"House. Can I talk to you?"
The offending party raised his hands in a dismissive gesture, as if to say, "Here I am. So talk."
"In my office, please." The fellows filed away the expression on Wilson's face as "scary" and turned back to the medical files they held as House stood with a mock-fearful look on his face.
"But Mr. Principal, I didn't mean to do it."
"House."
"Be right back!" he said, rather cheerfully for a man going to what was certainly to be his doom. He limped through the balcony and into Wilson's office, turning to look at his friend expectantly. Wilson's expression had changed.
"Take off your clothes," he said, taking House's cane and throwing it on the couch.
"I really like what you've done with the room. Especially the wall that looks just like windows." House's mastery of sarcasm was impressive, given that Wilson was now brushing the stubble on House's cheeks with rough kisses and simultaneously undoing the button on House's pants.
"Behind the desk, then. Take- off- your- clothes." Wilson interspersed the order with kisses traveling slowly southward, down House's neck to the collar of his shirt.
"You first," House smirked, as Wilson dragged him nimbly down.
The only thing louder than Wilson's mocking laugh was the thump they made landing.