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  Humiliation 
 by Baked Goldfish  

 Tritter shoved House into the backseat, not caring that House landed hard
on his right thigh. "So your plan for dealing with bullies is to be a
bigger bully?" House asked.

Getting in the front seat, Tritter shrugged. "Thought we went over that in
your boss' office."

House, unable to rub his sore leg, slid to the side of the car and pressed
the muscle up against the armrest. Scowling, he muttered, "I'm slow."

Tritter eyed him in the rearview. "You're an ass."

House chuckled dryly. "Stop it, you're starting to sound like my mother."

"I'll bet." He leaned back. "Keep talking. It's gonna be a few before the
truck comes for your bike, there."

House slumped down and tried to get comfortable.

[-----]

By the time they got to the station, House was fidgeting in the backseat.
"You didn't happen to keep any of those happy little pills, did you?"

"Kept all of 'em," Tritter said.

"Think I could have one?"

"Why?"

"Pesky little thing known as nerve damage and missing muscle," House said,
leaning forward. "Perhaps you noticed the cane?"

Tritter barely smiled in the rearview. "Sorry," he said. "Evidence." He
got out and opened the back door, standing back.

House stared up at him for a moment before trying to scoot out with his
hands still cuffed behind his back. "Trying to teach me a lesson?"

"You've broken the law," Tritter said, "possibly multiple times."

"So let me call my lawyer," he said.

Tritter stepped back and let House stumble out of the car on his own
before yanking him up by the collar of his jacket and pulling him along.
"Eventually."

[-----]

The interrogation room was cold, and House had no idea what he was doing
there. 

The ink on his finger was annoying him, even though he couldn't see it,
and he couldn't get comfortable on the hard plastic seat. His leg was
beginning to throb, and he knew that, in a few minutes, he wouldn't be
able to hide his anxiety.

The door swung open quieter than he'd thought it wood. House swallowed
hard; he'd almost forgotten how big Tritter actually was, even -
especially - compared to him. He seemed to take up half the room when he
entered, and House shifted in his chair, nervous.

Tritter held up a small pill and smirked as he closed the door. "Waiting
for these?"

"I could use one," House said, trying not to sound too desperate. 

Sitting down at the edge of the table, just in front of House, he held the
pill out in front of him. "Open up."

Wary, House didn't take his eyes off Tritter as he opened his mouth. He
almost bit Tritter as he placed the vicodin on his tongue, but Tritter
pulled away too quickly.

"Wanna add assault to the list of charges?"

House tilted his head back and dry swallowed. Grudgingly, he said, "Thank
you."

Tritter crossed his arms and stared down at House. "Figure I need to see
how long it takes to wear off."

"And until then, you're gonna keep me handcuffed in an interrogation
room?" House scoffed. "I know I'm no cop, but I'm pretty sure there are
rules against that sort of thing."

"Not really." Tritter glanced at the one-way mirror behind him. "Told the
guys I could handle this alone."

"Did you tell them how I left a thermometer in your ass?" House pulled a
mocking, goofy face. "Boy, I bet they laughed and laughed. At you. Not
with you."

Faster than House thought possible, Tritter hefted him up out of the seat
by his shoulders and slammed him against the wall. "Don't worry," he said,
and House could still smell coffee on his breath. "Made sure I left that
part out. Didn't know if you wanted to tell 'em yourself."

Tritter's forearms were pressing hard into his chest, and House could feel
himself flushing. "Now, I know there are rules against this."

"No cameras," Tritter said, sliding one arm up until his forearm was
resting uncomfortably against House's throat. "And I know how to not leave
marks."

House stared at him. "Pupils dilated, flushed cheeks, heart rate and
breathing are both up," he mumbled. "And yet I don't see you starting to
beat me up."

"There are a thousand other ways to humiliate a man."

House scrambled against him, pushing ineffectually. Tritter pushed his
forearm even harder against House's throat, and put his whole weight into
shouldering him against the wall. House groped for some kind of grip on
the bare white wall behind him, but only found himself gasping as the
blood rushed to his head. "What-"

"Bullies like to dominate," Tritter said, almost matter-of-factly, even as
he fought to keep House against the wall. "Little experiment: what do we
do when someone tries to dominate us?"

"We-"

"That leg feeling better, buddy?"

House finally stopped struggling, and Tritter eased his forearm back just
enough for House to breathe. He knew he must have been radiating fear, and
he could feel the sweat trickling down his back. Tritter's knee was
shoving his legs apart. "Yes."

"Good." The hand that was pushing against House's chest slid down, and
then the only sound in the room was the leather-metal-denim scuff of
House's belt being undone. 

"What," House said, his voice shaky. "You're not gonna tell me I sure got
a pretty mouth?"

Tritter shoved against his throat to let him know who was still in charge.
"You can say no whenever."

House swallowed. "Would it do any good?"

Tritter smiled coldly. That hand slid down House's shorts, rubbing and
tugging with calloused, thick fingers so unlike House's own. The only
thing that kept his knees from giving was the incessant pressure of
Tritter's forearm against his neck, pushing just hard enough so that he
only barely got enough oxygen. He was dizzy, could hear the blood pumping
through his veins, could feel heat in every part of his body as Tritter
pushed closer, hard and straddling House's left leg. 

House's eyes closed, and Tritter leaned in. One large hand could wrap
halfway around House's neck, and so that's what he did, gripping him hard
enough to hold but not hard enough to bruise. He was grinding against
House's leg and sucking on his lower lip, and he could hear House
struggling against the cuffs, trying to find something to grab onto, to
subjugate, to control. He knew those cuffs had to be getting tighter,
biting into flesh as House tried to use his hands. 

"Turn around," he said, twisting House around with one hand as he reached
for his own belt. "Took your advice, by the way."

House was barely coherent as he said, "Advice?"

"Using lube." 

House heard the sound of the condom wrapper being torn open, the sound of
it being put on, and the sound of a cap being popped open. Moments later,
his jeans were around his ankles, his feet were being kicked apart, and
Tritter was wrapping an arm around his chest, pressing his cuffed hands
into the small of his back. "Lucky me."

Tritter started pushing slowly, slick but cautious. "Anytime you wanna say
no."

"It doesn't-" He grit his teeth and grimaced. The vicodin had dulled a
lot, but he could still feel himself being stretched beyond belief, with
Tritter hot and hard, moving deeper inside him. 

Tritter pushed his hand down House's shorts again, intent on keeping him
hard; he gripped House's chin with his other hand, forcing him to at least
halfway face him. House did the unexpected, and fuck if he wasn't sucking
on Tritter's fingers, mouthing and tonguing him as though that were the
only thing he'd ever been trained to do. 

House didn't even seem to know what he was doing as Tritter pushed his
fingers deeper into House's mouth; pulling back, tugging his lower lip,
only made House try and suck his fingers back in. Tritter tried to watch
with some kind of analytical detachment, but the way House was still
wrapping his mouth around Tritter's fingers even though it was obviously
making it hard for him to breath right just made Tritter lose it. He
rocked against House even harder, feeling teeth against wet skin when he
went too hard and hot little gasps when he did anything House liked. The
best, though, was when he felt both at the same time.

House was lost in the feeling of being pressed from all sides; eyes closed
of their own volition, every nerve singing both pain and bliss as he
struggled to keep himself from collapsing against Tritter, his body
feeling overheated and overworked, he knew he was about to come. But
Tritter pulled out suddenly, pushing House down to his knees even as he
tore the condom off. He dragged House back, then stood in front of him,
and tugged House's head forward. House didn't even need to be told once;
his own cock still achingly hard, he took Tritter's in his mouth, sucking
and licking his head until Tritter came. Ribbons of spit and come ran down
his chin as Tritter clenched House's hair, pushing so hard he almost
gagged him. 

When Tritter was done, he pushed House away violently, still panting and
flushed. "Calm down," he muttered, catching his breath as he put himself
away. "When you're ready, you'll get cleaned up, we'll get you to a cell,
and you'll get to call what I'm positive is a lawyer your hospital keeps
on retainer for scenarios just like this one."

House sat back on his haunches, uncomfortable and shaking with tension.
With his hands behind his back and nothing but cold cement floors and
walls all around him, he knew there wasn't much he could do about it. He
glared darkly down at the ground, feeling empty and cold, trying to find a
decent position while he tried to wipe the come off his face with his
shoulder. "Okay," he said, sullen and quiet.

Tritter picked up the used condom, wrapped it in the wrapper, and put it
in his pocket as he moved towards the door. He stopped suddenly and turned
back to House. "Just one more thing, Doctor. Don't think I'm anywhere near
done with you."

House turned his glower to Tritter. "You think this was humiliating?"

Tritter looked thoughtfully into the middle distance. "I think it was a
taste," he said. "A bully is always waiting for a bigger bully to come
around. This was me, letting you know that he's here." He smiled at House
and left.

With his useless hands behind him, House leaned against the wall, closed
his eyes, and tried to ignore the tension in his body.

-end-  
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