| |
Balanced
by ThisRandomFolk
Balance. It's a bitch, but we have it. We found it, I think. Today is our half-year mark, a place I never imagined being. This relationship should have fallen apart. All logic dictated that it would, but it didn't. I'm happy. Is that so shocking? Could be, but I don't care. Holding him in my arms is a different sort of heaven than I'd ever expected. Yet the rest of my life is disturbingly normal. Nobody batted an eyelid when they found out, not that I could tell if they had eyelids at all. Work is, work. I have to do twice as much to end up at the same conclusions, it's a game of making up for what this has left me with. I don't know what this is, do I? I'm a diagnostician and I still cannot diagnose myself. But I swore to myself I would not let myself get caught up in it, and damnit I'm trying. I'm actually a social being now. We go shopping. We go dancing and I feel the music vibrating through every little cell within me. There's a sort of fire that's beyond my comprehension, if only because I choose to leave it outside of understanding. It makes it all more powerful.
This place smells of spice. It's sharp and like a lightening bolt through me. I feel his hand tap my own. "Seated." I nod. I follow his steps, the refined sort that say "I belong here" until he pushes me into a booth and slides in the other side. I feel a female hand place something underneath me. I flip it open and allow my fingers to skim the brailled menu. Finding something suitable I wave at him and sign "you done?" I can still speak just fine, but this makes our conversation just a little more intimate. I feel him tap my own hand twice, and I nod. For most, this might seem like the appropriate cue to start a conversation, but I understand him better than that. I clasp his hand and just sit, content. When the waiter brings my food, I smile widely and thank her. It's not half bad, a curried chicken. Finally, we're headed home.
I've barely made it through the door when I pull him in close. I kiss him, gently at first, and then with the sort of fire that suggests I've found some amazing new pleasure. We move to our room..I undress slowly, and then find him and remove his own clothing. He grabs onto my back and pulls me close, so close I can feel every detail on his body, understand just how much he is enjoying this. He pushes me onto the bed and I feel the nightstand shaking. He turns me over and I soon feel slippery fingers on my ass, first one pushing in, then two. "No." I say, and he freezes up. I decide it would be a good idea to add to that thought "Don't make this easy for me." With that, he removes his fingers and I now feel a much larger object threatening me. I brace myself for the pain, but it doesn't stop me from crying out when it's there. His thrusts are sharp and unrelenting and I'm loving every second of it. It's his name I cry out.
Please post a comment on this story.
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.
|