Okay, so there'd be no reminiscing about last night. Well, not every morning could be like yesterday, spending time just touching each other, washing. Foreman knew well enough that Amber felt hurried, but he wasn't going to let that dent his mood. Her place, her alarm clock. He already knew she wouldn't let herself be late. Amber was the one in the middle of a weeks-long job interview, and Foreman might roll his eyes at House, but he did respect Amber for staying keyed up and perfect for that long. He wasn't usually a morning person, either, but he wasn't under the same stress as she was, so he wouldn't get in her way. He'd keep up with her and be helpful as far as he could be, and if she snapped at him, he'd just shut his mouth. He turned his face into the water, and then reached for the soap, scrubbing himself down quickly and efficiently. If it had been up to him, he'd spend a few minutes picturing last night--not like he needed to jerk off, but for God's sake, with inspiration like that, it would've been nice to have the option. But he wouldn't linger around to relax. Just like a quick shower after a workout just so that he wouldn't feel sticky climbing into his clothes, and leave imagining Amber's cries when he'd gone down on her for some other time.
After rinsing off, Foreman turned off the taps and reached for the only towel that was left. Amber had taken the bigger one, leaving him with not much more than a hand towel. Enough to dry himself, mostly, but not enough to tuck around his hips. He smirked to himself, even though it couldn't have been deliberate. If he knew where her linen closet was, he would've grabbed himself another. Instead, he hung up the towel again when its usefulness had run out, and approached the sink just enough to squeeze toothpaste onto his toothbrush and wet it enough to start brushing. With Amber at the mirror, putting on her makeup, he wasn't going to get close enough to risk losing a limb. He sneaked a few peeks at her reflection, and otherwise studiously brushed his teeth like he wasn't doing anything as crass as checking her out while she was in a rush.
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After rinsing off, Foreman turned off the taps and reached for the only towel that was left. Amber had taken the bigger one, leaving him with not much more than a hand towel. Enough to dry himself, mostly, but not enough to tuck around his hips. He smirked to himself, even though it couldn't have been deliberate. If he knew where her linen closet was, he would've grabbed himself another. Instead, he hung up the towel again when its usefulness had run out, and approached the sink just enough to squeeze toothpaste onto his toothbrush and wet it enough to start brushing. With Amber at the mirror, putting on her makeup, he wasn't going to get close enough to risk losing a limb. He sneaked a few peeks at her reflection, and otherwise studiously brushed his teeth like he wasn't doing anything as crass as checking her out while she was in a rush.