House was relieved that Foreman hadn't been waiting for him to ask that Foreman roll off of him, at least far enough to give him some room, and he drew a slow, deep breath--God, it felt like the first full breath he'd taken in hours--feeling the expansion of his body as the air filled his lungs. Regular, normal feeling started to seep back into his body, slowly replacing the contentment of a moment ago. His leg began to ache, dull for now, by his standards, and, as more time passed, he wished Foreman would pull out of him. He needed to move, needed his Vicodin before the ache flared into searing, hot bolts of pain. As he opened his mouth, about to snap at Foreman to get his dick out of his ass, Foreman eased away and slowly withdrew, sending a rush of cool air against his back, the heat of Foreman's body gone. House shivered, tempted to pull a couple pillows closer, steal all of the blankets to get warm again. But he'd wait; he had to clean himself up, grab a couple Vicodin to let him fall asleep.
He'd already decided he wasn't dragging himself back to his apartment, that he'd be spending the night in Foreman's bed whether Foreman liked it or not. He wasn't going to ask. Better to talk about as little as possible at this point. He just wanted to get the hell to sleep while he was still feeling the lazy, drowsy effects of a half-day's worth of--House had to admit--pretty mind-blowing sex. It had left his muscles loose, tired, and he realized just how tired when he slowly shifted away from Foreman, sitting up and reaching for his pills, taking them with him as he stood and made his way into the bathroom.
He found a washcloth in the bathroom, the one he'd used for his shower, and cleaned himself up. Downing a couple Vicodin, he took a quick look around for a spare toothbrush and wasn't surprised when he found one. Once he was finished--cleaned up, bladder empty, pain at bay, teeth brushed--he set the spare brush on the counter, a folded tissue keeping it off the surface. He was sure it was clean--immaculate like every other surface in the house, except for Foreman's bedsheets, he thought with a grin--but he set it on the tissue anyway before heading back out to the bedroom and collapsing back on the bed. He settled on his left side, pressure off his right, and pulled up the covers, his back to Foreman, refusing to say anything, hoping he could just fall asleep.
![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png){kind=small}
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
timeasmymeasure
no subject
Date: 2009-01-06 08:32 am (UTC)He'd already decided he wasn't dragging himself back to his apartment, that he'd be spending the night in Foreman's bed whether Foreman liked it or not. He wasn't going to ask. Better to talk about as little as possible at this point. He just wanted to get the hell to sleep while he was still feeling the lazy, drowsy effects of a half-day's worth of--House had to admit--pretty mind-blowing sex. It had left his muscles loose, tired, and he realized just how tired when he slowly shifted away from Foreman, sitting up and reaching for his pills, taking them with him as he stood and made his way into the bathroom.
He found a washcloth in the bathroom, the one he'd used for his shower, and cleaned himself up. Downing a couple Vicodin, he took a quick look around for a spare toothbrush and wasn't surprised when he found one. Once he was finished--cleaned up, bladder empty, pain at bay, teeth brushed--he set the spare brush on the counter, a folded tissue keeping it off the surface. He was sure it was clean--immaculate like every other surface in the house, except for Foreman's bedsheets, he thought with a grin--but he set it on the tissue anyway before heading back out to the bedroom and collapsing back on the bed. He settled on his left side, pressure off his right, and pulled up the covers, his back to Foreman, refusing to say anything, hoping he could just fall asleep.