Foreman opened his mouth, let House explore as much as he wanted. The kiss was still soft, slow, but deeper. It was so different from the pushy, angry urgency of Saturday night. Then, House had barely let Foreman touch him without a fight, all his obnoxious defiance at the forefront. Foreman had felt driven, as if his chance would have been snatched away from him if he hadn't met House's challenge. House hadn't given up, not until Foreman restrained him on the bed and fucked him. House had kissed him, then, like he was now, more open and softer even as Foreman thrust into him. He'd let himself open up--or Foreman had forced him to. It seemed as though House had reached that point far sooner this time, and it was exhilarating to feel it. House had actually let his cane behind, stepping forward from the door so that Foreman would be his only prop if he needed one. It felt like House was waiting for something, for some signal, to start touching Foreman back, but he'd gotten rid of his coat, and that was enough for now. Slow was good, as long as House was letting him lead the way, letting Foreman taste his mouth while the heated sensation moved through his body. Slow was better than he ever could have imagined.
Foreman spread his palms against House's stomach, over his hips, and then moved up to his chest. He wanted to get House's shirt off, forgetting for now about his own. There would be plenty of times for House to be contrary, to turn the sex into an argument, for Foreman to wrestle him down. Tonight Foreman was happy just to keep kissing. House's body was warm under his hands and when Foreman shifted his weight in tiny increments, he could feel House's erection low against his stomach. The light, brushing touches, almost accidental every time they happened, felt astonishingly powerful, so fucking good. God, they had to get to the bed, and soon. Foreman wanted House horizontal, wanted to press into him while they just kept on kissing, wanted to get all these goddamn clothes out of the way.
Foreman worked a bit harder at House's buttons, finally breaking the kiss so that he could see what he was doing. He paused, though, when he realized what he'd been thinking. Plenty of times. As if they'd agreed on the future just because Foreman had managed to drag House here tonight. He hadn't forgotten their argument, but it had taken a backseat to his horniness. Which was stupid. Too late now to do anything about it, and he wasn't going to stop. House's shirt was hanging open, and Foreman leaned in to kiss him again, still delicately, because he needed to confirm to himself that House really was being this unguarded. The kiss was almost a question, meeting House's tongue and searching out all the places that had evoked a reaction before. Sweeping his hands up House's body, Foreman pushed his shirt off, the suit jacket going with it, leaving just the t-shirt. "You have to stop wearing layers," he muttered, almost before he realized what he was saying. Pretty much admitting that he wanted this again, that he wanted easier access. He swallowed, but tried not to let it show, tugging at the hem of House's t-shirt impatiently. If House really was waiting for Foreman to do something before reciprocating, then maybe it was time to step up the challenge. "I want this off."
![[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: 2008-12-08 08:11 pm (UTC)Foreman spread his palms against House's stomach, over his hips, and then moved up to his chest. He wanted to get House's shirt off, forgetting for now about his own. There would be plenty of times for House to be contrary, to turn the sex into an argument, for Foreman to wrestle him down. Tonight Foreman was happy just to keep kissing. House's body was warm under his hands and when Foreman shifted his weight in tiny increments, he could feel House's erection low against his stomach. The light, brushing touches, almost accidental every time they happened, felt astonishingly powerful, so fucking good. God, they had to get to the bed, and soon. Foreman wanted House horizontal, wanted to press into him while they just kept on kissing, wanted to get all these goddamn clothes out of the way.
Foreman worked a bit harder at House's buttons, finally breaking the kiss so that he could see what he was doing. He paused, though, when he realized what he'd been thinking. Plenty of times. As if they'd agreed on the future just because Foreman had managed to drag House here tonight. He hadn't forgotten their argument, but it had taken a backseat to his horniness. Which was stupid. Too late now to do anything about it, and he wasn't going to stop. House's shirt was hanging open, and Foreman leaned in to kiss him again, still delicately, because he needed to confirm to himself that House really was being this unguarded. The kiss was almost a question, meeting House's tongue and searching out all the places that had evoked a reaction before. Sweeping his hands up House's body, Foreman pushed his shirt off, the suit jacket going with it, leaving just the t-shirt. "You have to stop wearing layers," he muttered, almost before he realized what he was saying. Pretty much admitting that he wanted this again, that he wanted easier access. He swallowed, but tried not to let it show, tugging at the hem of House's t-shirt impatiently. If House really was waiting for Foreman to do something before reciprocating, then maybe it was time to step up the challenge. "I want this off."