Fic: Are You Serious
Title: Are You Serious
Author: houseketeer
Pairing: House/Cameron
Rating: Adult
Word Count: 2265
Summary: For her birthday, I asked sharp2799 what H/C moment that we've seen would have been most likely to bring them together. She answered, "Well, I think Cam should have said YES when he was fine and asked her out for a drink!! That would have proved to him that she didn't just want him because he was damaged. I think that's really where she f___ed up." I was inclined to agree.
Are You Serious
"Would you like to get a drink?"
"Are you serious or are you just trying to change the subject?"
"No, I'm serious. I drink, you drink. We could do it at the same time, same table. Do you eat? We could do that too. I mean, if the answer's no that's cool but..." He stops in front of the elevators, smirking while she stares at him.
"It's a test."
House smiles. "Oh?"
"If I say no, I never really wanted you: you were just damaged and I love that. If I say yes, it was all a joke. Right?
"Yes." He is still smiling, but something in his eyes says he's shocked she caught on. "So which is it?"
She shakes her head. "Just fuck off."
She turns and walks away, and he calls after her, "Dinner; I'll pick you up at eight." She doesn't turn back, but her step falters at his words.
oOoOo
As soon as she arrives home, Cameron strips down and hops in the shower. She's been wet all day, and as the warm stream of water hits her back she touches herself.
He asked me out. Her fingers glide over her clit. He might actually even turn up, he might actually even be--she pushes two fingers inside herself--serious about it. "Oh god." House taking me for dinner, "Ah," drinks, "Ah," talking, "Ah!" Taking me back to his apartment and fucking me right inside the door, gripping my hips and fucking me so hard I scream. "Oh, god yes!" As she comes, her left hand braces her weight and her right fingers remain still, feeling her body pulse against them.
She takes extra care getting ready. She blows out her hair and sets it in velcro rollers, then applies her makeup. Definitely not appropriate for work, she thinks as she applies her dark eyeliner and red lipstick. Last time they went out, neither of them were themselves. Feelings-talk didn't work back then; it's time to give sex kitten a try. At least it'll be more honest.
She has dressed in low-rider jeans, a red camisole, and black boots. Dressy but casual, it should work wherever he takes her. She told herself she was getting ready early so she could relax before he arrives, but she's anything but relaxed. Now she sits in the living room and waits. Fidgets. For twenty minutes her eyes never leave the digital clock on the DVD player. Eight pm. He's probably not even coming.
There is a loud pounding at her door.
She is relieved to see he's wearing jeans as well. But he has definitely changed--darker jeans, nicer shoes, and he smells amazing. He's wearing a black jacket over a white t-shirt with a graphic black print on it--he's stunning. "Wow," she says as she reaches for her leather jacket on its hook.
"Wow yourself," he replies. "Shall we?"
oOoOo
Cameron's heart races when he opts to slide into the booth next to her rather than across. Having her body wrapped around his on the ride over may have been the erotic highlight of her young life. Now the thrill of his proximity is almost more than she can stand; thank heaven their position doesn't demand eye contact. His arm rests on edge of the booth behind her head, almost touching. "I have no idea what to say to you," she says.
"Oh, he's going to drop it, look." His hand falls to wrap around her shoulder and pull her to his side so she can see. Before them a waiter carries a heavily laden tray in one hand and three full beer steins in the other. She is just in time to see his wobble turn alarming, everyone near them gasps. But somehow he recovers and delivers the order without further incident. "Damn," he turns to meet her eyes and briefly startles at how close she is. "He never drops it," he adds in a much softer tone.
She leans up and presses her lips to his, a brief touch of lips and tongue, and then sits back against his arm. There is silence for a moment, then he says, "I don't know what to say to you either."
Their drinks come and both are pleased to have something to fiddle with. Emboldened by half a margarita, Cameron says, "I find you very sexy," while House is mid-sip.
He coughs scotch. "Excuse me?"
"You heard me," she says coyly.
"I'm going to refer you to a licensed optometrist." He takes a big gulp and signals the waitress to send more.
"Oh come on, you know you're gorgeous."
He shifts a bit so he can look her in the eye. "You're serious."
"No, I'm making it up so you'll offer me a raise." He turns back to face forward, and she continues, "You're breathtaking, drop-dead, flat out hot as hell."
"Christ Cameron."
"And I want to fuck you."
House is spared replying when the waitress arrives and takes their orders. "You're young," he says. She worries he's about to launch into some list of objections against her. "What do they talk about on dates these days?"
"I'm afraid it won't apply--get to know you stuff mostly." He nods at her to continue. "Um, what do you do for a living, what made you decide to do that, where did you grow up, how many siblings do you have. That type of thing."
"Discussion designed to draw out someone's flaws so you don't waste too much time, while developing a false sense of relationship so you can go to bed together."
"Um, basically," she says.
"You're right; it doesn't apply." He downs his drink and reaches for the fresh one. "Maybe it'll be less awkward after we've slept together."
Cameron turns in her seat and kisses him again, wrapping her hand behind his neck to pull him in closer. She tries to be flirty, affectionate, and dirty all at once, and she thinks she's pulled it off when his hand lands on her hip. They make out relentlessly. When the kiss breaks, she breathes, "I want you."
He can't help but smile. "The food here is good, you'll be glad you waited." He leans back against the booth and kicks his feet up to rest on the seat opposite. Just as he'd proposed and she'd hoped, a bit of physical contact seems to have broken the tension. Now they talk about good food, aided by the arrival of their orders. Although neither of them does much cooking (he can't be bothered, she has no time) both appreciate cuisine enough that this topic carries them through to the arrival of the bill. From that moment on, they don't speak until they pull up in front of House's condo.
"Do you want to come up for coffee?" he asks.
She laughs. "That should be my line."
"You can't invite me into my own house; you're ridiculous." He takes the helmet from her and leads her inside. In the living room he dumps the helmet and pauses uncertainly. Cameron walks right past him, into the bedroom.
He enters to find her sitting on the edge of his bed, unzipping her boots. She stands before him and looks into his stare, then pulls her top off over her head.
"No bra," he comments.
She smiles and reaches for the fly of her jeans. "No bra." She steps out of her jeans, leaving her in only a tiny red panties.
"Try to be a little less hot, or this will all be over in minutes," he says as she advances on him.
She pushes his jacket off his shoulders, then presses her almost naked body against his and whispers in his ear, "We have all night, and I'm going to make you come over and over until you beg me to stop."
House swallows hard. She returns to sit on the edge of the bed, legs crossed, confident. She wants to watch him undress. He looks awkward, then pulls his t-shirt over his head. She's awestruck; he's been working out. This thought reminds her that there is probably a serious scar under those jeans, a fact which his ketamine-induced fitness had pushed from her mind. She falls back against the bed, slides into its center. As she lies on her back, she strips off her panties. Her view is of the ceiling, not him. She hopes he's right, and this will all be less awkward later on.
House turns off the light and crawls between her knees. Her hands slide over his chiseled back, pulling him to her. “I want you so bad,” she tells him.
Of all the positions that have been hard or impossible since the infarction, he has missed this most. He’s been looking forward to doing this with someone during every pushup since the ketamine. Being on top of her, able to look into her eyes, kiss her-fuck her hard: it’s better than he can stand. Her knees are bent; her feet planted on either side of his thighs support her as she meets each stroke. She whispers in his ear, “I want you to come inside me.”
“Oh fuck.” It’s so easy to give her what she asks for: he can’t remember the last time he came that hard. He rolls onto his back, and she nestles against his side with her head resting on his chest. “Damn.”
“Hmm?”
“You didn’t…”
She giggles. “It’s not a contest. Anyway, you made me come once already today. In the shower.”
“Cameron.” She lifts her head and looks up at him. “What do you like in bed.”
“Mmm, you.” She smiles, but he looks very serious. She yanks on the corner of his pillow to make room for her own head, then lays with her lips brushing his ear. As she whispers, her fingers are tracing patterns on his skin. “I like sleeping, and waking up.” She stretches against him and wraps her arms around him more tightly. “I like cuddling,” she rubs the bridge of her nose against his shoulder, “and fucking…” At this, he kisses her soft and long, and she hums a moan against his tongue. “And kissing,” she adds when their lips break apart.
She traces patterns on his skin, tracing his muscles. Cameron's wandering hand brushes his cock, and she realizes he's becoming erect. She shifts a bit so she can look at his face. She adopts a flirty but cautious tone. "So, there must be some...positions...that you've been...missing."
He tips his head back and closes his eyes. It's impossible to be offended when she's doing that with her fingers. He moans in the affirmative.
"Show me."
"On your knees."
As she moves to comply, he kneels behind her and wraps his arm around her hip. The tips of his fingers glide up and down between her lips and brush her clit. Already she has started to unconsciously sway forward and back, rubbing against him, wanting more. "Oh that's good," she whispers. The way she is rubbing back against him is too much to take; he pushes into her. She squeezes him and feels it in her clit, feels it everywhere. She's so close that her breathing comes in noisy pants and she tells him, "Just like that."
He delights in his ability to give it to her hard. He holds her hips and fucks her so forcefully that she bends at the waist and rests her head on her crossed arms, rocks back into him with each powerful thrust. The pads of his fingers and the length of his cock feel her pulsing climax.
He's not done yet.
He sits back on his heels and pulls her with him. Now he is lifting her at her hips to sit on his cock again and again, a position he could certainly not have managed before the shooting. His lips are behind her ear, "Touch yourself--come again." Her whole body shudders in his arms, and then he sees her hand moving between her legs. He has to close his eyes to keep from coming.
He gently bites at her shoulder, just to have something in his mouth, just to keep from screaming because she's too fucking hot. His tongue plays on her skin: salt, sex. He has to kiss her. He grabs almost roughly at her chin, but he can't reach. "Turn around."
Cameron's hand doesn't stop rubbing her clit as she turns to face him, lowers herself again onto his slippery erection. He crushes her mouth to his, loves the way her soft lips gently open for him. She's coming again, and she bites his lower lip. He pulls her down hard onto him one last time and moans into her mouth as he comes inside her.
They continue to kiss as they regain their composure. Then Cameron flops back onto the mattress. Although she tries to check her natural inclination to gush after sex, admissions are slipping out. "Oh my god you're amazing. I can't remember the last time I felt like that." She barely hangs onto 'I love you.'
"I couldn't have done that three months ago," he says, and his tone is a warning. 'This probably won't last you know.'
"If all I wanted was perfect sex, I'd stick with a vibrator. I want you."
House opens his mouth to object, but thinks better of it. There will be plenty of time to convince himself she's serious later; he never intends to go to bed without her again.
FIN
old comments
Author: houseketeer
Pairing: House/Cameron
Rating: Adult
Word Count: 2265
Summary: For her birthday, I asked sharp2799 what H/C moment that we've seen would have been most likely to bring them together. She answered, "Well, I think Cam should have said YES when he was fine and asked her out for a drink!! That would have proved to him that she didn't just want him because he was damaged. I think that's really where she f___ed up." I was inclined to agree.
Are You Serious
"Would you like to get a drink?"
"Are you serious or are you just trying to change the subject?"
"No, I'm serious. I drink, you drink. We could do it at the same time, same table. Do you eat? We could do that too. I mean, if the answer's no that's cool but..." He stops in front of the elevators, smirking while she stares at him.
"It's a test."
House smiles. "Oh?"
"If I say no, I never really wanted you: you were just damaged and I love that. If I say yes, it was all a joke. Right?
"Yes." He is still smiling, but something in his eyes says he's shocked she caught on. "So which is it?"
She shakes her head. "Just fuck off."
She turns and walks away, and he calls after her, "Dinner; I'll pick you up at eight." She doesn't turn back, but her step falters at his words.
oOoOo
As soon as she arrives home, Cameron strips down and hops in the shower. She's been wet all day, and as the warm stream of water hits her back she touches herself.
He asked me out. Her fingers glide over her clit. He might actually even turn up, he might actually even be--she pushes two fingers inside herself--serious about it. "Oh god." House taking me for dinner, "Ah," drinks, "Ah," talking, "Ah!" Taking me back to his apartment and fucking me right inside the door, gripping my hips and fucking me so hard I scream. "Oh, god yes!" As she comes, her left hand braces her weight and her right fingers remain still, feeling her body pulse against them.
She takes extra care getting ready. She blows out her hair and sets it in velcro rollers, then applies her makeup. Definitely not appropriate for work, she thinks as she applies her dark eyeliner and red lipstick. Last time they went out, neither of them were themselves. Feelings-talk didn't work back then; it's time to give sex kitten a try. At least it'll be more honest.
She has dressed in low-rider jeans, a red camisole, and black boots. Dressy but casual, it should work wherever he takes her. She told herself she was getting ready early so she could relax before he arrives, but she's anything but relaxed. Now she sits in the living room and waits. Fidgets. For twenty minutes her eyes never leave the digital clock on the DVD player. Eight pm. He's probably not even coming.
There is a loud pounding at her door.
She is relieved to see he's wearing jeans as well. But he has definitely changed--darker jeans, nicer shoes, and he smells amazing. He's wearing a black jacket over a white t-shirt with a graphic black print on it--he's stunning. "Wow," she says as she reaches for her leather jacket on its hook.
"Wow yourself," he replies. "Shall we?"
oOoOo
Cameron's heart races when he opts to slide into the booth next to her rather than across. Having her body wrapped around his on the ride over may have been the erotic highlight of her young life. Now the thrill of his proximity is almost more than she can stand; thank heaven their position doesn't demand eye contact. His arm rests on edge of the booth behind her head, almost touching. "I have no idea what to say to you," she says.
"Oh, he's going to drop it, look." His hand falls to wrap around her shoulder and pull her to his side so she can see. Before them a waiter carries a heavily laden tray in one hand and three full beer steins in the other. She is just in time to see his wobble turn alarming, everyone near them gasps. But somehow he recovers and delivers the order without further incident. "Damn," he turns to meet her eyes and briefly startles at how close she is. "He never drops it," he adds in a much softer tone.
She leans up and presses her lips to his, a brief touch of lips and tongue, and then sits back against his arm. There is silence for a moment, then he says, "I don't know what to say to you either."
Their drinks come and both are pleased to have something to fiddle with. Emboldened by half a margarita, Cameron says, "I find you very sexy," while House is mid-sip.
He coughs scotch. "Excuse me?"
"You heard me," she says coyly.
"I'm going to refer you to a licensed optometrist." He takes a big gulp and signals the waitress to send more.
"Oh come on, you know you're gorgeous."
He shifts a bit so he can look her in the eye. "You're serious."
"No, I'm making it up so you'll offer me a raise." He turns back to face forward, and she continues, "You're breathtaking, drop-dead, flat out hot as hell."
"Christ Cameron."
"And I want to fuck you."
House is spared replying when the waitress arrives and takes their orders. "You're young," he says. She worries he's about to launch into some list of objections against her. "What do they talk about on dates these days?"
"I'm afraid it won't apply--get to know you stuff mostly." He nods at her to continue. "Um, what do you do for a living, what made you decide to do that, where did you grow up, how many siblings do you have. That type of thing."
"Discussion designed to draw out someone's flaws so you don't waste too much time, while developing a false sense of relationship so you can go to bed together."
"Um, basically," she says.
"You're right; it doesn't apply." He downs his drink and reaches for the fresh one. "Maybe it'll be less awkward after we've slept together."
Cameron turns in her seat and kisses him again, wrapping her hand behind his neck to pull him in closer. She tries to be flirty, affectionate, and dirty all at once, and she thinks she's pulled it off when his hand lands on her hip. They make out relentlessly. When the kiss breaks, she breathes, "I want you."
He can't help but smile. "The food here is good, you'll be glad you waited." He leans back against the booth and kicks his feet up to rest on the seat opposite. Just as he'd proposed and she'd hoped, a bit of physical contact seems to have broken the tension. Now they talk about good food, aided by the arrival of their orders. Although neither of them does much cooking (he can't be bothered, she has no time) both appreciate cuisine enough that this topic carries them through to the arrival of the bill. From that moment on, they don't speak until they pull up in front of House's condo.
"Do you want to come up for coffee?" he asks.
She laughs. "That should be my line."
"You can't invite me into my own house; you're ridiculous." He takes the helmet from her and leads her inside. In the living room he dumps the helmet and pauses uncertainly. Cameron walks right past him, into the bedroom.
He enters to find her sitting on the edge of his bed, unzipping her boots. She stands before him and looks into his stare, then pulls her top off over her head.
"No bra," he comments.
She smiles and reaches for the fly of her jeans. "No bra." She steps out of her jeans, leaving her in only a tiny red panties.
"Try to be a little less hot, or this will all be over in minutes," he says as she advances on him.
She pushes his jacket off his shoulders, then presses her almost naked body against his and whispers in his ear, "We have all night, and I'm going to make you come over and over until you beg me to stop."
House swallows hard. She returns to sit on the edge of the bed, legs crossed, confident. She wants to watch him undress. He looks awkward, then pulls his t-shirt over his head. She's awestruck; he's been working out. This thought reminds her that there is probably a serious scar under those jeans, a fact which his ketamine-induced fitness had pushed from her mind. She falls back against the bed, slides into its center. As she lies on her back, she strips off her panties. Her view is of the ceiling, not him. She hopes he's right, and this will all be less awkward later on.
House turns off the light and crawls between her knees. Her hands slide over his chiseled back, pulling him to her. “I want you so bad,” she tells him.
Of all the positions that have been hard or impossible since the infarction, he has missed this most. He’s been looking forward to doing this with someone during every pushup since the ketamine. Being on top of her, able to look into her eyes, kiss her-fuck her hard: it’s better than he can stand. Her knees are bent; her feet planted on either side of his thighs support her as she meets each stroke. She whispers in his ear, “I want you to come inside me.”
“Oh fuck.” It’s so easy to give her what she asks for: he can’t remember the last time he came that hard. He rolls onto his back, and she nestles against his side with her head resting on his chest. “Damn.”
“Hmm?”
“You didn’t…”
She giggles. “It’s not a contest. Anyway, you made me come once already today. In the shower.”
“Cameron.” She lifts her head and looks up at him. “What do you like in bed.”
“Mmm, you.” She smiles, but he looks very serious. She yanks on the corner of his pillow to make room for her own head, then lays with her lips brushing his ear. As she whispers, her fingers are tracing patterns on his skin. “I like sleeping, and waking up.” She stretches against him and wraps her arms around him more tightly. “I like cuddling,” she rubs the bridge of her nose against his shoulder, “and fucking…” At this, he kisses her soft and long, and she hums a moan against his tongue. “And kissing,” she adds when their lips break apart.
She traces patterns on his skin, tracing his muscles. Cameron's wandering hand brushes his cock, and she realizes he's becoming erect. She shifts a bit so she can look at his face. She adopts a flirty but cautious tone. "So, there must be some...positions...that you've been...missing."
He tips his head back and closes his eyes. It's impossible to be offended when she's doing that with her fingers. He moans in the affirmative.
"Show me."
"On your knees."
As she moves to comply, he kneels behind her and wraps his arm around her hip. The tips of his fingers glide up and down between her lips and brush her clit. Already she has started to unconsciously sway forward and back, rubbing against him, wanting more. "Oh that's good," she whispers. The way she is rubbing back against him is too much to take; he pushes into her. She squeezes him and feels it in her clit, feels it everywhere. She's so close that her breathing comes in noisy pants and she tells him, "Just like that."
He delights in his ability to give it to her hard. He holds her hips and fucks her so forcefully that she bends at the waist and rests her head on her crossed arms, rocks back into him with each powerful thrust. The pads of his fingers and the length of his cock feel her pulsing climax.
He's not done yet.
He sits back on his heels and pulls her with him. Now he is lifting her at her hips to sit on his cock again and again, a position he could certainly not have managed before the shooting. His lips are behind her ear, "Touch yourself--come again." Her whole body shudders in his arms, and then he sees her hand moving between her legs. He has to close his eyes to keep from coming.
He gently bites at her shoulder, just to have something in his mouth, just to keep from screaming because she's too fucking hot. His tongue plays on her skin: salt, sex. He has to kiss her. He grabs almost roughly at her chin, but he can't reach. "Turn around."
Cameron's hand doesn't stop rubbing her clit as she turns to face him, lowers herself again onto his slippery erection. He crushes her mouth to his, loves the way her soft lips gently open for him. She's coming again, and she bites his lower lip. He pulls her down hard onto him one last time and moans into her mouth as he comes inside her.
They continue to kiss as they regain their composure. Then Cameron flops back onto the mattress. Although she tries to check her natural inclination to gush after sex, admissions are slipping out. "Oh my god you're amazing. I can't remember the last time I felt like that." She barely hangs onto 'I love you.'
"I couldn't have done that three months ago," he says, and his tone is a warning. 'This probably won't last you know.'
"If all I wanted was perfect sex, I'd stick with a vibrator. I want you."
House opens his mouth to object, but thinks better of it. There will be plenty of time to convince himself she's serious later; he never intends to go to bed without her again.
FIN
old comments