Oh, God. Foreman had meant the kiss to be nothing more than a test, thinking that House would blow right past the tantalizing, inquisitive press of lips and demand that Foreman kiss him harder, thorough and demanding the way he had in House's office. Thoughts of whether or not it would mean too much, be too soon, screw him over to kiss like this, all of them disappeared. The kiss caught him and left him dizzy, until he was lost in it. Every shift of lips, every insignificant movement, became the only thing he could think about. He kissed House's lower lip, sucking on it lightly, before sliding his tongue against House's, the sensation flooding his body. Foreman had no idea how much time was passing. It felt like it was rushing by while they were barely moving. He felt no sense of needing to hurry. He wanted this to last, suddenly, his impatience draining away even though he was more aroused than ever. Foreman wanted to memorize the exact level of pressure and tentative exploration that made House moan; he didn't want to move any more than that.

It seemed a hell of a lot less important to pin House back. Foreman couldn't even remember why he'd tried. He let go of House's wrist and moved his hand up his arm, over the coat, gripping his shoulder for a moment before dipping his fingers inside House's collar. He traced his fingertips up House's neck, brushing just behind his ear, then back down under his shirt to dig his fingers into House's trapezius muscle, massaging lightly. Shifting half a step to the right, Foreman finally leaned in the rest of the way, letting House's left leg press between his, nudging his erection against House's thigh. God, it felt so good. "Oh, fuck," he whispered, breaking the kiss at last, gasping for air before he quickly met House's lips again. A deep, tight groan vibrated in his chest as he swayed forward again, pushing his hips forward as lightly as he'd been kissing House.