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“So.”
Wilson heard the door swing shut and the familiar rhythm of House’s cane get louder as he approached the younger man.
“You want to talk about your…” He paused for a second.
Wilson hung his head.
“Girl troubles?” James offered an easy dig at himself.
“I was going to say tantrum. But sure. Let’s play the best friend game.”
“The best friend game?” He cocks an eyebrow.
“You know, we’ll have a sleepover! Chat about boys, paint each other’s nails. Who knows, even a half-naked pillow fight?” House’s lips curled into some sort of grin, an invitation for Wilson to join in.
“Your true intentions are really showing, Greg.” He taunted, his voice steady as he leaned forward to pick his drink from the table next to him. He tried his very hardest to wipe the faint smile off his face, realising that at some point he probably should clue the elder man into his problems. He is his roommate after all.
“Let me guess, the broad you were dating? She caught wind of you and your—” He looked up and down Wilson, noticing the two top buttons of his shirt had been unbuttoned and buttoned back up wrongly.
“—exploits?”
“I guess you could say that,” he shrugged, reaching towards his tie to loosen it
.“But really, yelling at Cameron of all people? Who would’ve thought that the lovable, respectable James Wilson would be such a disrespectful misogynist?” House leered playfully, shifting his weight as he stood, both hands gripping his cane. To him, this was foreplay. He could sense an argument between the pair was incoming; how bad would it really be for him to stir the pot a little more, make it at least a little bit entertaining for him?
“Misogyny?” James chuckled, his right hand rubbing his temple. He gave up on his tie. The random woman he slept with earlier had clearly tugged on it too hard; it felt like a choker around him. Constant pressure on his neck.
He wondered if it was enough to kill him, if dying from embarrassment at his best friend's asking all of these invasive, prodding questions would be a good enough reason.
“She told me all about it,” Gregory continued, making sure to put emphasis on the ‘all,’ drawing it out for just a second too long.
“How long have you been—“
“Stop with these questions, Greg.” He breathed through his nose harshly, wishing that the other doctor wasn’t standing between the doorway. It’s not like he can just barge right past him, shoving him aside. God knows House will purposefully fall, maybe even fracturing a wrist, something petty just to make James feel sorry.
Greg frowns, swaying slightly where he stands. His face seems to darken as his mind whirs, trying to come up with the next thing he could say or do to push his roommates buttons.
“Don’t tell me you’re heading to your bedroom so soon,” Greg taunts, stepping to the side, an open invitation for James to walk straight past him and into his bedroom where he could have some peace, to end the back-and-forth of arguments.
“Do you take me for a fool?”
Wilson sipped the last few drops from an aged plastic water bottle he had been refilling since God knows when, placing it down on the dusty side table, and made a mental note that the apartment really is due a clean soon. He looked like a pathetic mess, his shirt crumpled and hastily buttoned up, his tie wrangled into some kind of knot. He couldn’t bear to think of what his coworkers thought of him earlier that day; it hadn’t even crossed his mind that he should probably check to make sure he looked acceptable in a mirror or something.
House’s eyes lit up as Wilson said that, to him, that was an acceptance of the invitation, of the foreplay. His mind was humming with excitement; finally, this is what he had been waiting for all week. He slowly moved towards James, a grin on his face. He reached towards his tie and focused on undoing it, noticing the way the elder man shivered at the touch of his cold hands on his neck.
“There,” he says triumphantly, before looking at Wilson with widened eyes like a dog awaiting a treat.
“Thank you,” Wilson sighed, before gesturing to his bedroom and walking the short distance to it.
“Do you have any preferences today?” He asked House, trying and failing to keep his tone level, to mask the amount of excitement he was feeling.
“Not really, let’s see if we can get your…” Greg paused, “Creative juices flowing.”
Wilson nodded as he opened a drawer next to his bed, his tongue grazing his lips as he focused on the contents. This was a normal interaction between the two, an unspoken dynamic between the pair. Wilson would take out his energy, his frustrations on House, and House would lap it up like a desperate dog. This had become more frequent recently, as if Wilson couldn’t get enough of it, like the sight of his coworker on his knees, pleading for some sort of mercy, was a drug only he could access.He reached for a pair of leather handcuffs, turning around to see House sitting patiently on the end of his bed. This was routine between the two now, a mechanical process that tried to avoid any romance or affection. This was simply something primal, instinctive pleasure that means nothing more and nothing else.
He moved House’s hands behind his back and cuffed them before tugging them harshly to make sure they were secure. He ignored the gasp House made at the sudden movement.
“Are you ready?” Wilson asked, waiting for a sign to continue. House eagerly nodded. Wilson placed his hands on the younger man’s shoulders before motioning for him to get on the floor, onto the designated pillow he kept at the end of his bed for him to kneel on. Wilson was nothing if not considerate for House and his disability.
“Thank you,” Wilson stated, his voice small. He wasn’t very used to the idea of things like this, this whole situation and dynamic. Greg was the one that suggested it almost a year ago, turning over from his air mattress that he slept on when they first moved into the apartment and proposing the idea.James ran his hands across House’s shoulders, tracing his neck and collarbones before placing his hands on his own waistband, undoing his belt with soft clicks of the metal and the sound of the leather rustling the fabric as it leaves his jeans. He fiddled with the button for a moment or two before pulling his zipper down and pulling his jeans to his ankles.
He felt vulnerable, like a deer in headlights, as he stood before his kneeling friend, tent rapidly growing in his boxers and a wet patch glaringly obvious against the white fabric of his underwear. House was in his own world completely, focused entirely on his bulge and staring with such fierce intent it was unnerving.He ran a hand through his own hair before reaching down, freeing his dick from his boxers. House’s lips slightly parted eagerly, part in shock and part in hunger, as he admired the weeping cock. He slowly leaned his head closer to James and lightly pressed his lips against the red, tender tip, feeling James shudder from the minuscule amount of attention he had given him.
Wilson grit his teeth before motioning for House to continue, feeling his cheeks hollow as he slowly wrapped his lips around the member, his tongue flattening across the base and glans. He gasped at the sensation, the wet warmth that had enveloped him, and moved his hand gently to the back of House’s head, acting as a guide. He considered himself to be a gentle lover, especially when it came to House, and tried his best to stay in the moment, closing his eyes and imagining it was someone, anyone but House. Maybe the girl he had slept with earlier in the day or his ex-girlfriend. Anyone that wasn’t a man.
A familiar feeling in the pit of his stomach tightened, and he pulled away from House’s mouth with an obscene popping sound. House’s lips were swollen, and his eyes were faintly wet with tears from attempting to suppress his gag reflex. James let out a quick breath at the cold air that wrapped around him now, the change of scenery feeling harsh against his sensitive skin. He gestured to House to stand and placed his hands around his chest in order to assist him, given the fact his cane was against the dresser and he didn’t have the use of his arms.
He placed a firm hand on the small of Greg’s back, pushing him until he was bent over the side of the bed, facing a wall. James prefers it this way, where he can’t see his friend's face; there are no feelings there.House shuffled his position on the bed as Wilson quickly unbuttoned his jeans, pulling them and his boxers down in one pull. He opened up the drawer once more, fetching a condom and a bottle of lube. He puts the condom on quickly, a skill he’s rather proud of, before applying a small amount of lube on his fingers. He doesn’t like using a lot of lubrication; it takes away from the friction, and plus, House is always on some sort of pain medication that he can barely tell the difference between lubed and unlubed.He traces the rim of House’s ass carefully before dipping a finger inside, skilfully pumping it in and out. He hated the whole preparation thing; he felt like it took too much time. Another finger was swiftly added, and it wasn’t long until he was scissoring them, making space for his dick.
He instructed House to take a deep breath in and moved his cock inside of him, feeling House twitch and grind against him as soon as the tip entered.Wilson knew he wasn’t going to last long and decided that because of that, he could risk being rougher. He immediately bottomed out inside of House, feeling a stifled gasp and whimper from the bottom as he bit into the bedsheet, before quickly retracting himself and pushing himself fully back inside even more aggressively, maintaining a steady but fast rhythm as he fucked into the man, hands gripping his waist. He slammed into him, over and over, ignoring the mixed cries of both pain and pleasure as he used House, fucking into him as if he was nothing but a toy to be used.
He kept at this until it was overwhelming, a burning heat inside of him and his body and instincts screaming at him to keep going, to keep chasing an orgasm. He leaned in closer to House, lips parting as he breathed out the words ‘thank you,’ his voice strained as he began to orgasm, cum spurting from the tip of his cock and filling the condom, panting as he continued to thrust even through the orgasm.
It was some time before Wilson pulled out, quickly discarding the used condom and removing the cuffs. He noticed red marks around Greg’s wrists, and it had never even occurred to him to make sure that the bottom had even orgasmed. He shrugged it off, knowing that if he hadn’t by now, he most certainly would later tonight, reminiscing on what happened today. He fetched House a water bottle, and watching him drink it all before tossing the plastic in the bin next to his desk, he dressed himself and went into the living room.
“Sports—I’m probably missing the game,” House mumbled as he shuffled past Wilson. This was probably the most acknowledgement they would share about the scenario, and it was just the way Wilson preferred it.