House - Like Air - fishtank36
A/N: Author's notes at the end :P Title stolen from Izzy (House/Cam with a hint of Cuddy/Wilson, but only if you squint.)
i know you feel the same virus
but you don't shake
are you still in love with me?
i can't be always coughing blood
i'm brave enough for you my only love
-Remember to Breathe (live) - Dashboard Confessional (feat. Max)
It's little moments. Little glimpses. Here and there, adding up just enough to make her wonder if she's crazy. Odd sparks skating through her as they brush fingers or his intense gaze holding hers long enough to make her feel like she might combust. How he intentionally crowds her just to reassert his control over her, how she lets him and watches as they both get caught waiting for something.
He waits for her. His mind has slowly been self-destructing with thoughts of her when he really should be thinking about other things, like his leg or their patient or why Wilson is chatting up Debbie in accounting - and why Cuddy seems to be so preoccupied with it. Waits as she leans forward, inexplicably drawn, and closes his eyes as her mouth hovers close to his. Her lips whisper over his, thoughts he shouldn't have bloom without his permission - notions of love and happily-ever-after - things that have no business rattling around inside his head.
He shouldn't be so consumed with something he considers to be a stupid biological response, something to do with chemicals and hormones and the illusion of the ideal. But he finds himself wanting it - wanting her - in ways he didn't think he was capable of. So ready to give his heart to someone who will undoubtedly break it, someone who is so wrong for him and he's so wrong for - someone who has no business stealing his heart away without ever really attempting to.
She pulls back, unable to take advantage of him like this. She doesn't want to be just another pretty girl, because it's no secret he finds her incredibly attractive but when she looks at him she thinks of love and could-be and doesn't want to ask more of him than he can give. It's unfair and she doesn't want to take what she has no right taking - she knows just once won't be enough for her.
"I'm sorry," she mutters, gone before he can pull his eyes open.
He sits there thinking he should feel like he's dodged a bullet, but he's left wondering what it's like to kiss her, to wake up in the morning and have her there with him. He leans back, sighing heavily as he presses his head against the wall, she's turning him into 'that guy' and it's scaring the hell out of him but he can't dislodge her from his mind.
He busts in, cane clattering to the ground with the force of his movement, the door swinging wildly to snap against the wall. She's up and out of her chair, heart beating chaotically as he's scared her to death. He turns to grab the door and shuts it quietly, throwing the lock as he gathers his nerve.
He limps slowly toward her, there's a serious about him that's throwing her off and making her feel like he's stalking her. He sweeps around her chair causing her to turn her back to the wall as she faces him.
It's an odd thing to think but he looks raw, like the House she knows stripped of all his walls - the sarcasm and bitterness - she knows something is different as he leans down to her.
His lips brush hers, stealing a kiss before she has a chance to pull back. He's not rough like she expected, figured that when he'd finally cave in he'd push her up against a wall or toss her on his desk, or on her counter at this point. But he doesn't, he's careful and patient, every move calculated as if to let her know his exact intentions. He's not hiding behind circumstance or attraction and the gravity of it is making it hard for her to breathe.
He reaches up, sliding her glasses off gently, the delicate brush of her frames causing her to shut her eyes against the intensity of it. He leans down again, mouth nudging hers as he presses her slowly into the wall. She lets him kiss her, enjoying the feel of his hot mouth probing hers, teasing her and enticing her to duel with him. She responds easily but leaves him in control, practically losing her mind as he detours down her neck. Carelessly he tosses her glasses to the side, freeing one hand to slip under her jaw and into her hair. The other gravitates down, ghosting under her shirt to sear the skin of her stomach.
She grabs his shirt, unable to help it any longer, and drags his mouth back up to hers. She begins to push him in the direction of her bedroom - if he's so ready to give his heart away she would make sure that she was the one who'd claim it.
A/N: I got attached to the idea of House taking off Cameron's glasses - I don't know why, but... that's how this came about.