[house/cameron] sinned

Okay, kids. This one almost killed me. It started off as a 300-something word drabble, and then it turned into this. Whatever this is. Just.. please, remember. It took me weeks and I almost died at least three times writing it, so be nice. Also, it's completely unbeta-ed.

Plus, it's my birthday. *grins*

Enjoy!

For: teenwitch77
Prompt: sinned [house/cameron]
Fandom: house md
Rating: r; oh yes, it's r
Word Count: 3, 506



luxuria (lust)
- lust prevents clarity of thought and rational behaviour

He can’t stop thinking about her.

It began innocently enough. With small thoughts and images of her slipping into his mind; slowly and softly and subtle enough so that he could almost pretend that they weren’t there. Occasionally, he’d find himself thinking about the corner of her lips; about the colour and the shape and then he’d think about kissing her there and in the beginning, he was able to shake his head and squash the thought down and be done with it.

Slowly, he started thinking about her more frequently. In the shower, sipping his coffee, swallowing a Vicodin (or two), riding the elevator. He’d think about the skin on the side of her neck, the dip where it meets her shoulder, and then he’d shake his head and try to squash the thought down. But it wouldn’t go away. Instead, he’d find his palms start to sweat as he thought about what that dip of skin would taste like.

Now, he can’t stop thinking about her. He’s tried to. Alcohol. Pills. He’s lashed out at her, hoping that the hurt look in her eyes would somehow erase the thoughts that consume him.

It only made him want her even worse.

Now, he cannot pretend and he cannot squash it down.

It’s early. He’s been here all night, revelling in how empty and quiet his office can be. She’s just arrived, fresh and so close to glowing it almost blinds him. She enters the room, her hair tied neatly at the nape of her neck. She begins to say something pollyannaish and upbeat, something like good morning, but before she can finish he moves out of his chair without a word. Steps towards her. She pauses, and watches him.

He doesn’t stop moving closer, and she’s startled by this so she moves backwards. And this continues, until her back is pressed against the wall and she’s looking up at him with something that looks a little like fear, a little like want.

House presses up against her, and his eyes immediately seek out that dip of skin, where her neck meets her shoulder. He raises a hand and reaches for it. His fingers hover above her skin for a moment before he runs them down the side of her neck. Her eyelids flutter, and her breathing hitches and suddenly, he feels something hot and thunderous flare up inside of him and it fills him completely and he can’t feel anything else. Just the extreme warmth coursing through his skin and her body against his.

He kisses her.


gula (gluttony)
- gluttony is marked by refusal to share and unreasonable consumption of more than is necessary

He kisses her hard.

He’s got Cameron trapped; his cane has fallen to the ground and his arms are leaning against the wall on either side of her. They are so close that there is no air between them. House pushes further into her still, and a moan escapes from the back of her throat. Her eyes are closed and her heart is beating wildly and he likes this and wants more.

He breaks the kiss and looks at her. Her eyes open slowly, and as she tries to steady her breathing she licks at her now swollen lips. His eyes are once again drawn to the angle of skin, where neck meets shoulder, and now he dips his head and presses his lips there. Soft, at first, but she lets out a hiss and he can’t stop himself from kissing a little harder, drawing his teeth across the skin. And she grabs at his shoulder and whimpers, so he sinks his teeth down and bites, his tongue flicking across momentarily.

He feels her melt against him.

He likes this and wants more.

One hand moves away from the wall and seeks out her waist. He feels a shudder at his touch, and smiles against her skin. He moves his hand under her shirt and brushes his fingers against the sensitive skin at her side. He moves his mouth up her neck -- slowly -- and breathes against her ear.

“Do you want me?”

Her eyes are closed again, and she nods quickly and sharply. Her hands are clutching at his back. “Yes.”

He captures her lips roughly with his, and sweeps his tongue against them. His hand dances in feather light circles across her stomach, inching upwards easily and he feels her arch into him, wanting more. He works his fingers to the swell of her breast, moves them under her bra and finds her nipple. His touch ghosts against it, and she gives a whispered moan.

Her voice is strained; hoarse and needing. “House... I want you.”

He likes this. Wants even more.


avaritia (greed)
- greed is a strong desire to obtain more than one needs

Cameron sees the way his eyes darken, and suddenly her skin feels like it’s burning. His hands are on her -- light and caressing and soft -- and she bites her lip because she wants them all over her body, wants them harder and rougher and pulling at her.

He’s working the buttons of her blouse, peeling away the material slowly, and she shivers at the rush of cold air meeting her skin. Her eyes open, and she remembers that it’s Wednesday morning and they’re up against his office wall and Foreman or Chase or Wilson or Cuddy or anyone could come walking in and see them...

And she doesn’t care.

Her blouse flutters to the floor, and House’s fingertips brush against her bare collarbone. She exhales and grabs a fistful of his shirt, pulling him even closer. He kisses her again, and his teeth graze her bottom lip. She hisses and grinds her hips into his, and he pulls back and smirks at her, a single eyebrow raised.

She can’t stand the heat that is pooling in the pit of her stomach, faster and faster. She lunges forward and captures the side of his neck with her teeth, and she bites down hard. It’s his turn to push forward now, and he mutters lowly. “Fuck”. He trails his hand down from her breast, to her stomach, to the waist band of her pants. She’s squirming against him as he dips his hand, past the soft tendrils and his fingers enter her.

She inhales sharply, and murmurs something under her breath, and it feels so good but she wants more of him. Isn’t satisfied and needs him. He’s pumping his fingers, in and out, and she brings her mouth up to his ear and whispers.

“I want you in me.”

House almost growls, something low and deep in his throat, and he reaches for his zipper and frees himself. Cameron wriggles out of her pants, desperate. She clutches at his shoulders as he pushes inside of her, and moans. He’s breathing heavily, and so is she, and she can feel the sweat forming in the small of her back. He moves slowly and steadily and his hand moves under her bra to flick at her nipple.

She breathes in and out. “Oh, God. Harder.”

He complies, grunting as he begins to slam into her. She claws at his back, wraps one leg around him. “Deeper, House..”

And it’s starting to hurt, but she doesn’t want him to slow down, to stop. Doesn’t ever want him to stop. She feels her head knock back against the wall -- hard -- but she’s breathing so hard and her skin is still burning and she can feel the muscles in his back clench underneath her hands and it’s all just too much, too much, but she wants more.

House ducks his head, pressing his lips to her neck, as he moans and spills into her. At this, Cameron feels herself swell and burst and bloom and her knees shake as they stand there, pressed together and breathing heavily.

She’s still clutching at his shoulders, still has a leg wrapped around him. She feels worn out and satisfied and she aches more than just a little, and yet she can’t help but find herself wanting to do it all over again.


acedia (sloth)
- sloth is idleness, wastefulness, and only leads to despair

House doesn’t want to move. He doesn’t even want to open his eyes. He feels relaxed, and warm, and utterly content. He can feel her running her fingers across his shoulders; moving in circles and swirls and other shapes that he can’t quite make out. Her breath is warm on his cheek and he can feel her heart beating in her chest. He can even almost pretend that his leg isn’t bothering him that much, because he’s still inside of her and it makes his stomach feel a little lighter than normal.

He doesn’t want to open his eyes. Then, he’d see her in front of him. He’d see her eyes; the way they sparkle when she looks at him. He’d see her mouth, smiling at him. He’d see her hair; all mussed and dishevelled (from when he grabbed a fistful of it and pulled her head towards him). He’d see her, and he doesn’t want to deal with that.

Doesn’t want to. Can’t.

“House.” Her fingers trace his jaw, and he keeps his eyes closed.

Swallowing, he steps away from her, disentangling himself from her arms. He’s struck with a sudden wave of cold air at their release, and he feels a shiver begin to run down his spine. He straightens his back and braces his shoulders, keeping still despite it.

Cameron narrows her eyes as she watches him move away, but says nothing. She glances down as she buttons her blouse back up. Stays silent as she bends down, picks up her pants and steps back into them. She watches as he does his zipper up, standing a little lop-sided without his cane. She reaches down for it and steps forward, handing it back to him.

“Thanks,” he mutters as he takes it from her, his eyes cast downward and not leaving the floor.

She fixes her hair, tying it back into a loose ponytail. She takes in a breath and lets it out loudly. She moves towards the door, and then turns back to him.

“I’m not even going to pretend that I’m going to be okay with leaving things like this.” She hunches her shoulders and crosses her arms over her chest, like she’s cold. “We have to talk about it.”

House blinks, his gaze still cemented on the floor. “About what?”

She waves her hand sharply and lowers her voice. “About what just happened here. We need -- at least, I need to talk to you about this.”

Finally, he looks up at her. And immediately wishes he hadn’t. She’s standing there, staring straight at him, and there’s a desperation in her eyes that causes his lungs to clench. He can see a bite mark on her neck -- a bite mark he had left -- red and abrasive against her porcelain skin.

“House?”

The waver in her voice makes him grip a little tighter onto his cane. He feels like he should say something to her, let her talk, just do whatever it is that she needs to make her feel okay. But now all he can focus on is that bite mark on her neck and his leg is starting to scream at him and he can’t do it.

He turns away from her. “I need more Vicodin.”


ira (wrath)
- wrath is inappropriate anger or hatred; and the denial of truth to others and self

She follows him, because she feels as though her blood is burning inside of her, and she needs to move. Cannot stay in his office. Cannot continue to stand near that wall. She needs to move.

She’s walking behind him and her eyes focus on his shoulders as he moves. She tries to think of something to yell out to him, to make him stop and turn around and just talk to her, but there’s so many words and images and feelings that are spinning through her mind that she can’t concentrate on anything logical or mature. And the words are out of her mouth before she can stop them.

“We’re not done!”

The hospital corridors are filled with people now, and they all turn towards her with their eyebrows raised. House stops walking and pauses. He turns around and walks towards her. He grabs her arm and leans in. “If you want to keep yelling at me, fine. But if you’re going to do it out here and entertain everyone, I say we start charging.”

Cameron frowns at him, but does not pull her arm out of his grip. They move into an open room, and he closes the door behind them.

He taps his cane on the ground, and cocks his head. “You were saying?”

“I need for you --” she pauses, her frown deepening. “Are you actually going to stand there and listen to me?”

“Is that so surprising?”

She scoffs. “Yes. You get scared and you run. You’re constantly running away.”

House shakes his head. “I’m constantly running away?”

Cameron throws her hands up in the air, frustrated. “Yes! What do you think happened back there? We had SEX, House. And you ran away from me!”

“I needed more Vicodin.” He grits his teeth through his words, wanting nothing more than to go down to the pharmacy and pick up some more of his pills. His thigh is angry and screaming now, but he stays, because he will not let her think that he’s running.

“And that’s it? You walked away because you needed your pills?”

He doesn’t even hesitate. “Yes.”

She blinks. “That’s bullshit. You’re scared about what happened between us.”

“You’re the one who’s scared!” He points at her, and absently runs a hand down his aching thigh, hissing slightly at the pain that courses through his leg. “Look at you! You can’t let it go! You’re petrified.”

“Of what?”

His gaze is hard, and does not falter. “Of the fact that it was just sex.”


invidia (envy)
- envy is the resentment of others, and wishing them to fail

He’s not sure what makes him say it. And when he watches her crumble right in front of him, it nearly makes him wish he hadn’t said it.

She feels herself fall apart as she breathes out, and her head starts to spin violently. Too much has happened in the space of an hour, and she can’t handle it. She can still feel him between her legs, can still feel him sink his teeth into her shoulder, can still hear him muttering her name under his breath. And now, she can see him standing right in front of her, and she’s falling apart.

She lifts a hand to her head, trying to steady herself. “I --”

House watches her, uncomfortable and with no idea of what to do. He watches her stumble on her feet, and hold her head, and he’s practically waiting for her to collapse and just get it over with.

Then the door opens, and Wilson walks in.

“House, I’ve tried buying you time but Cuddy really --”, his gaze immediately flies to Cameron, who’s shaking and her eyelids are fluttering, and within a second he’s by her side and holding onto her steadily.

“Cameron? Are you alright? Are you okay?”

House narrows his eyes slightly at the way Wilson holds onto her hand; grasping and tight and warm, but then clucks his tongue and rolls his eyes. “Try asking her in french. Maybe she’ll answer you then.”

Wilson shoots him a glare, and sits Cameron down. He kneels in front of her, still holding her hand. “Look at me, Cameron.”

Her chest is rising and falling quickly, erratically, and she can’t manage to focus on him. He brings a hand up and cups her cheek, steadying her gaze. His voice is calm and caring and firm. “Allison. Look at me.”

And before House has a chance to quirk his eyebrow at the use of her first name, he notices that now -- now -- she’s looking at Wilson with her complete attention, and her breathing is starting to calm down and then he notices that she’s holding his hand back.

Wilson’s hand is still at her cheek, and he lightly caresses it with his thumb. “Hey. Are you alright?”

She nods, her breaths coming in deep and slow. She bites at her lower lip and ducks her head. “I’m sorry. I just... I felt a little...”

“It’s okay. You don’t need to explain yourself.” He glances over his shoulder at House. “Others really, really do, but you most certainly don’t.”

House tries to look annoyed, but all of a sudden his mouth has gone dry and he can’t just stand here, watching them anymore. “Well, you two enjoy your little heart to heart. Try not to talk about me too much, okay? I’d love to stick around, but I’ve got drugs to take.”

Wilson stands up quickly. “Greg.”

He waves him away. “No time for a lecture now, Jimmy.” He spares a quick glance over to Cameron, and he sees that she’s not even looking at him.

He leaves as fast as he can. Wilson’s talking to Cameron again, his voice all comforting and warmth and House can’t hear any more of it.


superbia (pride)
- pride is the desire to be more important than others and is the father of all sins. It will lead to the destruction of the sinner

It’s late in the day, and House has refilled his Vicodin prescription and taken enough pills so that his leg is numb and no longer screaming at him. He also feels a numbness, heavy in the pit of his stomach, and he wonders if that’s from the pills too.

He sits in his office, alone, as he did at the beginning of the day. His mind begins to think about how the morning started, how he was consumed with thoughts of Cameron and taking her. Now, he’s had her. And he’s back here, sitting in his office and thinking about her all over again.

How fitting.

Foreman swings the door open without knocking, and the corners of his lips twitch as he looks down at House. “You staying late again tonight?”

“I have important paper work to do.”

He gives something that resembles a laugh. “Yeah, okay.”

House waits a few seconds, expecting him to say goodnight and leave or give him a lecture about the way he spoke to their patient’s parents earlier that afternoon. Instead, Foreman continues to stand by the door, not saying anything.

“Got something else to say, bro?”

He hesitates, but then shakes his head. “Nah. Goodnight, House. See you tomorrow.”

The door clicks shut behind him, and House lowers his head, alone once again. He closes his eyes, and wonders if Wilson would be in any mood for a drink later on.

He hears his door open again, and he doesn’t even bother to raise his head or open his eyes. “Yes, Eric? Decided to give me that lecture after all?”

When there’s no reply and just the sound of soft footsteps padding towards him, he opens his eyes. He’s greeted with the sight of Cameron standing over him, her hands by her side. He studies her carefully; unsure of what reason she’d have to be here again. Her eyes are bright, but there’s something behind them that makes his insides twitch.

He speaks first, and he tries to make sure his voice remains glib. “Sick of Wilson already?”

She doesn’t react to his words. Only moves forward, and she’s close enough now that he can hear her breathing. She takes a step forward, and reaches out, runs her hand down his chest.

He’s a little thrown by this. He expected her to talk, to yell, even to cry. But this? “Cameron, what --”

“Shhh,” she whispers, and she doesn’t even sound like herself.

Cameron licks at her lips and sits on his lap, straddling him. She moves her hips slowly against him, and closes her eyes when she feels his cock straining against her. She grabs the hem of her blouse, and pulls it over her head. Then she reaches for House’s hand, and places it on her breast.

He looks at her. They lock eyes. He asks her, why?, without words and she answers him. “I’m not scared of it just being sex.” And she kisses him before he can say anything back.

House feels her nipple hardening under his touch, against the fabric of her bra, and he can’t help but let out a groan as she runs her tongue down his neck. He holds her close, and sighs when she moves her hand to his zipper. He bites down on her shoulder -- hard -- tastes blood on his tongue, and realises what it was that he saw in her eyes.

Defeat.

And it makes him want her more.




THE END.