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“Fine, you wanna go with lifeguard Cuddy orrr..mother superior Cuddy?”
House countered with his usual remarks, despite the horrifying situation. 15 hours away of the nearest hospital, 30.000 feet above the ground, a crap load of anxious, some panicked people in a plane. And one asian guy who keeps vomiting every 15 minutes whom House has no idea whats wrong with.
Well, it wasnt all that bad, House thought. If he put aside all those facts, having his boss layed down in front of him, his hands wandering across her lower abdomen, searching..It almost looked like a forbidden one night stand that clearly shouldn’t happen. Except it wasnt.
“House.” Cuddy warned again, head tilting dangerously despite her weakened form.
House actually stopped. More of hesitated. Though..
“This is important, and I pinky swear there’s no other reason why I would go wandering near your panties. Except maybe if Wilson dared me.” He raised his head again, using his clinical, yet somehow persuasive tone. House noticed her gaze not budging, so he scoffs before continuing.
“There’s a butt load of people here who might die because we have no idea whats going on with Mr. Peng over there. And theres no way Im going near that guy unless I have a thing for puke that I didnt know of.”
Cuddy blinks a few times, reconsidering.
“We dont really have a choice do we..” She sighs, pursing her lips together.
“Do what you have to do. But House, I swear if you—“
“Yeah, yeah, mistress. No messing around. Blame my gender if my hands decide to..”
Cuddy gives him an unimpressed look.
“Just kidding. Or maybe not.”
Cuddy reluctantly lets go of his hand and relaxes on her back again, at the same time keeping an eye on the man in front of her. House’s hands were calculating, his eyes observing the path of the rash trailing all across her lower abdomen and below. He shoots her another look, as if to make sure. Cuddy nods once, eyes hooded and heavy-lidded. Gosh the turbulence was worsening the nausea. House goes back to his search and unzips Cuddy’s jeans, lowering them only a bit over her hips, enough for her laced black panties to show. His fingers run over her exposed skin, pampered with the same rash that was upstairs.
“Hm..” He hums, deep in thought.
“What?” Cuddy says, sounding a bit out of breath.
No response.
“What?! House—“ Cuddy repeats, raising her head.
“Smells kinda funny..” House lowers his head, inspecting further and comically sniffs around the area like a puppy looking for its bone under the dirt. “This oddly gives me deja vú..Could’ve sworn I’ve seen these before.” A careful finger traces along the silk lace of her underwear, followed by a slap.
“Ouch!” House flinches his hand away (mockingly, of course) Cuddy’s gaze almost piercing him.
“Focus.”
“Yes, mistress.” He replies, lowering his tone theatrically.
House, indeed, shifts his focus on the matters at hand (quite literally), analysing the rash from different angles. Though she wouldn’t let it show, whenever his knuckles would so lightly graze Cuddy’s skin, she’d swallow. High sensitivity, she thought. Clearly normal.
House, as the observant individual he wore pride in being, noticed. A faint smirk curled on his lips. He was very known for his professionalism, so he couldn’t help but show it.
“You getting the shivers?” He spoke, his knuckles redoing the same feather-like movement across her skin, to which Cuddy had no control over her body to not react. It sent a tingle down her spine. She palms her face, her hair disheveled. That earns a silent chuckle from House.
“Last time I saw you like this, it ended—Well, we both know how.” He stammers comically.
Cuddy didnt even have the energy to react, both physically and mentally. She was already used to the countless teasing. However, she couldn’t help her mind from wandering back to those times..Twenty years ago..No. That’s a closed book. End. Fino.
-
It didnt take long for House to figure out what was actually wrong (as he always does). It was all because of reckless thinking and being uninformed of the consequences of going on a plane after scuba diving. And obviously, we can’t forget about the effect of “mass hysteria”, the one that makes people puke everywhere, grow a rash out of nowhere and get tremors in the left hand. How stupid.
All that that’s left now is 10 hours of sitting in the same uncomfortable chair, next to a middle-aged man who’ll make your ride a living hell by snoring for hours straight, until you reach New Jersey. Great. House decided to preoccupy himself with a podcast about Mandarin learning tips. It was surprisingly effective (that, and the stripper he hires every week to teach him a couple phrases for a few more bucks).
Cuddy wasnt as lucky either. Though shes now sitting in first class, she couldn’t shake off a certain feeling. Her mind was troubled, and not even her favorite book could keep her distracted. She knew House was always a jerk and craved the attention he got by getting into people’s heads with his wit, but that still didnt convince her to why he would suddenly bring up that long lost memory. He was surely just being..House. Right?
After a few minutes, Cuddy stood up and walked down the aisle in search of the bathroom, a bit dazed. Trying to be as discreet as possible, she made her way to the door and as soon as she entered, Cuddy quickly splashed her face with water. She braced herself on the counter, breathing deeply. This was really getting to her. She swallowed a lump in her throat, her heart picking up the pace a tad faster, a drop of sweat starting to form on her temples. All she could think about was how stupidly his hands still made her feel. Those stupid, long, calloused fingers, that knew exactly how to—
Knock knock.
Cuddy blinks once. Twice. It takes a bit longer before she responds.
“Occupied.”
“No habla Ingles.”
Cuddy sighs, recognising the voice behind the door in an instant. Mid-sigh, her jaw drops a bit more when she notices the door handle opening, and in no time House was standing in front of her, his yellow Hawaiian shirt not even a few inches from her face.
“House, what the—?!” Cuddy backs up (actually, House sort of forces her to so he could fit in), but is stopped by a wall. Damn planes and their tight and narrow bathrooms.
“Dont fret, woman, I have come to your rescue.”
Cuddy stares at him, half in disbelief, half in expectation, crossing her arms over her chest, raising an eyebrow.
“Didnt want you drowning in the toilet, y’know. I read that a guy’s organs got sucked out because of these things!” House continued, dramatically expressive. After noting Cuddy barely reacting to his marvellous attempt at humour, his mood dropped to a more serious tone.
“I saw you back there, legs all wobbly, slightly panicked.” He elaborates.
“And now that I’m closer..” He narrowed his eyes a bit, analysing the woman before him.
“…You’re sweating, probably tachycardic as well.” He cocks his jaw, tilting his head to the side subtly, as if studying her.
“Yes, House, is acrophobia so uncommon?” Cuddy throws her hands in the air, then pinches the bridge of her nose, her free hand on her hip.
“Im fine, I dont need a personal bodyguard. Believe me, you’d be the last option on the list. Now if you’ll excuse me..”
Cuddy manages to move past him and reach the handle, but when she tries opening it..
“You can’t be serious..” Cuddy swears under her breath.
It wouldn’t budge.
House, however, doesnt move from his position, and as if unfazed by their current situation, he carries on.
“I dont buy it.”
Cuddy manages a frustrated chuckle, meanwhile banging on the door, the next step in her mind is calling for help.
“Well I’m not selling it.” she almost barks.
“Why so flared up? Cmon, Im not such bad company.”
“Many would disagree.”
Footsteps could be heard from outside, then a voice.
“Ma’am?” The muffled voice of a stewardese replies.
“Yes, the door is jammed. Could you please get someone here to fix this?”
“Right away!”
Cuddy slumps on the toilet seat, exhaling deeply. Now, her thoughts from earlier were quite literally invading her private space. Crap.
“You wouldnt lie just for the sake of it..” House continues, deep in thought, more to himself but loud enough for Cuddy to hear.
Cuddy was still burying her face into her palms, deciding not to engage with him. Not because she didnt want to - a good banter ala House & Cuddy always brightens up the day - but because she really couldn’t in her current state.
The awkward silence after that was broken by the same muffled voice behind the door.
“Ma’am, we apologise but you’re gonna have to wait a little longer, our captain’s orders. We need to wait for the plane to be set in autopilot mode, for safety reasons.”
“What?!” Cuddy exclaimed, her face twisting in irritation. “How long specifically?”
“Around one hour. We sincerely apologise, that’s all we can do at the moment.”
“Crap!..” Cuddy spat through her teeth, now leaning back against the wall, face showing defeat. House mirrored her position, leaning on the door. For a moment, they just plainly stared at each other, though House seemed to be..contemplating. Surprisingly, he was the first one to advert his gaze from hers. There was a dash of..something Cuddy couldn’t quite put her finger on.
“How about a quickie?” House suddenly opens his mouth, that crack in his mask fading like it wasnt even there, replaced by his usual sass. Taken aback, Cuddy…huffs a laugh. She pins him down with her look again, House’s smirk and his exaggerated wiggle of his eyebrows earning him a light pat on his chest.
“Thanks for the offer, but I’ll pass. The environment is simply..not quickie-like.”
“Oh, ho-ho..Lets be honest. A quickie can be done anywhere.”
Cuddy replied with one of her unconvinced smiles, retreating her palm from his chest.
Silence grew between them again, and House quickly wetted his lips and opened his mouth, but soon closed it. Cuddy was blatantly confused. Just then she realised his cane was no where to be seen. He must be hurting.
“You okay?” Cuddy spoke up, her voice carrying a hint of softness. House, disturbed from his train of thoughts, looked her up and down, trying to mask his uncomfiness.
“Thriving. Locked in a flying coffin with my boss. Living the dream.”
Cuddy didnt answer. It was pointless. She knew she’d be met with more remarks like these than genuine ones. Although..
“Thats not all there is, is it?” Cuddy lifted her head, which was followed by House swallowing. That was her signal to continue.
“You deflect,” she continued. “You always have. Jokes, innuendo, provocation..it’s your favorite trick.”
House tilts his head to the side, already trying to avoid this conversation, to look for an escape route that wasnt even there.
The moment she opens her mouth to speak again, the ground shakes under them, Cuddy instinctively reaching for something solid to hold onto. That something happened to be House’s arm. He braced himself against the sink with a sharp hiss, pain flashing across his face before he could mask it.
Too late. She saw it.
“You don’t have your cane,” she gave word to her previous thoughts.
“Observant,” he muttered.
She didn’t let go.
Her fingers were warm through his sleeve. Close. Familiar. His breath hitched, just slightly, and that was enough.
She realized she was still holding him. Neither of them moved.
“Careful, woman. Cripple here.” House raised one hand, defensively.
Cuddy shot him a look, then sighed. He was, as usual, trying to change the subject when the matters got too serious. He, of course, had realised his attempt clearly failed, his smirk slowly fading, and lowered his head.
“Sit.” It wasnt a request. With a scoff, he complied, shifting his weight awkwardly. The bathroom suddenly felt even smaller. Cuddy crouched in front of him, professional instinct overriding common sense. Her hand hovered near his knee.
“You’re guarding it,” she noted.
“Wow,” he said. “You’ve discovered pain.”
Her fingers brushed his leg anyway—testing, gentle. He inhaled sharply before he could stop himself.
They froze.
Slowly, she looked up.
Their faces were far too close.
“There are no jokes right now,” she said softly. “Are there?”
His lips twitched. Failed.
“This was over before it even started,” he said, the words rougher than he intended.
“Then stop looking at me like that,” she replied.
Silence.
The plane hummed around them. House shifted, unsteady, and reached out to steady himself. His hand landed at her hip.
His fingers twitched. Restraint. He looked her in the eye, when he noted no hint of resistance. She should’ve stepped back. She didnt.
“This isnt smart.” he murmured.
“You always say that.”
“Im usually right.”
“And yet..” she replied, still not moving. His thumb flexed slightly against her side. His resolve was slowly crumbling. So was hers.
The bathroom was built for one person and bad decisions, not two people who had spent years pretending they didn’t want each other.
But now…
His hand, still steadying on her hip, grew bolder, beginning to travel north. His free hand mirrored the other, now both of them trailing down her sides. Searching..Exploring…Remembering. They come to a halt on her waist, gripping it gently, pulling her closer, earning a silent gasp from Cuddy.
He looked up through his lashes, locking eyes with her, desperately seeking for a hint of doubt to put a stop to this. However, he was met with the complete opposite. The tension had finally reached its peak, on the brink of snapping. That’s when House’s face inched closer to her torso, his hands now making their way to unbutton her shirt. He was moving slow, calculating almost. Cuddy’s hands braced on his shoulders, an encouraging gesture. Soon, her shirt was discarded, a white laced top underneath it. Cuddy’s breathing hitched as his fingers moved to take it off for her, his knuckles grazing her skin. The cool air hit her freshly exposed skin, and House stopped for a couple moments to take her in, and it was obvious he was lusting for her. Not in a dirty way, though. As she already knew, or better said, once knew, he liked worshipping her body.
“Still matching with what’s downstairs, huh?” he commented at her laced black bra, making Cuddy’s lips curl in a smile.
His lips finally made contact, peppering her smooth skin with sensual kisses, his palms flat on her back, but not unmoving. They were snaking up, headed towards the clasp of her bra. He was taking his time. House loved testing her patience, to feel her shivers every time his lips would make contact with her skin, even barely. Cuddy’s laboured breathing urged him to pick up the pace, his fingers swiftly unhooking her bra.
When the piece of clothing hit the ground, House’s lips parted instinctively, drinking her in. He trailed his paths of kisses upwards, in the valley between her breasts, before closing his mouth around one of her already hardened nipples. His hand came up and took care of the other one, as best as he knew. The noises that were drawn out from Cuddy’s throat were unknown even to her. She palmed her mouth, muffling her cries. He offered the same attention to her other breast, taking pride in being a chest-man above anything else. Her hands clutched on his hair, holding him in place.
“Get up.” Cuddy said breathlessly, and House didnt need to be told twice. As soon as he stood up, she gripped the collar of his shirt and soon his back found the wall, his thigh in between her legs. The tightness in his jeans was almost unbearable. Her hands were then frantically on him, trying to remove his clothes. Meanwhile, he was busy pressing open-mouthed kisses on her collarbone. His shirt soon joined the pile of clothes, Cuddy’s hands now wandering with a feather-like touch on his bare skin. His chest, his abdomen and pectorals, her hands exploring with barely any contained restraint, making his muscles twitch. She was absorbed in his beauty. And so was he, in hers. A gentle hand coaxed her chin to lift, and as soon as their eyes met, no words needed to be said.
Neither Cuddy or House knew who leaned in first, their lips grazing each other’s. Sensual. Warm. Familiar. It was longing in its true form. Pure. Genuine. They moved in perfect sync, as if their bodies were trying to remember how the other’s felt. Even after all those years..
Cuddy was the one to initiate, her tongue parting House’s lips and entering his mouth, meeting with his. It started slow, testing, but it soon grew in pure want. Pure need. It was a clash of tongues and teeth. He broke contact briefly, enough for him to reach under Cuddy’s thighs and lift her, spinning her so the roles were reversed. Her bare back hit the cold wall, making her arch slightly against it. She was holding on him oh so tightly, her nails dragging up and down his back. Both of their breathings were heavy, messy and uneven. House rested his forehead against hers, closing his eyes briefly. This was reality. This was actually happening. His eyes snapped open, jaw slightly dropping when he felt a hand cupping him through his jeans.
“Cuddy…”
That murmur..That prayer was all Cuddy wanted to hear. Her name sounded so pretty on his lips. His zipper was slowly dragged down, the sound sending a thrill of anticipation through both of them. He let them fall, the tent in his boxers making Cuddy swallow. Before she could reach it, a hand grabbed her wrist, stopping her. As soon as she opened her mouth to speak, another sound of a zipper was heard. Hers. House let her down on her feet, and Cuddy watched him drop to his knees, rolling her jeans over her hips and letting them drop, as well. His hands got ahold of the back of her thighs.
“House..” Cuddy muttered, her body tingling with anticipation.
“Let me make you feel good.” House murmured, eyes glimmering with need.
He started showering her legs with kisses, all the way up from her ankles to her thighs. Cuddy swallowed, her heart hammering out of her chest, almost ringing in her ears. He nudged her thighs with his nose, coaxing them open. He smiled to himself when he saw the same pair of underwear he saw not so long ago.
He has seen these before. That night in Michigan..
House’s train of though was interrupted when he felt a hand clasping his hair. Not to rush him, but to hold onto him. He looked up, watching Cuddy’s expression contort into a delicious neediness. House doesn’t even think of breaking eye contact when his tongue drags a slow lick through her panties, making her breath catch in her throat. Not wanting to torture her any longer, his finger hooked underneath the fabric and dragged it down her legs, her glistening folds now fully exposed to him. He didnt waste any time on delving his tongue into her, knowing exactly which spots to touch and suck on. The sounds he drew from Cuddy were almost obscene, and she had to swallow so many noises. Her palm stiffling them was not sufficiently effective.
“Oh God..” she whined.
It didnt take long for her to reach the brink of pleasure, House only then using one of his fingers to rub circles on her clit. Cuddy’s thighs uncontrollably started buckling, pressing against his sides of his head. That didnt stop him from inserting two long fingers into her, which made Cuddy cry out.
“I got you. I got you..” House murmured.
“Hhhmm!..” Cuddy’s muffled moan of his name made House hum in approval, and she could feel her inner walls fluttering. Two thrusts of his fingers was all it took for Cuddy to be pushed over the edge, unraveling herself to him completely.
House rode her through the aftermath, lapping at her like a thirsty dog, her juices dripping down his chin, which he wiped with the back of his hand. He held her tight, until he was sure she regained her composure.
“What is it you said earlier..Hmm..Ah, that this environment was not “quickie-like”?” he spoke, his sarcasm showing even now.
That made Cuddy smile, and she helped him up.
“Well, Im not sure who exactly once said that a quickie can be done anywhere.”
House smirked at that, getting up on his feet, a sharp pain almost making him lose balance. Cuddy gripped him by his forearms.
“Your Vicodin?” she asked, her eyes glimpsing with worry, however her tone not carrying any hint of pity. She knew House resented that.
“Back there.” He cocked his head, pointing at the door, his hand starting to massage his thigh. He took a step to the side and lowered his weight on the toilet seat, his teeth clenched and jaw tense. Seeing him like this was Cuddy’s constant reminder of her mistake as a doctor. She tried convincing herself so many times that blaming herself was pointless. That it wasn’t her fault. Yet..
Cuddy stepped closer, taking his face in her palms, her thumbs running over his stubbles in an affectionate manner. House’s head raised, his hand coming up to rest on hers, a reassuring gesture. As if he read her mind. Leaning into her touch, he basked in the softness of her skin, holding her tightly like she would slip away if he didnt. He let out a trembling breath, and almost choked on it when he heard the sound of his zipper going down. House opened his eyes, carefully watching her hand undress him. He lifted his hips, enough for her to roll his jeans over them. He gripped the wall, a look of…discomfort when his pants hit the floor. She noticed, and instantly found the reason. It was staring her in the face now, the cause of his tremendous amount of pain that has haunted him for so long. She couldnt help but furrow her eyebrows, her hand ghosting a few inches above the scar. It was violent.
“Don’t..” House muttered, so quietly that he didnt know whether he thought or said it out loud. It wasnt uttered with hate, and she knew.
“Okay.” Cuddy answered, her tone understanding and gave a small nod. The next thing she noticed was the tent in his boxers, making her swallow. Her fingers hovered above it for a moment before tracing the outlines of it, drawing a sharp breath out of House. She was rather impatient, and soon after his boxers were discarded somewhere on the floor. Cuddy took him in one hand, stroking gently up and down. House threw his head back, unable to maintain his composure, a few barely audible groans coming out of his throat. Her fingers worked relentlessly, and she fought the urge of just taking him in her mouth and making him explode with pleasure. However, she waited until his tip started leaking with precum, and drew her hand away. House shuddered at the loss of contact, but it wasnt gonna last long.
Cuddy straddled him, bracing herself on his shoulders. House’s hands reached for her hips, anchoring her while she was positioning his dick with her entrance. In one slow motion, she carefully lowered herself onto him, sending a thrill of electricity through both of them. House took a shaky breath in, and Cuddy released one she didnt even realise she was holding. His fingers twitched on her hips, slightly digging in. After she adjusted to his length, she started moving her hips, him guiding her at the same time. With every thrust, both of their restraints weakened, Cuddy’s snapping first. She lowered her head, her lips and tongue trailing heated kisses along his collarbone. House tilted his head in compliance, allowing her more space. A half groan half moan left his lips when teeth made contact with his skin, a red mark now ghosting his skin. He almost choked on his own moans when, simultaneously, she lowered herself fully on him in one smooth move.
“Jesus, woman..” House breathed out, too lost in the sensation, his Adam’s apple bobbing.
His fingers were digging so hard into her skin to leave bruises, and House knew he hit the spot when Cuddy arched towards him, a delicious moan leaving her body. His lips were soon on hers, swallowing every noise. It grew more insistent, passionate, raw. Everything about it was primal. Human flesh slapping human flesh in a sweaty, messy dance that somehow was the most perfect thing in the world at the moment. House, however, was more anchored into reality than Cuddy, using his palm to cover her mouth entirely.
“I have to…Fuck—“ Another groan erupted from his throat.
When she felt her walls flutter again, she frantically gripped her hands on his back, sharp nails digging in desperately. House’s hand ricocheted the loud moans that Cuddy left out when she reached her peak, a train of emotions hitting her like a brick. She coated his dick with her liquid, and House soon followed, pulling out in the last second. She collapsed on him, House’s chin resting on her shoulder, both panting and catching their breaths.
They stayed like that for a while, basking in the afterglow. House’s thumb was stroking Cuddy’s lower back with such a soft touch she could hardly feel it, but knew it was there. She pressed a kiss to his shoulder, and raised her head until she was at eye-level with him. His look mirrored hers, one of pure bliss.
“You wanna kiss me again dont you?” She murmured, a faint smile plastered on her face.
“I always want to kiss you.”