If Wilson had mentioned any of that out loud, House would have acted very insulted. Acted being the key word, here, because he wasn't going to try defending his dating tactics. Dating just wasn't his thing. Plus, cheap places tended to make you focus more on the other person and not the oh-so-fantastic food that more expensive places tended to dish out. The few times he tried actually being romantic, he just got called cheesy, so... yeah, not his thing. But maybe it wouldn't be so bad with Wilson.

"Oh, stop defending flowers," House grouched. "Want to run around in a rainbow flag next? I'm sure everybody in the hallways will love you." Again, his sarcasm wasn't terribly pointed, he was just having fun. Because he'd spent the last few days drunk or not talking, so he needed to make up in bitching time. But venus flytraps, romantic? "Since when did carnivorous plants become romantic? Because that's totally the kind of romantic I could go for," he winked lasciviously.

He snorted lightly at Wilson's reaction to the ass slap, and restrained himself from doing it again just to see if Wilson would jump even more. "Well, lucky for you if I am," he over exaggerated a pointed leer, which... really didn't need to exaggerated all that much, really. "I don't care what restaurant you pick, just book a table and meet me outside the castle tomorrow. I have transport." Which, yes, was his motorbike, and House wondered exactly how much cajoling it was going to take to get Wilson to ride on the 'death trap'.