God, it feels like he could get Chase off just like this, just touching him through his tights and grinding against his ass. The boy is shaking, breathless and whining as House gropes him thoroughly, rocking back against him. House knows that when he rolls up on his toes to press back he almost has to feel that he’s hard, too. He’s so sure he’s right, so certain that Chase is just what he’d pegged him ass, incredibly talented and incredibly whorish, until there’s a reaction that doesn’t quite fit. When he says he’s got to be one or the other, it almost seems like he’s hiding, like he’s shy about it. House shakes himself mentally, comes up out of it enough to notice that he seems inexperienced. He’s letting it happen more than he’s active and inviting it, like he doesn’t really know how to move his body into this if left to his own devices, like he needs the hands on him to guide him. If there was any doubt left, it’s gone in the way he responds to that comment, you say slut like it’s a bad thing, like he’s trying to come off more experienced than he is.

“Oh my god,” he breathes, shocked that he was so wrong, and his hands are starting to come away from Chase already, moving away from his cock and letting go of his hip.

“You’re a virgin?”

It’s a question, but he is. House knows he is now, he can tell, even if it’s subtle. But knowing it, he can’t keep pushing, can’t keep taking, because suddenly it’s not just dancing getting out of control but taking advantage.