misanthrope_md | for Jack

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jack

for Jack

For two days now, House had been taking Vicodin. Not as much as he'd been taking when he'd left Princeton - having cleaned it out of his system, it didn't take as much to make the pain go away. Though he knew it was only a matter of time before he started to build up a tolerance again.

In the meantime, he saw no reason to tell anyone. Certainly not Wilson or Chase, who would probably try to talk him out of it. What did they know? They didn't understand. Sure, he functioned. And he might be a jerk, but he still came off as a normal human being most of the time. But he was still in constant pain.

And he hadn't told Jack just because... well, he wasn't sure why. Maybe it was just easier if he kept it completely to himself. Like it didn't really exist. Because then he wasn't doing anything potentially stupid or selfish.

But despite all the misgivings, he felt great. Better than he'd felt in six months.

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House pushed the dildo slowly, until it was buried to the hilt. It was slightly bigger than his own cock.

"I told you I'd do whatever you wanted. So what's next? Fucking? Spanking? Coming on your face?"

"Ohhh, mygod, Greg...you're driving me crazy." It was hard to think, let alone choose.

"Spank me," he said finally, hesitant to even ask. "...Hurt me."

House hesitated as well, but then just moved to the bedposts and with quick movements, untied the knots that bound Jack's wrists. "On your hands and knees."

Again, he obeyed without question, rolling and rising. "I trust you," he said softly, just to have it out there.

House settled himself comfortably on the bed beside Jack. Well, as comfortable as he could be with a raging hard-on. There's no way he'd be able to stand this if he hadn't come once already.

He ran his hand over Jack's ass, lingering at the dildo still wedged inside him, then decided to leave it.

He brought his hand back and slapped, hard.

He took it, not making a sound. He didn't move. Even his breathing slowed down.

Instead of moving to the other side, House brought his hand down again in the exact same spot, harder this time.

That prompted a sharp cry, but still he held still. "Greg, yesss," he hissed through gritted teeth.

House really didn't want to think about why Jack liked being hurt. It was something that had always made him uncomfortable about Phedre, because it was something he didn't understand.

He grabbed the end of the dildo with his free hand and started fucking Jack slowly with it as he brought his other down hard on the same spot on Jack's ass that was now bright red.

"Oh, Jesus, Greg," he whimpered, moving back against it. "Fuck me harder..."

House was pretty sure he couldn't do that the normal way, having already strained himself fucking Jack against that wall, but the dildo was a different story.

"I'm going to make you come again," he growled as he fucked Jack harder and faster with the dildo, the muscles in his arm tightening with the force of it.

Jack wasn't entirely sure that was possible, but he was willing to try. The sound of Greg's voice, the feeling of his hands and arms, the heat radiating off his body, Jack was blissful.

For anyone who found bliss on his hands and knees being treated like this.

"Tell me what you want," House rasped against Jack's neck. "Tell me what you need."

"I'm yours," he struggled to say, turning his head to brush his lips against Greg. "Tell me. Tell me how much."

"You're mine," House whispered against his lips, and then he slowed his movements a little, reaching around to wrap his fingers around Jack's cock. "And I want you more than you know."

"Then have me," he groaned. "Fuck me. Come inside me, Greg. Fuck me, please."

House slowly pulled out the dildo, and then turned his head to kiss Jack. "Lay on your back and close your eyes."

Jack groaned at the loss, but he obeyed again automatically. Greg could have told him to do anything, and he'd have done it.

He could feel the toll the toy had taken on him. He was stretched and open, loose and waiting as he closed his eyes for Greg.

"Please," he whispered one more time.

House climbed off of the bed so that he could take off his jeans. And as he did, he almost soundlessly slipped his hand into his pocket, snuck two Vicodin out of the bottle, and swallowed them, before kicking the jeans over to the corner of the room.

"Are you sure you want me," he teased, climbing back up next to Jack. "The dildo was bigger."

"Yes," he hissed, eyes still closed. " I want you. On me. In me. All over me. I want you a hundred ways, and then a thousand more. Greg, I'm begging you, baby, please," he said, remarkably keeping his hands to himself.

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