Two handsome college boys were hysterically laughing as they let more booze spill down their throats. Apparently Gregory House's last comment about the game on the bar's television was the funniest thing he, or his best friend James Wilson, had ever heard.
"And just think, when…" Greg began enthusiastically but he couldn't finish without falling off his stool.
He landed with a loud thump on the dirty floor, the noise though barely making a ripple in the loud clamor of the bar.
Both young men continued laughing until James eventually decided it was time to help his friend up. He jumped off his stool and quickly realized that wasn't the best idea in his condition, he landed on his feet but lasted only a mere second before his boozed up body too fell to the floor, landing awkwardly on top of Greg. James had fallen with his chest on top of Greg's and their smiling faces only a breath away from each other.
They were drunk beyond belief and giggling like little children yet when their lips met there was a sincerity behind it that they both recognized, but either due to their belief that the beer was a behind it or the simple fact that it scared them, they ignored it.
James rolled off and brought himself back onto the stool forgetting to help Greg up after that kiss. It seemed that had sobered them faster than any shower or coffee, and now replacing their constant laughter was an awkward silence.
Greg got up himself, and sat in his former stool, "Alright, if we even remember any of this tomorrow, let's never speak of it again."
"It's a deal."
James took another sip of his beer. Greg shifted in his chair.
"Listen, we're plastered right?" James began uncomfortably.
"I'd say so," Greg answered in a hopeful voice.
"So anything we do, there's little chance we're gonna remember anything about it, right?"
"That's how it goes."
There was another silence.
Greg stood up abruptly, "I'll get a taxi."
"I'll pay," James jumped again to his feet, smoother this time.
Within twenty minutes they were tearing out from the taxi and sprinting up to their dorm.
On Greg's bed they fell, pulling at each other's clothing.
Half an hour later, they were each slipping into sleep, Greg spooned up behind James, his arms wrapped comfortably tight around his friend. Greg couldn't help thinking in his last moments before sleep that this was intended to just be an experiment, but yet he had felt something real, and now, now he was more happily falling into sleep then ever before. Tomorrow he would wake up and be forced to remember this when he found James in his arms, despite the plan to forget everything, and he doubted he would've forgotten this anyway. He doubted he wanted to.
James was more comfortable here in House's bed then he ever was in his own, even though they were identical and covered with almost the same sheets. He held strong to the idea that they would both forget this tomorrow as he shifted closer to his friend, even though he knew already that at least he could not. He wouldn't want to. He felt Greg's arms tighten around him and contentedly they fell asleep.