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  The Ties That Bind 
 by Topaz Eyes	

 A/N: Thanks to bironic, secondsilk and housepiglet for concrit!

~~~~~

"Too tight?"

House loomed over Wilson, who was lying on the bed. Wilson looked up at
House, his brow furrowing with mild chagrin as he pulled on the restraints
that bound his wrists and ankles. "No, they're--quite comfortable,
actually," he replied. "Considering that you've tied me up in my own
ties."

House only smirked. "Correction. Your old ties. None of which you'll ever
wear anymore. May as well put them to good use." He fingered a slip of
fabric in his hands. "I'm doing Goodwill and all the homeless bums of
Princeton a favor, by not forcing your hideous fashion sense on them."

Wilson rolled his eyes. "So what's your nefarious plan this time?"

House grinned, baring his teeth. "Good things come to those who wait."

Wilson shivered under that predatory look, nervously licking his lips. He
forcibly reminded himself that he went along with House's sex games only
out of curiosity--House was nothing if not inventive. That thought was so
blinding hot that Wilson bucked with a pulse of desire. Truth be told,
enlightened self-interest had everything to do with it: House might be a
bastard, but he knew just how to make Wilson beg for release. The orgasm
at the end was guaranteed to be mind-blowing, no matter what.

House reached over Wilson's body and took another tie , holding it up to
the light to examine it. It was pure charmeuse silk, of muted peach and
pink checks, with sparkling blue threads throughout; one which House
derisively referred to as "Miami Vice chic". It had been a gift from
Wilson's first set of ex-in-laws.

House knelt between Wilson's thighs, hissing a bit as he put weight on his
bad leg. Grimacing, he shifted slightly to offset the pressure. 

Wilson grew instantly concerned. "Do you need--?"

"Shut up," House cut him off. "I'm fine."

Wilson watched House relax as the spasm receded. House was naked too, his
pale skin looking almost burnished in the warm yellow light from the
bedside lamp. To Wilson's delight, he was just as aroused; his cock jutted
straight out from its nest of pubic hair, just about in line with Wilson's
mouth. It was Wilson's turn to lick his lips in anticipation at the sight
of House's dick, already glistening with a small drop of pre-come at the
tip. He fixed his gaze on it, humming as he imagined House straddled above
him, musk flooding his nostrils, that swollen slick flesh sliding in and
out between his lips--

"Earth to Jimmy."

Startled out of his reverie, Wilson blinked, his eyes re-focusing.
"Wha--?"

House was looking at him, another amused smirk threatening to break on his
lips. He leaned over, lowering himself on top of Wilson. "Shoot your load
too soon and it's game over," he murmured, his breath hot and humid in his
ear. "You definitely don't want that." Then he shifted, capturing his lips
in a brief, teasing kiss. Wilson shivered with the loss of heat when House
drew back. 

"Here we go then," House said cheerily, waving the tie in his hand. Wilson
waited, trembling with anticipation, thinking how they'd ended up here.

~~~~~

It had started a few weeks ago when, on a Saturday in late February, House
caught Wilson in the bedroom while he was sorting out his ties.

Moving back into House's apartment meant consolidation of limited closet
space. Almost immediately, Wilson was subject to House's sly (and
not-so-sly) comparisons of Wilson's ties to other women's shoes.
Accordingly, Wilson was forced to admit to himself that maybe his wardrobe
of over one hundred ties was more than anyone really needed. Finally,
tired of hearing House's intimations, Wilson decided to winnow them out. 

That brutally cold afternoon, he stood at the closet in front of the tie
rack, in his weekend uniform of faded jeans, sweatshirt, and bare feet,
unrolling and studying each slip of wool and silk. He walked back and
forth from the closet to the bed several times, weighing each choice
before dropping them into one of two piles.

Wilson didn't know how long House stood watching from the doorway, but
after a while he forgot House was there. House observed Wilson from the
door of the bedroom, tracing Wilson's footsteps back and forth. While
Wilson sorted them into either "To Keep" or "Goodwill", House walked over
and sat down on the bed, leaning his chin on his cane, and watched him
weighing ties in each hand. At first, Wilson paid him no heed; but when
Wilson finally did look at him, House appeared thoughtful, and Wilson did
not miss the wicked gleam. He could almost hear the gears whirring in
House's head, and tensed, waiting for the inevitable strike.

After a few minutes in deep thought, House began to rummage eagerly
through the "Goodwill" pile, pulling out several, especially hideous,
ties. They both knew the history of those particular ones--House made sure
to choose those that they both hated for some reason or another.

Wilson tried to remain silent, but his curiosity eventually overcame him.
"Why do you, of all people, want to keep those?" he asked, his eyebrow
quirking.

House smirked innocently, and Wilson recoiled. Those "innocent smirks"
were nothing of the sort.

But, "Never know when they'll come in handy," was all he said. He pulled
out about a dozen of the most repulsive ones from the pile, then rose and
limped out of the room, whistling under his breath.

And House indeed said nothing more about it. The Goodwill ties were
bagged, and placed in the collection box, along with a few other items.
Wilson never saw where House stashed the ties; he decided he might not
want to know.

Over the next few weeks, House acted as if it had never happened. Although
occasionally, at work, towering over the heads of his lackeys during their
differential diagnoses; or at home, while eating dinner on the couch; or
just at odd times of the day; Wilson caught House studying him with a
piercing, almost measuring stare. Wilson had, by and large, over several
long years of association, learned to ignore it. And he slowly forgot the
incident.

Until this evening, when House turned to him while they sat on the sofa,
after Girls Gone Wild had ended.

"Ready to play tonight, Jimmy?"

He leered at Wilson, and Wilson's pulse quickened as House's suddenly
rapacious gaze swept over him from head to toe. That hooded glare felt
like living fire, almost incinerating the clothes from his body--he felt
his dick harden almost instantly in his pants, his skin breaking out in a
thin sheen of sweat as he flushed a deep red. "I--ah, I--"

House nodded in approval and licked his lips in a totally obscene gesture.
"I take your sudden physical arousal as a yes then." House's own crotch
was noticeably tented. 

"What--what did you have in mind?" Wilson stammered.

House grinned widely. "Remember those ties?"

~~~~~

It was obvious that House had already planned this out. Wilson watched
with increasing interest as he wrapped the thin end of the tie around his
hand, leaving about half of it free. "Welcome to the wonderful world of
silk," House said huskily. Then he reached down, stroking along the top of
Wilson's shoulders with the wide end of the tie.

Wilson's eyes widened at the feather-light caress. Now it struck him that
House had rescued only the silk ties from the Goodwill collection. "Is--is
there something about your--ah, proclivities--that we need to discuss?" he
said; bemused at how breathless it sounded.

House only smirked, brushing his fingers, and tie, deftly down the soft
skin of his inner arm. "I botched the raid on Cuddy's underwear drawer,"
he said lightly. "My bad. Her black thongs would have been perfect for
this."

House's hard cock bobbed against his own, sending a blue jolt through his
body; and Wilson thrust up, seeking more contact. He groaned in
frustration when House leaned back and out of his reach.

"I--don't think she'd appreciate us using her silk panties like this,"
Wilson stammered.

"You think she'd want to join in?" 

"Only if it were you tied to the bed," Wilson replied.

The smoothness of the weave felt like the fabric equivalent of a warm hand
brushing over him. Wilson hissed in pleasure, his dick already so hard it
was painful.

"This is sick, you know," Wilson said, panting. "You're the one with the
tie fetish."

"I'm not the one who owns literally dozens of them."

"I'm not the person who's about to masturbate his best friend with one."
His heart pounded at the thought.

House's breathing matched his own. In the dim light, those
always-mesmerizing eyes, normally blue as ice, were storm-gray with
desire. "That is true," he conceded, his voice harsh with arousal, "but
obviously part of you doesn't mind." He brushed the silk briefly across
the tip of Wilson's already straining dick. "Think of this when you tie
your noose around your neck tomorrow morning."

Wilson gasped and bucked into the touch. "Oh, God," he gasped, seeing
stars.

"You called?" House said. He leaned back over and smoothed his hand over
Wilson's chest, lightly rubbing his nipples, cajoling them into erect
buds.

"Oh fuck," Wilson moaned, jumping at the faint friction across sensitive
skin. He pulled against his wrist restraints and his hips rocked up
involuntarily. "I hate you."

Wilson strained and arched, trying to get House to touch him. House pulled
back with a wicked look.

"Uh uh, Jimmy. Patience is a virtue." He slowly, slowly ran his hands and
the tie down his body, over his chest and down his sides in a deliberate
caress, speaking softly all the while.

"Did you know that silk--" he smoothed it over Wilson's trembling
stomach,"--has a triangular prism structure that gives it--" he let it
glide over his hipbone, "--its lustre? It's the strongest natural fibre
known to man."

House scrunched Wilson's pubic hair through his fingers. "It's so strong
that it once was used as body armor, because it lessened the impact of
arrows piercing the skin." He poked Wilson lightly in the navel, and
Wilson inhaled sharply.

"Yet it's slippery enough, and wicks enough moisture away from the skin,
to make it the desired choice for undergarments." 

"Only you--" Wilson gasped as House's fingers slid along the exquisitely
sensitive skin of his inner thigh, "would give a goddamned lecture--" 

He hissed as the silk deftly brushed against his scrotum. "--About silk
and its uses--Oh fuck!" he breathed as the silk ghosted under his balls,
along the super-sensitive skin there, "during sex."

He felt warm, soft fingers gently cupping his balls. "I like to
multi-task, what can I say? Talk about silky smooth," House murmured with
amusement, and Wilson felt his eyes rolling back in both irony and
pleasure.

"Will you just get to the--GAH!" Wilson arched when House took the tie and
wrapped the wide end around his penis.

"Almost there," House assured, slowly bending down to blow a puff of humid
air across the tip. "God, you are just too eager, Jimmy. Good thing your
hands are already occupied, or you'd be grabbing my head and forcing your
swollen cock in my mouth--"

He began to stroke Wilson's cock up and down lazily, alternating fabric
with skin. At that Wilson's breath whistled through his teeth and he
squirmed, rocking into House's fist. "For fuck's sake, House!" he pleaded
through gritted teeth, his head thrashing side to side in frustration.
"Finish me off!"

"Now where are your manners, Jimmy? I'm shocked that common courtesy is
eluding you right now. We are civilized beings." Despite his light words,
House's voice was rough with the effort to suppress his own lust. "Ask
nicely."

Wilson writhed and whimpered shamelessly, bathed in a sheen of sweat,
feeling the burning flush covering his face, neck and chest, the white-hot
ball of need condensing at the base of his spine. "Please," he begged,
thrusting up. "Oh God, House, pleasepleaseplease--"

"That's better."

House finally, finally encircled the head of his dick with his lips, and
Wilson keened with the wet heat enveloping him. Arching his head back, his
whole body straining with the need for release, he pumped his hips as
House gripped his buttocks. And, with what seemed like only a few flicks
of House's tongue, he was coming hard and fast, shooting into his mouth as
the brilliance consumed him.

Wilson was only barely aware that House wasn't swallowing at all; just
letting the semen flow down his shaft, onto the tie. He shook in the
aftermath, feeling himself melt, boneless, into the mattress, his eyes
fluttering closed with sated contentment. 

Until he felt a shift on the bed and heard House's ragged breathing. He
opened his eyes. 

House was kneeling on the mattress in between his legs, as he stroked his
dick. Wilson saw a brief flash of pale pinkish fabric in his fist, and his
heartbeat quickened again as he realized House was jerking off into the
tie.

Wilson watched, enthralled, as House tugged, using the spunk on the tie as
lubricant; watched that well-muscled arm pulling on his dick frantically.
Wilson's breath caught as House pressed down on his good thigh with the
flat of his hand, clutching his leg rhythmically, bearing down as his hips
rocked back and forth, thrusting into his hand. His abdominal muscles
rippled and his chest heaved with exertion; his face contorting in utter
focus, eyes squeezed shut and teeth clenched in need. Sweat plastered his
hair onto his forehead, trickling in a glistening trail down his neck and
chest. 

In the warm, dim lamplight, House damn near glowed, and Wilson's heart
leapt into his throat to watch House bring himself off. This was what
Wilson lived for in these moments, the endgame; House coming undone in
front of him, because of him, and damned if he wasn't going to help pull
House over the brink to join him.

Wilson desperately tried to break his hands free, wanting, needing to
touch him so much it hurt deep in his chest; but frustrated, he pulled at
his restraints with no effect. He spoke instead, low encouraging words,
whispering each syllable like a verbal caress. 

"Come for me, House," he murmured.

A nameless thrill flooded his whole body when House inhaled sharply at the
sound of his name. His hand shifted to clutch Wilson's thigh, gripping
hard enough to leave bruises. Wilson flinched, but persevered; it was
worth the discomfort. Wilson watched House stroke himself even harder, the
head of his cock purpling with need in his fist. Wilson's voice lowered to
a rasping growl. "God, to see you like this--so fucking close, you want to
come so bad you can taste it--"

House whispered a formless curse, barely heard above the frantic sounds of
his hand, and Wilson continued, deep and urgent. "I need you to come.
Shoot your load for me, on me--"

At that House raised his head; their eyes met, gazes locking, and House
stilled, suspended, his mouth open in a silent 'o'. 

"Now, House," Wilson intoned. And an endless instant later, the first gasp
of orgasm tore from House's mouth. 

Wilson arched up as the first spurt of House's semen shot onto his
stomach. "Yes," he hissed in triumph. The second dripped onto his pubic
hair, and the remaining soaked into the tie, the same tie that had caught
Wilson's. Still spent as he was, he bucked his hips in time with House's,
groaning with him, drawing this pleasure out as much as he could.

The shudders and gasps subsided, until House slumped in on himself with
release, panting heavily, still clutching Wilson's thigh. He slowly,
slowly removed his hand from his cock, rubbing the tie lightly between his
fingers. He brought the used tie up to his nose and sniffed it, then
kissed it. Wilson watched him rub the silk lightly over his lips.

"Oh, fuck, that's hot," Wilson whispered hoarsely.

House lowered the tie, his eyebrow raised in amusement. "Who has the tie
kink now?" he teased, his own voice deep with smug satisfaction. House
then slowly brought the tie down to hover over Wilson's face. 

Wilson closed his eyes and inhaled their mingled scents, the bitter-salt
of himself and House invading his nostrils. He pursed his lips to taste
the sticky-damp fabric. House then lifted the tie off and dropped it down
onto the floor beside the bed.

Still shaking, holding onto Wilson for balance, he reached over for
another tie, this one a horrid yellow paisley, and gently wiped up the
sticky fluid on Wilson's abdomen and dick.

"Well, two ties down," he said, sounding completely sated; until he rose
slightly, and his face contorted with pain. "Dammit."

"Untie me first," Wilson murmured.

House untied the knots binding his wrists, then collapsed, half-sprawling
on top of him. Wilson enveloped him in a loose embrace while House leaned
his forehead on his shoulder. This close, he heard House's heartbeat slow
along with his own.

After a few minutes, Wilson flexed his ankles. "Uh, House, you forgot
something--?"

"Not moving," House mumbled, his voice already distant and thick with
impending sleep.

Wilson pushed House the rest of the way off, heaved himself up, and untied
the restraints around his ankles. He leaned over to douse the lamp,
grabbed the sheet and blankets, and pulled them up over them both, lying
back down with a contented sigh. These sex games were probably going to
kill one or both of them, he thought, but what a hell of a way to go. Then
he wondered about something.

"Wait a minute. House? You've seen Cuddy's thongs?"

Only a light snore answered in reply.  
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Princeton-Plainsboro Teaching Hospital. Like the television show House
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