A/N: Okay, I know, I know. This site is all 'Hey, the children are looking. Don't write smut.' Well, I don't care right now. You guys are awesome, and awesome people don't report authors to sites for stupid little things like this.
Disclaimer: In a dream, I had them. Then I sold them because I needed money. Damn it.
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'Which one of these things is not like the others?', Chase thinks idly to himself as he reclines in one of the not-quite comfortable chairs of the diagnostic lounge. He's watching – but mostly listening – to Wilson's attempts at explaining to House that 'a property dispute has come up between him and Julie again, and at the rate it's been going, he won't be home 'til late, but he'll bring dinner home with him.'
Chase knows he's lying, and he knows that House knows Wilson's lying. In typical House fashion, however, he knocks his cane against Wilson's shin before nodding and wandering back to his office, presumably for drugs and music. Wilson's gaze follows House until the other makes it into his office, letting the door drift shut behind him. It's almost like a stage cue, in the sense that the second House's door clicks in its lock, Wilson turns and leaves in a rush. Glancing back up at the clock, Chase wonders where he's gone off to in such a hurry, because, after all, Chase won't even be at his house for another two hours yet – he's supposedly volunteering in the NICU department.
As he stands up, Chase looks quickly into House's office, finding the older man sitting in his chair, mouthing the lyrics to some song that Chase can't identify, mostly because he's never been that talented at lip reading. He's a firm believer that talking is one of the least useful things one can do with one's lips. Shaking his head to clear those thoughts away, Chase focuses back on House, who, somehow in the span of five seconds has gone from comfortable and dazed to staring at Chase with a glare that says, well okay, Chase doesn't know what that means either. He wonders if House knows about what's going on, and he figures that he must, because he's House after all, and House appears to know everything.
He barely makes it into the NICU unit before his pager goes off, sounding its annoying tune, which causes everyone to look in his general direction. Slightly embarrassed, he pulls the pager from its holder.
'Office. Your mother called. – House'
There are a million and a half reasons why Chase should just turn his pager off right now, and pretend that House doesn't even exist, let alone that he called him to his office – but right now, Chase can't be arsed to think up one of them. He walks over to one of the nurses and explains that House has requested his presence, and when he adds that one grin he does into the mix, she nods slightly and says that he doesn't have to work tonight, they've got enough people on staff.
Before his good luck runs out, Chase walks (being very careful not to run) back in the direction of House's office. Not bothering to knock, he walks in to find House in the same place he was before Chase left. Chase wasn't sure what he expected, but House just sitting there wasn't it.
'You know, I've always wondered what sex with a midget would be like.'
'Little Person', Chase corrects in his mind, but in reality, he just gives House a blank look, telling him with his body language that 'you called me here for this?'
'Oh, damn, that wasn't the question I was going to ask you. Your question of the night is…' and it is just like House to take a dramatic pause right here, leaving Chase's brain to fill in all the blanks he wants, and God, he wants many.
'That's right. Our topic of discussion tonight is those lips of yours. What do you use? Just obscene amounts of saline? Or are they so puffy and red because you just can't help but suck the cock of anyone who asks you to?'
It's lucky that Chase decided to sit down when House had began to talk, because he knows if he hadn't, there's no way he'd be as composed as he is right now. Not that he's very composed at all. He's sure that his face is a brilliant shade of red, and just a split second of conscious thought stopped him from opening his mouth in some form of shock.
'…and there's the stupid look you do so well.'
Chase lowers his eyes, and steadfastly says nothing. House continues on anyway, and the way he's rambling lets Chase know that he's certainly off his mind on some drug at the moment.
'I mean, I've heard all the rumours about you seminary boys. Especially the pretty ones like you. They couldn't have let you escape unscathed, did they? Did they teach you everything you know? I'm sure you know a lot.' Every logical bit of Chase's brain is yelling at him to get up and walk out of there right now – or at the very least, protest, exclaim that House is wrong, that he's not gay, after all, he slept with Cameron, didn't he? But he's not listening to those parts of his brain, not now. He still doesn't respond, and he knows that he's playing right into House's game now.
'You know that you can contribute to this conversation, Dr. Chase.'
'I, well, I don't know what you want me to say.'
'You could start by answering my questions. I don't know enough about any of my minions, let alone you.' The look House gives him tells Chase that he doesn't have any other option but to answer the questions House has presented him with.
'Yes, yes, okay? That what you want to hear? You want to hear about my days and nights of debauchery in the seminary, is that it? There's not much I can tell you really, although you are right, I did pick up a few tricks here and there.'
House doesn't say anything for a minute, and when he does, he's smirking. 'You really suck at sexy talk.'
The words slip out before he can stop them. 'You brought me here because you want to fuck me, yeah?'
House's grin widens almost imperceptibly. 'Nope.'
Suddenly Chase's heart is in his throat, and he's cursing his chronic ability to jump to false conclusions.
'If I'd brought you here to fuck you, I'd have said so. I would've also taken the time to grab some condoms, 'cause God only knows where you've been. Also, why would I have mentioned your lips if it was the other half of you I was interested in? It's a simple diagnosis, doctor.'
No more words need to be spoken. Chase is out of his chair and kneeling in front of House's chair before any more words can be spoken. He runs his hands gently up the legs of House's jeans, looking up at House to get permission to continue.
'I'm not playing your stupid games. Just get on with it.'
There we go.
Reaching quickly for the button on House's jeans, Chase tugs on them just enough so that he can get to the boxers underneath. Pressing his mouth over the bulge he finds there, Chase breathes softly, letting the warm air sift through the fabric in a constant tease. Lifting himself up a bit, he moves his head and slowly, tauntingly licks from root to tip, causing House to groan slightly. Continuing to flick his tongue teasingly, Chase brings one hand up and slowly pulls House's boxers down, and when he runs his lips across the underside of House's cock for the first time, it's not only House who has to suppress a moan.
He's done enough teasing, and lightly wraps a hand around House's cock, sucking just the head into his mouth, he flicks his tongue across the vein on the underside, and hums in his throat as House's hips jump slightly. Never being one to avoid getting to the point, Chase takes a deep breath through his nose, and relaxes his throat, taking inch by inch into his mouth until his nose is pressing up against House's pubic hair, and all of the sudden, there's a pressure on his head as House grabs tightly onto his hair and now this isn't Chase's game anymore.
House thrusts into his mouth with less force then Chase would've thought he'd use. Struggling to keep some control over the situation, Chase varies everything that he can. Sometimes he'll lick whatever his tongue can reach, and other times he'll groan and the vibrations are just right so that House will lose control for a second. Once he lightly dragged his teeth across, but a hand tightening even further in his hair stopped him from trying that again.
It's out of nowhere when House suddenly removes the hand from his hair, and places both hands on Chase's shoulders, giving him the leverage he needs to effectively push the younger man off of him.
Chase sits on the floor in a daze, unsure of what just happened. When he looks up, House glares at him, and Chase realises that the drugs have worn off. He stumbles to his feet and walks quickly out of the office without looking back.
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It's 7.15 when Chase parks his car in front of his condo, only to find Wilson leaning against his front door. This game is one he's a bit more familiar with.
They don't speak as Chase fumbles with his keys to open the door, and they continue to not-speak as Wilson shuts the door behind them and immediately slams Chase up against it, staring at him like he's a predator who's just found dinner.
Chase smiles, and that's it. Wilson takes a few steps back, and Chase follows, sinking down onto his knees when he's there. This time there isn't going to be any teasing, any fooling around. Wilson's fingers lace through Chase's hair, causing the Australian to wince as Wilson manages to grab onto the same clump of hair that House had grasped not even a half hour previous.
Wilson quickly unzips his pants, and freeing himself, he pushes Chase's head forwards until for the second time that night, Chase finds his nose pressed against pubic hair, and he's struggling to get enough air to his lungs.
There's no messing about here, Wilson's pace is rough and fast, and as much as Chase hates to admit it, this is exactly how he likes it.
In another stroke of bad luck, Wilson's mobile starts ringing and he untangles his fingers from Chase's hair to answer it. He glances down at the younger man, who looks back up at him for a second before going right back to what he was doing before.
'It's weird,' Chase thinks, how calm Wilson is on the phone, whoever he's talking to blissfully unaware that while they're mindlessly ranting away, Wilson's standing there watching one of his boyfriend's co-workers suck him off.
He should know better than to eavesdrop by now, but there's really no way that Chase can avoid listening in on this conversation.
'No, no, just relieving a bit of stress. Yeah, hah, exactly. Sure, I can do that. Kung pao chicken as always? Right, see you at home.'
It doesn't take Chase any time at all to figure out that it had been House on the other end of that phone, and some part of him knows that he should be feeling guilty, should be feeling rather like a whore, but that's the same part that was telling him to walk away from House, and so it continued to be ignored.
Wilson's hand was back on Chase's head and the pace was returned to the harsh one it was before the phone had distracted them. Before he knew it, Chase felt the twitching that signified that Wilson was about to come. He pushed his head forward, letting Wilson come in his mouth. Chase was also a firm believer in leaving no evidence behind.
As Wilson cleans himself up, he rests his hand on Chase's shoulder for a brief moment.
He continues to kneel on the floor as Wilson gathers whatever he's managed to misplace and walks to the door. As he opens the door, Wilson speaks for the first time. 'Have a good night, Chase.'
And there was the Wilson everyone knew. As Chase stretched and walked towards the bathroom to take care of himself, he compared both the men in his mind. He didn't know exactly what sort of relationship House and Wilson had, but whatever it was, it was certainly fucked up.
They were fucked up, he was fucked up. There wasn't an odd piece out afterall.
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Please review and make me feel like spending my Friday nights in front of the computer serves some purpose, hah. :P