House knew Foreman wouldn't answer the phone himself, definitely knew that Foreman would not be okay with an audience, but Foreman's confirmation still satisfied him; it was still good to know that he could predict some of Foreman's behavior. Even better that Foreman cared more about being with him than getting to work, at least when work held nothing exceptionally interesting. Even better that Foreman was fumbling, so fucking urgent that he couldn't concentrate. House nearly grabbed for Foreman's arm when Foreman reached toward the table, but couldn't make it before Foreman picked up the phone. Jesus Christ, what the hell did he think he was doing? What he hadn't told Foreman was that he didn't want an audience either, didn't want Wilson, or Cuddy, or one of the fellows, or whoever it was to hear Foreman pushing moans and curses out of his mouth as he got fucked. By Foreman. God, had he been wrong? Was Foreman actually that vindictive that he'd out him this way? No, that couldn't be it. Couldn't be.
House tried to hide the breath of relief when Foreman answered and immediately ended the call, then left the line open to prevent another. Fuck, it was hotter than it should have been, seeing Foreman wanting this that badly. When Foreman leaned down, pressing against him, House returned the kiss with way more enthusiasm than he should have let on, but Foreman had already seen enough to know how turned on he was. His hands rose up to press Foreman's hips down, rock forward slightly. He could feel the slip of Foreman's cock, coated with lube, against his stomach. House shifted his hips to align his erection with Foreman's, groaning at the slick rub, his mind quickly forgetting about the phone call, about everything but how badly he wanted Foreman to move just enough to push into him. Foreman already knew that he wanted it; no fucking use in pretending now.
He spread his legs when Foreman finally shifted, and House tried to make Foreman thrust himself, hands on Foreman's ass, trying to pull him, his left leg curling around Foreman's calf to fucking keep him there this time. He could feel Foreman's cock pressing against him--so fucking close--and answered Foreman's words before he could stop himself. "Yeah, come on. Fuck. Come oooh--" Foreman thrust in, all the way in, turning House's words into a long, deep groan. Fuck, yes. That's what he'd waited for. House almost wished he could move, get Foreman to go faster, but Foreman had him covered, pinned, and all he could do was squeeze Foreman's ass. Moan and breathe into Foreman's ear. "Faster. Come on, harder," he gasped out, forgetting that Foreman had been consistent with doing the opposite of what he wanted, trying to spur him on.
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timeasmymeasure
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Date: 2009-02-22 07:38 am (UTC)House tried to hide the breath of relief when Foreman answered and immediately ended the call, then left the line open to prevent another. Fuck, it was hotter than it should have been, seeing Foreman wanting this that badly. When Foreman leaned down, pressing against him, House returned the kiss with way more enthusiasm than he should have let on, but Foreman had already seen enough to know how turned on he was. His hands rose up to press Foreman's hips down, rock forward slightly. He could feel the slip of Foreman's cock, coated with lube, against his stomach. House shifted his hips to align his erection with Foreman's, groaning at the slick rub, his mind quickly forgetting about the phone call, about everything but how badly he wanted Foreman to move just enough to push into him. Foreman already knew that he wanted it; no fucking use in pretending now.
He spread his legs when Foreman finally shifted, and House tried to make Foreman thrust himself, hands on Foreman's ass, trying to pull him, his left leg curling around Foreman's calf to fucking keep him there this time. He could feel Foreman's cock pressing against him--so fucking close--and answered Foreman's words before he could stop himself. "Yeah, come on. Fuck. Come oooh--" Foreman thrust in, all the way in, turning House's words into a long, deep groan. Fuck, yes. That's what he'd waited for. House almost wished he could move, get Foreman to go faster, but Foreman had him covered, pinned, and all he could do was squeeze Foreman's ass. Moan and breathe into Foreman's ear. "Faster. Come on, harder," he gasped out, forgetting that Foreman had been consistent with doing the opposite of what he wanted, trying to spur him on.