Couch potato
A.N. Sorry for the slow update. I like to stay a couple ahead and the tone of this and the next chapter took me a while to get right. Maybe it's not right even now. This one isn't explicit, but it's probably not breakfast reading. Your choice. As ever, reviews make my day. No pressure. Speaking of pressure, I can't help but notice that this story is hemmed in by House/Cuddy entries on the front page of this site. Yikes.
The three doctors were munching the last of the pizza and discussing films. Actually, they were discussing one film. Or rather, one series of films. Wilson was sitting in the large leather recliner nursing his fourth, and probably final, beer of the night; House and Cameron were sharing the sofa. The former, who was talking expansively on their chosen topic like a king holding court, had somehow located a bottle of Laphroaig whiskey; the latter was enjoying a glass of red wine and trying like anything to take things seriously.
"I still don't get why you won't give any credence to my religion idea", she said.
"Because it's not a religion", House retorted.
"But, correct me if I'm wrong, doesn't Harrison Ford's character say it's a religion in the first one?".
"By 'first', you mean Episode IV, A New Hope", interjected Wilson.
Cameron suppressed an eye roll and nodded.
"Yes, he calls it a religion…", House admitted, but just as his neighbour was on the point of taking a victory sip of wine, he carried on, "…and there's an explanation for that. Well, two possible explanations. Either that's what Han Solo, as a non-Jedi, actually believes the Force is—in which case, he's wrong. Or the writers' conception of the Force changes as they get more of the story down on paper. Certainly by the later movies it ain't a religion". A smirk.
"Surely it depends on how you define religion, though? If you think religion needs a god, gods, or some other figure worthy of veneration to qualify as such then I agree that the Jedi aren't religious. But if you define religion as simply believing in something and following a way of life, then I think Han Solo is on to something". Cameron folded her arms and smirked back.
"I believe in threesomes and anal sex. Doesn't make me religious".
"That's not the same thing and you know it. What do you think, Wilson?".
"I think…that it's time for bed". Wilson got to his feet somewhat gingerly. Despite years of friendship with House, his alcohol tolerance remained lamentably low. "House, would you direct Cameron to the bathroom and the spare toiletries and towels? See you in the morning. Don't worry about tidying up—I'll do it tomorrow before leaving for work".
"Night, Wilson. Thanks for inviting me over tonight", smiled Cameron.
"Not at all, not at all. Night, House!", he added in an exaggerated manner, aware that his friend had remained quiet.
"Night, lightweight", he replied.
Wilson could only shrug in acceptance as he made his way out of the room and down the hallway. The door closed a few seconds later.
"Do you still want to talk about Star Wars, or can we go to bed?", she asked, bringing her feet up and sitting cross-legged to face the other.
House swilled some whiskey in his mouth before swallowing and holding out his hand.
Cameron took it and allowed him to pull her close.
"Let's just sit here for a little bit. I want to finish my drink and we can give Wilson a few minutes' head start".
"Sure thing, couch potato", she smiled, before snuggling against the other and holding his arm tight around herself. In the brief time they had been together already, this was one of her favourite things to do with House. It was further proof that he was slowly allowing her inside his bubble. The sex was one thing, but he was a man used to disposable pleasure, and no matter how fantastic he made her feel in the bedroom, this could always be put down to mere functional proficiency rather than anything deeper. But this kind of proximity, where she could hear his slow heartbeat and see the rise and fall of his chest, felt significant somehow, as if they were connected emotionally.
Much like they had done in the office two nights prior, the pair remained in complete silence, listening to the faint sounds of Wilson in his en-suite bathroom, and the occasional car pass down below. Only when the distant running water had stopped completely did House stir, tapping his fingertips against her jeans. "You're good", he said suddenly.
"Thanks. I think so, too".
"Do you have any idea what I'm talking about?", he asked.
"Not a clue".
"Your clothes", he stated, still holding his fingers lightly against the denim.
"Ah". Cameron was wearing a tight top and low-rider jeans. "Well, I just threw these on. It was a bit of a rush to get from the hospital, back to mine, to the restaurant for the beer, then over here. This is all I could find".
"Uhuh. So you're saying that you didn't wear this combination on purpose, knowing full well that I'd mentioned how much I liked it a couple of months ago?". House's grip around her waist tightened.
"Nah, I can't remember that far back. You overestimate me". Cameron played with his fingers, pretending absentmindedness, when really a familiar warmth spread through her limbs. She could feel the other angle his head to look down at her but she refused to engage, instead maintaining her position in the crook of his arm. House wasn't the only one who could play hard to get.
He tugged her ponytail, forcing her face to tilt upwards, meeting her eyes. "I don't believe you".
Cameron swallowed, detecting the change in his tone. House's hand in her hair was noticeable but not painful. "You're too suspicious for your own good".
"Yeah?", he replied, pulling a little harder, giving Cameron no choice but to expose her throat and the silver necklace.
"You're a suspicious…old…man", she whispered, allowing him complete control for now. This was the version of House she was learning to treasure and to nurture—powerful, hot-blooded, overwhelmingly masculine. Visible only to her. Like the other fellows, Cameron witnessed their boss' various moods in the hospital, enduring his biting sarcasm, grumpiness, and flashes of anger as a simple hazard of the job. The three had learnt to deal with this in their own way. But now that she was with House, the immunologist glimpsed an aspect of his personality that she'd not been able to experience before: his magnetism in a sexual sense.
As a disinterested employee, Cameron might be able to say, for example, that House had a certain strength to pursue a course of action against conventional wisdom; she might be able to observe that he had an idiosyncratic brand of charisma which enabled him to manage a department so haphazardly without any need for paperwork or administrative meetings. But, as his girlfriend, Cameron was beginning to appreciate how this strength, this single-minded charisma, defined his personal life, as well. Nobody else but her could see this, not even Wilson or Cuddy, because, as she was discovering, it was something which emerged only when they were in a sexual situation.
House, she was becoming sure of this, possessed an ability to flick a switch from business to pleasure, maybe even from rational to irrational. Intriguingly, though, Cameron was learning that she could flick the switch for him by her own behaviour, by acting strong and insistent one day, passive and innocent another. The key was to keep him guessing, so that his intellect never had the chance to pin her down into this or that category, so that his curiosity was never truly satisfied.
"And you, Dr. Cameron, are trying to push my buttons", House rumbled, snapping her back to reality. "Is that really the route you wanna take? It's a risky strategy". As he finished speaking, he adjusted his position so that his face was centimetres from her own. "Answer my question", he demanded, still holding her ponytail.
Her eyes met his, observing how their blue shade had darkened. Progress. "What was it again? I dozed off while you were talking". The flippant tone was at odds with the beating of her heart and the tingling in her core.
"This top…", House's gaze roved down her body, taking in the shape of her breasts and the pale skin of her stomach, which had appeared as the shirt had ridden up during their jostling. "Those jeans…you're wearing them on purpose".
"They're just clothes, Greg", she answered, hoping the use of his first name would provoke a reaction.
"Hmm". House tilted her head back further, and brought his lips to her throat, nipping the smooth skin with his teeth. Cameron inhaled sharply but made no attempt to move against his grip on her hair. It was a delicious sensation, knowing that she was utterly in his power yet completely safe. He trailed his tongue up to just under her jaw, feeling her quickening pulse, the evidence of her arousal. At the same time, he moved a hand to a breast and tweaked a nipple through her top. A murmur escaped her lips but she remained still. "You came here, to Wilson's home, intending to seduce me", he finished.
"Big deal. The, ahh…the question is, what are you gonna do about it?". She gasped as House nicked her chin.
"I'm going to fuck you", he replied simply.
"Yeah? Well, maybe I just want to sleep. Maybe I'll kick you to the floor instead and keep the bed all to myself". Their angle was causing her neck to ache but she ignored it, preferring to focus on feelings of a more intimate nature that were bubbling beneath the surface. This man turned her on and there was absolutely nothing she could do about it.
Without any warning, House kissed her hard, using her ponytail to break contact as soon as he felt her tongue attempt to invade his mouth. "Like I said: you're good. But I'm better".
"Let's agree to disagree", she replied in a voice thick with excitement.
At this, as if aware that she was hoping for a further escalation of tension, House released her hair, pulling her into his lap and brushing her forehead with his, allowing the passion to simmer a little. "I didn't know that you were like this. It's an attractive quality".
Cameron quickly forgot her disappointment, recognising that he was opening up to her again. She kissed his nose, just like he often did with her. "How attractive is it? Does it entice you more than my hair?". This was still something about him that she'd not yet figured out—how much weight he allotted physical and mental attributes. It hadn't escaped her notice that all the ex-girlfriends she'd seen had been stunningly beautiful. This observation was something she'd revealed to him during their first night together, but she was interested to hear his position on the matter in the cold light of day, as it were.
"Hmm. Do you mind if I quickly jog my memory?", he asked, running his fingers through her hair. The other hand he placed at her waist, just under the hem of her top.
Cameron only nodded, loving the feel of his fingertips' gentle caress, and the contrast of just a few minutes prior, when he had been forceful and demanding.
He removed the band of her ponytail, tucking it in his pocket as her hair tumbled down her shoulders.
She watched as his pupils widened and his mouth opened slightly. "I'd say it's about even", he managed in a soft voice.
"Good to know". Cameron pouted, and brought both hands to his face before holding his lips once more to her neck. "Hey, House?".
"Mmm?", he replied against her skin.
"Can we go to bed now, please?".
"Wait. We need to finish our Star Wars debate". House sat back just in time to see the other wrinkle her nose.
"Look, is there anything I can say that would bring the, ah, 'debate' to as rapid a conclusion as possible? I'm asking for a friend". Cameron placed both hands on his chest, pushing him back into the leather couch.
"You can concede that I was right all along that the Force isn't a religion".
"You're asking me to compromise my principles just so you can be right? That sounds like a pretty rough deal. I don't care about sex with you that much".
House tilted his head. "Fine. I have a counter proposal".
"Go ahead".
"How about you say that I was right out loud, but you can take these fingers…", he reached down and took them in his own, "…and cross them behind your back. No one has to know, and we can both stay true to ourselves".
"Huh. So essentially what you're saying is that we resolve the impasse by being complete children about the whole thing? And then moving on with our lives?".
"Yes. That is exactly what I'm saying", he nodded. "I just don't think we should let it define our time together. I mean, there are far better films like Bladerunner and The Godfather out there. We shouldn't give George Lucas the satisfaction". House's hands edged up from her waist, trailing over the warm skin until he reached the strap of her bra.
Cameron sighed softly, luxuriating in his progress up her body. "Fine. House, you're right. I see it now. The Force is not a religion. I can't believe I thought it was, and I'm hoping beyond hope that you can find it in your heart to forgive me. The end".
"You didn't cross your fingers", he noted.
"I know". Now she pulled him into a kiss, speaking into his mouth: "let's go to bed—been wired for the last twenty minutes and I'm not waiting any longer".
Suddenly House got to his feet, hooking her legs around his waist, and carrying her towards the bedroom. "You and me both. But you need to keep the volume down, else Wilson will be grumpy tomorrow morning".
"I'll try. Is it OK for us to do it in his guest bedroom, though? It's not weird?".
House kicked open the door to their room and ambled to the bed with her still in his arms. "I told you, this is basically my space and he knows the score. The man's a consummate wingman".
"You're a lucky dude, House", said Cameron, patting his cheek as he lowered her feet to the carpet.
He grinned before licking his lips wolfishly. "Don't I know it. Shall we begin?".
