FF: The Cruelest Month
Title: The Cruelest Month
Author: Ellie
Rating: PG13
Summary: “With very little effort, she would have her choice of two men to share this bed with her…”
Vague spoilers through “House Training”. Title with apologies to Mr. Eliot.
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She lay in bed, eyes closed, enjoying the feel of the cool morning air ruffling her sheets, carrying the scent of lilacs and damp earth. The fresh air made the sheets feel just a little softer, made the bed just a bit more inviting of her lingering, ignoring the alarm waiting to send her careening through another day.
The alarm didn’t have to be her only companion on this April morning. With very little effort, she would have her choice of two men to share this bed with her, perhaps even both of them if she’d been interested in that; she doubted they’d object, not the way they acted together.
No, she thought, stretching her arms above her head and feeling the breeze whisper through her sheer curtains and over her fingers, either or both of them would have been in her bed at the slightest invitation. House even without one if he thought she wouldn’t emasculate him. He’d looked at her with that same appreciation of the physical since the day she’d met him, a lifetime ago. One hasty, ill-advised night hadn’t been enough to dampen that, had only seemed to encourage him, and it had gotten worse lately. He’d gotten decidedly personal recently, in ways that made her uncomfortable for a legion of reasons, but she couldn’t bring herself to put up more than a half-hearted protest.
Wilson, on the other had, she was certain she could have, but only if she was the one to drag him into bed over his polite protestations. He was always nervously respectful, in the way he was with all the ladies before they fell crying on his shoulder and he comforted them into bed and sometimes into marriage. She could have him, but she’d watched him fumble through that twice now, seeming sincere and flustered all the while, and she wasn’t falling for it. She’d seen how those relationships inevitably ended.
He would make love that way, too, tender and earnest and so damn caring. Wilson was not the type to slam a girl back against a door upon her arrival and have his way with her, or to wake her in the middle of the night with a stinging nibble along her upper thigh. He was a the type for candles and wine and roses, because he thought it was how it was done. That was all well and good, sometimes, but it wasn’t always what she wanted.
With House, on the other hand, she knew all too well what she’d be inviting into her bed. While lacking the physical ability to have his way against the cool shower wall, he was more than willing to try anything, more than once. She’d had fun with him, but simple fun was no more what she wanted than sheltered coddling.
When had it become so hard to have both? Stretching across the warm, empty expanse of bed, she wondered if it might not be wiser to invite both of them over for dinner and see where it led. Certainly it couldn’t end with worse than this lonely bed, with the sound of lilacs rustling outside her window being overwhelmed by the screech of her alarm. Inhaling deeply, she tumbled out of bed, cool air rushing over her resolved shoulders.
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End
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Author: Ellie
Rating: PG13
Summary: “With very little effort, she would have her choice of two men to share this bed with her…”
Vague spoilers through “House Training”. Title with apologies to Mr. Eliot.
****
She lay in bed, eyes closed, enjoying the feel of the cool morning air ruffling her sheets, carrying the scent of lilacs and damp earth. The fresh air made the sheets feel just a little softer, made the bed just a bit more inviting of her lingering, ignoring the alarm waiting to send her careening through another day.
The alarm didn’t have to be her only companion on this April morning. With very little effort, she would have her choice of two men to share this bed with her, perhaps even both of them if she’d been interested in that; she doubted they’d object, not the way they acted together.
No, she thought, stretching her arms above her head and feeling the breeze whisper through her sheer curtains and over her fingers, either or both of them would have been in her bed at the slightest invitation. House even without one if he thought she wouldn’t emasculate him. He’d looked at her with that same appreciation of the physical since the day she’d met him, a lifetime ago. One hasty, ill-advised night hadn’t been enough to dampen that, had only seemed to encourage him, and it had gotten worse lately. He’d gotten decidedly personal recently, in ways that made her uncomfortable for a legion of reasons, but she couldn’t bring herself to put up more than a half-hearted protest.
Wilson, on the other had, she was certain she could have, but only if she was the one to drag him into bed over his polite protestations. He was always nervously respectful, in the way he was with all the ladies before they fell crying on his shoulder and he comforted them into bed and sometimes into marriage. She could have him, but she’d watched him fumble through that twice now, seeming sincere and flustered all the while, and she wasn’t falling for it. She’d seen how those relationships inevitably ended.
He would make love that way, too, tender and earnest and so damn caring. Wilson was not the type to slam a girl back against a door upon her arrival and have his way with her, or to wake her in the middle of the night with a stinging nibble along her upper thigh. He was a the type for candles and wine and roses, because he thought it was how it was done. That was all well and good, sometimes, but it wasn’t always what she wanted.
With House, on the other hand, she knew all too well what she’d be inviting into her bed. While lacking the physical ability to have his way against the cool shower wall, he was more than willing to try anything, more than once. She’d had fun with him, but simple fun was no more what she wanted than sheltered coddling.
When had it become so hard to have both? Stretching across the warm, empty expanse of bed, she wondered if it might not be wiser to invite both of them over for dinner and see where it led. Certainly it couldn’t end with worse than this lonely bed, with the sound of lilacs rustling outside her window being overwhelmed by the screech of her alarm. Inhaling deeply, she tumbled out of bed, cool air rushing over her resolved shoulders.
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End
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