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jack

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[continued from here]

Now that the dog was gone, House was still really stoned, but at least he didn't have the added paranoia of the beady-eyed thing watching.

"I'm usually easy," House said to Jack, his words slurring together just a little.

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"Didn't you used to be a top?"

"Always," he said, stopping and looking at him again. "But I love you and you...I mean..."

Fuck, that was a hard question while he was stoned.

"...Why?"

"Because I wanted to make sure that it wasn't something else you were doing just to make me happy." Another little goofy smile, and then, "Or maybe I just want you to tell me that my amazing cock converted you."

He hesitated for a second, then leaned in to brush another gentle kiss against Greg's lips. "I never trusted anyone enough to let them, Greg. I'm fine."

House frowned a little. "But I don't want you to be fine, I want... if you're going to be with me, Jack, just with me, I don't want you to settle. I don't want you to miss, uh, more than you have to."

Too many words. Way too much talking. Jack blinked once and tried to focus on what he was saying.

"...What?"

House blinked, and then said rapidly, "IjustmeantthatyoucanfuckmesometimesifyouwanttobecauseIdon'twantyoutomissit."

A grin spread slowly and he rocked his hips forward. "I know I can," he whispered, nuzzling in against hGreg's neck. "But not now. I want you inside me."

House smiled slowly. "You really like it?"

He rolled them over, bracing himself on top of Jack. Something he didn't do too often because of his leg. "You love it, don't you?" he breathed against Jack's neck.

Bending a knee and holding his sides lightly, Jack closed his eyes and nodded. "I really do. Love how you fuck me...love how you say my name."

House's cock brushed against Jack's thigh. "I love that you always come naked into my bed. You're so open and comfortable with your body."

"Hard to feel you when I'm dressed," he said, sinking his teeth into Greg's shoulder a little, sucking lightly.

"I love you," House groaned. "You're so fucking beautiful. So beautiful fucking... Want to make you scream, baby."

Jack shivered beneath him and spread his legs, raising them and hooking them behind his back. "Want you so damn much..."

"Good thing you've got me then, huh baby? You want it hard and fast or slow and agonizing?"

Reaching up to hold Greg's hair, face, neck, anything he could touch, Jack arched off the bed against him. "I need you now," he groaned.

"Can I..." House licked his lips, taking a moment to gauge how his leg felt. "Want to take you from behind."

Another groan, lower and more hungry, tore from his throat. "Fuck, yes. God..." he managed, his cock jerking against Greg's hip.

"I love it when you make sounds like that," House whispered against Jack's throat. "On your hands and knees."

He wriggled out from beneath House, shifting on the bed and rising on his hands and knees. His skin almost burned at the sudden cold and he itched for Greg to touch him. "Jesus, Greg, just touch me," he begged.

House ran a hand slowly down Jack's back, from his neck to the curve of his ass. Then bracing his other hand on Jack's hip, he sucked a finger into his mouth and then brought it down and slowly slid it inside him. "I could... go try to find some... oil or something..."

Jack whimpered softly and nodded, but still rocked back, rolling his hips. "Yes," he gasped, looking over at the table and reaching for a bottle that was to far to grasp. "Jesus, Greg, please..."

House wasn't sure what the "yes" and the "please" were referring to, but the whimper was enough to make him pull away anyway. He had to slide over on the bed and stretch to reach the bottle himself.

When he came back, he started to open the bottle, but then after a brief hesitation, lowered his head and slid his tongue against Jack's entrance instead.

He'd expected something cool and slippery, so when the velvety wet heat moved over the area he couldn't keep from crying out. All the muscles in his back went rigid as he tried desperately to keep still.

House couldn't keep this up for very long because of the somewhat painful position of being crouched back on his knees. But he kept it up for a minute or so, and then finally opened the bottle of oil and replaced his mouth with a slick finger.

Jack cried out again, higher this time, his voice cracking. In his head, it echoed and the part that generally kept him quieter just so the whole island didn't hear was put to sleep, blanketed in a smoky haze.

"Greg...God, Greg. Just...just want me," he gasped.

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