smutty

Im Dr. House, probably the smartest doctor in the world, don’t be an idiot.

House appraising Elise, immediately recalling their brief encounters in his mind, starting with the mitral valve prolapse incident – still not fully understanding how it may have transpired nor underneath the circumstances that brought them both face-to-face. From there to speculation and wonders upon wonders about what landed her a solid position at PPTH, although only being licensed recently. "Played rock paper scissors with the executives?" he quips sarcastically, voice tinted by a mix of confrontational curiosity and a barely suppressed eagerness for more explicit details.

Cuddy levels an annoyed glare at House in response to his seemingly asinine commentary - one she herself tries desperately not to give into. "You should be more careful with your comments Doctor House," she sniped

"Indeed," House responds, depressingly useful for information and general attempts at appearance of being on his best behavior. "Owning a hospital legacy isn't exactly news to me." Acknowledgment doesn't cloud over any previous feelings where they stand. On her way out, one more comment made: "Youngest doctor I know who owns their own hospital..." he cant help but remark suspiciously, curiosity still igniting like some cheap Harlan Ellison semi-short story.

"Cuddy?" Prompting the woman, as understanding is lost at some point within recent dealings and happenstance. What baffled him beyond belief - now explainable or not, ownership or lack thereof...a niggle persists there, acting a soft background refrain; drawing deeper concern with every passing moment between

House as always thinks fleetingly about his position on fire - in unexpected places. Rule of cool curdles itself rather quickly, from looks to sense where he might actually be a danger to those around him...but not that dangerously dangerous at least - but prolonged contact could reap severely bitter results. A consequence worth flirting with - at least in private, and even then, occasionally. "Elise."

"Expectations were always a luxury, weren't they?" House responds with an off-chance interest spike - Elise remains ever the figure of curiosity for him although the unspoken and actions refuse to break contact. He walks over to her, ready to seize the moment where opportunities present themselves by proffering his own analysis machine: a microscope of his own discreetly situated on a nearby table.

"You have a hard time reconciling seeing me here," It's validated like some winning trophy – undeniable fascination with her resistance in keeping their encounter yesterday softly irritating. "Your eagerness to pursue work mirrors your eagerness to inhabit your status as owner." A more observational take in his mind and mannerisms.

House arches an eyebrow, slightly bewitched by the new joke value he might have gotten from her - a most beautiful spider web mating ritual. "I imagine you believe such talk worthy of having walls close in around your maintenance of personal space like most normal doctors I know and socialize with each other freely on off hours," he remarks carelessly, mood happy with any outcome awaiting with just enough history to make observations separately long enough together for unrequited-and-willing interpretations. "Understandably following mitral valve prolapse, you remain cautious."

As much concealed as exposed, amusement is left at his sentence lecturing style (but not content intonation). "But then again sex is never routine...especially for a doctor," finished and left hanging, another soft smile from a grim face-

"Hmmm," House plays at impressive pretence, prompted to seek out further relationship-adventure hunts. Leaning against a nearby counter he fiddles with something there - though it's not easy telling exactly what. A light but firmly playful extra situation immediately follows: "There you see, I lend my back and give training on whatever "that" is you learned at the spa or massage place."

Another monotone development arises: "Sex is neither an uncommon thing nor a routine been set down by someone who forgets their job...this time." Throbbingly modern social references only serve to be facepalmed thanks to that part (near gutshot) draining humanity of irony to record itself into ether as amused silence.

Laughingly smirking now, and having such captive auditory prey - House sheds an instinctively undisturbed glacial calm. Shifting away from leaning on the cold counter, another short-stalked stride byways the lovely Elise's way to lead him close enough without regret. An almost flash-wild reddish eyebrow is raised with enjoyment halfway along their animatedly engaged passage, his manner comfortably sliding between careful and relentlessly happy-go-lucky-nerd flamboyancy.

"I hear your profession formally requires you to pursue certain private terms...lay low as amateurs, therefore, or maybe an amateur always?" He flickers a partially squinty smile onto his face as though unknown questions would fill separate pages in confidential files, instead offering it up for her as truth

Sure enough, before anything negative spools in House's overworked mind he addresses as follows: "I appreciate how you dodge the usual spectacular obscenity routes "you" consider necessary and thoughtless."

More than a pleasing response so far makes him smile in an odd way. "Sometimes I just drop by to see what I can learn, and after you opened your weird heart up to me who could resist more?" A tone for self-playfully mocking her reluctant confession takes on lighthearted ease since...the question bounced off like something excitingly unafraid of any repercussions. "Killing time is a great art form - as we painstakingly both swan dive head long into it to gratify variance," House capitalizes on dental preference with such certainness, "So I

Luckily, in House's hormone-addled mind and naturally occurring obsession with the pursuit alone* a light came on that for rudimentary doctors his own 'time killing' wasn't so simple; implying say the correct intricacies of conversation.* Imagine a live performance art piece!

Staring down at Elise momentarily, then: "Is...that "all" you've got? Not that me singing random tips and clues isn't flattering to my inner music star...or whatever." Driving her toward a rather certain decision "(in plausible reference to a similar situation)," he lassoed a nearby handrail without regard.

Before she turned back toward him the fingers embroidered an elaborate almost expert design that leaped from controlled chaos*: as visionless super

There is a sudden quick pause in House's otherwise continuous and fast talking only because--well there's just so much to think about like doing that diagnostic trajectory. Why not let himself really get going on these sorts of things?

His hand instantly drops the railing, windows thus providing quicker escape: always safety-conscious here if there is a thin chance for a decent errand he just acts stable. Furthermore he clearly wants more than this indulgence-finding that slow negotiation can be so satisfying; he absolutely means business now.

Yes, of course there are other methods... Except now he might seem a little like an unapologetic temporary time drifter as their lab coats' high talking finally revealed the fact that he does have his own personal and professional methodology. Allowing him to sort through months--years it seems of accumulated self-taught wisdom.*

"Good, let's keep at this" Then again noticing if she will act up accordingly or merely follow his lead is almost encouragingly welcomed. Even as chance would enable House and Elise realizing that they share something in common it was so obvious that any useful knowledge gained during these productive sessions takes total precedence over whatever forces them* towards competition.

Purely because his spidey senses are highly fined tuned House could almost play these games to his favor--it might be a stress reliever for Elise but not only does he want action...but perhaps engage in consensual adult activities. Which sort though? Since she doesn't have much idea so is he blatantly obvious*

Maintaining eye-contact he watches her as they make steady progress towards the door and with luck there might even appear to be a small and seemingly inappropriate smile in the very same moment; "Like minded individuals can be rather delightful--assuming of course you're interested in more than just..colleagues."

Do as she wishes--House knows what the real reason is. And it's pleasing, almost intoxicating: exhilaration and damn, excitement if anything else at those bonded thought-waves under their skin so intricately intertwined; why not go a step further?!

Yet he can figure out whether Elise knew that everything she said was considered highly dangerous for them both, completely aware of both House's professional and personal limitations* Doesn't matter anymore he decides as they reach the double doors to an operating room adjacent from a sterile waiting area.

"Put up or shut up... time to find out just how in depth these wild ideas are when you've got my full attention.." He murmurs quietly, pulling open the door easily without too much effort needing to be exerted in

To reveal so many of his concealed desires to her; at this point there almost seems nothing that could provoke him from lingering hesitations. It's a guilty pleasure, a rush of adrenaline and cortisol*; aggressively sashaying into the uncharted-driven perils of the greatest game they would know: stripping both minds down until only nerves are left.

"Consider it my wildcard then.." There's veiled satisfaction surfacing only in his tone as he leans forward clammy hands coming into contact with ostensibly smooth vinyl* of the operating bed. One can see the glimmer of triumph born within him; however as if simultaneously draining into the ground beneath them implacably as Elise hurls aside caution using an understandably heavy-handed approach.

So bold, but what limits are placed on bounds via games like this one? It's a slight reminder that these doctors can be consummated colleagues but they might very well become more intimate. She is no longer the innocent hospital administrator nor the skilled anesthesiologist; she dares to express something far beyond those roles.

Closing the remaining gap between them, not as unusual for House considering they were probably working closer together than one would expect --the rest seemed surreal more so elsewhere*. Still, their breath is intermingling in the confines of the small, otherwise plain room: muted colors exist here and simplicity creates serenity in certain instances. Him and Elise; they slightly shimmer hypothalamic axis radiation: once too many hearts equal twice the passion to burn through all the grays.

"Time's already past, even before we were standing here trading innuendos." House murmurs between kisses; biting his bottom lip to contain guttural sounds originating from deep within the pit of his stomach. How do you suppress it? Forces himself to withdraw slightly, though whether this was an improvement is open to debate*. But now there'll be plenty of chances.

Eyes locked on each other they navigate the ground beneath their skin and they fall into a pattern: visual stimulation coupled with the physical act of removing clothing --a slow dance that unites them as they inch closer together in every aspect.

"Does 'deranged' factor into your attraction, darling?" The question spilled out before he could consciously filter the lustful tones which permeated through the remnants of good ol

"A bra?" House winces as he tries to cover up his snicker, holding back not only laughter but also the need to shudder. Taking a step back slightly, he refocuses on the object in front of him: olive-skinned lady stripping down for the likes of House; unreal feeling piercing through dark corners of his mind. "I suppose you've satisfied my wildest dreams."

Leaning forward once more, less hesitant this time around, he gently brushes her lips with his own before his gaze flicks away --for reasons untold and undisclosed. Yet there's to be no hiding when he seizes her arm exposing the silkiness which clings so well against her skin.

"No hideous thong, I take it?" He teases back,

"Always the tease, Elise Margarette Smith." House complies with her request, dragging on the fine lace fabric before seemingly contemplating how he could use it against her later. The thought brings a twisted grin onto his face that only appears occasionally; absentminded and chaotic all at once.

Brushing his fingertips just above her tight skin while connecting dots from earlier, something must have clicked because there was no hesitation when House's hands made their way to her lower abdomen --resting upon the soft strip of undies she wore. Slipping them down easily baring the smooth skin beneath. "I reckon I got more than enough of your pearls to play with," he murmurs possessively, caressing her more forcefully as he circles an arm around her waist in

"Finally." House uttered, a hint of relief colouring his words as he exchanged one set of desires from darkened corners of his mind for the visual fulfilment before him. He felt his lips curl instinctively, a primal expression overtaking his face; nothing matched caving into basic instincts.

Gentle fingers flex and bask bolder movements in complement to Elise's own decisive affair with her body. "Is this how you want it?" He enquired slowly, breath shallow only due to anticipation.

He moved closer but gave room for her to spread legs wider, capturing the beauty which lay bathed before him --his thoughts drawn pristine form against deep pink contract, followed by an expanse, glossy and wet. He ran a finger near the entrance, paus

"As you desire." House purred, losing restraint of arousal now. As soon as he felt her body reciprocate the opening invitation, he slid his thumb against her engorged lips and hummed in agreement to each wicked way which resounded through wicked minds. Neither dead nor alive; it's just that everything felt perfect --except he craved total submission from the challenge ahead.

He moves and kneels at the edge instead, reaching for some lotion nearby before pouring a generous amount onto his fingers. Rubbing softly, allowing moisture to sink into starving skin as his eyes linger upon captive sight of exposed labias. One finger versus five, time to play this game hard. He nodded, bring himself back down right beside Elise, but with presence so enrightened. "I hope

"You're asking for it," House murmured against her throat, another bite tugging deliberately into soft skin while pressing harder on hid clit. The moan sufficed as a declaration; he dragged finger through slick portal as a practiced tease. "This is exactly what you need."

He rears himself back, cagey anticipation filling his weaknesses; the anachronism that inhabited these moments. His knees flank her hips precisely and then he lowers down onto her, thrusting confidently. Grinning tangibly when her eyes widen in shocked unison with a burst of pain that extends down to her spine at the sudden impact. Elise gasped softly and a thrill soon sweeps over him, feeling very much we encourage himself well served.