Chase shakes, can feel it down to the tips of his fingers, the shivers that run over his skin as his orgasm runs through him slowly. When it all finally stops, the world finally stopping, stilling long enough for Chase to suck in a long, shuddering breath, he can't find the words to speak. It was too much, too good, and he's limp and boneless in the restraints. The suspension the only thing keeping him from being a puddle on the floor. He becomes aware, slowly, of the fact that House is still holding onto him, an arm tight across his hips.
A murmur of protest hums on his lips when House pulls back, withdrawing from Chase's body, and he knows it's necessary, but it's also the last thing in the world that he wants. He knows, logically, that they have to undo the suspension and move somewhere else. But he wants to just stay in this moment. This is the part where it's good. The quiet, the pleasure as the orgasm and the intensity washes through him. Of course, this is House, and that makes this different. Chase doesn't even know what to expect from here. For now, he just lets himself focus on House as he moves, the sound of fabric and the zipper of his jeans.
There's that brief moment when he's not entirely sure that House will take him down. That maybe this is the punchline he was waiting for at first, but no. House starts undoing the knots, releasing his left leg and guiding it down to the floor. Chase doesn't really have any strength in his limb, and it tingles. There's obvious, red imprints in his skin, the rope leaving clear marks that Chase is going to have to try and hide later.
He tries to lean into House, but he's so uncoordinated in the moment that it's awkward, the support more of House's arm on him than his own ability. When he has two feet on the floor, the fact that he's not actually standing yet is fairly obvious. "Greg," he whispers softly, a flutter of eyelashes as he can finally manage it. "Thank you," he said it before, but he means it maybe even more now. It was perfect, is perfect, and even if House knows, Chase can't help the urge to say it.
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A murmur of protest hums on his lips when House pulls back, withdrawing from Chase's body, and he knows it's necessary, but it's also the last thing in the world that he wants. He knows, logically, that they have to undo the suspension and move somewhere else. But he wants to just stay in this moment. This is the part where it's good. The quiet, the pleasure as the orgasm and the intensity washes through him. Of course, this is House, and that makes this different. Chase doesn't even know what to expect from here. For now, he just lets himself focus on House as he moves, the sound of fabric and the zipper of his jeans.
There's that brief moment when he's not entirely sure that House will take him down. That maybe this is the punchline he was waiting for at first, but no. House starts undoing the knots, releasing his left leg and guiding it down to the floor. Chase doesn't really have any strength in his limb, and it tingles. There's obvious, red imprints in his skin, the rope leaving clear marks that Chase is going to have to try and hide later.
He tries to lean into House, but he's so uncoordinated in the moment that it's awkward, the support more of House's arm on him than his own ability. When he has two feet on the floor, the fact that he's not actually standing yet is fairly obvious. "Greg," he whispers softly, a flutter of eyelashes as he can finally manage it. "Thank you," he said it before, but he means it maybe even more now. It was perfect, is perfect, and even if House knows, Chase can't help the urge to say it.