Foreman glanced over his shoulder as House grabbed his backpack. He dismissed a brief flash of strangeness at seeing House approaching him as if this was an everyday occurrence. Last time he'd been drunk enough that he hadn't even stopped to think at this point. Alcohol left him warm and high on life, and he hadn't even hesitated to kiss House in the doorway. God, they'd been all over each other, here and in the lobby. Foreman had practically had his hand on House's dick, rubbing him through his jeans. That had been stupidly, ridiculously, embarrassingly hot, and Foreman swallowed hard. Fuck, he was going to get a hard-on right here as long as those images were playing through his mind. House's words diverted his attention, thankfully, though not by much. Yeah, he was horny, and not the least interested in food at the moment.
"Horny, right," he said, a dutiful student accepting a correction. Foreman unlocked the front door and pulled it open. He narrowed his eyes as if he was deep in thought, and rephrased. "I think what I meant was, I know what I want to eat." He pressed his lips together to hide his smirk. Sometimes, House could just be so easy to discomfit, and Foreman wanted to know exactly how much he could say to get House following his train of thought. That line, between urging House forward and going so far that his words raised all of House's bullshit barriers, was a fine one, and Foreman was definitely interested in finding out where it was drawn.
Foreman sauntered across the lobby and pressed the call button. Another elevator ride. That made...four?...tonight, and Foreman's imagination, his memories of Saturday night, had him hoping that nobody else got on between the lobby and his floor, because he wanted to shove House into a hard surface again and show him the part of tonight that he definitely wasn't going to regret. The rest--yeah, Foreman wouldn't mind feeding House, and depending on how things went, having him around after could either work out or be a disaster. He couldn't be bothered to worry; when the elevator arrived, Foreman raised his eyebrow at House and got on, leaning against the back wall and sliding his hands out along the railing, taking up as much space as he possibly could, and pretty much issuing a gold-leaf invitation with his body.
![[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: 2008-12-07 07:39 am (UTC)"Horny, right," he said, a dutiful student accepting a correction. Foreman unlocked the front door and pulled it open. He narrowed his eyes as if he was deep in thought, and rephrased. "I think what I meant was, I know what I want to eat." He pressed his lips together to hide his smirk. Sometimes, House could just be so easy to discomfit, and Foreman wanted to know exactly how much he could say to get House following his train of thought. That line, between urging House forward and going so far that his words raised all of House's bullshit barriers, was a fine one, and Foreman was definitely interested in finding out where it was drawn.
Foreman sauntered across the lobby and pressed the call button. Another elevator ride. That made...four?...tonight, and Foreman's imagination, his memories of Saturday night, had him hoping that nobody else got on between the lobby and his floor, because he wanted to shove House into a hard surface again and show him the part of tonight that he definitely wasn't going to regret. The rest--yeah, Foreman wouldn't mind feeding House, and depending on how things went, having him around after could either work out or be a disaster. He couldn't be bothered to worry; when the elevator arrived, Foreman raised his eyebrow at House and got on, leaning against the back wall and sliding his hands out along the railing, taking up as much space as he possibly could, and pretty much issuing a gold-leaf invitation with his body.