Date: 2009-04-15 09:05 pm (UTC)
Foreman closed his eyes, feeling warm and drowsy and wrung-out. He didn't really expect a response from House, and he was only half-listening to the sound of their breathing, the gradual slowing of his heart beating in his ears. He flinched and opened his eyes when he felt House touch his face--cool, wet, and slippery, and by House's grin and the hint of his dimples, Foreman knew exactly what it was. He gave a disgusted grimace. "That's great, House," he muttered, not bothered enough to actually move. It would wash off, anyway, and he wanted to shower--he could feel the slickness of the lube between his thighs, as well as drying sweat on the rest of his body. House would probably love it if Foreman simply told him to knock it off and didn't fight back. Well, to hell with that. Foreman brushed his right hand up House's chest, smearing some of his own semen, and quickly returned the favour, leaving a whitish streak on House's cheek.

Before House could retaliate further, Foreman rolled away from him and sat up on his knees, smirking. He saw the bottle of lube in the sheets--which were a disaster again, and this time more his fault than House's--and tossed it back into his drawer. He was almost surprised to see House's Vicodin in the drawer, and the ordinariness of the routine, to at least offer House his pills after they'd had sex, made something like discomfort settle in the pit of his stomach. Foreman pushed the feeling aside, and dropped the pill bottle beside House without comment. "I'm going to shower," he said, standing up and heading for the bathroom.

It was getting late, but he was suddenly starving. He shook his head at himself. That wasn't a shock. They'd both walked out on dinner. Foreman bit back a smile, wondering if Marty would bill him for the two meals he'd been stuck with. He paused in the doorway and glanced back at House, not quite sure how to phrase his offer without bringing up the whole evening again. It was hopeless. House was probably already thinking about it. "I'll cook something after," Foreman said, keeping his look neutral. If Wilson had dropped House off here--and Foreman couldn't think of any other way he could have gotten here, considering Foreman had given Wilson House's keys--then House was stuck unless he wanted to call a cab or stay until tomorrow. Foreman would leave it up to House as to how he wanted to react, whether he'd stay. He'd given up enough of himself tonight without adding that he didn't want to see House walk out. He swung the bathroom door most of the way shut, blocking out House's first reaction, and started the shower.
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Wooed For Years

May 2009

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