Disclaimer: Don't Own House, but the OCs are all mine!

Breakfast was delicious and so was the sex on the countertop. House didn't know if Ann would be game, but she was actually excited about it. She told him she had wanted to christen the kitchen ever since they started seeing each other.

House felt so at ease with her, he had to remind himself it was less than a week they'd known each other. That made House wonder if he was wearing out his welcome.

"I think I should head back to my apartment this afternoon," he told Ann.

"Really?" Ann asked, not bothering to hide the disappointment in her voice. "Why? Are you sick of me?"

"No," House replied. "I have to do some laundry before I go to work tomorrow."

"You have a washing machine in your apartment?"

"Actually, it's down in the basement of the building."

"Isn't it tough for you to go up and down stairs carrying a pile of laundry?"

"I manage somehow."

"Crap. I didn't mean for that to be . . . you know. I just wanted to offer my laundry room. It's on the same floor as the rest of the house."

"Are you just trying to get me to stay so we have time for nookie while my clothes get a wash and spin?"

"Not to mention all that time they have to be in the dryer . . . "

"Okay," House agreed with a smile.

House decided it was time to shower and get dressed. He went to his car to retrieve his dirty clothes. He hadn't really done any laundry since he'd been at the hospital most of the week. That, and he hadn't wanted to spend any time at the condo.

Wilson had a washer and dryer in the powder room of the loft, and House had gotten used to not having to carry his laundry up and down stairs. He was really going to miss that now that he was going back to his apartment.

He wasn't looking forward to dealing with stairs and his cane and attempting to carry a basket full of clothes, sheets or towels. This was especially true now that his choices of pain medication were so . . . limited. His leg hurt enough at times that he could very easily see it locking up on him while he was on the stairs, which would be bad news.

He could go to a laundromat instead, but he didn't like the idea of hanging out for hours in one of those places. They were boring as hell and the chairs weren't very comfortable for his leg.

He could always use a laundry service, but he hated the idea of spending money for something he'd been doing for himself since he was a teenager. He was too cheap on principle, and it also had the added bonus of reminding him on a regular basis just how disabled he really was. So, pretty much every choice sucked.

House went into Ann's laundry room. The washer and dryer were front loading and raised above the floor. As House put his clothes into the washer, he noticed how much easier it was going to be for him to move the wet clothes from the washer to the dryer without having to reach down into the drum, like he had to with a top-loader. The same would be true with the unloading the dryer.

He emerged from the laundry room to find Ann showered, dressed, sitting on the couch and channel surfing. He actually felt slightly disappointed that she'd washed herself.

"Couldn't take having my jism all over you any longer, huh?"

"It wasn't that. I hadn't showered since six a.m. yesterday, and I was still sweaty from singing last night, not to mention from our kitchen romp earlier. I was becoming rank."

"Now that you mention it . . . "

"Thanks."

"I was just agreeing with you."

"Was I really that bad?"

"Well, seeing as how I ate you out a mere two hours ago, I'd say not. What's going on with you, anyway?"

"What do you mean?"

"Here's a woman who has no problem telling off a department head of a major metropolitan hospital and his physician girlfriend, and a dean of medicine of that same hospital and her psychotic boyfriend, in a public place, no less, and now she's all insecure?"

"Women are always insecure about their bodies."

"You didn't seem very insecure this morning, or yesterday afternoon. Geez, Tuesday night you jumped me, as I recall."

"Let me re-phrase that – women are insecure about the attractiveness of their bodies at any given time. Like when they haven't showered in a while."

"On you, it's just a more aged, pungent flavor of the deliciousness that's there already."

"So, I should stop showering for a week?"

"Well, there is a point . . . "

"Just kidding."

"Can I ask you a favor?"

"Whatever it is, the answer is 'yes.' "

"Wow! So you'll become my sex slave?"

"Whoa, take it easy! What do you really want?"

"I really want you to be my sex slave, but, unfortunately, that wasn't what I was going to ask you. Can I keep doing my laundry here?"

Ann decided that saying anything about House's apartment and the laundry set-up would simply make him feel inadequate, so she just responded, "Absolutely. Listen, in case I'm not here, let me give you something . . . "

Ann got up, went to the kitchen, and she returned with a key and a slip of paper with the code for the security system written on it. "This way, if I'm at work or I'm traveling and you need to get in and wash some clothes or sheets, you should be all set."

Ann placed the key and the piece of paper in House's hand. He stared at both items for a moment, and decided he could either make a big deal out of this, like it was some new phase in their relationship, or he could just take it for what it appeared to be – Ann trying to be helpful. He opted for the latter interpretation, just because everything seemed to be going so well with them. He knew if they got into a Serious Relationship Discussion, he was more than likely to screw it up by pissing her off or hurting her.

He put the key on the ring with the rest of his keys and then the key ring and the paper in his pocket, even though he had already memorized the code. He decided to deflect by moving the discussion to an entirely new topic. "Say, wasn't there a promise of some kind of adult activity while I waited for my laundry?"

"You're right. Why don't you sit here with me?" Ann indicated the sectional sofa in the living room.

House had thought they'd return to the bedroom, but he was game to try something else.

"You know I'm, um, limited, in what I can do on a couch," House reminded her.

"You were pretty amazing yesterday," Ann stated, "And this is a bigger couch. Take a seat."

House sat down next to Ann and waited to see what would happen. After everything that had already occurred between them, he was certainly not apprehensive. He was actually quite curious.

"When I was waking you up this morning," Ann said, "I noticed how, um, responsive, you were."

"That's good, right?"

"It was wonderful. And it made me think about . . . things." As Ann said these words, she began to caress House's neck.

"What things?"

"Like, how long it's been since anyone touched you," she murmured softly. Her hands continued to stoke his neck, and began to reach under his t-shirt to caress his shoulders as well.

At first, House wasn't sure what to do. He knew that his reaction in the past to being touched was to get the hell away. Probably all those years of John "teaching" him that physical contact was about pain.

But, hadn't House supposedly reached a place where he knew he didn't have to respond the way he'd been conditioned? Wasn't that the alleged purpose of all those hours spent in therapy? Shouldn't he at least try to be receptive?

He also knew that after what Ann said about how long it had been, if he continued to allow her to touch him, it would be like admitting it had been a while. Hell, if he was honest with himself, it had probably been for most of his life.

He'd certainly never been willing to pay hookers for anything above and beyond he basics.

He and Lydia had held each other and had sex, and they had held hands, but they never really had the time or the opportunity to do anything more.

Time was also an issue with Stacy when he was with her several years ago. It had to be quick because Stacy was married, and couldn't spend the night leisurely making love.

Even before that, when he was in the relationship with Stacy, it had always been primarily about the sex, not about physical closeness. Stacy was too focused on her career to spend a lot of time lazily cuddling, and she really wasn't the touchy-feely type, anyway. House had thought he liked that about her, and, when he was healthy, it worked out well because it fed his image of himself as a stud (not to mention boosting his male ego).

Of course, once his leg surgery was performed, his self-image as a strong lover was destroyed. If they had had any other basis for their physical relationship, they might have survived her betrayal of his wishes. As it was, House's personality became impossible and their physical relationship became non-existent. In spite of several months of denial on her part, eventually Stacy was forced to conclude that they just couldn't make it work any more and she left him.

As House pondered all of this, it didn't register that Ann had pulled his t-shirt over his head until it was done.

"Has anyone told you lately what a muscular, beautiful, delicious upper body you have?" Ann practically purred as the motions of her hands increased. She was now caressing his chest, arms and abdomen, in addition to his neck and shoulders. "I've wanted to touch you like this since the first time I saw you without a shirt."

House was surprised to realize that his body was leaning into her touch, certainly without his conscious knowledge, and almost without his consent. At this point, he wanted to check his higher brain functions entirely and just go with it. It felt so good, but, there was something else he couldn't quite understand.

He started to hear soft noises and someone was shuddering. It took House a moment to realize it was him. God, was he that wretchedly needy? He checked Ann's face for a response. It astonished him that she didn't look disgusted. The look on her face was . . . well . . . blissful. She was touching him, enjoying it and, even more remarkably, enjoying his reaction to it.

House then realized what the "something else" was. Not pity, not someone try to "rescue" him, not someone seeing him as pathetic and needing to be fixed. It was comfort. Ann thought that he, like every other human being on the planet, needed comfort and she was giving it to him.

"I want to touch the rest of you," Ann whispered as she unbuckled his belt and unbuttoned his pants. House heard the zipper being opened. Ann put her hands on his hips and he lifted them in response. Both his pants and his boxers came off in one quick motion. Ann then removed his socks.

Ann was fully clothed and House was completely naked. Her eyes traveled up and down his body. "So beautiful," she murmured as she touched his hips and the front of his legs. She traveled lightly over his scar, but the contact wasn't any different from the way she was caressing the rest of him.

After her hands moved down his shins, she pulled his feet on to her lap. With her hands open, she pressed into the soles of his feet. It was a deeper caress than what she had been doing to the rest of him, and it made it possible for her to touch him without it being the least bit ticklish.

She bent down and pressed her lips to the tops of both of his feet, and then kissed each one of his toes. She moved her hands back to the top of his feet and rubbed her face against the sole of each foot. She sighed deeply and gave the bottom of each a sloppy, wet kiss.

In response to what she was doing to his feet, House felt an intense jolt between his legs. Ann smiled as she noticed his growing erection.

Her hands progressed up the backs of his legs. She gently turned him on his side as she touched his butt. His head rested on her shoulder and stayed there as she moved up his back. Her hands then went to his hair. She ran her fingers through it so lovingly that House didn't even think about it being too thin.

She lifted his head away from her shoulder and brought her hands to his face. She caressed his forehead and his cheeks. She kissed his nose and his chin. She put her lips over his and moved them lightly, ever-so-gently teasing his lips into her mouth.

House pulled away and rested his forehead against hers. He was close to being completely overwhelmed. He knew the only way he could keep from breaking down was with physical release.

Ann seemed to anticipate what he needed when she reached down to the floor and grabbed his pants. She went into his pocket and pulled out one of the packets. She opened it, removed the condom and rolled it on House's straining cock. She pulled off her shirt and stood up and removed her shorts and panties. Since she wasn't wearing a bra, she was naked as she lay down on her side and put one of her legs over the back of the couch, spreading herself before him.

House moved to lie on his side facing her. He was prepared to touch her to get her sufficiently ready, but when his fingers found her core, he discovered she was already dripping wet. Could she have become that aroused just from touching him? God, could simply giving him comfort make her want him that much?

House was teetering on the edge emotionally as he eased himself inside her. He began to rock back and forth, pushing himself in and pulling himself out of her. Ann copied his rhythm, meeting his thrusts, helping him to reach deep within her.

House' orgasm approached quickly. He was pretty sure Ann wasn't ready to climax, but his need was so urgent. He knew if his body didn't let go soon, his emotions would, and he just didn't know if Ann could handle that. He was fairly certain he couldn't.

Just before his orgasm started, he reached down and rubbed her clit. As she went over the edge, he came, finally finding the release he thought would spare him.

The trouble was, it didn't. As wave after wave crashed over him, his emotions only built up further. After a while, he simply couldn't stop his feelings from drowning him. He buried his face into Ann's shoulder as the tears spilled out on to his cheeks, slid into his beard and dripped off.

At first, Ann thought House's ragged breathing was a result of his coming down from his orgasm. Except that instead of calming down, it became more intense as the time passed. Then, Ann became aware that her shoulder was getting wet.

Ann didn't know House very well, but she knew he was uncomfortable with strong emotions. She was pretty sure if she said anything to him about his crying, she would embarrass him or worse.

She didn't really understand why he was reacting this way. Surely, what she had done hadn't hurt him. Could what she had suspected really be true, that he hadn't been touched in so long, he was simply overwhelmed because someone had finally fulfilled that deep, aching need?

She honestly didn't know what to do. So, she did the only thing she could think of and pulled him as close to her as possible.

"It's okay, baby, I've got you," she spoke softly as she rubbed circles on his back. As she continued to reassure him, the storm slowly subsided and his breathing began to sound normal again.

House kept himself buried in her shoulder, afraid to show her his tear-stained face.

Ann knew the couch wouldn't be comfortable for him for very long.

"I'm still tired from last night," she whispered to him. "Want to lay down with me in bed for a while?"

"Just let me put my clothes in the dryer," House said, his voice still thick. "I'll meet you there."

Ann gave him one last, long kiss on the top of his head. House got up and went to the laundry room as she went to her bed.

He put his clothes in the dryer, and when it was started and was making sufficient noise, he turned on the water in the sink and splashed his face. He wiped himself off with one of the paper towels he tore off a roll he found sitting on the top of the washer. He blew his nose, threw all the used towels in the waste basket and limped slowly to her bedroom.

As he entered the room, he saw Ann had pulled back the sheet. Her long hair was spread out across her pillow, forming an auburn halo around her head. She was completely exposed, with her arms open and her legs spread apart. Her center was still glistening from the encounter that they just had. The word "goddess" popped into House's mind as he looked at her. How was it possible that he'd had three orgasms with her today and he wanted her even more? He was too tired now to do anything about it, but he was sure they'd be together again, either tonight or tomorrow morning. Maybe both.

He climbed on the bed and pressed against her open, inviting body. She covered them and they held each other as they drifted off into much-needed sleep.

A/N: So, this chapter featured laundry, sex, a tiny amount of fetish, intense emotion and House losing it. Since I've been criticized in my other writing for letting House cry, I just hope he wasn't too OOC here. (Hey, maybe it wasn't the crying, it was the laundry! ;D). As always, reviews are appreciated.