As always House is Wilson's (and David Shore's) not mine.
Wilson ran his hand along House's stubbled jaw line, very slowly. He was determined never to forget a single micro-second of this moment.
House uncharacteristically remained silent, allowing Wilson's fingers to explore his face, and only raised his eyebrows slightly when the other doctor moved his hands down to House's neck and chest.
In one swift move, House grabbed Wilson by his tie and pulled him down for a passionate kiss, lips meeting, tongues rubbing, teeth clashing.
Wilson was too lost in ecstasy to notice the House had begun undoing the buttons on his shirt, gasping only when House's rough hands swept over his nipple.
Before they could progress any further, Foreman made a suggestion.
"Maybe it's Lupus?"
Chase snapped out of his day-dream, wiping the drool from his mouth as House pointed out that it was never Lupus.