House really isn't thinking about anything beyond what's happening right here and now. It had started out because he'd wanted to make a point, but they're so far beyond that that House isn't entirely sure he quite remembers the point he was trying to make. The sounds that Chase is making, gasping for breath and moaning as he presses back against him, squirming so that his ass rubs against him with the kind of friction that's making it hard to focus on anything but how good it would feel to lose the layers of fabric between them. With the way that Chase's tights cling perfectly to his cheeks, the only thing that's keeping him from really feeling how it would be to grind against his ass is his own dance belt and the snug, padded hold it has on him. It's still good, he just knows that it could be so much better.
This is stupid, but they're past that. House's hand slides up Chase's front, briefly caressing against his soft, bare belly, before his fingertips trace the edge of his tights and slip beneath, working to slip beneath the waist of his dance belt as well, and his hand slips down to first just brush against and then curl around his cock, and he gives him a good stroke. Just the act of having his hand down the front of his tights, and the angle, has them inching down a little on his hips, has his cock exposed to the room. The direction they're facing means that if someone looks in they'll have a fair idea what's going on, the same as a few seconds prior, but they won't see exactly what's going on. It's still risky and that makes it better somehow, but at the same time he half wishes they were somewhere more private, somewhere this could go further...
He's stroking faster, touching and learning every inch of his cock and the way every touch makes him react, has him squirming and breathless. His free hand rubs up over the young dancer's belly, fingertips briefly skimming high enough to graze his nipples before rubbing back down again. He doesn't need to tell him to lean into him, to just trust him and relax against him, because he already is, leaning and pressing into his body and trusting blindly that he'll be there to catch him, to support him, to push right back against him.
House's breath is coming heavy and hot against Chase's neck, and this is the kind of thing he'd been after. Maybe not quite this far, but he had wanted to push Chase away from his sweet, too delicately flirtatious movements and get him to embrace some of this, brazen and shamelessly pressing back and using his sexuality as a weapon and as bait. Right now, House is completely wrapped up in it, in the promise of how they're moving together, in the absolute obscenity of the sounds he's making... obviously he's not looking for this mid-dance, but if he could tap into this...
"Do you wanna come?" he breathes against his ear as his grip on his cock tightens, as his hand slows and then speeds back up.
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This is stupid, but they're past that. House's hand slides up Chase's front, briefly caressing against his soft, bare belly, before his fingertips trace the edge of his tights and slip beneath, working to slip beneath the waist of his dance belt as well, and his hand slips down to first just brush against and then curl around his cock, and he gives him a good stroke. Just the act of having his hand down the front of his tights, and the angle, has them inching down a little on his hips, has his cock exposed to the room. The direction they're facing means that if someone looks in they'll have a fair idea what's going on, the same as a few seconds prior, but they won't see exactly what's going on. It's still risky and that makes it better somehow, but at the same time he half wishes they were somewhere more private, somewhere this could go further...
He's stroking faster, touching and learning every inch of his cock and the way every touch makes him react, has him squirming and breathless. His free hand rubs up over the young dancer's belly, fingertips briefly skimming high enough to graze his nipples before rubbing back down again. He doesn't need to tell him to lean into him, to just trust him and relax against him, because he already is, leaning and pressing into his body and trusting blindly that he'll be there to catch him, to support him, to push right back against him.
House's breath is coming heavy and hot against Chase's neck, and this is the kind of thing he'd been after. Maybe not quite this far, but he had wanted to push Chase away from his sweet, too delicately flirtatious movements and get him to embrace some of this, brazen and shamelessly pressing back and using his sexuality as a weapon and as bait. Right now, House is completely wrapped up in it, in the promise of how they're moving together, in the absolute obscenity of the sounds he's making... obviously he's not looking for this mid-dance, but if he could tap into this...
"Do you wanna come?" he breathes against his ear as his grip on his cock tightens, as his hand slows and then speeds back up.