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Construction of Parallels
by liam22
House and Cameron hesitated to call it a relationship.
They don't go to dinner. Not after that disastrous first time.
They don't go to the movies. House's couch is more convenient for the times he gets bored in the middle of the movie and has a desperate need to use her for entertainment.
They don't go dancing. Watching the little shimmy she does getting undressed had always been enough for him.
They hesitate to call it a relationship; it's more like a construction of parallels.
One enters.
The other leaves.
***
On their first official date, House tore her apart and watched her pretend it didn't hurt. Later, he wondered if she went home and cried herself to sleep. She seemed like the type.
It isn't until House started running again, that he got the urge to make it up to her.
Cameron opened up the door and found him standing there, dressed in his running gear, and holding an Indian takeout bag.
When she woke up alone the next morning, she could still taste him, mixed in with the curry, on her breath.
***
His eyes immediately sought her out when he entered the bar, a move that had practically become a second nature. Cameron was sitting with her back to the door, trying her hardest to seem like she wasn't waiting for someone. House could read it on her, even if no one else could.
He had slipped two quarters into the jukebox. He had asked her to meet him here, specifically because it had one. Cameron turned around, when she heard the song of his choice, and gave him a knowing smile before she turned back around.
House picked out the perfect guy, as arrogant as hell, a younger version of him. Cameron was too beautiful for this guy to resist the bet, especially when the guy was sure he could win.
Cameron looked straight at House, when she accepted the dance. Her eyes not leaving his, as she shimmied against the stranger. The beat got stronger, wilder, and in kind, so did her dancing. Yet, they never broke eye contact.
The fifty dollars he lost was well worth it. House was blind to the way she moved until the first time he watched her dance. Before, she was just graceful. But, as he watched her move in time to the primal beat, it made him aware of how truly erotic her movement was.
Yes, he knew Cameron would dance beautifully. Just like she fucked.
Her partner turned her around and when she could again glance back in his direction, he was gone.
***
After that, they start hanging out a bit more. It only took Cameron once more to realize that she couldn't take him out anywhere.
They tried the movies that time. They didn't argue over the choice; he wasn't planning on watching much of it anyways. They had popcorn, and the other sweet snacks he required; the previews started without incident.
House rested his arm around her shoulder and she leaned into him, secretly thrilled with the tiny public display. Fifteen minutes later his hand snuck down to cup her breast through her shirt. House smirked when she just bit her lip and let him continue.
The groping escalated until Cameron dragged him out of the theater. Any more of his antics and they would have given the audience a show of their own. They stopped outside the door, and she pulled him in for a long, hot kiss.
He backed her up against the wall, so he could have easier access to her breasts. Hands touched skin for the first time. Her own snaked under his shirt, with a need to feel those strong muscles beneath her fingertips. They simultaneously broke apart gasping, at an angry sound to their left. House glared at the theater attendant, and an embarrassed Cameron pulled them away.
She drove them back to his place. His hand high on her thigh the entire trip. They didn't make it to the bed; instead they fell into the first solid material that could hold them, with fast heated passion. They didn't bother removing their clothing, it would have taken too much time, instead it was just tugged it aside. It only took a few hard strokes until they both reach their peak.
This time House was the one to watch as she left.
***
It would be easy to slip up in the ruse and call it a relationship. Pride was the only thing keeping them from it.
House and Cameron knew they were nothing more than a string of lies covering up a string of one night stands.
One enters.
The other leaves.
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Legal Disclaimer: The authors published here make no claims on the ownership of Dr. Gregory House and the other fictional residents of Princeton-Plainsboro Teaching Hospital. Like the television show House (and quite possibly Dr. Wilson's pocket protector), they are the property of NBC/Universal, David Shore and undoubtedly other individuals of whom I am only peripherally aware. The fan fiction authors published here receive no monetary benefit from their work and intend no copyright infringement nor slight to the actual owners. We love the characters and we love the show, otherwise we wouldn't be here.
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