more_flexible | [for greg]

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greg

[for greg]

That morning, at the clothes box, Jack had met Buffy. He'd been here more than a year and so had she, but what was amazing was that in the past seven months (almost to the day) he hadn't ever even seen her. Sure, he'd wondered, he'd thought about that name...dreamed about that name on the lips of a raving madman. That name along with ropes and blades and smothering darkness.

He'd just thought he was handling it better.

He'd collected enough shellfish for he and Greg and threw together a quick lunch after he'd left the basement. If he could keep busy, he could keep from thinking about it. From thinking about her. She barely came up to his chest and she was so pretty and young and if she'd been bound and there had been...no. He couldn't keep doing this to himself. He'd done what he had to do to stay alive, and he'd done all he could to keep people like Buffy safe. He tried not to think about Maladicta being hit, tried not to think about how he'd failed to just keep the man there with him. He just needed to stop thinking about it.

Except he couldn't. It was on his mind the whole way to the treehouse.

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He smiled softly against Greg's mouth before pulling back. "Whould you believe me if I said I'm fine?"

"Uh... no, but I'd sure like to."

"I'm as okay as I can be," he assured House, propping himself up on his elbow. "You want to finish eating?"

"Yeah, okay." House settled back. Then he hesitated. "I'm, uh, sorry. I didn't mean to... I mean, I didn't come here with you for sex."

That coaxed a broader smile from him. "Greg...don't be sorry. I'm not an idiot. I like sex, and I love you. You think I brought the oil for massage?" he asked, picking up another scallop and holding it up for Greg to eat.

Looking a little sheepish, House leaned forward and took the scallop between his teeth.

"Well, you did say you wanted me to give you one."

"I know," Jack said softly, sitting back and peeling off his shirt. "You remember how...um...before. After the cave...you didn't push? I trust you, Greg. I'm just," he stammered, taking time to fold the shirt. "I'm just off-balance. I'll go talk to Doctor Deane. She put a thing on the bulletin board anyhow. I just...I want to know it's okay. Everything's okay when I'm with you."

"Of course."

House sighed a little and put his hand lightly on Jack's bare shoulder. "Just... you make the first moves for a while, okay? I won't push."

"Okay," he agreed, moving some of the food out of the way and laying the towel out so he could lay on it. "Kiss me? Anywhere but my mouth like before," he asked hesitantly as he stroked Greg's arm.

House nodded and settled on the ground beside Jack. He took the oil and rubbed some onto his hands, and then leaned over Jack, putting his hands on his back and kneading gently as he kissed the back of his neck.

Jack groaned softly, pressing back against every touch and closed his eyes to remember the shower. That first time when Greg had actually surprised him with how...understanding...he'd been.

"You have the most amazing hands," he whispered, tension melting away.

"Mmmm," said House noncommitally and pressed a little harder, working the tension out of Jack's muscles, and every so often pausing to trail his lips over the expanse of skin he'd just been working on.

Jack laid still, enjoying every touch. It was so peaceful here. It would be nice to get away like this more often...if Greg wanted to.

"Greg? What do you want? With us, or anything," he asked, face resting on his arms.

House's lips brushed against Jack's shoulderblade. "What, you mean right now?"

"No...and yes. Now. Next week. Next month...I want to know what you want."

"That's a hard question to answer, Jack. Do you know what you want, next week, next month?"

"I want you," he said simply. "However...boyfriend. Friend. I don't know. Things have gone all to shit and I don't know if they're ever going back, but I know I want you in my life. I want your hands on me. I want to be in your bed...for more than sex."

That was about as close as he could get to this nebulous, unfamiliar idea. It wasn't a house and a dog and babies like Jane talked about, and it wasn't what he and the Doctor were trying to find.

"I'm sorry if that doesn't make any sense."

House looked at him for a second. "No, I... you think you don't already have that?"

"I hope I have that. I don't want it to end. I hate not seeing you. I miss sleeping with you. I don't know...I keep wondering how selfish I can be."

"I've told you you're welcome back in my bed, Jack. What do you mean, selfish?"

"I think I want to know your answer first," he replied, turning enough to look at Greg as much as he could. "Tell me what you want."

"I don't know, I don't really... think like that. If you're asking me if I want you, of course I do. You know that."

"I know. I do," Jack said, rising onto his elbows so his back bowed gracefully. "I feel like a fucking woman asking you this," he snorted, "but I know you don't like me fucking other people, and you know I'm not going to stop. Are you honestly okay with that?"

Although he didn't bother to mention that he hadn't done anything more than flirt with anyone in weeks. And he still didn't know anyone he wanted in bed more than House. That spark just wasn't there.

And he both hoped for and feared its return.

"No," House said honestly, "I'm not, but I'll deal with it. Besides, I still sleep with Rob, and I'm not a total hypocrite."

"I don't think you should have to deal with it, Greg," he said softly. "I...maybe, um...I might talk to the therapist about that, too. Sex..." he said, or more like asked. The last thing he wanted to do was talk any more about the two of them and have it make Greg mad again.

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