Look Over Here

House cheered as the title credits for Baywatch started to roll. He just loved seeing those people run, especially in slow motion where he could catch every bounce. He was vaguely aware of his office door opening as he sat, mesmerized by Carmen Electra's knockers. The door shut, and footsteps approached him. House stiffened as a hand brushed onto his shoulder, but relaxed when he saw it was just Wilson.

"So, taking a break from that exhausting clinic duty are we?" Wilson asked, leaning down to see the portable television better.

"Not at all. I'm waiting for Cameron to get back here with those test results." House tried to focus on Carmen's hooters as Wilson's breath tickled his ear, he was so close. All House could think was that if Wilson didn't stand up soon, his exposed throat might get a bit bruised.

"Cameron's a cute girl, isn't she? I bet you're just waiting for her to realize that the bitter old man is her dream date!" Wilson teased.

"Not at all. You of all people should know that Cameron is not my type. She just doesn't have large enough breasts. See Miss Electra there? That is my type."

"So, what you're saying is that I'm not your type either, because my chest certainly can't rival Carmen's?" Wilson had not moved his head, staying very close to House, his breath feathery on his friend's skin.

"Look over here." House demanded.

"What? Why?"

"Just do it."

Wilson turned his face to House, who appeared to study him for a minute, before grabbing Wilson's tie and yanking him into a kiss. They stayed like that for a minute, two men slouched over a mini-TV, mouths pressed together and tongues flitting back and forth between them. At long last they pulled apart, both gasping for air a little bit.

"You are so my type." House said, looking pointedly at his friend.