The steam of the shower made everything wet and slippery, making it easy to stroke House's cock fast and tight. Foreman frowned when he heard House's whisper, followed by his moan, loud enough that House couldn't possibly be trying to be careful at all. He gripped House's thigh harder, but that was as much warning as he gave. He wasn't going to prolong this just because House couldn't follow instructions. He started moving his hand even faster, wanting to finish and wanting to get his before too much time had passed. He was already half-hard from anticipation and if he could stroke himself while he sucked House off, he'd be on the edge right on time for House to return the favour. Foreman leaned down, taking House in deeper, only to feel House's hands on his shoulders, shoving him away. Why the hell was House pushing him back? He pulled away to ask, angry for a split second before he heard the footsteps. Foreman froze completely. Somebody had walked in. Oh fuck. He was a fucking idiot, he'd known he was and he'd done this anyway. Shit, shit, shit.
A moment like this was so fucking ridiculous. Just his goddamn luck. Foreman should be furious--he was--but at the same time, it wasn't like he could shout or blame House for this entire fiasco. He had to keep quiet; his entire professional reputation hinged on staying silent, unnoticed. His knees ached, he still had a hand wrapped around House's erection, he was naked and giving a blowjob in the showers at work, where he expected his colleagues to take him seriously on a regular basis, about to be caught by--if the universe had any sympathy for him--some random person, not somebody he knew, not somebody he'd have to look in the eye after this.
It was his own goddamn fault. That was the worst part of it, that Foreman had completely abandoned any moral high ground he might once have had. So Cameron and Chase had done it in the sleep lab while monitoring a patient; at least Foreman hadn't walked in on them with Chase's dick in Cameron's mouth. At least that image had the effect of damping his arousal somewhat. He could just picture the look of wide-eyed, gobsmacked astonishment on Chase's face, and Cameron's red-faced excuses. If any of them could've gotten past the embarrassment, it would have been pretty hilarious. Foreman probably looked no better right now--terrified but still turned on at the worst possible moment; and as for House--
Foreman made the mistake of looking up into House's face right then, when House shoved him a second time and silently ordered him to stop. House looked as panicked as Foreman felt, a deer caught in the headlights. Or like a guy who claimed he didn't care what anyone thought finding out that he did care after all. Foreman's lips twitched, and he felt a bubble of laughter rising in his chest. He clamped his mouth shut. He bent his head again, not to continue the blowjob but just because if he kept looking at House, he was going to burst out laughing and give them away. His shoulders shook, and he leaned down on House's left thigh, blocking his mouth with his forearm. He hadn't felt this close to laughing uncontrollably since he'd been infected with naegleria, but this time he wasn't laughing at anybody but himself.
There was a sound of the locker slamming shut, footsteps again, and then the swing of the door to the lounge. Foreman gasped, still swallowing down his laughter. They hadn't been caught. They still might be. He couldn't imagine a narrower margin. They could still get out of this with their dignity intact, if they stopped right the hell now. "Isn't it your job to shoot down the really stupid ideas?" Foreman asked, his voice still shaky with how close he was to laughing. That was as close as he wanted to get to taking the blame for this little disaster. He sat back, about to stand up; he'd had his fill of boneheaded stunts for one day.
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timeasmymeasure
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Date: 2009-01-13 06:33 am (UTC)A moment like this was so fucking ridiculous. Just his goddamn luck. Foreman should be furious--he was--but at the same time, it wasn't like he could shout or blame House for this entire fiasco. He had to keep quiet; his entire professional reputation hinged on staying silent, unnoticed. His knees ached, he still had a hand wrapped around House's erection, he was naked and giving a blowjob in the showers at work, where he expected his colleagues to take him seriously on a regular basis, about to be caught by--if the universe had any sympathy for him--some random person, not somebody he knew, not somebody he'd have to look in the eye after this.
It was his own goddamn fault. That was the worst part of it, that Foreman had completely abandoned any moral high ground he might once have had. So Cameron and Chase had done it in the sleep lab while monitoring a patient; at least Foreman hadn't walked in on them with Chase's dick in Cameron's mouth. At least that image had the effect of damping his arousal somewhat. He could just picture the look of wide-eyed, gobsmacked astonishment on Chase's face, and Cameron's red-faced excuses. If any of them could've gotten past the embarrassment, it would have been pretty hilarious. Foreman probably looked no better right now--terrified but still turned on at the worst possible moment; and as for House--
Foreman made the mistake of looking up into House's face right then, when House shoved him a second time and silently ordered him to stop. House looked as panicked as Foreman felt, a deer caught in the headlights. Or like a guy who claimed he didn't care what anyone thought finding out that he did care after all. Foreman's lips twitched, and he felt a bubble of laughter rising in his chest. He clamped his mouth shut. He bent his head again, not to continue the blowjob but just because if he kept looking at House, he was going to burst out laughing and give them away. His shoulders shook, and he leaned down on House's left thigh, blocking his mouth with his forearm. He hadn't felt this close to laughing uncontrollably since he'd been infected with naegleria, but this time he wasn't laughing at anybody but himself.
There was a sound of the locker slamming shut, footsteps again, and then the swing of the door to the lounge. Foreman gasped, still swallowing down his laughter. They hadn't been caught. They still might be. He couldn't imagine a narrower margin. They could still get out of this with their dignity intact, if they stopped right the hell now. "Isn't it your job to shoot down the really stupid ideas?" Foreman asked, his voice still shaky with how close he was to laughing. That was as close as he wanted to get to taking the blame for this little disaster. He sat back, about to stand up; he'd had his fill of boneheaded stunts for one day.