crying."

Wilson slumped. "I told you."

"Well at least I know what I am working with here. Just follow me okay? Watch my feet and follow them."

Wilson nodded and stared intently down at the feet of the taller man. The first couple of tries resulted in a few grumbles of pain from House as Wilson insisted on stepping onto his feet but after a while Wilson began to get the hang of it.

"This isn't too bad." Wilson scrutinized his footsteps, determined to get the in sync with House.

"My feet disagree."

Wilson smiled sheepishly. "Sorry about that."

House shrugged. Normally he would try and make Wilson feel bad about but he really didn't care that his toes felt almost numb from the pummelling they had received. He carefully pulled Wilson closer until Wilson's head rested on his chest.

Wilson was getting the hang of it now, their steps almost precisely in sync with one another.

House smiled and he was sure he could feel Wilson smile too.