Just great. House wasn't getting out of the car, acting impervious to hints as usual. Foreman turned his head to glare at him, as if his scowl could push House out of the car, taking a deep breath before telling him that the point here was that they wouldn't be walking in together, which he doubted House wanted Terzi to see. He watched House sit up--maybe he was about to get out after all--when House made a lunge for him and grabbed his coat. Foreman's eyes widened. "What--" he started, but before he could push out the rest of the hell are you doing? House was kissing him. The rest of Foreman's breath rushed out as a soft ohhh, most of the sound muffled by House's mouth.
Foreman couldn't figure out what was happening. Even as he kissed House back, his eyes closing completely without his volition, he had no fucking clue. It wasn't rough at all, even though they'd spent the entire ride shouting at each other. Even though House's knuckles were digging into his chest where he had a handful of Foreman's coat, the kiss was different. Soft, and gentle, and it felt like House was stealing his breath with every movement. Felt like all his nerves had been diverted to the places House was touching him, a tingling, thrilling rush spreading outwards and flooding his body. House's hand moved up his thigh, and Foreman breathed sharply, wondering if House would push for more, but he didn't. His hand was warm through Foreman's pants, but that was all. Foreman let a sound rise and stop in his throat. Stupid thought, that was all, as if it was negligible, or dismissible. It wasn't. Half his mind was on House's hand, wondering if he'd go further, touch him more. The other half was on the kiss, the slow give-and-take of it. God, he couldn't stop himself from lifting his head a bit to follow House's tongue, to deepen the kiss--not rush it, not push it, but just to keep it going, keep feeling it. It was impossible to keep being angry. Foreman's body was insisting that this was right, and good, and not to ruin it.
He'd kissed House like this last night. It had been a test, or at least, it had started that way. Foreman had wanted to know if House could kiss like this, or if Foreman could break House's control if he pushed him like this, or some damn thing that had stopped mattering almost as soon as it had started. Just like this time, because if House had meant to test how much Foreman wanted him then Foreman was learning just as much as House was. Where the hell was this coming from? Why was House talking about Terzi, and hookers, and wanting to change Foreman's mind, if this was what he wanted? Was this what House had been arguing all along? That he did want something more? If anything, House was the one kissing Foreman as if he was his boyfriend, and maybe that was the point. Foreman was pretty much trapped by his seatbelt but he managed to get one hand on House's elbow, moving it up to the back of his neck. Not to pull, but just to touch, palm against House's neck, thumb rubbing lightly through his hair behind his ear.
Such a stupid thing to be doing, in the middle of the morning bustle around the hospital entrance. If anyone saw--fuck. Foreman slumped back, keeping his hand on House's neck. Just because he was stopping didn't mean he wanted to stop. He licked his lips and tilted his head back a little, to meet House's eyes, feeling very smug that House had kissed him. He smirked a little to soften his words, but it had to be said. "You realize anyone could look over here and see us making out in the car?" Some idiotic part of him hoped House wouldn't care, and kiss him again, and Foreman raised his eyebrows, half-inviting House to do just that.
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timeasmymeasure
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Date: 2009-01-09 07:32 am (UTC)Foreman couldn't figure out what was happening. Even as he kissed House back, his eyes closing completely without his volition, he had no fucking clue. It wasn't rough at all, even though they'd spent the entire ride shouting at each other. Even though House's knuckles were digging into his chest where he had a handful of Foreman's coat, the kiss was different. Soft, and gentle, and it felt like House was stealing his breath with every movement. Felt like all his nerves had been diverted to the places House was touching him, a tingling, thrilling rush spreading outwards and flooding his body. House's hand moved up his thigh, and Foreman breathed sharply, wondering if House would push for more, but he didn't. His hand was warm through Foreman's pants, but that was all. Foreman let a sound rise and stop in his throat. Stupid thought, that was all, as if it was negligible, or dismissible. It wasn't. Half his mind was on House's hand, wondering if he'd go further, touch him more. The other half was on the kiss, the slow give-and-take of it. God, he couldn't stop himself from lifting his head a bit to follow House's tongue, to deepen the kiss--not rush it, not push it, but just to keep it going, keep feeling it. It was impossible to keep being angry. Foreman's body was insisting that this was right, and good, and not to ruin it.
He'd kissed House like this last night. It had been a test, or at least, it had started that way. Foreman had wanted to know if House could kiss like this, or if Foreman could break House's control if he pushed him like this, or some damn thing that had stopped mattering almost as soon as it had started. Just like this time, because if House had meant to test how much Foreman wanted him then Foreman was learning just as much as House was. Where the hell was this coming from? Why was House talking about Terzi, and hookers, and wanting to change Foreman's mind, if this was what he wanted? Was this what House had been arguing all along? That he did want something more? If anything, House was the one kissing Foreman as if he was his boyfriend, and maybe that was the point. Foreman was pretty much trapped by his seatbelt but he managed to get one hand on House's elbow, moving it up to the back of his neck. Not to pull, but just to touch, palm against House's neck, thumb rubbing lightly through his hair behind his ear.
Such a stupid thing to be doing, in the middle of the morning bustle around the hospital entrance. If anyone saw--fuck. Foreman slumped back, keeping his hand on House's neck. Just because he was stopping didn't mean he wanted to stop. He licked his lips and tilted his head back a little, to meet House's eyes, feeling very smug that House had kissed him. He smirked a little to soften his words, but it had to be said. "You realize anyone could look over here and see us making out in the car?" Some idiotic part of him hoped House wouldn't care, and kiss him again, and Foreman raised his eyebrows, half-inviting House to do just that.