Foreman raised his eyebrows when House admitted it wasn't too bad for him that Foreman would be stuck in Princeton for the foreseeable future. He'd never believed that House actually appreciated him. All his misguided attempts to stop Foreman from leaving only told him that House couldn't stand it if he didn't control the lives of everyone around him, as far as possible. But when House interrupted himself and then tried to focus on Foreman again, it only confirmed that he thought he'd nearly said too much. "You want to take credit for my sex life?" Foreman asked. "Sorry, but you haven't broken any records." He'd had a few girlfriends since moving here, though they'd usually been short-term. Longer than two weeks, though. Wendy was just the one House knew about.
He paused in opening his front door when House started laughing at him for hiding in the closet. Anger shot through him. That had been fucking humiliating. He should have known better than to think House would drop it. "That wasn't my idea," he snapped. "And you might as well have been in there with me. If I hadn't kissed you, then you wouldn't be getting laid more than you have since I got here." The kiss had been a stupid move, even if the results had turned out better than he had any right to expect. Foreman had had no idea that House liked men. But if the last two weeks hadn't proved anything else, at least Foreman knew that House had no room to talk about him being closeted. Foreman pushed open the door and stepped into the apartment, pulling off his jacket and hanging it up, before slamming the door shut.
Like House, Foreman didn't want his business spread all over the hospital, which was why he was discreet. There were plenty of ways in which life was just easier as long as he slept with women, brought the occasional girlfriend home to his family. That didn't mean he didn't acknowledge who he was. He'd had relationships with men. He still had no idea what House's past was like. He doubted House was going to enlighten him, and beyond how that affected him, he didn't care.
Foreman pulled House's ragged t-shirt over his head, squeezing it into a ball before he shoved it into House's chest. "I don't care if we're hiding it," he said. "But I don't need your hypocrisy when your friend walks in on us."
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He paused in opening his front door when House started laughing at him for hiding in the closet. Anger shot through him. That had been fucking humiliating. He should have known better than to think House would drop it. "That wasn't my idea," he snapped. "And you might as well have been in there with me. If I hadn't kissed you, then you wouldn't be getting laid more than you have since I got here." The kiss had been a stupid move, even if the results had turned out better than he had any right to expect. Foreman had had no idea that House liked men. But if the last two weeks hadn't proved anything else, at least Foreman knew that House had no room to talk about him being closeted. Foreman pushed open the door and stepped into the apartment, pulling off his jacket and hanging it up, before slamming the door shut.
Like House, Foreman didn't want his business spread all over the hospital, which was why he was discreet. There were plenty of ways in which life was just easier as long as he slept with women, brought the occasional girlfriend home to his family. That didn't mean he didn't acknowledge who he was. He'd had relationships with men. He still had no idea what House's past was like. He doubted House was going to enlighten him, and beyond how that affected him, he didn't care.
Foreman pulled House's ragged t-shirt over his head, squeezing it into a ball before he shoved it into House's chest. "I don't care if we're hiding it," he said. "But I don't need your hypocrisy when your friend walks in on us."