Summary: House is so much easier to deal with when he thinks you're a hallucination. HW slash.

OoOoO

"Wilson, I- what?"

When House had burst into Wilson's office, he had fully expected to find the other man sitting at his desk, working like he'd told him to just a few hours ago. He could also have accepted finding Wilson asleep on the couch, standing out on the balcony, or flipping idly through a medical journal. The last thing he'd expected to find, however, was a young woman, barely more than a girl, sitting at Wilson's desk surrounded by sheets of paper as she typed on a laptop computer.

"He's gone to get some food. Do you have an appointment?" she asked, without looking up from her screen.

"Uh… who're you?"

"My name's Hannah. I'm part of the data entry team that's helping with your server switchover."

The what? House frowned. As a department head he should have been notified, but then it could have been mentioned in any of the 15 unread memos that were languishing in his hospital e-mail address inbox. Not that it would actually have affected his actions in any way, shape or form.

"How long have you been here?"

"Just since this morning. I'll be here for three days."

House's frown deepened. That, he didn't like the sound of. Wilson's office was the closest he could come to a private place at work; the glass walls that made up his office looked pretty good, and gave him the audience he didn't usually mind having when he was able to chastise one of his team for being an idiot, but it did make him a little uncomfortable at times. And if this girl was going to be in Wilson's office for three days, it meant that he would not only get very little time to himself, he'd also get very little time to be alone with Wilson. And that, considering he'd just persuaded the other man to do his bidding until the next morning, was rather frustrating.

And the idea of Wilson spending that much time with an admittedly fairly attractive teenaged girl made him a little more uncomfortable than he would like.

"Do you…" he paused, taking a seat on the couch, "get on well with Doctor Wilson?"

"I guess so. I mean, he doesn't talk much-"

What?

"-and he's kind of… spacey. He barely even noticed I was here this morning, and then he went off somewhere-"

House smiled slightly. He knew Wilson had been worrying about him.

"-and he was obviously feeling better when he came back, but… is he usually so shy?"

What? Were they talking about the same person?

"Uh, shy?" House had to ask, feigning ignorance to cover his surprise. Shy? Wilson? He got on well with all people, whether he'd met them before or not. He'd go out of his way to make sure they were comfortable, and occasionally be a little too friendly for House's liking. But that was just him caring. Worrying that people wouldn't like him. But this girl… she didn't like him. She didn't dislike him, of course, but her feelings seemed pretty neutral. And House knew that, to Wilson, that was just as bad.

"Yeah, I mean… I'll ask him for help reading some of his reports and he'll stay as far away as possible. I handed him a coffee earlier and he almost dropped it because he was trying so hard not to let his hand touch mine. And, I mean, he's an attractive guy, and I thought he'd be a bit of a lech, if anything, but… it's like he's terrified of me."

House frowned thoughtfully. That was strange. Wilson, even if he wasn't trying to get them to marry him, enjoyed the company of females; could admire their form without having to make an attempt to get into their pants. That was just the way it usually turned out because he couldn't resist the chance to remind himself that he was just that charming.

"Are… you alright?" Hannah asked him, obviously thinking his thoughtful silence had gone on for too long.

"Yeah," House nodded, as he began to realise just what was happening, "Thanks for your help."

"Uh… you're welcome." Hannah looked confused. House couldn't blame her; he was pretty confused himself, but he knew, suddenly, exactly what it was that was wrong with Wilson. And that evening would be the perfect time to attempt to solve the problem. He smiled to himself, and left the room without a backwards glance at the girl who was still blinking at him, clearly unnerved. House didn't care though. She could think whatever the hell she wanted, and he knew for a fact that she wouldn't be able to talk to Wilson about what she'd said to him. By the sound of things she couldn't talk to him about anything at all.

Which, he found himself thinking, was exactly how he liked it.

OoOoO

"I've figured out what your problem is," House announced, almost in passing as Wilson left his office that evening, ready to go home –or to House's- with Hannah following, ignored, behind him, "And I have a solution."

"Well, I'll miss you at first, but I'm sure I'll get over it by the time I get to my car."

Hannah giggled, and Wilson glanced at her before turning to look expectantly at House, waiting for the gloating to really begin. It didn't. House just smiled at him. Wilson narrowed his eyes, searching for any sort of clue in that expression.

"Well, I'll see you later, Doctor Wilson," Hannah, obviously fed up with waiting, said as she left, shaking her head at the situation she found herself in. Wilson knew that House had seen him tense at the sound of her voice, and broke their eye contact, slightly embarrassed.

"She's your problem."

"What? We met this morning!"

"Okay, so not her specifically. Women. They're your problem."

"Freud would be thrilled."

House's expression sobered. Wilson was tensing emotionally as well, and that wasn't going to help either of them.

"Let's go home," he said, offering his arm for Wilson to take. He was unsurprised by the fact that Wilson didn't do so, instead falling into step beside him as they headed for the elevator, which was blessedly empty as they descended to the ground floor.

"What's she like?" House had to ask, more curious about Wilson's reaction to the question than his actual answer.

"Who?"

"Hannah."

"Who?" Wilson stared at him, obviously confused, and House blinked in surprise. That was very weird. He hadn't expected Wilson to take it quite that far.

"The girl who's… been in your office all day?"

"I- oh, her. Yeah, she's… alright. Didn't talk to her much."

"Obviously not."

House's eyes narrowed as Wilson avoided his eyes, instead staring evasively at the floor. Apparently things were more serious than he'd thought. He sighed, was about to, despite himself, reach out to touch the other man's shoulder because he just looked so lost, but the jolt as the lift reached their floor stopped him. Wilson started walking before House had even really processed what the opening of the doors meant.

Still, House didn't let it dampen his spirits. He knew Wilson well enough to tell that he was embarrassed and upset rather than angry. And he knew the best way to solve the problem.

OoOoO

"You want to do what?"

"Tie you up."

"And you thought I'd agree to this because…?"

"Because you agreed to do whatever I tell you."

"Because you came to the conclusion that I didn't trust you!"

"I…" House paused for a moment to look into Wilson's eyes, knowing that convincing him of the first point would be the hardest, "I was wrong."

Wilson looked as though he was about to faint from shock.

"You what?"

"I was wrong," House repeated it, and saw Wilson's expression soften as he realised just how difficult it must have been for him to say that, "You trust me. You know you shouldn't. But you do. You don't trust yourself."

Wilson didn't say anything, just looked at him curiously, and House knew for certain that he was right.

"That's why you wouldn't talk to Hannah. Because she… is an attractive woman. And you're scared you won't be able to resist her."

And after a moment, Wilson smiled sadly. And nodded his agreement.

"Where do you want me?" he asked.

House had thought long and hard about the answer to that question all afternoon, and those adjectives were swiftly becoming more and more appropriate.

"On the bed. I'm not an animal."

Wilson was shaking, nervous butterflies in his stomach, but he smiled slightly as House nodded towards the bedroom, following at a distance that allowed him to enjoy the view. He stopped by the side of the bed, though, unaware of exactly what was expected of him, and couldn't help but jump as House pressed himself up against his back, wrapping strong arms tightly around his waist, holding him close as he kissed his neck.

"You…" House began, as his hands strayed upwards to undo Wilson's tie, "are not going to do anything. Understand?"

Wilson nodded, unable to retain any semblance of coherency as he surrendered his will to the other man. He let his head fall back against House's shoulder, still managing to be careful and make it his left side even as House started on his shirt buttons. It was… strange to be in such a situation with House, although he knew it would have been infinitely stranger with anybody else. He allowed himself to submit so rarely and while it was making him feel uncomfortable because he couldn't return the favours House was bestowing on him, he had to admit that part of his brain was telling him it felt… nice.

House, finished with his buttons, took a step backward and pushed it from his shoulders. Wilson let it fall, unheeded, and bit his lip as House began to massage, adept hands traversing his back and shoulders with a practiced finesse. He made a soft sound of approval, could almost feel House smirking behind him, but had to clench his fists, nails digging into his palms with the effort it took not to move to repay House for his efforts.

"See, this is why I have to tie you up." House leaned closer for a moment, his frustratingly clothed chest barely even touching Wilson's back as he spoke quietly in his ear, fingers still playing around his collarbone. One hand reached up to tug softly on Wilson's hair, pulling his head back so House could see his expression.

"You alright?"

Wilson nodded dumbly, some part of his subconscious recognising what the question meant, and whimpered softly as House's warmth left him.

"On the bed," House commanded, giving Wilson a slight push in the right direction to get him going. And, dazedly, Wilson did as he was told, taking a moment to rearrange pillows before settling on his back, watching as House retrieved a black length of material that might have been a scarf and nodded in the direction of the headboard. Suddenly incredibly aware of the commitment he was making, Wilson felt himself beginning to tremble slightly and had to take a deep breath to steady himself as he raised his arms above his head and allowed House to secure them to the middle vertical rail. He shifted a little awkwardly, trying to find the best position for the sake of his blood circulation, before closing his eyes and trying to relax.

House's weight made one side of the bed dip, and Wilson opened his eyes again to find the other man watching him, unabashedly enjoying the view. As time began to pass, however, and he continued to find himself under such scrutiny, he looked away, unable to help the flush that crept uninvited onto his cheeks.

"Look at me."

Again, Wilson bit his lip, aware he couldn't disobey without breaking their agreement, and did as he was bid with some difficulty. Honestly, the intensity in House's eyes was scaring him and the smile on the other man's face made him wonder if he was being mocked despite himself.

"Now, what shall I do with you?" House sounded thoughtful as he leaned over to trace a line up the centre of Wilson's chest, and back down again. Wilson wasn't even sure if he was entirely aware that he was doing it as he continued to talk, obviously lost in images of his own creation, "You're all mine. All night. I could keep you hanging on, torturing you for hours until you beg me to give you what you want…"

Wilson shuddered at the sheer sexiness of that voice, feeling arousal beginning to pool in his groin as he arched his back slightly, beginnings of an erection finding no relief against the material of his pants.

"Somebody likes that idea," House let his hand drift downwards, brushing softly at the growing bulge and making Wilson whimper helplessly, bucking ever so slightly against the contact, "Do you like to beg, Wilson? Do you like the idea of somebody else having complete power over you? Over what you think…"

House stood, aware of Wilson's beautifully dark, half-lidded eyes on him as he did so. Unable to keep the smirk from his face, he began to unbutton his own shirt, adoring how, suddenly, Wilson found himself unable to break the eye contact he'd found so difficult just a few moments ago. God, he loved that feeling of power. The knowledge that he was the only one who could do that to such a gorgeous, perfect man. If he was honest, part of his erection was just from his pride in his own ability. Although, as he crawled with some difficulty across the bed to settle with his knees on either side of Wilson's hips, weight shifted as far left as was possible, the sight of Wilson, helpless beneath him was beginning to overtake it.

"What you feel…" he continued, smoothing his hands upwards over Wilson's chest, leaning forwards until, hands on the mattress either side of Wilson's head supporting his weight, he could finally claim the kiss he'd been denied since that morning.

Wilson tried desperately to follow his mouth upwards as he withdrew, and again House felt that thrill of power, smiling as he stayed just out of reach, eyes straying momentarily upwards to remind himself of the sight of Wilson's wrists bound to his headboard.

"What you do… or don't do, as the case may be," he knew his smugness was annoying, infuriating, but that just made it all the more glorious. And as Wilson, eyes pleading, looked up at him, wordlessly begging him to have mercy, he knew his plan was working. He leaned down again, but wasn't quite as obliging as the previous time, merely taking Wilson's bottom lip between his teeth and tugging playfully before letting it slip slowly, savouring his dominance because he knew that, soon enough, he wouldn't be able to contain himself.

"House…" Wilson whimpered softly, unable to take it any more, and the other man closed his eyes as the sound shot straight to his groin, "Will you please just kiss me?"

And House couldn't deny him that. He passionately, desperately did as he was asked, shifting his weight to allow him to support it on one arm as he tangled his fingers in the other man's hair, trying to keep him as close as possible because he didn't know how else to express what he was feeling. What he had always felt.

"I love you," he said quietly as their mouths untangled for a moment, met Wilson's eyes to find them searching his for sincerity.

"I love you."

The response came, and House found himself smiling suddenly for a whole different reason.

"You won't, by the end of this," he warned, with a final kiss before he began to trail downwards. Already, Wilson was responding, arching his back, making soft sounds that didn't seem to need to distinguish between objection and encouragement as House kissed the line he'd traced with his fingers earlier, down the centre of Wilson's chest, and back again.

"What are you doing?" Wilson half-groaned as House moved back upwards to lavish attention on his neck, licking, sucking, biting in all the right places.

"Me?" House feigned innocence, moved once more to look Wilson in the eye, "Just… making sure you won't be able to think about anyone else ever again."

Wilson laughed, a beautiful sound that made House's chest ache. He was appreciated. He was… doing the right thing, for once in his life. And it felt fantastic.

"Well…" Wilson began, managing something close to his normal voice in the momentary pause on House's part. As he opened his mouth to continue speaking, however, House couldn't resist raising a hand to pinch his nipple, hard, and he let out a completely uninhibited whimper of pain before he could stop himself. He glared, opened his mouth once more to berate the other man, but could do nothing but groan as House twisted sharply, before lowering his mouth to the reddened skin and sucking gently, lapping wetly to soothe it.

"I think it's working," Wilson breathed, struggling against his bonds as the urge to tangle his fingers in House's hair, pull sharply and repay him for what he'd done made itself known. After a moment, though, he found himself unable to do anything but let his head fall back, helplessly, and try to keep from sounding like a porn star.

House knew, though; always knew exactly what he wanted although he wasn't always willing to give it. Again, he kissed a trail downwards, shifting backwards, down the bed, kissing and delving his tongue into Wilson's navel as he began to work at his belt. Wilson's breath caught in his throat at the new, unfamiliar sensation and the instinctive lifting of his hips, desperately seeking more contact, helped House work his pants down, distracting him all the while. Wilson, so lost in his frustration at his own inability to contribute, didn't even really register it until a hot, damp hand grasped his cock so much more tightly than he was used to, and his hips attempted to push upwards, involuntarily, until they met with the resistance House's other hand was providing.

Again, that helpless whimper escaped his throat, and House, obviously pleased with the reaction he was getting, began to stroke him. He was so close, so fucking close to coming in his best friend's hand, releasing all over his stomach while he was tied to a familiar bed that he'd believed for so long was unreachable. But then, House's hand slowed, before leaving him entirely.

"Oh, God, don't torture me," he'd said before even really thinking. He heard House laugh, felt him moving off the bed and looked in the direction he thought he'd gone. House was standing, his body not the only thing upright, by the side of his bed, removing his own pants with definite impatience. Wilson's eyes lingered only for a second on the scar before focusing on what he considered to be a much more important detail at that particular point in time.

"See what you do to me?" House asked him, sadly. Too sadly. Wilson nodded, because of course he saw. His heart was aching as he struggled against his bonds, desperately wanting to hold the other man, to comfort him, but House ignored his silent request, instead returning to sit astride his stomach, apparently completely unbothered by his nakedness.

"Watch me," House whispered, his eyes never leaving Wilson's as he took himself in hand and began to pump. Wilson couldn't have done anything else if he'd tried; he stared, open mouthed as House leaned forwards, supporting himself with a hand braced on the headboard, pupils dilated and breathing heavy as he pushed himself towards completion. Wilson arched his back, more aroused than he could ever remember being, wanted desperately to touch, to hold House as he came with a soft murmur of Wilson's name over the other man's chest.

House took a moment to recover, head hanging as he caught his breath, but took mercy on Wilson, since it wasn't exactly fair to leave only him hanging on. Again, he moved downwards, glancing upwards to take in the view of a tousled, flushed Wilson that was all his own doing before he wrapped his hand around his cock and lowered his mouth to suck softly on the head.

Wilson groaned, a deep, rumbling sound that made House's arousal spike until his exhausted body rejected the suggestion of another round. And, after a few hard, fast strokes, he came just as hard and fast into House's mouth. The very thought coaxed a final weak spurt from him, and as House sat up, made sure he was paying attention and swallowed deliberately, lips shining with moisture, he groaned again, unable to express himself in words.

House licked his lips, slowly and completely on purpose as he moved upwards once more to undo Wilson's bindings. The moment he was free, successfully ignoring his need to stretch muscles that were beginning to cramp, Wilson reached up with both hands and pulled House down into a passionate kiss.

"I love you," he said breathlessly, against the other man's mouth, "I love you so much."

He found his voice cracking on the final word, felt House smile and raise a hand to stroke his cheek with the backs of his fingers.

Maybe House's ideas weren't always that bad.

OoOoO

I know, I know. It's been far too long. It honestly would have been longer, but someone actually threatened to kill herself if I didn't update and while I'm aware it wasn't serious, it did remind me of how annoying it can be to have to wait.

And a bound, naked Wilson is just too gorgeous to put into words. Didn't stop me trying, though.