rivers_bend

Here is the final sequel to dontkickmycane's Of Small Spaces and Big Sticks

part two

part three

Author: rivers_bend
Word Count: ~3,600
Warnings: angst, darkness, bdsm and more angst.
Rating: NC-17
all usual disclaimers apply



House could see Cameron flicking through a journal on the other side of the glass. Behind him he heard the rain blowing in gusts across the balcony. The rain didn’t matter. He definitely wouldn’t be outside peering over the wall to see if Wilson was back upstairs yet in any case.

The yo-yo went wrong and hit the desk. Giving it up, House went to the door and glared at Cameron. “Is there a case for us in that journal?”

“Foreman’s in ICU; Chase is bothering the admissions nurses. They’ve got it covered.”

“Sure, if I want nurses dumb enough to fall for the shark story lining up outside my door. I want mystery. Intrigue. A patient. Go down and see what he’s doing.”

Cameron straightened the stack of journals and took her mug to the sink before going out the door.

“Ha,” House called after her. “As if you aren’t just doing as you’re told. You work for me, remember? That’s what they pay you for.”

“Did you miss me?” House managed not to turn towards the sound of Wilson’s voice.

“Were you gone?” House walked back into his office. Wilson followed and shut the door behind them.

When House finally turned to look at Wilson, he saw that he was grinning. Again. The man had become positively immune to sarcasm.

“How’s the girl,” House asked. Wilson’s grin disappeared.

“She’s still dying.”

“The new treatment?”

“No. Nothing.”

Now that it was gone House wished Wilson’s grin back.

“Do you want to shut those?” House gestured towards the blinds between the office and the conference room. There it was again. That grin.

House leaned on the edge of his desk, admiring the movement of Wilson’s shoulders under his white coat as he worked the blinds.

“Better?” Wilson asked when he’d finished.

“Yup. Come here.” Propped against the desk as he was, House was eye to eye with Wilson when he approached. Wilson stopped several inches from kissing distance and his smile got bigger.

“What?” House was just a little bit nervous again in the face of that smile.

“What what?” Wilson closed the distance between them and his smile melted into hot lips and tongue and House got lost.

Wilson had one hand on House’s chest and one on his face. House had both hands flat on the desk behind himself to keep from tipping backwards under Wilson’s enthusiasm.

Sudden noises from the other room made House pull away. Wilson looked hurt for a second before the low conversation and sounds of moving chairs registered.

“The prodigal sons and daughter return?”

“The prodigal son was welcome,” House grumbled. There was a tentative tap on the door. “Fifty says that’s Cameron.”

Wilson laughed. “There is no way I’m taking that bet.” When he opened the door it was indeed the girl standing there.

“And what have you found for us today doctor?” House was glad to hear his voice was steady.

“Twenty-three year old man admitted with left sided weakness now having visual disturbances and…”

“Excuse me Dr. Cameron. Dr. House, thank you for your help with that, um, problem… I’ll… Yes. I’ll let you know how that works out.”

Cameron stared at Wilson as he hurried out through the conference room not saying anything to Chase or Forman as he passed them. “What was that?”

“I’m teaching him to juggle.” House stomped to the whiteboard and picked up his pen. “Now. Start over.” He brandished the cane at Chase and Foreman. “You two can feel free to pitch in at any time. Don’t make the woman do all the work.”

* * * * * *

Wilson ducked into his office and closed his own blinds. He thought he might be going crazy. Suddenly everything made sense, except the way he was acting. It was clearly insane to be making out with a colleague – with his best friend – in the middle of a work day behind nothing more substantial than a glass wall and some strips of plastic, but wanting Greg answered so many questions that simply loving him never had. Plus, not kissing him didn’t seem to be an option.

Wilson tried to remember what it felt like to be afraid of Greg’s advances. It was less than a week ago. He could no longer imagine the thoughts or the feelings that went with them. He remembered in vivid detail the nights in the hotel in Canada, the plane, the night they got home - when House had fulfilled every detail of Wilson’s wish list and added some embellishments of his own as well.

Now he was sitting in his office, blinds closed, with a hard-on. Definitely insane.

Wilson got up, poured himself a cup of coffee. He had a stack of files that he needed to go through. It was going to be a long afternoon.

* * * * * *

The young man disappointed House by having nothing more exciting than a migraine, so House found himself with nothing to do after clinic duty. He’d ridden the bike that morning, but now it was raining way too hard for a ride home to be fun or safe. Perhaps Wilson would drive him home. Or they could go get some dinner.

House found himself outside Wilson’s office about to knock on the door. Then he remembered himself and just walked in.

“If I have to look at another one of these files I am going to go blind. Please tell me you are here to convince me that you need food and that for some reason it’s my turn to pay again.”

“Your turn to drive too. I brought the bike this morning. You’ll have to take me home after dinner.”

“Or, I could take you home instead of dinner.” Wilson raised his eyebrows and looked hopeful.

“I know divorce is expensive, but you’re not getting out of buying me dinner that easily.”

“Take out?”

House couldn’t help but smile at the winning look James shot him with that. “Take out. You call ahead. I’ll go get my coat.”

They plied their chopsticks amongst the boxes and it was like the old days. TV, beer, comfortable silence. House felt in control for the first time since the night of the stuck elevator.

James cleared away the cartons, making himself at home in kitchen. “Another beer?”

House considered. Another beer and he would want James to stay. It was better if he didn’t. Wilson was getting too comfortable. House was getting comfortable with Wilson getting comfortable. They couldn’t carry on like this. An affair with a male colleague could put Wilson’s standing at the hospital at risk. A nurse in the supply closet was one thing. Gay sex would be so much harder for the board to ignore.

“Yes or no. I’m refrigerating the kitchen here.”

“No. And if you’re driving you should probably make coffee instead.”

Wilson shut the refrigerator door and leaned against it. “Am I driving?”

House made a show of looking out the window. “Well I wouldn’t want to walk in this weather.”

Wilson crossed his arms. “You do remember that you started this, don’t you?”

“Started what?”

“You tagged along to my conference.”

“You invited me.”

“You knew I didn’t want you to come.”

“You invited me because you couldn’t admit that you did want me to come.”

“I was trying to get away from you!”

“Then what are you waiting for? Go!”

* * * * * *

Wilson took a deep breath and then another. Pushing off the refrigerator he stalked back into the living room and sat next to House on the sofa.

“I thought you were leaving.” House wouldn’t even look at him.

“I’m not.”

“It’s my house and I want you to leave.”

“I don’t think you do.” Wilson was determined not to let House win this argument.

“James, I just…”

“Stop. Just stop. Please. I need you to stop this.” I need to be able to say ‘I love you’.

To Wilson’s surprise House did stop. His eyes were chips of ice. Wilson none-the-less felt as though they were melting him. “I…” He’d almost said it. Knew he must not. If he had any chance of keeping Greg he had to not say ‘love’.

“You what?”

He should have known House would pick up on that tiny whispered word. “I’m staying. All night.”

“I hope you like the sofa.”

“I’m staying with you Greg.” Wilson put a deliberate hand on the back of House’s neck and kissed him with all the love and frustration tied up in their conversation.

He went weak with relief when House kissed him back with a matching passion.

* * * * * *

House knew he would give in as soon as Wilson reached for him, the knowledge confirmed by the rush of blood to his groin as James’s hand closed on his neck. He just wished he didn’t feel so out of control.

Wilson leaned in closer and pain shot through his leg. House jerked away and reached for his pill bottle automatically.

“Greg. I’m sorry.”

“Never let it be said Doctor Wilson let anything stand in the way of the road to orgasm.”

Wilson took the pill bottle out of his hand. Before House could protest he had opened it. Pinching a pill between forefinger and thumb he put it to House’s lips. In surprise, House opened his mouth to take it. Wilson placed the Vicodin on House’s tongue. The gesture made House’s mouth dry with lust. He had to use the last swig of beer to wash the pill down.

Pushing himself up off the sofa House reached for his cane. “Are you coming then?” Easy as that, the grin was back.

House knew that the ability to make James happy so easily should make him happy. He was much more comfortable with making Wilson aggravated, irritated or downright incensed however and he felt a need to get back to that place. Words were no longer an effective weapon where James was concerned. Frustrated, House wanted to lash out.

James came up behind House and put his arms around him, kissing the back of House’s neck. House kept his back to Wilson as he spoke. “You can stay on one condition.”

“Anything.” Wilson kissed House’s neck again.

“That’s the condition.”

“What?” James seemed to realize that the conversation had turned serious again.

“That’s the condition. That you will do anything I ask of you. Anything I tell you to do. If you want to refuse you just have to say ‘I’m going home’.”

Wilson came around so he was looking House in the eye when he spoke. “Anything. I mean that.” There was no hint of hesitation in his words.

House sat on the end of the bed. “Strip.”

Wilson’s hands were shaking slightly as he unbuttoned his shirt. Barely enough to be noticeable, but House noticed everything. The quiver set House’s heart beating faster.

When Wilson had discarded all his clothing he stood in front of House, the beginnings of an erection apparent, waiting. He was beautiful. House wanted to break him. The realization was like a punch in the gut.

House pointed to his bedside table. “Second drawer down. Bring me the handcuffs.”

“Have you been moonlighting as a cop again?”

“Souvenir. And less lip out of you.”

“Yes sir.” Wilson looked at House to gauge his response to that form of address. House was carefully non-committal.

Wilson handed him the handcuffs, the key in the lock. House pocketed the key and heard it rattle against his Vicodin. “Hands behind your back.”

Wilson turned his back on House and presented his hands calmly. House snugged the cuffs around his wrists. “Turn around and down on your knees. I want your mouth.”

“Yes sir.” Again, that little look, as if to say, Is this what you want?

House undid his fly and presented his hard-on. “You don’t have your hands, so you’ll have to make it good with what you have got.”

The bed was relatively low and Wilson had to spread his knees wide and bend to get the right angle. He used his tongue at first, licking from base to tip. House found watching James struggle for position almost as exciting as what he was doing with his tongue. Then he was enveloped in a slick wet heat as James closed his mouth over him.

House watched James work to take his length. After a moment he buried his fingers in Wilson’s hair and forced himself into the back of his throat. He felt the trigger of the younger man’s gag reflex and pushed beyond it, burying himself to the hilt in Wilson’s mouth.

Fucking Wilson’s face gave House a feeling of control. James didn’t fight him or try to get away, but he was clearly finding it difficult to keep up with House’s thrusts. As he felt the sensations start to overwhelm him, House pulled Wilson off his cock and pushed him backwards so that he lost his balance.

Wilson managed to right himself and knelt at House’s feet looking up at him. His lips were swollen and red, his breathing was ragged, but his gaze was steady. He was as hard as House had ever seen him.

House took a moment to get his breath back and then fished in his pocket for the handcuff key. “Your hands.” Wilson stood on shaking legs and turned so his hands were in reach. House released his right hand, leaving the cuffs dangling from the left wrist. “Bring me your shirt and your belt.”

Wilson moved to the pile of abandoned clothes, pulling his belt from the belt loops and pulling his tie from his shirt collar, leaving it behind, before bringing both items back. House touched the red mark the cuff had left on James’s wrist lightly before grabbing his arm to pull himself up. Taking the offered items he went around to the head of the bed.

House wrapped Wilson’s shirt around the lowest slat of the headboard, tying it in place with the sleeves. James may have opened his mouth to speak once, or he may just have been trying to get his breath back, but either way he stayed silent.

“On the bed, on your face. Hands either side of your shirt.” Wilson complied wordlessly. House leaned over, and looping the cuff chain over the now padded headboard, cuffed Wilson’s hands to the bed. James had his head turned to the side, watching him.

“Do you still want to stay all night?” House was holding the belt where Wilson could see it.

“Yes.”

“I’m going to hurt you.”

“Yes.”

“It will leave marks. Bruises.”

“Please…” Wilson ground his hips into the bed. “Yes, please.”

House felt his heart lurch. He was filled with pain and confusion, and yes, love, for this man chained willingly to his bed. House let his hurt and frustration and the lust coursing through his veins fill him as he raised his arm and brought the belt down across the pale cheeks of James’s ass.

The red wheal left behind was both shocking and satisfying. Again and again he brought the belt down, marking Wilson’s ass and thighs. James bucked his hips and gripped the head board until his knuckles were bone white. His legs spread wider and wider as he moved against the bed. With every smack of leather against skin House felt a jolt to his groin. James was burying cries in the pillow.

When Wilson’s skin was deep red from knees to waist House finally lowered his arm. He felt as though he was in the eye of a storm. James still gripped the headboard, his toes clenching and unclenching, his hips still twitching. His breaths came in ragged gasps. House let the belt drop to the floor as he laid a hand on James’s back to steady him.

As James’s breathing began to return to normal, House reached for the key and released him from the hand cuffs. James winced as he pulled his arms down to his sides. House stripped off his clothes and lay next to James on the bed. James turned towards him, eyes red and wet with tears.

House pulled him close and kissed him. Chests and hips and erections touching they clung to each other. House felt his face grow wet. He wasn’t entirely sure it was transfer from James. He pulled away to whisper in Wilson’s ear. “Turn over. I want to fuck you now.”

As Wilson turned away House took the lube and a condom from the drawer next to the bed. James’s skin was like fire as House fit himself to his lover’s back. Pushing James’s top leg up towards his chest House ran slick fingers along the crack of his ass. He lined his erection up with the tight ring of muscle and pushed past it, in one motion, into the heat beyond.

James gasped at the suddenness of the intrusion, jerking away, but House gripped his hip and thrust in deeper. James took a deep breath and relaxed a little, pushing back towards House as he did so. With one arm over James’s hip and the other around his neck and chest House held them fused together.

House rocked his hips into the bruises coming up on Wilson’s ass causing James to whimper softly. As he took James’s cock in his hand House sank his teeth into his shoulder. James bucked back in response.

House let go of James and reached for his hand, guiding it downward. “You take care of this,” he said as he grabbed James’s hip again. Holding on for leverage he thrust harder and harder, pulling James back against him. James fisted his own cock as instructed.

Teeth buried again in Wilson’s flesh, hips sore from the impact, House came so hard he saw stars. With House still inside him Wilson thrust into his hand a moment later. Both men lay collapsed, still fitted together like spoons.

House felt spent. His anger drained away. James Wilson didn’t need protecting. He didn’t need to be broken. He didn’t need to be feared. He had not run from pain. He had asked for it, as though he knew it was love. He had looked House in the eye and offered to take anything. He had meant it. James was stronger than House had given him credit for. Instead of making him feel weak, this realization made House feel somehow stronger himself.

House slid out, discarding the condom, and rolled James onto his back. Laying his head on James’s chest he rested his bad leg across James’s thighs. The twinge of pain at the contact felt somehow good.

* * * * * *

Wilson clung to Greg with an arm around his shoulders and his free hand sought the line of his jaw. He explored the texture of skin over bone, stubble prickling his fingers, nerves sending the message to his brain; This is the man you love.

The skin of his ass felt every thread of the sheets. One bruise on the inside of his thigh, where the tip of the belt had caught him, felt as though it might burst open. And yet every stripe administered contained the words ‘I take you’ and ‘I give myself to you’ and so each one was precious.

James could feel the change in Greg. The tension and frustration were gone. He was running his fingers over the edges of the welts he had laid on Wilson’s skin. Feather light touches, they stung even so. That was loving Greg House. Wilson found he didn’t mind at all. The touch was such a gift, the pain was just a part of it.

Nudging Greg’s forehead with his chin he tilted Greg’s head so they were eye to eye. Wilson lifted his head so he could kiss the man looking at him with that clear blue gaze. ‘I love you’, he thought. He realized he’d said the words aloud. Greg didn’t run away. He didn’t lash out. He tightened his grip and kissed James’s chest and sighed happily.

Wilson closed his eyes and breathed.