Chase flushes, looking off to the side a little sheepishly as he bites his lip and shrugs his shoulders in response to the playful chastisement. He knows what House is referring to, even if he'd been hoping that his dance belt would hide the evidence with the way that House had held him close, let their bodies slide together as he landed on the floor, he's not surprised. He can't help it. Dancing with House is like riding a high, and there's something about how they move together and Chase just can't help himself. He smiles a little shyly, a slow blink of those lashes that frame his bright blues.

"And you're not?" He's trying to deflect, even if it's not much of a deflection at all. House being a pervert doesn't stop Chase from being the one that's hard. There's only a slight flicker of guilt, and he knows he should feel worse about getting so turned on over a man that isn't his boyfriend, but that will maybe come later. He just doesn't want this to stop, for House to think that he's gross or something, anything that stops the other man from holding onto him like this. Lifting him and letting him fly. He leans in again, slow, still up on pointe, and he skims his hands up against House's upper arms as he curls close into his space.

"I like dancing with you," he says softly, like it's some kind of defense, although it isn't. Because Chase doesn't just like dancing with him. He wants him, even if he's been trying to convince himself that he doesn't for a while now. He's with Brett, and while cheating is far from exceptional in the backstage drama of a ballet company, Chase isn't like that. He doesn't see himself like that. He's young, still a virgin, though that's a fact he doesn't advertise. Brett knows, but that's because they've been together for two months and still haven't had sex. He's understanding, nice to Chase, seems to care about him.

House is just... something he can't explain. Magnetic. Draws him in, so he was there in the doorway, even when he knew better.