Title: Early Morning Light
Author: obsessiveluv27
Rating: R (language, sex, and violence)
Summary: They say loves changes a person for the better. Well, romantic love just sat beside House providing nothing but a pleasant distraction, friendship-based love shook his hand but not much else, and the love of his parents slid off of him like water to a duck. Can the love for a child work a miracle?
Pairing: House/OFC… but there really isn't a pairing to this story, though I might put one in later.
Author's note: This is my try at a kid story.
Ch 1
The first time, he picked her up on his bike. She was young, perhaps twenty, but he didn't really care. He picked her because he hadn't had a red-head in a while, and she had big tits. Her prices were acceptable- one hundred dollars for a blowjob, one-fifty for intercourse- with a condom, of course. Of course he had told her; after all he was a doctor. He knew the importance of safe sex.
He took her back to his place; she commented on the location and the interior. She asked if he lived there alone. He told her to shut up. She asked for the money, and began what she was being paid to do.
She was good- he'd have to give her that. He almost came from the heat of her mouth and the vision of her bright-red hair, probably dyed, gliding up and down his erection. But he had paid the hundred and fifty bucks for the intercourse, so with some reluctance he stopped her, then verbally shoved her to the bedroom. The sex was good too. Not the best he ever had, but definitely worth the money. When they were finished, he laid back on his bed and complimented her on her cock-sucking techniques, but told her she could use some work in the fucking department. She smiled at him and told him she'd practice more. He couldn't tell if she was serious or not. She left, with him still lying on the bed. When he finally got up, it was to eat some Pop Tarts and watch a rerun of The OC. When he got up to throw away his wrapper, he noticed a name and number written on a piece of paper on his coffee table- Jenny, 579-5294.
The second time was after he started using his cane again. He was in pain, and, whether that pain was real or not, he wanted some pleasure to help him forget. Her number had been shoved under a pile of old bills, sitting forgotten until he needed it. When he called she seemed a bit surprised, she never expected him to call, but told him she would be over in 30 minutes. She obviously remembered him because she said nothing the entire night except to ask for her money. It wasn't long after she left that the pain returned. Sex was only a temporary relief.
The third time he picked her up on his bike again. Ever since he had seen the blonde teenager's milky tears, and realized her infatuation with him stemmed from an infection not lust, he had been feeling a sense of inadequacy. He went specifically looking for her, and when he found her she had dyed her hair a different shade of red. He told her he liked the other way better and shoved the money into her hand. When they got back to his place he surprised her by telling her to scream and moan as loud as she could. He fucked her so hard and fast that he couldn't get out of bed the next day without taking three Vicodin. It was worth it however, because he could hear his worth as a man in the echo of her whimpers.
The fourth time he called her and told her if she got there in the next ten minutes he would pay her double. It was after he had spent the night in jail. He was pissed off at that idiotic cop, and needed to relieve his built up stress. She showed up at his doorstep seven minutes later, not as pretty as normal, and toting along a kid. She told him she couldn't find someone to watch the boy and that he could just watch TV or something while they 'did their business.' After several long seconds of staring at the pair in his doorway, he motioned them inside and walked into his bedroom. She came in and shut the door. "You're a horrible mother." He grabbed her head and roughly nipped at her neck. She made some noises and House vaguely understood she was trying to defend herself. Some other time he might have cared. Some other time he would have argued with her. Today he had so much pent-up aggression and tension the only thing on his mind was sex. He fucked her quietly because her kid was in the next room, but he nevertheless fucked her.
When he was finished he made his way to the bathroom to clean up and when he came out the kid was still on the floor reading a colorful-looking book. The hooker was still in his bedroom, and he took a moment to look the kid over. The first thing he noticed, besides the age- about five- was the color of his hair. Mom might be a natural red-head after all. The kid had curly brown hair with auburn streaks that would seem red in the right light. His mom stuck her head out the bedroom and told him to get his stuff together. He nodded his head and put his book and a half-eaten sandwich into a plastic Wal-Mart bag, paying no mind to the strange man staring at him.
"Your mom, she do this a lot?" He wanted to know, so he asked.
"Sometimes." The answer was short, softly spoken and accompanied by a shrug of the little shoulders. The mom came out of the room and took her son's hand. She glanced back at her client and then left.
He fell asleep easily that night, not thinking at all of the red-haired whore and her son. After all, they weren't very interesting. There was no puzzle, no mystery. She was just someone he used, and the kid was someone he would never meet again.
It's funny how fast things can change.
