He stops pulling back when Chase grabs his wrists to stop him. He’s not sure still, but he hesitates in pulling away because he really doesn’t want to let go of him and it seems like Chase, even if he is completely inexperienced, doesn’t want to stop. Then he says it, and even though he’d guessed, noticed it, hearing it is still surprising. He’s never and yet he’s dating Brett… it’s got to be just a matter of time, then. Brett has a reputation for good reason, and House suddenly has the urge to warn him. Now’s not the time, obviously, but he knows that Brett will be with him until he fucks him, until he gets bored of him, and then he’ll leave him… and that’s one thing with the guys who’ve been around a little bit, but Chase is bound to get hurt. Not that this is much better, what he’s doing - what is he doing? Fuck if he knows. He hardly has enough brain power to think about what he’s doing. All he knows is that Chase doesn’t want him to stop.

Virgin or not, he’s so a pervert… getting off on this, here, standing in the center of the studio leaning back against House, where anyone who wanted to look in the glass window on the door could see.

“Pervert,” he breathes against his ear as his arms slip back around him, right back where they were. One hand caressing Chase through his tights and the other hugging his hip and urging him back, fingertips rubbing down along the groove between hip and thigh to change the angle of his body so that his spine curves just so, so that his ass juts back against him, fits tight against his body. He wants to keep Chase talking, wants to hear him.

“Do you like this…?” he asks as he changes how he’s touching him, thumb rubbing along the length of his cock through his tights while his hand rubs and rocks, long fingered hand spanning as much of him as he can at the awkward angle afforded by his clothes, making a conscious effort to try and get him off.