Ignoring House's attempt to speak, Foreman focused on continuing the kiss. He couldn't get House's ealier words out of his mind, much as he tried. Like you're mine. Like you're proud to be with me. Even meant as a joke, that taunt was far more than Foreman had ever expected he'd hear House say. House said the most when he was pretending not to say anything, and Foreman couldn't help thinking that House was letting what he wanted show. Subconsciously, maybe, but he'd said it. Foreman let House break the kiss, sighing when House casually lay back on his pants to prevent him from grabbing them. A second later, he stopped worrying about it, when House brushed his hand over his erection, but the real reason Foreman's heart was speeding was because he felt like he'd managed to dig his way under one of House's layers of bullshit, or knock down the first wall. Maybe it was because he'd refused to leave last night, had gotten House to trust him. It was an uncomfortable thought--Foreman didn't like to acknowledge it, but he knew he wasn't the most trustworthy person to be in a relationship with. Other things had always mattered more to him. His career. And not getting caught up with somebody who just didn't measure up to the standards he'd set for himself.
"You could have been," he said. "But I thought you were so sure you wouldn't get anything out of giving me a show." The show he was getting now was already working to erode his willpower. The muscles in House's arms stood out as he propped himself up on his elbow, and the obvious line of his erection firmed up under House's touch. Foreman inhaled, watching, feeling the urge to get rid of House's boxers altogether, and his own while he was at it. He didn't want to leave. He wanted to let House keep touching him, keep kissing him. They didn't have a patient. Foreman didn't have clinic hours, and House wouldn't care whether he did or not. Any new case they took now would just ruin the weekend, and Foreman knew he wouldn't get a speck of House's attention as long as he had a puzzle to solve. He'd figured that out in the last few days. It was Friday, for fuck's sake, and it was already midmorning. By the time he could shower and dress and get in, it would be lunch time. So why not have this, for an hour, and then make it to work for the afternoon? House would just call it an early lunch. And Foreman didn't want to go in, not if it meant showing up with House, both of them left open to all the speculation anyone wanted to make.
Foreman leaned in closer, kneeling on the bed and supporting himself just above House. He could feel the heat of House's body, and he breathed in, smelling House's skin as he dipped his head lower. "I think you're getting ahead," he said, tearing his eyes away from House's hand long enough to kiss him again. Wouldn't hurt if House took that as a hint to touch him again. God, he didn't want to go. He wanted to keep on kissing House, slowly and thoroughly, but he wasn't about to let any relationship turn him into a sap, especially not with House. Foreman pulled back slowly, his lips lingering against House's for as long as possible. He watched House fondly, knowing he was going to be pissed off in about five seconds, as if Foreman wouldn't be suffering just as much by stopping. "I'm sure they'd only think I was crazy to be with you," he said lightly, returning House's words to him to see how he'd react. "I'm going to shower before I go," he said, hovering for a second longer, hating that he hoped House would persuade him not to leave.
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"You could have been," he said. "But I thought you were so sure you wouldn't get anything out of giving me a show." The show he was getting now was already working to erode his willpower. The muscles in House's arms stood out as he propped himself up on his elbow, and the obvious line of his erection firmed up under House's touch. Foreman inhaled, watching, feeling the urge to get rid of House's boxers altogether, and his own while he was at it. He didn't want to leave. He wanted to let House keep touching him, keep kissing him. They didn't have a patient. Foreman didn't have clinic hours, and House wouldn't care whether he did or not. Any new case they took now would just ruin the weekend, and Foreman knew he wouldn't get a speck of House's attention as long as he had a puzzle to solve. He'd figured that out in the last few days. It was Friday, for fuck's sake, and it was already midmorning. By the time he could shower and dress and get in, it would be lunch time. So why not have this, for an hour, and then make it to work for the afternoon? House would just call it an early lunch. And Foreman didn't want to go in, not if it meant showing up with House, both of them left open to all the speculation anyone wanted to make.
Foreman leaned in closer, kneeling on the bed and supporting himself just above House. He could feel the heat of House's body, and he breathed in, smelling House's skin as he dipped his head lower. "I think you're getting ahead," he said, tearing his eyes away from House's hand long enough to kiss him again. Wouldn't hurt if House took that as a hint to touch him again. God, he didn't want to go. He wanted to keep on kissing House, slowly and thoroughly, but he wasn't about to let any relationship turn him into a sap, especially not with House. Foreman pulled back slowly, his lips lingering against House's for as long as possible. He watched House fondly, knowing he was going to be pissed off in about five seconds, as if Foreman wouldn't be suffering just as much by stopping. "I'm sure they'd only think I was crazy to be with you," he said lightly, returning House's words to him to see how he'd react. "I'm going to shower before I go," he said, hovering for a second longer, hating that he hoped House would persuade him not to leave.