Foreman stopped shivering as soon as the heat of the water hit him, running down his back, but he could feel his muscles tightening, on the edge of trembling at the chance he was taking. He was hyper-aware of the sound of the showers, the echo from the tiles. Any sound they made could be heard, if they made any sound. If anyone walked in to hear them. His heart had to be beating loud enough to give them away. Foreman hadn't done anything this stupid since he was a deluded kid, breaking into people's houses for the fucking thrill of it. That same rush of adrenaline and endorphins was taking him over now.
It didn't matter how stupid it was. He was committed now. Foreman couldn't back down, not in front of House, not when he was the one pushing. Not when the rest of his attention was on House's expression, watching the frantic, honest surprise written across his face. Foreman didn't remember that he'd ever blindsided House like this, astonished him completely, and he liked it. The grout between the tiles scraped his knees and the tiles were too hard to be comfortable, but hopefully he wouldn't be kneeling for long. House's obvious reaction to him seemed to confirm that. House nearly surprised a laugh out of him with his question, since it had to be obvious. A question like that during a diagnosis and House would skewer the questioner with mockery for a week. House would know the reasons if his brain was working--the fact that he'd already grabbed Foreman's shoulder, probably about to pull him down to suck him, proved his mental faculties weren't at their best right now. Because it's not boring, not predictable. Because I don't have default settings. Because I want to.
Foreman wasn't about to say that. "Seeing if you can shut up when I tell you to," he said, placing his hands on House's knees. He gripped House's left thigh, feeling the heat of his skin from the shower, the tension in his muscles. House was still resisting, even though his erection had firmed up just since Foreman had kneeled down in front of him. God, that was a turn-on, that House couldn't hide his reaction.
"When Cuddy asks why you're late, you can give her the detailed X-rated version." Foreman ran his left hand up to House's dick, squeezing him lightly, stroking experimentally. "Now," he said, meeting House's eyes. "Shut up." With that, he leaned down--it would be easier if House shifted his legs a bit, but he managed--guided House's cock into his mouth. House tasted of soap and clean warm skin. Foreman started sucking right away, concentrating on the head while he stroked the base with his hand. He wanted to find the line between speed and going so hard that House wouldn't be able to keep his damn mouth shut. As soon as Foreman knew how fast he could go while House stayed silent, he planned to make House come faster than he ever had before.
no subject
It didn't matter how stupid it was. He was committed now. Foreman couldn't back down, not in front of House, not when he was the one pushing. Not when the rest of his attention was on House's expression, watching the frantic, honest surprise written across his face. Foreman didn't remember that he'd ever blindsided House like this, astonished him completely, and he liked it. The grout between the tiles scraped his knees and the tiles were too hard to be comfortable, but hopefully he wouldn't be kneeling for long. House's obvious reaction to him seemed to confirm that. House nearly surprised a laugh out of him with his question, since it had to be obvious. A question like that during a diagnosis and House would skewer the questioner with mockery for a week. House would know the reasons if his brain was working--the fact that he'd already grabbed Foreman's shoulder, probably about to pull him down to suck him, proved his mental faculties weren't at their best right now. Because it's not boring, not predictable. Because I don't have default settings. Because I want to.
Foreman wasn't about to say that. "Seeing if you can shut up when I tell you to," he said, placing his hands on House's knees. He gripped House's left thigh, feeling the heat of his skin from the shower, the tension in his muscles. House was still resisting, even though his erection had firmed up just since Foreman had kneeled down in front of him. God, that was a turn-on, that House couldn't hide his reaction.
"When Cuddy asks why you're late, you can give her the detailed X-rated version." Foreman ran his left hand up to House's dick, squeezing him lightly, stroking experimentally. "Now," he said, meeting House's eyes. "Shut up." With that, he leaned down--it would be easier if House shifted his legs a bit, but he managed--guided House's cock into his mouth. House tasted of soap and clean warm skin. Foreman started sucking right away, concentrating on the head while he stroked the base with his hand. He wanted to find the line between speed and going so hard that House wouldn't be able to keep his damn mouth shut. As soon as Foreman knew how fast he could go while House stayed silent, he planned to make House come faster than he ever had before.