For Freya, who never asks for anything but deserves so much more, and for Veronique, who tag teamed to make this happen.
Disclaimer: I'm not involved with David Shore or the show.
Last Nerve – A one-shot sequel to Last Chance
She was getting on his last nerve.
House poured some scotch into his glass and took a swig, swallowing the brown liquid and his frustration. She couldn't possibly expect them to go on like this! Holding hands, light touches here and there, a few kisses, some heavier than others granted, but still JUST KISSES. They weren't in high school for God's sake! They'd passed middle age already. They didn't have time to play around, to patiently wait until their emotional intimacy was as strong as their physical desire. This was ridiculous! He was miserable.
He plopped down on his couch with a groan. Who was he kidding? He wasn't miserable. Not even close. He was happy; he just wasn't content. That was quite ironic really, considering he'd spent the last few years thinking contentment was his only hope since he'd destroyed his chance for happiness. Now, Cuddy was back in his life and he was has happy, frustrated but happy.
They'd seen each other every day since she'd come to see him in the park a month ago. Four weeks. It felt like 4 years. It felt like 40 years! It felt like just yesterday.
He was going crazy.
They met after work every night and shared dinner together. Sometimes they cooked together; sometimes he cooked for them; sometimes they ordered in. He'd even gone so far as to take her out a few times…on dates. Real dates with wine and candlelight and dancing, and just a kiss goodnight.
Even after playing the piano and singing for her that night at Bogart's he hadn't gotten to second base. She'd given him those sexy grins and come-hither stares, tossing innuendos and double entendres at every turn. She'd teased him mercilessly, moving her body against him as they danced, breathing on his neck and in his ear, running her hand along his chest and shoulders and into his hair. What was left of it! He was pulling out a little more of what remained every night!
House knew they needed to take their time. He had to rebuild her trust. He had to prove he was there for her, that she wasn't alone. He needed to demonstrate his commitment to her every day, in every way, in the good and bad times. The bad times being when she was sleeping like a baby while he suffered from blue balls.
House swallowed the last of the scotch and put the glass aside. He needed to shut his mind down. Thinking about it wasn't going to change anything. It wasn't as if he was going to give up and walk away. She'd let him back into her life, her heart. If she never chose to share a bed with him again he'd deal with it. Because it was easier to beat off in the shower than live without her.
With a groan, he stood and adjusted his jeans. Just another night, another erection. He walked down the hall to the bathroom. His water bill was going to be sky high this month.
[H] [H] [H] [H] [H]
He was getting on her last nerve.
What the hell was he thinking? What did she have to do to get him to touch her? To make love with her.
Cuddy rolled over in bed, frustrated and alone. Alone! It was as if he didn't have a libido at all.
Every night they had dinner, spent time with Rachel – usually with him assisting her with her homework, which honestly was proving to be more a turn-on than just a help – until she went to bed. After that, the evenings would be devoted to them, the two of them, talking, laughing, sharing. They watched movies or played games, he'd pretend to do crossword puzzles while she did yoga (she felt his eyes burning her skin and knew the puzzles would be unfinished by the end of the evening), but most of the time they just talked. For hours. They never grew tired of talking, debating, arguing, reflecting, flirting, teasing, tormenting.
She tossed the covers aside and sat up in the bed. This was ridiculous. It was obvious he still wanted her. How many times had she caught him looking down her blouse or checking out her ass these past few weeks? Just tonight his eyes had been so dilated with desire the crystal blue was only a thin rim of color, his nostrils had flared and his entire body had come to alert like a hound catching the scent. And that kiss! God, if his tongue hadn't consumed her with its moist heat, the nudging of his hips would have done her in, leaving her melted in a puddle of need.
It looked like she was going to have to take matters into her own hands again. She would need to make the move. He was waiting on her, letting her set the boundaries and the pace. He was being honorable, careful. He was respecting her. Why couldn't he just be the lascivious, manipulative rogue he'd always been and just take her? Push her up against the wall and have his way with her?
As if he'd ever been a man of action. He'd talked a big game, pushed and prodded, provoking at every turn until she was spurred to action. He'd very rarely made the moves; he'd just orchestrated everything to ensure she would. Once she did, he was all in.
She'd thought it would be different this time. When he'd kissed her in the park, breaking through her fears and pain with each grunted 'I love you', she'd thought he would take the lead. She'd thought he wouldn't be so hesitant and afraid this time, and she wouldn't be so determined and controlled. She'd thought they were going into it from a better place, from a different angle. They needed that. They needed it to be different this time, more balanced and authentic. They needed to live in truth, not in pretense and lies.
Cuddy sighed in frustration. They needed to have sex. They needed to make love until neither one of them could move and then rest for a bit and start over again. They needed to feel that connection, to be whole and at home, totally lost in each other.
Something has to give, she thought as she got up to exercise, to work some of the tension out of her body. He couldn't keep holding out like this. She couldn't! If this sweet build-up to goodbye every night was going to be their way, she'd need to consider other options. And that would just be pathetic. She was too old to be shopping for vibrators.
[H] [H] [H] [H] [H]
"Dammit!" Cuddy yelled. "If you're trying to prove you're still an overbearing, arrogant, narcissistic pain in the ass, you win. I'm an idiot! And you're a bigger idiot! You can leave now."
He'd been pushing her all night, deflecting from his feelings, undermining her, ambushing the conversation with offensive tactics meant to keep her on the defense, keep her agitated and angry. He was baiting her, picking fights with her and mocking her for controlling her reactions. She didn't want to play his game. She wasn't going to.
House stared at her, stunned. She was angry at him. Furious. As hot as it was to watch her eyes spit fire, her shoulders stiffen and her chest swell out, it was also unsettling. This was the first time they'd fought since they'd reunited. It was the first time they'd stood toe to toe, defending ideas, debating perspectives, battling for position.
"You're kicking me out?" The first sign of trouble and she was telling him to hit the road. Is that how it was going to be? The same old shit? Him afraid of every word, every step, wondering when it was all going to break and she'd be gone? No way! He wasn't doing that again.
"I'm not going to play this game with you," she said through clenched teeth. "You come in here looking for a fight, probing and digging to find just the right opening so you can poke me and stab me where I'm most vulnerable. You are being intentionally mean spirited to test me. Well, I'm not going to take that test! I passed all your tests already. And if you're too much of an idiot to see it, we're doing this for nothing. We've already failed."
She threw the dirty pans from dinner into the sink and turned on the water, preparing to wash them. Scrubbing pans may actually help at this point.
"You think I'm trying to hurt you?" Now he was angry.
What the hell? Had they not made any progress? He'd bared his heart and soul to her. He'd been doing everything right. And not just right by her rules and standards, but right for them, for what they needed and wanted for their relationship, for what was more important than his selfish needs. He'd put her first, and it still wasn't enough!
"I don't know," she yelled. "I don't know what you're doing! I don't know what we're doing!"
"Bullshit!" House yelled back at her. "You know exactly what I'm doing. I'm trying to build a life with you. I'm trying to be a better man for you. I'm trying to love you, but as usual it's not good enough for you."
He turned away and stormed into the living room. It was a good thing Rachel was spending the night with a friend. She didn't need this. He didn't need this. He was an idiot for thinking it would be different.
"You're saying this is my fault?" She followed him, glaring at him as he grabbed his coat off the back of the sofa and pulled it on. "I have let you totally into my life! There's not one area I don't open the door and let you in. You're the one who keeps walking away."
"I'm not walking away; you're kicking me out," he reminded her, his eyes icy cold.
"Because you're treating me like crap! I'm not going to be victimized again."
"That's right! Throw my all my past crimes in my face," he clenched his fist, the fury building in him. "Forget the fact you're trying to control everything; acting like a dictator when you are really just a coward!"
"Screw you, House!" she said.
"Right," he said angrily and jerked the front door open. "If I was that lucky this all might be worth it!"
Cuddy flinched as the door slammed behind him.
Oh my God!
House stood frozen outside the door.
Shit!
The door flung open behind him and he quickly turned around. Her eyes were wide, searching and wild. His were frantic as he looked at her. The air around them was charged, the tension palpable. The anger from just seconds before dissipated, soaked up in the sponge that was the unshakable love between them. The fury was part of their passion, not a result of mistakes or innate problems, but evidence of the unquenchable thirst that drew them together. It wasn't an obstacle, but a conduit.
House stepped forward and back through the door, slamming it behind him as he pulled her into his arms. His mouth pressed against hers, his tongue diving into her open mouth. He pushed her against the door, pulling her hands above her head and capturing her wrists with one of his hands.
His lips moved over her jaw to her ear and then down her neck. The contrast of his beard scraping her skin and the softness of his lips, the soothing heat of his mouth left her breathless.
Cuddy thought she felt his other hand graze her breast, but she couldn't be sure. She was lost in the way his mouth moved across her collarbone. Then his fingers made a wide circle around her nipple. That she felt, that made her gasp for air. He cupped her breast, sliding his thumb over the tip as he brought his mouth back to hers for a searing kiss. She arched toward his touch. Their tongues dueled.
He released her wrists and she pulled off her shirt. He removed her bra. She pushed his jacket off his shoulders and down his arms. He pulled his shirt over his head and tossed it to the side.
House looked at her breasts, eyes filled with lust. Her palms ran over his chest and down his abdomen. When she reached for his belt, their eyes locked.
His hand reached down to cupped her at the V of her thighs. Cuddy gasped. The pressure of his palm, the feel of his fingers on her heat, separated by the fabric of her jeans, was too much. She was too sensitive, too aware of him. She released a moan and her eyes rolled back in her head. He wrapped his other arm around her, holding her steady. She was weak and wanting.
"You should have told me," he whispered gruffly.
"You shouldn't wait to be told," she sighed.
House grinned.
He lifted her. She wrapped her legs around him as he carried her down the hall.
"This is so much better than taking care of myself," she said, and lightly bit his earlobe.
House groaned and dropped her on the bed.
"You're really getting on my nerves," he said as he dropped his pants.
Cuddy touched the tip of his erection.
"This one?"
He didn't answer. Words didn't matter.
Instead, he took action…and she couldn't have been happier.