Foreman stopped chewing abruptly. He swallowed, glaring at the television rather than meet House's eyes after he'd said the word couple. Jesus, he couldn't decide which part of that sentence disturbed him more, being a couple or being like House. "We are not a couple," he said, hoping to stop that train of thought cold. Just because they'd fucked a couple of times did not make this anything resembling a relationship. Couples woke up together, maybe left for work together, came home and had something to talk about with each other. They didn't eat in front of the television because they had, really, nothing in common. And he and House fucking didn't. What the hell was he supposed to talk with House about? Wasn't it funny how you sabotaged my interviews and nearly ruined my career? Isn't it great screwing around with your new underlings? If House wanted a conversation he had Wilson. Foreman didn't know what the hell they found to talk about and he didn't really care.
"And don't make a mess," he added, knowing that it was a futile request even as he was making it. House would probably take great pleasure in slapping his dinner down on the couch, just like he had with the damn ketchup that was still all over Foreman's backseat. Foreman stabbed his dinner with his fork and took another bite, eating doggedly and trying to pay attention to the news. He knew House had taken it badly when he'd called sleeping with him a mistake. Foreman had had enough trouble convincing House to come back after that. It wasn't that he didn't want him, obviously, or even want him here--which was fine as long as Foreman was keeping an eye on him. It was mostly that he didn't trust House, didn't trust him not to out Foreman at work, didn't trust him not to clam up and get edgy and defensive, and definitely didn't trust him with a word like couple. Because if Foreman hinted that he wanted that--which he didn't--then House would probably break landspeed records getting away from him.
"Look, House." Foreman stopped, forced out a breath, and then set his plate down on the coffee table. He faced House, even though it was the last thing he really wanted to do. He needed to set some rules, to make it clear where they both stood, otherwise he was going to crazy not knowing. Maybe House liked the chaos, but Foreman didn't want any part of it. "I'm not interested in the details of your damn day. I was there. I'm not your boyfriend, and don't try and pretend that you want me to be." He shook his head slightly, trying to define for himself exactly what he did want. "I want you--" Foreman shrugged and glanced away at the sound of his voice actually saying the words. "--here. Why mess with a good thing?"
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"And don't make a mess," he added, knowing that it was a futile request even as he was making it. House would probably take great pleasure in slapping his dinner down on the couch, just like he had with the damn ketchup that was still all over Foreman's backseat. Foreman stabbed his dinner with his fork and took another bite, eating doggedly and trying to pay attention to the news. He knew House had taken it badly when he'd called sleeping with him a mistake. Foreman had had enough trouble convincing House to come back after that. It wasn't that he didn't want him, obviously, or even want him here--which was fine as long as Foreman was keeping an eye on him. It was mostly that he didn't trust House, didn't trust him not to out Foreman at work, didn't trust him not to clam up and get edgy and defensive, and definitely didn't trust him with a word like couple. Because if Foreman hinted that he wanted that--which he didn't--then House would probably break landspeed records getting away from him.
"Look, House." Foreman stopped, forced out a breath, and then set his plate down on the coffee table. He faced House, even though it was the last thing he really wanted to do. He needed to set some rules, to make it clear where they both stood, otherwise he was going to crazy not knowing. Maybe House liked the chaos, but Foreman didn't want any part of it. "I'm not interested in the details of your damn day. I was there. I'm not your boyfriend, and don't try and pretend that you want me to be." He shook his head slightly, trying to define for himself exactly what he did want. "I want you--" Foreman shrugged and glanced away at the sound of his voice actually saying the words. "--here. Why mess with a good thing?"