A Well-Deserved Break

House sighed. Clinic duty was a pain--literally. He shifted uncomfortably in the hard plastic seat--only slightly more comfortable than the exam table-- and rubbed the side of his leg methodically.

At least there had been a break in the nearly constant stream of patients--a very pleasant surprise. House wasn't entirely sure that he could take any more cases of the flu, or a kid with something up his nose (and the stupid parents that'd let it happen), or, oh, God forbid it--some college student with herpes.

A knock at the door interrupted his wallowing.

"Yes, I'm in here; yes, I have prescriptions. Whatever you want--painkillers? Steroids?"

"No..." came an incredibly familiar voice from the other side of the door, and then a very familiar face, upon its opening.

"Oh, Chase. We finally have an interesting case? Or a boring one-- one that gets me out of here?" House was pleading.

Chase shook his head. "No case."

"So you came here to bother me," House said in his usual, sulky voice.

"I was bored," Chase drawled with a smirk.

"This is a clinic, Chase," House leaned forward. "There is no clinical cure for boredom."

"But there is a cure," Chase paused to wet his lips, "isn't there?"

"Oh, hell," House muttered. His throat was dry and his mind was blank. "I... I need a break."

Chase stepped in closer. "Take it."
"I can't." House sighed, rubbing his temples in defeat. "Have you seen the waiting room out there?"

"Yes... a lot of patients, weren't there?"

"Yeah! Patients I need to see, or Cuddy will be on my ass again."

"But you are with a patient," Chase smiled.

House opened the door, quickly, then slammed it. "Your chart?"

"Come patient from room 109's chart."

"Oh."

"So let's take that break, then."

House rolled his eyes. "Spending time with you is anything but a break, Chase."

House found himself, suddenly, trapped in the corner of exam room three, Chase's body blocking his, and his cane on the other side of the room.

"Call it a distraction, then," Chase said, his voice low and... seductive? No. Okay, well, maybe. But more like yes, House thought, because then Chase was kissing him, unbuttoning his shirt quite deftly, and House was kissing back, against his will, probably, but hell, this was better than listening to someone's cough.

A lot better. He fumbled with Chase's tie, the young doctor moaning into his mouth at the contact to his neck. Fuck, this was random--but who was House to question it? He discarded Chase's tie--shed his own T-shirt--noted Chase's whining as he broke their kiss.

He couldn't help but chuckle softly at the way that Chase seemed to pounce onto him at his first opportunity to continue his assault on his superior's mouth, his teeth tugging at House's lip. "Hey, woah... whatever happened to my break? Is this supposed to be relaxing?"

"I thought we agreed," Chase replied, panting, "that this was no break." And Chase's mouth moved, then, to House's neck-- kissing, sucking--

"Shit! Fine, fine. If this... is your idea of a distraction," House's voice was strained, and Chase was not stopping. House had the impression that the coma patient could have woken up, walked in, and asked for his chart back, and Chase would not have even looked up. "I hope you know this won't get you a raise--no matter how--good--you--are." But Chase was not stopping; it was safe to assume that he did not care.

Well then, if it was settled... House set to work on Chase's shirt, the buttons occasionally eluding him as the young man's neck moved--gradually downward, to his collarbone and chest--"Dammit, Chase; stay still for just one--"

And Chase stopped, just like that, smiling just slightly and looking up at House, eyes clear and piercing.

House looked away. Did he have to playing some kind of--staring game, or whatever he thought he was doing? And now what? "...Get that thing off."

Chase held his gaze as he began loosening each button, every movement revealing more and more smooth, pale skin until the shirt was gone. "So I might as well..." Chase began, but didn't bother to finish as he unbuttoned, unzipped, and slid off his perfectly ironed, stain-defender khakis, leaving him in only a pair of crisp, white boxer breifs. Oh, and socks. The shoes had come off with the pants, and suddenly House felt overdressed.

"Well if it's going to be like that..." House said with mock-exasperation, kicking off his shoes, and feeling slightly odd about his sock-free choice, and Chase just stared. "Socks... are for the weak, Robert."

"No, umm, it's just..." Chase's eyes were locked dead on House's fly.

"I like these jeans," House replied matter-of-factly, and lunged at Chase, kissing him fiercely before he could make any response.

House's hands slid everywhere, fingers caressing the impeccably smooth skin of the younger man's shoulders and back. Chase groaned as House nipped at his shoulder, then his collarbone, and finally his chest, each bite becoming gradually harder in turn, and gasped when House's fingers reached the waistband of his underwear, right above his ass, slipping just underneath...

"You came here to seduce me," House whispered.

Chase half-laughed. "Good diagnosis. Did it work, then?"

A dumb question. "Chase. We're both half-naked and I'm about to strip you in the middle of an exam room. Do you think it worked?"

"I don't know..." House shook his head. The blonde always played dumb with him, even at the whiteboard, he suspected. "But there is a test... to find out if it worked, that is." Chase breathed in deeply, then, with that smirk surfacing again, asked, "Do you want to fuck me, Doctor House?"

And that was it. A very straightforward question. Chase looked up intently, expecting an answer; House had it already but he wasn't about to just answer a question like that one.

And yet, his body seemed to be answering it for him, his arms pushing Chase back onto the exam table without even consulting House, his hands stripping off those--whatever-the-hell-they-were--from Chase, his fingers pulling and tugging at the young doctor's hair as he took Chase's cock into his mouth, just for a few short minutes. The taste was almost sweet--so--like Chase, and then House couldn't wait anymore.

He looked to Chase for approvial--no, not that he cared--but he couldn't have him scream or anything, making Cuddy rush in there to see what was going on. Chase met House's gaze strongly, his blue-green eyes shining with anticipation, looking just slightly out-of-control, for the first time since he'd interrupted House's wallowing. Chase's lip was even trembling a little. "Please, House," came the blonde's half-moan, half-whisper, as he arched his back, lifting his ass off of the table.

House just nodded, looking almost anywhere but at Chase while he put some of his spit to good use, until he did happen to catch Chase's eye, and saw that the young doctor was biting his lip, eyes fixed on House's cock. And oh, fuck, no matter how much he'd tried to avoid looking at Chase, this had to have been the hottest thing he had ever seen.

That was it. Chase was spread out for him already, ass raised--without even opening his mouth, he was begging, and House took him, pushing his way in all at once, and reveling in the subsequent hiss from his underling. Another thrust, and another, harder and harder--until-"OhGodyes,Dr.House--" something stopped him. Oh, shit--that should have been very unsexy, creepy even, but it sent a jolt through House's body anyway. House decided to ignore the absurdity of the whole thing, and, secretly hoping Chase might just call him 'doctor' again, leaned his lips very close to Chase's eat, and whispered, "You are the biggest whore I have ever met."

"That's really saying something, then!" Oh. Good to know the wombat still had his wits. But House could take care of that...

Just one thrust was enough, and Chase was mostly incoherent again. (House loved this control.) And a few more--faster, harder--until Chase was moaning and pushing back, his meticulously-styled blonde hair now soaked with sweat.

Chase came first, his "Oh, fuck, Dr. House!" pushing House over the edge shortly afterward.

Chase recovered very quickly. Before House could even fathom the fact that he'd just fucked one of his staff in the clinic, Chase was handing him his T-shirt and shirt. House blinked, pulled up his jeans, took the clothes from Chase, and began dressing, avoiding the other doctor's eye. But then Chase came to him again, bearing Vicodin. ...And his cane. He snatched the pills away from Chase.

"You've got to get back to work," the intensivist explained. Wait, was Chase telling him to get back to work? He took a Vicodin--or three--and looked at Chase disprovingly. Chase was unfazed. "So I'm a good fuck, then?" Damn that smugness.

"That's why I hired you."

"Sure." Chase turned toward the door. "You might wanna change that paper," he added, nodding toward the exam table. House scoffed. Chase peered out the door, then turned back to House. "A lot of nervous-looking college kids out there. Could be a herpes outbreak." And Chase was gone.