House hadn't expected Foreman to get it that fast. Not exactly cave. He wasn't asking Foreman to give in to anything, just get it through his head that his leg and his pills weren't Foreman's business. House thought he'd have to argue his way into it, and tilted his head, not letting his surprise show on his face--he was pretty sure he managed to make it look more like he was interested, not exactly surprised--as he looked back at Foreman. When Foreman pushed him back, House felt his left foot slip a little, not enough to make him fall, but enough to make him reach for Foreman's arm and squeeze tightly. Enough to make his eyes widen and breathing catch. Lucky he didn't suck down some of the water on the way.

He didn't want to resist too hard and make himself fall, so he let Foreman steady him, looked back at him when Foreman spoke. House had known Foreman had been paying attention. Foreman had looked like he hadn't been focused on much of anything else at the time when House had been lying on top of him, in him, fucking him. But House had lashed out here, and he wasn't about to take it back. Still, it was interesting that Foreman was saying it.

"Good," House said, just as shortly, but acknowledging what Foreman said, keeping his gaze steady on Foreman's and keeping his head still. No need to say anything more than that. Tackled everything he'd wanted to clear up pretty fast and that was good enough, as long as he was understood. House knew he wasn't going to get very far unless Foreman backed off, so he waited, holding on to Foreman's arm and hoping his feet stayed under him. But just in case Foreman was so focused on drowning himself in his eyes, House nodded up toward the spray and said, "Kinda came in here to wash up, too."