House blew a doubtful scoff at Foreman, practically into his mouth, after Foreman spoke and covered his mouth in another kiss. When Foreman pulled back, House found himself breathless, panting hard. Jesus, this was getting so fast that it was making him dizzy, but he managed to hang on to his control. He was surprised that he was still holding on to it so well and for so long. It was even more satisfying, then, to see Foreman losing his, the frustration easy to see on his face, the desperate attempt to regain control as he tore House's shirt off. He met Foreman's kiss again, but pulled away quickly, Foreman's earlier words hanging in his ear and begging for a response.
"You tell me you're not asking, but the way you've been hovering and waiting for me to touch you says that you are, just not with words," House said, smug with the knowledge that he was right, that all evidence pointed to the fact that Foreman was, despite the roughhousing, waiting for some kind of sign to continue even further. He was pushing--asking--with the hope that House would give in, answer with a gasped, strained yes. House was sure of it, or Foreman would have had him naked, flipped over on the bed, and a couple fingers already working him open. The cool spread of Foreman's hands--still damp with water--on his chest felt good, but Foreman could do better, go further.
House looked up into Foreman's face, released a breathless, quiet laugh, and said, "If I didn't know better, I'd think you were the one who wanted to get fucked, not me." House reached down with both hands, his brain already imagining how that would go, how it would feel--fucking Foreman, if he ever agreed to it--and spread his hands over Foreman's ass, rocking him forward and squeezing to emphasize the point. He closed his eyes and released a rush of air at the press of Foreman's hands, harder now on his chest, more of Foreman's weight behind it as House pulled him forward again. His own body was starting to respond more now, his cock fully hard, tenting his--Foreman's--pajamas, and House lifted his hips to grind his erection against Foreman before dropping back down to the bed, hands still kneading Foreman's ass. He was sure that Foreman wouldn't go for it--the idea of getting fucked--but it was almost the point. Foreman would only push him harder that way, try his best to guide them in the opposite direction. Either way, win-win for him. "Why use a toy when you can use the real thing, right?"
no subject
"You tell me you're not asking, but the way you've been hovering and waiting for me to touch you says that you are, just not with words," House said, smug with the knowledge that he was right, that all evidence pointed to the fact that Foreman was, despite the roughhousing, waiting for some kind of sign to continue even further. He was pushing--asking--with the hope that House would give in, answer with a gasped, strained yes. House was sure of it, or Foreman would have had him naked, flipped over on the bed, and a couple fingers already working him open. The cool spread of Foreman's hands--still damp with water--on his chest felt good, but Foreman could do better, go further.
House looked up into Foreman's face, released a breathless, quiet laugh, and said, "If I didn't know better, I'd think you were the one who wanted to get fucked, not me." House reached down with both hands, his brain already imagining how that would go, how it would feel--fucking Foreman, if he ever agreed to it--and spread his hands over Foreman's ass, rocking him forward and squeezing to emphasize the point. He closed his eyes and released a rush of air at the press of Foreman's hands, harder now on his chest, more of Foreman's weight behind it as House pulled him forward again. His own body was starting to respond more now, his cock fully hard, tenting his--Foreman's--pajamas, and House lifted his hips to grind his erection against Foreman before dropping back down to the bed, hands still kneading Foreman's ass. He was sure that Foreman wouldn't go for it--the idea of getting fucked--but it was almost the point. Foreman would only push him harder that way, try his best to guide them in the opposite direction. Either way, win-win for him. "Why use a toy when you can use the real thing, right?"