If you wait - (4/?) - T
Title/Chapters: If you wait/ (4/?)
Pairing/Characters: Cameron/Wilson, Amber/Wilson, Cameron&House
Spoilers: House's Head and Wilson's Heart
Rating: T
Summary: Cameron and Wilson find themselves drawn to one another because people who suffer the same type of pain, almost always seek each other out.
Disclaimer: Nothing is mine except for the idea.
E-mail:mute_mime@livejournal.com
One year. One little year. One lonely year. You stared at the calendar, the pen in your hand forgotten and dangerously close to clattering to the floor by your house shoe. The phone rang, jarring you to your senses as you realized you’d been lost for nearly fifteen minutes in a small square on a piece of thin paper. For the first time in a long time, your heart beat too hard when you saw House’s name on the ID. Really? You thought you were past this.
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She was your routine. You weren’t ashamed of it. The worldly teacher was steadying the lost student and you thanked her for it. When House was too much, when he was finally someone you could talk about, she was there. Waiting. When you came back from kidnapping him, tired and aggravated, she laughed with you as you retold the events. When things settled down, the pace between you and him almost the same in every way, she told you it was okay.
You watched her in action, sitting with a chicken sandwich in your lap, admiring the quickness of her thoughts. She was here, there, everywhere. And that’s when you noticed it. The thinness of her, and not just her body. She was stretching, this way and that, too far and too close, backwards and forwards. It was like that, for the whole of your lunch break. Even as you walked away, a hand in the air as a wave, all that you could see was a tight line strained beyond normal forces.
Was that what you had to look forward to?
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“Another late night?”
She looked up, exhaustion under her eyes, but a smile that lit up her face.
“Sorry about lunch.”
“Don’t worry about it.”
You sat in the chair beside her, the sweatshirt rolled up to your elbows and leaning on the small round table in the break room. She looked at you as if she wanted you to tell the truth, but you were. The lies with her didn’t come so easily anymore.
With a sigh, she threw down her pen and leaned back, popping the knuckles of her hands swiftly before folding them over her abdomen.
“So,” she eyed you carefully and you could feel her question like a monster with a sword and a taste for blood. You stopped looking at her and interlocked your fingers as you brought them to your lips, silencing for just a few more seconds.
“How are you?”
There was a plentiful supply of words at your disposal to answer her, but none of them seemed right. You remembered looking at the calendar and not being able to mark through this day.
“I don’t know.”
You turned your head to the left and she nodded softly from her relaxed position, giving you space and not wanting to throw her own past emotions in the way. The corners of your lips trembled upwards, not quite seeming to fix. She smiled better, probably due to years of work.
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Her hair was long, too long, long enough to tangle itself around her shoulders and make her look like she didn’t own a brush. Her mouth opened, shut, opened again, and this time you were the one to step forward and grab her by the shoulders to look into eyes that never seemed to tell the truth.
“Cameron? What’s wrong?”
“Chase left.”
You frowned, harshly and unbelievingly. “What?”
“He was packing when I came in. He said he was tired of being second. He left.”
Without thinking, you pushed her into your arms and let your head fall to her shoulder. She smelled too sweet after such a bitter encounter and you shook your head at the thought because you liked too sweet. And you shouldn’t, couldn’t.
“It’s okay, Cameron.”
“I know,” she said clearly into your neck, and you froze.
Froze entirely, completely. It was hot. Too hot. Too sweet. But you couldn’t move, not with her so close and her breath brushing across your neck where no breath had been in a year. She pulled away from you, taking her breath without realizing it. Her eyes were sharp, looking into yours as if she had just been granted the lottery and knew what she was using the money for.
“I’m…I’m not sad, Wilson. It doesn’t bother me. It doesn’t,” she ended with a whisper, a bizarre look on her face as she heard what she was saying out loud.
It would take you a long time to admit that you were the one who started it. You dipped your head first. She merely stared. You wanted to stop, honestly, but it’d been so long and she was always there for you. Now, she needed you. Her breath was hitching and it didn’t deter you, even when she kept her eyes open as your face was an inch from hers, you kept going.
Her soft lips stiffened as yours met hers, but it didn’t last long as she opened her mouth so he would claim her properly, with this at least. She was hungry. You were hungrier. Her mouth was warm, wet, willing. She pushed into your body, and even though you had to hold her close just to feel her, you didn’t care. You could fix her better. She could fix you along the way.
And then she stopped with a gasp, her tongue quickly in her own mouth and two hands on your cheeks pushing you away. Her chest sucked in two deep breaths as she stared up at you, her nose slightly twitching.
“Wilson, I….” She shook her head and let her hands hold the sides of your face just a little longer before letting them fall down to her sides and turning around so fast you barely saw the door close behind her.
Pairing/Characters: Cameron/Wilson, Amber/Wilson, Cameron&House
Spoilers: House's Head and Wilson's Heart
Rating: T
Summary: Cameron and Wilson find themselves drawn to one another because people who suffer the same type of pain, almost always seek each other out.
Disclaimer: Nothing is mine except for the idea.
E-mail:mute_mime@livejournal.com
One year. One little year. One lonely year. You stared at the calendar, the pen in your hand forgotten and dangerously close to clattering to the floor by your house shoe. The phone rang, jarring you to your senses as you realized you’d been lost for nearly fifteen minutes in a small square on a piece of thin paper. For the first time in a long time, your heart beat too hard when you saw House’s name on the ID. Really? You thought you were past this.
|+|
She was your routine. You weren’t ashamed of it. The worldly teacher was steadying the lost student and you thanked her for it. When House was too much, when he was finally someone you could talk about, she was there. Waiting. When you came back from kidnapping him, tired and aggravated, she laughed with you as you retold the events. When things settled down, the pace between you and him almost the same in every way, she told you it was okay.
You watched her in action, sitting with a chicken sandwich in your lap, admiring the quickness of her thoughts. She was here, there, everywhere. And that’s when you noticed it. The thinness of her, and not just her body. She was stretching, this way and that, too far and too close, backwards and forwards. It was like that, for the whole of your lunch break. Even as you walked away, a hand in the air as a wave, all that you could see was a tight line strained beyond normal forces.
Was that what you had to look forward to?
|+|
“Another late night?”
She looked up, exhaustion under her eyes, but a smile that lit up her face.
“Sorry about lunch.”
“Don’t worry about it.”
You sat in the chair beside her, the sweatshirt rolled up to your elbows and leaning on the small round table in the break room. She looked at you as if she wanted you to tell the truth, but you were. The lies with her didn’t come so easily anymore.
With a sigh, she threw down her pen and leaned back, popping the knuckles of her hands swiftly before folding them over her abdomen.
“So,” she eyed you carefully and you could feel her question like a monster with a sword and a taste for blood. You stopped looking at her and interlocked your fingers as you brought them to your lips, silencing for just a few more seconds.
“How are you?”
There was a plentiful supply of words at your disposal to answer her, but none of them seemed right. You remembered looking at the calendar and not being able to mark through this day.
“I don’t know.”
You turned your head to the left and she nodded softly from her relaxed position, giving you space and not wanting to throw her own past emotions in the way. The corners of your lips trembled upwards, not quite seeming to fix. She smiled better, probably due to years of work.
|+|
Her hair was long, too long, long enough to tangle itself around her shoulders and make her look like she didn’t own a brush. Her mouth opened, shut, opened again, and this time you were the one to step forward and grab her by the shoulders to look into eyes that never seemed to tell the truth.
“Cameron? What’s wrong?”
“Chase left.”
You frowned, harshly and unbelievingly. “What?”
“He was packing when I came in. He said he was tired of being second. He left.”
Without thinking, you pushed her into your arms and let your head fall to her shoulder. She smelled too sweet after such a bitter encounter and you shook your head at the thought because you liked too sweet. And you shouldn’t, couldn’t.
“It’s okay, Cameron.”
“I know,” she said clearly into your neck, and you froze.
Froze entirely, completely. It was hot. Too hot. Too sweet. But you couldn’t move, not with her so close and her breath brushing across your neck where no breath had been in a year. She pulled away from you, taking her breath without realizing it. Her eyes were sharp, looking into yours as if she had just been granted the lottery and knew what she was using the money for.
“I’m…I’m not sad, Wilson. It doesn’t bother me. It doesn’t,” she ended with a whisper, a bizarre look on her face as she heard what she was saying out loud.
It would take you a long time to admit that you were the one who started it. You dipped your head first. She merely stared. You wanted to stop, honestly, but it’d been so long and she was always there for you. Now, she needed you. Her breath was hitching and it didn’t deter you, even when she kept her eyes open as your face was an inch from hers, you kept going.
Her soft lips stiffened as yours met hers, but it didn’t last long as she opened her mouth so he would claim her properly, with this at least. She was hungry. You were hungrier. Her mouth was warm, wet, willing. She pushed into your body, and even though you had to hold her close just to feel her, you didn’t care. You could fix her better. She could fix you along the way.
And then she stopped with a gasp, her tongue quickly in her own mouth and two hands on your cheeks pushing you away. Her chest sucked in two deep breaths as she stared up at you, her nose slightly twitching.
“Wilson, I….” She shook her head and let her hands hold the sides of your face just a little longer before letting them fall down to her sides and turning around so fast you barely saw the door close behind her.