House had fever.

House had been feeling down since God knows when, but he refused to treat himself until he finished with his current case: A little girl who got bitten in the Savana and now had a very contagious infection.. But he didn't have that though, no, he didn't have the symptom of the girl's disease. At least that was something. The least he needed now was Cuddy or Wilson discovering that he was feverish, and goddamn that he didn't need that, not now that he had hired Masters.

.

Cuddy would definitely unable him from working and send him home, that sounded delightful, yes, but he doubted that his team could do much; Chase was still touched after the Dibala event, Foreman was worried sick about Thirteen's disappearance, and Taub and Masters weren't exactly having a stable companionship.

.

' Just.. Urgh, lie to the CCE. '

House forced his voice to be low, the heat in his forehead and whole body in general was getting uncomfortable and almost unbearable. Right now, he was talking to Foreman while Chase and Masters went to monitoriza the patience through a glass, you know, the CCE wasn't exactly letting them get closer to the patient, no more than behind the glass at least.

.

Foreman nodded, surprisingly not saying anything but he seemed to acknowledge the fact that House was feverish today, and yet, he didn't lecture him nor even try to tell him to go home.. Huh, that was strange. House leaned against a chair as he watched Foreman exit the room. His cane was at the office, so he had to limp grabbing his bad leg all the way there.

' Hush, this damn thingy.. '

House rasped as he grabbed the cane from the couch on his office with a movement. In that moment, he saw Cuddy standing on the doorstep of his office, which made him turn his head towards her; she seemed worried, far worried for it to be because of a patient.

' You are renowned from your charge as the boss of this case. '

Those words rang in House's ear for a while, his swollen eyes turning wide and seeing Cuddy perfectly: she knew. House was about to argue, but then he heard Cuddy's voice again, a bit softer than before if he'd dare to address.

' Go home. '

.

So that's how he is here, huh? He had been sleeping on Wilson's couch for a while, because even if he denied it, everyone needed help from others — thankfully, he didn't have to beg for it since Wilson granted it for free almost every time. House stumbled upwards, his body unbalanced; he was going to see Wilson on his room, because he was feeling too dammed to even try to occupy his thoughts with something else that wasn't the fever. His steps were clumsy, a very clear reaction to the heat of his body and the way it felt so heavy to lift from the couch and walk towards Wilson's room.

' —`Wilson.. '

House called as he entered Wilson's room by the door, having to limp but his leg awkwardly moving behind him. Being a crippled man while being feverish might as well be his less favourite thing in the world at the moment. House walked closer to the bed were Wilson was laid, no mattress, just a book and his life. He ploffed onto the bed, landing close to Wilson, just between his legs; His cheek was against Wilson's tigh and, even if he wouldn't mention it, his lips were almost touching Wilson's crotch.. He was basically laying in his dick right now. But House was too feverish to even care about where did he plof into or where did he plof in general.

House wasn't clueless about his position, but the blurry vision + the unbearable heat and the annoying headache were the only things that he'd care about now if he dared to care about anything in special. His eyes were numb, but there was a subtle hint of fondness and tiredness behind those light blue eyes that stared through Wilson's soul penetrating.