Humiliation twisted Foreman's stomach. He had really had no idea how House would react to the dildo, beyond laughing at him. Of course House would mock the hell out of him, as if House didn't go on about his lesbian porn collection at every inappropriate opportunity. Foreman didn't exactly have the time, what with his schedule in Diagnostics, to go out and just get laid every time he felt like it. Even if he did, he wasn't about to bend over for the first person he picked up. The toy was private. How House reacted would tell him a hell of a lot, so even though he wanted to grab the towel off the floor and at least have that much distance, a barrier even if it wasn't much of one, he didn't.
House's smirking approval was easy to see. His eyes lingered on Foreman's body, his chest and abs, and he wasn't intimidated in the least by Foreman's words. No reason he should be--he was dressed, and Foreman hadn't just pulled his sex toy out of a drawer. But the way House was staring, and the lazy arousal in his eyes, made Foreman think more about how House, sitting on the bed, was at nearly the perfect height to bend down and blow him. "No, I don't," Foreman said flatly, denying it. The lie had to be obvious but he didn't care. He didn't need the toy to fuck himself, not if he and House were going to keep going. He didn't need to get fucked at all.
Maybe he'd like it--maybe he'd even allow it, at some point. Not yet, but...God, he had to stop thinking like this. It was as if House thought he could just walk into Foreman's life and take over; not just his space, but his thoughts. The whole night was starting to catch up with him. Pinning House against the counter in the kitchen. Smelling his own soap on House's skin, seeing House offhandedly wearing his clothes. All the scenarios he'd been imagining, the wet slip of House's skin under his hands in the shower, House following him into the shower, holding House down and stripping him before he fucked him. Foreman could feel his body responding to House's stare, and he wasn't about to let House see him get hard when they hadn't so much as touched. "I have something else in mind," he said. He stepped forward, leaning his knees against the bed on either side of House's hips, and tangled his fingers in House's hair, tugging his face up to kiss him hard.
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House's smirking approval was easy to see. His eyes lingered on Foreman's body, his chest and abs, and he wasn't intimidated in the least by Foreman's words. No reason he should be--he was dressed, and Foreman hadn't just pulled his sex toy out of a drawer. But the way House was staring, and the lazy arousal in his eyes, made Foreman think more about how House, sitting on the bed, was at nearly the perfect height to bend down and blow him. "No, I don't," Foreman said flatly, denying it. The lie had to be obvious but he didn't care. He didn't need the toy to fuck himself, not if he and House were going to keep going. He didn't need to get fucked at all.
Maybe he'd like it--maybe he'd even allow it, at some point. Not yet, but...God, he had to stop thinking like this. It was as if House thought he could just walk into Foreman's life and take over; not just his space, but his thoughts. The whole night was starting to catch up with him. Pinning House against the counter in the kitchen. Smelling his own soap on House's skin, seeing House offhandedly wearing his clothes. All the scenarios he'd been imagining, the wet slip of House's skin under his hands in the shower, House following him into the shower, holding House down and stripping him before he fucked him. Foreman could feel his body responding to House's stare, and he wasn't about to let House see him get hard when they hadn't so much as touched. "I have something else in mind," he said. He stepped forward, leaning his knees against the bed on either side of House's hips, and tangled his fingers in House's hair, tugging his face up to kiss him hard.