"Maybe if you get your damn hand out of my way--" Foreman nudged House's arm aside sharply. Didn't matter how hot it was that House was reaching for him, didn't matter how much he wanted that touch, it wasn't helping if House's hand grabbing at his hip was all that was between him and actually getting the goddamn condom on. His hands were shaking, and even the feel of his fingertips, rolling the latex on, was sending pulses of arousal through his groin. Fuck, he wasn't going to last. Good thing it seemed like House wouldn't either. God, the sounds he'd been making. Foreman had barely been able to hear words underneath the groans, yeah and fuck and House pushing into his touch as hard as he could. Foreman couldn't grab a full breath. He wanted to be pressed up against House again, every inch, front to back, and he wanted to be fucking him, now.
The bottle of lube was jabbing into his hip, but at least that made it easy to find. He flicked off the cap, pouring out a handful, already warm from being caught under his body. Stroked his hand down his cock, once, fast, trying to spread the lube without actually touching himself too much. He'd used more than he needed and it was making a mess but he didn't give a fuck. His hand was oily, fingers sliding against each other, and just knowing what he was going to be doing with them in about two seconds made his body burn with urgency. The angle was terrible and Foreman wasn't exactly deft with his right hand. He doubted House would care. He'd already had his fingers up House's ass earlier tonight and it would be easier this time. He rolled closer, hoping that House would touch him again, that Foreman hadn't driven him away entirely just because he'd snapped at him. It was the only way he could stop himself from saying everything else. I want you. You feel so good. Want to see you, hear you-- Idiotic, sentimental things, nothing he could ever imagine actually saying to House. Easier to touch him, run his hand down House's ass, press against his perineum just behind his balls. Rubbing, exploring, then pushing two fingers inside. Just enough to stretch him open. Foreman wasn't thinking about teasing, wasn't thinking about much of anything beyond making sure this wouldn't hurt. Trying to make it good.
Impatience won and Foreman pulled his fingers out almost before he'd gotten started. He held the base of his cock, just over the edge of the condom. He settled himself behind House, and--there--oh fucking Christ--pushed in, panting desperately, a high-pitched moan catching in his throat. Slow. Had to go slow, just for now. "Yeah, ohh, that feels--" Incredible. Too good to waste breath talking about, and Foreman barely paused before he hauled House closer and began to thrust.
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The bottle of lube was jabbing into his hip, but at least that made it easy to find. He flicked off the cap, pouring out a handful, already warm from being caught under his body. Stroked his hand down his cock, once, fast, trying to spread the lube without actually touching himself too much. He'd used more than he needed and it was making a mess but he didn't give a fuck. His hand was oily, fingers sliding against each other, and just knowing what he was going to be doing with them in about two seconds made his body burn with urgency. The angle was terrible and Foreman wasn't exactly deft with his right hand. He doubted House would care. He'd already had his fingers up House's ass earlier tonight and it would be easier this time. He rolled closer, hoping that House would touch him again, that Foreman hadn't driven him away entirely just because he'd snapped at him. It was the only way he could stop himself from saying everything else. I want you. You feel so good. Want to see you, hear you-- Idiotic, sentimental things, nothing he could ever imagine actually saying to House. Easier to touch him, run his hand down House's ass, press against his perineum just behind his balls. Rubbing, exploring, then pushing two fingers inside. Just enough to stretch him open. Foreman wasn't thinking about teasing, wasn't thinking about much of anything beyond making sure this wouldn't hurt. Trying to make it good.
Impatience won and Foreman pulled his fingers out almost before he'd gotten started. He held the base of his cock, just over the edge of the condom. He settled himself behind House, and--there--oh fucking Christ--pushed in, panting desperately, a high-pitched moan catching in his throat. Slow. Had to go slow, just for now. "Yeah, ohh, that feels--" Incredible. Too good to waste breath talking about, and Foreman barely paused before he hauled House closer and began to thrust.