Let me tell you a secret. - Pied Piper (fic)

22.46 pm - Pied Piper (fic)

Title: Pied Piper
Pairing: H/W
Rating: NC-17
Word Count: 3070
Warnings/ spoilers: Vague spoiler for s4 in general. No warnings as far as I'm aware... Unless you need to be warned for mansecks in an NC-17 fic.
Disclaimer: I've asked Santa Claus for the boys. So far, he's totally dropped the ball.
Summary: Wilson walks in on House having eargasms. It progresses from there.
A/N: Beta'd by nemesishamartia, who has some very specific ideas about commas. I'm still grumbling about that. Any mistakes are his fault, because I can't handle taking any blame. And also because he's gorgeous and high and true and fine and fluffy and moist and sticky and lovely.
Also, if you want to hear the song House is listening to, you can download it here
ETA: There's now a sequel to this fic, and it's here.



House was on the bed when Wilson finally found him. The room was a little too warm for Wilson’s tastes, but House was in his underwear, on top of the covers. He was also sprawled out, flat on his back, eyes closed, and had a pair of very expensive headphones on. Wilson could hear, if he strained, a very vague almost-buzz of music swirling from the headphones.

House was braced, as if at any moment he expected to be crushed by something very heavy falling onto him at high speed. He wasn’t curled up; it was almost like he was inviting the impact. His muscles were clenched so tightly that, every few seconds, a tremor ran through his arms and legs. His breath was ragged, harsh, his chest seeming to cave in on itself between breaths. Whatever was happening to him seemed to get more intense by the second, until all at once his fingers clenched and his toes curled, grasping the air, his chest and abdomen became rigid, his neck arched, and his eyes flew open, darting around the room wide and unfocused.

Wilson groaned just as House did. Whatever had just happened looked, well, almost identical to an orgasm. Apart from the obvious lack of either an erection or ejaculation.

House’s eyelids fluttered for a moment and he collapsed back against the bed, completely limp, only to start the whole thing over again. Slower, this time. It started in his right shoulder; just a light tremor, before moving down his arm and into his hand. Then the other arm. His stomach rose and fell with his quick and shallow breaths, occasionally tensing. Every few seconds his lower back would arch out and he’d press his shoulder blades into the mattress.

And then his breaths became even more rapid; tiny puffs of air passing through his lips harshly, making him bounce up and down with the force.

Wilson was paralysed by the sight, unable to think, move, or react in any capacity that wasn’t purely instinctive. Had he been able to think clearly, he probably would have wondered whether House needed medical attention. House loved music as much as, if not more than, most people, but Wilson had never seen any reaction like this before. In House or anyone else.

The next few minutes were more akin to what Wilson was used to: House completely relaxed for the most part, eyes lightly closed with their brows raised. The occasional flutter would pass over the lids, and once in awhile an erratic twitch would roll over House’s body. His breathing was slow and even. But it didn’t last long.

House began systematically tensing again, mouth wide open, gasping for breath, jaw sliding forward and back, and his entire body twitched. And then, his chest shot upward a few inches and the back of his hand flew up to rest against his forehead, like when a woman swoons in a movie. The tinny sounds coming from the headphones grew louder and swirlier, and just as Wilson heard a soprano hit an irresponsibly high note to resolve the chord, House whined– a pained, animalistic cry, eyes flying open again. His entire body appeared to jump a few inches in the air before landing, arched and just as taut as before. He sucked in several huge, rattling breaths, staring in wonder at the ceiling. He didn’t calm down as readily as before, and his chest continued jumping every couple of seconds, for several moments. Finally, his eyes slid closed again and his breathing slowed to a relaxed pace.

Only one more episode of House’s eyes and mouth gaping open followed before a final rest. He relaxed fully onto the bed for a long moment before sitting up cheerfully and reaching for his portable CD player, which was lodged under a pillow.

‘I have just experienced multiple ear-gasms,’ he said brightly, extracting the disc and tossing it to Wilson. ‘Track ten. Don’t listen while driving.’

Wilson gaped, barely managing to catch the disc.

‘And I need to re-hire the Mormon. Anyone who went to the university whose singers managed to do that is indispensable.’

‘What?’

‘Brigham Young University Singers. Fucking phenomenal. Although I guess most of the credit has to go to the guy who composed the song, but... anyway. How long have you been here? I think I vaguely noticed you during ear-gasm number two.’

‘Uh... s-since close to the beginning, I think.’

House looked him up and down. ‘You seriously stood there watching me listen to music for fifteen minutes?’

‘I gue--’

‘Must’ve been quite a show. You’re still hard, by the way.’

Wilson blinked, looking down at himself stupidly.

‘Nothing like what I was listening to, though,’ House said idly, picking at a speck on his knee. ‘Should come with a warning. “Do not drive or operate heavy machinery while listening to this CD. Do not listen if you have a heart condition,” blah blah blah.’

‘That good?’

‘I wasn’t flailing around for your amusement, as much as your prick might like to think that I was. That was an involuntary physiological response. Which is why I said--’

‘Yeah, yeah, don’t listen while driving. Can you, maybe, put some pants on or something?’ Wilson rubbed at the back of his neck, frowning.

‘I was thinking, actually, that I’d like to strip you down to your underwear and let you listen to that while I watched. Just, you know, for comparison purposes.’

‘What? No!’

House furrowed his brows. ‘Where exactly is your objection here? You can’t really say you won’t let me watch you, because you just perved over me for fifteen minutes. And unless you have a heart condition, I know you’ve got to be curious about the song. I suppose I could plug the speakers in. We could have sex to it.’

‘What?’ Wilson blurted. ‘Y-y-y-you can’t be--’

‘Serious? Well, hey, you’re not the only one sporting wood, but you did start it.’

House limped over to Wilson and grabbed the CD, setting it down on his dresser. ‘You’re getting fingerprints all over it,’ he muttered, leaning in dangerously close to Wilson to whisper in his ear. ‘I wasn’t hard until I noticed you were. Not even close to physically aroused until you admitted you’d been just staring at me for fifteen minutes. Come on, Jimmy,’ he rasped, taking Wilson’s earlobe between his teeth. He ran his tongue over it lightly. ‘Let’s play.’

Wilson allowed himself to be pulled toward the bed, allowed House to calmly remove his shirt and bite down on him, halfway between his neck and shoulder. As House’s arms made their way around his back, Wilson’s own followed suit, tracing over solid planes of muscles and, involuntarily, pulling House’s waist firmly against his own. House let out a harsh puff of warm breath against Wilson’s chest, and ran a hand up his neck, stopping to cradle his head gently. He slid his lips slowly across Wilson’s jaw, halting the motion once he found Wilson’s mouth. They stood, breathing each other’s air for a moment before turning it into a real kiss, tongues cautiously slipping out to run over lips and teeth.

House took a small step back, only to undo Wilson’s fly. He made quick work of it, and with one light shove, Wilson’s trousers hit the floor with a dull thud. Wilson stepped out of his shoes and kicked his pants off, then pushed House onto the bed.

‘Was the song really that good?’ Wilson asked, bending to press his hands into the bed next to House’s shoulders.

‘I’m pretty sure it would be impossible for anyone to write anything better. If I believed in God, I’d say that music came straight out of his head. We could still put it on...’

Wilson considered this. ‘Next time. I don’t want any distractions right now,’ he decided, kneeling over House’s waist. He ducked his head down for another quick kiss and groaned as House threaded his tightly clenched fingers through his hair. House buried his nose in the smooth locks and inhaled deeply, shuddering a little on the exhale.

‘You should grow this out a little,’ House commented idly, twisting a few hairs between his fingers.

‘Mmm. And you should stop talking.’

‘If you want me to shut up, then you should hurry up and fuck me.’

Wilson whined, very nearly losing his balance. ‘Y-you want me to, uh...’

‘Well look, Wilson. Making out is fun and all, but... state we’re in, I don’t think it’ll be enough. If you don’t want to, I can just go jerk off.’

‘No! Uh... I just, uh, didn’t think you were into that.’

‘I didn’t forget you had a penis, Jimmy. How could I? It’s trying to burrow its way into my thigh.’ House wiggled a hand down Wilson’s body and patted his penis lovingly.

‘No, I meant... Nevermind. Where’s the lube?’

‘There we go. There’s that take-charge attitude that turns me on so much. Bottom drawer of the dresser.’

‘The one you warn me against opening every time I stay here?’

‘That’d be the one. Key’s taped to the bottom of the nightstand.’

Wilson gave House a puzzled look as he reluctantly climbed off the bed. He felt around for the key and, upon finding it, headed for the dresser and clicked open the makeshift lock. He opened the drawer and raised an eyebrow as he peered inside.

‘Do you have a preference?’ he asked slowly, pawing through the contents of the drawer. There were at least six kinds of lube. Not only that, but also littering the drawer was a variety of cock rings in different sizes, shapes, and materials (silicone, leather, metal– some adjustable, even some that vibrated), as well as a wide selection of condoms (finger condoms, even) and a dildo in every shape, colour, material, and degree of realism Wilson could imagine. ‘Did you... inherit the contents of a sex toy store or something?’

House chuckled. ‘Nope. I’m no blushing virgin, Jimmy. And you know how I like to experiment...’

‘So you collected a drawer full of sex toys.’

‘Yip. Anyway, I think the Liquid Silk is my favourite. It’s the one with a pump.’

Wilson found the bottle and grabbed a few condoms (just in case), shucked his underwear, then rejoined House on the bed. House pulled off his own boxer-briefs and flung them across the room.

‘So, uh... How do you want to do this?’ Wilson asked, sitting cross-legged next to House, who rolled his eyes and knocked the lube and condoms out of Wilson’s hands.

‘You’re thinking way too hard about this. Just... do what feels right. Like this.’ He pulled Wilson fully on top of him, so that Wilson’s legs were between his own, and ran his lips over every bit of skin within reach. One hand made its way back into Wilson’s hair, the other trailed down Wilson’s back to his ass. Wilson flinched, pressing his hips hard into House’s. House groaned. ‘Yeah,’ he muttered as Wilson continued rutting against him, his glutes flexing.

House reached around the bed blindly, finding a condom. He reached both hands across Wilson’s back to open the wrapper, then found one of Wilson’s hands and unrolled the condom over three of his fingers. He shoved Wilson up into a kneeling position and found the lube, pumping a dollop onto the condom. He spread his legs wide, grinning. ‘All yours. Enjoy.’

‘Ooh! I can keep it?’

‘Depends on your performance.’

Wilson rolled his eyes and ran his condomed fingers teasingly over House’s anus, causing House to shiver, and then leaned down and blew a hot stream of air against his cock from base to tip. He wrapped his lips around the tip of House’s dick, forming a tight seal, and exhaled again gently, forcing a small puff of air under the foreskin. House hissed, shoving his pelvis upward and almost choking Wilson, who let out a strangled sound and sat up.
‘S’what you get for teasing,’ he muttered, but his voice had an apologetic tone. ‘Do that again.’

Shaking his head, Wilson bent down and wrapped his lips around House’s dick again. He ran his tongue under House’s foreskin this time, simultaneously pressing one finger into House. It went in easily and he almost immediately added a second, impatient. He thrust and scissored his fingers, and hooked them against House’s prostate every few strokes.

House helped the process along by finding another condom and rolling it onto Wilson’s penis when it came within reach, then slathering it liberally with lube. Wilson repositioned his body over House’s and made an almost seamless transition between finger-fucking and actual fucking. The used rubber made its way onto the floor and Wilson braced himself above House.

‘Oh,’ House muttered, wrapping one of his legs around one of Wilson’s. ‘This is much better.’

‘Than one of those toys?’ Wilson asked.

‘Mmm. A lot easier on my wrist, too.’

‘I never, uh, figured you for a bottom,’ Wilson admitted, flinging his head to the side to get his hair out of his eyes.

‘The whole bisexual thing, though...?’

‘Was pretty obvious.’

House gave him a slightly surprised look. ‘You’re more perceptive than I realised. And I’m... not strictly a bottom.’

Wilson groaned and swore under his breath. ‘Good... good to know.’

House hummed and pulled Wilson closer, so he could mouth along his shoulder. He stopped to suckle the base of Wilson’s neck, and Wilson collapsed onto him entirely, pressing his forehead against House’s shoulder for leverage.

‘Getting tired, old man?’ House asked, raking his fingers through Wilson’s hair again.

‘No, you just turned my joints to water, is all,’ Wilson panted into House’s armpit.

House, having determined Wilson liked a somewhat lighter touch, traced the back of his finger over the crease between Wilson’s butt and thigh. His nail barely glanced across the soft skin and Wilson jerked forward, almost ramming House’s skull into the headboard.

‘Fuck,’ Wilson breathed, and House dug the tips of his fingers into the back of Wilson’s head, meanwhile trailing his fingers up Wilson’s butt using the same soft touch as before. Wilson’s skin practically crawled at this, glutes squeezing together hard as he threw his head back. House continued the onslaught of featherlight touches and Wilson writhed over him. His rhythm was almost completely lost but the unexpectedness of his jerky movements was doing fucking awesome things to House’s prostate.

House almost burst out laughing as the words ‘dance, my puppet’ trailed through his head. Wilson did look almost like he was dancing (or seizing), and not only did it feel weirdly fantastic, but watching his muscles twitch and flex was a huge turnon to House. He just wished he could see it from more than one angle. Maybe he could talk Wilson into fucking him in a house of mirrors. His dick twitched hard at that thought, so he clutched Wilson more firmly so he could get back to a more steady rhythm.

With renewed vigour, Wilson braced himself back up on his hands and re-initiated his thrusting. He ducked his head and House met him halfway for an enthusiastic, if sloppy kiss. He nipped softly at Wilson’s lip and blindly reached around for the lube. He pumped a dollop onto his finger and twisted himself into a position that allowed him to reach Wilson’s ass. His arm wasn’t quite long enough to allow for penetration, but he found stimulation was possible. He brushed his finger up Wilson’s crack and Wilson jerked, whining. House moved his finger in a tight circle, probing lightly, and, craning a little more, he managed to get just the very tip of his finger inside Wilson.

‘I wish we could both fuck each other at the same time,’ he rasped.

Wilson gasped and his movements stuttered as he came so suddenly he shocked himself.

‘Jesus,’ he muttered, sitting back on his knees as much as possible while still remaining buried inside House.

After a quick application of some more lube, Wilson gripped House’s dick and began stroking hard and fast. House looked down and groaned at the sight: Wilson’s hips pressed flush against his ass, hand on his dick. He trailed his eyes upward and caught Wilson’s glance through a sweaty curtain of soft hair. His breath caught at the intensity of Wilson’s stare, and after another few seconds, ribbons of semen were dripping from Wilson’s bangs.

‘Shit, sorry,’ he panted, collapsing back against the bed.

Wilson just laughed, extracting himself and tossing the condom aside. He crawled up the bed and flopped down next to House, resting his head on House’s heaving chest.

‘So. How did that compare to your song?’

‘You can put it on tomorrow and see for yourself,’ House muttered, burying his nose in Wilson’s hair and, after a moment’s hesitation, applying a kiss to the top of his head.

‘Switching positions?’

‘Yep. We’ll have to experiment. Maybe figure out a way for us to both fuck each other at the same time.’

‘You’ve got enough toys that it ought to be possible.’

‘Mmm. You’ve only seen my drawer of insertables. I’m sure once you’ve seen my drawer of surroundables you’ll be inspired.’

‘Surroundables?’

‘Mhm. Fleshlight, all that kind of stuff. Put this way... my imaginary friend Jimmy and I can fuck each other at the same time. So I’m pretty sure my real friend Jimmy and I should be able to, too.’

‘You think about me? When you’re...’

‘When I’m... what? Eating? Sleeping? Playing piano? Masturbating?’

Wilson shrugged, his hair tickling House’s nose.

‘E,’ House said.

‘Hmm?’

‘E. All of the above.’

‘Any time you don’t think about me?’

House shrugged. ‘When you’re here. I don’t have to think about you when I’m with you. I can just... experience you.’

‘I think that’s the single most romantic thing you’ve ever uttered.’

‘I meant... I can’t think about anything when I’m experiencing your cock up my ass.’

‘Much better. I think.’

There were a few minutes of silence during which semen cooled and coagulated, sweat dried, and heart rates returned to normal.

‘Hey,’ House said. ‘Forgot to ask why you dropped by.’

‘Shit. I was, uh... I came by to warn you that Cameron was going to drop by to pick up some case notes.’

They both burst into laughter as they heard footsteps rapidly making their way down the hall and out of the apartment.