House kept his eyes fixed on Foreman's face, watching him as spoke, but hardly even hearing him. Trying to ignore the way his breathing hadn't relaxed at all, the way his body was aching more than ever as Foreman drew closer. Trying to convince himself he was calmer, more controlled than he actually was. It was a hopeless fucking case, and House knew it as his body almost immediately shifted closer, his hand twitching with the desire to reach over and touch Foreman enough to make him as crazy and desperate as he felt.
He heard Foreman's second comment, however, but had no time to argue it as Foreman pushed him to his side and bit down on his shoulder. Not as hard as he suspected he'd done to Foreman during their kiss, but fuck, it made him tense, arch his back, and try to shy away from Foreman's mouth. House swallowed, relaxed a little, when he felt the press of Foreman's chest against his back, his shoulders sagging, tension draining entirely when Foreman rubbed himself against him. He could feel his muscles giving up what was left of the fight at the sound of Foreman's voice in his ear, his mouth close, feeling like he had no choice but to listen.
"Oh," House whispered with a breathy exhale, leaning his head back to rest against Foreman's shoulder. "Yes." He knew he was responding to the question and to the rub of Foreman's erection, nerve endings tingling with anticipation, cock twitching, breath hitching. God, he really did want to fuck Foreman. It would be hot. So fucking hot to see Foreman wanting more, groaning, and pushing back, and coming because House knew exactly what to do to him. At some point. Foreman hadn't laid out any specifics. It had been a general question, only required a general answer. Wasn't the whole answer. Not what House wanted now.
House knew it was pathetic, but, with the almost-promise of Foreman's dick pressing hard, urgent against his ass, House wanted to prompt Foreman to give him what he wanted, imply it. Throw Foreman a damn hint, since Foreman had practically insisted that he was interested. A part of House's mind still doubted it, but House was too concerned with Foreman's hand pulling at his hip, Foreman's cock rubbing against him, hardly any space between their bodies now. All of it. All of the sensations, the sound of Foreman's voice--House wasn't sure he would be able to hear Foreman speak under normal circumstances and not imagine the accompanying gust of hot air in his ear. Goosebumps rose on his body, and he shivered, involuntarily pressing back against Foreman's body, feeling heat spread from Foreman's chest to his back. God, it felt so fucking good, and House caught himself hoping that Foreman wouldn't pull away, that he would keep his body this damn close, when he was fucking him. House was tempted to tell Foreman what he did want--right now, in that instant. Explicitly. He wanted Foreman to finally touch him. He hadn't fucking done it yet, and as much as all the other contact was making House's mind spin, he really wanted Foreman to touch him. Fuck. He rocked his hips back instead, trapping Foreman's dick between their bodies, half-hating himself at how needy he knew he'd sound as he said, breathing hard through the words, "Just not--right now."
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timeasmymeasure
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Date: 2009-01-01 08:29 am (UTC)He heard Foreman's second comment, however, but had no time to argue it as Foreman pushed him to his side and bit down on his shoulder. Not as hard as he suspected he'd done to Foreman during their kiss, but fuck, it made him tense, arch his back, and try to shy away from Foreman's mouth. House swallowed, relaxed a little, when he felt the press of Foreman's chest against his back, his shoulders sagging, tension draining entirely when Foreman rubbed himself against him. He could feel his muscles giving up what was left of the fight at the sound of Foreman's voice in his ear, his mouth close, feeling like he had no choice but to listen.
"Oh," House whispered with a breathy exhale, leaning his head back to rest against Foreman's shoulder. "Yes." He knew he was responding to the question and to the rub of Foreman's erection, nerve endings tingling with anticipation, cock twitching, breath hitching. God, he really did want to fuck Foreman. It would be hot. So fucking hot to see Foreman wanting more, groaning, and pushing back, and coming because House knew exactly what to do to him. At some point. Foreman hadn't laid out any specifics. It had been a general question, only required a general answer. Wasn't the whole answer. Not what House wanted now.
House knew it was pathetic, but, with the almost-promise of Foreman's dick pressing hard, urgent against his ass, House wanted to prompt Foreman to give him what he wanted, imply it. Throw Foreman a damn hint, since Foreman had practically insisted that he was interested. A part of House's mind still doubted it, but House was too concerned with Foreman's hand pulling at his hip, Foreman's cock rubbing against him, hardly any space between their bodies now. All of it. All of the sensations, the sound of Foreman's voice--House wasn't sure he would be able to hear Foreman speak under normal circumstances and not imagine the accompanying gust of hot air in his ear. Goosebumps rose on his body, and he shivered, involuntarily pressing back against Foreman's body, feeling heat spread from Foreman's chest to his back. God, it felt so fucking good, and House caught himself hoping that Foreman wouldn't pull away, that he would keep his body this damn close, when he was fucking him. House was tempted to tell Foreman what he did want--right now, in that instant. Explicitly. He wanted Foreman to finally touch him. He hadn't fucking done it yet, and as much as all the other contact was making House's mind spin, he really wanted Foreman to touch him. Fuck. He rocked his hips back instead, trapping Foreman's dick between their bodies, half-hating himself at how needy he knew he'd sound as he said, breathing hard through the words, "Just not--right now."