God, Foreman fucking loved making House open his mouth and start letting out a jumble of words, swearing and almost begging. He loved knowing that he was that good, that he could make House react so strongly, but he'd had other partners tell him he was good. The real reason was different, a little more personal. That House would give him something, show him something Foreman would be surprised if anyone else got to see. And that House wanted to give him the same pleasure back. House's hand wrapping around his cock and squeezing warmly made Foreman freeze for a moment above him, arching slightly into House's hand. "Yeah--House--"
It slowed him down, but Foreman was already intent on fucking House, not settling for a handjob, and even if House had continued, it would have ruined the game. Better to lie down on the bed. Better to see how quickly House shifted to make more room for him, lifting his hips eagerly. Foreman worked one finger into House's ass, the lube already warm and slick on his hand. House's hand stroking him had increased his own urgency, faster than Foreman would have thought, but he wasn't about to skip over the basics. Last time he'd gone too fast. Foreman hated that he'd let his desire take control of him, that he hadn't had the self-restraint to make the tease just as good as the fucking would be. Slowly--he was going to fuck House slowly, for as long as he could, no matter what House asked for. God. Foreman was beginning to breathe harder, and he reached down to squeeze his cock, the lube making the touch more intense than he'd been prepared for. With a shudder, Foreman fought to get his concentration back, kissing the inside of House's thigh as he stretched his finger in and upwards. The pace was even and measured, and Foreman avoided House's prostate at first. House's erection was hard and flushed against his stomach, straining, and Foreman didn't want this to be over too fast. He pulled his finger out and then used two, slippery pushes that reached House's prostate now, grinning as he listened for House's reactions. Foreman could probably go faster, and in just a second, he'd stop, get the condom on, and Jesus, it was going to feel amazing, so good--
The phone rang. Foreman jerked his head up, his focus broken. Fuck. He'd been close, he'd been wanting House, not thinking, but the instant the phone shrilled from the bedside table, Foreman remembered what time it was. It had to be Cuddy or Wilson calling, trying to track House down, and Foreman wasn't supposed to be here. Foreman glared at House, pulling away and rolling up to his knees. "Are you going to answer that?"
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It slowed him down, but Foreman was already intent on fucking House, not settling for a handjob, and even if House had continued, it would have ruined the game. Better to lie down on the bed. Better to see how quickly House shifted to make more room for him, lifting his hips eagerly. Foreman worked one finger into House's ass, the lube already warm and slick on his hand. House's hand stroking him had increased his own urgency, faster than Foreman would have thought, but he wasn't about to skip over the basics. Last time he'd gone too fast. Foreman hated that he'd let his desire take control of him, that he hadn't had the self-restraint to make the tease just as good as the fucking would be. Slowly--he was going to fuck House slowly, for as long as he could, no matter what House asked for. God. Foreman was beginning to breathe harder, and he reached down to squeeze his cock, the lube making the touch more intense than he'd been prepared for. With a shudder, Foreman fought to get his concentration back, kissing the inside of House's thigh as he stretched his finger in and upwards. The pace was even and measured, and Foreman avoided House's prostate at first. House's erection was hard and flushed against his stomach, straining, and Foreman didn't want this to be over too fast. He pulled his finger out and then used two, slippery pushes that reached House's prostate now, grinning as he listened for House's reactions. Foreman could probably go faster, and in just a second, he'd stop, get the condom on, and Jesus, it was going to feel amazing, so good--
The phone rang. Foreman jerked his head up, his focus broken. Fuck. He'd been close, he'd been wanting House, not thinking, but the instant the phone shrilled from the bedside table, Foreman remembered what time it was. It had to be Cuddy or Wilson calling, trying to track House down, and Foreman wasn't supposed to be here. Foreman glared at House, pulling away and rolling up to his knees. "Are you going to answer that?"