Work Text:
Picking up his drunk boss from a bar was not what Kutner wanted nor planned to do today, but House had called him randomly: told him where he was, told him to find Wilson, have him pick House up. Except:
Kutner had left work early, not having much reason to stick around in the absence of a case, and Kutner didn’t have a clue where Wilson was, and he could contact him through Amber, probably, but Kutner thought that it was simpler, and would save everyone the trouble, if he had picked up House himself.
He didn’t feel much like doing it but, looking around his apartment, it’s not like he had anything better to do, anyway.
He goes to find House, and the first thing a drunk House tells him, in the midst of the noise that is ever-present in a bar is: “ I said to find Wilson.”, rolls his eyes as he says it. Geez, are House and Wilson codependent or what, Kutner thinks.
“Wilson’s working, and I thought it didn’t actually matter who came to pick you up,” he explains, looking around. “C’mon, House —”
He, instead, has other plans — which is kind of annoying, because didn’t he specifically call him for a ride — and beckons the bartender, who doesn’t seem too fond of him, and asks for — actually, more like demands — more drinks. Kutner gives said bartender an apologetic look. “What’s your poison?”
“Uhm, I don’t drink,” Kutner lies, badly, because he’s not about to tell his boss that his choice of a beverage tends to be more along the lines of daquiris and sugary drinks, and he can tell that House can tell it’s a lie as soon as he says it, but he really just wants this to be over as soon as possible. “House, we need to leave —”
“Leaving, leaving, leaving…” House slurs, drunkenly whines, “he’s having what I’m havi—”
“A daquiri.” Kutner interrupts House, talks to the bartender, resigned to his fate. House looks at him mockingly, but if he really has to drink, he might as well be drinking something he likes.
“Really?” In the meantime, the bartender sets their drinks on the counter. “I didn’t take you for such a lady —”
“Yeah,” He goes to sit on the chair next to House’s and picks up his cocktail. “Look, one drink, and then we leave.”
House does not answer, and Kutner doesn’t actually think it’ll be that easy, but they do clink their glasses together, which isn’t a verbal agreement but Kutner wants to be hopeful. And Kutner does actually like his boss, mostly when he’s not being an annoying drunk, but generally, he likes House. Working for him is fun, and he’ll probably never have to do stuff like following a dresscode as long as he works for him, which works for Kutner. It’s great, even if he’ll occasionally have to do stuff like participating in his schemes or play games or pick him up from different locations while he’s under different states of inebriation, but Kutner likes to look on the bright side of things, wants to think of himself as a glass half-full kind of guy.
Of course, it’s a little hard when House tries to order another round, when House leaves without paying and he has to pay for the honestly concerning (or impressive, depending on how you look at it) amount of alcohol House drank, when he has to run after House, which, considering the fact that he’s caneless, drunk, and in pain, he’s actually really fast. Weirdly fast. Kutner has to run to catch up to him and get on the bus, holding House’s cane in one of his hands.
“Uhm, House?” He looks at him, tries to smile, adds with humour in his voice: “I think you forgot something.” Kutner hands him his cane and plops on the seat opposite to his.
“You really don’t give up, do you?” And Kutner doesn’t know if he’s referring to right now, or to Kutner turning over his number plate and every other thing he did for the fellowship, or to all of it.
“Yeah, I’m kind of an idiot that way.”
He thinks that his life is kind of good now. Great even. Sure, things aren’t perfect, could be better, but they could always be better. Sure, Amber turned him down, is dating Wilson, but they’re friends. He’s friendly with all of his coworkers, and he doesn’t think about his past coworkers that he’s no longer friends with, swears he doesn’t. This job is fun, and okay, maybe not as fun as he thought it’d be at the start, but…
“Why are you doing this?” Because he likes House, Kutner thinks, and smiles at him. Because why not, because he didn’t have anything else to do. Memories briefly flash in his mind: House electrocuting himself on purpose, House calling Amber out of everyone else. Kutner doesn’t know how many people House called before landing on him, and briefly wonders if House knows that the people around him do care: but then again, House had to call Kutner to pick him up.
Kutner doesn’t answer, thought, instead goes to satisfy his own curiosity: “Why were you alone, drinking at a bar? Does it have anything to do with Wilson and Amber?” and House glares at Kutner in frustration.
“Last time I checked, I’m pretty sure your specialty was physiatry and not psychiatry,” he then sneers, and Kutner knows that he’s right on the money. It doesn’t feel that great, even so. Feels kind of bad for him, if he’s being honest.
“So, Wilson is the reason you were there.” Kutner concludes.
“Do other people find it annoying when you’re sticking your nose into someone’s else business, or is it just me?” House deflects, and Kutner looks away and rolls his eyes, although he also can’t help but grin even if the remark is pointed at him. Life isn’t that bad, maybe. At least his boss is one hell of a funny guy, even if he’s also kind of depressing.
And maybe things really are looking up, Kutner thinks as he gazes out the bus window.