Foreman had come to dinner for revenge--or at least, to show House that Foreman wasn't going to sit around waiting for House to want him, or need him. He wasn't going to admit that, though, and put himself in the wrong. House could learn to leave well enough alone, or else talk to him instead of stalking him after the fact. "I came because I was invited," he said tersely. "I didn't have a chance to find out if it would piss you off, since you haven't given me the time of day all week." Foreman had no problem lying, or with knowing House would see through the lie. He knew very well that going out with Marty wouldn't make House happy, that he'd be intentionally acting in a way that contradicted the promises he'd made. But he wasn't going to stop seeing people because of House. The best House could hope for was to ask, and Foreman would tell him.
Foreman rolled his eyes at House defending Wilson. He didn't have quite as much faith--he figured Wilson would laugh his head off when he finally found out about them. Probably he'd accept it eventually, but there was bound to be some humiliation involved, even if it was only Wilson gaping at Foreman--and, for all he knew, at House too--after finding out he liked men. Foreman wasn't going to point that out, though. He didn't know if House had said the word relationship out loud before, but even if he had, it hadn't been like this. The way House was talking about it made it real in a way it hadn't been. House was telling him how he'd felt back in the restaurant. Telling him it mattered. Foreman mattered to him. This time the I'm sorry nearly made it out of Foreman's mouth, but before he could say it, House stalked forward one jerky step and yanked Foreman forward by his tie. Foreman hadn't been expecting it, and House pulled him off-balance, crashing them both into House's car. Foreman grabbed for House's hips, only partly to make sure House stayed upright. The kiss, after the way House had grabbed him, wasn't a surprise, and Foreman leaned into it. He grunted at the pain when House bit his lip, but he didn't ease up, meeting House's tongue and trying to pour some of his own frustration into the kiss, breathing harder. This was more than someone to do that with. For the first time, Foreman knew that House thought it was more, too. He still didn't know why House had been jerking him around for the last week, but in all probability, he'd never understand House.
Neither of them had done up their coats after leaving the restaurant, and Foreman pushed his hands deeper inside House's, tightening his grip on House's hips. Pressing their bodies together, sharing enough heat so that the cold air didn't matter. Foreman pushed forward another half-step, so that House could take some weight off his leg if he wanted, and lean on him. House was pinned against the car, his body slumped enough that Foreman had the height advantage for once. "In case you didn't notice," Foreman said, keeping his tone impatient, knowing otherwise he wouldn't be able to say this at all, "Marty didn't break up your relationship." He tipped his head forward and brushed his mouth across House's. Almost too lightly to feel, except that House had bitten him, and Foreman could feel the light throb of his pulse in his lip each time he kissed House. He slowly let his arms circle from House's hips to his lower back, and just as slowly, ran his tongue along House's bottom lip, before slipping inside his mouth.
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Foreman rolled his eyes at House defending Wilson. He didn't have quite as much faith--he figured Wilson would laugh his head off when he finally found out about them. Probably he'd accept it eventually, but there was bound to be some humiliation involved, even if it was only Wilson gaping at Foreman--and, for all he knew, at House too--after finding out he liked men. Foreman wasn't going to point that out, though. He didn't know if House had said the word relationship out loud before, but even if he had, it hadn't been like this. The way House was talking about it made it real in a way it hadn't been. House was telling him how he'd felt back in the restaurant. Telling him it mattered. Foreman mattered to him. This time the I'm sorry nearly made it out of Foreman's mouth, but before he could say it, House stalked forward one jerky step and yanked Foreman forward by his tie. Foreman hadn't been expecting it, and House pulled him off-balance, crashing them both into House's car. Foreman grabbed for House's hips, only partly to make sure House stayed upright. The kiss, after the way House had grabbed him, wasn't a surprise, and Foreman leaned into it. He grunted at the pain when House bit his lip, but he didn't ease up, meeting House's tongue and trying to pour some of his own frustration into the kiss, breathing harder. This was more than someone to do that with. For the first time, Foreman knew that House thought it was more, too. He still didn't know why House had been jerking him around for the last week, but in all probability, he'd never understand House.
Neither of them had done up their coats after leaving the restaurant, and Foreman pushed his hands deeper inside House's, tightening his grip on House's hips. Pressing their bodies together, sharing enough heat so that the cold air didn't matter. Foreman pushed forward another half-step, so that House could take some weight off his leg if he wanted, and lean on him. House was pinned against the car, his body slumped enough that Foreman had the height advantage for once. "In case you didn't notice," Foreman said, keeping his tone impatient, knowing otherwise he wouldn't be able to say this at all, "Marty didn't break up your relationship." He tipped his head forward and brushed his mouth across House's. Almost too lightly to feel, except that House had bitten him, and Foreman could feel the light throb of his pulse in his lip each time he kissed House. He slowly let his arms circle from House's hips to his lower back, and just as slowly, ran his tongue along House's bottom lip, before slipping inside his mouth.