I thought about exploring all kinds of "first times" House and Cuddy could have had (meaning, they have sex) during the course of show, for all kinds of reasons… the idea here is about trying to find different circumstances why this would happen, as well as who would initiate it.
Because for "sex" to happen, there needs to be an opportunity (the context), a motive (the pretext), and an "instigator" of sort (the one that makes the first move)
This one that, for now, I'm posting as a one-shot, is set just after "Insensitive" (season 3) - Opportunity: Cuddy's date left. Motive: Horny. Instigator: Cuddy...
Also, this story is for Ally. Just because I owe her an email alert… ;D
** OUT OF OUR SYSTEMS **
First Times series
She liked sex.
She'd never denied that. And tonight, finally, she was about to get some, when he… when that jerk, once again, had ruined it all for her. She was so frustrated and angry! How dare he mess with her life like that? How dare he think he could show up at her place and take the only chance to get laid she'd had in months away from her? God, she was so pissed! And frustrated. She liked Don. Don was a nice guy. Funny, charming, well-educated and…rich. And he was handsome, too. She was willing to have sex with him. Hell, she was about to… Everything was going on so well until… until House had shown up and, as usual, under another one of his annoying, so-called medical pretexts had dragged her outside, forcing her into an argument about… about what, by the way? She couldn't even remember what his excuse was this time. But it didn't matter. In the end, the result was just the same: she'd acted like a fool, playing his game, saying things about Don she didn't even mean to say and now he was gone. And it was all House's fault!
Cuddy was pacing in her living room - stomping would have been more correct - and she was desperately waiting for that pent-up sexual energy to subside, but it wouldn't go away. She'd tried to drink herbal tea. She'd tried to listen to music. She'd even turned the TV on for a while but nothing was the least bit distracting enough. Her mind, she had to face the truth, was just utterly single-tracked on one thing and one thing only: she needed to get off. She briefly thought about taking a bath, maybe masturbating, while she relaxed in scented soap bubbles but she knew it wouldn't give her the release her body was craving. If anything, it would only make her crave more and God, more was the last thing she wanted to be desperate for at the moment…
Damn House and his stupid need to constantly meddle in her life! Why was she even letting him? All this time, she'd been indulging his need to pry, answering his questions, allowing him to know who she was seeing, when she was seeing them…
"There are only two reasons why someone would want to screw with me tonight. Either they're an altruistic, decent person who's worried about my well being or, they want me for themselves."
She thought about the conversation they'd had on her doorstep, how he'd looked at her while she'd said that. His wicked gaze and smile, the way he'd stared down at her, ogling her cleavage without an ounce of unease… Argh, he was driving her positively crazy!
She felt an almost painful spasm contracting her lower abdomen and she stopped pacing abruptly. An urge to squeeze her legs together tightly took hold of her. Before she could even help it, her hand slid along her belly and she pressed her clenched fist against her pelvic bone. House's face smiling teasingly at her popped up in her mind and she jerked her hand away from her upper thighs.
"Bastard," she muttered through gritted teeth, feeling ridiculous and miserable and… horny.
"You left out the third option: Evil bastard who just wants to mess with other people's happiness."
His voice echoed inside her head and a frustrated groan escaped her lips. Well, no. She wasn't going to let him win this time! All that bantering and bickering of theirs had to lead somewhere, for once! Why should it matter anyway? They had a past, an insignificant and distant one, but still, he was not a complete stranger. And he was a friend, well sometimes, when he was not just being that completely obnoxious jerk who got on her nerves and made her want to throw things at him. But she trusted him, somehow. It was a weird feeling, one that felt absolutely unreasonable of her to have - from an outside point of view at least – but she couldn't help it. The truth was she knew what was behind that shell. She'd had a peek at what was boiling underneath once, a long time ago. And it was not as awful as he liked people to think it was…
"Do you like me, House?"
She'd seen it. There, behind his eyes. There was something. Imperceptible maybe, but she knew better…
Without thinking twice – otherwise she'd probably have gone to bed and swallowed one or two sleeping pills before she could truly realize what she was about to do – she picked up her phone and dialed his number. He groaned into the receiver and she felt a slight, almost bitchy satisfaction at the idea that maybe, she had woken him up.
"House, you need to come to my place," she said, with a steady, bossy voice.
"Huh?"
"My place. I want you here," she repeated.
"What's so urgent?" he asked, incredulous.
"I…err, need you to come," she answered, remaining vague, trying not to let her hesitation show through too much.
There was a pause at the other end of the line, during which she could practically picture him frowning in disbelief, trying to process what was happening.
"Cuddy, don't get me wrong," he finally said after a beat, "not that I'm not into threesomes, occasionally, but really, you know, I'm not too fond of that two guys-one girl combination. Usually, I prefer when it's the other w-"
"Just come. Now," she commanded.
"Everything ok?" he asked and his voice suddenly sounded a little bit worried, which sent an oddly relieving shiver through her body that gathered at the center of her core. "Is Dick still here?"
"His name is Don," she corrected. "And he's gone." Because of you, she thought, "You have 15 minutes."
"Geez, you do realize it's almost nine thirty in the evening, right? There's a reason why I don't do night shifts, you know. So if it's about work, I-"
He stopped, realizing he was just reeling off a monolog, the characteristic sound of the hung-up tone echoing at the other end of the line. He stared at his cell in bafflement, with a 'what-the-fuck' look on his face and slid it shut.
"Babe, your bath is ready," a sugary voice called from his bathroom, "scalding, just as you like it."
A blond girl appeared at the doorframe, wearing an outrageously short, low-cut nurse outfit that looked more like a ridiculous Halloween costume than a real professional lab coat. She was all legs and boobs and lips, flaunting them at his face all at once, as she was swaying her hips suggestively in front of him with a knowing smile on her not-so-innocent face.
"I've gotta go," House said, sitting on the edge of his bed to put his sneakers on.
"What?" the bimbo exclaimed, pouting exaggeratedly in perfectly fake disappointment. "But I just got here."
"Yeah, well, sorry. Life sucks," he said dismissively.
He tied his shoes' laces and got up. Then he fished inside his jeans pocket and took a few 20 out of it.
"Here," he said, handing the money to her. "I don't know how long it's gonna take so looks like we need a rain check."
The hooker took the money and slid it in the front pocket of her white coat. She pouted some more.
"Work?" she asked.
"You can stay and soak in the tub if you want," he answered, ignoring her question, "But then, you go."
He walked to the closet in his hallway and grabbed his leather jacket and one of his canes in the golf caddie. The girl followed after him and watched him put the jacket on, standing next to him, conspicuously invading his personal space. She smoothed the leather of the sleeve out with one hand, stroking up and down the side of his arm and he instantly shook her off, almost unconsciously, but in a deliberate enough way that she felt the need to remove her hand from him and take one step back.
"Just close the door on your way out," He told her, his voice neutral and unaffected, before exiting his apartment.
# # # # #
Cuddy swung the door open even before he could knock on it a second time with his cane's handle. Holding it mid-air, he tilted his head to the side and scrutinized her with a quizzical look. She was wearing the same clothes she wore earlier when he'd paid her a completely uncalled-for visit, just to annoy her. He noticed she hadn't put her bra back on quite instantly, too.
"You been standing behind the door this whole time?" he asked, narrowing his eyes at her in this typical what-are-you-hiding-from-me intrigued look of his.
"Come in," she invited, stepping aside to let him enter her house.
House took a few steps inside and stopped in the hallway, standing between her living room on the right and the dining room, to his left. He checked the empty space around him, incredulous, while she leaned against the arched wall that separated the entry from her living room, her hands crossed at the small of her back.
"So, what's the matter, Cuddy? You found a spider in your bedroom and you need my help to crush it before you go to sleep?"
"Don left," she deadpanned, unmoved by his taunting comment.
House's eyebrows arched in mock surprise.
"Well, don't blame me. I'm not the one who brought him home after going out on a date with him. I'm not accountable for whatever scary, naughty things you did to him that had him run away afterwards"
"He left because of you," she specified, already feeling that very particular, very unique tension building between them. "So yes, I'm blaming you."
House stared at her, his curiosity definitely aroused.
"And, if you must know," she added, lifting her chin up and staring back at him defiantly, "we didn't have sex."
A hint of a smile reached his eyes and he leaned forward on his cane.
"You didn't?" he said, barely hiding his relief behind a fake display of empathy.
"No, I didn't. Because of you," she repeated, as if it were the key to everything.
"How's that possible? I wasn't even here!"
"Because," she started, with a resolute tone, "you came here, and then you made that scene outside and-"
"That scene?"
"Yes House, childish scene, and then when I came back inside, Don well, Don decided it was better for him to…"
House's eyes widened in astonishment and his smile grew bigger, showing he was unmistakably reading between the lines, understanding he'd been too much of a competition for Don to handle, which, in turn, completely upset Cuddy.
"Never mind," she snapped. "Bottom line is, had you not shown up tonight, I would have had sex and I haven't."
House frowned and pursed his lips, trying to decide if he should go for cynically amused or completely taken aback.
"Then what? My little visit chased your date away so now you wanna punish me?" he tested. "Ok, hit me. What's it gonna be? One week of clinic duty?"
She held his gaze but didn't answer.
"Two weeks?" He raised his eyebrows, surprised.
Still no answer.
"Oh come on, Cuddy! From what I gathered of Eastern Lube dude, he may have been good-ish in the sack, but surely not worth three weeks of swabbing crotches," he protested theatrically.
"I'm very frustrated," she finally said, glaring at him a little.
"Yeah, welcome to my world," he replied.
"I was going to get laid."
"So was I!" he exclaimed. "Coz, FYI, I was about to take a bath with a very, very caring and devoted nurse when you called."
Cuddy took in a sharp breath and briefly averted her gaze to hide her surprise – or maybe her disappointment? – hoping he hadn't registered it.
"Aww, House," she said, pouting mockingly, "did I ruin your evening with Tuesday hooker?"
"You did. You happy now? Can we call it even?"
"No."
House rolled his eyes skyward and sighed in exasperation.
"Gee, fine. Ok. What do you want, then?"
"I was going to have sex," she told him again. She held her left hand up and touched the tip of her index finger with her thumb. "I was this close," she added and she stared into his wide blue eyes, persistently, until it made him noticeably squirm in discomfort.
"I'm not sure I'm following you." He stuttered, but his eyes were telling the exact opposite. His eyes were clearly saying he perfectly understood what she was implying.
His pupils dilated, and he couldn't help but lick his lower lip as he gulped to swallow back the lump in his throat.
"Why'd you call me?" he suddenly asked, ending the double-entendre once and for all with that simple question.
She smiled flirtatiously at him and fluttered her eyelids a little.
"Because, I trust you House, and you're-"
"Cut the crap," he cut her off abruptly. "Why me?"
"Well," she sighed exasperated, "In case you haven't noticed, I work fourteen hours a day, six days a week. It's not exactly the best way to meet plenty of available guys who'd be willing to date me. Except for Don, who, may I remind you, left. Because of you! So you owe me, House."
He looked at her as if she'd just escaped the loony bin.
"Who are you, and what have you done to Cuddy?" he said, looking everywhere around him in perfect dramatic fashion.
"House, you and I…" she hesitated, searching for her words, "we already did it once. It doesn't have to mean anything. It's just… sexual release. You need it, I need it. So why not?"
"You're high, right?" he asked, shaking his head in complete, utter disbelief. "Did you smoke weed with that guy while he was here?"
"House, I'm perfectly fine. It's just sexual release," she repeated, pushing herself off the wall and taking a step toward him. "We just… need to get this out of our systems."
"This?"
She waved her hand back and forth in the space between them.
"This," she confirmed.
"There's nothing here," he tried to deny, still hardly processing what was happening.
"House, cut the crap yourself! You showed up earlier not because you wanted to discuss your patient with me. You showed up here because you couldn't stand the idea of me spending the night with a man. It drives you crazy, just thinking about it. That's why you feel the irrepressible need to screw with me."
"Screw with you, yeah. Not screw you," he puffed, rolling his eyes.
"We're friends, House," she finally said, with a soft but serious tone, and he could see in her gaze that she meant it. "Friends do that for each other."
Did they? Well, surely, some parts of him, at least one inside his pants that he was very well aware of at that moment, wanted that. But it was so very wrong in every possible way. Already now. And he really didn't want to find out how even worse it would undeniably end up being if he yielded to his basic male instincts, even though he could almost distinctively hear that specific hormonally driven voice scream inside his brain to take what there was to take and just shut up.
"Ask BOB," he however told her, inwardly praying she'd let him go as he wasn't sure he would be able to resist much longer.
"Bob?" she repeated, incredulous.
"Your Battery-Operated Boyfriend. I'm sure it's a very devoted one."
"I don't have any-" she started to deny.
"Tssk, tssk, Cuddy. You forgot I searched your home when that Latino slave of yours fell off your roof last fall," he reminded her and then gave her a knowing wink.
An adorable flush colored her cheeks and Cuddy looked down for a second to hide her embarrassment. But she promptly put herself together and tilted her face up again, looking him right in the eyes.
"Whatever!" she dismissed, her voice low but unapologetic. "One night, House. Then we forget it ever happened."
God, what an annoyingly sexy, little determined thing she was! He stared at her, mouth agape, for a long, long time. Then it hit him. Forcing a laugh, he said: "All right, ok, you got me. Where'd you put the mikes? The cameras?"
"What are you talking about?"
"This," he said angrily, mimicking her earlier gesture and waving his hand between them, "is a huuuuge mistake! You know it and I know it. Which is why I know this, is just you, trying to trick me into saying stupid things that you'll use against me later. I assume it's, somehow, your twisted idea of a payback and I get it. I messed with you, you're messing with me. Let's all have a good laugh before you and I both return to whatever plans we had for tonight-"
She sent him a glare and it instantly silenced him.
"Ha-ha, very funny, House," she said, not laughing at all.
Realizing he didn't especially phrase what he wanted to say in the best way there was, he shrugged and glared back at her, just out of principle. "I mean, yeah, ok, I may have a few more openings than you do… Although, if it can make you feel better, I had to send nurse Bambi home when you called, so technically, I'm as frustrated as you are right now."
"Nurse Bambi," Cuddy huffed, smirking.
"She's not a real nurse," House clarified half-serious, half-teasing.
"Really?" she scoffed. "Why am I not surprised?"
"Anyway, you got what you wanted: I sabotaged your romantic evening with Dick, you ruined mine with Bambi. It's a tie."
"House, you're already here…" she started.
Yeah. He was. He was right here, standing in front of her, and hell, that black V-cut cashmere sweater she was wearing, with nothing underneath – as her very taunting, very conspicuously erect nipples were giving evidence – was slowly, but irremediably, driving him crazy. Not to mention that he was dangerously running out of excuses.
"Listen," he said, with more sincerity than he'd wished to display, "we provoke each other, we drive each other mad, we even tease each other in that way sometimes, but that's all there is because we both know that if it got any further, we'd be cutting our throats open with our teeth within a week!"
"You thought about this," she said, smiling mischievously at him and coming closer.
"Jesus, fuck, Cuddy! Are you listening to anything I'm saying?"
"Yes," she whispered, with a throaty voice that instantly and painfully got him semi-hard, just at the sound of it. She grabbed one of his hands that was dangling along his thighs and stroked it with the pad of her thumb. He stared down, unable to move, unable to remove his hand from her gentle grasp. "I heard you. You said that we could cut our throat open with our teeth. How do you think it'd feel, House, my teeth biting at your throat?"
He closed his eyes and took a deep, deep breath. He already knew how it felt, goddammit! Her teeth in his neck, nipping. Her nails in his flesh, scratching. Her breath in his ears, panting… And that's why it was becoming nearly impossible – no, just plain impossible – to resist her one more second. He opened his eyes and stared at her, intensely, as if he wanted to drill a hole into her skull with the power of his gaze only.
"One night?" he said. "Then we forget about it?"
"One night," she confirmed. "Then we go back to our lives, me telling you what you cannot do, you doing it anyway…"
She smiled and there was genuine amusement in her smile; amusement, and something else, too. Tenderness?
"So now what?" he asked her, getting straight to the point. "Are we supposed to do it… here? On…" he looked around and pointed at the dining room with his chin, "the table?" he offered, half-convinced.
She chuckled. "No, idiot… Although, hmm, tables are… never mind," she said, shaking her head. "we can go to my bedroom."
She came even closer to him, invading his personal space, literally occupying every inch of it with her slim, yet curvy feminine body. Her hips were touching his upper thighs and her chest was almost pressed against his broad, masculine torso. She tilted her head up and looked him in the eyes, absolutely silent, her gaze conveying her intense yearning better than any words would have. He stood there, perfectly immobile, staring down at her face, his mouth slightly open, and he blinked rapidly a few times, forcing himself to keep his focus. She lifted her hands to his shoulders and slid them under the hem of his leather jacket.
"Why don't you take this off first," she whispered, pulling on the heavy, worn material and sliding it past his shoulders and along his arms, following the path of the sleeves with her slender hands all the way down his wrists, stroking his biceps and forearms.
The jacket fell on the tile floor with an odd thud and, as Cuddy started to bend down to pick it up, House promptly seized her by the arm and forced her to stand up again, repositioning her just where she was merely seconds before, right there, in front of him, her body alongside his body, radiating a warmth he was already getting very much addicted to. She silently questioned him with a longing gaze, and when her eyes, hooded with something that unmistakably resembled desire, met his, he felt another rush of blood pulse in his growing erection.
"It's not too late to change your mind," he told her, his voice barely above a whisper.
"Bedroom. Now," she answered, and there was not a hint of hesitation in her command.
She took his hand inside hers and he let her guide him to her bedroom, limping by her side. The place was bathed in a strange, dark orange halo, the only source of light coming from two lamps, one on a nightstand, the other one on the chest of drawers opposite the foot of her bed. Red, silky scarves had been thrown atop the lampshades and he tried to chase the disturbing thought that this deliberately warm and sensual atmosphere had been probably arranged for man other than him. She kicked off her black heels and took a step in his direction. Now standing barefoot, the top of her head was just slightly above his collarbone and she suddenly looked so small and fragile in front of him, it made his heart swell with an familiar, yet long lost feeling. He so wanted to take her in his arms, it almost hurt.
"Wow, Dick doesn't know what he's missing!" he joked, to hide his discomfort.
"His name is Don," she corrected for the umpteenth time, sighing in annoyance at the ill-timed mention of the guy, as his name really was the last thing she had in mind at the moment.
"You realize this is kinda awkward, right?" House said, peering intensely at her.
She scowled and tentatively came closer. He noticed the hip sway, barely accentuated, but just deliberate enough to be arousing and damn, aroused, he definitely was. The throbbing pressure of his hard shaft against the front of his jeans was becoming a torturing ache.
"No second thoughts, Cuddy? I'm a guy, you know. Once this gets started, I won't really be able to take 'no' for an answer," he warned, in a somewhat touching way.
She smiled seductively at him and reached out her hand to place it tentatively on his chest.
"No second thoughts," she assured. "But God, House, just stop talking, and let's get on with it!"
Saying this, she closed the last bit of space that was still keeping them apart. She rose on her tiptoes and stretched her neck to claim his mouth. House stood petrified at first, but when her lips touched his, biting and sucking voraciously, when she thrust her tongue into his mouth, he instantly knew he was already way beyond the point of no return. He kissed her back, just as greedily as she was kissing him and cupped her face inside his hands. Cuddy moaned through his lips and it sent a shiver down his spine. Hurriedly, impatiently, almost clumsily, she grabbed his shirt and clasped the fabric, struggling to undo the buttons with one hand, while her other hand groped around and found the zipper of his jeans, tugging, pulling, and almost ripping it open.
"What are you doing?" he said, panting against her lower lip, forcing himself to resist the urge of kissing her again.
"I'm undressing you."
"No, you're not," he declared, grabbing her hands and pushing them aside gently, but firmly.
"What?" she blurted out, suddenly freezing.
"I don't know how you usually treat the guys you're having sex with, but that's not the way it's gonna happen now."
She took a step back and looked at him with a slightly panicked expression.
"I, err… I'm sorry. You're right, I don't think this is a good idea after all," she said, looking mortified and desperately trying to hide it.
He smiled, somehow reassuringly, and took a step in her direction, again closing the distance between them.
"Actually, I don't think there's anything wrong with that idea," he said with a hint of tease in his voice. "What's definitely wrong, however, is the execution…"
"What do you mean?" she blew, hesitantly.
"You're rushing things, Cuddy."
"Well, excuse me while I thought we needed to be naked to have sex!" she snapped, somewhat angrily.
"And naked, we will be," he told her coaxingly, still smiling. "But not like that. You made it perfectly clear that you want this to be a one-time thing, but I have every intention of making the best of it, for as long as it's gonna last. And, trust me Cuddy, this," he gestured between them with his hand, "is not going to be a quick fuck. You may think that it's what you want, but I'm not going to give you that."
"Why?" she challenged.
"Because you know you and I can do much better than that…"
She studied his face for a while, biting her lower lip sheepishly and looking uncomfortable – or was it flustered? - and then shook her head.
"Like I said, this is a bad idea, this-"
He put his hand on her hip and pulled her into his embrace. His gesture took her off guard and she stopped mid-sentence, mouth agape. The next second, he was already nuzzling her neck, brushing his nose against the soft hollow of her pulse point.
"Shh," he cooed, his voice hoarse with desire, "you called me, Cuddy. There's a reason why you did, and you know it."
He kissed her then, softly, his lips merely touching her skin and it drove her crazy. She lost track of her thoughts, and suddenly her brain was completely incapable of seeing any rational reason why she should have prevented this huge mistake from happening.
"House," she whispered, stretching her neck higher to give him better access.
He trailed kisses along the line of her jaw, his warm lips burning her skin with desire.
"Besides," he murmured in her ear, "while I'm sure you don't exactly live like a nun, you don't have that much sex either. I would know it if you did."
She tried to straighten up in his arms to protest, but he was keeping her close to him and his kisses in her neck, the touch of his sweet lips on her, the rough sensation of his stubble, scraping her skin… eventually, she just forgot why she should protest at all.
"We need to get you ready," he whispered again, his lips brushing her earlobe. "I remember how tight you are and I'm sure you remember how it felt the first time…"
She felt the familiar twinge of desire between her legs, and her knees went weak beneath her. She almost lost her balance and seized his broad shoulders with her hands, clinging to him to prevent her from falling.
"House," she said again, and this time it sounded like a whimper, almost a plea.
He wrapped his arms around her waist and his hands found her skirt's zipper at the small of her back. Deftly, he slowly slid it open and the skirt fell along her toned legs to the floor.
"Lie down," he instructed, guiding her half-naked body toward the edge of the bed.
She resisted at first, looking more puzzled than unwilling, but then she sat down on the mattress and lay down on her back, her feet dangling along the bedspring.
"Higher," he said.
She wiggled to position her entire body on the mattress, head on the pillow, while he took his sneakers and socks off. As he straightened up, he saw she was lifting the hem of her sweater and he stopped her, just as the black cashmere fabric was uncovering her midriff.
"No. Keep it on."
She frowned, a mix of disapproval and frustration, but she complied and dropped the hem of the sweater, letting it fall down on her taut belly. She lay back again and she watched him take his shirt off, that he threw offhandedly on the floor behind him, then his jeans.
An undeniable feeling of oddness was filling the air, as she watched him limp to the foot of the bed and stand there, looking down at her with an undecipherable smile. He was half-naked, wearing only his boxers and the bulge inside them left no doubt about the way his body was unmistakably ready to give her the kind of release she was craving. She sucked her bottom lip inside her mouth and took a deep breath, feeling the warm proof of her own arousal pool between her legs and soak her panties.
House registered the change of rhythm in Cuddy's breathing and he leaned down, putting one knee on the mattress for leverage as he bent lower and shifted his body weight forward, resting his palms flat on each side of her hips. He slowly flexed his arms, his face descending upon her lower abdomen and she couldn't help but wiggle a little to glide her pelvis higher and away from him. Resting his elbows on the mattress, he curled his fingers around her curvy hips with his now free hands, his thumbs pressing on her hipbones to make her stop fidgeting. Her belly was rising up and down rapidly and he could hear her heavy breaths above him. He hooked the waistband of her panties with his fingers and tugged them past her round, perfect ass and lower down her thighs. As soon as she felt her sex bare and exposed, so close to him, she wiggled again, and pressed her thighs together, feeling a little self-conscious. He smiled at her adorable and unexpected shyness and bent a little lower, tantalizingly, almost touching her with his chin. He was so used to seeing her rule the world of Princeton Plainsboro Teaching Hospital, with her long strides, her bossy voice, her confident commands, he'd forgotten how much of an act it all must have been, seeing that she was just human, most of the time alone when it came to make big decisions that could impact the lives of hundreds of people. It touched him, kind of out of the blue and, for no reason other than that he quit being an asshole to her just for once, it made him want to be selfless and giving. For her. He gently pressed on her thighs to spread them open a little, enough for him to position his knees between her calves. She didn't resist but he could feel she was somehow struggling with herself to let go. When he leaned down and brushed his lips against her groin, her hips instantaneously bucked up and he saw her grip the sheets and clench her fists around the white linen cloth.
"House, no…" she protested unconvincingly, short of breath. "We're not… supposed to… we…"
"You wanna get off or you don't?" he reminded her teasingly.
His ran the tip of his index finger along her slit, barely brushing her silky skin with a feather light stroke.
"I do," she gasped, and a languorous moan escaped her lips. "Yes."
"Good," he said, with a raspy groan. "Then trust me, I'm gonna give you exactly what you want."
He heard her moan again, an incoherent response that sounded like a complaint, and he smiled along her inner thigh.
"Do you trust me?"
There was a beat, during which he could hear the sound of her heavy breaths echo in the room.
"Do you?" he pressed.
"Yes," she puffed.
He couldn't say if it was the sound of her voice, unquestionably giving him her consent, that reassured her, but she finally relaxed under his touch as she unclenched her fists, and spread her legs slightly wider. Now that her body language had given him silent access, he slowly pushed the length of his middle finger into her heated core and her inner walls instantly clamped around it tightly.
"My God, Cuddy, how long since the last time you had sex?" he exclaimed.
She propped herself up on her elbows and stared down at him disapprovingly.
"That's none of your business!" she groaned.
"How long?" he insisted.
"A... few… weeks" she panted.
He started to pull his finger out of her and she squirmed in frustration.
"All right! A few months," she confessed, covering her face with her hands. "Why d'you think I called you!" she said, upset.
"I feel so used!" he fake-whined.
She smacked him on the shoulder and he pushed his finger back inside her, leisurely pumping in and out of her. After a few strokes, he carefully added another digit and she literally collapsed backward, her head buried deep into the pillow. With two fingers inside her wet heat, House nuzzled her pubic bone and rubbed his nose through the light patch of hair, just above her folds. The contact of his face against the most intimate part of her body, and the sudden, absolute awareness of him there, almost made her instantly combust with an overwhelming combination of desire, lust, and need. She jerked her hips up and, in response, he swiftly pinned her back down with a firm push of his face against her sex. He parted her with his tongue and sucked her clit through his lips, licking and barely nibbling to elicit that blissful sensation of pleasure, exclusively focused on making it irrepressibly build up deep within her only. He was right there with her, feeling her every move against his mouth, experiencing her every spasm with his fingers and when he could feel she was about to climax, he picked up his rhythm and kept sucking, licking and nibbling her clit faster, while his fingers kept stretching her core deeper. He heard her gasp, pant, moan, and beg for more until, suddenly, driven by a totally uncontrollable reflex, Cuddy cupped the back of his skull with her hands, and grabbed a full strand of hair, tugging upward ruthlessly as if she needed the overwhelming sensation that pervaded her to stop instantly, but then pressing down to urge him to keep going, as if she wished the elation would never end. House propped himself up on his elbows and gently shook his head to free himself from her grasp. He pulled his fingers out of her and amidst her rapid, agitated puffs, she protested against the feeling of sudden emptiness with a groan as House rolled over her leg on his side to give her body all the space it needed to absorb pleasure.
Cuddy curled her fingers around her sex and squeezed her legs shut, imprisoning her hand against her heat, as the forceful wave of orgasm rippled through her body, shaking her with trembling jolts of ecstasy. She kept on wriggling onto the mattress, her hips bucking up, the small of her back leaving the mattress, and arching her spine in a sensual curve. House straightened up, his eyes never leaving the image of her next to him, and he swiftly got rid of his boxers. Now entirely naked, he lay on top of her and aligned his body with hers, face to face.
Shifting to the side and resting his body weight on one hip, he gripped the hand she was squeezing between her legs and mightily forced her to remove it from her pelvis. She fought his grasp at first, her need to prolong her bliss selfishly turned inward but eventually, she let him guide it away from her inner thigh. He repositioned himself on top of her, propping himself up on his forearms, and looked down at her, mesmerized by her feline, voluptuous beauty. Her eyes were closed, her head tipped backward against the pillow, and she was riding the last quaking spasms of her orgasm. He bent down and softly kissed her on her temple and she jerked her head up, ending face to face with him. Her eyes opened wider, as if she'd only then become aware of his presence, hovering over her.
He slid one hand underneath her sweater, and caressed her midriff, applying the gentlest of strokes on her skin until he reached one of her breasts and cradled it inside his large palm. With his other hand, he found her core again and parted her folds, pressing his thumb against her swollen nub. She was so wet and warm. He looked her right in the eyes and began rubbing it again, feeling her flesh pulsate against his finger.
"Don't… do… that," she begged, and it was impossible to know if she was talking about his finger against her clit, or his gaze piercing intensely into her eyes, almost reaching to her soul.
She turned her head to the side and closed her eyes and he nuzzled her neck, resuming his relentless, pleasuring caresses until another orgasm, more abrupt than the previous one, came crashing into her, and she came again, violently, her nerve endings extremely sensitive and responsive after her first high. She griped his wrist with both her hands and anchored herself to him, forcing his hand to stop moving and trying to catch her breath.
After a while, she opened her eyes and when she met his gaze, scrutinizing her, she gasped, visibly uneasy, and squirmed beneath him.
"Don't look at me like that!" she said, blushing.
"Not exactly the best moment to act all shy, Cuddy," he admonished her with a smile.
She closed her eyes again and her light blush turned crimson red.
"Look at me," he demanded, his raspy tone heavy with longing.
She froze at the sound of his voice, and because of the sudden quietness of their bodies, she became aware of his nakedness against her, as she felt his hard member pressed against her hipbone, skin to skin. She lifted her eyelids and locked eyes with him.
"I'm here because you wanted me here," he reminded her, unruffled and non-judgmental. "The deal didn't specify anything about not making eye contact."
She thrashed underneath him and forcefully pressed her palms on his chest to push him off her as she glowered at him with a slight trace of hurt in her eyes.
"Don't talk to me like I'm one of your hookers!" she hissed through clenched teeth.
"Don't be an idiot, Cuddy. None of what's happening here is even remotely related to a hooker's deal," he told her evenly, because it was simply the truth.
He watched her fume in contained anger, as she was trying to keep her poise and another pang of desire hit him deep inside his chest. He wanted her to realize that the way she was making him feel, and above all, the way with which, in turn, he wanted to make her feel, was way beyond anything that usually defined the nature of his soulless encounters with hookers. He would have never looked at any of them the way he felt the need to look at her right in that moment. He would have never bothered to take care of their needs, before his own, purely selfish ones. And, most of all, he would certainly never have taken such attentive care and devotion to make sure they were rightfully fulfilled. He leaned down to her face and kissed her chin softly. She turned her head to the side and he kissed her cheekbone, then the line of her jaw, and then her earlobe. She turned her head upward again to face him and planted her gaze in his, intensely staring into his big blue eyes. He stared back and they didn't move for what seemed like an eternity.
"You're so beautiful," he whispered, and again, he said it, almost without thinking, because that was just the truth.
He heard her suck in a sharp breath and something he couldn't decipher passed behind her eyes.
"You cannot say that…" she said, with a hint of regret in her voice.
"Why? It's true."
"It's just… not…"
"Cuddy, don't think. Don't analyze," he told her, but it felt to him as if he was speaking to himself. "Just take what you need to take. Take it from me. Just this one time. I understand. It's ok. Just let it go. It's ok," he reassured her with a raspy voice.
He could almost feel the palpable tension radiate from her and picture the inner struggle against her mixed, antagonistic emotions that was racking her brain. He saw her blink rapidly a few times and his first instinct was to bend down to kiss her eyelids. He didn't want to give her more time to over think, didn't want to be a witness of what he feared would happen if guilt and shame started to invade her. So he kissed her eyelids. Softly. Then he kissed the tip of her nose, then her cheek, her forehead, and her nose again. And when he finally allowed himself to claim her mouth, she wrapped her arms around his shoulders, her slender hands sliding at the base of his nape, while her fingers combed through his hair and relief pervaded him. She parted her lips and gave him access to her tongue, and he took it, and twirled it around his, slowly at first, then more greedily until they both felt the need to break away to gasp for air.
He took advantage of this fleeting moment to reach for the hem of her sweater and pulled it hastily past her head, before throwing it away on the floor. Just knowing that she was finally, entirely naked beneath him squeezed a groan of boiling impatience inside his throat. He lifted himself up above her and tilted his face down to admire her body, drink her in and relish the sight of her breasts, rising up as she was inhaling heavily and falling down with each exhale. She wrapped one of her legs around his thigh, the heel of her foot pressing against the back of his knee and she grinded her hips against his erection until he thought he might overdose on lust. He caressed her everywhere, roaming her skin with his large hands and she scratched his back from his shoulder blades down to his butt cheeks, pulling him down forcefully, telling him without words that her body was craving the ultimate connection. In spite of all the desire that he felt was ready to burst out of him, he still found enough strength in him to force himself to stop moving and resist her call.
"Condom," he panted in her ear.
"What?"
"Do you have a condom?" he repeated.
She looked up at him and her mouth opened to say something but she averted her gaze instead. He rolled his eyes and puffed.
"It's ok," he said in his most reassuring tone, at the same time irrepressibly starting to freak out a little at the possibility that she might say no. "I think it's pretty obvious from the look of things that you had everything perfectly planned for your hot date with Eastern Lube guy, so please, Cuddy, don't act like you don't know what I'm talking about and tell me you have condoms somewhere in your house. Preferably in this room. Pretty, pretty pleaaaaase."
She grinned mischievously at him and bit her lower lip.
"In the nightstand's drawer. The one on the left," she finally said, her smile growing bigger when he sighed heavily, not even bothering to hide his relief.
"Thank God, I knew your control freak tendencies could come in handy one day!" he exclaimed, leaning to his left and retrieving one precious foil packet from the drawer.
He ripped it open with his teeth and pulled the rubber out of it, before sitting down, struggling to find enough a comfortable position to put it in place. She sat up too and kneeled in front of him.
"Gimme," she said, holding out her hand.
"I've got this," he answered with his head down.
She shoved her palm under his face, conspicuously blocking the view and repeated: "Give it to me. I wanna do it."
He froze and slowly lifted his face to her. He caught sight of her glowing eyes as she was smiling one of her devastating smiles and it completely hypnotized him. He docilely handed her the condom and she came closer to him, touching his knees with her knees.
She took his erection in one hand and he inhaled a sharp intake of breath, squeezing his eyes shut and clenching his jaw tight. When he opened his eyes again, the thin ring of latex was wrapped around the head of his shaft and she rolled it down its length slowly, deliberately stroking and applying pressure with her fingers.
"I remember how big you are," she whispered unashamed, looking at her hand wrapped around his hard cock. Then she lifted her face and looked him right in the eyes. "I remember how it felt inside me."
She pressed at the base of his erection ever so slightly and relaxed her grip, before pressing again just a little higher.
"Cuddy," he groaned. "I'm two orgasms behind, here. So if you keep doing this, I can't be held responsible for whatever might result of it."
"I have every faith in your ability to hold back long enough to get me off again," she coaxed, smiling.
He took a deep, quivering breath and narrowed his eyes at her. She leaned forward slightly and stopped right in front of his face, her lips merely an inch away from his lips.
"I know you can be really self-controlled when you want to," she blew with a whisper against the pulp of his lower lip.
His eyes widened and he stared at her with a mix of pure wonderment and feral desire. She opened her mouth slightly and stuck out the tip of her tongue to lick her bottom lip and, right there and then, it overpowered him. He seized her by the shoulders, enveloping the round shape of her upper arms in his large hands and he pushed her backward, making her topple underneath him. They struggled briefly to disentangle their lower limbs, and find the right position for their bodies to connect and he pressed his hips against her abdomen, pushing her legs open with his knee. She spread her thighs and he reached for his cock to guide it at the wet, silky entry of her core.
Propped down on his forearms, he pressed his elbows on each side of her arms and cupped her face with his hands. He planted his deep blue gaze into hers and he lowered his hips down, sliding the head of his shaft between her folds before pushing the first inch of his length inside her. Cuddy gasped and her mouth stayed open as she stared up at him with her eyes wide.
"Does that hurt?" he asked with concern, and he instantly started to pull out carefully.
She grabbed his butt cheeks and squeezed them tight as she pressed down with all her might.
"Dammit House!" she groaned. "I'm not a virgin anymore. Just… don't… you… dare… stop," she panted, as he started to slide inside her again.
Within every inch that he pushed, excruciatingly slowly inside her, oh so tight, warm heat, House thought he might come like a horny, inexperienced teenager. When he reached the hilt and felt her inner walls almost sheathe his entire length, he closed his eyes and took a deep breath, inwardly praying to not lack any of that self-control of his she'd dared him to show her. He hadn't even started to move and she'd already almost killed him with that incomparable, unique feel of her around him.
"You feel so good."
He tensed up, taken aback by the sound of his voice when he realized he'd just said that out loud.
"House, please, you need to move…" she said, her voice a hoarse prayer. "I'm dying here."
"Gimme a minute," he growled, clenching his jaw.
"House," she repeated beseechingly, and she arched the small of her back, deliberately pressing her hips down on the mattress and pulling herself out of him a little.
She was calling for a reaction on his part and he instantly gave it to her by grabbing her ass with both hands and pinning her down, as he thrust back deep into her. He maintained his grip firm on her ass and rested his forehead on hers while she dug her nails into his shoulders and clutched hard. When he was sure she'd accommodated to his size, when he could feel it, he slowly pulled half his length out, then slowly slid back inside, hitting that spot deep inside of her, again. Then he slid out of her once more, almost completely, and did it again, burying himself inside her. Slowly.
"Oh God, yes!" she moaned. "Again. Just like that…"
And he complied. Again. And again. After a few careful, languorous penetrations, he allowed himself to seek after his own pleasure and he picked up the pace of his hip sways, pulling out faster, and pushing in harder. Faster with every withdrawing heave back, harder with every slamming thrust forth. He watched her attentively, almost reverently, heedful to take every one of her reaction in, instantly adjusting to its meaning, and giving her exactly what her body was claiming from his. He brought her just right there, near the edge, almost hurtling her over, and then, without a warning, he stopped. He lifted himself up on his palms and stared down at her. She was panting, her jaw slack, and her head arched back into the pillow, and when she glared silently at him for abruptly depriving her of deliverance he smiled roguishly and resumed his rocking, back and forth movements, starting all over again, with intoxicatingly slow thrusts, before changing the rhythm and shoving into her faster.
Self-control, she'd challenged him.
In all the years he'd spent alone, barely getting the biological release his body needed with a few flavorless call girls a month, he'd learned every way there was to tame his sexual hungering, even silence it when he had to. Music, drugs, alcohol, medical puzzles, he knew all kinds of tricks to occupy his mind, detour his focus, and forget about his cravings… But now, against all odds, as he was holding the exact object of that craving in his arms, he understood there was no need to hold back. That he could allow himself, just that one time, to let go. She'd called him so he would give her what she needed. And he was, then, doing exactly that. But, he could take it from her, too. He could take what she, and only she, could give him. She didn't have to know, and he didn't have to tell her. He just needed to pretend it didn't matter, that he was just there for her, and that what they were doing, and doing amazingly well, didn't mean anything…
He slid one strong, muscled arm under her shoulder blades and lifted her off the mattress lightly, just enough to press her chest closer to him and buried his face in her neck, to smell the scent of her arousal, let the sound of her moans vibrate against his ears and feel the warmth of her panting breaths against his skin. Cuddy wrapped her slender arms around his waist and joined her hands at the small of his back, clinging to him, as she let him carry her there. He kept rocking his hips on and on and on, until the orgasmic fever took hold of them both. The familiar sensation spread all over him, at the same time that he felt her starting to tremble beneath him. Then her moans became louder and soon turned into cries and she tightened her grasp on his back so he shoved harder, with every remnant of energy he still had within him, to stay with her, be there with her, and prolong their blissful connection a little longer.
"House, oh God, I… love you…" - "Cuddy, fuck, I… love… you."
He collapsed on top of her and froze, paralyzed, as he felt her tense in his arms. They'd said it in unison, at the exact same time, while they were both too overwhelmed to hold it back and think about consequences. But now it was out there and, while silence was filling the room, it seemed like they could still hear the words echo against the walls.
House had nuzzled her neck and Cuddy's face was buried in the hollow of his collarbone, but eventually, as the waves of their orgasms slowly subsided, they had to release their tight grip and break away from their embrace. House pulled out of her carefully and rolled to the side, lying next to her on his back. He got rid of the used condom and they both stared at the ceiling in silence for a long time.
"What was that?" Cuddy finally asked, her breath still heavy with lust, and her question could have referred to anything, or just to that thing, but House would have rather avoided talking about the latter.
"I think they call it an orgasm," he said, in his trademark, smartass fashion.
She flung her arm in the air and smacked him loosely on the stomach with the back of her hand. He turned his head to the side and glanced at her. He only caught a glimpse of her profile but he saw the sated smile that was drawn on her lips. She turned her head to the side too and when their eyes met, her smile slightly faded and she bit her lips, before averting her eyes. Wiggling a little, she grabbed the hemline of the bedspread, and pulled on it, swiftly sliding underneath to cover her nudity. Though he was not particularly feeling ashamed of his own nakedness, House could sense they'd reached that peculiar moment, as a fleeting feeling of awkwardness started floating in the air so he grabbed a pillow and covered his groin with it. He sat up straight and crossed his legs at the ankles, looking straight in front of him. Cuddy sighed and he bit his tongue inside his mouth, inhaling a deep breath through his nostrils.
"If we were at my place, I'm pretty sure I would have one helluva glass of Jim Beam right now," he said, trying to sound casual. "And a cigar maybe…"
"You don't even smoke."
"On special occasions, I do," he answered, without thinking.
The awkwardness noticeably rose up a notch and he could feel her body squirm next to his. He clutched the corner of the pillow and dug his fingernails into the fluffy material.
"I don't have any Bourbon," she suddenly said after a while, "but I can make us some tea."
She got up before he could even move a muscle. Tugging at the bedspread to slide it away from the bed, she swiftly wrapped it around her, hiding her luscious curves under an artistically offhand hang. He watched her as she tiptoed toward the door with undeniable grace, but it still felt to him like she was beating a hasty retreat so, just as she seized the doorknob, he called after her.
"Jesus Christ, Cuddy, I don't want any goddamn tea!" he shouted, somewhat angrily.
She froze, her back to him, and stood immobile in front of the door. Then she removed her hand from the handle and turned around.
"Come here," he said gently, patting the sheet beside him.
She hesitated, wriggled a little, but didn't move.
"Cuddyyyyy!" he whined theatrically. "Come on."
She finally came closer, but instead of lying back next to him as he wanted her to, she stood at the bedside a few inches away from the edge of the mattress. She bit her lips nervously and tightened the bedspread around her chest.
"House, about what…."
"Don't ruin it," he cut her off.
"But that… thing we said," she insisted.
"You mean that thing you said," he tried to joke.
She sent him a warning glare and he shrugged, helpless. He looked down at his hands crossed atop the pillow that rested on his lower abdomen.
"You said we needed to get this out of our systems," he told her with a low voice.
He looked up to meet her gaze and forced a smile but it came out as an odd, clumsy grimace.
"Don't be an ass, House," she warned. "Not now."
He sighed and looked down again.
"Listen, that… thing we said," he finally admitted, avoiding her gaze, "it… well, you know, just like I know… it didn't mean anything."
"Is that what you think?" she asked her voice just a little higher than necessary.
He looked up and locked eyes with her.
"Yeah," he answered, with a slight edge of sadness in his voice.
She stared intensely at him and nodded imperceptibly.
"Yeah," she repeated with the same low-spirited tone. "It didn't mean anything."
"Absolutely. Of course!" he exclaimed extravagantly. "That was just a pure 'heat of the moment' thing."
"Heat of the moment," she echoed.
"There's no need to freak out," he continued, his voice getting steadier.
"None!" she stated firmly.
A heavy silence fell in the room and they both sighed in perfectly faked relief.
Cuddy took a small step closer to the bed and sat down next to him.
"Do you want me to go?" he asked after another while.
"Do you want to go?" she said, unable to hide her slight disappointment.
"Not if want me to stay."
"Do you want to stay?"
"Geez, Cuddy!" he exclaimed, rolling his eyes.
"I don't mind if you stay a little longer," she finally confessed tentatively.
"Ok," he said with a smile.
He grabbed her by the wrist and gently pulled her down into his arms. She didn't resist and let him guide her alongside him, instantly crawling back into his embrace, almost instinctively. She buried her nose in his chest and he wrapped one arm around her shoulders, tracing the outlines of her skull with the palm of his other hand, without touching her, just caressing the air just above her dark curls.
"What happened tonight was just a one-time thing," she suddenly reminded him, straightening up to scrutinize his face.
He pressed his chin onto his chest to look at her and smiled.
"House, I'm serious. We can't talk about this to anyone," she summoned. "Not even to Wilson."
He stared at her with a "duh" face.
"Promise me," she demanded solemnly.
"Not even to tell him about that amazing thing I did that got you all wild and panting?" he teased, waggling his eyebrows playfully.
She glowered at him, but she couldn't hide her smile.
"Don't worry Cuddy," he reassured her, serious again. "My lips are sealed."
"Thank you," she said meaningfully.
"Don't mention it." He briefly averted his gaze to hide the brimming flow of disconcerting emotions that threatened to overwhelm him.
She propped herself on one elbow, her cheek cupped in one of her hands, and looked up at him with a serene gaze.
"And everything will go back to normal tomorrow. As if nothing ever happened," she recited, after a beat.
"Yeah, ok," he replied a bit edgily. "No need to spell it out for me. I got it. And I told you it was fine. That was just a one-time thing. I'm a big boy, I think I can survive…"
She looked behind her at the digital clock on the nightstand.
"You sure?"
"Yeah, I'm sure," he grumbled, pushing her away from him and sitting up. "I better go."
He glided toward the edge of the bed, with his back to her, and struggled to stand because of his bad leg. She caught him by the wrist before he had time to get up. He slowly turned around and frowned, staring at her quizzically.
"It's not even midnight yet," she purred with a flirtatious voice.
His eyes widened and he gaped at her in astonishment.
"Little demanding thing, are we?" he said, a grin irrepressibly drawing on his lips.
"I told you, House. I like sex," she stated, beautifully unashamed.
He rolled his eyes and puffed. "Oh really? I haven't noticed…"
"Well then, I think you need to focus better." She slid on the mattress to come closer to him and the bedspread that was wrapped around her conveniently dropped loose, uncovering one of her breasts. He peered, mesmerized, at the perfect ivory curve and thought he hadn't even had time to pay all the attention he wanted to pay to her breasts. Suddenly, an irrepressible need to lavish them with his tongue, graze her nipples with his teeth and suck them into his mouth invaded his body. He slowly leaned down, hovering over her gorgeous body and devouring it with a ravenous gaze.
Maybe that was just how things were meant to be between them. But he didn't care. After one taste of her, he already knew he'd want more of her. And he knew that even if she gave it to him, he'd still want even more of her, again. Always. Because he would never have enough of her. The night they'd shared together years ago had haunted his mind on countless sleepless nights and sometimes, just the memory of her, that night, had been the only thing that had kept him sane. But it was a long time ago and, as he leaned down into her welcoming arms and started kissing her lips, he thought that, even if tonight had to be just another one night, he would cherish it just as he had cherished the memory of the previous one and, whenever he'd feel alone, he'd close his eyes and see her, just like he was seeing her now, sensually beautiful, spell-biding and all his.
Just for one night.
** THE END **
A/N
I hope you enjoyed reading this story as much as I enjoyed writing it. I know I said I'd post for IYLM, but that one was just taunting me, and wouldn't go away, so…. I had to let it out of my system! :D
I have a few other ideas of "first times" already (though, I sincerely can't say when I will find time to write them) but, meanwhile, I'd gladly take any suggestions that you could think of. So if you want me to develop a particular context, a pretext, or who you'd rather have as the instigator (or even if you've thought about a combination of all three) don't hesitate to share your own ideas in a comment!
Have a nice day ~ maya
PS: You remember how in "Half-Wit," the next episode, House visits Cuddy and tries to follow her in her bedroom and she says: "call the Make A Wish foundation"? That's my fictional explanation for it! As if, after that 'first time' happened, he'd have wanted it to happen again... :P