The House Fan Fiction Archive

 

Endorphins


by Marie del a Meer


A/N: Love feedback, flames are fine.

House sat on his couch in his pyjamas, with a shawl around his shoulders. Cameron kneeled on the floor tending to the cuts on his forearm.

"House, these cuts are straight, in a row." Cameron struggled to control her concern. She didn't realise he had gotten so desperate. "You did this on purpose," Cameron tried not to lecture, but that was how it sounded.

"Cutting releases endorphins, endorphins relieve pain." House spoke, more out of breath than normal. He gave nothing away, like it was the logical thing to do. "You gonna give me some pills," he asked pointedly.

"No," came Cameron's sturdy reply.

House was in no mood for her wide-eyed sympathy. "Then you can leave," he snapped.

Cameron had no intention of leaving. She decided to distract him with the case. "No constitutional symptoms means..." She didn't finish.

House cut her off, "Soon as the kid gets cured, Cuddy has no reason to fold."

Cameron stared up at House in disbelief. "You really think she's going to fold."

"House, take the deal," Cameron urged, "You can survive without vicodin, after you were shot you stayed clean for months..." she believed her words.

"Yeah, wonder if that had something to do with the absence of pain..." was House's sarcastic reply. "Leave that off," House gestured to the bandage, "I want to be able to pour alcohol onto it to distract myself."

"Then you can rip off the bandage," Cameron showed her annoyance passive aggressively. She wrapped the bandage tight and around a few more times than was really necessary, if he wanted to self harm, she wasn't going to make it easy for him.

"You know what else releases endorphins," House said mischievously.

Sex, was Cameron's first thought, but she didn't want to encourage him. "Chocolate?" She suggested innocently.

"Sex," House replied sheepishly cocking an eyebrow and pursing his lips.

Cameron had her own comeback ready, "Don't you have hookers on speed dial for that?"

House realised he wasn't joking anymore, though he continued to be coy, "I don't have any money." House cocked an eyebrow, "Cameron," he said sheepishly.

He took hold of Cameron's hand, pulling it from his wounded arm. Bringing her up to his eye level.

Cameron was a little stunned by his actions. "Yes?" She responded cautiously.

"You haven't given me a Christmas present," He smiled wickedly.

Cameron smiled, House always made inappropriate jokes, she wasn't sure exactly what she should do here.

Cameron tried to keep her tone even, "I did get you something, I just don't have it on me."

Which was in fact true. Cameron felt uncomfortable that their faces were so close.

House pulled her closer, leaning over slowly to peck her on the cheek. "Can you get a refund?"

Cameron's eyes got larger. She was too stunned to speak. House did not just do that. When did this stop being a joke? "Um, House... I don't..."

Cameron's hesitation was apparent. House could see the cogs turning in her head.

"Ssshh," He whispered into her ear, as he began to kiss her neck.

Cameron was more assertive this time "House!" This was not a good idea.

House pulled back from Cameron's neck, and faced her, they were only inches apart. "Just another self-sacrificing gesture on your part," House tried to be nonchalant but he came off sounding pointed.

Cameron wanted to say, `House, I love you.' And that she didn't want to start something with him, if he didn't really want her, if he just wanted a fix.

House caressed Cameron's cheek with his hand. She sat perfectly still, looking up at him with those Bambi eyes. They both noticed his hand was shaking, it was cold and wet with sweat. House pulled his hand away suddenly, "Forget it." He sat back, pulling the blanket back over his shoulders. Protecting himself.

He seemed so ashamed, not of his advances but his withdrawal symptoms, Cameron observed. House's face looked drained, and his eyes seemed... broken. Cameron's heart ached for him at that moment. He had been reaching out, she shouldn't let him push her away.

House saw the pity in Cameron's eyes. He knew he had her.

Cameron reached out taking House's trembling hand and placing it back on her cheek. She leaned her face into the caress.

House couldn't have cared less about the ramifications of all of this right now. He had been avoiding thinking about court, prison and rehab, but if he was about to be incarcerated against his will...

House pulled Cameron closer to him. She responded by looping her arms around his neck. It was a tight embrace for what seemed like a long time. House could hear Cameron breathing. She was stuck, unsure of what to do, too afraid to move. He buried his face in her neck and began to kiss her soft skin again. His hands found their way into her hair, before holding her head just behind her ears, he took his mouth from her neck and faced her just long enough to warn her of his intention. His lips met hers. She opened her mouth giving him access. He found her tongue.

House would never admit to liking kissing more than sex. He doubted that it was true. But kissing was earned, whereas sex was easily bought. Kissing a prostitute, while not always an option, felt the most fake of the whole act. Your eyes were closed because you were afraid of opening them to the epiphany that the whole thing couldn't be more contrived.

House opened his eyes slightly, just enough to see Cameron's closed eyes. Her beautiful long eyelashes up so close.

Cameron knew she probably shouldn't be doing this. House was going through withdrawal after all. She was sure he wouldn't hate her for this later, he might even be grateful, but she wasn't sure she wouldn't hate herself.

This was safe. House knew he wasn't committing to anything. He could always tell her he was sorry, that it was just the withdrawal. Cameron would forgive him, it was her nature. He hated that he was equating that in his head. The Manipulative Bastard... Foreman was right.

House began to recline on the couch, pulling Cameron on top of him. Her legs straddled his body. He pulled her closer so that their stomachs touched covered by their clothes. House's hands moved down Cameron's black sweater to her waist and slipped under so that he could feel her warm skin.

He wanted to bathe in her warmth. To feel covered, and insignificant by comparison. He pulled Cameron's sweater up over her head. She had a black bra on underneath. It wasn't lacey or anything, sensible... so her... such a turn on...

House began to pull his own sweater over his head. He felt Cameron's hands take hold of the material. Helping him. She dropped the pullover on the floor next to hers.

His other hand moved to the material of her bra, rubbing her through the fabric.

He caught her eye, she seemed uncomfortable, sexualised. How could someone so beautiful not like being looked at? Maybe it was the `ant under a microscope' thing, she knew that he would notice and remember everything, to be so intimate was incredibly intimidating. Maybe she just didn't want to be his whore. House lifted his gaze back to her eyes. He couldn't let her slow things down, or she would come to her senses and leave.

"Cameron," was all he was able to gasp before pulling her body down to his so that he could claim her mouth again.

He felt her hands run over his chest, exploring his body. She closed her fingers around his chest hair, her mouth began to follow the path of her hands.

House laid back gently, closing his eyes to take in all the other sensations. Cameron's touch was gentle and sensual, kind of how he had imagined it would be, but so much better.

House felt Cameron's hands reach the waist band of his pyjama pants. He was not wearing anything under them. There was a rule about not getting too naked before the other person, unless it was a strip tease. Cameron had a bra, pants and presumably panties still on, while he was barely (no pun intended) hanging on to his last scrap of clothing. House covered Cameron's hands with his own, to stop her meandering. He then gripped her waist, pulling her back up closer to his face. Her eyes were patient but expectant. He could now reach the button and zipper on her grey pants. She kneeled up, whilst still straddling him to allow him better access. When he had her pants open she got off the couch and stepped out of them. House sat up on one elbow so he could take in the look of her legs, and white panties. Again, sensible underwear, not at all unsexy on her. Cameron could wear a paper bag. Actually a paper bag would be great, easy access, you could just tear it off and there was naked Cameron... Oh boy, now he was in trouble.

House stood up to face Cameron. He embraced her again. His hands rounded her shoulders and glided over the skin of her back. Her hair fell in long waves. She was kissing the nape of his neck. Her tongue was driving him wild.

Cameron suddenly regained some of her sanity, pulling back from him she spoke, "Um, House..."

"Yeah?"

Cameron felt uncomfortable, "Protection?"

House had been too distracted to think about condoms. He was shocked by his own oversight, "Oh..." He covered his surprise with a joke, "I think we should go with prayer."

Cameron gave him a wry smile, "Seriously."

House exhaled in mock annoyance, "Give me a second," He hobbled to the edge of the couch where his cane had been silently observing them. He disappeared down the hall to the bedroom, at a gear above his norm.

Cameron followed noiselessly, ten feet behind. She was curious about his bedroom.

House went over to his bedside table. Cameron took in all she could of the room. It was a mess, and smelled stale. Cameron noted the lack of personal items such as photos. The bed was unmade, which would have horrified her had it been anyone else. She caught herself hoping it would smell like him, that slightly salty scent.

A framed print on the wall facing the bed caught Cameron's attention. It was a photo of a landscape, what appeared to be a country setting, with a farm house, surrounded by trees at the height of Fall. The leaves were beautiful shades of orange, yellow and brown. There was an abandoned tractor by a paddock and a lone horse stood against the fence. It was serene, peaceful, warm. She would have gone on analysing but she felt House's arms snake around her from behind, his lips found her neck once more. He felt the clasp of her bra, and unhooked it easily. He slid the bra off her, revealing her breasts.

She turned to face him. A smile crossed her face. His face mimicked her own.

Cameron tugged his pyjama pants letting them fall around his ankles. House stepped out of them. Though he was now completely naked, what caught Cameron's attention was his atrophied quadreceps. His right thigh was twice as thin as the left, and the scar was pocked. House noticed Cameron staring at his leg and felt exposed. His hand touched her chin bringing her gaze back up to his eyes.

Cameron felt ashamed, she knew she shouldn't stare at his leg, as it was alienating for him. The guilt showed on her face. House caught her in his pale blue stare. He kissed her mouth again. It was okay. It was kind of sweet that she wanted to know, the same with her analysing his room. She wanted to know him.

He danced her backward until her legs felt the bed behind them. House laid Cameron down gently. That was the first time it occurred to him that he was being a lot more tender than he usually was. Did she seem fragile? Not really, but now that he was lying on top of her, it struck him how much larger he was than her. Cameron was skinny, he could see her rib bones at the front of her chest and feel the bones of her spine down her back. His body covered her completely, he was so much stronger.

He looked into her eyes, she smiled. She trusted him so implicitly, when there was no reason that she should. He lied, cheated and berated her continuously. Though it annoyed him sometimes, it was one of the qualities he liked the most in her, that she continued to trust and look for good in people. The world hadn't broken her, she hadn't become jaded like he had. He suspected their experiences of people were quite different, but it didn't really matter, it was an intrinsic quality more than anything else.

It was House's turn to explore. His hands found their way to Cameron's breasts. He rubbed her nipples to attention, before proceeding to take one into his mouth.

Cameron was still getting her head around what was happening. It had all gone so fast.

Cameron felt House sliding her underwear off. She raised her body slightly off the mattress to help him. His hands run up and down the length of her thighs, gently spreading them. Cameron felt around blindly on the bedside table for the condom. House was exploring her body much more vividly now with his fingers. Cameron's breathing became laboured under his touch.

She found the condom and opened the package.

She closed her fingers around House's erection, stroking him in long rhythmic motions. Her grip was firm but controlled. House was throbbing, and physically aching for her. He needed this...right now.

Cameron rolled the latex sheath onto his manhood, she felt House's embrace around her become tighter, as her pulled his body closer to hers. She relaxed as he entered her, sliding his erection into her moist warm centre. Cameron exhaled sharply at this sensation.

House was turned on by her response to him. He eased himself into her farther. He felt her body caress his shaft in waves of contractions. Withdrew from her partially before thrusting again. Her fingers were in his hair, they dug into his scalp. House liked the pain from her clenched nails digging into him. It was so erotic. He felt his muscles tensing, in response to Cameron's body tightening and relaxing around him.

Ever since his leg, it had been hard for him to be on top, though it had always been his preference. A certain amount of strength was required through the thigh that he just didn't have anymore. His leg would start to ache soon. His motions tended to be lopsided, due to the uneven distribution of weight on his left leg. You just told the hooker what you wanted and she did it. He couldn't keep this up, but he didn't feel he could verbalise his trouble to Cameron either.

Cameron noticed House straining to thrust with his bad leg. She took hold of his hips, halting his motions.

"Roll over," she whispered into his ear.

He exhaled, relieved. He obeyed and she felt him relax. She straddled him, taking care to avoid touching his leg. She began to raise and lower her hips onto him. House's hands gripped her waist.

Cameron felt the pressure building inside her, the heat rising, she couldn't breath. Her muscles contracted. Her back arched in response to the pleasure House was providing.

He felt his body approaching climax. He moaned, letting Cameron know how crazy she was driving him. She took his cue, deepening and quickening her movements.

"Cameron," was all that managed to escape his lips. He tensed, feeling his body release in steady waves, Cameron continued to thrust until he was completely spent.

He slipped out of her body. Cameron lay on his chest. Watching House struggle to catch his breath. She pulled the covers up, caccooning their bodies in warmth. Her cheeks were flushed.

They lay spooned against one another for what seemed like a long time. Neither person spoke. It was surreal. House's arms were wrapped around her tight. Cameron could feel his breath on her neck. It felt comfortable and natural.

Just then it occurred to House that he hadn't thought about pain or vicodin for a good hour or so. He hadn't been conscious of the cuts on his arm either. Endorphins... incredible. He was exhausted, but he was no longer shaking, he was still sweating, but that was understandable. Maybe he really could get through this without drugs. If he could just convince Cameron not to go to work for the next month and become his sex slave he could probably kick vicodin for good. Or would that just be swapping one addiction for another? That wasn't fair, he had had just sex, many times. This had not been just sex.

He lazily ran his fingers through Cameron's long silky hair. He placed kisses behind her ear. He was being affectionate, this wasn't normally him. He could hear Wilson in his head, Dr. Cameron is rubbing off on you. I guess you can't be around that much niceness without getting some on you.

Cameron lay still. She had come over here about a case, the 15 year old dwarf, she thought it was an autoimmune disease, she wanted to run ideas past House... She couldn't even remember the patient's name. Was it Annabelle? The team were probably wondering what the hell happened to her. She was so warm, House was holding her, she couldn't leave, and she didn't want to pump him for information either, or she really would feel like a prostitute. She could ask him anything too personal either, if she pushed him, he would probably kick her out.

Maybe House was her addiction. Her vicodin. Cameron didn't get the chance to pick that apart some more, as her cell phone rang in the other room. She immediately got out of bed making a run for it

By the time she found her bag, she had a missed call. It was from Chase. She immediately called him back and began to pick her clothes up off the ground. She slipped her black sweater on and pulled on her pants. She didn't bother with the bra or underpants they were somewhere in House's bedroom.

"Cameron," Chase knew it was her.

"Hi, what's going on?" She tried to sound as casual as possible.

"You left almost two hours ago without a word," Chase stated, "I was worried about you." He seemed genuinely concerned, which was sweet.

"I went to see House."

At the mention of his boss' name, Chase couldn't help but wonder, "Is he okay?"

"Um, yeah," Cameron decided not to let anyone know about the cutting or the...endorphins. "He's okay, not great, but he'll make it."

"How's the girl," Cameron didn't want to say Annabelle, because that really might not be the right name.

"Getting worse," Chase sounded glib. "Does House have any ideas?"

"Um, I'll call you back," Cameron rushed him off the phone. She didn't want him to ask how she had been gone two hours and hadn't really spoken to House about the case.

Cameron walked back into the bedroom, she was now fully clothed, with shoes and socks on. House was sitting up in bed watching her.

Cameron knew she needed to get back to the case, "The dwarf's getting worse."

House remembered back to their earlier conversation, "Where are you at?"

Cameron sighed, "Bouncing between autoimmune and cancer."

Cameron picked her bra off the floor beside the bed. She couldn't remember what had happened to her underwear.

House ran it through in his mind, What could fit, what are we missing, what aren't we seeing? Being a dwarf isn't a symptom of anything, but being short is. Did we confirm that she really is a dwarf? Suddenly he knew, "What if it's both."

"Autoimmune and cancer," Cameron repeated, trying to make sense of his cryptic logic.

"A tumour in her pituitary," House explained.

Cameron nodded in agreement, "Causing growth hormone deficiency." The implication of such a realisation struck her, "Which would mean, she isn't really a dwarf."

"We assumed because of her mother that she was as well," House reasoned. He knew how they could settle this, "X-ray her foot."

Cameron followed his logic, "If the growth plates are normal, then it's a tumour."

He nodded in agreement, "Yeah."

House held up Cameron's panties, "I'm keeping these as a souvenir."

Cameron rolled her eyes, but couldn't contain a wry smile.

"House," she waited until she had his attention, "A month in rehab isn't that long, we need you back."

House had been hoping to avoid any conversation about Tritter's deal. "You going to keep me high on endorphins while I'm in there?" He raised his eyebrows devilishly.

"If it gets you off the vicodin," Cameron shot back, with a sly grin that matched his own.

Cameron turned and retreated down the hall. House had probably just broken the case, even with the withdrawal and his impending incarceration. He really was an incredible man.


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Legal Disclaimer: The authors published here make no claims on the ownership of Dr. Gregory House and the other fictional residents of Princeton-Plainsboro Teaching Hospital. Like the television show House (and quite possibly Dr. Wilson's pocket protector), they are the property of NBC/Universal, David Shore and undoubtedly other individuals of whom I am only peripherally aware. The fan fiction authors published here receive no monetary benefit from their work and intend no copyright infringement nor slight to the actual owners. We love the characters and we love the show, otherwise we wouldn't be here.