A little One-Shot for fun.
Thanks to Jessica for the laughter that led to this prompt.
Disclaimer: I was never affiliated with the show or there would have been break-up sex.
He didn't know how it happened. One minute he'd been defending himself after she'd tore into him for performing a risky procedure without obtaining the proper release forms to protect her precious hospital – he'd been snapping at her for being a regimented control freak with more concern for bureaucracy than saving lives - the next minute she'd pushed him against the wall and kissed him. She was ravaging him, licking and biting, tasting his mouth, his jaw, his neck; her body moving against him in an erotic rhythm that left him breathless.
House didn't want to take the time to consider the how or why. Cuddy was in his arms. He was holding her, kissing her, lifting her as his hands cupped her rear and pulled her against him.
"You're such an ass," she muttered as she began tearing at his jacket and shirt, desperately seeking to touch his bare skin.
"I'm saving his life," he answered breathlessly, distracted by the feel of her breasts as he cupped them. He thought he'd never touch these wonders again.
"You're not protecting yourself or the hospital."
She wasn't denying his claim; of course he was saving his patient's life. He just was being careless and rebellious. And he was taking his renegade ways to the extreme to punish her for breaking up with him.
She'd broken up with him: walked out on him when it was evident he was incapable of being there for her when she needed him most. Cuddy tried to remember that, attempted to recall the hurt and betrayal she'd felt. But House was voracious, his hands everywhere, his mouth...Oh his mouth.
He was as wild for her as she was for him, which of course only fueled the flame in her. She was on fire. It was all wrong; it was crazy. It was careless and stupid and…
He ripped her thong from beneath her skirt and spun around so she was braced against sink.
"Oh, God," she moaned against his neck.
Had she unzipped his pants? When had they dropped to his knees? It didn't even matter. His cock was in her hand, hot and hard, and her body was writhing against him, desperately seeking to have the emptiness that had tormented her for days filled.
"House, what are you…"
It was hard to say who was more startled. The couple caught in flagrante delicto, or Wilson.
He stared agape frozen to his spot in the doorway. Cuddy had the expression of a deer in headlight, and House looked an equal mix of angry and shocked as he sought to shield her body from view.
"Oh, God," Wilson gasped, finally processing what he had walked in on. "I'm sorry. I'm…"
He fumbled out of the room, embarrassed and confused.
Wilson didn't know if he should feel disappointed or relieved that he hadn't seen his boss naked. House had blocked the view of everything except her face peering over his shoulder and the bare leg wrapped around his hips. Ugh! He'd never get the vision of House's naked ass out of his mind.
What the hell were they doing?
Well, it was obvious what they were doing, but why? Cuddy had broken up with him; House was back on drugs. He'd spent the last few days drowning himself in debauchery. So why were they having sex in the bathroom of his patient's room? Unless they were back together. Were they back together? Had Cuddy forgiven him? Had they managed to work through it?
"Wilson," Cuddy called from behind him.
She had managed to pull herself together quickly, though her face was flushed and the tell-tale trail of beard burn ran down her neck and into the V of her blouse.
"Don't," he said, shaking his head to prevent any explanation. "Obviously you're back together. I'm happy for you."
"We're not back together," Cuddy quickly denied.
Wilson turned stunned eyes on her. "You were just having sex in the hospital," he said. "In a patient's room. In the middle of the day. What do you mean you're not back together?"
"That was an accident."
"An accident?" He gave her a look of disbelief.
"You heard about the surgery he performed," she explained. Of course he had. Everyone had heard about the crazy feat. He was the resident anti-hero of the medical community yet again. "He didn't get release forms and he didn't even get permission before…"
"An accident?"
"Yes!" she bit out. "I didn't mean for it to happen, I just…"
"Tripped over your falling thong and landed on your naked ex-boyfriend."
"He wasn't naked."
"He would have been."
"You don't know that."
"That's your defense?"
"I don't need a defense," she bit back and pushed the already lit button of the elevator. "It was a mistake. It just happened."
Wilson sighed. He shouldn't be surprised. They had always had a combustible relationship, but this was the type of explosion that could destroy House. "It can't happen again."
The elevator finally arrived and Cuddy rushed through the doors, anxious to get away from him. Or was it the scene of the crime?
"Cuddy," he warned. "You can't do this. These 'mistakes' could kill him."
He heard her mutter as the doors closed. "They'll kill me first."
"What did she say?"
Wilson wasn't surprised when House pushed through his office door unannounced. He was more surprised that he hadn't shown up sooner. It had been over an hour since he'd interrupted the rendezvous with Cuddy.
"Nothing."
"Of course she said something," House said, plopping down in the guest chair in front of his desk. "I've never seen her get dressed that fast."
"You never saw her running away from the scene of a crime."
"The crime was that you ruined the moment."
"The crime was you having meaningless sex in the hospital."
"It wasn't meaningless."
"House," Wilson took on his patronizing oncologist voice. "You're not back together."
"No," he agreed. "But break-up sex is never a bad thing."
"You can't do break-up sex."
"Believe me, I can do break-up sex."
"No, House," he said. "You'll want more and she can't give it. Nothing's changed. You aren't the man she needs."
"What happened in that bathroom says otherwise."
"It says you're the man she wants," he agreed. "But you're not the man she needs. You're not good for her."
House flinched, his emotional shields dropping briefly to reveal the hurt and pain he was carrying before giving him and dramatic pout.
"That's just mean," he said.
"House," Wilson spoke with a steady, firm voice. "Don't read too much into this. It will only hurt you more."
"I told you this would happen," House answered flippantly as he stood to leave. "We were destined to split up. The break-up sex is just part of the healing."
"Don't do it, House!" Wilson warned as his friend opened the office door to leave. "It won't turn out well."
It happened again.
Of course it happened again. He knew it would. His friends were on a self-destruct path and there wasn't a damn thing he could do about it.
All he'd wanted was to give her the monthly oncology report she'd requested. What he'd gotten is the disturbingly erotic image of her climbing over House, ready to ride him like a stallion…or bull…or whatever.
"You need to pull it together," Wilson said. "You can't keep having sex with House all over the hospital. You didn't even do that when you were dating."
"It was an accident."
"You can't be serious."
"He came to ME, in MY office, with some cock-eyed excuse for cutting open…"
"So you eyed his cock and attacked him."
"Very funny," she said. "And I didn't attack him."
"You were on top of him."
"It just happened," she sighed. "It was a mistake."
"You two don't need to have sex," he said. "You need to talk. You need to sort through all the feelings not act on them."
"Since when did you become a relationship therapist?"
"When my two best friends became the only porn I've seen in weeks," he snapped. "Did you just see him? Did you see the man who just walked out the door? You're going to destroy him, Cuddy. I know you two have this thing going, but you need to pull it together. You can't do this!"
She collapsed into the chair behind her desk, crushed and as near broken as he'd ever seen her. "I don't know if I can."
"Seriously?" She hissed, furious at his nonchalance and general disinterest. "You sabotage the environmental control system for your own selfish purposes and that's all you have to say?"
"Release me from clinic duty as punishment and we'll both be happy."
Cuddy instructed Dr. Bashir to take over the patient he'd just called from the waiting room and pushed House into one of the exam rooms.
"And it wasn't selfish," House said. "It was for my patient."
"We have protocols…"
"Which are useless in an emergency."
"There are a lot of patients in this hospital with an emergency!"
"Well, they aren't MY patients," he bit back. "You should plant your claws in their doctors instead of hissing at me for doing whatever it takes to pull my patient through."
Cuddy flinched, her eyes filling with water as if she'd been hit.
House wasn't sure what he'd said to produce such a reaction, but it only lasted a second before the fire was back and he felt the sting of her hand against his cheek.
"What the…?"
She moved to slap him again, but he caught her wrist. She'd never hit him before, never lost control like this.
He searched her for answers. Her eyes were wide and wild, hurt and furious; he could see the perfect storm of emotions bubbling to the surface, a force to powerful for her to withstand.
"Cuddy," he said.
She tried to pull away; he held her tight, pulling her to him in a tight embrace.
"Don't," she whispered. But she didn't fight him when his lips touched hers, his mouth greedily devouring her, seeking to draw out all of her pain.
She gasped; he released her hands. She pulled him to her, tugging at his hair and gripping his shoulders. He pushed her against the examination table, pressing his body into hers possessively.
Suddenly they were tearing at clothes, desperately seeking bare skin and heat and the thrill of release. Her bra was unsnapped and tangled with the shirt that had been pushed up beneath her chin to bare her breasts to him; her skirt was hiked at her hips and her panties pulled from her legs. His pants were dropped before he even lifted her to the exam table. Their passion was hot and strong, a conflagration burning a path between them.
She was wet; he was hard. They were ready.
She wrapped her legs around him and he pushed into her with one solid thrust.
Cuddy cried out.
Finally together, joined, relieved, excited, they held each other steady to savor the moment. It felt so good, so right. It felt like home.
"You should have been there for me." she said in a shaky voice. "You should have fought for me like you do your patients."
House held her tight, his head resting on her shoulder as the weight of her words washed over him.
"I was so afraid," she whispered close to his ear, but she sounded distant.
"So was I," he said. "I was terrified."
He leaned back to look at her, his glassy, bright blue eyes haunted as they captured hers.
"I couldn't handle the thought of a life without you in it." His lip quivered slightly and he dropped his head again. "Even if it's a life where you hate me."
His body was crying out for him to move, to thrust, to finish what he'd started. Her muscles instinctively tightened around his cock, demanding more in spite of the emotional turmoil that should have diminished their passion.
"I don't hate you," she said. "I wish I did."
She kissed his neck as they both began to move. Her body tightened, coiled and spasmed, and as she came apart in his arms she heard him say: "I love you."
Wilson could tell something was off the minute House passed the nurse's station in the clinic. It could have been the flush on his neck, or the slump of his shoulders, or the way his shirt was tucked partially in the back of his jeans. Still he wouldn't have been able to identify the problem had it not been for Cuddy.
When she came out of the exam room, her clothes were perfectly placed, her hair almost perfectly groomed. But then there was the flush and the beard marks and the way she kept her eyes averted as she headed toward her office.
"Cuddy," he said as she passed.
Her body tensed and she stood straighter as she turned to look at him. She closed her eyes against his stare and his suspicions were confirmed.
She shook her head in an attempt to avoid the conversation, but he followed her.
"Tell me you didn't," he said from behind her.
She sighed. "It was an accident."
"I wish more women were as accident prone as you," he said. "Men would be a lot happier."
Cuddy frowned. "It's not as if I planned it."
"No," he agreed. "But it wasn't an accident, either."
"I know it's wrong," she said miserably. "You can skip the lecture."
"Cuddy," he said calmly. "The first time was a mistake; the second could have been a catharsis, but a third time…"
"I know," she interrupted, collapsing into her chair. "I screwed up."
"You're back together."
Her head jerked as she looked at him in shock. "No," she said. "We're not."
"You should be," he said gently. "Stop fighting it or denying it, or whatever you're doing. You're not accident prone. You're in love."
"He wasn't there for me," she said. "It was never about love."
"Maybe it should be," he answered, and turned to leave. "And he was there for you, just not the way you expected. When has he ever done things the way you expected?"
Cuddy jumped back, startled as the door to his apartment opened before she'd even knocked.
"You scared the shit out of me," she said.
"Need a shower?" he quickly responded, waggling his brow suggestively. It was as if the past few weeks hadn't happened. How could he tease her this way? How could he be so easy with her when things were so confused?
Cuddy noticed the suitcase on the floor by his leg and frowned. She received his request for the week off, but had thought he was taking some time to nurse his wounds. God knows they both needed time after what they'd put each other through, especially after what had happened in the clinic. It was clear there was too much left unresolved between them.
"You going somewhere?"
"Rehab."
Her eyes widened. "Really?"
He shrugged.
"That's good, House. It's really good."
There was an awkward silence as they watched each other shift weight and fidget. There was so much unspoken, so much they should talk about. House knew that. He understood that. Damn if he knew where to start. But she was here. She'd come to his apartment, to see him. She was shy and nervous, and obviously didn't have a clue how to start the conversation either. That was somehow comforting.
"Want to drive me to the loony bin?"
Surprised eyes gazed at him as a smile spread across her face.
He was going to let her in. He was going to let her be a part of his recovery this time. That was a sign, right?
"I'd like that," she said. She'd spent a lot of time thinking over the last few hours and had come to some hard conclusions. "Maybe I should check-in, too."
"You're not on drugs," he pointed out as he picked up the suitcase and stepped into the hallway.
"But I am a bit crazy."
"A bit?"
She glared at him as she opened the exterior door so he could pass through.
"Maybe they'll allow conjugal visits," he suggested as he tossed the suitcase into the trunk.
"And Wilson won't interrupt!"
"How will we manage?"
They stared at each other, their grins infectious as their unspoken words became understood.
They didn't know how it happened. One minute they were teasing each other about conjugal visits and Wilson interrupting, the next they were sprawled in the back seat of her car, tearing at each other's clothes like horny teenagers.
Her hands were all over him; his lips all over her. There was barely enough room to move, much less properly disrobe and explore each other. But his fingers found her wet and her hand found him hard, and soon he was seeded inside her.
"I've missed you," he admitted as he thrust into her.
"I need you," she said as she matched his rhythm.
They were barely recovering from the orgasms when a knock came at the window. House jumped and struggled to sit up as they awkwardly adjusted their clothes. When he cracked open the window, Wilson glared at them.
"You're kidding me, right?" he said.
House grinned at Cuddy as she leaned over to peer out the window.
"It was just an accident."
