Seven Days of Smut: Wedded Wednesday

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And so endeth the author’s note.

Wedded Wednesday


“Behave yourself!” Cuddy hissed at him and her grip tightened on his cane.

The minister didn’t even break stride as he continued in his monotonous recital of the wedding vows. Cuddy still couldn’t believe she had been roped into this. Well, she could actually. Being maid of honour was her schtick. Something about always being the bridesmaid and never the bride. She shoved away the brief pang at the reminder of things she couldn’t have and glared at House instead.

The best man levelled his best glare right back at her and she rolled her eyes at him and then shot a meaningful look at the happy couple in front of them.

House just rolled his eyes and then subtly held up three fingers towards her. Her glare intensified and he let his hand drop.

So, yes, Wilson had done this three times before, and yes, Ileana probably was too young for him and, yes, it was probably doomed to fail, but she was damn well going to stand here and look like she thought it was for the best and House was going to echo that sentiment if it killed him. Cuddy shifted her weight and let House’s cane shift in her grip so that it thumped softly against the carpeted floor. House dropped his gaze to it and back to her. She arched a brow at him and he scowled at her. She smirked back.

Due to special request of the groom, the maid of honour was to hold onto the best man’s cane to make sure that aforementioned best man didn’t proclaim loudly to the congregation that weddings were farcical, hobble out of the church and disappear off to the nearest bar.

The maid of honour had agreed to this on the proviso that she was allowed to wallop the best man with his cane if he even looked like he was about to cause trouble.

So far, the arrangement was proving to work rather well. That, and she had his stash of vicodin down the front of her sky blue dress.

She supposed the wedding had actually turned out quite tasteful, considering how…insipid Ileana could be about these things. Lots of white and blue and the bridesmaid’s dresses were simple silk sheathes instead of horrific blue meringues that she had been intent on to start off with. Pretty flowers everywhere, big hats, lots of make up and not a dry eye in the place. Very nice.

Very boring.

Cuddy had to admit that she had lost her taste for weddings recently. It was all very nice and all. Promising to stay together until death did they part, through sickness and health and all that crap but, call her a cynic, she had become rather disillusioned with the whole process.

“You may kiss the bride.”

Cuddy shook herself back to the real world and pasted a smile on her face as she took in the sight of one of her employees pressing a chaste kiss on the lips of her little sister. The urge to slap him was still there but she was getting better at restraining it.

The happy couple turned to her with such dazzling smiles of marital bliss that she was about ready to hurl, but Cuddy managed to grin her way through it and not show how green she was feeling inside. They bustled past her and down the church aisle to get into the car to head off to the hotel where the reception was.

On the bright side, Cuddy supposed she could just get roaring drunk and have a good time and not think about how she was really feeling quite lonely right now.

That’s right, feeling a bit down so pour a gallon or three of depressant down her throat. That’ll fix everything.

“Hey, little help?”

Cuddy turned, halfway down the steps to the main aisle of the church and saw House standing somewhat awkwardly on the dais. She smirked and sashayed back up to him to offer him her arm. He arched a brow at her.

“What? I’m keeping your pimp stick. I don’t want to pass up the opportunity to beat you about the head with it when you finally give in to your baser nature.” She told him cheerfully and helped him down the five steps to the main floor of the church.

“It’s not a pimp stick.” He told her archly and she laughed at him. He turned to her suddenly. “Why are you so miserable?”

She faltered slightly at that, but rallied her smile admirably. “I’m not miserable, it’s a wedding. You’re not allowed to be miserable.” She tried to laugh it off, but he was having none of it.

The last few months had been…difficult for her, to say the least. First there had been the impromptu arrival of her baby sister who had proclaimed art school was not her thing and she needed to ‘find herself’, then there had been the involvement of the ever helpful Wilson and his cry-proof shoulder. Ileana had used it shamelessly after big bad sister had kicked her out the door and told her to quit sponging and get a job. Then there had been alcohol and…well, Cuddy tried not to think about the technicalities behind their relationship.

However, the end product had been a relationship with a man that was nearly twice her age, divorced several times over and who would probably break her heart into a million pieces.

Cuddy had been wrestling with her bigger-sister-over-protective instincts and not having too good a time of it. She knew Ileana, she knew Wilson and she had this awful feeling that it was all going to go horribly wrong.

But her sister was a grown up and capable of making her own decisions.

Time to let go. Continue being the ‘spinster’ older sister.

“And yet, you still are. Thinking about all the things you want but don’t have?” There was a hint of mockery to his tone but there was definitely something serious holding his voice up. They reached the doors of the church arm in arm and watched the massive crowd surrounded the ‘getaway car’ that House had taken upon himself to decorate with Cuddy’s most expensive lipstick.

“Nope. Given up on that.” She didn’t look at him as she said it and spoke quickly so that she almost sounded like she meant it. “Besides, today isn’t about me. It’s about Ileana.”

“Hmm, baby of the family and given everything she wanted since birth, yes, I can see why we must pay more attention to her.”

“You are such an only child.” She informed him.

“I was never spoiled like she is. You’re coming apart at the seams and her heads so far up her ass that she can’t even see it.” He practically growled and Cuddy blinked up at him.

“You make me sound like some emotionally out-of-control wreck!” She glared at him. “And I’m the big sister, it’s my job to look after her, not the other way around.”

He looked down at her. “Then who looks out for you?”

She blinked at that. At the soft tone of his voice. It was a new sound that she hadn’t realised he could make. Yes, the last few months had been difficult for her but House had been there for her in a way that she hadn’t thought he was capable of.

He had been her friend.

She looked back out to the road and saw the wedding party dissipating. Heading for the hotel to have a good party to celebrate the last marriage in the family. Cuddy had given a particularly good wince upon hearing her mother refer to the occasion as such.

“I’m a survivor. I look after myself.” She said it quietly as she led him down the steps and into the waiting car. They had the limo to themselves and House fidgeted with buttons and the like and eventually succeeded in putting up the partition between them and the driver. Cuddy fidgeted with his cane.

“How far to the reception?”

“About twenty minutes.” She fidgeted with his cane some more and then sat back into the plush leather seats. She hadn’t realised he was sitting so close to her until his tux jacket sleeve brushed her shoulders. He was stretched with his arm along the back of the bench seat, staring out the window. The fingers fidgeting with her hair belied his obliviousness of her proximity though.

He turned to her suddenly. “You know it’s traditional for the best man and the maid of honour to have a fling.”

“It is not.” She told him as she let her head rest against his shoulder. He ducked his head slightly to look at her.

“Sure it is. Why do you think I took this job?” He grinned at her and she had to work at not smiling back.

“Because I was given free rein to get ‘administrative’ with you when you misbehave?”

“Hmm.” He gave a half answer as his hand went to his leg and massaged it absently. Cuddy frowned and reached down the front of her bodice, extracting the small orange bottle with a rattle. He whipped his head around and stared at her offering the pills to him.

“You know, I’ve never actually been jealous of those things before.”

She smirked. “Take a damn pill.” She ordered and stretched to the small fridge to extract some mineral water to wash it down with. He glared at this ‘mothering’ of him but she foisted it on him anyway. If she was going to be keeping the damn things for him, he would take them as she said to.

“Seriously, what else have you got down there?” He made a show of reaching over to tug at the front of her dress and try to look down it. She smacked his hand away with the silver crook of his dress cane and he scowled at her. “Spoilsport.”

“Infant.” She shot back and he smirked at her grin. At least he’d got her smiling again.

“Glad to see the smile.” He muttered so low that she almost didn’t hear it. His hand rested warm on her shoulder and his thumb circled against her skin as he continued to look out at the passing scenery.

“I’ve missed this.” She admitted quietly.

“What? Driving about in the back of a limo with a cripple? Well, that’s enough about your social life.”

She elbowed him sharply in the ribs. “I’ve missed you being my friend, you jerk.”

“I can feel the love.” He mock wheezed but smiled at her and kept his arm where it was. “And I’ve always been your friend.”

“It’s been a bit difficult to tell for a few years.” She murmured and felt him shift uncomfortably against her.

“I suppose. I’ve never pretended to be a nice guy.”

“I know, nice guys are boring. That’s why it’s my sister that’s marrying Wilson.”

“You wanted to marry Wilson?” He stared at her. She looked up at him on a frown.

“Don’t be stupid. My sister likes nice guys, I don’t. That was my point.” She smirked at him. “You were worried.”

“I was not.” He protested.

“You were too.” She laughed gleefully. “You haven’t worried about me since college.”

“Have…too? I haven’t done a lot of things since college.” He tried to cover his confusion.

She ginned at him. “Like what?”

His eyes tracked over her in that silky sheath of a dress and a grin kicked his lips. “You know what.”

She looked away from him hurriedly. “A lot’s changed since then.”

“True, you’ve filled out a lot since then.” He grinned at her.

“Not funny.”

“Lost your sense of humour too.” He pointed out and she scowled at him. “Some things stay the same.” His finger traced the line of her jaw.

“House…”

“What?” He leant down to her, their mouths a breath apart.

“We shouldn’t…”

“Shouldn’t what?” His lips brushed hers.

“It was a…”

“It wasn’t a mistake.” He told her and brushed her lips again.

Maybe it was the champagne she’d had for breakfast. Maybe it was the atmosphere of weddings that still got to her just a little bit. Maybe it was just the fact that she was tired of being alone and he was there. Either way, her fingers ended up tangled in his hair and her mouth pressed under his in a hot needy kiss that he returned with equal fervour.

His broad strong hands slid around her waist and she could feel his heat through the thin fabric of her dress. His cane clattered to the carpeted floor and out of her hand as she slid it around his neck to pull him closer. His mouth moved expertly over hers, his tongue slid inside her mouth and had her shivering with sensation as his hand slid down over her throat and over the curve of her breast. Her back arched, pressing herself into his caress with a small moan.

His hand continued down, over the curve of her hip and over the sleek lines of her legs to grip her thigh and tug her over his lap. The sound of their breathing was harsh in the interior of the limo. The air conditioning was either malfunctioning or the heat they were both producing was just getting hotter and hotter. Cuddy felt like she couldn’t breathe properly, her skin practically hummed for him and her insides quivered in anticipation of what he was going to do next.

She settled delicately over him, her fingers digging into his shoulders as his fingers anchored in her hair and kept her mouth captured by his. Her palms slid down over the silky front of his tuxedo jacket and she plucked the buttons open expertly before smoothing it back and away from his chest.

She jumped as a knock hammered against the window.

“You guys okay in there?”

She was going to kill Wilson. Cuddy scowled and snatched up House’s cane, she threw open the door and climbed elegantly out of the car so quickly that Wilson wouldn’t have guessed that she had just been sitting on his best friend’s lap. Cuddy opened her mouth to say something – anything- to him that might communicate how pissed she was with him at this exact moment in time, but nothing seemed to quite do it. She settled for shoving the cane against his chest with a trifle more force than was strictly necessary and then sweeping past him to scale the steps of the King’s Reach hotel. She could hear House getting out of the limo but she didn’t look back.

God, what had she done?

She wasn’t supposed to get frisky with an employee, let alone one like House. Good God, he was going to blackmail her with this for the rest of her natural life. Her feet carried her right through the foyer, past the function suite that was filled with balloons and proclamations on banners for the happy couple. Cuddy’s chest heaved as the streamer strewn walls suddenly seemed to be closing in on her. She went straight through the suite and right out the French doors, her heels clattering against the patio as she gathered her skirt in one hand and tripped down the steps to crunch her way across the gravel. She pulled in great lungfuls of the early afternoon air. It was balmy and seemed too thick to breathe properly with. She kept going, kept walking, kept moving away from…she didn’t even know what she was running from anymore.

Seemed like she’d been running away from everything her entire life. She had left her family to go to med school in Michigan. She had run from House when he had begun to matter too much to her by taking a job on the opposite side of the country from him. She had run away from any kind of personal life she might have had by burying herself in work.

She hated to be alone but it was really her own fault. Anyone she hadn’t pushed away she had run from. Anything that had mattered she had abandoned in case it might hurt her.

Cuddy finally stopped in the maze. Tall hedges surrounded her on all sides and she was pretty sure that she had no idea where she was. Well, at least this was an excuse. She couldn’t attend the reception because she was lost in the garden maze. A smile tugged at her lips at the thought of the expression her mother would pull at such a thing. She was so tired of running. She needed to just stop. Be herself. Finding someone to be herself with would be even better but she was willing to take her time. She turned and saw House straddling the end of the low stone bench that was in a leafy alcove in the maze. His cane bouncing back and forth between his palms. She supposed she must have been aware of him following her and had just chosen not to acknowledge it.

Well, she had to start somewhere.

She stalked over to him, the gravel crunching under her expensive shoes and the train of her dress swishing over it. He looked up at her as she reached out and ran her fingers over the rough scruff on his jaw that he had refused to shave, even for his best friend’s wedding. She thought about saying something, but what could she say that he didn’t already know? She bent slowly and kissed him softly, his lips were so warm beneath hers and softer than she thought they would be.

He pulled her down and she went willingly, straddling both him and the bench easily. He growled low against her mouth as she rolled her hips against his. The branding heat of his arousal intense even through the combined layers of their clothing. Her arms wound themselves around his neck as she kissed him harder. She needed to feel this. It needed to feel real. His black bowtie fell to the gravel as she twisted away with expert fingers. The crisp white shirt parted over tanned skin as she pulled it apart gently.

“Lisa…” His voice was harsh against the lazy buzz of fat bumble bees sniffing at the honeysuckle and the sharper trill of birds in the trees not far off. She loved the half groan that crept into his baritone. Groaning for her. The skirt of her dress bunched under his fingers as he dragged it up over her legs and smoothed his hot hands over her sensitive skin. She gasped at the contact and writhed over him. His hand at her waist stilled her somewhat. “You’re not wearing underwear?” His voice was incredulous as his fingers met nothing but wet feminine heat. She chuckled throatily as she arched against his hand.

“I never wear underwear with formal clothes, didn’t you know that?” Her grin was wicked as he groaned.

“You mean, all those charity functions where you trawled for donors…?”

“Not a stitch on under my dress.” She grinned at him and kissed him again. “Now shush, I don’t want to talk about that.” She informed him and went to work on his slacks. He groaned as her hands slid inside and wrapped around him. Breath hissed out between clenched teeth as his hips jerked involuntarily.

“Now.” He demanded and she laughed as her heels grated against the gravel. Her long legs flexed and she sank slowly down over him. Savouring every red hot inch as he slid inside her. Her head fell back and his dipped forward, his forehead resting against her collar bone as he panted and tried vainly for control. He kissed her throat and then lower as he pulled the bodice of her dress away from her curves. His tongue swept over her skin and had her gasping, her hips twisting delightfully as she rode him slowly and sweetly. She anchored herself with one hand on his shoulder and the other buried in his hair.

“You feel so good.” She told him breathlessly while his hand slid under her skirt and his thumb rolled over her clit in a shocking pressure that had her gasping and jerking in his arms. She moaned and laughed softly as he shushed her.

“Don’t want the whole wedding party out here, do we?”

Lisa couldn’t help but grin at the thought that produced. Her mother was already the conniption queen, what would happen if she saw her daughter getting hot and heavy with the big bad best man?

Oh, who the hell cared?

Lisa’s back arched and she bit her lip against the scream that was rising in her throat. Greg, who seemed to sense her lack of control, buried his hand in her hair and anchored her mouth against his as she screamed against his lips and went flying over the edge into bliss. He shivered violently under her as he wasn’t far behind and they both sat panting afterwards.

“That was…worth the wait.” He finally decided on as he stroked her back and zipped her dress back up, rearranging it so it didn’t look like she’d just had a right good tumbling.

“Hmm?”

“Oh, come on, you didn’t think I just wanted to be friends did you?”

Her head lifted and a cute little frown marred her features. “What?”

“In college, I wanted you for myself, that’s why I ‘worried’ about you…and why any guy you went out with rarely managed to call for a second date.”

She slapped his shoulder. “Why didn’t you say anything, you idiot!” She pouted at him. “I’d have had you in a second.” She grinned then and pressed a kiss to his lips. Too deeply immersed in the post coital bliss to care that he’d just finally managed to get his finger out and bed her. Twice in two decades, talk about taking it slow. She even smiled as she rested her head against his shoulder. She could hear the dull roar of a party not that far off. “We should get back.” She said and he grumbled.

“Quite happy where I am, thanks.” He told her and tightened his arms around her waist.

“Where’s the pimp stick? I’m going to hit you with it.”

“Such abuse, can’t base a relationship on trauma, you know.”

“We’ll just have to base it on sex then.” She said glibly and levered herself away from him regretfully, not missing the chance to help him rearrange himself back into his trousers.

“Keep that up and I’m taking you straight to your hotel room.” He growled at her and she smirked up at him.

“Promises, promises.” She pulled him to his feet, fixed his hair as best she could and even managed to straighten his shirt collar, but he point blank refused to put the bow tie back on. She shrugged and stowed it in his pocket instead.

“Your mom likes me, you know.” He told her and she looked up at him in silent question. He had an arm wrapped around her shoulders, and she had hers around his waist. “She does, she thinks I’m ‘dapper’.” He grinned at this rating and Lisa couldn’t help but chuckle. Her smile faltered slightly.

“Hey, I just went to a lot of effort to get rid of the miserable face, I think some post coital grinning is in order.” He informed her.

“I was just wondering…are you something else I have to survive?”

He was quiet a moment. “No…I’m here to make sure you’re not alone anymore.” He teased her and let his forehead rest briefly against hers.

“I can live with that.” They were heading slowly up the steps and back to the French doors that lead to the party. “You realise that when Daddy sees you – us - he’s going to get the shotgun out again.”

“I didn’t think they still did that, but I guess your dad’s a traditional type.” He grinned a little. “Still wish I had gotten a Polaroid of Wilson’s expression though.” He looked down at her with a wicked grin. “Besides, you’re too old to get married.”

“Cretin.” She told him and he laughed.

“Okay, the day I get married to you is the day flowers fall from the sky.” He informed her as they meandered back into the party.

House was one of the few people that didn’t laugh as the bridal bouquet fell through the air…and landed in his hands.