FIC: House/Chase ; R ; Appreciation

Title: Appreciation
Author: finding_jay
Pairing: House/Chase
Rating: R
Warnings: Silence ; childish behaviours ; spanking
Disclaimer: No own.
Notes: Written for acidic_flower as part of a fic meme who requested House/Chase - spanking. I actually really like this one so I thought I’d share it.



House was silent. It was never a good sign. Chase would have rathered he was yelling, arms raised, spitting accusations and lumping hours upon hours of clinic duty on Chase, instead of sitting at his desk, staring at the way the blinds spun and twirled against the glass walls that hid the growing storm.

Chase had been back for only a week, but already he preferred the cool solitude of his home with the accusing walls and silent abandonment. Even though Foreman was in charge, Chase couldn’t escape the way House refused to acknowledge his presence.

Pushing his things into his bag, Chase moved away from the table and stood. Slinging it over his shoulder, he stepped into House’s office, pulling the blinds back.

‘I finished the reports,’ he said. House barely lifted his eyes.

‘Fine.’

Chase hesitated before continuing. ‘I’m going home now.’

House was silent, eyes watching the foot of the blinds against Chase’s shoe. Outside it was dark, a purr of a car passing. A nurse hustled down the corridor, her shoes squeaking as she walked.

‘House?’

The man finally lifted his eyes. Giving Chase a steely glare, he pushed himself up, out of the chair, hand wrapped around the hook of his cane. Moving slowly towards him, Chase couldn’t help but step back.

‘Get in here,’ House snapped, jerking his chin to his desk. Chase flinched, his hand flat on the glass panel. Licking his lips, already knowing he was probably going to regret his decision, he stepped into House’s office, opposite the desk. The blinds moved behind him, rocking back and forth.

‘You could have cost me my job,’ House commented, leaning back against his desk. ‘Never mind your mistakes, everything will be traced back to me.’

‘House, I- ’

‘Do you even appreciate your job?’

Chase stared, mouth agape. ‘Well… yes, of cour- ’

‘Yet you’re willing to risk it for a stupid reason?’

Chase spluttered, shaking his head, confusion evident. ‘If this is about Vogler…’

House held his cane in one hand, rolling the rubber stop along the carpet, the hook rocking back and forth along the palm of his hand. Chase swallowed thickly, mouth dry. If anything, at least House was talking to him.

‘You…’ Chase paused, trying to collect his thoughts. House lifted his eyes, eyebrow raised, watching as Chase searched for the right words. ‘You knew about my father! You acted as though you were cool with it!’

House pushed himself off the desk, walking towards Chase.

‘I thought that you would have known by now that everybody lies.’

‘That shouldn’t be used when letting somebody keep their job!’

House had disappeared behind him, leaving Chase to stare at the desk, giving an exasperated sigh. Shoulders slumped, hands dangling by his sides, bag swinging back and forth.

‘I’m going home,’ he murmured over his shoulder. He was about to turn around when a smack landed on his ass. Chase stumbled forward, hand slamming down on the desk. His bag slipped from his shoulder, hand quickly grabbing it as he twisted his neck to see House. Cheeks flushed, he let out a gasp, blinking a few times as he tried to think of the appropriate response.

‘What? Did you just smack me?’

‘I spanked you, actually,’ House replied coolly. Chase gawked.

‘Why?’

‘That’s what you do with children, isn’t it? I could take my belt off- ’

‘I’m not a child!’ Chase screeched, cutting him off.

‘But you act like one,’ House replied with a shrug. ‘With the way you gripe on and the look on your face like you were caught with your hand in the cookie jar.’

Pushing himself away from the desk, Chase huffed indignantly. ‘That doesn’t mean you have the right to smack- ’

Another whack went across his ass, causing him to stumble. His hip hit the desk, a hiss escaping his lips, hand instinctively going down to rub it.

‘House!’

He didn’t reply so Chase looked over his shoulder. House was standing there, a smirk upon his lips, eyebrow arched.

‘Are you insane?’ Chase cried. House’s smirk only grew as he stepped forward. Chase stepped back, only to find himself pressed up against the desk. Curling his fingers around the desk, Chase leant back over it. He could feel beads of sweat starting to trickle down the back of his neck, the feel of House’s breath on his face as he leant forward, pushing Chase against the desk.

‘House!’

House just gave a toothy grin before pulling back. There was a malicious glint in his eye, his hand pushing against Chase’s chest. Chase drew in a shaky breath, trying to refrain from blinking in case House took advantage of his closed eyes.

‘Turn around.’

The words made Chase shiver.

‘Wh-what?’

‘You heard me. You act like a child, I’m gonna treat you like one.’

‘I’m not acting like a child.’

‘You’re certainly being difficult.’

‘Because I don’t want to have welts on my ass!’

House just snorted softly and stepped back. Giving Chase one final look, he turned. Breathing a sigh of relief, Chase shoved his bag back on his shoulder. Making a mental note to avoid House tomorrow, Chase glanced over his shoulder to make sure he hadn’t dropped anything. Reassuring himself he hadn’t, Chase moved away from the desk. Lifting his head, he caught sight of House, still in the office, watching him.

‘House…’

The cane caught him off guard. Doubling over, hands around his suddenly aching stomach, his bag slipped from his shoulder and landed around his bent elbow. Closing his eyes, he let out a groan of pain. It wasn’t until he felt House turning him around and shoving his against the desk, stomach having the side pressed into it, did Chase even think about saying something.

‘House, stop,’ he groaned, feeling nauseous. House didn’t reply, though. Instead, he seemed much more interested in reaching around and unzipping the front of Chase’s pants, fingers hooking around the belt loops. The sound of House’s cane falling against the desk seemed to echo around the room.

Before he could even consider drawing a breath, Chase found his pants around his knees. Croaking out House’s name, Chase tried to wriggle free, but there was a firm hand between his shoulders and a slap on his now-bare ass.

‘See? You act like a child.’

Chase closed his eyes, fingers splayed on the desk.

‘House, I’ll have to report you to Cuddy,’ he grunted.

‘Then what? I honestly doubt anybody else would hire you now that daddy dearest has passed on.’

Chase only groaned, hanging his head.

‘Now, we have two options here,’ House murmured, voice suddenly becoming quiet. ‘I could either treat you like shit for the next few weeks, or we could finish it tonight. And I can only think up abusive comments for so long.’

‘House…’

House’s hand ran over the creamy-white curve of Chase’s right ass cheek, fingers curling around his hip.

‘What one do you prefer?’

‘I don’t want bruises all over my ass,’ Chase hissed.

House’s response was a firm slap on Chase’s ass. Chase jerked forward, eyes wide.

‘Well…?’ House’s voice was low, deep. Dangerous.

Chase groaned, closing his eyes. If he was to get out of this situation any quicker, he knew he’d have to let go of his pride for a moment.

‘Fine, fine,’ he spluttered. He swore he could feel the smirk grow on House’s face as his hand crept along his ass.

‘I knew you’d come around,’ House murmured. His hand lifted off Chase’s ass, and although he braced himself, Chase still let out a grunt of pain and jerked forward when House struck him. Keeping his eyes shut, Chase bit his lower lip, curling and uncurling his fingers around the desk.

The next strike came suddenly. Chase let out a gasp, his hand coming to slap down on the desk. Another slap soon came, stinging Chase’s ass. His toes curled into his shoes, mouth falling open.

‘Hurt?’ House growled. Chase nodded, hair falling in front of his face. ‘So why aren’t you trying to get away?’

His question was punctuated by another slap on Chase’s ass.

‘I… I can’t…’ Chase gasped, leaning back into House’s hand as it ran over his ass. Giving up on explaining, Chase just shrugged his shoulders, shaking his head and slumped over his bent arms.

‘Do you like it?’ House asked, voice still low. ‘Are you enjoying it?’

Chase bit the inside of his cheek, refusing to respond. It didn’t matter either way- House wouldn’t stop until he had his fill.

The next slap on his ass seemed to shake through his entire body. His thigh hit the desk, chest falling flat against it. He couldn’t help but realize how he’d become hard. His hand had fallen under his chest, twisted at an uncomfortable angle, but oddly enough he wasn’t thinking about that. Instead, he was paying attention to the way his semi-erect cock was caught between him and the desk.

That thought flew from his mind, however, when House’s hand smacked against his ass. Grunting into the desk, Chase squeezed his eyes shut until lights burned behind his eyelids.

He could hear House draw in a breath. Keeping his eyes shut, Chase kept his mind on controlling his own breathing. In when he felt House’s hand move off his ass, out when it come down, which was starting to occur more frequently.

His fingers curled around the front of his shirt, body moving as House’s hand moved harder, faster, on his ass. Chase let out a cry, hand gripping tighter at his shirt, his cock, harder now, still caught.

House’s name fell from his lips. His free hand caught around the back of the keyboard, mashing the keys down as he gripped it near-desperately. House didn’t reply, though he did grunt softly behind him. His hand stung his skin, and Chase knew the drive home was going to be painful. Panting out House’s name again, Chase’s head fell against the surface of the desk. Groaning into it, each movement as House pushed him forward with his hand causing his cock to rub against the warming surface of the desk. He had no idea how he was going to look House in eye tomorrow, but somehow that didn’t seem to matter. All that seemed to matter was the way House’s hand felt on his red-raw ass or the way House seemed to be breathing with increasing difficulty or the way Chase was edging closer to an orgasm.

There was one final slap across his ass, the slightest scrape of fingernails. Chase drew in a breath, eye still shut tight. He could hear House’s light grunts and heavy panting.

A hand was suddenly between his shoulder blades, fingers pressing his somewhat sweaty shirt to his skin.

He heard House swallow and take a breath.

‘Don’t… don’t turn around until I leave. Keep your head down and eyes shut.’

‘O- ’

‘And don’t say anything.’

Chase nodded, showing he understood. He heard House move, most likely picking up his cane. Chase kept his head on the desk, cock still hard, ass stinging. There was more movement- House probably gathering his things, pulling his jacket on. The sound of House walking around the desk and the rattle of blinds as he opened the door. Chase held his breath at the sudden silence- he could feel House’s presence. Curling his fingers around his shirt once more, he waited until he felt, rather than heard House, leave the room. Counting back from ten to be certain, he slowly pushed himself off the desk. He was still hard.

Shoving his pants back up, he snatched up his bag, holding it discreetly over his hips.

The next morning his ass still hurt when he sat but he managed to avoid looking at house.

‘What’s wrong with you?’ House snapped as he stood by the whiteboard. ‘Didn’t your mother ever tell you to look elders in they’re talking to you?’ He clucked his tongue and turned back to the whiteboard. ‘Children.’