Vice -- depraved or degrading behavior
Summary: Sometimes it just feels better to give in. Series of oneshots, with a "Seven Deadly Sins" kinda theme.
Quote is from 3.19 (Act Your Age)
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"So many people… So much energy and drama just trying to find someone who's almost never the right person anyway…It just—it shouldn't be so hard."
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socordia
It's the rain, at first, that pulls him out of his sleep.
Pounding angrily against windows and doors, as thunder booms in the distance and lightening cackles, illuminating his bedroom and the pale, warm, body entwined with his in a temporary shade of purple. He's amazed by her ability to sleep through all this.
It's the rain that startles him, but it's her hands that keep him awake.
As is inevitable when sharing a bed, the concept of "sides" is ignored and he realizes that he is, quite simply, cuddling with her. His fingers are interlocked with hers, resting firmly and securely on top of her stomach. He shifts, feels her pulse pounding just beneath his fingertips and discovers that he doesn't mind the fact that they're holding hands, not really.
Fifteen minutes before her alarm is supposed to sound, she snuggles her head into his chest, one leg sliding between his. A rare moment of tranquility, and he doesn't want it ruined by the reality of pain and responsibilities or interrupted by any obligation.
It isn't easy, but every once in a while he manages to convince her to sleep in.
Of course, not five minutes after her alarm is safely turned off and he's finally drifting off to sleep, Cuddy starts to stir. She frowns, lips falling into a small pout as she perches on her elbows, and looks over at him, the sheet wrapped around her bare chest slipping dangerously low.
"What are you doing?"
"What's it look like?"
She glances over at the nightstand then back at him, her frown deepening. "You turned my alarm off," she states accusingly.
"Technically... my clock, my alarm. Sleep," he orders groggily. He tries to tug her back toward him by pulling his arm around her waist but she pushes against his chest when she falls onto his lap, rebuffing his attempts to coax her back to dreamland.
"House—"
"It's seven AM on a Sunday. Sleep."
"I have a meeting—"
"At 12:30. Last I checked it doesn't take you four hours to get dressed. Even if you include underwear."
"House, you can't just—"
He ignores her, grabbing her gesturing hands and holding them still. Instead of speaking, he cuts her off with a kiss that is everything but chaste. "You work too much. Sleep."
She's smiling when he pulls back and runs the pads of her fingers lightly across his throat. She kisses him briefly, then pokes her finger squarely in the middle of his chest.
"Don't expect that to work all the time."
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