Chase’s reaction is electric. House had intended the grope to jolt him into changing, into realizing that to dance Odile he needs to tap into his sexuality, that he needs to feel it, use it, flaunt it… but that’s not what’s happening. Chase is reacting like he’s starving for touch, like he just can’t get enough. He’s still hard - not hard again, but still hard - groaning as he’s pulled back against House. He moves as he’s guided, back against House, pressing the firm swell of his ass back against House’s hips. Chase is squirming desperately and breathing hard and House isn’t capable of fighting against his own reaction. He’s getting hard, the more that Chase moves against him, and this… this isn’t how this is supposed to go at all. He’d intended to let go after a few seconds and see if Chase was any better at dancing the seduction, but he couldn’t just let go of him with the way he’s acting like he’s starving for touch.

“…you’re fucking desperate for it, aren’t you?”

House’s exhales a shaky breath against Chase’s ear that betrays the smile on his face, and now that hand rubs its way up from between his legs, feeling its way up the length of his cock through the layers of tights and dance belt, the heel of his hand dragging up and then back down while the other hand holds tight against his hip, keeps him close, guides him to keep grinding back on him.

“…just can’t get enough, can you…” he accuses him openly, and he’s got a sudden urge to lower his mouth to his neck but he resists, chews at his lower lip for a moment and murmurs, “You’re either a virgin or a slut… and there’s no way you’re a virgin…” he just can’t be. Not with how he’s reacting now, not with how young and gorgeous he is, dating Brett, living in NYC… there’s just no way he’s gotten this far without getting fucked.

“You shouldn’t have any problem dancing Odile…” there’s an unspoken what’s your excuse? and a not very subtle accusation that Chase is a little slut.