House noticed Foreman's struggle with his key ring. He would have been much more amused if he wasn't so turned on, so anxious to get into Foreman's apartment. In private. Once they were inside, he ignored Foreman's words, not paying much attention. His action, however, that sudden, hard grip on his wrist caught his attention fully, and House darted his eyes to Foreman's as he was backed against the door, trapped there. His lips were parted, taking in air through his mouth, faster than before. He tried to predict what Foreman would do--lean into him, push him against the door, and kiss him hard.
When Foreman angled his head and kissed him, House discovered that he was so, so wrong, and he let his eyes drift closed and inhaled a quiet breath, holding it as Foreman's tongue slid across his lip. It was barely a kiss, more like an exploratory touch--as test--as they breathed the same charged, hot air. House held his whole body still, allowing Foreman to keep him against the door, keep him steady and balanced, more than what he seemed capable of doing for himself at the moment. His tongue crept past his lips, slow and almost cautious, and, when it touched the tip of Foreman's, the sensation nearly jolted him, forced a tiny moan into the air between them. God, he hadn't been kissed like this in--fuck, a long time. This slowly, softly, and he had never imagined that Foreman would have been the person to kiss him like this; the idea was ridiculous. The reality, on the other hand, was fucking mind-blowing. It made him want to push away from the door and into Foreman, feel proof that this was as arousing for Foreman as it was for him. His left hand flexed against the door, the other around his cane, but, despite the urge to put his hands all over Foreman, he let Foreman lead, content enough to let the kiss drag on as long as Foreman let it.
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timeasmymeasure
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Date: 2008-12-07 11:57 pm (UTC)When Foreman angled his head and kissed him, House discovered that he was so, so wrong, and he let his eyes drift closed and inhaled a quiet breath, holding it as Foreman's tongue slid across his lip. It was barely a kiss, more like an exploratory touch--as test--as they breathed the same charged, hot air. House held his whole body still, allowing Foreman to keep him against the door, keep him steady and balanced, more than what he seemed capable of doing for himself at the moment. His tongue crept past his lips, slow and almost cautious, and, when it touched the tip of Foreman's, the sensation nearly jolted him, forced a tiny moan into the air between them. God, he hadn't been kissed like this in--fuck, a long time. This slowly, softly, and he had never imagined that Foreman would have been the person to kiss him like this; the idea was ridiculous. The reality, on the other hand, was fucking mind-blowing. It made him want to push away from the door and into Foreman, feel proof that this was as arousing for Foreman as it was for him. His left hand flexed against the door, the other around his cane, but, despite the urge to put his hands all over Foreman, he let Foreman lead, content enough to let the kiss drag on as long as Foreman let it.