Chapter Text
Epilogue: Ten Months Later
“He did it!”
“Look at you!”
“I knew it.”
Lawrence puttered out from the other room on his signature orange heels, matching shawl tossed dramatically behind his shoulder as he gasped, “Vick Edon!” and fell into a nearby chair. He pressed the back of his hand to his forehead and fanned himself with the programme he had been holding. “You’ve made an old queen’s dreams come true.”
The door flung back with a flourish and House spun into the bar on his kitten heels- a custom pair of black shoes with flames riding up the sides- to the absolute admiration of everyone in attendance. The promised, and much awaited, fishnet leggings were tucked into the shoes, climbing up the long lines of House’s legs and creeping underneath a leather skirt, fire patched to the hem- courtesy of Chase (who knew he could sew?)- that he pinched in his fingers to show off the shimmy of his ass.
Patty whistled. “Woah! Keep it comin’, baby!”
House planted his cane to the floor and worked around it like a stripper, bad leg sliding salaciously down the makeshift pole. The skirt was fairly modest, enough to cover the damage to his thigh, but it lifted with the whir of the wind and no one seemed to mind if the scar tissue made an appearance. Least of all Wilson, whose eyes hadn’t left House’s backside since he had put the outfit on the third time. There were rips in his stocking where Wilson had taken it off twice before.
The skirt was secured with a thick belt. A gleaming, hot-red buckle sat in the centre. The hairs on his chest brushed and blazed against the skin-tight power mesh clinging to his frame. House had traded his motorcycle jacket for a cherry, leather vest, with a frayed collar and sleeves and rounded slits threaded with black knots, spilling open to show off his middle.
There were fingerprints embedded in the leather. Some his own. Most of them Wilson’s.
Stevie pretended to tilt an imaginary pair of sunglasses down his nose, scanning House up and down. “Woo! Lookin’ good.” He turned to Teddy. “You’re open to threesomes right?”
Teddy stabbed him in the ribs. “We’ve both seen him with french fries up his nose.”
Stevie’s face scrunched. “You make a good point.”
Wilson rolled his eyes and put a hand on the small of House’s back, almost possessively (as if House would ever want to third wheel Stevie and Teddy in their coordinated set of bird-themed band merch). “I remember you finding my walrus impression very funny at the time.”
“There’s a difference between funny ‘attractive’ and funny,” he gestured at House, “That.”
“If you want to talk attractiveness, let’s start with that fashion monstrosity of exposed bird tonsils that you call an outfit.”
“You’re wearing mascara!”
House vogued his face. “And…Pulling. It. Off.”
“Yes,” Wilson blocked House with a palm against his chest, swerving around in front of him with passion in his eyes, “Yes, he is.”
House gently shoved him away. “Keep it in your pants. I’m not putting the stockings back on a fourth time.”
Wilson pouted and wriggled his shoulders, brows dancing in tune. “After your performance?”
“Seriously?”
Wilson hooked his chin over House’s shoulder. “The supply room is always free,” he whispered.
“Jesus Christ. What time am I on?” House shouted at the room. “Can we bump me up?”
Wilson blushed furiously at the collective laughter pointed directly at them.
“You wouldn’t be the first kids to have a quickie in the closet,” Lawrence said, seemingly in approval.
“Can you at least wait until after the show is finished? We’re all stocked up for the night and I don’t want customers complaining about certain substances on their food and drinks.”
They all turned around to the voice at the entrance.
“Hey! How is the new place?” Wilson stuck out his hand for Charlie and Kevin to shake.
“Good,” Kevin said, slipping his arm out from around Charlie’s waist to reach for Wilson. “Bit of trouble with a leak in the kitchen, but the landlord is sending someone around tomorrow to take a look.”
“You’re not driving each other crazy yet?” Patty asked.
“No,” Charlie smiled at Kevin, something bright and gleaming in his eyes. A relationship looked good on him. He’d put on a few pounds, lost some of that boyband sharpness in his face, but his skin was glowing and he looked positively lovesick. “Not yet. Ask me again when the new season of the Kardashians comes out.”
“Pfft,” Kevin slapped him playfully, “You love it. I know you know all their names now.”
“That’s really not by choice.”
Kevin kissed him on the cheek. “Say whatever you want. I know you secretly care.”
Charlie whisked Kevin under his arm before spinning him in the direction of the stage. “Go on, I’ve got busy bartender stuff to do.”
Kevin sauntered to the soundbooth, whistling the ‘Keeping Up with the Kardashians’ theme song under his breath.
Charlie took one look at House and swore. “Dammit.” He brushed himself down for his wallet and produced a crisp, fifty dollar bill that Lawrence eagerly plucked from his fingers. “I didn’t think you would do it,” he said, and sulkily made his way to the bar.
Lawrence immediately called Barney over, who had a glob of gel in his palm and was halfway through swooping his hair into the perfect replication of bedhead. Despite doing a stand-up act in his standard jeans and t-shirt, they all knew Barney would take longer than the full-glam drag queens to get ready for the evening.
Lawrence handed the money to him with a shake of his head. “One out of two,” he said.
Barney looked at House, then at Wilson, then at House again, nodded his approval, and gave House a fist bump. “Nice. You’re giving Wanda a run for her money.”
“It seems you are too. What’s that for?”
“We had a side bet to see if you could actually convince Wilson to wear the crop top.”
Ever since House had bragged about how gorgeous Wilson looked without his shirt on, he and the gang at the bar had been subtly, then not so subtly, trying to entice him into skimpy outfits. Most notably, a pink, see-through crop top that was more of a headband than a top, just thick enough to cover his nipples and not much else.
The first time Wilson had seen it, he stuttered so hard a time traveller from the 1800s spawned in the bar to ask them for his steam train back.
Every time after that- House replacing Wilson’s towel and clothes with the crop top after a shower, stuffing the crop top into his briefcase, displaying it in his office for all of his patients to see- Wilson only blushed and planned his revenge; swapping House’s clothes for a mini dress (two rounds of sex), filling House’s backpack with crotchless underwear (a rendezvous in Cuddy’s office bathroom), and applying a full-face of bold, shimmery make-up to him while he was asleep (sex until the make-up had transferred into the bedding and they had to throw away their sheets).
“Believe me,” House said, “I tried.”
Wilson hugged himself, protecting the long-sleeved button up he had been keeping in a gym bag under the backseat of his car, accurately predicting that House would hide all of his regular shirts on the morning of the charity event.
“Did you consider my suggestion,” Barney asked, miming pressing the plunger on a syringe.
“Yeah,” House sighed, “But he noticed.”
“You tried to drug me!” Wilson cried.
“As I said, he noticed.”
“I am not getting up on stage in that thing. I have patients that will be in the audience.”
“Theo is going to be disappointed,” House said.
Barney nodded. “He’s been talking about you all week. You don’t have glitter, or a bowtie, or even a hat. You at least need a hat.”
“Theo said he had something prepared for me.”
“Did he now?”
Wilson eyed them wearily. “If it shows any of this,” he gestured from his knees to his neck, “Then we’re gonna have a problem.”
“I won’t have a problem,” House said.
“Me neither,” Barney agreed.
Lawrence raked his eyes down Wilson’s body. “Or me.”
“I’ve been asking you all year for a show, honey,” Patty grinned. “It’s about time.”
Wilson glared at the lot of them, clamping down on the buttons of his collar. “Stop looking at me like you’re a bunch of stoners and I’m the pizza you just ordered.”
Patty licked his lips. “Stop looking so delicious.”
Stevie laughed. “Mmm, us meatlovers aren’t complaining.”
“Nope. That’s it. I’m going. Where’s Theo?”
Theo popped his head out from the curtains, already dressed in his magician's cape and a top hat. “Ah! My wonderful assistant, I’ve been waiting for you.” He rustled around behind the stage before a hanger popped through the velvet, dangling from his arm. On the hanger was a bedazzled pair of red pants and a matching suit jacket.
Wilson was pulling out his hair.
“Oh, before I forget…” Theo ducked out of sight again, boxes and equipment moving around haphazardly. Then, out from the curtains like the lamest round of ‘The Price is Right’ ever, a fedora with a foot tall feather sticking out the top of it.
Wilson hid his face in his hands and groaned. “This cannot be happening.”
“There’s always the crop top,” House pulled out the offending piece of pink fabric from his bag.
Wilson snatched up the glittery suit in a haste and kicked his feet to the dressing room.
“Alright. Let’s get this show on the road,” Lawrence announced.
Everyone formed a circle and stuck their hands in the middle, “Three, two, one, lollipops!”
***
“Are you nervous?” Wilson poked his head out from behind the doorway. His sparkling collar reflected in the glow of the stage lights and projected specks of starlight onto his face.
“No,” House said, adjusting his skirt to settle over his scar. “The crowd loves me.”
“Are they all there?”
“Come see for yourself.”
Wilson looked down at himself, frowning.
“I’m not going to make fun of you.”
Wilson eyed him sceptically.
“Fine, not until after the show.”
“Not if you want sex in the supply room, you won’t.”
House chuckled and held out his hand. “Truce?”
Smiling, Wilson stepped into the light and leaned into House’s side. “Truce.”
He looked ridiculous. Like he’d been covered in superglue and rolled around the art corner of a kindergarten classroom. House peeked him on the lips and made a mental note to take a picture. Then another to keep the suit on retainer. He could use it for dastardly deeds later on.
They each sneaked closer to the edge of the wings, curling around the side to look out into the audience. Chase spotted them first, waving excitedly from the second row. He nudged Cameron beside him and soon all five of them, Chase, Cameron, Foreman, Cuddy, and even Taub were waving up at them, beaming smiles on most of their faces. Taub had a picture of Kutner pulling a rabbit out of a hat printed to his t-shirt with swirling letters underneath that said ‘The Amazing Kutner’.
Kutner had taken quite a liking to Theo, and they had formed a bit of friendly competition over whose act would get the loudest applause. He had been slightly disappointed to find out that Wilson had joined Theo with his act, but quickly changed his mind when Thirteen offered her assistance, outfit and all. House had spotted her backstage earlier, strategically covered up beneath a robe. He was hoping for a body suit with a lot of leg.
As far as House knew, Kutner was going to swallow a sword (he’d found Kutner practicing in the bathroom during his lunch break), levitate off the floor (the bookmarked page of a ‘How to Perform Magic for Dummies’ book kept in his bag), and juggle chainsaws (search history on the office computer). Which is to say, he would probably end up killing himself tonight.
After all the laughing that initially came with telling the fellows about House’s act- House and Wilson had never seen Foreman so amused in his life- the fellows had gotten into drag right alongside them. Chase and Thirteen often came to the weekly shows. Sometimes Foreman or Cameron showed up with them. Even Cuddy had made a few appearances on her rare nights off. Kutner took no time at all to acquaint himself with Theo, earning himself a fair few crushes from the regulars and newcomers alike, some of which House suspected to not be entirely unrequited. Though only time would tell.
Chase made a ‘rock on’ sign with his fingers and pointed towards the flame patches he had sewn onto his own jacket. House made a silly face back at him.
“God, half the oncology department is here,” Wilson said. “I can’t believe you put those posters up.”
“The fellows would have told them about it anyway.”
“Theo’s going to screw up and chop me in half. My intern is going to see my organs as I bleed out on stage. If I don’t die from that, I’ll die from the embarrassment of wearing this costume.”
“You look hot.”
“You always think I look hot.”
That was true. Even with this drunken New Year’s Eve incarnation of an outfit plastered onto him.
The curtains rolled closed and Theo shuffled into the wings with his box of gear. “Ready?”
Wilson sighed, looking between the stage and the fluorescent ‘exit’ sign. He reluctantly put on his hat. “As I’ll ever be.”
Lawrence signalled from the opposite side of the stage and Wilson stepped up to House, holding him by the elbows. He was shaking ever so slightly. “That’s my cue.”
House leant forward and kissed him. “I’ll be waiting with flowers,” he said.
“Pfft,” Wilson snorted, his shoulders loosening. “Yeah, right.”
“You wait and see, you don’t know what I’ve got in store for you.”
It’s never anything good.”
“You say that now…”
Theo bounded back from centre stage, his equipment set up. “Wilson. Time to start.”
Wilson peeked his lips again. “If I don’t see you before your performance, break a leg.”
House looked down at his crippled thigh. “How dare you-”
Wilson was already on stage, Theo running around him in a flurry of his whipping cape and waving wand.
House pulled the finger at him.
Wilson blew a kiss into his palm, went to throw it at House, and pulled the finger right back at him.
House had never been happier.