RPF (Hugh/Jen): this recipe for disaster
Title: this recipe for disaster
Author:
diamond_daze
Rating: PG-13
Words: 931
Pairing: Hugh/Jen. If you don't like the idea, then please do not read. Simple, really.
Notes: So much to say. First of all, for someone who was reluctantly sucked into the fandom, I am loving it a lot. I mean no disrespect to Hugh, Jo, Jen or Jesse. I just like my RPF fun, okay? This isn't betaed, mostly because it shouldn't even be here, and neither should I, what with all my exams. But who am I to challenge the evil plot bunnies? ♥
Step one.
You can’t help that your heart skipped a couple (or six) beats when David told you that there was going to be a House and Cameron Hugh and Jen kiss. For once you aren’t sure how to react in a situation so you grunt something about getting coffee to a grinning Lisa beside you and hastily get out of there.
In the safety of your trailer, you can breathe again. You eventually move over to the chipboard counter that they call your kitchen, and rest your fingers over the buttons on the coffee maker, but then decide you want something a lot stronger instead.
Slumped on your lumpy couch with a generous serving of scotch nursed in your hands, you lift the glass to your lips with your left hand, unintentionally hiding your wedding ring behind the amber liquid.
Not long later you are stumbling to your bed, getting under the covers with all your clothes still on.
Somehow in the haze you remember your plan: you hold onto your left hand, fingering the ring. The mantra: iloveJo iloveJo iloveJo.
Step two.
Today's the day. No, no, that makes it sound like a big deal, which it isn’t. The irony coincidence is that Jo called this morning and asked why you sounded strange, like you weren’t well. At the set, you see Jen and she is already in her Cameron clothes, talking with Omar.
Jesse comes over and grins at you, jokingly warning you that there’s to be no tongue with his fiancée. You smile back and say something witty about how he’d foiled your evil plan. You don’t stop to wonder how friendly he’d be if he knew the kind of thoughts you have been having recently about her.
And suddenly you’ve changed into your House outfit, and you’re sitting behind his desk, wearing his glasses. You hear the door open and in comes Jen, no, Cameron. Your last thought before you switch into House mode is and so it begins.
Step three.
Her fingertips burn your cheeks and you fight the urge to shut your eyes or hurry things along. You’ve always been a professional, so it’s unnerving that you seem to be unable to move from Hugh to House and that it’s Jen that you see in front of you, not Cameron.
She spans her fingers across your cheek and her thumbs move across your lips but not touching them. Finally she reaches up to kiss you and you don’t remember much else once her lips are on yours. You barely even remember to do your intended eye roll.
Jesse’s words pop up in your mind as you slip your tongue into her hot mouth, but you quash them back down and enjoy your few seconds of bliss. You try not to let yourself be too enthusiastic but it’s fucking hard. You reason with yourself that this is what House would be like with Cameron.
All too soon, you feel her hand slip from your side to reach for the syringe in her pocket, and you subconsciously kiss her harder, trying to drink her in even more for those last few seconds before you know you have to pull away.
It’s torture to move your lips from hers, so you keep them fused together as you open one eye and quirk your eyebrow. You break away only when you know you absolutely have to or it will look strange.
She looks endearingly out of it as she says her next line, “You kissed back.”
But you know better than to ever think it means anything. She just puts her heart and soul into her character. That’s all.
You’re painfully aware that everyone is watching you. David, Robert, Lisa, Omar, Jesse. Oh and a few billion people once this airs. You fight back a blush when you say your last line about a sperm sample because really, it isn’t just a line to you.
Step four.
It’s raining when you hear a couple of timid knocks on the door of your trailer. You walk over quickly and open it to find Jennifer standing there, soaked and wringing her hands.
Part of you wants to close the door on her, but the stronger part wins and you bring her in and rush to get her a towel.
She sits on your lumpy couch, dabbing herself dry and you take off your jacket and give it to her. She pats the fabric of the couch next to her, and despite your awareness that it’s a bad idea, you sit beside her.
She’s still wringing her hands after a couple of minutes and although you want to know why she came to your trailer, you don’t want to cut this short. Whatever it is.
You look up when she shifts her body on the couch so she’s half facing you, and you watch as she twists the engagement ring on her left hand nervously. She opens her mouth to say something, but then closes it again, and bites her lip.
Before you know it, she has pressed her soft lips onto yours, and you respond immediately. She slides her hands into your hair and you clutch at her hips.
Protests flit across your mind, but they are overpowered by what Jen is doing to you. She sucks on your earlobe and your neck and god, you just might die if she stops.
She whispers bed to you and stands up. You follow her quickly, because if you stop long enough to think properly, you won’t go through with this.
This recipe for disaster.
Author:
diamond_daze
Rating: PG-13
Words: 931
Pairing: Hugh/Jen. If you don't like the idea, then please do not read. Simple, really.
Notes: So much to say. First of all, for someone who was reluctantly sucked into the fandom, I am loving it a lot. I mean no disrespect to Hugh, Jo, Jen or Jesse. I just like my RPF fun, okay? This isn't betaed, mostly because it shouldn't even be here, and neither should I, what with all my exams. But who am I to challenge the evil plot bunnies? ♥
Step one.
You can’t help that your heart skipped a couple (or six) beats when David told you that there was going to be a House and Cameron Hugh and Jen kiss. For once you aren’t sure how to react in a situation so you grunt something about getting coffee to a grinning Lisa beside you and hastily get out of there.
In the safety of your trailer, you can breathe again. You eventually move over to the chipboard counter that they call your kitchen, and rest your fingers over the buttons on the coffee maker, but then decide you want something a lot stronger instead.
Slumped on your lumpy couch with a generous serving of scotch nursed in your hands, you lift the glass to your lips with your left hand, unintentionally hiding your wedding ring behind the amber liquid.
Not long later you are stumbling to your bed, getting under the covers with all your clothes still on.
Somehow in the haze you remember your plan: you hold onto your left hand, fingering the ring. The mantra: iloveJo iloveJo iloveJo.
Step two.
Today's the day. No, no, that makes it sound like a big deal, which it isn’t. The irony coincidence is that Jo called this morning and asked why you sounded strange, like you weren’t well. At the set, you see Jen and she is already in her Cameron clothes, talking with Omar.
Jesse comes over and grins at you, jokingly warning you that there’s to be no tongue with his fiancée. You smile back and say something witty about how he’d foiled your evil plan. You don’t stop to wonder how friendly he’d be if he knew the kind of thoughts you have been having recently about her.
And suddenly you’ve changed into your House outfit, and you’re sitting behind his desk, wearing his glasses. You hear the door open and in comes Jen, no, Cameron. Your last thought before you switch into House mode is and so it begins.
Step three.
Her fingertips burn your cheeks and you fight the urge to shut your eyes or hurry things along. You’ve always been a professional, so it’s unnerving that you seem to be unable to move from Hugh to House and that it’s Jen that you see in front of you, not Cameron.
She spans her fingers across your cheek and her thumbs move across your lips but not touching them. Finally she reaches up to kiss you and you don’t remember much else once her lips are on yours. You barely even remember to do your intended eye roll.
Jesse’s words pop up in your mind as you slip your tongue into her hot mouth, but you quash them back down and enjoy your few seconds of bliss. You try not to let yourself be too enthusiastic but it’s fucking hard. You reason with yourself that this is what House would be like with Cameron.
All too soon, you feel her hand slip from your side to reach for the syringe in her pocket, and you subconsciously kiss her harder, trying to drink her in even more for those last few seconds before you know you have to pull away.
It’s torture to move your lips from hers, so you keep them fused together as you open one eye and quirk your eyebrow. You break away only when you know you absolutely have to or it will look strange.
She looks endearingly out of it as she says her next line, “You kissed back.”
But you know better than to ever think it means anything. She just puts her heart and soul into her character. That’s all.
You’re painfully aware that everyone is watching you. David, Robert, Lisa, Omar, Jesse. Oh and a few billion people once this airs. You fight back a blush when you say your last line about a sperm sample because really, it isn’t just a line to you.
Step four.
It’s raining when you hear a couple of timid knocks on the door of your trailer. You walk over quickly and open it to find Jennifer standing there, soaked and wringing her hands.
Part of you wants to close the door on her, but the stronger part wins and you bring her in and rush to get her a towel.
She sits on your lumpy couch, dabbing herself dry and you take off your jacket and give it to her. She pats the fabric of the couch next to her, and despite your awareness that it’s a bad idea, you sit beside her.
She’s still wringing her hands after a couple of minutes and although you want to know why she came to your trailer, you don’t want to cut this short. Whatever it is.
You look up when she shifts her body on the couch so she’s half facing you, and you watch as she twists the engagement ring on her left hand nervously. She opens her mouth to say something, but then closes it again, and bites her lip.
Before you know it, she has pressed her soft lips onto yours, and you respond immediately. She slides her hands into your hair and you clutch at her hips.
Protests flit across your mind, but they are overpowered by what Jen is doing to you. She sucks on your earlobe and your neck and god, you just might die if she stops.
She whispers bed to you and stands up. You follow her quickly, because if you stop long enough to think properly, you won’t go through with this.
This recipe for disaster.