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Title: My Designated Mormon Characters: Kutner, Cole, House/Wilson,… - that_emmanator
that_emmanator
that_emmanator
Title: My Designated Mormon
Characters: Kutner, Cole, House/Wilson, allusions to Kutner/Thirteen
Prompt: 28. Author's Choice [I can do that] (un_love_you)
Word Count: 1092
Rating: PG-13
Warnings/Spoilers: General season four.
Summary: Something happens, though Cole isn't sure what, and of course, Kutner has to take him along for the ride. A three-parter



“Why am I going with you?” Cole asked, exasperated.

“Because if I get too drunk, I won’t be able to drive myself home, and you said you wanted to get out of the house,” Kutner replied, shrugging.

“Not to be your designated driver, though.”

“Lighten up. It’s just a couple of hours, next time we’ll do what you want to do.”

Cole sighed, but followed him inside anyway. “Why couldn’t Thirteen come with you? I thought you two were…” he coughed slightly. “Close.”

Kutner shook his head, indicating he didn’t want to talk about it, and took a seat at the bar. He ordered and drink and Cole just looked around the bar.

“…Is that House and Wilson?” he asked, tapping Kutner on the shoulder.

Looking in the direction Cole was indicating, Kutner laughed. “It is! I wonder what they’re doing here.” He took his drink from the bartender and looked at them. “Should we go talk to them.”

“I don’t think that’s a good idea,” Cole said.

“I can do it. Really. Let’s go,” Kutner said, picking up his drink and grabbing Cole’s sleeve and dragging him behind him to the table where House and Wilson were seated.

“Hey,” Kutner said, sitting down in an unoccupied chair.

“Hello Kutner, Black Mormon,” House said, taking another swallow of his drinks. “What brings you here?”

“I’m his designated driver,” Cole said, ignoring the Mormon jibe.

Kutner didn’t reply, but left to get a refill after a few moments.

The four of them didn’t talk much, Cole just watched them and other bar patrons, and they just steadily drank until Kutner and House were both drunk enough for the four of them. Wilson hadn’t been drinking much, as he was driving House home at the end of the binge.

House was having about as much fun as Kutner was, he grabbed Wilson and kissed him on the cheek, dumping a little of his drink on the unfortunate victim of his affections.

Cole flinched as Kutner slung an arm around him, his head lolling onto his shoulder. “You know Cole,” he said, slurring a little. “You’re a great guy! Even if you did nearly get me fired, that’s alright. you’re still a good guy…” he said, hiccupping.

“Alright…I think you need to go home now, Kutner,” Cole said evenly.

“No, no I’m fine.”

“Really, go pay your tab. Anymore alcohol in you and we might as well book you a room in the hospital.”

“Fine,” Kutner said, whining. He paid for his drinks and, leaning on Cole for support, walked out of the bar.

“I don’t want to go home.”

“My son isn’t home. You can stay at my place I guess,” Cole sighed. “But you know you have to go to work tomorrow, right?”

He nodded mutely as he got into the car. It was kind of a long drive to Cole’s house, but Kutner filled in the time by talking loudly about seemingly nothing at all.

“Are you going to tell me why you decided this was a good idea?”

Kutner shook his head.

“Then sleep on the couch. I’ll drop you off in the morning, it’s on my way.”

He nodded and laid down on the couch.

Cole did his nightly routine and laid down to go to sleep, he could hear Kutner in the other room tossing and turning on the couch. There was a brief window of silence, and then Cole was pushed over a bit and Kutner flopped down beside him.

“Kutner- what are you doing?”

“The couch is uncomfortable,” he said, rolling onto his side and promptly falling asleep.

Cole grumbled and moved to the farthest end of the bed he could manage without falling off. He wondered when he had become such a pushover, and justified it by saying he was just trying to help his friend. Who was he to deny an extremely intoxicated Kutner somewhere comfortable to sleep?

Somehow, he managed to fall asleep in the night, despite Kutner’s snores and tossing and turning, and he woke up with an arm in his face and a leg thrown over his.

“Wake up,” he said, pushing Kutner’s splayed limbs off of him.

Kutner groaned and opened his eyes feebly. “Right, I’m up…” he muttered.

“Do you want breakfast? We have time,” Cole asked.

“That would be great,” Kutner said, standing up and running a hand through his disheveled hair. “What a night. I’m sorry if I did anything to make you uncomfortable, I get a little stupid when I’m drunk,” he said with a laugh.

“No big deal, you just needed to blow off some steam,” Cole said, picking up his clothes for the day. “I’m going to get in the shower, and then we can do breakfast,” he added.

“Right-o, I’ll be watching TV,” Kutner said, excusing himself to the living room. He turned on the TV, flipping channels impatiently. “Infomercials…news…right, cartoons,” he said, picking a channel.

“My son watches that channel every morning before school,” Cole said as he came into the room, fully dressed and tying his tie.

“He has good taste.”

“What do you want to eat?” Cole said, rummaging through the cabinets. “I don’t have much right now, though, I’m afraid.”

“Cereal?”

“We have the adult kind and the super-sugary kid kind,” he said.

“The latter, please.”

“Milk?”

“Yes sir. And some aspirin for this hangover maybe?”

“For having a hangover, you sure are in good humor.”

“I’ve gotten used to them.”

Cole shook his head and went about making two bowls of cereal, one of the adult kind (heart healthy and full of nutrients, that tasted like cardboard) and one of the super-sugary kind that his son was rather partial too.

“Eat in the kitchen,” Cole said.

Kutner walked to the kitchen, zombie-like, and sat down. He took the aspirin dry, and Cole thought of House, and then ate the cereal with a sort of sleepy enthusiasm.

“So why did you feel the need to go get drunk last night?” Cole asked him.

“I definitely don’t want to talk about it.” Kutner laughed.

It was unlike Kutner to not share a piece of information when asked. Or even when not asked. The fact that he refused to talk about it meant it must be serious.

About half an hour later, Cole dropped Kutner off at Princeton-Plainsboro Teaching Hospital.

“Thanks again man.”

“I’ll give you a ride home if you need it,” Cole said.

He nodded. “I’ll call you.”

“Bye,” he said, driving off on the way to his own job.

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