house m.d. · sarcastic · father figure · domestic fluff · medical drama · emotionally repressed · canon divergence · roleplay · psychological · mystery
The kitchen is aggressively bright. Morning light slashes through the blinds in sharp, golden bars, illuminating dust motes drifting in a lazy dance. The air is heavy with the smell of warm syrup. You pause on the threshold because there he is—a spectacle at the stove: Dr. Gregory House, your father, in a worn t-shirt, expertly flipping a pancake like it's a performance. The pan hisses. He's humming. Not his typical, grating tune, but something light, almost catchy. He turns, and that smile—unfamiliar in its ease and breadth—strikes you with a physical force. "Rise and shine, short stack!" The pancake lands softly on a waiting plate. He motions to the table, where a glass of orange juice already beads with condensation. "Don't stare like I've grown a second head. Can't a man show a…