DISCLAIMER: I don't own House. Sorry! But it's true lol.

Just a little House/Wilson fluff that I felt like writing down. Slightly angsty at the end but nothing dramatic.

And this was edited by my friend, Lisa...thanks, deary!

Please read and review!

ETA: I had some people on Live Journal alert me to the fact that Dramamine is in fact a motion sickness medication. I changed it to Benadryl. I am Australian and the only American meds I know about is Tylenol lol. Thanks to those who pointed it out!

The familiar flickering of the TV met Wilson when he arrived home early Friday evening. He expected to find House sprawled out on the couch either asleep or half conscious (he always overdid the Benadryl much to Wilson's chagrin. If it wasn't one thing it was another).

Tossing his keys into the bowl beside the door, Wilson approached the couch quietly in case House was asleep.

He wasn't. In fact, if Wilson wasn't mistaken, he was crying. That in and of itself was rather alarming, as House didn't cry at anything (except, perhaps, Dead Poet's Society and even then he still managed to mock Wilson; saying that if he lost his double chin he would look like Neil's older brother).

'House, are you okay?'

House jumped and immediately knuckled the tears from his eyes.

'What the hell are you doing home this early?' House snapped, clearly embarrassed.

Wilson ignored House in favour of the TV screen. He couldn't suppress the chuckle that escaped his lips.

'You're crying over Finding Nemo?' Wilson's tone dripped with incredulity. 'The big bad diagnostician of PPTH is crying at a Disney movie?'

House grabbed at the remote furiously and changed to an episode of Blackadder. He knew there was no denying the uncharacteristic shine in his eyes, but that didn't mean he wouldn't try.

'No,' he replied dryly. 'It's just that your tie is so damn ugly it's making my eyes water.'

Wilson did what he did best, refused Houses attempts to skirt over it. He flopped down on the couch with a knowing smirk. 'The great Gregory House goes to pieces over a clown fish losing his son.'

Ignoring Wilson, House tried to focus on Prince George and Baldrick's antics, but the Benadryl that was most likely coursing through his body appeared to be taking effect. His eyelids drooped.

'How are you feeling?' Wilson finally asked, giving up on teasing his lover. It was no fun when House couldn't retaliate.

House turned unfocused eyes on Wilson and in a slightly slurred voice said, 'Horrible…now shut up and let me die peacefully.'

Wilson grinned. House never complained about being ill unless it was very minor and he could garner a little sympathy off Wilson. Not to mention getting off work.

'Do you want me to help you to bed?'

House grunted and slapped away Wilson's hand when he tried to grab his arm.

Wilson sighed and sat back to watch the remaining five minutes of Blackadder.

'You know why I did it?'

Wilson turned to look at House who was peering at him with glassy blue eyes.

'Why do any of us do it?'

'No….I cried…because….it's sweet.'

Wilson's eyebrows met his hairline at this statement. Greg House does not refer to anything, much less a Disney movie, as sweet. Then again, if House was this out of it, he most likely wouldn't remember tomorrow. Wilson decided to let his lover babble.

'Why is it sweet, House?' Wilson muttered softly.

'Just…the father son…thing…it's sweet…I gave up…' House's sentence was finished with a loud snore.

Wilson was slightly taken aback by this answer. Of course, after a bit of deliberation, it made sense. House had always and would always crave his father's attention and approval.

Wilson ruffled the sleeping figure's hair, turned off the TV and went to fix himself some dinner.

Until next time, Abyssinia!

Lucy