House snapped his mouth closed, still trying to process this, when Foreman spoke. Yeah, I do. Finger me. Work me open. Fuck me. House blinked again, looking away as he swallowed around the nervous knot in his throat. It wasn't that the idea wasn't appealing--House already felt the stirrings of arousal just imagining it. But this had switched in a second from one direction to the other, and House had been preparing himself to deal with Foreman's 'revenge' in whichever form Foreman decided to dish it out. House hadn't expected this. For the first time, Foreman had done something entirely unpredictable, and House was still trying to catch up.

House squeezed Foreman's biceps before he looked back at Foreman's face. He didn't really have to ask now what Foreman thought this would solve. Prove that it mattered, that Foreman could trust him like this; House could see that. That's not what he thought Foreman wanted, but after all this, maybe it was. Maybe a message had gotten through, and this was Foreman's way of saying he heard it. House watched as he trailed one hand, fingers spread wide, from Foreman's shoulder, down his chest, and to the waist of his pants. He wasn't sure how often Foreman offered this to other guys he'd been with, and for a second, the imagined image of Nathan jumped into his head, and he wondered if Foreman had done that with him. Probably--House wasn't going to ask. It didn't matter. This mattered.

House stepped away from Foreman, but nodded as he did it, taking a few awkward steps to retrieve his cane and start for the bedroom.