If Looks Could Kill (Part 6)
(a/n: The scene at the end of this gets highly NC-17ish. I couldn't get the cut thing to work properly. You Have Been Warned. Also, there is a reference to something that sounds like it might be physically impossible but it does, in fact, happen, although it's pretty rare.)
Much later, Cuddy called me to her office. "I know you don't work here in an official capacity and I'm not in charge of volunteer workers, so I can't really order you to do anything, but I'd like to ask a favor of you."
"Oh shit, here it comes," I thought. "She's going to tell me to leave House alone."
"House has recovered enough to be discharged from the hospital but he's not sufficiently better to the point where he can really manage completely by himself. If I send an official in-home caregiver over to his place he'll just create as many problems as he possibly can. I want you to do it."
"Isn't he going to object to me doing it?"
"What I'm about to tell you is in the strictest confidence. You are not to tell anybody you know this, especially not House. It was his idea."
House was very quiet on the taxi ride from the hospital to his place but he had his arm around me the whole time. The minute the heavy wooden door closed and the cab drove away he hugged me. I heard a very faint snuffling sound but nothing else; I just held him gently, as I could feel my shoulder where he rested his head getting damp.
Eventually, he let go. "I'm exhausted." He removed his sneakers, socks and jacket but kept everything else on. "I'm gonna go take a nap."
"You don't have any groceries. I can go pick something up and make dinner and it could be ready by the time you get up."
"Most intelligent thing I've heard in a long time." He pulled out his wallet and handed me some bills.
"You've given me way too much, this is three hundred dollars!"
"Who said that was just for tonight?" He kissed me lightly on the lips, hobbled into his bedroom and closed the door.
Later that day when he came out of the bedroom, he saw a large pan of lasagna and a loaf of garlic bread on the table and me on his couch reading.
I smiled right at him. "Hi. I'm sorry dessert's not ready yet."
"I would have been satisfied with a peanut butter sandwich and a can of Campbell's, you didn't have to get takeout!"
"What do you mean 'takeout'? I made this!"
I sort of expected him to pick at his food but he ate heartily, then went from the table to the couch and sprawled on it, looking more relaxed than I'd seen him in a very long time.
I wiped stray sauce from my mouth, put the leftovers in his fridge and went over to his stereo. "You've always had such a great music collection. It OK if I put on some Stones?"
"Go right ahead." I picked Sticky Fingers and put it on.
"I started making chocolate mousse but the way I make it you have to start the day before you're going to serve it so I bought some ice cream too. Don't get up. I'll bring you a bowl."
I handed him a large one and a spoon. "If I recall correctly you like strawberry?"
"I love strawberry. You're not having any?"
"I don't like strawberry."
His eyes looked bigger and sadder suddenly. "Why are you being so nice to me?" he almost whispered.
"Because you deserve it, whether you think so or not."
He sat there and ate the ice cream. I snuggled up to him.
"Wild Horses" started playing on the stereo and I felt as if a classic opportunity had just been dropped into my lap.
I leaned in and kissed him on the lips. He seemed startled but kissed back and it tasted like strawberry and I didn't mind.
We kissed for a really long time, from delicate little pecks to deep, wet French kisses, his arms wrapped around me like he was hanging on for dear life, my hands stroking his back.
"I think we might be a bit more comfortable in your bedroom."
"There's something I need to warn you about. Because of what I've been through physically, I might not be able to get it up," he said as I helped him to his feet. "I don't want you to think this is any kind of a negative reflection on you."
We went into his bedroom and I said, "OK, but I want to try."
We sat down on his bed and he said, "Well, my fingers and tongue still work, I can certainly get you off in that way even if I can't fuck."
I opened his fly and started to pull down his jeans and gently rub the soft skin of his flat belly. He pulled his jeans and underpants down further and I lightly tickled his balls and wrapped my fingers around his cock, caressing the shaft, the foreskin and the head tenderly but firmly. He wasn't getting an erection but I was obviously making him feel really good judging from the breathy little moans he was making. His eyes were closed and his jaw went a bit slack.
Then I heard it, quietly, but very clearly. "Ohhh, Wilson...."
His eyes snapped open and he looked as if he wanted to crawl into a hole. "Shit."
I kissed him tenderly. "It's OK."
"I do not believe I just said that! And you're not even pissed at me?!"
"It was obviously an accident, you've been through pure hell lately. Anyway, I llllike you too much to get pissed at you for something like that." I drew out the "l" in "like" because I was going to say "love" but I chickened out.
"Why are you so attracted to me in the first place?"
"Because you're smart and witty and you don't put up with bullshit and you are not boring and I think down deep you're a decent person under all the nastiness and you're fucking gorgeous and it has nothing at all to do with pity or wanting to 'fix' you."
Long pause. He smiled.
"You've wanted to say that to me for a long time, haven't you?"
He reached forward and started to pull my shirt off, then leaned in and kissed my cleavage, the feel of his fuzzy stubble on my breasts making me shiver and tingle. I peeled off my bra and he cupped his long fingers around one breast while licking, nuzzling and sucking the other one.
I took off my pants and underpants and he slid his other hand between my legs and rubbed my wet clit. I came really fast but he didn't stop, and I started having multiple orgasms. "Oh my God! Ooooooh, House, yeah!" He took his mouth off my breast and looked up at me with those beautiful big turquoise eyes and then began to kiss a slow, straight line right down my stomach, then paused, gently pushed my labia apart with his hands and gave me light licks and kisses all over before zeroing in on my clit, sucking it and tickling it with his luscious tongue, pushing me over the brink into complete ecstasy.
It took me a little while to recover from this. I took off my glasses and put my tongue over the head of his cock and he whimpered, "More, please." I circled my tongue around it, moving the foreskin back and forth, alternating between that and sucking his cock right down to his dark curly pubic hair. I kept doing this for quite some time, enjoying giving him pleasure, when suddenly his back arched and I tasted his come which surprised me because he didn't have an erection.
I swallowed and raised my head. He smiled, "Yeah, it's unusual but it does happen sometimes." He hugged me.
"I hope you don't mind, Greg," (first time I ever called him "Greg" and it didn't seem to bother him at all) "but I'm getting very tired, I think I wanna get some sleep, so I'll go out to your couch."
"Can't you sleep here with me?"
I kissed his neck. "Sure."