Foreman refused to take a step backwards when House studied him up close. He tensed slightly, hoping it wouldn't show, trying to anticipate what House would do. House would take their shouting match for flirtation, and the kissing certainly had been, and Foreman didn't know if House would get angry that Foreman acted differently at work, or go the opposite route and try to kiss him again to prove that Foreman wasn't immune just because they were in the office. Neither happened, though, and Foreman met House's level stare with his own. He wasn't going to give anything away just because House happened to be standing right in front of him. "I'm not being predictable, then," he said, as if that was the end of the conversation.
Apparently it was, since House backed off and headed for the lounge a minute later. Foreman sat down in front of the computer, glad of a few minutes' peace to answer the consult requests. House had sounded much to smug when he'd said he was going to take a shower. Foreman had already guessed that, and it didn't need to be reiterated, unless House was trying to say something else. Something along the lines of You know where I'll be. You know what I'll be doing. Naked, and wet, and almost certainly alone since it was past the shift change and any of the night staff who used the showers would have already left. Foreman could very easily go down there and find him, kiss him again and taste the heat of the water on his lips; strip down and get in with him, push House against the tile, see just how far they could get, groping and kissing and skin pressed to skin, while still standing up.
Foreman blew out a frustrated breath. No. He wasn't going to do that, no matter how tempting the thought. Last spring, when Cameron and Chase were hooking up all over the hospital, Foreman had known long before either of them that it was going to end badly. Cameron would get her heart broken and start moping, or Chase would get his heart trampled on--which was more or less what had ended up happening, as far as Foreman knew. The point was, they'd both been blind enough, or selfish enough, to involve everyone else in the department in their personal issues. Foreman didn't want to get dragged into their drama, or into taking sides. He also didn't want to be watch them flirting, or making puppy eyes at each other, or being stuck between them when the frosty silences started. He knew it would be the same with him and House. As much fun as they might be having on their own time, the hospital just wasn't the place for it, and Foreman was not going to follow House downstairs just because he couldn't control his own fantasies. He shook his head, trying to focus, and went back to answering the mail.
The phone rang, and Foreman picked it up absently. "Department of Diagnostics."
"Is House in yet?" Cuddy asked.
Foreman sat back, raising his eyebrows at the still-empty room. He could certainly sound innocent to Cuddy over the phone. "I think he's around," he said, fighting down the immediate image of House in the shower, water dripping off his top lip and running down his chest.
"Then he's ignoring my messages. Tell him I have a case for him, or better yet, hunt him down so that I don't have to, and send him to my office."
"I can--" Foreman started, but she'd already hung up. He gave a disgusted sigh. The last case, he'd managed the team just fine on his own. It would be nice if Cuddy knew that.
And wasn't this perfect. Foreman had avoided thinking about House for all of two minutes, and now he had to go and get him out of the shower. His heart beat faster in anticipation, and Foreman rolled his eyes at himself. He was just delivering a message. It was work.
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timeasmymeasure
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Date: 2009-01-11 04:03 am (UTC)Apparently it was, since House backed off and headed for the lounge a minute later. Foreman sat down in front of the computer, glad of a few minutes' peace to answer the consult requests. House had sounded much to smug when he'd said he was going to take a shower. Foreman had already guessed that, and it didn't need to be reiterated, unless House was trying to say something else. Something along the lines of You know where I'll be. You know what I'll be doing. Naked, and wet, and almost certainly alone since it was past the shift change and any of the night staff who used the showers would have already left. Foreman could very easily go down there and find him, kiss him again and taste the heat of the water on his lips; strip down and get in with him, push House against the tile, see just how far they could get, groping and kissing and skin pressed to skin, while still standing up.
Foreman blew out a frustrated breath. No. He wasn't going to do that, no matter how tempting the thought. Last spring, when Cameron and Chase were hooking up all over the hospital, Foreman had known long before either of them that it was going to end badly. Cameron would get her heart broken and start moping, or Chase would get his heart trampled on--which was more or less what had ended up happening, as far as Foreman knew. The point was, they'd both been blind enough, or selfish enough, to involve everyone else in the department in their personal issues. Foreman didn't want to get dragged into their drama, or into taking sides. He also didn't want to be watch them flirting, or making puppy eyes at each other, or being stuck between them when the frosty silences started. He knew it would be the same with him and House. As much fun as they might be having on their own time, the hospital just wasn't the place for it, and Foreman was not going to follow House downstairs just because he couldn't control his own fantasies. He shook his head, trying to focus, and went back to answering the mail.
The phone rang, and Foreman picked it up absently. "Department of Diagnostics."
"Is House in yet?" Cuddy asked.
Foreman sat back, raising his eyebrows at the still-empty room. He could certainly sound innocent to Cuddy over the phone. "I think he's around," he said, fighting down the immediate image of House in the shower, water dripping off his top lip and running down his chest.
"Then he's ignoring my messages. Tell him I have a case for him, or better yet, hunt him down so that I don't have to, and send him to my office."
"I can--" Foreman started, but she'd already hung up. He gave a disgusted sigh. The last case, he'd managed the team just fine on his own. It would be nice if Cuddy knew that.
And wasn't this perfect. Foreman had avoided thinking about House for all of two minutes, and now he had to go and get him out of the shower. His heart beat faster in anticipation, and Foreman rolled his eyes at himself. He was just delivering a message. It was work.