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Hush
by Taima Hiroshima
He had been fussy all day. House realized it made the younger doctor sound like a two year old, but that was the only apt description he could think of. He had fussed over his coffee, saying it was too hot.
He had then complained about the ICU, saying he was the only doctor on staff, and he was tired. And then at lunch he had only picked at his food and stared sulkily at the wall. Yes, he had been fussy all day. But House had a plan for that.
Shortly after lunch he called the other doctor to his office. He was leaning back in his chair, playing Cat's Cradle.
"You broke your yo-yo?" Chase stepped into the office, his blond hair flopping in his eyes. He looked both amused and annoyed. It was a look that only the Australian seemed to be able to pull off.
"No," House shook his head. He pulled at the string, looking at the shape he had just made. Jacob's Ladder.
"Then... Where did you get the string?" Chase shook the hair out of his eyes and raised an eyebrow. House rolled his eyes.
"There are craft stores that sell balls of this stuff, you know."
"Somehow," Chase closed the door behind him. "I just can't see you wondering around a craft store with all those old grandma's trying to pick out yarn to make a new sweater." He stepped to the windows and dropped the blinds.
"Sure! Come on Chase, you didn't know? Every Wednesday night there's a Cane Gladiator Battle. Me and Tough Edna Mae are vying for the number one spot right now."
"Is that so?" Chase chuckled as he undid the laces on his shoes. He put them neatly by the door. He peeled off his white lab coat. House was momentarily silent as he watched the young man stretch. He could see a ripple of muscles beneath his too tight dress shirt. The tightness had been hidden by his loose lab coat.
"Uh, sure." House shook his head. Chase grinned. House beckoned to him. Curiously, the blond stepped forward.
"What is it?"
"I want-to try something. A little different." House said softly. Chase nodded.
"Whatever you like." Chase replied, just as softly. With slightly trembling hands, House undid the ugly yellow tie that was disgracing Chase and looking dreadful with the blue shirt he had chosen to wear.
Usually House preferred Chase to undress himself. In the past, he had always leaned back, grinning lecherously as Chase's young body was exposed inch by inch. But today he seemed to be unwrapping Chase layer by layer.
The blond leaned against the desk. As House set the silky tie aside gingerly, he looked out the window. A sheet of snow had fallen, covering everything in a blanket of white sparkle. The setting sun made it glitter. In the back of his mind, Chase remembered he had to go Christmas shopping soon.
His buttons were slowly coming undone. He tore his eyes from the winter scene outside to the one inside that made him feel more than a little warm. Chase was looking straight up at him as he undid the last button. He parted the material and ran his hands down Chase's chest.
Like most doctors his hands were cold. Goosebumps rose on the Aussie's skin, and he hissed. House laughed and leaned forward in his chair to put a lick on his skin, right above the navel. He stopped for a minute, and seeming to think better of it, swirled his tongue around the belly button and inside it.
"Holy shit!" Chase growled. His hands went to the side of House's hair. House grinned, and he could feel the pull of his skin against his stomach. There was also a distinctive scratch as the scruffy beard rubbed against the delicate flesh.
"This is a better feast than I had on Thanksgiving." House smirked. Before Chase could say anything, House tugged him down so he was leaning over him. His mouth clamped to one nipple, and Chase gasped out loud.
His free nipple was soon teased into a peak as House pinched and twisted it. He moved to suckle on that one as well.
"H-House," the younger man croaked. House let go of his prize just long enough to scold.
"Hush, little boy."
The material of his shirt was slid down his arms and fell. It caught between his back and the desk and hung there before House reached behind him and tugged it free. He let it fall indifferently to the floor. The hands, instead of coming back around to the front as Chase had expected, stayed on his back.
They ran up and down from the middle to the small of his back a few times. By now, the younger man's hands were on the elder's shoulders. He squeezed as House smiled slightly. The hands cupped his glutes and lifted them.
"What a fine little wombat ass." He remarked. Chase felt a blush rising on his cheeks. "It's all mine too. I would like to see my property bare." He rolled back in his chair. Chase couldn't meet his clear, clear diagnosing blue eyes as he undid his belt. He laid that on the desk next to his tie and dropped his pants. He shimmied out of his underwear next.
"Better?" sarcasm crept into his voice.
"Speak to me like that again and I may have to make use of the belt." House warned. Chase felt a tingle in his belly. He titled his head back as House teased his belly button again. The mouth slid lower until it slid through his pubic hair and around his penis.
"Jesus!" he squeaked.
"Hush," House whispered, his breath blowing hot against Chase's dick. "Don't make me tell you again." He reverently took the organ into his mouth and began to suck, tickling the one spot on the underside with his tongue.
Chase hissed and gripped the sides of his boss's head. Chase whimpered and squirmed, gripping handfuls of House's hair. House hummed against his dick, deep in his throat. Chase threw his head back. He felt the familiar tightening in both his balls and his belly.
The cold air hit the most sensitive part of him first. It was more than calming, and he opened his eyes to glare at his boss. He sputtered wordlessly for a few minutes.
"I have an idea." House said thoughtfully. He picked up the tie and began to sift it through his fingers. Chase eyed him warily.
"What?"
"I seem to have to tell you to quiet down. I thought if I did this, things might go a little faster." House quickly gagged the younger man. Chase protested once it was securely over his mouth, but he was blessedly muffled. "Hush now," House said softly. "Hush."
He picked up the fine leather belt. It struck him how much money Chase had, how expensive his clothes were. And yet, they all looked dreadfully terrible on him. Dreadfully, dreadfully. All the money in the world and not a lick of fashion sense. House smirked.
Chase's eyes gleamed with fear. House picked up his hands and kissed both the palms.
"And now, my little altar boy, clasp your hands like you're going to Hail Mary." He commanded. Chase automatically put his palms together. He eyed House warily. He wrapped the belt around the Australian's wrists and buckled it, securing him in his prayerful pose.
"Mmm! Mm-hmm mmnmhm!" Chase muttered through the cloth.
"I've just wanted you to be still all day." House said. He put his cheek against Chase's belly for a moment, marveling at the warmth. Chase tugged and pulled against the leather of the belt that rendered him motionless.
His arms wrapped around Chase's back and rubbed soothingly. He felt the man melt beneath his ministrations. Gradually, the hands moved lower and lower until they reached his ass. House grinned as he ran one finger down the part of the two perfect globes. Chase shivered.
"Do you like it, my dear?" House lifted his head and looked up. The blue-green eyes were closed, and he nodded, very slowly. House opened a desk drawer and removed a small tube. He squeezed some liquid onto his fingers before taking one cheek into a hand and pulling it slightly to the side.
His fingers dove into the pucker. Chase froze.
"Relax, Chase. Hush." House said. Chase strained against the belt again. House smiled.
It figured, Chase thought. The man never beat around the bush while doing anything. He just dove right in. He leaned into the other man, who kissed the skin of his shoulder and whispered nonsense to him. Moments like this, this was the only time where House could be gentle.
He was finally slick and wide open. He winced as House pulled the fingers out of him and squirmed uncomfortably.
"Turn around," House whispered. Chase somehow wriggled around, so he was bending over the desk. His bound hands were held far out in front of him. He struggled against them fruitlessly.
"Be still, Chase. Just be still." House stood, putting all his weight on his good leg. He silently undid his belt. His zipper made a soft sound as it pulled down. His jeans fell and pooled at his ankles. Chase was frozen still now, waiting anxiously.
House poured a little lube in his palm. He stroked his already hard dick and positioned himself at Chase's entrance.
"If nothing else, I know this will keep you quiet." He thrust in. Chase's head fell back. House didn't bother with the niceties of going slowly. He pounded in and out, his arms wound tightly around Chase's waist.
Chase was squirming back against him, but House had effectively pinned him against the desk. He could not move. House kept pounding in and out. Chase felt a familiar stirring in the pit of his belly.
He howled against the cloth in his mouth. House grabbed his hair and tilted his head back.
"I want to see you when you come." He breathed. The hot air from his mouth blew against Chase's cheek. That was all it took. Chase groaned and spurted all over the desk.
It tipped House over the edge too. Chase felt him shudder and then lean bonelessly against him. House dropped into his chair with a gasp for air. Chase remained in his position on the desk and felt House wipe him clean with a Kleenex.
Chase sank to the floor next to House's chair. He leaned against House's knee. House undid the tie and laid it on the desk. Chase sighed.
House's hand tangled in his hair. He hummed softly as he played with the fine blond strands. Chase closed his eyes as House softly began to sing.
"Hush little baby, don't say a word... Papa's gonna buy you a mockingbird. And if that mockingbird don't sing..."
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Legal Disclaimer: The authors published here make no claims on the ownership of Dr. Gregory House and the other fictional residents of Princeton-Plainsboro Teaching Hospital. Like the television show House (and quite possibly Dr. Wilson's pocket protector), they are the property of Fox Television, David Shore and undoubtedly other individuals of whom I am only peripherally aware. The fan fiction authors published here receive no monetary benefit from their work and intend no copyright infringement nor slight to the actual owners. We love the characters and we love the show, otherwise we wouldn't be here.
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