The Prodigal Son (Chase)
The first time Gavin grins at him open-mouthed, the sharp contrast of the little pill on a pink tongue makes Chase shiver, and his first thought is his mum sleeping upstairs, wrapped in an impenetrable white fog by her own poison of choice. The kiss tastes strange, not entirely pleasant, but as Gavin’s lithe body wraps around him he forgets fear, guilt, and responsibility, sinking into a colourful frenzy of passionate high. And when Gavin pushes into him it feels like a second Annunciation as newfound faith curls his insides in a whirlwind of sweat, moans, and hot white semen.
***
When it all falls apart he cries for the first time since his father told him it was an unmanly thing to do and the pills watching him from the open envelope addressed to Gavin - his only goodbye before leaving - make the age-old Catholic guilt blossom in his chest.
The strict rules of seminary are a welcome change at first, cleansing his body and soul, filling him with heavy remorse even as chocolate eyes are watching him from behind a worn Bible. And he doesn’t see it coming until he’s found balls deep in a pliant body by Sister Margaret.
***
Following in his father’s footsteps feels like the worst failure of all - until he saves his first life: a young, successful banker with dull green eyes and a charming, empty smile.
It takes a surprisingly short time for them to get involved and soon Chase finds himself holding a lighter to her already marred skin.
Full lips open in ecstasy, eyes sparkle with need, moans of mixed pain and pleasure make him shiver in eager horror. Watching her writhe on the bed, longing for his gentle cruelty feels like breathing life into inanimate dust with a touch of his fingertips.
***
It took ages yet seemed to happen faster than a plane crashes into the ground, from teasing, over an accidental slip, to sex in a patient’s home. And before he knows it Chase finds himself clinging with all his might to this reluctant angel with redemption in her eyes and paradise in her kisses. The more she pulls back the fiercer he holds onto her, not prepared to lose this gift from a God he’s been trying to replace for years.
And it takes a dead dictator for him to see that she really has no wish to save him.
***
House is dead.
The words of Fate uttered in Cuddy’s voice over the phone as a hooker’s tongue circles the head of his cock.
Alcohol saves him from patients and surprisingly enough doesn’t get him sacked. They all tiptoe around him like he’s made of glass and he pays them back with the cruel truth about themselves.
House would be proud. Or maybe not.
The funeral is barely over when Cuddy offers him the job and he laughs her in the face but accepts, knowing that with House gone there’s really no other way than to become his own God.