Rp for l_cuddy_md
House ended up going back to his room, after meeting that blonde woman down in the lobby. He'd had a crap enough day as it was; the way the morning had turned out with Cuddy, meeting Wilson in the bar, getting punched in the face by John. Yeah, he wasn't interested in his day getting any more crap than it already was, and hanging around downstairs
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Obviously saying please to get House to finally bring her to orgasm had not been 'merely being polite.' It hadn't been polite at all. It had been begging, pure and simple. But being polite was the story she was sticking to until she came up with a better excuse.
Cuddy let her head drop forward as House's slippery hands glided over her skin. There was something incredibly intimate about being touched like this. Not necessarily sexual, although it certainly could be. It was...comforting. It was...caring. It was...everything two people who weren't in a relationship shouldn't be doing. Kind of like the sex. She had no intention of stopping either.
"Hmmm? Oh, yeah, those muscles are always tight." She let out a soft huff of amusement. "I think it started about the time I hired you."
Clearly she had more stressors in her life than just House, and they all seemed to go straight to the muscles of her shoulders and upper back. She didn't even notice when she was tense any more because she was almost always tense. At home she kept to regular exercise and stretching to try and stay relaxed and loose. But despite all the stress she'd had since arriving at the Hotel, she hadn't stuck to her exercise program. The tightness in her muscles had built up almost without her being aware of it.
Cuddy let out a soft groan and arched her back when House hit a sensitive spot between her shoulder blades. "Ow...no, don't stop," she murmured when the movement of his hands hesitated. Damn that smarted, until House kneaded out the knot and then it felt amazing. She rolled her head from side to side, feeling the newly loosened muscles stretch easily.
"If you ever decide to change careers, you could make a killing as a masseuse." She let out a soft snort of laughter. She almost added 'or a gigolo' but she kept that observation to herself. He was already unbearably smug about his sexual talents.
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Her shoulders weren't really in bad shape at all, just tight and tense, and House knew there was no such thing as years of sexual repression when it came to Cuddy and himself; just years of sexual harassment on his part, which she always took in her stride most of the time. He dug his thumbs in deeper and worked at the bunched muscle fibres to push the knots out of her shoulders, working his way down to between her shoulder blades.
After hesitating when she voiced her complaint of pain, House did as she requested and kept kneading his fingers and palms into her back until he could feel she'd loosened up considerably. He smirked at her comment about him being good at massage, abandoning her shoulders and closing his hand around the back of her neck to start massaging that.
"But then I'd have to touch people," he remarked, placing one hand on her shoulder to hold her steady, while he slowly massaged the base of her skull with his fingertips. "Different when you're a doctor: most people don't like doctors. Massaging someone's neck is a little different to palpating someone's cervical lymph nodes."
He used his hand on her shoulder to push her hair more out of the way, then began to slowly knead his fingers down the column of her neck, from her nape downwards. He soon finished the massage with a final squeeze to her neck and let his hand slide down her skin. His hand came to a rest to her hip and he reached his other arm around her for the soap.
"So, the question is," he said, circling Cuddy in his arms while he soaped both his hands up, "what to massage next."
He set the soap down onto the dish and craned his neck so he could peer over her shoulder, down at her body. His hands then instantly moved to her breasts, cupping them, and he pulled Cuddy against him so her back was pressed against his chest.
"Hmmm," he said in mock seriousness, giving her breasts a couple of experimental squeezes, "yeah, these seem pretty tense, too."
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She did think he'd turn that down, strange as it seemed. Strange for someone who spent as much time talking about women and sex as House did, that was. That was House, though, saying one thing and doing another. Since Stacy left he'd ogled and sexually harassed plenty of women, herself included. As far as she knew he hadn't slept with any of them.
Frankly she thought he was more sexually repressed than she was. Or maybe not sexually repressed, more like...affection repressed? Because he apparently took care of his physical needs but only if he could avoid emotional entanglements.
She, on the other hand, was affection starved. Not sex starved, although at times there was a correlation. What she wanted was the whole package: sex, intimacy, affection. It was troubling to realize that the closest she'd gotten to that in recent years was right now, with House. It certainly made her wonder how much of the affection she thought she was seeing from House was really just her projecting her own wishes.
She leaned back when House pulled her to him, dropping her head back against his shoulder. "Trust me," she said with a throaty chuckle. "Those are not tense." She let him play with her breasts though, his slippery fingers caressing them before sliding down to stroke across her belly and hips. Maybe this wasn't intimacy, maybe it was simply House taking full advantage of the opportunity to grope her, but it felt like intimacy. She decided that was good enough for now.
"You know what--I think you've got those clean now." His hands had wandered back up to her breasts and she laid her hands over his. She twisted her head to look up at him and smile. "I think it's probably my turn now."
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The truth was, yes he would turn down that kind of thing, appealing as it was. Being a doctor gave him a safe barrier between people and himself; it wasn't part of the job to care, just part of the job to treat and practice medicine. Massage would require caring. No, thanks. House much preferred to ogle at a distance where he was safe from getting personal.
Which was... not what he was doing here with Cuddy. Or... Actually, he had no idea what he was doing here with Cuddy. He was touching her and stroking her skin, feeling and caressing her body like she was his and as much as he tried to deploy the idea that this wasn't any kind of relationship, this was just two people in a shower after having sex, this wasn't anything except physical, his bizarre feelings of possessiveness were undeniable. As he cupped her breasts, then started to slide his hands over her belly and hips, the tops of her thighs and her waist, he felt strangely very possessive of Cuddy. House had always been possessive of her, and of Wilson, but for reasons pertaining to the fact that they were his friends. Not because he'd had sex with them.
He weirdly started picturing Cuddy being intimate with other men, doing this same thing with other men -- where the thoughts were coming from, he had no idea. Maybe it was just the intimacy of this, standing here in the shower and touching her, or maybe it was the fact that Cuddy had brought up massaging other women and that made him think of the idea of someone else doing this to Cuddy. Whatever the reason, he didn't like the idea of someone else touching Cuddy like this. At all. Which was just stupid, because they weren't in a relationship. So, he had no reason to think like that.
Except... except... He didn't want to further that line of thought; it was getting too confusing.
He looked down at Cuddy, his chin tucked against his chest so he could see her face, when she looked up to him and spoke about it being her turn. He squeezed her breasts again. "Your turn? To grope your breasts? That's hot. I don't have any complaints about you groping yourself in front of me. It's good you're comfortable enough to share with me your self-love."
He grinned down at her, letting his hands slip from her breasts and slide down to her belly. He then gave her a mock serious look. "Guess that means I'm all yours."
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There was just enough room for them to stand sideways to the cascading water. She waited until House had ducked under the water himself then maneuvered him so that he was standing with his back to the wall.
"You disappoint me," she said as she began to work her hands across his chest. She started along his shoulders and slowly worked downward. "Watching me masturbate is a pretty mild fantasy. I would've thought you'd be more...creative. More edgy. More into leather bras and handcuffs." She smiled up at him as her hands swept across his lower abdomen. "You're really just a traditionalist, aren't you?"
She looked down again, her hair slipping over her shoulders and clinging to the sides of her face. She ran her hand along his cock and around his balls. She kept her touch light, not meant to arouse--assuming he could respond so soon after the intense sex they'd had. She was simply washing away the residue of latex and spermicide that condoms tended to leave behind.
It was an undeniably intimate way of touching him. Too intimate for House? She took the chance, figuring she'd know if he didn't like it. For her it was simply taking care of a...lover? Partner? What the hell did they call each other if this wasn't a relationship? 'Significant other' didn't apply. Endearments seemed out of the question. Maybe they should stick to "bastard" and "she-devil." That was both familiar and uncomplicated.
Cuddy ran her hands along his sides and onto his hips. "Rinse off," she said, reaching for the soap again. "Then I'll get your back."
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House was actually very vanilla. He didn't find thrill in being restrained or blindfolded or being in any situation where he felt at all out of control or compromised. He liked sex where he could look and touch and taste everything he wanted to; so, yes, Cuddy was actually right, he was a traditionalist. Not that he'd let on now that she'd said that. He dropped his eyes to her hands and watched them move over his chest and stomach. He wasn't sure what to make of her touching him like this. It was just a shower, so he shouldn't have had a problem except it was so incredibly initimate. He hadn't been touched like this in... god, he could barely even remember. It made him feel vulnerable, being washed, especially with how much attention Cuddy was putting into it. She was watching what she was doing, watching his skin and watching her hands moving over every part of him and House wasn't sure what to do.
So, he stood there, straight, arms by his side, feeling for the first time since Cuddy and he had sex, awkward. Sort of like how he felt when Alice was touching him. It was making him painstakingly aware of his appearance, almost made him feel paranoid about what Cuddy was thinking about his body while touching him like this. Surely not attractive; he didn't know how that was even possible, to see much attractiveness in his body or how he looked. It was certainly something he didn't see. He used to, before the infarction -- not hugely but much more than he did nowadays.
When Cuddy reached his penis and balls, he glanced up at her face and tried to school the awkwardness from his expression. This was stupid: she'd had his cock in her mouth and had it inside her, had stroked it and caressed it and now he was feeling awkward? He was glad when she stepped back and gave him room to rinse off. He let the water run down his body, pushing his head under the spray, then stepped back again before he hesitantly turned to face the wall so Cuddy could wash his back.
"No funny business with that soap," he said to joke off his unease, once his back was facing Cuddy.
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Cuddy could almost feel the tension building. House's movements, his posture, were stiff, hesitant. She knew she needed to back off a little, but she wasn't sure if it was a purely physical thing or if he was reacting emotionally. Emotionally, she guessed, but he was surprisingly shy about his body at times. Not during sex: he seemed at ease then. And he was definitely comfortable touching her, but the rest of the time....
"It's just me," she added softly. She washed his back, making the touch of her fingers lighter, less sensual. In her opinion it was a shame. Under those layers of wrinkled clothes he usually wore he had a nice body, muscular but lean. She enjoyed running her hands over his skin, feeling the solidity of bones and muscles under the surface. The scar on his thigh was ugly, there was no denying that, but it was old news for her. Old enough that she didn't think about it unless he drew her attention to it.
"Just as well you're not into handcuffs," she said, trying to relax him with something more like their normal sexual banter. "I can't say that I've ever had any great desire to be tied up. As to leather...it's probably a great visual, but wouldn't it be hot?"
Her forehead creased in a frown because she really didn't know. The only leather she owned was a little black leather jacket, and her shoes, of course. She'd never tried more intimate items of apparel. She shook off her musings and gave House a light slap on the ass. "All done. Rinse off and let's get out before we turn into prunes."
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He tried to ignore her reassurance that it was just her, though tried to relax a little more at the same time. He drew in a deep breath and let it out slowly, lagging his head forward. He snorted at her comment about leather.
"That's the whole point," he replied. "You put it on, only for it to come off. Except because it's leather, you're supposed to make a show of the strip teasing. Unless you're a dominatrix, in which case it doesn't come off at all, and the guy being dominated doesn't even get to touch unless he's given permission. That's no fun."
He opened his eyes and peered over his shoulder at Cuddy, and pictured her briefly in leather. His eyes dropped to her breasts and he found himself thinking about Cuddy in a black leather bra and pants. Maybe a short skirt and whoa, that was a hot mental image. He faced back to the wall. Yeah, hot mental image. Something he'd perhaps entertain later on. Not that Cuddy naked wasn't hot enough, but adding something alluring like tight-fitting clothes, things that accenturated her curves, just made it even hotter.
At the slap to his ass, House pushed back from the wall and moved back under the spray, rinsing his whole body off a little self-consciously. He pulled his head away from the spray and gave it a quick shake to rid the excess water, then opened his eyes again to look at Cuddy as he rubbed his hand over his face. He used his other hand to shut the water off.
"I got to soap your breasts; do I get to dry them, too?"
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It occurred to her that his comment about stripping might be in reference to the stripper he'd met here, but realistically he'd probably seen plenty of strippers in his time. More than she had, certainly. She wasn't going to let herself obsess over that any more. He'd had his chance to go back to the stripper, to that kind of sex, and he'd chosen not to. She might not fully understand why he'd chosen to be with her, but she was going to accept that it was his choice.
As House rinsed off, she stepped out of the shower and grabbed one of the thick cotton towels the Hotel provided. A touch of luxury apparently intended to distract them from the fact they were trapped. She did appreciate the luxuries: the towels, the food, all the amenities. But it definitely wasn't enough to distract her from the reality of her situation. So far, House had been the only one who'd managed to distract her. Several times in fact.
"Wait your turn," she said, holding the towel up as House stepped out of the shower. She began to rub it across his chest before he could take it from her. She dried both arms all the way to his fingertips before moving back to his torso. She tried to find a balance between making her touch too detached and methodical and making it so intimate that she made House uneasy again. It was a difficult line for her to tread. It was that whole tactile thing again. She liked to touch. The fact that she'd already become intimately acquainted with his body only made that desire stronger, not weaker.
She ran the towel down his legs, but had to squat down to dry his feet. Then she draped the towel around the back of his legs, holding it by either corner as she stood, pulling up along the backs of his legs and across his ass to his waist. She tugged on it then, pulling him into a brief kiss.
"Oops." She pulled a face in pretend concern as she looked at where the press of her still damp body had gotten him wet. "Guess maybe you do need to dry me off."
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As she dried down his chest and stomach, House slowly and a little warily drew his eyes back to Cuddy and watched her face, watched how she was focusing on what she was doing. He watched her rub the towel down his arms and hands, a little uneasy by how much focus she was putting into this because it was again making him acutely aware of himself and his appearance. He tensed up as Cuddy descended to his legs, though relaxed when she drew no attention to his scar whatsoever, and by the time Cuddy was standing back up and tugged him in towards her with the towel, the look on his had face softened. As awkward as he was about this, it was... nice, in a way, to be touched like that.
"Yeah, that's a real chore," House agreed in a mock put-out tone. He reached for the other towel, shook it out and appreciatively looked at her chest while he started to wipe the corner of the towel across her sternum. He might've been awkward about having this kind of attention on him, but he certainly didn't mind paying this kind of attention to Cuddy's body. And why not? She had an incredible body, as far as House was concerned. He dried over her breasts and took the opportunity to grope them again by palming her left breast and lifting it up to dry underneath it, doing the same to the right breast.
"You really should ask for assistance in drying these in the future," he advised, though the corner of his mouth had lifted in a smirk. "Be too much of a handful, otherwise."
He dried down to her belly, her waist and to her hips, and when he rubbed the towel over her crotch, he glanced up at her face. "Oops. Hand slipped." He grinned. "Turn around."
Once her back was facing him, he ran the towel over her back, made a point of groping and caressing her ass while drying it and dried down her legs before he stood back up and started to dry her hair. He gathered it in the towel and rubbed it carefully, then draped the towel over her head and started to rub her scalp.
"You eaten?" he asked. He tugged the towel from her head and dropped a kiss to her shoulder, then to the side of her neck, letting the towel fall to the floor. He reached his arms around her and stroked her belly before scooping her breasts up in his hands. Hey, he liked them. "I'm hungry," he said against her neck.
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She stood still, allowing House to have his fun as he dried her. She enjoyed it too, after all. She didn't just like touching, she liked being touched. She especially enjoyed being touched the way House did, with obvious enjoyment. Maybe it wasn't the correct feminist attitude to take, but the truth was she liked to look good both for herself and for the (all too rare) men in her life. Correct attitude or not, she was a physical, sexual being just like everyone else. If a man appreciated that, then all the better for her.
"I'm not all that hungry. I had a late lunch." She laid her hands over his where they caressed her breasts. She twisted her head to the side to kiss him, a soft lingering kiss. She had had a late lunch, but the truth was, if the second dose of hormones affected her the way the first had, the side effects would probably show up within the hour. The nausea would be easier to tolerate on an empty stomach.
Besides, she wanted nothing more than to crawl into bed. Not the way she had after her trip home, in an apathetic depression. She wanted to slide between the sheets naked, warm, and relaxed. She wanted to be lazy. She wanted to be lazy with House... but she did't know what House wanted. If this was a relationship she'd know what to expect, what to...want. But it wasn't a relationship so she didn't know. And it wasn't just sex either. The usual rules didn't apply.
"You could order something from room service if you're hungry. Or if you want to go...not that you have to...." Cuddy turned in the circle of House's arms, wanting to slap herself upside the head for once again being unable to speak plainly. Of course, it would help if she actually knew exactly what she was thinking first.
"What I'm trying to say is, you're welcome to stay, but I won't be offended if you want to go. The evening's still young after all."
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"Shut up," he said impatiently to her. "I know I don't have to do anything I don't want to do, I don't need you to tell me that. I don't do anything I don't want to do, so why should this be any different?"
He gave her challenging look, as if to dare her to tell him he didn't have to stay, again. He ran his hands down her back, and by the time his hands came to a stop on her ass the look on his face relaxed again. Maybe it was stupid to not want Cuddy to talk about this in any way, but it just made things easier to deal with if he didn't feel bound to any rules. Cuddy giving him options were like rules to House, no matter how loose they were. If they started depending on a need to verbally express what they each wanted, that was just setting up a trap for making rules to this non-relationship thing.
Before she could argue with him, because his disputing her really wasn't an invitation for her to protest, House pressed his mouth against hers and distracted her with a kiss instead, teasing her tongue with his. Really, if he didn't want to stay, he wouldn't have got in the shower with her, and he wouldn't have allowed her wash him and dry him. That was where the balance between this being a relationship and not being a relationship was confusing because he didn't want to leave Cuddy after having sex with her, because he liked being with Cuddy while they got along, but he didn't want this to manifest into something more... Or did he? Or...
He made a quiet frustrated noise at the back of his throat when he pulled back from Cuddy, frustrated at himself and his inability to not make this simpler than he wanted it to be. He stubbornly shook it from his mind and took his frustration out on Cuddy's ass instead, groping and squeezing it while peering down at Cuddy.
"Order me up a Reuben," he said as a way of saying he was staying.
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Of course before she could argue the point, he employed the simple yet effective distraction of kissing her. It silenced her, but it couldn't keep her from thinking. She was pretty sure that ignorance was not going to be bliss in this case. If she believed it really was just sex, then there wouldn't be any need for discussion. But she didn't believe that. They'd jumped into something without even knowing what it was and if they didn't figure it out then someone was going to get hurt.
"You can't distract me with sex," she warned when House finally pulled back from the kiss. His hands on her ass had them pressed together, but she thrust her pelvis against his, just to emphasize her point. Except that her point wasn't entirely valid because she wanted House to distract her with sex, only she wanted distraction from the hotel and their captivity, not from whatever it was the sex meant.
Hell, maybe it came down to the fact that they just might be screwed up enough to deserve each other.
Cuddy rolled her eyes when House demanded a sandwich. Jerk couldn't just say he wanted to stay. He had to come at every thing obliquely, speak in code. Then again, that's the way he handled everything and she was an idiot if she'd thought this would be any different.
She managed to extract her ass from House's hands with a little wiggling and walked into the bedroom. She stretched out on the bed, lying on her stomach, and pulled the phone from the bedside table. It only took a couple of seconds to place the room service order, given that she had no desire to engage any of the hotel's staff in pointless conversation. She hung up just as House entered the bedroom. She glanced up as he approached the bed, and fixed an expression of complete innocence on her face. "You did want extra pickle with that Rueben, right?"
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"No," he replied with a look of disgust at the idea of pickle being on his sandwich. He scowled down at her innocent look, sitting down with a slump on the bed. He put his cane aside, then rolled onto his stomach and crawled up towards Cuddy, and he lightly bit her ass in (playful) retaliation before continuing up towards her. Before she could roll over to face him, House crawled on top of her so that she was trapped on her belly beneath his body, though he put some of his weight on his hands so as not to squash her.
"You order pickle with my Reuben, there'll be no pickle surprise for you tomorrow morning," he declared.
One thing House did to be annoying was be playful, especially when the woman he was with was annoyed. He'd done that a lot to Stacy when they were together, and it drove her insane, though she usually ended up laughing, no matter how much she resented him for it. And Cuddy had seemed pretty annoyed at him for telling her to shut up, and he really didn't want to talk about relationship/not-relationship thing with her, in spite that he'd wanted to earlier. So, he was going to seize the vantage point and opportunity to playfully annoy her.
Keeping Cuddy trapped beneath him, he lowered his face to the side of her neck to deliberately tickle it with his bristles. As she squirmed, he trapped her more beneath him and nuzzled his face in closer just to annoy her more. "Don't try to fight it, there's no escape," he said in a low, playful voice, knowing full well she hadn't ordered pickle on his Reuben at all. "No ordering of pickle on my Reuben goes unpunished."
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"I don't need your pickle," she claimed. The way House was laying against her, her ass was fitted against his groin. She pushed up, rubbing her ass against said 'pickle' to tease him. "As long as your mouth's in working order, I don't need your pickle at all."
She knew what he was doing. He didn't want to deal with this thing, but he also didn't want her mad at him for refusing to deal with it so he was trying to divert her attention by being silly and annoying. She didn't need much diverting. She'd said what she felt she needed to say. She was confident House knew what she'd been thinking and she wasn't going to bang her head against a wall if he didn't want to pursue it.
"Never expected you to be such a 'pickle' tease," she added under her breath.
She wasn't really mad anyway. All the loose ends bothered her little administrator's mind. She liked things neat and tidy. So of course it made perfect sense she'd get more deeply involved with a man who practically defined untidy. He wouldn't even iron his shirts, for pity's sake.
"Jerk," she gasped, squirming more vigorously when he started rubbing his stubbled face against her neck. He had her pinned too well, though. Her lower legs were the only part she move much, and that wasn't very helpful. Her hands were trapped under her chest, and she tried to work one free so she could get a little more leverage. Or pinch him, if she had to. She knew if she really needed him to stop, he would. House might be an obnoxious, even hurtful jerk at times, but he would never hurt a woman. Not when he was in control of himself, anyway. The way he'd grabbed her when he wanted his pills was an aberration. He hadn't been thinking clearly. She believed that absolutely.
"I swear, House, if you don't stop I'll shave you in your sleep." She turned her head from side to side, trying to escape the sandpaper rasp of his beard, but he simply switched sides every time she did. Then she let out a snort of amusement. "That might not be all I shave either."
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"You shave me, I'll find another way to torture you," he said. "Don't think I'm easily thwarted."
He jerked back when she tried to squirm away again, and let out an amused laugh at her wrestling against him, before he managed to get his face in against the side of her neck again, torturing it with his lips and tongue in an attempt to find a ticklish spot on her. And when located it, he was merciless, licking and flicking his tongue over the spot until Cuddy was wrestling too much for him to be able to keep her pinned down and tickle her at the same time. Of course, he'd stop if she really wanted him to. He might have lost control of himself when he was desperate for his pills, but House didn't hurt women. He had no respect for people who did purposely hurt women.
House let out another chortle as the struggle became a little more competitive, and he somehow managed to tangle his fingers within hers when she finally got her hands free. He attacked her neck one more time, before he pressed a kiss to her neck and it took him a few attempts to kiss her neck softly for her to work out he was trying to be nice for a change. He kissed up her neck to her jaw, then up to her cheek, gripping her hands tight in his. And just as she relaxed... House stole the opportunity to dive his face back into the side of her neck and attacked her again with his tongue.
He rolled off her with a triumphant, obnoxious laugh, though didn't back off with torturing her. He was on a roll now: spooned up behind her, he reached his hand down to the back of her thigh to grope around for a ticklish spot, and when he located it he mercilessly tickled her before his hand shot up to her belly and groped her there in another merciless attack of tickling. He kept dashing his hand around spots on her body before she could snatch a proper hold on his hand, tickling her thigh, her waist, at one point managed to get his hand between her thighs to attack her groin. He eventually let her win and was grinning broadly and cheekily by the time she got a hold of him.
"Uh-oh," he said, not at all seriously as he wrestled easily with her, letting her have most the power over him. "Cuddy's cranky."
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