House was vaguely aware that he was getting lost in the kiss, leaning into Foreman's touches, but Foreman's voice, and the implication of his words, stunned House into full awareness. He raised his head to stare at Foreman's face, catching the sight of Foreman's throat working around a swallow. The tiny action confirmed any suspicions that House had about the meaning behind Foreman's blurted statement, and House felt his anticipation skyrocket, his head fogging with desire as he let Foreman push his jacket and button-down onto the floor. In his brain, Foreman's words began to morph. You have to stop wearing layers. You have to stop wearing layers so it's easier for me to get all your clothes off. I want this off. I want this off because I want you. Next time I'll take it off you faster if you don't wear so many damn layers. He hated that his mind went there, filled in those blanks. He tried not to think too much about what Foreman meant but, as he raised his arms to let Foreman lift his shirt over his head, he couldn't help the flooding desire to hear what else Foreman wanted. Jesus, was he really that needy?
He closed his eyes, consciously trying to counteract his own reactions to Foreman, the pathetic neediness that seemed so obvious to himself, and said, "Kind of early to start making assumptions about repeat performances." He hoped he sounded less desperate than he felt, already wanting a repeat performance himself.
Foreman's implied admission urged him on, and he brought his mouth down to Foreman's again, his hands moving to Foreman's hips to hold himself steady. The fact that Foreman had accidentally let slip that he had no real intention of walking away from him, or pushing him away, that he wanted House around in the future, encouraged House enough to reciprocate, gathering handfuls of Foreman's shirt and pulling it up, out of Foreman's pants. He pushed his hands underneath, like he'd wanted before, and lightly spread his fingers over Foreman's sides. He could feel the warmth of Foreman's skin, could feel Foreman's ribcage expand with his breaths as he kissed him; it made his own breaths come faster, made him kiss a little harder, made him tighten his hands on Foreman's body without fully realizing it, negating all his previous efforts to keep his reactions under control and restrained. Little things were beginning to give him away, and House knew it was only a matter of time before big things gave him away, so he pulled back, out of the kiss, and tried to raise his guard back up. He furiously worked at the buttons of Foreman's shirt, hoping Foreman wouldn't catch on to the shift in his mood and try to tear his guard back down again.
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timeasmymeasure
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Date: 2008-12-08 09:21 pm (UTC)He closed his eyes, consciously trying to counteract his own reactions to Foreman, the pathetic neediness that seemed so obvious to himself, and said, "Kind of early to start making assumptions about repeat performances." He hoped he sounded less desperate than he felt, already wanting a repeat performance himself.
Foreman's implied admission urged him on, and he brought his mouth down to Foreman's again, his hands moving to Foreman's hips to hold himself steady. The fact that Foreman had accidentally let slip that he had no real intention of walking away from him, or pushing him away, that he wanted House around in the future, encouraged House enough to reciprocate, gathering handfuls of Foreman's shirt and pulling it up, out of Foreman's pants. He pushed his hands underneath, like he'd wanted before, and lightly spread his fingers over Foreman's sides. He could feel the warmth of Foreman's skin, could feel Foreman's ribcage expand with his breaths as he kissed him; it made his own breaths come faster, made him kiss a little harder, made him tighten his hands on Foreman's body without fully realizing it, negating all his previous efforts to keep his reactions under control and restrained. Little things were beginning to give him away, and House knew it was only a matter of time before big things gave him away, so he pulled back, out of the kiss, and tried to raise his guard back up. He furiously worked at the buttons of Foreman's shirt, hoping Foreman wouldn't catch on to the shift in his mood and try to tear his guard back down again.