House stretches his long limbs under the sheets as he sets his novel down on the nightstand. Removes his glasses and pinches the bridge of his nose right between his eyes. It's 11:30 at night and Cameron should have been home over an hour ago.
As if on cue, the front door opens and he can hear her toss her coat and purse onto the couch. She goes straight to the bathroom and showers before she even peeks her head into the bedroom to say hi. He allows her this ritual, understands her need to wash away the dirt and grime of humanity that clings to her after a shift in the ER. He doesn't mind her taking her time to ease back into their world away from work.
But tonight, she showers quickly. He listens as she brushes her teeth. Finally, the bedroom door opens and she runs into the room, dropping her towel on the floor in her race to jump under the covers and press herself into his warm skin. This is what he's been waiting for all evening: her naked body, covered in goose bumps from the chill winter air of the condo, huddled against his side. Her breasts, small and round and perfect, pressed against his bare chest. Gleaning the heat from his body, shivering until the warmth of his embrace seeps down, down, down into her very bloodstream.
"Better?" he asks after several minutes, and her teeth have stopped chattering.
"Much."
She's beginning to relax now, draping herself across his torso and peppering his sternum and collar bones with kisses. She smells fresh and clean.
"Was it crazy at work today?"
His fingers comb through her damp hair, and he gently works out the tangles then lets the long strands fan out over his stomach.
"Mmhmm. Sorry I was late. It's New Year's Eve, so everyone in the tri-state area has either alcohol or food poisoning."
"And to think you were upset about having to work tonight. Imagine all the fun you would have missed!"
She rolls her eyes at this comment, then resumes kissing his chest. She works her way up his throat, over his jaw, and slides her lips against his. Their kisses are sloppy, loose, explicit. It's not their normal nipping, teasing, flirting. Tonight, they will skip all innuendo.
Cameron kneels beside House and hooks her fingers in the waistband of his cotton pajama bottoms, pulls them down his hips. He kicks them off and instantly she is on top of him, wrapping her hand around his cock and thumbing the head. His eyes roll back and he groans. She is wanton and eager, and it makes him even harder than he already was. He slips his hand between her thighs and palms her sex, feels the slippery glide of her juices coating his fingers. One finger dips inside her, and she grinds her hips shamelessly. Uses her own hand to press his against her more firmly, even as she draws circles around the tip of his cock with her thumb.
But they're impatient. House grips Cameron's hips and guides her onto him. She sinks down and within seconds she is bouncing up and down at a fervent pace. Her hands are on her breasts, and he covers them with his own, kneading and caressing, and finally swatting her hands out of the way. His thumbs brush across her nipples. He watches as a rosy blush of desire creeps across her skin, moving up her chest and neck and finally her cheeks.
Outside their window, the neighbors are blowing whistles and noisemakers, shouting "Happy New Year!" in their drunken slurs. The clock has struck midnight. House considers how perfect it is that they are absorbed in the act of lovemaking during the very moment that they bid a fond farewell to the year in which they discovered each other, staked their claims on each other. Another year gone, but he gladly welcomes the new one as he buries himself inside the woman who gives him hope for the future.
She's moving even faster now, and he presses a finger to her clit. She doubles over, braces herself with her hands on either side of his head, rests her forehead on his shoulder. Never stopping the frenetic circling of her hips. She moans with each breath, and it's right in his ear, the most erotic sounds he's ever heard, and he feels the pressure coiling in his belly.
House digs his nails into Cameron's back. He's so close, and she's whispering in his ear, telling him how good he feels inside her, how perfectly he fills her. His head tilts back and he chokes out a strangled "Ungh" as he comes inside her. She's right behind him. Her lips find his, teeth pulling on his bottom lip. Her hand replaces his between her thighs, and she circles her clit a few times, until she's gasping and her whole body is shuddering. He loves this, watching her lose control, hearing her moans, feeling the rhythmic pulsing of her inner walls around his now wilting cock.
Slowly, her body stills and then she is lying on top of him, sighing as he strokes her back with his fingertips. Cameron rolls off of him and curls into his side, the curves of her body fitting perfectly against his chest and hips. His left hand skates along the skin of her left arm, still damp from her shower and the sweat of their exertions. He threads his fingers through hers, lifts their joined hands so he can admire the juxtaposition of rosy pink with tanned, of small and delicate with large and strong.
His eyes are drawn to the matching silver bands on their ring fingers. How they line up when their fingers are entwined like this. Hers is thin and delicate, his is wide and chunky, but they are forged from the same metal. To him, this seems right and appropriate. It's just like them: so different, and yet they couldn't be more alike. Each balanced and made complete by their dissimilarities.
"Happy New Year, Greg," she whispers.
Her voice snaps him out of his musings. She's staring up at him with a smile, the kind that crinkles the skin around her eyes, the kind that makes his breath catch in his throat. He knows what she's thinking, because he's thinking it too.
"Happy New Year, Allison. Our first one together."
A/N: I have no idea why I decided to throw in the bit about the rings, other than the fact that I have this random obsession with the concept of wedding rings. Who has them and who doesn't, what they're made of, what they look like, what they mean to the wearer. And honestly, I never was able to imagine House and Cameron getting married, even if they were a couple in canon. But, well, I was writing this fic and then next thing I knew House was looking at their rings, and sometimes a fic has its own idea of how it should end. Not sure why I felt the need to ramble on about it either. That's all!