"That's harsh, coming from you," Foreman said. House wouldn't know subtle if it swung a two-by-four at his head. "Don't worry, I can be subtle." He saw a clear separation between his job and his personal life. The fact that he was with House tended to blur his lines, but Foreman still felt that what happened during work hours and what happened after shouldn't be brought together. At work he was subtle; professional, and yeah, as he'd heard from Chase more than once, a little uptight. When he was with someone, though, he could afford to be more playful. He had no idea what House would think of that, or whether how he was acting now would bleed over into his work life if he became too lazy or complacent about his barriers. But he wasn't going to pretend that he wasn't horny, that he wasn't having a good time right now poking holes in House's control.
He only tilted his head at House when he imitated his stance, even though his body raged at him that this was the perfect opportunity to corner him, crowd him, shove his body against House's until he could feel whether House was getting as aroused as he was. Foreman sucked back a quick and, he hoped, quiet breath. His heart was beating too fast, and he wondered if House's pulse was thundering just as hard. Their hands were nearly touching on the railing. Foreman lifted his hand just enough to skim his fingertips across House's wrist, brushing up the inside of his forearm under his coat sleeve. That tiny, ghosting touch seemed to fire his nerves even more than a wrestling bout against the wall of the elevator would have. He finally settled his fingers against House's radial pulse, finding it fast and strong. "I can do subtle," he repeated quietly. The idea that they were so close to his apartment, to having a solid, lockable door between them and the world, seemed to fill the air around them, making it hard to get a full breath. Fuck, he was getting hard, and he hadn't even been touched, or kissed House since the office. Foreman had no idea where this came from, unless it was knowing that he could probably make House come in under ten minutes, and then spend as much time as he wanted enjoying House's post-orgasm mellow while getting off himself. Foreman grinned, although he didn't bother directing his smile at House; he was watching the elevator doors. The moment they opened he pushed off the wall and strode for his apartment door. "And," he said over his shoulder, "I do know the difference." Once they were inside, "subtle" was going to be told very firmly to shut the fuck up and learn something.
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He only tilted his head at House when he imitated his stance, even though his body raged at him that this was the perfect opportunity to corner him, crowd him, shove his body against House's until he could feel whether House was getting as aroused as he was. Foreman sucked back a quick and, he hoped, quiet breath. His heart was beating too fast, and he wondered if House's pulse was thundering just as hard. Their hands were nearly touching on the railing. Foreman lifted his hand just enough to skim his fingertips across House's wrist, brushing up the inside of his forearm under his coat sleeve. That tiny, ghosting touch seemed to fire his nerves even more than a wrestling bout against the wall of the elevator would have. He finally settled his fingers against House's radial pulse, finding it fast and strong. "I can do subtle," he repeated quietly. The idea that they were so close to his apartment, to having a solid, lockable door between them and the world, seemed to fill the air around them, making it hard to get a full breath. Fuck, he was getting hard, and he hadn't even been touched, or kissed House since the office. Foreman had no idea where this came from, unless it was knowing that he could probably make House come in under ten minutes, and then spend as much time as he wanted enjoying House's post-orgasm mellow while getting off himself. Foreman grinned, although he didn't bother directing his smile at House; he was watching the elevator doors. The moment they opened he pushed off the wall and strode for his apartment door. "And," he said over his shoulder, "I do know the difference." Once they were inside, "subtle" was going to be told very firmly to shut the fuck up and learn something.