Foreman could see definite advantages to keeping hold of House's wrists--he didn't exactly relish the idea of House being free to poke him again, for one, and for another, like this he could manhandle House however he liked. That idea made him feel warmer, his heart thudding just a hint faster. It felt like getting his control back, after House had been the one pushing him around in bed. The fact that he'd shut House up in the end, holding House down, wasn't quite the same. Foreman was pretty damn sure he'd shown more than he'd wanted to, in the end, and he didn't know what House really thought of that. Other than House had said next time, pay attention--so presumably he wanted to do it again, and he liked making Foreman react like that--make him focus on what House was doing. Foreman wasn't quite ready to deal with that idea, and if he could assert himself instead, then he'd take that option.
Better than holding on to House, though, was showing him that Foreman was letting him go. Foreman opened his hands ostentatiously, lifting his arms in a half-shrug. He turned back to his chopping as if he didn't think House standing right there was a danger to him or to the food. He kept his hips against the counter, though, as a safety precaution against House going for his crotch. "Like you ever take me seriously," he said, with a tinge of sarcasm. House's default position was that any word out of Foreman's mouth was moronic until proven otherwise, but that didn't bother him particularly, since House didn't even give most people the chance to show they weren't idiots. Foreman at least had the benefit of the doubt on that score most days. House liked arguing with him and proving--to himself, at least--that Foreman was wrong. And there were times when House took Foreman's suggestions in a differential, or Foreman maneuvered him into agreeing to something Cuddy wanted, and that was enough for him.
Foreman dumped the last of the vegetables off the cutting board into the frying pan, and opened the package of pork chops, starting to slice them thinly. "Rice cooker's in there," he said, pointing to the cupboard on the other side of the stove. It was more likely that House would scoff at him for stating the obvious than he'd take it as a suggestion to help. House wouldn't take orders and Foreman doubted he'd wander off to watch TV if he could annoy Foreman instead, so it was at least worth a shot.
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timeasmymeasure
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Date: 2009-05-08 02:09 am (UTC)Better than holding on to House, though, was showing him that Foreman was letting him go. Foreman opened his hands ostentatiously, lifting his arms in a half-shrug. He turned back to his chopping as if he didn't think House standing right there was a danger to him or to the food. He kept his hips against the counter, though, as a safety precaution against House going for his crotch. "Like you ever take me seriously," he said, with a tinge of sarcasm. House's default position was that any word out of Foreman's mouth was moronic until proven otherwise, but that didn't bother him particularly, since House didn't even give most people the chance to show they weren't idiots. Foreman at least had the benefit of the doubt on that score most days. House liked arguing with him and proving--to himself, at least--that Foreman was wrong. And there were times when House took Foreman's suggestions in a differential, or Foreman maneuvered him into agreeing to something Cuddy wanted, and that was enough for him.
Foreman dumped the last of the vegetables off the cutting board into the frying pan, and opened the package of pork chops, starting to slice them thinly. "Rice cooker's in there," he said, pointing to the cupboard on the other side of the stove. It was more likely that House would scoff at him for stating the obvious than he'd take it as a suggestion to help. House wouldn't take orders and Foreman doubted he'd wander off to watch TV if he could annoy Foreman instead, so it was at least worth a shot.