It doesn't have a happy ending
Set after Insensitive (3x14). Written before Half-Wit (3x15) aired.
Thank you so much to my betas Emily, Elizabeth and Alice for your help!
They didn't get weird about it the first time and they didn't get weird about it now.
They had rules. No sleepovers. No jealousy. No talking about it at work. They were both free to date and pursue relationships with other people. What theyhad wasn't even a relationship, it was just sex. Sex between friends, sex between colleagues.
However, the rules were soon broken.
They didn't fall in love, they just found it nice to have someone to hang out with. Someone their own age who understood what it was like to be thirty and have work consume your whole life.
They got drunk on red wine together the weekends neither of them was on call. They fooled around. First it was about sex (and the sex was good) - who could orgasm first, who could make the other one scream louder. The sex was wild and experimental; finding and discovering new ways to please each other.
Then it became hanging out together too - movies and laughter. Warming each other's toes. Brushing up against each other in the kitchen. Making cocoa mixed with alcohol and talking about the cartoons they grew up watching, the bands they listened as teenagers, and bad 80's hair, although his hair wasn't bad even then - he showed her pictures of him in his school uniform and his serious gaze.
She shaved her legs in his bathroom while he was brushing his teeth and he liked the feeling of intimacy and normality. She went through his CD collection ruining the alphabetical order and he didn't mind. She rubbed his back and nuzzled his neck with her lips and he ached to feel so good everyday.
It was nice to feel warm skin against your own, have someone to touch you, be touched. He liked to be touched. He liked having her fingers run down his spine, over his back to his neck, pulling his hair, almost painfully, making him moan under his breath.
She once fell asleep at his place and neither of them woke up before dawn. He made her French toast and they watched morning television wrapped up in blankets. They took separate showers before going to work in separate cars. House made a snappy remark about her wearing yesterday's clothes but it didn't bother her. He thought she actually enjoyed House noticing. It made House see she wouldn't be there for him forever. She was still in love with him, of course.
Of course things never go perfect.
He knows he is getting too serious about them. He kisses her neck when they're in the lab alone. She pushes him away gently, but nevertheless, she pushes him away. He knows she knows what he thinks when he looks at her and he knows that it makes her uncomfortable.
I really really like you. He doesn't dare to think love.
They're in bed together one night when he stops moving inside of her and asks if she's thinking about House while he's fucking her. His words come out harsher than he wanted them to, but an unsettling feeling of sadness and anger has fallen down to the pit of his stomach and the bitter words slip out.
She moans and raises her hips, trying to get him to move again. She doesn't answer him.
"I love the way you feel inside of me," she whispers in his ear making chills run down his spine and he gives up, continuing his movements.
Sex is good and easy.
"This is getting too serious. You're getting too serious," she tells him later when they are lying in bed together, half-naked and watching television.
He already knew that.
"Remember what this arrangement of ours was about, Chase. Friends with benefits. It doesn't work out if we're not following the rules."
He doesn't say anything.
Her face softens and she feeds him the last slice of the orange she was eating and runs her hand through his hair quickly.
"We've never followed the rules," he says even though he knows it's the stupidest thing to say.
She doesn't spent nights at his apartment anymore. She's annoyed with him. She still likes the sex, though - it's angrier now. It's raw and leaves them both bruised and it's why she keeps coming back. They are letting it continue, both out of selfish reasons.
"I'm sorry for falling in love with you," he shouts when they end up fighting after an effort to talk about them, about why they ended up like this.
"I know I'm hurting you and I'm sorry," she tells him, frustrated.
They are both getting too much out their thing to have the guts to quit it.
"I don't know what to do," she finally says and he agrees with her and they settle in silence. She's sitting on the kitchen counter, like she always does and he's standing in the doorway.
She walks up to him.
They kiss, softly and shortly; it doesn't lead to anything and she leaves.
After that everything ends. She stops coming by and eventually he arranges his CDs back to alphabetical order and washes his sheets.