House/Chase Fic
Title: Meant for a Calendar
Author: faelinn
Rating: NC-17
Warnings: Sex, language, 2nd person POV, foreshadowing for Finding Judas.
Timeline: Before Finding Judas.
Pairing: House/Chase
Disclaimer: They’re not mine.
Summary/Author’s Note: House likes to use Chase.
A/N: Argh, why did I write this? And why am I posting it? There’s a reason why I don’t usually write smut.... Anyway, be forewarned, House is kinda mean in this. After last week’s episode, I was wanting bastard!House fics quite terribly, and, since I didn’t want to hunt down any fics, I wrote one. Written in 2nd person (House) POV and completed in about 10-15 minutes, so excuse the suckiness. :D (Grammatical oddities like run-on sentences are intentional. If you see any others, like switching their and there, please tell me.)
Pushing Chase against the wall was easy, and it was still easy to hold him there, to stop his squirming with the weight of your body, and it’s nice to feel him like this, all helpless and needy and desperate in his own way. With Chase, it’s not like desperation on other people, where it’s all dirty and hot and stinking with passion. It’s not clean either, but it’s distinctly Chase, especially in the way that even the faint sheen of sweat that you lick from his neck tastes like nothing but sweet clarity and a little dab of salt, and the way he doesn’t really struggle is just him, too.
That’s your Chase, always behaving, always following along like your own personal puppy, and it feels good to control him like this, to know that every inch of him is obedience. Since that one time, since his betrayal, he knows better. With dogs, it takes a near eternity to train them into the appropriate mold, but Chase only took that once, and then he was yours.
And it feels good to know that, especially now when you’re pulling his pants down around his ankles, letting go of his wrists to unbuckle the tricky clasps of his belt, and he’s naked now, and so fucking beautiful that you almost fuck him there without waiting, almost taking him dry. You’re not even sure that you really care if it hurts, and some part of you thinks that seeing him hurting would just make it so much better.
It’s a sick thought, but you really don’t give a damn about what anyone might think. Besides, no one’s thinking here, not now, and Chase is gasping and making those softly harsh sounds that you like to hear so much. You let your hand stray, refusing to touch his cock, but you touch everywhere else twice as much to make up for that, fingers sliding along the soft flesh near his balls, running over the tight curve of his ass, tracing the line of his crack and rubbing your fingers harshly across the tight pucker hidden within. He bucks against you as each finger moves, stroking skin in constantly changing places, and it’s beautiful to see him this way, responsive and so fucking helpless.
Really, you want a picture, a big pin-up, maybe a calendar of Chase Sex Moments. You’d hang it up in your office and smile every time Cameron got that wide-eyed look of surprise on her face and laugh every time Foreman looked offended. Cuddy would tell you to take it down, but not listening to her was your favorite game already, so it wouldn’t make any difference.
Returning your attention to Chase, you let your hand run through his hair, gently stroking the strands. You can feel him pressing into the contact, yearning for the feeling. Tightening your grasp on his hair, you pull his head back, yanking him back until he is against the wall again, gasping and nearly choking as you lean in to kiss him.
He tastes slightly sour from the drinks, but there’s still a lingering taste of clean peppermint lurking in his mouth, a clean, sharp taste of Chase. You search his mouth with your tongue, kissing him until he struggles against you, barely able to breathe, and, then you just kiss him harder, still not stopping. Your eyes are open the entire time, and seeing him like this, wide-eyed and desperate, is beautiful. There’s a drop of sweat running down his cheek, and dark red blotches, your own bite marks, cover his neck in a painful trail leading down to his chest. Looking at him, you think that this would have to be Mr. November on your calendar of Chase Sex Moments.
And he’s naked and you’re not, and that feels right now, and it looks hot, and you really just want the lube so you can fuck him until he begs for you to stop. Better yet, you just want to fuck him now, no wait, but you’ve got some brains in your head still. No need to break the duckling yet.
You let go of him and walk away, leaving him slumped against the wall, barely able to stand and sucking in huge gasping breaths that you think your neighbors could probably hear. You hope they can, hope they realize that you’re about to fuck some pretty boy until he screams and wakes up their mewling little children. Fumbling at your dresser, you find the lube and the condoms, and you put the condom on right then and squeeze some lube on your hands, glancing over to watch Chase as you do. His hands are tracing the bite marks down his neck, exploring, and, with the way he’s half-standing, half-slumping, legs slightly spread, body flushed and cock erect, it’s obvious that this one would have to be Mr. July. Though really, since it’s the same guy in the calendar, maybe he can’t be Mr. Whatever Month, but now’s not the time to worry about the proper way to name the picture for each month. Now’s the time to walk over to Chase and push him hard against the wall and kiss him again just to make sure his lips keep that red, bitten look.
So, you do that, and then you kiss him some more, and you still don’t touch his cock because you know he can’t handle it right now, not without losing it. And, besides, you like to watch him squirm, and the way he rubs against you, desperate for friction, is just too sinfully perfect.
Letting your hands slide between his legs, you run your fingers over the cleft of his ass until they’re not just touching his ass, they’re in him, slick and invasive, and he’s practically sobbing against you, biting your shoulder as you push them in deeper, two fingers, then three, and he’s so noisy and so fucking hot, and then you can’t wait. Before you can think, you’ve turned him around, your fingers are gone, and your cock’s replacing them with one quick push. Chase shouts hoarsely as you thrust in and he pushes back against you, ass so tight and hot, and he’s just desperately seeking more.
And you give him more, fucking him hard, shoving your cock in so hard and so far that you’re afraid he’s going to break to pieces around you like, not glass, but like some sort of rusted, weakened metal that's just waiting for some hard pressure to tear it apart. But you’re not stopping, and he’s not asking you to stop, and you’re not sure that you’d really care if he did. Yet, with the way he’s moaning and making those fucking hot sounds, he’s not wanting anything that resembles the word ‘stop.’
It’s all just too fucking good, and he’s too hot, too tight, and then you’re coming in him, thrusting in shallowly as you do. For a few moments, you stay there, eyes slightly out-of-focus as you recover, and Chase is hard and needy with your spent cock still partially in his ass. Seeing that, you pull out and begin to walk away, pulling the condom off as you go.
“House,” Chase says in a voice that’s thready with need, and it’s not exactly begging but you like it anyway.
Moving toward him, you let your hand finally touch his cock for the first time that night and roughly begin to stroke him in a hard, sure rhythm. It’s just a few moments before he comes, and then he’s leaning against you, head resting against your shoulder. That’s too sweet for you, so you shove him away, turning to walk away again.
Glancing back, you can see him gathering up his clothes from where they lie on the floor, and it’s fun to see him like this, all vulnerable and naked while only your partially undone pants show any sign of your part in the sex. You grin, and he’s glaring now, trying to recover some dignity. Seeing him like that reminds you that some day you’ll push him too far, and he’ll snap.
One day, he’s not going to follow you blindly, but you think maybe that’ll be even more fun, seeing Chase with some real fight, some actual spirit, in him. And, who knows what tomorrow will bring? Maybe it’ll be the day, the day when your temper just cracks, and you finally think with your fists or...hell, your cane. No telling, and maybe he’ll finally stand up for himself.
You really think you’d like to see that.
A/N: So...umm...yeah. *embarrassed* I really shouldn’t write anything that involves sex....
Author: faelinn
Rating: NC-17
Warnings: Sex, language, 2nd person POV, foreshadowing for Finding Judas.
Timeline: Before Finding Judas.
Pairing: House/Chase
Disclaimer: They’re not mine.
Summary/Author’s Note: House likes to use Chase.
A/N: Argh, why did I write this? And why am I posting it? There’s a reason why I don’t usually write smut.... Anyway, be forewarned, House is kinda mean in this. After last week’s episode, I was wanting bastard!House fics quite terribly, and, since I didn’t want to hunt down any fics, I wrote one. Written in 2nd person (House) POV and completed in about 10-15 minutes, so excuse the suckiness. :D (Grammatical oddities like run-on sentences are intentional. If you see any others, like switching their and there, please tell me.)
Pushing Chase against the wall was easy, and it was still easy to hold him there, to stop his squirming with the weight of your body, and it’s nice to feel him like this, all helpless and needy and desperate in his own way. With Chase, it’s not like desperation on other people, where it’s all dirty and hot and stinking with passion. It’s not clean either, but it’s distinctly Chase, especially in the way that even the faint sheen of sweat that you lick from his neck tastes like nothing but sweet clarity and a little dab of salt, and the way he doesn’t really struggle is just him, too.
That’s your Chase, always behaving, always following along like your own personal puppy, and it feels good to control him like this, to know that every inch of him is obedience. Since that one time, since his betrayal, he knows better. With dogs, it takes a near eternity to train them into the appropriate mold, but Chase only took that once, and then he was yours.
And it feels good to know that, especially now when you’re pulling his pants down around his ankles, letting go of his wrists to unbuckle the tricky clasps of his belt, and he’s naked now, and so fucking beautiful that you almost fuck him there without waiting, almost taking him dry. You’re not even sure that you really care if it hurts, and some part of you thinks that seeing him hurting would just make it so much better.
It’s a sick thought, but you really don’t give a damn about what anyone might think. Besides, no one’s thinking here, not now, and Chase is gasping and making those softly harsh sounds that you like to hear so much. You let your hand stray, refusing to touch his cock, but you touch everywhere else twice as much to make up for that, fingers sliding along the soft flesh near his balls, running over the tight curve of his ass, tracing the line of his crack and rubbing your fingers harshly across the tight pucker hidden within. He bucks against you as each finger moves, stroking skin in constantly changing places, and it’s beautiful to see him this way, responsive and so fucking helpless.
Really, you want a picture, a big pin-up, maybe a calendar of Chase Sex Moments. You’d hang it up in your office and smile every time Cameron got that wide-eyed look of surprise on her face and laugh every time Foreman looked offended. Cuddy would tell you to take it down, but not listening to her was your favorite game already, so it wouldn’t make any difference.
Returning your attention to Chase, you let your hand run through his hair, gently stroking the strands. You can feel him pressing into the contact, yearning for the feeling. Tightening your grasp on his hair, you pull his head back, yanking him back until he is against the wall again, gasping and nearly choking as you lean in to kiss him.
He tastes slightly sour from the drinks, but there’s still a lingering taste of clean peppermint lurking in his mouth, a clean, sharp taste of Chase. You search his mouth with your tongue, kissing him until he struggles against you, barely able to breathe, and, then you just kiss him harder, still not stopping. Your eyes are open the entire time, and seeing him like this, wide-eyed and desperate, is beautiful. There’s a drop of sweat running down his cheek, and dark red blotches, your own bite marks, cover his neck in a painful trail leading down to his chest. Looking at him, you think that this would have to be Mr. November on your calendar of Chase Sex Moments.
And he’s naked and you’re not, and that feels right now, and it looks hot, and you really just want the lube so you can fuck him until he begs for you to stop. Better yet, you just want to fuck him now, no wait, but you’ve got some brains in your head still. No need to break the duckling yet.
You let go of him and walk away, leaving him slumped against the wall, barely able to stand and sucking in huge gasping breaths that you think your neighbors could probably hear. You hope they can, hope they realize that you’re about to fuck some pretty boy until he screams and wakes up their mewling little children. Fumbling at your dresser, you find the lube and the condoms, and you put the condom on right then and squeeze some lube on your hands, glancing over to watch Chase as you do. His hands are tracing the bite marks down his neck, exploring, and, with the way he’s half-standing, half-slumping, legs slightly spread, body flushed and cock erect, it’s obvious that this one would have to be Mr. July. Though really, since it’s the same guy in the calendar, maybe he can’t be Mr. Whatever Month, but now’s not the time to worry about the proper way to name the picture for each month. Now’s the time to walk over to Chase and push him hard against the wall and kiss him again just to make sure his lips keep that red, bitten look.
So, you do that, and then you kiss him some more, and you still don’t touch his cock because you know he can’t handle it right now, not without losing it. And, besides, you like to watch him squirm, and the way he rubs against you, desperate for friction, is just too sinfully perfect.
Letting your hands slide between his legs, you run your fingers over the cleft of his ass until they’re not just touching his ass, they’re in him, slick and invasive, and he’s practically sobbing against you, biting your shoulder as you push them in deeper, two fingers, then three, and he’s so noisy and so fucking hot, and then you can’t wait. Before you can think, you’ve turned him around, your fingers are gone, and your cock’s replacing them with one quick push. Chase shouts hoarsely as you thrust in and he pushes back against you, ass so tight and hot, and he’s just desperately seeking more.
And you give him more, fucking him hard, shoving your cock in so hard and so far that you’re afraid he’s going to break to pieces around you like, not glass, but like some sort of rusted, weakened metal that's just waiting for some hard pressure to tear it apart. But you’re not stopping, and he’s not asking you to stop, and you’re not sure that you’d really care if he did. Yet, with the way he’s moaning and making those fucking hot sounds, he’s not wanting anything that resembles the word ‘stop.’
It’s all just too fucking good, and he’s too hot, too tight, and then you’re coming in him, thrusting in shallowly as you do. For a few moments, you stay there, eyes slightly out-of-focus as you recover, and Chase is hard and needy with your spent cock still partially in his ass. Seeing that, you pull out and begin to walk away, pulling the condom off as you go.
“House,” Chase says in a voice that’s thready with need, and it’s not exactly begging but you like it anyway.
Moving toward him, you let your hand finally touch his cock for the first time that night and roughly begin to stroke him in a hard, sure rhythm. It’s just a few moments before he comes, and then he’s leaning against you, head resting against your shoulder. That’s too sweet for you, so you shove him away, turning to walk away again.
Glancing back, you can see him gathering up his clothes from where they lie on the floor, and it’s fun to see him like this, all vulnerable and naked while only your partially undone pants show any sign of your part in the sex. You grin, and he’s glaring now, trying to recover some dignity. Seeing him like that reminds you that some day you’ll push him too far, and he’ll snap.
One day, he’s not going to follow you blindly, but you think maybe that’ll be even more fun, seeing Chase with some real fight, some actual spirit, in him. And, who knows what tomorrow will bring? Maybe it’ll be the day, the day when your temper just cracks, and you finally think with your fists or...hell, your cane. No telling, and maybe he’ll finally stand up for himself.
You really think you’d like to see that.
A/N: So...umm...yeah. *embarrassed* I really shouldn’t write anything that involves sex....