When Foreman looked up, his cock falling from his mouth, Foreman looked as though he found all of this funny. House felt a wave of fury rising up his throat, his arousal fading fast. He shoved at Foreman, trying to push him away as quietly as possible and make him stop shaking with silent laughter. He'd fucking hurt him to make him stop, and, as the footsteps started again, the door opening and closing again, House glared at him, not even bothering to restrain the anger. With any luck, he'd knock Foreman on his ass with it.
"Shut up," House snapped, jumping in before Foreman even finished his question. He heard it, hardly caring that Foreman was actually admitting that this idea had been stupid. It was Foreman's idea--not his. This was Foreman's fault. It was probably his fucking plan. Either get them caught and take some revenge for the way House had outed him to the fellows, or get him worked up enough to keep his balls blue for the rest of the damn day, just to frustrate him. Both options just made House seethe even more, and he glared at Foreman, breathing harder than normal, torn between grabbing Foreman, shoving his face down onto his cock until he finished the damn job, and kicking his ass out of the stall.
He sat forward, gripping the edge of the seat with both hands, his arms straight and tense. He had some damn pride. He wasn't that desperate that he needed Foreman to suck him off in the shower, right now. He shouldn't fucking care, but he didn't need the bullshit that would be dumped onto him if the hospital made this the talk to the water cooler. And if this had only been a plan to get some revenge, possibly to put more thoughts of Foreman, some reminders, in his head on Terzi's first day, then House didn't want to have anything to do with it. He ignored the stab of hurt, convinced now that Foreman had some kind of ulterior motive, pretending that it didn't matter, and jerked his head toward the door. "Get the hell out of here."
no subject
"Shut up," House snapped, jumping in before Foreman even finished his question. He heard it, hardly caring that Foreman was actually admitting that this idea had been stupid. It was Foreman's idea--not his. This was Foreman's fault. It was probably his fucking plan. Either get them caught and take some revenge for the way House had outed him to the fellows, or get him worked up enough to keep his balls blue for the rest of the damn day, just to frustrate him. Both options just made House seethe even more, and he glared at Foreman, breathing harder than normal, torn between grabbing Foreman, shoving his face down onto his cock until he finished the damn job, and kicking his ass out of the stall.
He sat forward, gripping the edge of the seat with both hands, his arms straight and tense. He had some damn pride. He wasn't that desperate that he needed Foreman to suck him off in the shower, right now. He shouldn't fucking care, but he didn't need the bullshit that would be dumped onto him if the hospital made this the talk to the water cooler. And if this had only been a plan to get some revenge, possibly to put more thoughts of Foreman, some reminders, in his head on Terzi's first day, then House didn't want to have anything to do with it. He ignored the stab of hurt, convinced now that Foreman had some kind of ulterior motive, pretending that it didn't matter, and jerked his head toward the door. "Get the hell out of here."