House stared down at his feet, refusing to look at Foreman, watching water fall down from his body and onto the floor as he waited for Foreman to leave. He nearly barked at Foreman again, tempted to physically shove him out of the stall along with his harsh words, but Foreman stepped out himself. Finally. House closed his eyes, breathing a sigh, a mantra of you idiot, you fucking moron rolling through his head. He fought down his arousal--what was left of it--and kept his hands at his sides, gripping the seat. He heard the other shower shut off, but he wasn't about to leave his own stall before Foreman left the damn room, and he tried to think about anything but Foreman, and what they almost did, as he waited.

Foreman's words didn't help--not one fucking bit--and House scoffed. House did not expect a follow-through. He couldn't remember Foreman ever doing him a favor, and he doubted Foreman felt one shred of guilt over leaving him horny and frustrated in the shower. Not when he was laughing about it. When Foreman spoke again, the truth came out. A bribe. It had been nothing more than a bribe, and House shook his head. "Yeah," he said, "I won't hold my breath." House stood up carefully, his erection gone but his frustration still simmering, and leaned against the wall, waiting to turn off the shower once Foreman left. "Meet me in the lecture hall. Make sure the kids are all still there."