Categories > TV > House
Not being able to suppress a yawn, Dr. Gregory House walked out of the elevator on the ground floor and made his way towards the revolving door of the entrance hall. Stopping halfway, he threw his cane on the reception desk, earning a murderous glance from the young girl sitting behind the desk, and, leaning against the desk, he started fastening the zipper of his leather jacket. Unusually warm for the season, the sun was shining brightly outside and his mood, even having not slept 36 hours in a row, was surprisingly good.
Done with his jacket, he fished out a package of Wrigley's from his pocket and unwrapped one, sliding the package back to its place. He was just about to slide it into his mouth, when Cuddy suddenly walked up to him, draped her right arm around his neck and kissed him on the cheek.
"Merry Christmas, House," she whispered into his ear, still holding him tight. "Nice catch with that copper poisoning."
House could have said something insensitive to her, causing her to blush. He could have said something really rude to her, making her slap him across his face. He could have criticised her professional abilities, prompting her assign him on clinical duty on New Years Eve as a revenge. But, he didn't.
Instead, slowly, savouring every moment, he took his left hand out of his jeans pocket and grabbed the woman's firm arse. Gently squeezing it, he silently enjoyed the sensation of feeling her skin under the thin fabric of her pants and suddenly realized that even if she was wearing underwear, it must have been of a minuscule size.
At first, he felt the woman's body stiffen at his touch and sensed her hot breath escaping her lips in a surprised, small moan, burning his neck. Then, he felt her relax against him and he could've sworn Cuddy was snuggling her bum closer into his firm, yet gentle grip.
"Thirteen's boobs are bigger and firmer," he suddenly whispered, squeezing her bum again, "but her ass comes nowhere close to this perfection. How do you get into these pants?"
"Hmmm... That's tricky," Cuddy flashed a genuine smile at him, while reaching for his right hand and landing it on her other bum. "At first, you bring me flowers," she whispered hoarsely, enjoying the sensation of his touch.
House inclined his head in recognition of the nice word twist. "Come on, Cuddy, you know I suck at romance," he added, desperately trying to keep serious, but his eyes were twinkling.
"I know that, House," Cuddy admitted with a tone as if she was saying "you're hopeless". But she said nothing more, rather closed the remaining gap between them and crushed her lips on his, completely giving herself over to the moment. She licked his bottom lip, making him gasp and quickly dove her tongue in his mouth and deepened the kiss, draping both her arms now around his neck, as she was feeling his hands gently caressing her shapely derriere.
They slowly broke apart, flushed, panting, completely oblivious to the outside world. Then, without saying a word, Cuddy gave a small peck on her unshaven as usual cheek. “Merry Christmas, House,” she repeated, and, swaying her hips, left the entrance hall. Before passing through the revolving door, she looked back, one last time, with a generous smile on her lips.
"Wow, House, that was a hell of a kiss," nodded Thirteen, broadly grinning at her boss.
"Are you jealous of me, Thirteen?" House inquired, with an evil twinkle in his blue eyes. "I can say a good word for you, maybe I can even give you a recommendation letter... Who knows, maybe you can turn Cuddy into a lesbian?"
"I wouldn't dare, House," giggled the girl, slapping him on his shoulder. "You know affairs with your superiors are not encouraged."
House measured the girl from top to toe with his glance, maybe a fracture of a second too long lingering at her cleavage. "So this is the reason why you're not dating me," he stressed the last word, "and you're dating Foreman instead. Or is it just because you know I'm not dating lesbians?"
"For the record, House, I'm not a lesbian. I'm a bisexual. Otherwise, you know, I wouldn't be dating Foreman." Thirteen stepped very close to him, until her breasts brushed against him. Slowly leaning in, she pressed her lips against his forehead. "Merry Christmas," she said simply.
"By the way," she continued in her normal voice, making a small step backwards, "thanks for the compliment about my boobs. I've never realized that you cared."
"I don't care about lesbians!" House suddenly yelled, stressing every word and pointing at her, and the few people in the entrance hall raised their heads in search of the source of the voice. Recognizing him, they shook their heads and went back to their own businesses.
House stared at the girl in disbelief. Instead of flushing red, hitting him hard or yelling at him, she flashed him a genuine smile. "Oh yes, you do, Gregory House," she nodded. "Deep inside your heart, you do. And that's why everybody keeps caring about you, no matter how insensitive a bastard you are."
House was silently amusing himself as he was watching the girl, with a lopsided grin on his face. "Listen, why don't you just Apparate home to your Foreman?" he offered, making an impatient gesture with his hand.
"Appa-what?" Thirteen shook her head.
"What, he never took you to see Half-Blood Prince?" House shook his head, clearly in frustration. "Go, get out of my way. I don't want to see your bloody faces until January 2nd" he shooed the girl away.
Comprehension dawned on Thirteen's beautiful face as she understood their boss had just given them an extra week off. She raised her hand and caressed his cheek. "I was right about you, House, no matter what you want me to think about you. You do care."
The next day, around noon, House found an envelop in his letterbox, which contained a Christmas card and a smaller envelop. The card read:
"Dear House,
Go Apparate to Cuddy before she makes other plans for tonight. I've got you two tickets for Half-Blood Prince in the IMAX theater at 7 pm.
Merry Xmas, Thirteen
P.S. Don't let her slip away from you! Foreman"
Done with his jacket, he fished out a package of Wrigley's from his pocket and unwrapped one, sliding the package back to its place. He was just about to slide it into his mouth, when Cuddy suddenly walked up to him, draped her right arm around his neck and kissed him on the cheek.
"Merry Christmas, House," she whispered into his ear, still holding him tight. "Nice catch with that copper poisoning."
House could have said something insensitive to her, causing her to blush. He could have said something really rude to her, making her slap him across his face. He could have criticised her professional abilities, prompting her assign him on clinical duty on New Years Eve as a revenge. But, he didn't.
Instead, slowly, savouring every moment, he took his left hand out of his jeans pocket and grabbed the woman's firm arse. Gently squeezing it, he silently enjoyed the sensation of feeling her skin under the thin fabric of her pants and suddenly realized that even if she was wearing underwear, it must have been of a minuscule size.
At first, he felt the woman's body stiffen at his touch and sensed her hot breath escaping her lips in a surprised, small moan, burning his neck. Then, he felt her relax against him and he could've sworn Cuddy was snuggling her bum closer into his firm, yet gentle grip.
"Thirteen's boobs are bigger and firmer," he suddenly whispered, squeezing her bum again, "but her ass comes nowhere close to this perfection. How do you get into these pants?"
"Hmmm... That's tricky," Cuddy flashed a genuine smile at him, while reaching for his right hand and landing it on her other bum. "At first, you bring me flowers," she whispered hoarsely, enjoying the sensation of his touch.
House inclined his head in recognition of the nice word twist. "Come on, Cuddy, you know I suck at romance," he added, desperately trying to keep serious, but his eyes were twinkling.
"I know that, House," Cuddy admitted with a tone as if she was saying "you're hopeless". But she said nothing more, rather closed the remaining gap between them and crushed her lips on his, completely giving herself over to the moment. She licked his bottom lip, making him gasp and quickly dove her tongue in his mouth and deepened the kiss, draping both her arms now around his neck, as she was feeling his hands gently caressing her shapely derriere.
They slowly broke apart, flushed, panting, completely oblivious to the outside world. Then, without saying a word, Cuddy gave a small peck on her unshaven as usual cheek. “Merry Christmas, House,” she repeated, and, swaying her hips, left the entrance hall. Before passing through the revolving door, she looked back, one last time, with a generous smile on her lips.
"Wow, House, that was a hell of a kiss," nodded Thirteen, broadly grinning at her boss.
"Are you jealous of me, Thirteen?" House inquired, with an evil twinkle in his blue eyes. "I can say a good word for you, maybe I can even give you a recommendation letter... Who knows, maybe you can turn Cuddy into a lesbian?"
"I wouldn't dare, House," giggled the girl, slapping him on his shoulder. "You know affairs with your superiors are not encouraged."
House measured the girl from top to toe with his glance, maybe a fracture of a second too long lingering at her cleavage. "So this is the reason why you're not dating me," he stressed the last word, "and you're dating Foreman instead. Or is it just because you know I'm not dating lesbians?"
"For the record, House, I'm not a lesbian. I'm a bisexual. Otherwise, you know, I wouldn't be dating Foreman." Thirteen stepped very close to him, until her breasts brushed against him. Slowly leaning in, she pressed her lips against his forehead. "Merry Christmas," she said simply.
"By the way," she continued in her normal voice, making a small step backwards, "thanks for the compliment about my boobs. I've never realized that you cared."
"I don't care about lesbians!" House suddenly yelled, stressing every word and pointing at her, and the few people in the entrance hall raised their heads in search of the source of the voice. Recognizing him, they shook their heads and went back to their own businesses.
House stared at the girl in disbelief. Instead of flushing red, hitting him hard or yelling at him, she flashed him a genuine smile. "Oh yes, you do, Gregory House," she nodded. "Deep inside your heart, you do. And that's why everybody keeps caring about you, no matter how insensitive a bastard you are."
House was silently amusing himself as he was watching the girl, with a lopsided grin on his face. "Listen, why don't you just Apparate home to your Foreman?" he offered, making an impatient gesture with his hand.
"Appa-what?" Thirteen shook her head.
"What, he never took you to see Half-Blood Prince?" House shook his head, clearly in frustration. "Go, get out of my way. I don't want to see your bloody faces until January 2nd" he shooed the girl away.
Comprehension dawned on Thirteen's beautiful face as she understood their boss had just given them an extra week off. She raised her hand and caressed his cheek. "I was right about you, House, no matter what you want me to think about you. You do care."
The next day, around noon, House found an envelop in his letterbox, which contained a Christmas card and a smaller envelop. The card read:
"Dear House,
Go Apparate to Cuddy before she makes other plans for tonight. I've got you two tickets for Half-Blood Prince in the IMAX theater at 7 pm.
Merry Xmas, Thirteen
P.S. Don't let her slip away from you! Foreman"
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