Foreman's smile widened a bit when House didn't seem to even understand what he was saying at first. Foreman hadn't really meant to provoke this; he hadn't been pushing for any answers. He'd been genuinely pissed off about Terzi, and mocking House about his chances with her, not to mention implying that he might be interested in her himself, they'd all just been ways of showing House how ridiculous he sounded. But if he'd actually made an impression, forced some kind of confession out of House without even trying--God, that made him feel ten feet tall. He wondered how many other people in the world could get House to tell them something honestly. Even if it wasn't with words, even if it was by kissing him, it meant the same thing. Foreman angled his head to meet House's lips a second time, letting a pleased hum grow in the back of his throat when House kissed him a bit harder.
He realized they hadn't really kissed last night, not after they'd finished, anyway. Foreman had pretty much come and then passed out, not that House had done anything better. And this morning, too, Foreman had been more worried about getting House out of his apartment than in establishing exactly where they stood. Foreman shied away from the word 'boyfriends' as something embarrassingly juvenile; it wasn't like he was going to be doodling House's name with his in a heart with an arrow through it all over his files. And the idea that this kiss--no matter how good--was some kind of promise seriously made him want to run in the opposite direction. But House's mouth was warm, and Foreman caught House's tongue and sucked on it, lightly, before going back to exploring his mouth, sliding deeper into the kiss so easily that he knew he was walking right past all the danger signs with his eyes shut.
He'd have to stop House, push him away. In a minute, he would. For now he was enjoying slumping back in his seat to see if House would lean over further to continue the kiss. Foreman massaged the back of House's neck a bit more, opened his mouth and let the kiss become a little more tangled, breathing just a little more quickly. The voice in the back of his head chanting you are being stupid would not shut up, though, and Foreman imagined Cuddy standing outside the car, her eyes wide in shock as she stared at him--and, yeah, that did it, they really had to stop. Foreman ran his hand back down House's arm, as if he might mirror House's move and touch his thigh, but instead he went for his seatbelt, clicking it open. He fumbled for the door handle and then pulled away, getting out as fast and as gracefully as he could before House could distract him again.
Foreman draped his arms over the door and the roof and leaned in, enjoying the sight of House still sprawled half across the gearshift. "Cuddy's going to love me if I can get you to work on time like this more often," he said. And he would, if House stayed the night.
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He realized they hadn't really kissed last night, not after they'd finished, anyway. Foreman had pretty much come and then passed out, not that House had done anything better. And this morning, too, Foreman had been more worried about getting House out of his apartment than in establishing exactly where they stood. Foreman shied away from the word 'boyfriends' as something embarrassingly juvenile; it wasn't like he was going to be doodling House's name with his in a heart with an arrow through it all over his files. And the idea that this kiss--no matter how good--was some kind of promise seriously made him want to run in the opposite direction. But House's mouth was warm, and Foreman caught House's tongue and sucked on it, lightly, before going back to exploring his mouth, sliding deeper into the kiss so easily that he knew he was walking right past all the danger signs with his eyes shut.
He'd have to stop House, push him away. In a minute, he would. For now he was enjoying slumping back in his seat to see if House would lean over further to continue the kiss. Foreman massaged the back of House's neck a bit more, opened his mouth and let the kiss become a little more tangled, breathing just a little more quickly. The voice in the back of his head chanting you are being stupid would not shut up, though, and Foreman imagined Cuddy standing outside the car, her eyes wide in shock as she stared at him--and, yeah, that did it, they really had to stop. Foreman ran his hand back down House's arm, as if he might mirror House's move and touch his thigh, but instead he went for his seatbelt, clicking it open. He fumbled for the door handle and then pulled away, getting out as fast and as gracefully as he could before House could distract him again.
Foreman draped his arms over the door and the roof and leaned in, enjoying the sight of House still sprawled half across the gearshift. "Cuddy's going to love me if I can get you to work on time like this more often," he said. And he would, if House stayed the night.