House's hand curled into a fist in his lap, and then after a moment, he was laughing. Laughing sourly, like the act itself was killing him. "I knew it! I knew the minute I saw that kid... I knew James wouldn't be able to keep his hands off him. He's even needier than Sam, and way prettier, and not fucking nuts to boot." He thought about his and Wilson's last encounter, when Wilson had been so eager to be... punished. The flickers of guilt in his eyes. House had assumed it was just because he was having impure thoughts about the boy - not that he'd actually done anything about it.

"It's not your fault, Phedre," he muttered after a moment, "I'm glad you told me. It's just, every time this happens I feel like more of a fucking idiot."