A sense of awkward self-awareness fell over House as he stood up, naked and unsupported, nothing to grasp onto or guide him through the room. Without moving his head too much--he'd rather Foreman not catch him searching out support--House glanced through the parts of the room that were in view, looking for his cane. Where the hell had he left it? He couldn't remember, and, deciding to forgo it, made his way across the room, slowly heading for the bathroom door. His hand flattened against the wall as soon as it was close enough, and he paused as Foreman spoke, not turning to look back at him and not responding. He didn't care to see the expression on Foreman's face now, not when he was doing the cripple-hop across the room. He wasn't sure if Foreman was intending to barge in on his shower, and he was curious, though he hoped that he could have a little time to himself. Foreman hadn't left him the fuck alone ever since he'd gotten back. Granted, a part of him was very satisfied by that, by the knowledge that Foreman couldn't leave him alone, couldn't keep his hands off him. He just needed to regroup, get his bearings. Get the drying lube off his ass, for fuck's sake.
He didn't look back before finally making it into the bathroom, shutting the door and locking it. If Foreman wanted to come in, he'd have to work harder for it. He eyed Foreman's vanity, the neatly folded towels, the single toothbrush in the holder near the clean sink. After he turned on the shower, he quietly opened Foreman's medicine cabinet and found--Jesus, nothing interesting. Nothing but old standbys. He wondered if Foreman kept anything more interesting in another place, his mind moving back to what Foreman might keep in the bedroom--unique lube, sex toys--and made a mental note to see if that stash was any less boring. If there was a stash. Leaving the door of the cabinet slightly ajar, just to let Foreman know he'd looked through it, maybe prompt some paranoia about where else he'd look, he moved across to the shower and carefully stepped into it. He held tightly to the towel rail on the wall, just outside the shower, as he maneuvered himself inside and leaned his hand on the tiles once he was there, letting the water run over his back. He stood there for a moment, just enjoying the warmth before he started to wash himself, scrubbing shampoo into his hair and wondering if Foreman would actually try to join him.
no subject
He didn't look back before finally making it into the bathroom, shutting the door and locking it. If Foreman wanted to come in, he'd have to work harder for it. He eyed Foreman's vanity, the neatly folded towels, the single toothbrush in the holder near the clean sink. After he turned on the shower, he quietly opened Foreman's medicine cabinet and found--Jesus, nothing interesting. Nothing but old standbys. He wondered if Foreman kept anything more interesting in another place, his mind moving back to what Foreman might keep in the bedroom--unique lube, sex toys--and made a mental note to see if that stash was any less boring. If there was a stash. Leaving the door of the cabinet slightly ajar, just to let Foreman know he'd looked through it, maybe prompt some paranoia about where else he'd look, he moved across to the shower and carefully stepped into it. He held tightly to the towel rail on the wall, just outside the shower, as he maneuvered himself inside and leaned his hand on the tiles once he was there, letting the water run over his back. He stood there for a moment, just enjoying the warmth before he started to wash himself, scrubbing shampoo into his hair and wondering if Foreman would actually try to join him.