alwaysright | November 5, 2007

Lonely: that was Amber's first drowsy feeling to waking up alone. It was still dark and her alarm hadn't gone off. She'd woken up this way countless times, perhaps most of her life, and yet it felt wrong not having someone in here with her. Someone to make muffled but satisfied sounds as she climbed onto them, kissing and being held back. She missed Eric and it hadn't even been more than half a day since they'd parted.

Despite how keenly she felt his absence, Amber couldn't help smiling into her pillow. She'd become conditioned to having him in her bed. The space seemed pointlessly immense without him hogging half of it. Well, there was an easy solution: get him in here soon. Luring him back shouldn't be a problem; Amber could think of half a dozen ways to convince him and that was without trying.

The only reason he wasn't there as she stretched, working out the lasting soreness from their basketball game, was because they both had lives to get back to; Amber had house chores, as probably did Eric, and her reading wouldn't get done through sheer wishing. If it weren't for that, Amber would've been happy to spend another weekend afternoon with him, even after all the ups-and-downs on Saturday.

Still, she'd see him today at work. That was reason enough to make her spring out of bed earlier, so as to pretty herself up all the more. Eric would notice and appreciate her effort; it'd make up for how disgustingly casual she'd been around him this weekend.

The fact that she'd worn his Colombia hoodie to bed... what he didn't know wouldn't hurt her.

Her mom had called Sunday, pointedly asking if she should expect only Amber or plus one for Thanksgiving. "Just me, mom."

"Hmmm?" she'd intoned, judgment and curiosity rolled into a single package. Amber just hoped there wasn't a dash of hope mixed in there. "Broke up already?"

"No," Amber replied with more vehemence than necessary, thinking back on how instantly tense Eric had become at the mere mention of the visit. With his mother's disease, his brother's imprisonment, and his dad's who-knew-what, it might actually be because it was too hard for him to face anyone's family and not because he was scared to meet hers specifically. "It's barely been a week. We're still getting to know each other."

"A few days ago it sounded like you were about to marry him, has it cooled off already? Are you bored with the sex?"

It was the bit about marriage that made Amber sputter softly. Yeah, keeping Eric away was the wisest course of action. "Everything is fine, mom. We're still together and, no, not bored with the sex." There definitely was nothing wrong with their sex life-- in fact, the very opposite. For all that Amber fretted that they were drying up into a drought, Saturday night had been sweetly intimate, in an orgasm-filled way, and Sunday morning they'd tried out the lazy morning sex she'd been anticipating so much. Turned out it was every bit as delicious as she'd imagined.

Aside from that and having to hear her mom describe in minute detail her Thanksgiving plans (arranging rides to pick up her brothers at the airport, finding accommodation for non-immediate family members, shopping for the cheapest yet best food, and on and on and on), Amber's Sunday had been pretty quiet. Just her, her journals, and an endless supply of coffee.

Monday Amber took the time to blow-dry her hair and apply a more careful, if still absolutely professional, layer of makeup than she usually bothered to for work. It made her feel good all morning long, through breakfast and the drive. But as she stepped into the parking lot, the same way she'd started so many other days at PPTH, reluctance overcame her. Things were different here. It'd been so easy to forget once Friday rolled around and they'd fled the hospital, but she had bigger things to think about than "them." She had a career, a purpose. He had his. His partially consisted of keeping her under control; hers, stomping all over him as the occasion called.

It'd keep their sex lives interesting, Amber mused as she shut her car door.

It wasn't just how different their relationship had to be, though. There were other people to consider as well. House, who needed to keep his nose in his own business; her pathetic colleagues, who already looked at her askew for sleeping with the pseudo-boss; and who knew who else decided they had the right to an opinion about her personal life. Ignoring them all would have to do as a policy, Amber decided; that and hunt down anyone who dared try to make her miserable.

Despite the extra time she'd spent in the bathroom and her unhurried breakfast, Amber still arrived before anyone else. A nice change of pace, compared to the previous week. Content, Amber chose an aisle seat in one of the middle rows and settled down with a more recent edition of JNEN.

Threaded | Flat

The difference between waking up with morning wood on Sunday, and in the same condition Monday, was that on Sunday Foreman's hard-on had already been nestled against the roundness of Amber's ass, his hand only had to slide up a few inches to cup her breast, and his soft breathing against her shoulder had turned into a gentle, open-mouthed kiss without so much as a thought. Today all he had was his own hand sneaking into his shorts before he'd fully woken up. When he blinked his eyes open, Foreman grunted, impatient with his own horniness. He was getting used to regular sex again, and it was as if his default state was turned on, probably from dreaming that he'd wake up next to her again. He didn't even want to indulge, without Amber; it just wasn't the same.

His dick wasn't listening to any comparisons, though. When Foreman knocked the covers off and made it into his shower, with the hot spray hitting his shoulders and the smell of soap in his nostrils, the memory of what Amber had done in the gym's shower came roaring back. A quick beat-off wouldn't make him late, and as long as he got to picture her on her knees, her knowing eyes meeting his while she closed her lips around his cock.

Foreman was nearly grinning when he got out of the shower. He shaved carefully, and tugged the cuffs of his suit jacket into place when he dressed, giving himself a satisfied look in the mirror as he did. Work or not, nothing was going to go wrong today. He ate quickly and poured his coffee into a travel mug for the drive to the hospital. House would be in late, of course. And the candidates would be assembling in the lecture theatre, like this was still med school. Last week, Foreman would have left them to it, content to get some work done until it seemed likely that House might actually show up. And yet today he found himself heading for the theatre, hardly remembering to go by the office and shuck his coat.

Outside the theatre's door, Foreman stopped and found himself smiling again. Amber was alone, early--well, so was he; they hadn't distracted each other this morning--and reading a journal, her legs crossed, lightly biting her lower lip as she concentrated. He opened the door, knowing the sound would catch her attention, and then jerked his head at the corridor, inviting her to sneak out into the hall for a minute, his smile still irrepressibly on his lips.

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