"Not if you're going to have a discussion about it first," House snapped, reaching for the soap. If Foreman was going to stand there and chit-chat, which wasn't helping his whole situation, he might as well distract himself as much as possible. Maybe if he concentrated on something else, something other than the fact that Foreman was a few feet away talking about some hypothetical blowjob, he'd get a God damn grip. His erection would flag enough to help him forget what Foreman interrupted. Yeah, that had worked so well a few minutes ago, when Foreman hadn't been standing outside the door. God, doing actual work was starting to sound like a good idea the longer Foreman stood there. The case might be interesting enough to make him immerse himself in it for a couple days. He'd take a couple hours.
As he washed himself, he realized he overlooked the fact that he'd have to touch himself to get clean. At least, make sure all of him got clean, and he struggled with the decision to actually touch his penis, half-hard now, worried that any touch would flare up all his fantasies, his arousal, all over again. Biting his lip, trying to be as quiet as possible and fighting to think of something besides how badly he wanted to stroke himself back to full hardness, jerk off, and come without Foreman even knowing, House moved a soapy hand over himself. He washed and rinsed as fast and as well as he could, glaring at the door, wondering when Foreman was going to leave. He sure as hell wasn't going to strut out of the shower like this, tenting his towel and giving Foreman an excuse to mock him. God, he could already see the smugness that would cover Foreman's face, and unless that face was hovering over his crotch, he wasn't interested in seeing it.
He didn't want to invite conversation, but since Foreman didn't seem to be leaving on his own, he figured an order wouldn't hurt--even if he hadn't hired Foreman, he still worked in his department. "Be a good little lapdog and fetch the case," he said, rolling his eyes at himself when it came out rushed, his sarcasm a little too forced. There was a chance Foreman might actually listen, and House waited, letting the water run over him, breathing quickly but quietly, his eyes fixed on Foreman's blurry shape on the other side of the door.
no subject
As he washed himself, he realized he overlooked the fact that he'd have to touch himself to get clean. At least, make sure all of him got clean, and he struggled with the decision to actually touch his penis, half-hard now, worried that any touch would flare up all his fantasies, his arousal, all over again. Biting his lip, trying to be as quiet as possible and fighting to think of something besides how badly he wanted to stroke himself back to full hardness, jerk off, and come without Foreman even knowing, House moved a soapy hand over himself. He washed and rinsed as fast and as well as he could, glaring at the door, wondering when Foreman was going to leave. He sure as hell wasn't going to strut out of the shower like this, tenting his towel and giving Foreman an excuse to mock him. God, he could already see the smugness that would cover Foreman's face, and unless that face was hovering over his crotch, he wasn't interested in seeing it.
He didn't want to invite conversation, but since Foreman didn't seem to be leaving on his own, he figured an order wouldn't hurt--even if he hadn't hired Foreman, he still worked in his department. "Be a good little lapdog and fetch the case," he said, rolling his eyes at himself when it came out rushed, his sarcasm a little too forced. There was a chance Foreman might actually listen, and House waited, letting the water run over him, breathing quickly but quietly, his eyes fixed on Foreman's blurry shape on the other side of the door.