eric_foreman: Eric Foreman from House - eyebrow raised (eyebrow)
eric_foreman ([personal profile] eric_foreman) wrote in [community profile] alwaysright2009-08-20 07:55 pm

October 29, 2007 - Evening

Nothing around here works the way it's supposed to work.

Of everything their John Doe--Robert Elliot--had said when Foreman had been with him, that was what rang the most true. It was stupid to think that talking with a patient with Giovianni's syndrome could change anything, least of all how he saw himself. The guy wasn't psychic; he was only picking up on the cues that Foreman had dropped inadvertently. Changing because of that was worse than stupid. It would imply that not only was Foreman ignorant about his own feelings and what he wanted, but also that he was spineless enough to act differently because of a stranger's neurological disorder. Foreman made his own choices. He wasn't looking for any advice, whether it was his own reflected back at him or not.

After the day's humiliation, Foreman had been more sure than ever that Princeton wasn't the right place for him. Less than an hour later, Chase had come up to him, clapped a hand on his shoulder, and laughingly asked if it was true.

Foreman fixed him with a furious stare. "I didn't know she worked here. And I didn't have to beg her every day for weeks."

Chase, far from being offended, just grinned wider. "Once a week. Anyway, I heard Amber was the one calling the shots."

Foreman didn't bother pointing out that Cameron walked all over Chase on a daily basis. "I have to run a biopsy," he said, turning to walk away, his shoulders hunched as he pushed his fists into his pockets.

"She seems like just your type!" Chase called after him. "Did you ever consider lightening up and enjoying yourselves?"

Fat chance of that. Not with the whole hospital in on the joke and watching. For what it was worth, Foreman didn't have to work with Amber directly for the rest of the day. Both of them were too busy running cultures and keeping the patient alive. Foreman let House do whatever crazy thing entered his mind. He didn't have any illusions about being able to stop him today, and Foreman was more interested in keeping his head down. In thinking about how to get away.

But when House sidled up to him with a job offer from Mount Zion, Foreman's first thought wasn't to jump at the opportunity. It wasn't even to suspect that House was having him on, dangling the possibility with every intention of yanking it away the second Foreman seemed likely to believe it was real.

His first thought had been, I can't go yet.

That had surprised him more than anything, made him stop and frown once he'd finally shaken House off. After having his affairs aired in the middle of a differential like a choice piece of gossip he couldn't believe that there was any reason not to take up the job hunt again. Farther afield, where the hospitals wouldn't have heard of him, or had their diagnostics cases redirected to Princeton-Plainsboro, so that they'd only know House by his reputation, not by personal experience. Maybe as far away as California; Foreman still had contacts there.

But he didn't want to go.

Partly it was the medicine. He'd felt in the thick of it again today. Working against the clock to solve a case. Challenged, following the clues from one to the next. He'd always loved that, even if he hadn't been happy working for House. But partly, Foreman knew, it was Amber, and he didn't know what do about that. He'd been shot down enough, rejected enough, that he should want to stay away from her just to avoid any more scenes like this morning's. Even so, he couldn't stop thinking about her. Wondering what she really felt and whether the attitude she'd shown in front of House was all there was.

Well, it didn't matter. He wasn't going to ask. Once the case was solved, all Foreman wanted to do was gather his things and escape. It was late, and dark, and he headed for the doors slowly, already knowing he wouldn't have the same luck he'd had on Thursday. Nothing worked out the way it should.
amber_v: Amber can has a naughy idea (smirk)

[personal profile] amber_v 2009-08-29 01:52 am (UTC)(link)
Amber shivered at the sudden intimacy of Eric's touch, hot and firm and absolutely right in all ways. But she quickly reigned in her reaction. This was a game, and rule number two was to be as discreet as possible. (The first rule was: have outrageous fun.) Even as Eric's hand climbed, closer and closer to where she really wanted to feel him, Amber maintained a calm expression. Only her rapid heartbeat and growing wetness would've given her away-- and only Eric could pick up on those indications.

"It's hard to go wrong, here." Amber crossed her legs, extending an invitation by granting more access. She could hardly wait. "But if you ask me, the best dishes are the strong, spicy ones." She punctuated the adjectives with more force than necessary; nothing in this world was cheesier than food double entendres, but if they were going to make out in public, she might as well go all out.

At worst, Amber would end up horny and desperately needing a proper attention; at best, she could come. Either outcome was fine with her. Eric, on the other hand, had more to lose. Not only was he more self-conscious of his image, but his horniness or orgasm would have far more visible signs than her own. If this came down to a game of chicken, she was confident of her odds. Her grin stronger than ever, she extended her leg further and higher, rubbing his knees and the inner curve of his thigh. How different and exciting to sense him through her toes; it was like looking underwater, familiar sights distorted into new forms.

In her peripheral vision she saw the waiter approaching and almost laughed, wondering how Eric would react.
amber_v: Amber in spring! (glow)

[personal profile] amber_v 2009-08-29 02:35 pm (UTC)(link)
Ah, so Eric rose to the challenge of terrible culinary-based dirty talk. She snickered. "Lingering?" She deliberately stopped her foot's progress forward, circling her big toe over the same spot, digging in. "I'm sure we can find something along those lines." Amber could sit here all night, fondling him through appetizer and main course and desert-- but he might not find 'lingering' so appealing a taste after all.

Having made her point, Amber continued with her foot's rise. The real tantalizing would come in at and around his groin, and she was curious as how hard he was. And hard he had to be, judging from the curving of his back, the pinching of his face that he couldn't hide.

"I want the Thai chicken.” It was the only thing she remembered seeing during her faux-review of the menu. On the verge of laughing-- at the waiter, at the fun of sneaking around, at the anticipation of Eric having to talk with her foot eliciting his hard-on-- Amber let her attention slip. A serious mistake. With a few key maneuvers, Eric turned the tables on her, so to speak.

At least now she knew how hard he was.

Sure, with the new set-up more of her leg was over him, but the position twisted her too awkwardly, giving her less mobility for subtler motions. So she slipped her leg down, just in time to savor him playing along her thigh, light and casual and wonderfully teasing. Her heart rate exploded as his fingers brushed her wetness and she couldn't not tip her head back, eyelids fluttering.

Had anyone noticed? Did they suspect? Wasn’t that other couple looking their way?

Amber wanted to kiss him, to bite his lip, to scrape his beard against her throat. That she couldn’t, not without waving a flag declaring what they were up to, only made her want it all the more. So she went for more sly contact, fixing her gaze on Eric’s shining eyes. God, his excitement was so sexy. She loved that they were in this together, surfing the same waves of joy and frustration. Her hand snaked beneath the tablecloth, cupping his tenting crotch, feeling yet another flash of desire. “I want you inside of me,” she said as conversationally as possible, but she couldn’t keep the edge from out of her voice. “I want you to fuck me on this table, hard.”
amber_v: Hiya, lips. Why so sad? (lips)

[personal profile] amber_v 2009-08-30 01:42 am (UTC)(link)
Amber pushed her hips up, guiding his touch towards her clit; he was so close, so painfully close. The tease, he was doing this on purpose, he had to be. And she loved it. When she finally did come, here or wherever, it'd feel so good, having earned the pleasure. She wouldn’t forget this night, not for a long time.

Eric’s words made her shiver with anticipation and she squirmed, squeezing his hands between her legs. God, she loved hearing him, loved hearing that sophisticated voice speaking such vulgarities. It was so unexpected, like a newscaster suddenly narrating a sex scene with pornographic detail. "Do you?" Amber asked, tone low and cool and taut. She wanted to hear more, hear him let lose a stream of obscenities.

"Funny," she commented, gripping his erection through the fabric. He was so hard she could feel his form through the silk, and she couldn't help imagining him entering her, how he’d feel inside. She already knew, from experience, but once wasn't enough. She had to have him again. But, for now, she unzipped his pants, undid his fly and, oh, it was so much more satisfying holding his dick this way, with only his underwear between their skin. Her hand encircled him. "I was thinking the same thing, making you come right here, my hand fucking your dick, with everyone around us." Amber glanced quickly to that couple she’d noticed earlier. She was pretty sure it wasn’t just her imagination: the woman was peering at them with wide eyes. But Amber wasn’t worried; the woman was far too mousy to report them to anyone. On the contrary, it only excited her all the more, that someone might really be watching.

Leaning in closer to whisper in Eric’s ear, "Race you to it—whoever comes first, loses.”
amber_v: Amber in spring! (glow)

[personal profile] amber_v 2009-08-30 06:29 pm (UTC)(link)
Christ, she couldn't stay quiet now, not with the barrage of words and images and Eric's hand doing things to her, rubbing and pressing and bringing her so close to the edge. It suddenly didn't seem fair, that she couldn't climb into his lap and take him in, as she should be able to, humans were made for this, weren't they? But with Eric sharply bringing down the handkerchief as a shield to his shirt, Amber was reminded to keep up the least in propriety and limited herself to a few throaty gasps.

Still. The images he conjured, they hit her hard, striking precisely at some of her favorite fantasies. The two of them coupling, her back against cool wood, the soft bangs and clicks the door would make, and the knowledge that they were just inches from public gaze. She'd have take him up on the offer, gone there to the bathroom this very moment, but even if they couldn't fuck there, fact was, here they literally were under public scrutiny. Amber liked to think she'd seen a flash of jealousy in that woman's eyes, wishing to be in her shoes. Doing what she was, with Eric. But Amber wouldn’t give her shoes away, not even in exchange for the whole world.

"Fuck, Eric," Amber gasped, shuddering with his breath against her ear. “This is amazing.” The more excited she got, the faster and tighter she gripped him, trying to match their paces. She'd meant it about the game rules, and while she wouldn't mind losing in this case, she had to stand up to the principle of the matter. And it was so tempting, to make him cave in, make him relinquish some of that pride he held on to so fiercely. She knew Eric was close too, his pupils huge and his grimace in holding back whatever sounds he couldn't help making. His erection was so hot in her hands, so inviting, and she stroked furiously, her thumb up tighter along the base of his dick. "C'mon, harder, like you mean it--"
amber_v: Amber in spring! (glow)

[personal profile] amber_v 2009-08-31 04:31 pm (UTC)(link)
Well, if Eric was going to play dirty, of course he was going to win, and he was a cheater, big, huge, dirty cheater, and Amber could've burst from sheer pride. So he played to win. 'This time,' he he'd said, which meant there'd be a next one and then, oh, yes, Amber would be ready for his underhanded ways.

This round, though, she had to concede defeat, her heart dashing against her chest, her thoughts so muddled she couldn't keep track of what was happening, what hand was where and what Eric was doing but did it really matter, as long as he kept doing it, kept on pushing deeper and harder. Her wrist, he'd gripped it so tight it almost hurt, but the chafing, it only added to the senses assaulting her, his cologne's scent as he leaned in towards her, and his skin, it was slick with sweat, hers must be too, christ, what did it matter, where they were and who was watching, she just wanted--

"Eric," she breathed, peaking so high, like she was flying, here in this chair with him right next to her, and she bent her head, moaning, "Oh, god," and kissed him as she soared through clear blue skies. His mouth was so hot, so wet, and she sucked him in, channeling her gasps into him, and she could taste the wine and god, yes, could feel his pulse as fast as her own, and she never, ever wanted to come back down.

But back down Amber came, and of all the places to come back to, this one was pretty good. Opening her eyes to peer around the restaurant, she verified that no one was making a huge fuss over what had just happened at their table, and then looked back to Eric. She couldn’t tell if he was indignant, turned on, or tremendously embarrassed. Probably all three. “You’re no fun,” Amber teased, squeezing his hand between her thighs again. He was uncomfortable, she knew, and wouldn’t take well to further innuendo, but coasting on a good mood, she couldn’t resist pushing him. She twisted her wrist out of his grasp and encircled his balls, thumbing the base of his penis. It throbbed, strong and insistent. He wanted this, how could he not? “C’mon, give in,” she invited, flashing a promise-filled smile. “For me.”
amber_v: How daaaaaaaaare you (suspicious)

[personal profile] amber_v 2009-09-05 07:02 pm (UTC)(link)
Amber was all smiles and near-laughter, sated with orgasm and the prospect of teasing, and maybe even satisfying Eric in return. But her mirth drained as Eric rubbed his hands vigorously against the napkin as if he were removing oily gunk from some undesirable source, like his car's engine. Her heart started to pound again while he zipped up and packed himself away. The whole time, he wouldn't meet her eyes. I can't, not here.

That first morning after, too, Eric had turned away from her. She now knew the reason why: he'd just realized they both worked for House, and was, in an automatic reaction, giving up what-- who-- he thought he couldn't have.

There was something to be said, though, to the fact that Amber always ended up feeling filthy after having sex with him.

Neatly-- or as much as possible-- cleaned up, Eric turned tail and ran. Amber seethed, jaw hurting from how tight she clenched it. If he hadn't wanted to do this, he could've said so. A simple "no" and she'd have stopped. He shouldn't have egged her on, shouldn't have let her foot him into an erection, shouldn't have fucking made her come.

If she wanted to feel dirty and shamed after sex, she’d do so. But she was Amber fucking Volakis and she did what she liked. No one here had been hurt by what they’d done, and if anything, they’d profited. They’d have a story to tell. 'Once, in a restaurant, can you believe,' they could start in scandalized tones, thrilled that they’d experienced, even if only vicariously, something so exciting. People paid for taped porn, and she and Eric had given a live performance. For free. They hadn’t done anything wrong, and she refused to feel like they had. Except that tuck-his-business-into-his-pants-and-slink-away had made her self-conscious. How, if they enjoyed themselves so much with each other, did she always end up feeling like a cheap prostitute?

No. No, she wouldn't let him do this to her, ruin what had been great with guilt and embarrassment and fucking shame. Amber drained what remained of her wine, its bitterness only curdling her mouth, wiped her mouth, and got to her feet, her chair clattering behind her. She strode to the bathroom, where Eric was jerking off or hiding until his raging hard-on went away or who knew what.

What she'd do there, yell at him or ravish him until he blew his too-sacred-for-public-viewing load, his puritan ways notwithstanding, she didn't know, but sit alone stewing in her misery, she wouldn't. She pressed down on the bathroom doorknob. "It's me," Amber declared.
amber_v: How daaaaaaaaare you (suspicious)

[personal profile] amber_v 2009-09-05 10:26 pm (UTC)(link)
Wrenching the door open, all Amber knew was that she was tired of Eric's pride, of how he turned his back on her when it mattered most. Outrage made her hands flex, compulsively opening then closing so hard it hurt from the strain.

There he was, so small bent over the sink, his head bowed. He hadn't even reopened his jacket or pants, allowing himself no physical relief. What a coward, that even alone he'd rather (supposedly) nobly suffer than accept and give in to his body's needs.

God, why did she like him so much?

Eric flinched when he saw her reflection in the mirror. Something inside her hardened, that he was even more embarrassed because of her, but a bit of satisfaction trilled through her. He should feel guilty. She slammed the door.

Eric spoke with that voice she'd heard too many times in so short a period, with defeat and apology. But his words, they threw her off as she tried to make sense of them. If he meant this bathroom, his statement was redundant: having never been to this restaurant before, of course he'd never have gone into its toilets. If he'd said it in a figurative way, she still didn’t get his point. "What, hiding away in an unlocked bathroom after indecently exposing yourself in public?" Amber asked, purposefully using the harshest wording she could think of. It wasn't the smartest thing to do, not if she wanted him to stop with the humiliation already, but she wanted to throw in his face the worst they'd done, make him realize it hadn't even been anything all that serious.

Amber still had no idea what she meant to do. She was burning up, hotter than even when she'd come, and all of her shook with indignation. She wanted Eric to stop looking like a grievously injured dog; wanted herself to stop feeling so goddamn angry and guilty.

"Don't you dare," she hissed, stepping away from the door slowly, eyes narrowed on Eric. His alarm was crystal clear in the bright lights. She didn't care. Rather, she cared too much. Raising her hands to his face, she cupped his cheeks and whispered fiercely, "Don't you dare run away." And she kissed him. She kissed him with all her fury and frustration, fit to bruise, bearing down her body to trap him against the sink. She'd show him, this could be good. They could be wonderful, if only he'd quit sabotaging them.
amber_v: Aw, man, don't pout at me (lean)

[personal profile] amber_v 2009-09-06 04:49 am (UTC)(link)
For far too many heart flutters, Amber half-feared Eric would push her away again, panic getting the better of him and making him bolt from the bathroom, the restaurant, her. Did he have the guts to stay? So his groan, his possessive grasp over her hips, they were a balm to Amber. Relief poured through her, cooling her feelings like a fire-extinguisher aimed at a fire. She didn't understand what Eric was thinking, where his limits lay, and why what he thought of her mattered so much. Didn't want to think about it, either. With any other man, Amber would've laughed off or rolled her eyes that her momentary partner couldn't keep up with her. With Eric-- she couldn't bear him thinking less of her. Damn it, he shouldn't have gotten to her this fast, no matter how much she liked him.

But she wouldn't think of that. Not now. A moan ripped out from her, deep and so satisfying and his mouth was all along her throat and this was what she wanted, unabashed and uncontrolled. His words were contradictory, I couldn't one second and Please the next. He wanted, didn't want? Whatever conflicting thoughts were running through his mind, Amber didn't care, because his mouth, ravaging her skin, his body, hot and demanding and pulling her in closer, told her all she needed to know. His erection, hard as ever, dug into her abdomen, and his hands tightened possessively. He wanted her.

He could have her.

Still kissing him fast and insistent, her hands flew to undo his clothes all over again, unbuckling his belt, unbuttoning his pants, pulling down his underwear. A hand or a blow job would be a quick solution. He wouldn't last long, not with his dick straining like that, and by now, he must be in pain, delaying his pleasure so long. But Amber wanted more. She'd been embarrassed, and she wanted-- needed-- affirmation. "Fuck me," Amber murmured around his lips, voice raw, eyes lidded. She ripped off her own shirt, unzipped her skirt so that it fell to the floor; peeled off her nylons in seconds. Before he could think to say no, to consider the unlocked door and all the people that could burst in, Amber wrapped her arms around him, burning skin meeting burning skin.
amber_v: Hiya, lips. Why so sad? (lips)

[personal profile] amber_v 2009-09-06 04:30 pm (UTC)(link)
"That's right," Amber murmured as they backtracked towards the door. "Yeah, like that," she got around shallow breaths and kisses. As she'd imagined, its surface was cool and smooth, and she shuddered at the sudden contrast: like being between two worlds.

Those weren't the only dimensions she was stuck between. Eric's near tenderness in his kisses, soft and intimate, like she was the one that mattered, like it couldn't be anyone else-- it clashed with the anger and lust she'd been coasting on. She'd known she liked him, but she didn't do this, didn't let it get all personal, and now that she was in the middle of so many feelings, she didn't know how to react.

So she did the only thing she could: she let herself go.

"Eric," she breathed, then kissed him, deep, tongue flush against his, and became increasingly lightheaded. Eric pulled away, and she whined, but then gasped a second later, arching her breasts into the wet, hot pressure of his mouth. God that felt good, it was what she needed. So when he pulled away again, she literally growled, even if it was for so practical a matter as procuring protection. "You want me," Amber spread her arms open, welcoming him into them, "you take me."

Without him wrapped around her, sensory overload dizzying her, Amber could take a moment to appreciate Eric's intensity. He moved sleek and fast, a feline prowling its prey, his gaze filled with hunger. She couldn't doubt how much he wanted her, and it was so, so arousing. Overflowing with sheer desire, and willing to act on it… Amber didn't see him like this often enough.

Her shoulder blades and spine dug into the wood, just as Eric's digits pressed into her flesh, raising her; she did her part, wrapping her left arm around his shoulder, and how slicked with sweat was his back. It afforded her no hold, and she might've slipped, but Amber knew she wouldn't, not with Eric holding her up; and then his latex-covered erection was finally, at long last, penetrating her entrance, stretching her open. Wet as she was, Amber took him in easily, eagerly.

God, they were fucking against a restaurant bathroom door.

At least they could be pretty sure no one would burst in on them now, lock undone or not; their joint weight would keep the door closed.

Amber glanced to the side, where they featured, large as life, in the mirror. If Eric inside and around her hadn't been enough to set her heart racing, their reflection would've done the job. She could see them in all their glory: her reddened skin and mussed hair, his arm and leg muscles flexed to support her weight. Fuck. Her own thigh hid his dick, but her legs wrapped around his hips, the shine of his ass, it was more than enough. Shuddering, she needed the pulse of his thrusts, to feel Eric deep inside.

Once more Amber was caught between two: watching them in the mirror and looking straight at Eric's face, its lines boldly defined with exquisite pleasure. Jesus, how could she pick? Undecided, she looked back and forth, all the while rolling herself against Eric, her right hand rubbing her clit fast and furious. He wouldn't, couldn't last long, and she wanted to come here, now, with him fucking her. She daren't even speak the phrases galloping in her mind, like oh fuck yes and come inside me, lest it hastened his orgasm. But the various whimpers and moans, she couldn't hold those back, not even as she kissed his jaw, his beard scratching her lips.
amber_v: Hiya, lips. Why so sad? (lips)

[personal profile] amber_v 2009-09-07 01:46 pm (UTC)(link)
Amber's eyes widened, stunned by Eric's words. He was speaking her mind, growling out the very thoughts turning her on. But, oh how much better to hear them in his voice, with a desesperation as if those images were making as wild as she. Wilder. New waves of arousal crashed through her, and she could ride this out, yes, she could. Would. "Unn," she tried, and when that didn't work, Amber focused harder. "Not-- not as much as I like watching you--" She curved to whisper in his ear. "Us."

And just then, a perfectly timed roll of their hips hit her just when she needed it, or maybe it was the way he squeezed her thigh that sealed the deal, the pitch of his groans she sensed rumbling from abdomen, his chest. Whatever it was, Amber thrust back against the door, pushing her pelvis against him, crying out softly, overtaken. This wasn't-- she'd just come, she shouldn't have come again this fast, and it wasn't as good, as pure, as when Eric had brought her off beneath the table, but this was so much more intense, Eric himself shaking with release, his rapid thrusts only prolonging her orgasm. Scarier, too, Out there it had been so simple, a bit of naughty fun, them playing around. Eyes squeezed shut, Amber let herself soak up the last of her pleasure, shuddering as Eric mouthed her throat.

But as the last of the orgasm lingered away, Amber breathed in deep and opened her eyes. She'd slid back down to her feet, her soles back on the floor. The mirror showed all: the disaray of Eric's remaining clothes, her nakedness. What had just happened? Not the physical facts, Amber knew those well enough. They'd made out, she'd come, Eric had run away, and she-- she'd been so angry. She felt none of that fury now, just drained and bewildred, their bodies cooling, Eric's penis decreasing in size inside her. She didn't know what to think.

Amber brought her hands to Eric's shoulders, squeezed them for a second before pushing him slightly, just enough to make him slip out, for her to maneouver to the sink. "Wow," she said, so he'd know she wasn't-- running away or anything, not like him. She just needed a moment or twenty. "That was... wow." The water she splashed on her face was cold, refreshing. It made her able to look up again, into the reflection of Eric's eyes.
amber_v: Aw, man, don't pout at me (lean)

[personal profile] amber_v 2009-09-07 08:54 pm (UTC)(link)
Water droplets ran down her face as Eric padded towards her, wrapping himself around her. Amber wasn't even sure if she wanted him near, much less hugging her, but his touch drew her in, and she leaned back, angling her cheek to brush against his.

It bothered her. It bothered her a lot, the fact that Eric could shake her that badly, disturb her so much. Amber wasn't one to care about opinions; other people's judgments were nothing more than barriers to what she wanted and she never let them stand in her way. Okay, maybe she didn't love the fact that most of her classmates and coworkers watched out as they expected her to pull a dagger out at any moment. But being callous and self-centered had worked for her.

Her skin tingled as Eric combed her hair, fingertips fluttering over her skin. This was more complicated than she'd imagined. She thought she'd be okay with being into Eric and whatever else that meant; up until now she'd assumed the worst of it would be fighting, boredom, or having to chose between him and work. That he could make her feel like trash over a few words and actions, that she hadn’t seen coming. Though, really, she should've; it was one of the reasons why she'd sworn off serious dating in high school.

I want to do so much when I'm with you. Despite her hesitations, Amber clasped her hands over his, unable to pull away. She didn't understand that statement any better than she had the previous one. Was it only literal, that he got sexually adventurous with her, or were there other readings? And when had she become someone kept analyzing the meanings behind casual statements? If she wasn't careful, she'd start asking Eric how he felt her about her and where he saw this going.

She smiled. This musing thing was going too far. "We're just getting started," she said. "I suggest our next big step be eating dinner; if the staff hasn't decided to throw us out, our food should’ve arrived by now. It’s probably all cold.” Nimbly extracting herself from his hold, she gathered her scattered clothes and began redressing herself. They’d probably have to talk, at some point, but she didn’t want to right now.
amber_v: Hiya, lips. Why so sad? (lips)

[personal profile] amber_v 2009-09-08 02:23 pm (UTC)(link)
It was nice to focus on something so banal as getting dressed: legs through cotton holes, nylon sliding over skin, zipper up, and a round button to seal her skirt. None of it required much attention; she could do this in her sleep. But the familiarity gave her comfort. Not everything had to be earth-tilting and confusing.

By the time she got her bra and shirt back on, Amber felt much better, not as weak and defenseless. Eric smiled her, not entirely without some sheepishness, but mostly glowing, like they'd performed some great crime and gotten away with it. Which, actually, wasn't too far from the truth. So was he glad to have fucked her in public? He wouldn't resent her for making him commit a felony? Or had House broken him in to ignore the law already, and he'd only needed a bit of goading to commit a sex-related infraction?

"Who says we have to sneak out?" Amber tilted her head, grinning. "Maybe they're waiting for us to walk out hand-in-hand, and they'll give us a standing ovation." His suit, she couldn't help noticing, was back in place, aligned as it should be. Yet there were wrinkles in the pants that wouldn't be smoothed out by hands, and she wondered if his shirt wasn't stained with sweat. "Or they're lining up, waiting impatiently for their turn."

Touching him was just a question of reaching out. So much to go for: a tug on his tie, a hand wrapped over his, her arms around his torso. But Amber still felt too raw for that, like skin worn down to sensitivity by repeated rubbing.

Eric did have a point: it was probably better they didn’t go out together. She doubted they’d get in trouble for walking out of the bathroom at the same time, but it wouldn’t hurt to be careful. And they could play it like a game. “You go first, then. One knock if it’s clear, twenty if I should stay inside.” She winked at him.

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