"Cuddy has a case for us." Foreman peered through the glass, wishing he could see more than a vague sense of House's shadow. Even though Foreman had imagined that House's voice had held some kind of invitation when he'd said he was coming down here, he didn't really believe that House had expected him to follow him. Now House sounded annoyed, more annoyed than Foreman interrupting him called for.
Unless Foreman was really interrupting him. He drew in a breath of humid air, trying to calm himself down. Not likely. House didn't like being watched, or being caught, doing anything personal, let alone jerking off in the showers at work. If he was, though, then Foreman was standing about three feet away from while he was touching himself. The sounds would be mostly covered by the rush of water, but Foreman strained to listen for the sound of House's breathing, to hear if it was louder or more harsh than usual. Had the kiss in the car really turned him on that much? Or maybe House was thinking about last night. About Foreman. Foreman closed his eyes. Or maybe he was a fucking idiot, and House was just showering.
It didn't matter that logically House was probably just taking his own sweet time getting clean, to annoy his fellows, or Cuddy, or just because. It didn't matter, because Foreman was getting hard thinking about what House would look like, stroking himself, wet and hard and trying desperately to be quiet. He crossed his arms and turned his back on the shower, leaning against the tile. "If I am here to blow you," he asked, glancing around the shower room to make sure it stayed empty, "will it take less?"
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timeasmymeasure
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Date: 2009-01-11 06:30 am (UTC)Unless Foreman was really interrupting him. He drew in a breath of humid air, trying to calm himself down. Not likely. House didn't like being watched, or being caught, doing anything personal, let alone jerking off in the showers at work. If he was, though, then Foreman was standing about three feet away from while he was touching himself. The sounds would be mostly covered by the rush of water, but Foreman strained to listen for the sound of House's breathing, to hear if it was louder or more harsh than usual. Had the kiss in the car really turned him on that much? Or maybe House was thinking about last night. About Foreman. Foreman closed his eyes. Or maybe he was a fucking idiot, and House was just showering.
It didn't matter that logically House was probably just taking his own sweet time getting clean, to annoy his fellows, or Cuddy, or just because. It didn't matter, because Foreman was getting hard thinking about what House would look like, stroking himself, wet and hard and trying desperately to be quiet. He crossed his arms and turned his back on the shower, leaning against the tile. "If I am here to blow you," he asked, glancing around the shower room to make sure it stayed empty, "will it take less?"