Title: Any Port
Author: Mercaque
Summary: Chase gets arrested during a break-in; Foreman comes to bail him out. Slash, m/m sex.
Disclaimer: House MD and all characters are property of David Shore and FOX.
Author's Notes: Constructive criticism highly welcome.
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They kept up a steady stream of meaningless chatter during the drive back to Chase's apartment. Foreman updated him on the patient whose medical condition had prompted Chase's ill-fated break-in in the first place, and they spent most of the drive batting possible diagnoses back and forth, a new camaraderie infusing their usual competitiveness. Before they knew it, Chase's apartment building loomed in front of them.
"Well, here it is," Chase said reluctantly.
Foreman turned off the car, and a tense silence hung between them.
"Want to come up for a drink?" Chase finally asked.
"It's a worknight," Foreman demurred instinctively. But his hand was already unlatching his seatbelt.
No words were exchanged as they walked up the stairs, the uneasy quiet again descending upon them. Chase fished his keys out of his borrowed trousers, and it wasn't until he was fumbling with them in front of his door that Foreman finally spoke.
"Your eye okay?" he asked quietly.
"It'll be fine," Chase answered reflexively. His breath quickened when he felt light fingers brush along his temple.
"Good," Foreman murmured.
Chase barely knew how to take the straightforward affection in Foreman's voice, and his old instincts told him he dared not trust it. But the alternative, of sitting alone in his oppressively quiet apartment, was almost too awful to contemplate. And Foreman had been good to him so far. Maybe, just maybe... Chase turned impulsively, letting his key hang in the lock, and planted a kiss on Foreman's mouth.
The other man froze, and for a horrible stomach-turning moment Chase wondered if he had again miscalculated. But then Foreman's lips opened warmly, and his fingers nestled in the back of Chase's blond hair, and he returned the kiss with a fervency that made Chase go limp with relief.
They pulled back after a moment, their heavy breathing loud in the still night air. Wonder swirled in Foreman's steady gaze.
"Come on," Chase whispered. His fingers shook a little as he opened the door, but Foreman's gentle hand at the small of his back reassured him.
When the door closed they shared a nervous, expectant look, and then Foreman ventured a second kiss, exploratory but gentle. Chase's hesitance melted away, his arms encircling Foreman's waist and pulling him in closer. They necked in the hallway for a few moments, lips moving over skin, trailing hungrily along throats and cheeks and jawlines, Foreman's movements endearingly clumsy in his efforts to avoid Chase's bruising.
At last Chase pulled back, a warm smile on his face, and then simply leaned in and rested his head against Foreman's broad shoulder. He closed his eyes and savored Foreman's arms cradling him, the low quick thrumming of his heartbeat, the gentle fingers stroking his hair.
Chase's blue eyes fixed on the soft brown skin of Foreman's neck, and licking his lips he was again aware of its slightly salty taste, of the way his facial hair had lightly tenderized his skin... desire rushed hotly through Chase's veins, flushing his skin, prompting the beginnings of an erection between his legs. His swollen eye throbbed harder as the blood went to his face as well, the sharp twinge spicing Chase's arousal.
"Didn't you ask about a shower before?" he murmured suggestively against Foreman's jacket.
He lifted his head, and the arch of Foreman's brow suggested he was thoroughly enticed. Chase led them toward the bathroom, unbuttoning his oversized shirt and shrugging it off. Behind him Foreman stripped off his jacket and loosened his tie.
The entire apartment was fairly sparse, a holdover from Chase's days in the seminary, and the bathroom was a similar study in economy: white tiles, clean but not sparkling, a narrow shower with a sliding plastic door, a few towels folded on a shelf. Foreman's gaze darted all around the room, and Chase felt briefly defensive of his domain; but there was no judgment, only an appreciative curiosity.
His eyes came to a dead stop on Chase's chest.
"Jesus Christ, Rob." Foreman's face slackened as he caught sight of the blue-and-black bruises splashing across Chase's bare torso. He stepped forward, tracing the edges of the bruising lightly with his fingers, and sucked in a sharp breath. "Who the fuck did this?"
Chase flushed, thrilled and embarrassed and aroused at the protective ire in Foreman's eye. "Same guy."
"I swear to God..." he began darkly, but Chase cut him off with a sudden fierce kiss. Foreman moaned a little, desire slowly dampening his anger.
Chase reluctantly broke the kiss, breathing hard, and went to turn on the shower. Foreman, meanwhile, pulled off his tie, shirt and slacks in quick succession. Dark curly hair brushed lightly across his chest, trailing down from his belly button to his boxers, where a thick unyielding bulge announced his unmistakeable arousal. Chase's cock throbbed harder at the sight, and he flicked his fingers impatiently under the flowing water. Finally satisfied it was hot enough, Chase stood, stripped off the rest of his clothing and climbed into the shower.
Even as his painfully hard erection demanded attention, Chase stopped to appreciate how heavenly the hot sharp water was as it bit into his tired muscles and washed the dirt from his skin. He sighed happily, eyes closed, mouth open in an unguarded smile; when he opened his eyes Foreman was staring at him with brazen admiration.
"Come on already," he chided him with a grin.
Foreman laughed and stepped into the shower after Chase, sliding the plastic door shut behind him. He hissed a little when the near-scalding water hit his skin, but quickly acclimated, and soon Chase was watching the rivulets trace the contours of Foreman's sensual flesh – down the sturdy chest, the soft belly, the crevice where his ass met his waist... the thick, jutting erection.
But he had barely taken all this in when Foreman was leaning in, kissing his mouth sharply, then moving down to tease briefly at one of Chase's pink nipples, which promptly perked in response. Goosebumps erupted all along Chase's body, and his sex throbbed insistently.
"Foreman... please..." he begged.
Foreman gave him a look that was nine-tenths amused and one-tenth withering. "I think we're on a first name basis, you know," he murmured, his mouth trailing tantalizingly lower.
"I stand corrected, Eri—" Foreman's hot mouth enveloped his cock. "Oh God!"
Chase clutched blindly at the door handle in an effort to steady himself, his knees nearly buckling as Foreman's skilled tongue danced along his shaft. Foreman wrapped one firm hand around the base of Chase's cock, and the other trailed curiously along his body – cupping his ass, scraping light fingernails along his thigh, flicking at the skin just behind the knee. That last touch gave Chase an unexpected jolt, and he gripped the door handle with increasingly white knuckles.
Foreman's lips moved up and down his cock faster now, his steady rhythm matching the increasingly fiery tingle that radiated through Chase's skin. And then for a blind exhilarating moment, Chase thrust forward uncontrollably, his fierce climax bursting in Foreman's eager sucking mouth, dimly aware that he was crying out inarticulately the entire time.
He sagged against the cold tiled wall as the aftershocks subsided. Foreman was lightly kissing his way back up Chase's body, and Chase leaned into him for support, still breathing hard.
His mind began to clear slightly, and he realized Foreman still had a fat, throbbing erection of his own. Without a second thought Chase wrapped his fingers around it and began to pump firmly, and Foreman's fingers dug involuntarily into his skin. Chase kissed greedily at Foreman's neck and shoulders, pink lips devouring rich black skin, stroking faster at the hot rigid length in his hand.
Foreman's eyes began to flutter helplessly as his orgasm approached, his full lips parting, his head thrown back.
"Oh... oh, God..." he moaned desperately.
When it became clear Foreman was about to go over the edge, Chase smiled to himself and dropped to his knees, closing his lips around Foreman's cock, his tongue flicking at the head; Foreman's sharp, orgasmic howl rang through the steamy air, and he thrust fiercely between Chase's lips, his hot salty seed spurting down his throat.
Foreman's eyes were still at half-mast when Chase stood up, and a tired grateful smile perked his lips. He brushed the back of his hand against Chase's non-injured cheek, and a minute later swept in for a kiss. For a moment each man tasted his own sex, and then Foreman stepped out of the shower, leaving Chase to yet again bask in the hot flowing water.
Foreman borrowed one of Chase's T-shirts to sleep in; it was only fitting, Chase felt, that he should return the favor. The fact that it was slightly too tight on Foreman's bulkier frame made for a nice visual, although Chase was too crushingly tired for it to register as anything more.
He turned out the lights and crawled into bed, where Foreman was already drifting off. But he nonetheless slung a possessive arm around Chase, who smiled and fondly kissed his face. His raw gratitude was shrouded by the darkness, a fact for which Chase was grateful. I love you, he contemplated saying; but aloud only whispered, "Good night, Eric."
Foreman smiled a broad sleepy smile and again cocooned Chase securely in his arms, and the heavy rhythm of his breathing lulled him to sleep.
-end-