"You know what I'm talking about," House snapped, listening to the ringing coming through from the other end of the line. "Unless you missed that friendly conversation." Anger was still burning in his stomach, and it only seemed to get worse the longer Foreman stood there. He wanted to shove Foreman away, feeling the insistent pull to put even more distance between them. He couldn't help thinking that maybe this hadn't been a good idea. There was no way that Foreman was going to want him after tonight, or if he did, after even more people found out about this relationship and spouted even more criticism. Foreman cared too much about his reputation, what everybody else thought of him, and he wouldn't stick around if everyone pointed fingers at him and called him an idiot for being with him. He should just get out while he could, before Foreman knocked him on his ass and make him feel more humiliated and hurt than this whole damn dinner had. The ringing continued, long enough to make House lower the phone and redial before slapping it to his ear again.
Foreman's remark didn't do much to make his anger fade away. House turned towards his car instead, scoffing to himself, as Foreman stepped backwards. He wouldn't be surprised if Foreman bought Marty a new shirt just to keep them on good terms, save his precious reputation. The only person Foreman hadn't seemed to care about keeping in his good graces was House. No, Foreman planned dinners and went out just to spite him. Shut his mouth and let Marty lay into him. Not that he needed Foreman to jump in and save him, but it would have been nice if Foreman hadn't left him hanging. Maybe refusing the card really had been for show, maybe--
"What do you want, House?" Wilson's voice finally cut through the ringing on the other end.
House cleared his throat, trying to keep the anger out of his voice when he answered, "I'm drunk. Pick me up."
Wilson sighed. House forced himself not to turn and glance at Foreman as he leaned against the car. "Where are you?"
Now House had to turn, and he looked over the top of Foreman's head at the name of the restaurant. "Ma Cabane," he said and spun back around quickly. A little too quickly, stumbling into his car and grunting into the phone. "You know, that place that has the--"
"Yeah, I know it," Wilson said. House could hear a door closing in the background, then the soft sound of a car engine. "I'll be there soon. Just try not to...punch anyone before I get there."
"Can I punch anyone after you get here?"
House pulled the phone away from his ear as Wilson hung up, then closed it, and slipped it back into his pocket. He peeked over his shoulder and gestured back toward the restaurant. "Don't you have any more catching up to do? I doubt you came here just to talk about your old boyfriend. Or your new boyfriend. Or your new old boyfriend," he said to Foreman, considering getting into the car to wait for Wilson. He couldn't fucking stand here until he arrived, and he didn't want to have a damn argument in the middle of the street.
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Foreman's remark didn't do much to make his anger fade away. House turned towards his car instead, scoffing to himself, as Foreman stepped backwards. He wouldn't be surprised if Foreman bought Marty a new shirt just to keep them on good terms, save his precious reputation. The only person Foreman hadn't seemed to care about keeping in his good graces was House. No, Foreman planned dinners and went out just to spite him. Shut his mouth and let Marty lay into him. Not that he needed Foreman to jump in and save him, but it would have been nice if Foreman hadn't left him hanging. Maybe refusing the card really had been for show, maybe--
"What do you want, House?" Wilson's voice finally cut through the ringing on the other end.
House cleared his throat, trying to keep the anger out of his voice when he answered, "I'm drunk. Pick me up."
Wilson sighed. House forced himself not to turn and glance at Foreman as he leaned against the car. "Where are you?"
Now House had to turn, and he looked over the top of Foreman's head at the name of the restaurant. "Ma Cabane," he said and spun back around quickly. A little too quickly, stumbling into his car and grunting into the phone. "You know, that place that has the--"
"Yeah, I know it," Wilson said. House could hear a door closing in the background, then the soft sound of a car engine. "I'll be there soon. Just try not to...punch anyone before I get there."
"Can I punch anyone after you get here?"
House pulled the phone away from his ear as Wilson hung up, then closed it, and slipped it back into his pocket. He peeked over his shoulder and gestured back toward the restaurant. "Don't you have any more catching up to do? I doubt you came here just to talk about your old boyfriend. Or your new boyfriend. Or your new old boyfriend," he said to Foreman, considering getting into the car to wait for Wilson. He couldn't fucking stand here until he arrived, and he didn't want to have a damn argument in the middle of the street.