Category: House, M.D.
Warnings: House/Wilson explicit slash; smut
A/N: I have no idea why I wrote this. I was just lying in bed trying to sleep and for some reason… this thought popped into my head. So there you have it. My muse is a slash addict and she won't get help. What can I do?
Very smutty and slashy, no real "plot" per se.
Dr. Gregory House leaned back against the pillow, sighing contentedly and closing his eyes. One arm was folded underneath his head; the other was strewn carelessly across the opposite side of the bed. A moment passed and then he felt a familiar pressure against his shoulder as Dr. James Wilson rested his head there and wrapped an arm possessively around House's bare midsection.
"Still hungry?" he asked, glancing up at his lover's thoughtful face.
House didn't respond at first, just lying there, thoughtfully staring up at the ceiling. Finally, after a long minute, he turned to look at the younger doctor.
"Can I tie you up?" he asked.
Wilson blinked, staring at House with wide brown eyes, "I… what?"
"Not a difficult question, really," House said.
"But a confusing question… What do you mean 'Can you tie me up'?" Wilson sat up slightly, raising himself on his elbows to stare down at the other man.
"I mean," House sighed exasperatedly, "Can I tie you up? Just to try it. You know, for sex…" House was getting just slightly annoyed at Wilson's lack of understanding. Jesus, had the man never done anything… adventurous in bed?
Wilson blinked, "For sex? Are you serious?"
"No, I'm kidding. Of course I'm serious!" House sighed, shaking his head. "I. Want. To. Tie. You. Up."
"Because… I want to. Isn't that answer enough?"
Wilson pursed his lips, frowning, "And there's no ulterior motive here? You wouldn't tie me to the bed and then take pictures and put them all over the internet?"
"Jimmy, I'm insulted!" House made a suitably shocked yet sarcastic face. "How could you think I'd do something so low? Besides… I'm the only one who gets to see you naked anymore and I'm not big on sharing."
Wilson snorted and shook his head, thinking for a second, "Ok. Fine, you can tie me up… if you'll agree to let me be on top next time."
House made a face and turned his head to stare at the other man. "Not gonna happen," he said, shaking his head.
"Why not?" Wilson demanded, frowning down at his lover, "It's not like you haven't done it before."
"I know that," House said, now pushing himself up on his elbows to look Wilson in the eye. "You've fucked me six times."
"Six times? You counted the times?"
"Of course I have! Six times in two years, Jimmy. That's my limit,"
Wilson raised a brow, "Six is your limit? Why?"
"Because I happen to prefer to not be the girl in the relationship,"
Wilson rolled his eyes and sighed, falling back against the bed and folding his hands over his chest. "So, what? I'm supposed to be 'the girl'?"
"You make a very sexy girl, Wilson, don't worry,"
Wilson snorted, "That's not what this is about," he said, "You don't have a problem being on bottom; you just like to be in control. You like the power,"
"Of course I do! How the hell long have you known me?"
Wilson smirked, "Well, if you want to tie me up, that's my offer. Otherwise, no deal."
House muttered under his breath and rolled over, now thoroughly pissed off and frustrated. "Fine. I guess we don't have a deal then,"
Two days later, House threw the door to Wilson's office open and came limping in, stopping right in front of the desk and leaning forward on his cane, staring down at the oncologist as he worked.
Wilson slowly looked up, raising a brow and meeting House's piercing stare. "Can I… help you?" he asked slowly, unsure of what was bothering House this time. It was usually something entirely ridiculous and pointless, but if House couldn't find a puzzle to distract him, his mind would create one out of nothing. Wilson had gotten used to that a long time ago.
"Why do you want to fuck me?" he finally asked with that distinct candor and lack of subtlety that Wilsons sometimes loved, sometimes hated. Right now he wasn't sure which it was.
Wilson put the pen down and sat up straighter, staring at House for a moment before finally responding.
"Why do you want to tie me up?"
House frowned, blinking. "That's not an answer, that's a question."
"That's not an answer, that's a deflection," Wilson said, crossing his arms. "So either you drop the subject, or answer the question."
House narrowed his eyes and studied Wilson's face for a long minute, trying to find any sign that he was bluffing in any way. Giving up, he sighed. "Okay, fine. You let me tie you up, I'll let you fuck me."
Wilson smiled, "See, that wasn't so hard, was it?"
"Yeah, yeah, whatever. Don't get all smug with me, Jimmy," House muttered bitterly, "Tonight is my turn."
"Mmhmfgthhh…" Wilson tried to say something, but talking was extremely difficult with House's tongue down his throat. His entire body was on edge, tingling with pleasure and writhing and squirming and his chest was rising and falling heavily, each breath seeming to be harder and harder to force out. House leaned up, panting and staring down at his lover through lust fogged eyes.
He was straddling Wilson, careful not to twist his right leg at too odd of an angle, hands resting on the younger man's hips. Wilson's arms were tugged above him, wrists tied to the slats in the headboard with his tie, much to his annoyance. House had refused to use anything else. Apparently, he really liked how that tie looked on Wilson.
"…What… is… it?" House panted, blinking a few times to clear some of the fog from his brain.
"Sorry…" Wilson's voice was faint and breathy, "Couldn't breathe…"
House sighed and rolled his eyes, "Oh stop whining," he panted, "You're fine. Now shut up and enjoy the pleasure…"
Wilson started to say something else but his words were once again cut off as House's mouth covered his, tongue pressing back in, running along the roof of his mouth, tangling with his own tongue. Wilson lifted his head as much as he could, attempting to take back some of the control of the kiss, but House wouldn't let him.
His hands started to explore the familiar contours of Wilson's body; slowly sliding up his side, brushing his fingers against the sensitive skin on his chest, twisting and toying with his nipples and causing Wilson to yelp into the kiss.
House's lips moved from Wilson's mouth down along his jaw and throat, licking and sucking and biting gently every now and then. The room was filled with the sound of their labored breathing as the older man ground his hips against Wilson's groin and he arched off the bed, seeing stars in his eyes.
"Greg…" he breathed, panting and tugging his wrists, wanting so badly to touch himself as House moved his hips away and removed all contact from his groin. God he was going to explode, teetering on the edge of release. House just grinned that mischievous smirk of his and let his hands wander back down, teasing the skin on Wilson's inner thighs, letting his hand slip down underneath him, one sweat and spit slicked finger pressing against his entrance.
Wilson's breath caught and his head was devoid of nearly every coherent thought as House pushed the finger inside, other hand still just barely not touching him. He was going to go insane, he was sure of it. His hips bucked forward and he let out a loud moan as House's finger brushed his prostate. Oh sweet Jesus, he was going to die. He nearly whined, desperately arching his hips up, trying to press House's free hand against himself. If House wanted to drive him mad, he was certainly succeeding.
There was another finger inside of him now, and then another. He knew it wouldn't be much longer before House was inside of him, but damn it he still hadn't touched him yet and Wilson was sure his brain was melting.
"Please…" he panted, his eyes closed, chest heaving, sweat glistening on his body as House worked his fingers in and out of his lover, every now and then brushing his prostate and grinning at the way Wilson's mouth would fall open in that desperate little 'O'.
"Need you… to… touch me… please…" Wilson begged, rocking his hips into House's fingers, "Need you in me… Greg… Now…"
House smiled and suddenly the fingers were gone and Wilson felt empty and sad and still House wasn't touching him. Goddammit, what would it take get those fingers on him? He could hear the bottle of lube being snapped open and House's breathy moans as he rubbed it onto himself. Wilson peered up at him through lidded eyes, watching the lines of the elder's face almost disappear as he tossed the bottle to the floor and shifted between his thighs.
He pushed his knees up and apart and slid closer, still careful of his right leg, which was starting to ache just a little bit. He positioned himself at Wilson's entrance and the oncologist did whine this time, shoving his hips up further until he could feel House pressing into him.
"Please…" he begged, desperate now. He was on the edge, he could feel himself ready to explode and he couldn't take it any longer.
House went slowly, careful not to hurt James. He let out a loud moan, breathing Wilson's name as he fully sheathed himself inside his lover. He stayed that way for a moment, catching his breath and letting Wilson get used to the change, before slowly pulling back out and pushing back in.
After a few more agonizingly slow thrusts the pair worked out a rhythm and their hips rocked together, their moans and the sound of skin on the skin and the smell of sweat and sex filling the bedroom. They managed to keep the pace for several minutes, Wilson desperately pushing up onto House, eyes clenched shut as he tugged harder at his bound wrists. And finally, finally, House's fingers wrapped around him, squeezing and massaging and teasing and wonderful.
He knew he wasn't going to last much longer, he was light headed and his body was tingling with pleasure, breathing was almost painful and yet everything felt so damn good. House moving inside him, his hands on him, the familiar, wonderful feeling of being with the other man. The odd erotic feeling of being entirely at House's mercy…
His body was quivering and House knew Wilson would come any second now. He took his hand off his penis and quickened the pace, panting and gasping for breath as he felt Wilson's muscles convulse and tighten around him, back arching off the bed as he came with a loud, keening moan. The feeling of Wilson tightening around him and the wanton look on his face sent House over the edge and he grunted, gripping Wilson's hips in a bruising grasp as he released inside of him.
The two collapsed a minute later, both still panting, sticky with sweat and come and exhausted and aching, but undeniably sated.
Once he got his breath back, Wilson gasped slightly and turned his head toward House, who was still panting, lying on top of him, eyes closed.
"I love you…" he panted, smiling as House smirked and opened his eyes, rolling off of him and laying a hand on his chest.
"If it's any consolation, you're a great fuck, Jimmy," House taunted, smiling and meeting his eyes. Wilson didn't mind. That was really how House said "I love you,". It was enough that he knew it was true at least. He'd told him so before, just not often.
He let his eyes travel toward his bound wrists and he tugged them again, "Can you untie me now?"
House smirked and eyed the tie, "I think I prefer you like this. Besides, if I never untie you, you never get to fuck me and I can do whatever I want…"
"House…" Wilson nearly whined again, making a face at his lover. "Untie me."
The older man smirked, pushing himself onto his side and up on his elbows before leaning in close to Wilson's face and pressing a long, lazy kiss to his lips. He leaned back and shook his head, "Not yet," he said, "I'm not finished with you, Jimmy. We've got a long weekend ahead of us."
A/N: I still don't know what possessed me to write this, but after long arguments with my muse I finally decided to post it. Extremely anxious about this. It's not my first time writing smut or slash, but it is my first time writing House/Wilson.
I hope this alright. Please, please review with any comments and/or criticisms.