"Simple primping," House said. Preening yourself for public appearances. Another way Foreman revealed his obsession with his reputation, with being judged well. As if his appearance could earn him respect. He wanted to tell Foreman that all of that wasn't what mattered, but Foreman wouldn't change any more than he would, except Foreman was a delusional moron, in this case. Good thing for him House happened to like his more redeemable qualities. House reached for the door, but stopped when Foreman grabbed his arm.

He turned, had enough time to feel a grin start to pull at the corner of his mouth before Foreman pulled him into a kiss. This wouldn't make his thoughts go away--he'd put them to the side, never out of sight, to investigate later--but House let them fade to the background, tilting his head to push back, deepen the kiss. When the kiss tapered off, House leaned back, hand still on the door, and let his grin form fully. He quirked his eyebrows, trying to look devious, and pulled open the door. "I can never have too much fun lying to Cuddy. I can mock her, and you. Probably your hypothetical interviewer. What do you say, breakfast interview? Coffee came out of your nose when I joined you and your stuffy potential employer at your table? We need to cover details or she'll never buy it."