Being Okay
Disclaimer: Ooh, a twofer! I don't own House MD or Ingrid Michaelson's masterpiece "Be Ok".
Pairing: House/Cuddy.
Genre: Angst/Humor/Romance.
Rating: T.
Spoiler: Season 6, episode 7.
Dedication: To the lovely and funny Kit-Kat who inspired the use of this song :D. Love you tons 3.
Summary: Sequel to my one-shot "Known Unknowns". House and Cuddy have to learn to be okay. I apologize in advance to any Lucas shippers, I am a bad person ;D. Spoiler for 6x07.
PS: I kinda started "Known Unknowns" before the actual episode aired so I did not know that Lucas had showed up at the conference. So we are going to pretend that Cuddy's suite is sans-Lucas, kay? Fabulous :D. Enjoy your reading 3
I just want to be ok, be ok, be ok
I just want to be ok today
I just want to be ok, be ok, be ok
I just want to be ok today
The sex was more than "okay", in fact it had been fan-fucking-tastic.
It had been hard and slow while at the same time smooth and fast, actually the only thing she could compare to was slow dancing to that damn song the evening before and before that twenty years ago when she had first met him ordering her fourth martini of the night.
Thoughts come to her slowly, as they often did so early in the morning after an evening spent doing the "horizontal tango" with memories and alcohol rushing through her veins. Breifly she wondered how she had ended up this sitatuation; naked, satisified, and utterly careless in bed with her official mentally unstable employee and the man she had dreamed of being with ever since that dance in that club on the chilliest October evening she could remember. The answer to that question was simple: she had seen him sitting alone at the bar, he had checked her out, she had heard the DJ start up the song and before she knew it there they were.
Slow dancing.
Holding their breath.
Kissing.
Stripping.
Smiling.
And then some.
But was this what she wanted? What he wanted? Alright, stupid question. Of course he wanted it, of course she wanted it but did that justify crying out his name while he brought her into intense, beautiful, and numerous orgasms? Did it justify her grin and moan that dragged him over the edge as well? It wasn't fair. It didn't make sense. Who the hell was she fooling? It didn't matter. She had enjoyed it and House had certainly had his fun and now they were either going to go somewhere with it or leave it behind with their song and bed sheets and drunken reasons. Oh, who was she kidding? They'd never take it forward and why was that?
Because House doesn't want to.
Because House isn't ready to.
Because wild sex with your employee isn't a smart thing to do.
Because wild sex with your employee isn't a smart thing to do when you're seeing someone else.
I just want to feel today, feel today, feel today
I just want to feel something today
I just want to feel today, feel today, feel today
I just want to feel something today
The sex had made him feel something. Something good. Something real.
Not to mention it had been fucking fabulous each and every time they did it. Each and every time he had her under, over, or beside him. He was crippled and aging and he was sure it was going to slow him down but with Cuddy he couldn't move fast enough, hard enough, flat out enough for her. Gray irises bursting with pleasure, dark—nearly black—hair masquerading as a halo for the angel holding him in her arms (along with a few other places), creamy flushed skin flashing before his eyes as she moved and grooved around him.
But it wasn't all physical. No, he also felt something else, something that left him aching while simultaneously, strangely delighted. Cuddy seemed to have that effect on him as of late and he isn't exactly sure if that is a positive or a negative.
Positive: He is feeling something other than the pain.
Negative: He is feeling something other than the pain.
For a normal person not being use to the numbing sensation of depression and hurting would be considered good, healthy even. Just not for House. House is not use to much but the pain, that is not to say he is completely depressed, he has his moments in the sun where he feels geninuely good about himself and on occasion even others. It's just not all the time or even most of the time. He can recall the emotions of elation and togetherness that most people encounter in their lives, he can say that once in a while he gets sick and tired of his emotional aching and at almost any time he can complain about the physical pain he faces every day.
Except this is different. Honestly it is so completely forgein he does not know what to say or do or even think so he simply declines the concept of getting up and out of this bed he is sharing with his boss—also known as the woman he is stupidly infatuated/in hatred with—and decides to lay a little longer in her presence, soaking up her bodily and soulful warmth while the most random question popped up in his very tired mind.
Was she dreaming?
What was she dreaming about?
Why did it matter to him?
Should he wake her up?
Should he actually get out of bed sometime today?
If he kissed her would she feel it?
Open me up and you will see
I'm a gallery of broken hearts
I'm beyond repair, let me be
And give me back my broken parts
Lucas was weighing heavily on her mind this morning.
Cuddy kept her eyes closed. Her belief being that her boyfriend actually had the ability to step from her thoughts and out into the suite to see her intertwined with the world's most badass, pain in the ass, misanthropic, sex machine cripple, with whom she was completely and coincidentally smitten with.
She groaned, repressing the image of Lucas' smiling face with bright eyes, his adorable awkwardness that—when combined with his odd sense of intelligence—made him undeniabley charming. Rationally she was well aware of how wrong this whole thing was. She had just thrown away any chance of being with Lucas for a one night romp session with a man whose impression of a mature relationship was watching Mature rated videos on the second date. So why wasn't she upset? Why wasn't she jumping from the bed and House's embrace and hastily attaching clothes to her body? Why could she not will herself to tell House it was all a mistake and to never happen again?
Okay, so she had an affair of sorts. It was not as if it had been intentional, like she had wickedly planned to get tipsy enough to believe it was alright to run her hands over him like she and he were the only two people in the room. Cuddy did not intend on allowing House's tongue to wrap around hers, disarming her long enough to push her against the wall so he would be able to unzip her dress and let it spill around their ankles in a puddle of fabric. Lisa's objective had most definitely not been to have House split her legs apart so he could feel the heat of her attraction against the palm of his hand, nor was it her purpose to whisper his name between kisses while she undid his pants and freed him of his boxers and did things she could never have imagined doing with him after that night.
Gentle as could be, Lisa rolled over and on to her other side so that she could face the man spooning beside her. He looked so pleasently at peace as he slept. His eyelids were closed and his lips were curling up in the corners, the damn intoxicating scent of drunken sex and unrequited love enveloping her, causing a shiver to suddenly run down her spine.
"Morning." A voice says, coming out ruffled from being below layers of blankets and bedsheets.
Cuddy knows this part. She says "good morning" back and then realization dawns and they both spring from the bed on opposite sides, rushing to get dressed or showered or to just escape. So the words don't come out and her mind forces her to think that this is maybe because she doesn't want to the leave the confines of the bed of House's limbs or this goregous morning.
"House—" Lisa begins, her tone quiet and a little fearful but it is interupted and she is greatful.
"Cuddy, shut up for once." Greg replies with his arm still wrapped around her waist protectively.
And because she is terrified of everything but his touch and soft words, Lisa relaxes in his arms.
I just want to know today, know today, know today
I just want to know something today
I just want to know today, know today, know today
Know that maybe I will be ok
Greg House knew that today was going to be a difficult day, afterall the evidence of this was common sense.
He had woken up with a hangover.
He had woken up with a hangover at a medical conference.
He had woken up with a hangover at a medical conference in Cuddy's bed.
He had woken up with a hangover at a medical conference in Cuddy's bed naked.
He had woken up with a hangover at a medical conference in Cuddy's bed, with Cuddy.
He had woken up with a hangover at a medical conference in Cuddy's bed, with Cuddy naked.
He had woken up with a hangover at a medical confernece in Cuddy's bed nude, with a very naked Cuddy, who also had a hangover.
In scientific math this had the makings of a very bad day, a very bad day with a lot of argument and/or denial on either of their parts. Well wasn't that just fucking wonderful?
Squashing his fear and disappointment House remembers—how instances ago—he had managed to quiet Cuddy with a simple demand. This makes him smile a little. Maybe this won't be as hard as he originally expected, but then the brilliant diagnostician recalls something else about the woman he is currently caressing; she cannot be silenced for long. He learned that the hard way the previous night and well into the dark morning hours.
"I'm not running away this time Cuddy." Greg whispers into the mess of her curls. "I can barely dance, remember?"
Dear God, he hopes teasing about the situation actually helps this time.
Then there is a hush that settles over room, at least what he figures to be a hush when he barely makes out the words she has mouthed against his tender skin of his neck.
Just give me back my pieces
Just give them back to me please
Just give me back my pieces
And let me hold my broken parts
"I am so sorry, Greg." Lisa lets her lips grace his neck, butterfly kissing him between her words.
Cuddy is certain that she has no nerve since she cannot even gather enough courage to look him in those glorious cerulean eyes and tell him that she has been "dating" Lucas for a total of a two months now. It is not as if she loves him but in the same breath she doesn't want to hurt him, Lucas that is. He is funny, sweet and sentimental. Lucas cradles Rachel when Cuddy is making them dinner and he had patiently and respectfully waited until she was ready to have sex with him. All in all he is a great man to be with and she is grateful for such a healthy and caring relationship for once. And yet now that she is facing this man, kissing this man and hearing this man speak to her like he did years ago--like he has in her dreams, like he might love her--Cuddy finds herself absolutely repulsed by the concept of waking up to Lucas. In fact she is turned off by the idea of waking up to any man a man without a limp or opening her dresser drawer to find argyle socks or to step through the threshold of her nursery to see Lucas Douglas holding her daughter.
For a moment she mulls over how long she has felt this way or if she had even felt this way before this House incident. Before. Now that was a funny word to use. Lisa knows that there is no such thing as "before" Greg House, that as long as time could tell she has either known him or been smitten with him, likely both. It is this realization that worries her though, wondering if her entire relationship with Lucas is a facade because she is obviously still crazy for House or if her relationship with the former is the facade because she made the choice to move on from him and they really wouldn't work out together (the odds are stacked against them). When thoughts as troublesome as these surface in her mind, Cuddy finds a comfort in either working the problems out on paper or by some form of mediation or self-soothing. Normally this would mean she would peel herself from the comforter and her lover's arms and find an open space on the carpeted rug to practice her yoga positions which she did six days a week on average, thank you very much. But not this morning. Not when the dream of sharing a bed and embrace with Gregory House has finally come true. Oh no, she would surrender anything (well almost anything) to keep this moment from ending.
Again Lucas comes to her frayed mind. Lucas Douglas; lover, partner, dorky and friendly and responsible boyfriend. It makes her want to be sick when the red-hot truth steals her attention; he is one of the things she has and would give up again for this memory with House. When she feels a knot in her stomach and bile in her throat that tastes an awful lot like the truth, Cuddy feels House kiss her neck and jaw and temple. She lets him linger and let her eyelids droop. Lucas would do the same if the situation were reversed. This is the lie she tells herself as House draws circles on her exposed tummy.
I just want to be ok, be ok, be ok
I just want to be ok today
I just want to be ok, be ok, be ok
I just want to be ok today
Red block numbers don't lie. The clock reads 6:55AM and House knows that means that he will have to get dressed and leave shortly. Lisa would surely change her mind about all of this when the full realization that she had slept with an employee dawned on her. Goddammit. Of course Greg was fully aware of that once they were back in Princeton it would be expected of Lisa to lie about her sex-capades to superiors and subordinates alike, but Greg figures that if she were truly smart about it she would not breathe a word to anyone about how she had spent the evening with her legs above her Head of Diagnostic Medicine's shoulders. For Cuddy's sake House actually wishes that she could get away with what happened between them last night (repetitively), and into the early morning (numerously), and dragged on into the current moment by keeping quiet or straight up lying to anyone who dare ask. But those feelings were conflicting with another part of him, a bigger and more selfish part, a side of him that wishes Cuddy was his still and in more than just a sexual sense. House would likely give up painkillers and accept clinic duty before he freely admits that he wants Cuddy in a relationship akin to the ones she constantly asks him if he wants to participate in.
Beside him Cuddy shifts and her curls fly everywhere. They tickle his nose and he wonders if his beard felt the same way on her abdomen last night. He doesn't dwell though and instead adjusts his arm so that it is wrapped securely around her bare shoulder blades, her perfectly shaped and sized breasts press up against his own chest, their heartbeats are irregular against one another and he is almost embarrassed to realize that his is beating twice as quickly as hers. In his mind it would make much more sense for Cuddy's heart to be racing since she is the one who will have to face bosses and employees and no doubt Wilson if the information ever leaked and all of the inner-turmoil that goes along with having an affair with the one man she really ought not to but for some reason Greg is feeling more on edge. Maybe the palpitations can be attributed to their closeness, either physical or emotionally. Maybe he was just worried about Cuddy's reaction, whether it be of positive or negative nature. He squeezes his eyes closed tightly until he sees fuzzy spots and colours, until he can't focus on the sound of his or her heartbeat, the scent of him needing a shower like pronto, the upsetting admission that this will likely never happen again and he better milk it for what it was worth. After all, he had been doing it for a good portion of the previous evening.
"Hey Cuddy," Greg whispers with Lisa's head tucked under his chin. He likes it this way, now that he doesn't have to look her in the eye when he says this, now he won't feel as compelled to take it all back.
"I should be going soon, huh?"
The words are ugly and awkward with all of the potential to ruin the mood. From behind her bangs, Lisa peeks up at Greg and runs her left hand down his back while her right remains stuffed between him and the mattress since he is lying on his side, facing her.
"Yes you should." Cuddy tells him but then again there are lots of things they should be doing and a whole hell of a lot that they haven't been.
Her head bows and she draws her knees up so that she is lying in fetal position against his chest because she is honestly afraid of looking him in the eyes. The last time she had done that she was convinced taking him to bed was a brilliant idea and the time after that she almost jumped in the elevator ride up to her suite.
"Is this where the awkward morning after happens?" His voices sounds a whole lot more teasing than he feels and he is proud he can put on a mask so well, he decides to do this until he can pinpoint Cuddy's feelings and how to approach the situation. Right now she is refusing to look at him and he is not sure whether she is ashamed because of him or herself.
"I hope not." Greg hears her say but he does not know that "I hope not" secretly translates into Cuddy is upset since a morning after means that she has to accept that there was an evening before and when you're in a relationship with someone else that is never a good thing.
His arms fall off of her gloriously naked body and he rolls on to his back, right hand clutching at his bad thigh, massaging it without any premeditated thought necessary. He is use to not thinking about the pain, only regarding it as a first nature now.
"Me either," House promises and it is not a lie.
I just want to feel today, feel today, feel today
I just want to feel something today
When she sees Lucas for the first time in two days not much about him as changed outwardly but the way she looks at him is completely contorted. But then again, maybe that is the skewed perception of the cheater she has become. He is as tall as before and his hair is the same shade of brown (although it does look a little shorter upon inspection) but for the most part he is the same man she left that day with a kiss on the lips and a loving parting. The upsetting thing about it all is that this means that she has changed, she is no longer Lucas' trusting, loyal, and committed girlfriend, instead she is the woman who betrayed him and their relationship for the best sex of her life, for a man who will never recuperate her feelings. So what was she supposed to do? Tell Lucas the truth? Never. She couldn't do that, it would ruin her and likely her chances at any kind of happiness from that point on, but more importantly it would break Lucas' heart and he really hadn't done anything wrong.
Sure he did. A quiet but evil voice whispers in her sub-conscious. He wasn't the man you needed him to be. That's why you did what you had to do.
Now that was just ludicrous. What she did was have sex with a man who happened to be a "friend" and an employee and definitely not her boyfriend. In short what she had done was unacceptable and awful, dishonest and frowned upon. But that didn't erase how wonderful it had been.
What you did was wrong. The voice continued to torture, slow and patronizing. You have committed yourself to a man who will never satisfy you, a man who will never love you the way you need, a man who will never understand.
Cuddy is tempted to ask "House?" but that is stupid for two reasons. One being because it is her own mind making up this voice and these questions, a manifestation of her fear and shame. The second reason being that the answer was obvious, she had chosen House, someone who she knew would promise dysfunction.
Admit it, Lisa. Lucas will never be who you need. He will never be Greg House.
Okay, so either she was insane or everything was beginning to make perfect sense. The contradiction frustrating and confusing Cuddy. Stupid guilt complex, she swore to herself. She shut the voice down after that, refusing to listen to the taunting and the mockery, refusing to feel the shame and pain, refusing to blame it all Lucas like her sub-conscious obviously wanted to. Was this what House had felt like before Mayfield? Instantly Cuddy wished she hadn't shared House's secrets with Lucas and in that moment she was sure she was going to vomit. They continued their day as any other with conversation, playing with Rachel, and being intimate in a completely non-sexual way so that Cuddy wouldn't feel so utterly filthy when Lucas touched her skin. She was ashamed to admit that any hand that wasn't House's felt wrong on her body, that any set of eyes was not as blue as his, that any mouth was not as soft and firm and fantastic as his. Sometimes Cuddy would close her eyes and pretend it was House's hands under her shirt or lips on hers and she would ask herself the hard questions when she didn't want to pay attention to what she and Lucas were doing.
Is cheating physically any better than cheating emotionally? Depends. It involves less lies.
Is it wrong to replace Lucas with another man? With House? Yes. Lucas doesn't deserve that and neither does House. Greg should be the first choice.
Who am I really looking out for? Lucas, Greg, myself? Don't know. Doesn't matter anyway, I'm not doing a fine job of taking care of anyone, these days.
Who have I really been unfaithful to? Lucas, Greg, myself? I cheated on Lucas. I've given House mixed signals. I've let myself believe that my lies convince me.
Why cheat? Because I love House.
Why lie? Because I need Lucas.
Am I okay? No.
Will I be? Define "okay".
I just want to know today, know today, know today
Know that maybe I will be ok
Know that maybe I will be ok
Know that maybe I will be ok
Author's Note:
A bit of a shocker, no? In my opinion I tend to write Cuddy in a much nicer light than I did in this piece and I'm surprised with the fact I made her cheat. Actually I began writing this story shortly after I completed the original one-shot "Known Unknowns" and simply forgot all about it until I dug it up one evening (needless to say I was totally shocked to find out I made Cuddy a cheater xD). So I decided to finish it up and post it to see what you all thought :D. Feel free to review on the story, the way I represented the characters, etc. I'm always looking for feedback :D.
With love, CSIAly