Even though House met the kiss, returned it, Foreman wasn't certain if he'd gotten the message across, made himself clear. If House thought one kiss would be enough to convince him, then Foreman would still be tossing him out on his ass. This was a two-player game. He was determined to hold on to his anger, but when House started kissing his neck, his jaw, Foreman's mouth opened on a gasp without his permission. Breathing was becoming an issue, but Foreman wanted nothing more right now than to take in the hot, tickling sensation of House's mouth moving across his skin, the rasp of his beard. Foreman felt feverish as the heat of House's tongue was quickly replaced by cool air, making him shiver. It wasn't enough--it wasn't reassurance--but it felt damn good, and he let House take his time, not demanding an answer. He waited until House finally pulled back and faced him, his face still wearing that uncertain, wary look. Foreman had wanted him to open up--he'd wanted to force House to this, make him honest--but it scared the hell out of him to actually see it. What the hell were they doing?
Whatever it was, all his worries about it disappeared when House spoke, the sound of his voice more convincing than any look on his face. Foreman let out a short, shuddery sigh when House squeezed him. He'd lost some of his erection, but House's hand and the long, deliberate strokes building up the simmering heat in his body, brought him back to full, throbbing hardness. "You couldn't have done that in the first place?" he said, sarcasm lacing his voice, but the tension he'd felt was already melting away. Pleasure was quickly overtaking him. Foreman inhaled sharply and grabbed for House's shoulder, because if he stopped or backed away again then Foreman was going to kill him. Heat flashed across his skin, and Foreman pushed his hips forward, needing more, already aching for more than House was offering. He whispered, "House. Harder--" and then wished he hadn't said anything. He shifted his hand up to the back of House's neck, and pulled him into a kiss, so that he wouldn't be tempted to speak. Talking had gotten him into this mess. Kissing he could understand. Long, and intense, meeting House's tongue with his and sucking on it the way he wanted to suck his dick, swirling and teasing before he got so breathless that he had to break away, and then diving back for more.
The bed was two feet behind them and Foreman couldn't even be bothered to get there, too busy with both House's hand making him want to whimper, and the kiss that he couldn't seem to move away from for longer than a breath. Standing was definitely becoming an issue, though, his legs trembling as House worked him over, trying to make him collapse from the handjob before he was ready. Foreman kept his hold on House's shoulder and stepped backwards, trying to pull House with him without losing a second of sensation, but he still had no clue if House would be finally willing to actually lie down. Foreman wasn't going to ask. He reached for House's dick, his left hand bumping House's right before he pushed him away and brought their erections together and stroked them both at once. God, yes, he'd been waiting for this, House's cock hard and silky against his, sweat and precome easing his strokes. "Ohh...fuck, that's--" So good. Foreman ground against House, his forearm clenching as he sped up his rhythm. "You're...such a fucking pain in the ass," he muttered against House's mouth. It was the truth, but he couldn't find it in himself to sound resentful. He kissed him again instead, and tugged at his shoulder, trying get the message across that he wanted to be on the bed, now, without giving House some fucking personal crisis.
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Whatever it was, all his worries about it disappeared when House spoke, the sound of his voice more convincing than any look on his face. Foreman let out a short, shuddery sigh when House squeezed him. He'd lost some of his erection, but House's hand and the long, deliberate strokes building up the simmering heat in his body, brought him back to full, throbbing hardness. "You couldn't have done that in the first place?" he said, sarcasm lacing his voice, but the tension he'd felt was already melting away. Pleasure was quickly overtaking him. Foreman inhaled sharply and grabbed for House's shoulder, because if he stopped or backed away again then Foreman was going to kill him. Heat flashed across his skin, and Foreman pushed his hips forward, needing more, already aching for more than House was offering. He whispered, "House. Harder--" and then wished he hadn't said anything. He shifted his hand up to the back of House's neck, and pulled him into a kiss, so that he wouldn't be tempted to speak. Talking had gotten him into this mess. Kissing he could understand. Long, and intense, meeting House's tongue with his and sucking on it the way he wanted to suck his dick, swirling and teasing before he got so breathless that he had to break away, and then diving back for more.
The bed was two feet behind them and Foreman couldn't even be bothered to get there, too busy with both House's hand making him want to whimper, and the kiss that he couldn't seem to move away from for longer than a breath. Standing was definitely becoming an issue, though, his legs trembling as House worked him over, trying to make him collapse from the handjob before he was ready. Foreman kept his hold on House's shoulder and stepped backwards, trying to pull House with him without losing a second of sensation, but he still had no clue if House would be finally willing to actually lie down. Foreman wasn't going to ask. He reached for House's dick, his left hand bumping House's right before he pushed him away and brought their erections together and stroked them both at once. God, yes, he'd been waiting for this, House's cock hard and silky against his, sweat and precome easing his strokes. "Ohh...fuck, that's--" So good. Foreman ground against House, his forearm clenching as he sped up his rhythm. "You're...such a fucking pain in the ass," he muttered against House's mouth. It was the truth, but he couldn't find it in himself to sound resentful. He kissed him again instead, and tugged at his shoulder, trying get the message across that he wanted to be on the bed, now, without giving House some fucking personal crisis.