mmom day #8 / House MD / "Ideal"
Woo-hoo, just under the line!
Title: Ideal
Author: Djinn
Fandom: House MD
Characters: Foreman
Rating: Mature
Disclaimer: I do not own these characters, no profit being made
Summary: Wee!Foreman
Word count: ~240
Author Notes: Both daasgirl and recrudescence requested Foreman wank, so blargh. Here it is. If it sucks, that because most of the time I don't picture Foreman as a sexual being. =P
When Eric was eleven, his idea of the ideal woman was Marcus' girlfriend Keisha. She was tall and statuesque, with long red nails and big, curly hair with a single blonde streak above her left eye. She had moved to the neighborhood from Tennessee, spoke with a faint Southern accent, and always called Eric 'honey'. Once or twice, Marcus let him tag along while he and Keisha went to a movie or out for a soda, and Eric hung on her every word the way she hung on Marcus' arm, all wide eyes and big smiles. On his twelfth birthday she brought him a half-gallon of chocolate milk wrapped in newspaper and left a stain of red lipstick on his cheek when she kissed him.
When Eric discovered masturbation, it was because of Keisha. He'd heard the sound of Marcus doing ... something late at night, something that caused him to breathe fast and grunt lowly, muffled by blankets and pillows, but he had never known what it was until he lay in bed that night, twelve years old, and thought of Keisha's red-painted lips puckering to press against his skin. He bit his lip and instinctively pressed his hand against his ... against him through his flannel pajamas. He was so young that he'd barely had a chance to slide his hand under the fabric before he was jerking and gasping and coming for the first time in his life.
Title: Ideal
Author: Djinn
Fandom: House MD
Characters: Foreman
Rating: Mature
Disclaimer: I do not own these characters, no profit being made
Summary: Wee!Foreman
Word count: ~240
Author Notes: Both daasgirl and recrudescence requested Foreman wank, so blargh. Here it is. If it sucks, that because most of the time I don't picture Foreman as a sexual being. =P
When Eric was eleven, his idea of the ideal woman was Marcus' girlfriend Keisha. She was tall and statuesque, with long red nails and big, curly hair with a single blonde streak above her left eye. She had moved to the neighborhood from Tennessee, spoke with a faint Southern accent, and always called Eric 'honey'. Once or twice, Marcus let him tag along while he and Keisha went to a movie or out for a soda, and Eric hung on her every word the way she hung on Marcus' arm, all wide eyes and big smiles. On his twelfth birthday she brought him a half-gallon of chocolate milk wrapped in newspaper and left a stain of red lipstick on his cheek when she kissed him.
When Eric discovered masturbation, it was because of Keisha. He'd heard the sound of Marcus doing ... something late at night, something that caused him to breathe fast and grunt lowly, muffled by blankets and pillows, but he had never known what it was until he lay in bed that night, twelve years old, and thought of Keisha's red-painted lips puckering to press against his skin. He bit his lip and instinctively pressed his hand against his ... against him through his flannel pajamas. He was so young that he'd barely had a chance to slide his hand under the fabric before he was jerking and gasping and coming for the first time in his life.