TMI (1)
A.N. Time for another two-parter. I'd originally intended to cover this in one chapter but it was so much fun I just couldn't condense it. There's a little bit of hanky-panky but nothing too graphic. I think I'm gonna spread out the uploads a bit more going forwards because this time of year is pretty busy for everyone.
The next morning saw Cameron sitting on the sofa eating cereal. On the table lay a fresh cup of coffee and the morning paper which she had found on the doormat and was steadily working through. It had been a while since she had last read a newspaper: normal information channels consisted of a few trusted websites and the odd glance at a television. But there was something comfortably old-fashioned about an ink and paper broadsheet, and it was both a surprise and not that House bothered to have one delivered to his doorstep every weekend. The man himself was still asleep in the bedroom, having stumbled through early this morning.
Once she had made her way to the kitchen upon waking, Cameron half expected to find either a wide array of food or none at all. In the event, she located a box of peanut butter crunch cereal with little difficulty—not particularly healthy but there was a time and a place for everything. Upon taking her bowl to the coffee table she had retrieved her phone from the coat hanging by the door, and that was when she had spotted the newspaper lying in wait, along with a few envelopes. Studiously avoiding examining the latter too closely, she placed them on the kitchen counter and took the paper to the sofa.
It was not until a good thirty minutes of silent reading and crunching had passed did House finally stir, ambling into the living room and yawning widely. "Time is it?", he asked.
"Ten-ish", she replied, not looking up from the paper. "There's coffee in the pot".
"If I was Christian, I'd say 'bless you' for that. But I'm not, so I won't". House went to the kitchen, calling back: "I couldn't find my dressing gown. Why do my clothes always go missing when you're around?".
"Because I actively hide them, maybe?", she shouted back.
"Hmph". He returned holding his own mug and sat down next to Cameron, rubbing his eyes sleepily. "So where is it?".
"On me, genius. I didn't fancy slipping into my jeans and t-shirt when I woke up. It's, ah, a bit big", she mused, standing up and holding her arms out, her hands barely emerging from the sleeves. "How tall are you?".
"6, 2. You?".
"5, 5. I might need some higher heels if this relationship is to last".
"Nah, I can kiss your hair pretty easily at the moment". He appraised her keenly for a few seconds, returning to the subject of the dressing gown. "I dunno, I think battered and threadbare cotton suits you. Not least because I can see glimpses through the holes".
Cameron raised an eyebrow. "If you want to see me naked, Greg, all you have to do is say".
"I want to see you naked", he shot back.
"Aha", Cameron announced, leaning down to take his coffee cup and placing it on the little table. Then, she straddled his lap on the couch, whispering into his ear: "we haven't fucked all week. You claimed we would last night, but you fell fast asleep as soon as we got back".
"In my defence", murmured House, hands on the tie of her, his, gown, "getting obliterated all night at bowling really took it out of me. Anyway, you could have woken me up".
As she had done the last time they were in this position, in her apartment, she moved her own hands down, hindering his movements. "Nah, you looked cute just napping away on the couch".
"Wise decision", he nodded, nuzzling her hair with his nose. "I get cranky if someone wakes me up. What did you wear to bed last night?".
"Nothing".
"That's hot, but you should keep some clothes and pyjamas here. I'd offer you some of mine, but I don't think anything would fit".
Cameron, who had been kissing along his neck and jaw softly, pulled back a touch as her heart skipped a beat. "That's…a bold suggestion. Are you sure you're ready for that?". Another reason for this cautious approach was because there had been no further news on whether the two would be sharing a hotel room at the London conference. The brunette was unwilling to raise it, content, as ever, to let House decide for himself. In fact, she had discreetly asked Cuddy last night to book a spare room for her on the off-chance developments took a different turn.
"It's not like you're moving in, is it? I'll just clear out a drawer, or maybe half a drawer, and you can have some stuff here just in case".
"But would that mean I don't get to wear this dressing gown anymore?". Cameron did not confess her odd attachment to his scent; nor that it was something she had missed during the rest and recuperation phase following the shooting; nor even that it was the first thing she had recognised his first day back. Undoubtedly there was some sort of evolutionary imperative at play here. The reflection was comforting, if only because it underscored yet again that despite their similarities and differences, their personal failings and strengths, both were only human and therefore entirely intelligible to one another. No matter what might happen in the future, this simple fact would never change.
"You can still wear this, weirdo. Looks better on you, anyway. Right now it's coming off". House pulled the tie and slipped a hand inside, feeling the warm smoothness of her skin that never ceased to fire his blood.
"But I'll get cold".
"No worries. We'll keep each other warm", he murmured as his hand trailed up her stomach, caressing her flank and back.
Cameron pulled the gown down around her shoulders, watching as House's blue eyes raked familiarly over her nakedness. If she ever had doubts over his attraction, these initial moments always dispelled her insecurity far more effectively than his words ever could. She was enough of a realist to understand that he had likely seen plenty of beautiful women in the flesh, both girlfriend and hooker, and the thought occasionally arose that he would somehow judge her, wilfully or otherwise, by those standards. Overly pale skin, very slim, boyish frame, small bust. But whenever she revealed herself to him, his expression scarcely deviated from a straightforward carnal hunger. The whole experience made her feel incredibly sexy.
"House…", she shivered, pulling him into a deep kiss.
The other ran both hands over her body, feeling the tiny bumps on her skin, evidence of cold-induced arousal which in turn caused his erection to throb against her butt.
Cameron reached down and grasped him over his pyjama bottoms. "Is that for me, or is it just morning wood?", she whispered into his mouth.
"It's for you", he replied, kissing along her jaw before travelling down her neck, placing little bites as progress markers.
"I have tits, you know", pouted the woman as she slipped a hand inside the fold to grasp him directly.
"Lean back". House's voice was gruff, indicative of his own heightened state.
Cameron grinned and, with a final kiss on the lips, allowed him to support her weight as she tilted backwards, maintaining eye contact for as long as possible until the angle steepened. Using both hands splayed on her upper back to keep his area of focus steady, House dipped his head and lapped each peak with his tongue, avoiding her nipples. This did not escape her notice. "No. Don't tease, you. Just…eat".
"Fine", he growled, "be like that". Wasting no more time, House did as he was bidden, engulfing her with his mouth, flicking one rock hard nub with his tongue before moving to the other, forcing her more firmly against his face. Even now, the morning after, he swore he could still taste traces of vanilla and spice; unless the aroma had already become so ingrained that his brain was simply playing tricks, supplying variables it anticipated, like a mirage in the desert.
"Yes, yes…there we go. Put that…big mouth to use. More. Harder. I want to feel your tongue all over before we fuck". Cameron's sighs and whispered words punctuated the quiet of the apartment as she ground herself against his lap, using the friction as a delicious counterpoint to his assault on her chest. House, meanwhile, could feel how wet she was through the thin cotton of his pyjama bottoms. One hand he slipped down to her entrance, teasing her lips with his thumb, testing her arousal for himself. "Teeth", she hissed. Again, House did as she commanded, drawing his teeth across the pale flesh before nicking each nipple as hard as he dared, until her gasps returned him to vigorous tongue laps.
Suddenly House's phone, which had been on the vacant cushion since last night, lit up. The man, who was completely engaged, remained unaware. But Cameron's better nature pierced the fog of lust. "Your…ph-, phone".
"Leave it. It's on silent for a reason".
"It could be important", she returned and, with remarkable dexterity, reached across and retrieved the device without breaking contact with the other's mouth.
"What I'm doing now is important". House's voice was muffled as the tip of his thumb manipulated her clit.
"How…things have, unhh, changed since you last spoke that…line to me". As soon as Vogler had departed, he had come to her apartment cap in hand. But his pager had erupted with news of a possible epidemic at the hospital, interrupting their conversation:
You should go. It's important, she had said.
What I'm doing now is important.
"Mmm. I love your taste", he murmured with a final lick of her now thoroughly wet breasts, though still teasing her slick entrance with his thumb. "I think I'll eat you for breakfast tomorrow as well".
"Read", she ordered, summoning up the willpower to finally sit forward and thrust the screen before his mischievous expression.
House rolled his eyes but nevertheless traced them over the messages. "Huh. Got a couple of missed calls from Wilson and a few texts. Dunno why…". His voice trailed off, before he exclaimed: "oh, fuck!".
"What's up?".
"Sorry, I completely forgot that I agreed to look around a few apartments with Wilson today. Shit, sorry, I'm already late and he's pissed…". House disliked denying his partner release; he disliked even more that sex was, for now, off the cards.
"Oh, well. That's OK", Cameron replied reassuringly, gently rising from his lap and pulling the discarded dressing gown around herself, glancing down at the damp patch she had left on his pyjama leg. The observation caused embarrassment to flush her features. "You may want to stick those in the wash".
But House tilted her chin up. "Why on earth would I do that? In fact…", he raised his thumb, still wet with her arousal, to his lips and sucked it deliberately, like a toddler with a pacifier. "I said I loved your taste, Camster. Listen, I don't know how long I'll be…but you're welcome to stay. If you want, that is. Otherwise-".
"-sure", she interjected. "I'd like to stay". As ever, House knew exactly how to put her at ease.
"OK, great. There's food and stuff in the fridge but I'll leave you my keys in case you wanna go out. I don't think I have any clothes that will fit you but have a rummage and see if you can find anything". House leapt up from the couch and moved into the bedroom to find some clothes of his own. There was no time for breakfast or a shower.
"Actually, would you mind if I had my look around your apartment while you're gone? And maybe read the article?", she called from the living room. "I promise I won't mess with your stuff too much".
"That's fine, knock yourself out. As for the article, I've already printed off a copy for you. It's next to the computer. If you want to use it the password is GHousePC2004". Sounds of drawers opening and closing filtered through the walls.
"Also", she added conversationally, "would you mind if I fingered myself to completion in your bed? I'm wired as fuck".
House poked his head around the doorway and grinned at her. "I'd be offended if you didn't do that. I'll let you browse my porn, too, but I do ask that you leave it as you find it".
Cameron laughed. "Hey, your phone is still going. Shall I text to tell Wilson you're on the way?".
"Yeah". He jogged down the hallway, having hurriedly tied his shoes and located the motorbike keys and leather jacket. "Where's my wallet?".
"Coffee table", she replied, tossing it over while finishing the text. "I told him you're coming and that he stopped me from coming. Could be TMI. Watch this space".
"Nah, he'll appreciate it. Toss". House was finally ready to go, and he plucked the phone from the air with his left hand, the helmet in his right. He opened the door and glanced back. "You'll be OK here?".
"Don't worry about me. Move!". Cameron shooed him off with a wave of her hand and with a final apologetic shrug he was gone.
For a few moments she stood in the middle of the living room smiling faintly after House and the unexpected course the morning had taken. Still, he had given her a free run of the place, and there were things to do, long-held itches to scratch. That could wait, however. The first task on the agenda was also the simplest. For probably the last time today, Cameron shimmied out of the dressing gown, letting it tumble to the floor. Then, as the Saturday morning sunshine streamed through the window and bathed the room in light, she sauntered into his bedroom and closed the door.