Lisa Cuddy/Stacy Warner ; House, MD
Title: Intimacy
Fandom: House
Characters: Cuddy/Stacy
Prompt: 81 - How?
Word Count: 926
Rating: PG:13
Summary: It’s not that big of a problem, really.
Author's Notes: Despite being in the middle of exams, I still wanna write.
Stacy always had a high sex drive. Not incredibly high, like a teen boy who just discovered the wonders of masturbation, but high enough that Lisa, who didn’t find herself all that keen to jump into the sack at any given moment, often found herself tired, weary and swearing that if one more couple came into the clinic because of sexual problems she’d shoot morphine straight into their ass.
But it was okay, really, because Stacy was married. Not that it excused their relationship any, but when Stacy didn’t stay the night at Lisa’s (only when she and Mark fought, which was becoming increasingly common), Lisa would stretch out on her bed in her white nightgown, hair out and wonder just what Stacy was doing.
Maybe she’d be helping Mark with his physio.
Or maybe she’d be doing the dishes, and stacking them away.
Or maybe she’d be entwined in Mark’s arms, kissing him the way she kissed Lisa when she was close to her climax, and fall beside him, so not to hurt him in any way.
Stacy never questioned Lisa about sex, and Lisa never said how sometimes (a lot of the time, really) she was never up for sex. So the times when Stacy stayed at Mark’s, Lisa relished the sex-less nights, and would stay up watching movies, or go to bed early, or even treat herself to baking a cake- a treat she only did once a month because she’d eat most of the batter and barely have enough left for the rest of the cake.
Oh, they didn’t have sex every time Stacy came over. But when she did, Lisa was usually not in the mood. It wasn’t usually a problem- Lisa could let herself go, and watch Stacy close her eyes as Lisa kissed the soft swell of her breast. Or listen as she nuzzled into the crook of her neck and slip a finger inside of her. Or feel the way she tensed, her fingers curling into Lisa’s back, and the way she breathed hot air onto her shoulder as she bent her head, hair brushing against her skin. But Lisa cherished the times when Stacy wasn’t in the mood, or it was never mentioned, or when it didn’t even wind up with them sweaty with Stacy completely satisfied and Lisa feeling mildly frustrated at how she couldn’t get into the mood as quickly as Stacy could.
For a while, Lisa thought that maybe Stacy couldn’t tell. Couldn’t tell that she usually hated it when Stacy would start stroking her hair the way she did when she was feeling particularly lusty, or when Stacy ‘surprised’ her in the shower, or how she would just start kissing her. Lisa didn’t hate it every time- in fact, there were times when she was in the mood, and she nearly pounced on Stacy the moment they walked through the door.
But one day, after lunch, Stacy sprung the question on her.
‘Do you like having sex with me?’
Lisa looked up from the sheets on her desk, one of them between her fingers. Stacy sat before her, the documents on her lap, hands folded on top.
Lisa blinked a few times, taken off guard. ‘Of course I do,’ she finally said, finding her own words weak.
‘You just seem…’ Stacy paused, breathing slowly through her nose. She’d spent the night before at Lisa’s, and although the bed hadn’t squeaked, Lisa knew she was in the mood. ‘You just seem angry afterwards.’
‘I’m not angry…’
Stacy pursed her lips, setting the sheets of paper on Lisa’s desk. ‘Angry’s not the right word… irritated would be a better word for it.’
‘I… I get tired afterwards, it’s understandable.’
‘Lisa.’ Stacy folded her hands on the lap again, expression becoming serious. ‘If you don’t want to have sex, we don’t have to.’
Giving a laugh, Lisa shook her head, sorting through the legal documents, if only to give her hands something to do. ‘No, I… sex is fine, I don’t mind.’
‘I understand completely if you find it difficult to keep up with me sexually.’
There was a pause. Stacy reached over the desk and took Lisa’s hand in hers. Looking up, corners of her lips pinched, Lisa sighed softly.
‘We’ll work something out,’ Stacy whispered.
*
It wasn’t as exciting as sex (for Stacy), but it worked (for Lisa). Stacy’s body was warm, her arms crossed over Lisa’s chest as they leant back against the foot of the couch. Stacy’s legs were propped up beside Lisa’s stretched ones, her head resting upon Lisa’s. ‘In My Life’ flowed from the speakers of the stereo, the soft Baroque-esque piano tune seeming to echo around them. Lisa closed her eyes, leaning against Stacy. Tilting her head back, she kissed the underside of her jaw.
Two glasses of champagne sat beside them, their finished dinner plates stacked at the corner of the couch, knives and forks on top.
Pulling back, a smile playing on her lips, she rubbed Stacy’s hand with her thumb.
‘This is nice,’ she whispered. Stacy nodded, closing her eyes. Lisa let out a content sigh, closing her own eyes. ‘Wait’ came on. Stacy ran her hands up Lisa’s arms and up to her hair. Running her fingers through it, curling a finger through some strands, she kissed the back of her neck before letting her hand fall. It landed in Lisa’s lap where she curled her fingers through Stacy’s.
‘Yeah, it is.’
So it wasn’t sex. But it didn’t make it that less intimate.
Fandom: House
Characters: Cuddy/Stacy
Prompt: 81 - How?
Word Count: 926
Rating: PG:13
Summary: It’s not that big of a problem, really.
Author's Notes: Despite being in the middle of exams, I still wanna write.
Stacy always had a high sex drive. Not incredibly high, like a teen boy who just discovered the wonders of masturbation, but high enough that Lisa, who didn’t find herself all that keen to jump into the sack at any given moment, often found herself tired, weary and swearing that if one more couple came into the clinic because of sexual problems she’d shoot morphine straight into their ass.
But it was okay, really, because Stacy was married. Not that it excused their relationship any, but when Stacy didn’t stay the night at Lisa’s (only when she and Mark fought, which was becoming increasingly common), Lisa would stretch out on her bed in her white nightgown, hair out and wonder just what Stacy was doing.
Maybe she’d be helping Mark with his physio.
Or maybe she’d be doing the dishes, and stacking them away.
Or maybe she’d be entwined in Mark’s arms, kissing him the way she kissed Lisa when she was close to her climax, and fall beside him, so not to hurt him in any way.
Stacy never questioned Lisa about sex, and Lisa never said how sometimes (a lot of the time, really) she was never up for sex. So the times when Stacy stayed at Mark’s, Lisa relished the sex-less nights, and would stay up watching movies, or go to bed early, or even treat herself to baking a cake- a treat she only did once a month because she’d eat most of the batter and barely have enough left for the rest of the cake.
Oh, they didn’t have sex every time Stacy came over. But when she did, Lisa was usually not in the mood. It wasn’t usually a problem- Lisa could let herself go, and watch Stacy close her eyes as Lisa kissed the soft swell of her breast. Or listen as she nuzzled into the crook of her neck and slip a finger inside of her. Or feel the way she tensed, her fingers curling into Lisa’s back, and the way she breathed hot air onto her shoulder as she bent her head, hair brushing against her skin. But Lisa cherished the times when Stacy wasn’t in the mood, or it was never mentioned, or when it didn’t even wind up with them sweaty with Stacy completely satisfied and Lisa feeling mildly frustrated at how she couldn’t get into the mood as quickly as Stacy could.
For a while, Lisa thought that maybe Stacy couldn’t tell. Couldn’t tell that she usually hated it when Stacy would start stroking her hair the way she did when she was feeling particularly lusty, or when Stacy ‘surprised’ her in the shower, or how she would just start kissing her. Lisa didn’t hate it every time- in fact, there were times when she was in the mood, and she nearly pounced on Stacy the moment they walked through the door.
But one day, after lunch, Stacy sprung the question on her.
‘Do you like having sex with me?’
Lisa looked up from the sheets on her desk, one of them between her fingers. Stacy sat before her, the documents on her lap, hands folded on top.
Lisa blinked a few times, taken off guard. ‘Of course I do,’ she finally said, finding her own words weak.
‘You just seem…’ Stacy paused, breathing slowly through her nose. She’d spent the night before at Lisa’s, and although the bed hadn’t squeaked, Lisa knew she was in the mood. ‘You just seem angry afterwards.’
‘I’m not angry…’
Stacy pursed her lips, setting the sheets of paper on Lisa’s desk. ‘Angry’s not the right word… irritated would be a better word for it.’
‘I… I get tired afterwards, it’s understandable.’
‘Lisa.’ Stacy folded her hands on the lap again, expression becoming serious. ‘If you don’t want to have sex, we don’t have to.’
Giving a laugh, Lisa shook her head, sorting through the legal documents, if only to give her hands something to do. ‘No, I… sex is fine, I don’t mind.’
‘I understand completely if you find it difficult to keep up with me sexually.’
There was a pause. Stacy reached over the desk and took Lisa’s hand in hers. Looking up, corners of her lips pinched, Lisa sighed softly.
‘We’ll work something out,’ Stacy whispered.
*
It wasn’t as exciting as sex (for Stacy), but it worked (for Lisa). Stacy’s body was warm, her arms crossed over Lisa’s chest as they leant back against the foot of the couch. Stacy’s legs were propped up beside Lisa’s stretched ones, her head resting upon Lisa’s. ‘In My Life’ flowed from the speakers of the stereo, the soft Baroque-esque piano tune seeming to echo around them. Lisa closed her eyes, leaning against Stacy. Tilting her head back, she kissed the underside of her jaw.
Two glasses of champagne sat beside them, their finished dinner plates stacked at the corner of the couch, knives and forks on top.
Pulling back, a smile playing on her lips, she rubbed Stacy’s hand with her thumb.
‘This is nice,’ she whispered. Stacy nodded, closing her eyes. Lisa let out a content sigh, closing her own eyes. ‘Wait’ came on. Stacy ran her hands up Lisa’s arms and up to her hair. Running her fingers through it, curling a finger through some strands, she kissed the back of her neck before letting her hand fall. It landed in Lisa’s lap where she curled her fingers through Stacy’s.
‘Yeah, it is.’
So it wasn’t sex. But it didn’t make it that less intimate.