It's all awkward at this point, and standing bent over the bed and over Chase like this in the wake of fucking and beating him has his leg aching to lay down, to relax, to stop supporting weight and being forced to move. Still, he's careful as he unties Chase, knows that it's not just his ass that's sore, but his wrists, his arms, sore where the rope rubbed at his skin, where he might have bruises in the morning.
Completely untied, Chase reaches out for him, and House lets him but looks at the bed, assesses the situation - Chase is too close to this edge of the bed for him to join him, and while he might normally take great pleasure in making him move, he's not now.
"Hang on," he says, fingers skimming over Chase's arm, and he makes his way around the bed, limp heavier than usual, and climbs in the far side. He struggles his way closer across the mess of sheets towards Chase, and he pulls a blanket up over him. He may not be cold yet, but he will be once he really starts to come down, once the sweat on his skin cools in the air.
This isn't something they've done before. But then, neither is impact play and kinky bondage sex. Still, for House, for whatever reason, this feels more wrong than fucking and beating him. Maybe it's because he's got the time and mental distance to really think about it. He's not caught up in the moment, in giving Chase what he needs and being wrapped up in the energy of it. They're in his bed together. That's different than standing in the bedroom together, than fucking in the middle of the room. It's intimate, but it's necessary. It doesn't matter to House that whatever this is may not be a relationship and may never happen again. It doesn't matter that, tomorrow, he's going to do everything in his power to lord this over Chase at work. All that matters is that he's opened something up in Chase, put his thumb on something that needed to come out and brought it to the surface and left it raw and angry and now there's work still to be done. He can't just let him go, or take him home. He's got to let Chase come down first. Really come down, come back into his skin and feel whole and okay again before he considers bringing him home.
They're facing each other, and he scoots a little closer, until their legs are touching, and he throws an arm around Chase's shoulders and hauls him in closer, cuddling him up against his chest because he can tell from the way he reached for him the second his arms were free that he needs contact. Maybe he doesn't usually like to cuddle - maybe he does - but he is now.
"C'mere," he says softly, talking mostly into Chase's hair.
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Completely untied, Chase reaches out for him, and House lets him but looks at the bed, assesses the situation - Chase is too close to this edge of the bed for him to join him, and while he might normally take great pleasure in making him move, he's not now.
"Hang on," he says, fingers skimming over Chase's arm, and he makes his way around the bed, limp heavier than usual, and climbs in the far side. He struggles his way closer across the mess of sheets towards Chase, and he pulls a blanket up over him. He may not be cold yet, but he will be once he really starts to come down, once the sweat on his skin cools in the air.
This isn't something they've done before. But then, neither is impact play and kinky bondage sex. Still, for House, for whatever reason, this feels more wrong than fucking and beating him. Maybe it's because he's got the time and mental distance to really think about it. He's not caught up in the moment, in giving Chase what he needs and being wrapped up in the energy of it. They're in his bed together. That's different than standing in the bedroom together, than fucking in the middle of the room. It's intimate, but it's necessary. It doesn't matter to House that whatever this is may not be a relationship and may never happen again. It doesn't matter that, tomorrow, he's going to do everything in his power to lord this over Chase at work. All that matters is that he's opened something up in Chase, put his thumb on something that needed to come out and brought it to the surface and left it raw and angry and now there's work still to be done. He can't just let him go, or take him home. He's got to let Chase come down first. Really come down, come back into his skin and feel whole and okay again before he considers bringing him home.
They're facing each other, and he scoots a little closer, until their legs are touching, and he throws an arm around Chase's shoulders and hauls him in closer, cuddling him up against his chest because he can tell from the way he reached for him the second his arms were free that he needs contact. Maybe he doesn't usually like to cuddle - maybe he does - but he is now.
"C'mere," he says softly, talking mostly into Chase's hair.