The Right Thing
A/N: This teensy snippet is taken from a longer part that I published on LiveJournal in German ("Edel sei der Mensch"). It's the first time of HousexChase in my epic.
Chase has left House to reflect on his former professional career, trying to become a priest. House, who finds himself unable to cope with his departure, begins to drown his dismay in alcohol and Vicodin-abuse. Wilson is temporarily staying at his place to check on him.
There's also a clue that Chase had been raped not long ago – I didn't publish that part anywhere for I find it rather dreadful (and a bloody chestnut) in retrospective. Anyway, this is the way I imagined them to have their first *real* sexual contact after the events…
A faint light came through the door, which was opened cautiously and then immediately closed. His expert Foreman could not have given a more professional approach.
The intruder was slender, otherwise the door would have remained open for longer.
House wondered what to do. Pretending to be sound asleep and hope that he didn't notice him? Sounding the alarm, pull the phone from down under the blanket and call the police? Or try to catch him alone? However, he did not see whether he was armed. With a bullet in his head, his physical superiority wouldn't be of much efficiency.
The burglar moved swiftly through the jammed apartment, just as if he'd already had the chance on a previous visit.
Given the silhouette that emerged shortly in front of the brighter window, House's concern vanished into oblivion. Apparently he had no weapon on him, and was smaller than House himself.
Finally the man sat down on the stool in front of the piano and flipped the lid up and down.
"House? You're awake?"
Chase! It was Chase!
"Yes", he whispered, throwing back the blanket and got up from the couch. As he limped across the room, the boy rose. His eyes were fixed on him, and yet he looked nervous. His fingers, placed at the sides on his hips, occasionally clenched into fists. He flinched when House switched on the lamp on the piano.
"Do you want me to play?"
He had done it many times in the past. The songs, jazz or classical, had always been a solace and distraction to Chase.
He shook his head and swallowed hard.
"You'll wake up Wilson. I'm only here because I wanted to see you."
He couldn't control himself much longer. Desperately, he threw himself into House's arms.
"I've made a terrible mistake. These - these people at the seminary - they're saints. I'll never get there, and I'm not sure if I want to. What should I do now?"
House directed him backwards, heaving him upon the piano.
"I can't help you", he said as he put his arms carefully around him, recalling his unfounded accusation that hit him more than Chase would ever know.
You're the devil. You're turning me into someone I never wanted to be, and I'm too weak to resist.
There was, however, still magic between them.
His loins tingled.
Chase's cheek pressed against his shoulder as he wrapped his forearms under his arm pits to have his hands rest on his shoulder blades.
"It was your decision. I'm not meddling anymore. It's nothing personal. Just proving a point."
"Play", he begged. "Please."
Despite his words, he made no move to let go, cherishing the close, and long lacked physical contact just like he did.
House caressed his cheekbones with drunken kisses, making his way to the delicate skin beneath the eye, trailing from the crescent-shaped scar to his half-open, purdy lips. God, he had missed those lips.
"Stay with me. It will be back to normal."
"You won't stop drinking", Chase muttered. "My mother didn't..."
"I would", he promised, and lowered his face into Chase's sweet-smelling hair; he literally inhaled it by taking a deep breath.
But was it the truth? He had drunk himself almost every night in a DT since Chase had left him. Medically speaking, it might not be so simple to ditch the habit, especially not for a prone-to-addiction-person like he was.
Chase said nothing more. He snuggled up to House, so close as if to merge with him. And nothing better could just happen to House. He reciprocated the almost fervent pressure, while Chase dangled his legs.
"Play", he repeated ambiguously. And House did, laid him down on the piano, on the wing of the instrument, and bent over him.
Chase responded to his attempt with a comfortable moan as House yanked his sweater and T-shirt with two handles over his head. He was still wearing the crucifix. It was located on the shimmering skin of the reactor pit.
"Okay?" he raucously asked in his ear, his hands fumbled on the fly of Chase's jeans. Good Heavens, he could take him as he was, lying right there with his pelvis just slightly raised, without any anatomic obstruction. "I'll stop when you feel insecure. Or when you cry out 'Wilson'."
Judging from the bulge under his waistline, it was too late. He would spoil the piano. His pants, at least.
"Go ahead." Breathing heavily, Chase reached untenable for a score on the piano, crumpling the sheet of paper. His other hand clenched as if in a spasm. "'s... good. I'm not afraid. "
He was. His unsteady hands and the slurring pronunciation were telling.
"Sssh. It's alright. Everything's fine. Keep your arms around me."
It hurt to see him under so much stress, but at the same time it was an incredibly turn-on.
As soon as he'd embrace him, his hands would be quiet and he would feel safer. It was familiar to both of them by now. Chase had turned him into an expert in hugging during their living together.
"We have a bit of fun. We just play. Okay? Relax."
"Okay..."
Anything but relaxed or innocent he rubbed his boyish torso against him. It was just that he noticed that Chase became a little calmer in the process. Like a trusting child who had fallen asleep on the shoulder of his father's.
Initially, it confused him, but there was the clear wish to proximity, which was expressed in longing sounds that he subdued into House's T-shirt.
For a fleeting moment Wilson crossed his mind who was sleeping next door in the bedroom.
Hopefully he would be able to control himself and not wake him with a fervent cry of joy.
The warm, soft lips searched for his own mouth in a fever, opened willingly under his concealed aggressiveness. His mouth tasted of bitter herbs, salt and lemon and after Chase he had already met once he physically responded to House. Spicy and hot. He wanted more of it. More. Just a bit.
His tongue slipped into exciting depths.
If he had been able to, he would have tasted that beautiful mouth piece by piece. And then regretted that he had eaten it.
For his own sake, he backed away before he would have fainted with happiness, and today the sensual traits of the boy's were almost too much to put up with. The taste in his mouth should be enough for now.
Chase, however, fidgeted restlessly. It was not enough to just have his hands trailed over his body in silent awe.
All of a sudden he felt a stretched leg resting over his right shoulder. The other one was bent between the two men. The grey sneaker suggested gently challenging, yet uncontrollably plunges against House's abdomen.
He only became aware of his intention when Chase's right leg stretched out over his other shoulder, before he let both his legs sideways down, stroking House's hips in an almost lascivious gesture. His pants he would have pulled down quickly, and just as quickly, the slender, pliant legs would also be back where they belonged, if he wanted it. To have sex with him.
His whole body was shaking with anticipation as he undressed him like in a trance. After that, he drew him closer and stifled a sigh on Chase's chest.
The strained abdominal muscles contracted under him, and House put his hand soothingly on the smooth, flat tummy. He could hardly breathe, could not believe his fortune.
Chase had his head turned to the side now to avoid his gaze.
"It's not an offer, is it?"
"If you want me to..." His voice sounded anxious and excited nonetheless. As if he was at the verge of crying.
"Fucking the daylights out of you is not the most important thing for me", House said, stroking Chase's face which was wet. The ordeal he went through because of him was not in his will. "Only if you care. If you're sure. I want you with me, not hurt you. It's perfect the way it is, really. I don't miss anything with you. I'm glad you're back..."
"I want it to happen", Chase insisted. "I want it to."
He gently put Chase's right leg over his shoulder, feeling the muscular tendons close to him. Aroused tremors made the bright, silky-feeling fluff on his thighs vibrate. From the bottom up to his buttocks, he drew circles into the sensitive, soft and yet firm skin.
The young man shivered in his unequivocal embrace while House was willing to let befuddle all of his senses with Chase's presence.
He sensed blazing sensuality, salty sweat and a flimsy tartness.
With a sharp hiss Chase caught his breath as House's finger went for his crack, further down to the silky entrance. He cramped by the touch, but didn't move. It was as if he was petrified under his spell.
So tight. So close. So... virginal.
He would tear him apart, no doubt, but oddly enough it was the thought of it that stimulated him even more, though he intended nothing of the sort.
His erection was aching hard. In order to gain relief, House hastily opened the drawstring of his pajama with Chase gradually getting used to the feel of his excitement as House's cock slowly slid up and down without putting pressure unto him.
Chase let out a fairly pleased laughter, a noise that sounded exceptionally provocative and inspiring, because he hadn't heard anything like that out of his mouth before. It sounded… well, sexy.
It was paradise. He could have died at that moment and wouldn't mind.
Quivering with endorphins, Chase's body pulled him inside and yearned for more. Once again, he wrapped his leg around his waist, tugging him nearer.
He grabbed House's hands, intertwined the powerful fingers with his and gave him the courage to venture further into something that he was overcome with a force that almost made him lose consciousness.
It forced upon him the association of a pristine garden he was approved to take pleasure in its natural resources, and remaining in them. In a hurry you mustn't linger. You have to stay and savor the benefit of the unique beauty it has to offer; not messing with it.
At the thought that they had done it before, tears streamed down his face. They were tears of grief for Chase's first cruel encounter to being taken by a man, but mainly tears of bittersweet happiness for himself.
Quite slowly, he began to thrust into him, and Chase started to underline the gentle, hypnotic motion with tiny Ah-ah-sounds, as he vigorously clutched the firm flesh of his buttocks, all set to merge with him. Vanish into him.
The experience was so new, so unbelievably valuable.
Chase was probably still as churned as him, but his willingness, the desire to have it be special, the fulfillment for which he longed and due to which he had returned, it deserved House's awareness in full. Without unnecessary pain, without the fear and humiliation that he already had gone through.
He had to be careful, even though it was hard not to pounce on the slender body that was ready to accommodate him, shining like a celestial invitation on the black piano.
He went a bit deeper and felt his restrain to be paid off: it gave Chase security to some extent. After the instinctive physical reflex that he patiently broke in stages, Chase was moist and throbbing and smooth inside and out.
Soaking wet with House's saliva and both of their sweat he was. And oh so damn beautiful. Just like a precious painting. Like an Ancient Greek statue in flesh and bone, blood and nerves.
Heat emerged inside House's stomach which was followed by a sudden bliss that surrounded him like a blanket of velvet. Like one returned home from a long chilly winter walk with a cup of mulled wine waiting at the fireplace.
Step by step the creeps got to his arms, back, legs and his scalp. There was no fiery wantonness, as he always had expected. It was better. Much, much better.
Chase kept down his volume. He just gave a sigh now and then, which grew into a pleasurable whimper as House rocked him back and forth with a quietly swing of his body. Gentle as tending him to sleep.
The expression on his face was half-ecstatic, half-dreamy. There was no hint of fear or pain.
"Okay?" he assured himself, although the elation of Chase was more than visible.
For him as the active part, the passive partner's feelings were never easy to fathom, but he wanted Chase to feel the comfort and satisfaction of their first time more than he wanted his own, although he could not complain in this regard. Chase was a natural.
After the first, breathless horror at the previously unknown sensation it began to sparkle in his eyes. He looked so young, so stunned and serene as he had never seen him before. He had to take a closer look to make sure it was Chase.
"How does it feel?" Absurd question. Totally stupid, but he had to know to be safe.
"I had... always been scared... but with you it's nothing to be afraid of."
"That's the way it should be", he said, shocked by his own empathy.
Finally, he held him tight, standing under an intense physical tension that had built up. Should he? Could he? It was almost too late to withhold.
Chase helped him. House felt his unyielding muscles go pliable under a deep pant.
There was no holding back to any further extent, and he came with a relieved grunt, pouring his semen into him.
Wherever.
He wasn't capable to be bothered about anything anymore, collapsing over him, zoned out by his orgasm.
He had not often thought about fucking Chase, but if he had allowed this daring thought, it had formed into the back of his mind into thunder and lightning flashing up. It had been different in reality, even though he wasn't sure if this actually was reality or a hallucination.
Without warning, he started to sob, because it had been so wonderful, more striking than he had dreamed of for both of them, and because Chase had been so bold to make the first move. More than that, he obviously did enjoy it.
Chase showed a twitching smile as his eyes briefly locked with his. Carefully but still trembling, his fingertips wiped away the tears from his face.
He was crying indeed and was not even ashamed of it.
He did the right thing.