Rating: For now, T. Although it could be moved up to M, and all smut, if any, will be moved to my LJ. Don't worry, I'll be sure to notify people if this happens.

Summary: It's late when House finds Chase at the Green Clover, drinking whiskey without a care in the world. Being the curious man he is, House doesn't know how to leave anything alone. That night soon spirals into a relationship that neither House or Chase anticipate, and they find themselves entangled within each other, unwilling to move on.

Warnings: SLASH, mentions of former child abuse, alcoholism, possibility some smut (if I can muster up the nerve to write it). If there are more, I will be quick to append them to this list.

Disclaimer: I do not own House M.D., nor am I currently making nor intend to make any money off of this story. So don't sue, it's not worth the legal fees.

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Chapter One: A Hard Goodbye, and an Uncertain Beginning

A night at the Green Clover was very much the same as a night in any other bar. The atmosphere was cozy, nothing at all like those high energy nightclubs. There were a few smokers outside the bar, attempting to get one last cigarette before heading back in. However the scent of cigarette smoke still lingered inside the bar, a testament to the sheer volume of cigarettes smoked inside the bar before the ban in 2006. On a Saturday night, there were many single men hanging around the bar, hoping to break long and unwanted bouts of celibacy. At the far end of the bar, sitting in one of the stools and drinking a glass of whiskey, was a young man with blonde hair and an Australian accent.

It was getting late in the night, and usual crowd the bar drew in on Saturday nights was dwindling. There were still some middle-aged men hanging around the bar, their thinning hair showing the amount of perspiration that was collected on the scalps below. The young women began leaving the bar, often hanging off the arm of a man. Some were blisteringly inebriated, and others were merely looking for a good time. Meanwhile, the young man in the far corner of the bar poured himself another drink from the bottle beside him and attempted to forget about the day's events. It was times like these that he could almost understand how his mother became an alcoholic, it was sometimes easier to just forget about things.

The doors of the Green Clover suddenly swung open, bringing in a cooling breeze from outside. A middle-aged man with a limp and a sour disposition came in and demanded a drink from the bar tender. As soon as he sat down on one of the available bar stools, he popped a white pill into his mouth and washed it down with the shot of tequila the bartender had provided.

Wincing at the taste he said, "You should know by now that I like whiskey better. Tequila is only good for worming embarrassing secrets out of your co-workers at the annual Christmas party. Or obtaining blackmail material." He smirked, a devilish smile coming onto his face. "The pictures I took of the last Christmas party really are worth a thousand words."

The bartender gave House a shrug and gestured to Chase who was still sitting in at the end of the bar, brooding. "He's drinking the last of it. We are getting a new shipment tomorrow, so you can get your whiskey then. If you got a problem, bring it up with Dave, he's the one that ordered the booze last month. If you really want whiskey, you can drive yourself to nearest open liquor store and hope that the muggers won't take advantage of a poor cripple. Or you can try to get him to share."

House looked at the bartender, the look of petulance across his face almost saying, "Only I can call myself a cripple". He then looked at Chase, who was pouring himself another shot of whiskey out of the bottle. His hair was not in it's usual groomed state and he could see that Chase was still wearing his scrubs. He looked horrible, something that he took vague pleasure in after the way that he mouthed off to him in the hospital lobby the other day. Serves him right for suddenly growing a backbone. But... House had no whiskey. It was too late to go to the liquor store safely and he had run out of whiskey this morning. There was no choice.

House walked over to where Chase was sitting and sat himself on a barstool adjacent to the intensivist. After gesturing at the bartender to give him an empty glass, he turned to Chase.

"You're sharing."

Chase looked at House, and expression of drunken confusion manipulating his features. He began to speak, his words slurring to the point of incomprehension. House however, seemed to pick up on exactly what Chase was saying.

"I came in through the door that's... Why am I here? Well I ran out of whiskey, that's why. I foolishly thought that a bar would have some, but apparently they ran out too. And you have the last bottle, so share." House waved the empty shot glass in Chase's face for emphasis. When Chase nudged his whiskey bottle in House's direction, House eagerly poured himself a drink. After rapidly drinking the contents of the glass he poured himself another glass, this time taking in Chase's state disarray and feeling a faint sense of curiosity and concern.

"What are you doing here anyway? Didn't mommy die because she drank too much?"

Chase attempted a punch, but at this point in his inebriated state he missed, staggered, and fell on House. House glared at him before attempting to push Chase off his own body. There were two reasons House was not successful. One, Chase in his drunken state was a dead weight of one hundred seventy pounds, and two, his drunken ex-fellow was using him as a teddy bear.

"You better get off me, or the nurses will be talking about how you left Cameron for me and I broke off my long relationship with Wilson to elope with you in Massachusetts," House paused as he heard Chase mumble something. "How do you know that only residents of Massachusetts can marry there? Is there something I should know about? Because if you're going to continue to hang on to me like that, then I would really like to know my chances of getting laid tonight." Chase muttered something unflattering about House's sexual ability. Before House could retort, the bartender interrupted their conversation.

"Okay you two lovebirds, it's time to break it up and bring it to a hotel room. I'm closing up."

House managed to shake Chase off of him, and tried to shake him sober. "Wake up! I can't carry you home you idiot, don't you know I'm crippled?" Chase mumbled something into his jacket. House sighed in exasperation and shot the bartender a look. "Either you help me sober him up enough so he can walk to a taxi, or you're helping me carry him into his apartment. You refuse and I'll make sure you're fired for mistreating the handicapped."

The bartender shot House a look of pure hatred. "I thought you people were calling yourselves 'handicapable' now."

"Handicapped makes you seem more heartless. Now help me get this idiot sober enough to walk. You have coffee, or something with a decent amount of caffeine? I'm sure that whatever you take to keep awake on the job will do the trick."

"How do you know that I take something to keep awake?"

House snorted, as if the answer were obvious. "You just started working here a little more than a month ago. Up until two weeks ago, you could barely keep up with late crowd. It's nearly two am and your not the least bit tired. Either someone rewired your circadian rhythm, or you finally decided to take caffeine pills. Now if you would give me some so I can give this guy enough of a boost to get him out the door, something that you advocated ten minutes ago."

When the bartender retrieved the caffeine pills, House managed to get Chase to swallow one with the help of the remaining whiskey. It was ten minutes later that Chase was awake enough to form coherent sentences. He was still drunk and his words were still slurred, but he could walk on his own. After both House and Chase walked out of the bar, kicked out by bartender who wanted nothing to do with the two of them, House asked if Chase where he lived, to see if it was worth calling a taxi this late at night.

"I don't really have a place to... stay" Chase wobbled uncertainly and House wondered if he should have doubled the amount of pills. Obviously the recommended dosage wasn't enough.

"I know you have an apartment. And you have a fiancée who also has an apartment."

"My apartment's being fumigated for rats, and Ali-Cameron dumped me today. Something about intimacy issues and how I never open up to her. I thought she cared about me, I mean she-" House interrupted him before he could continue.

"I don't need to hear the whole sob story right now. That being said, you can sleep at my place tonight; consider it a thank you for the whiskey."

"Thanks."

As the two men walked slowly to House's apartment, Chase was feeling the effects of the alcohol catch up to him once more. He was getting nauseous, and knew that he would soon be emptying the contents of his stomach. When he reached the apartment, he immediately rushed towards the bathroom. When he was done vomiting he rinsed his mouth out with House's mouthwash. He saw House in the doorway of the bathroom, an amused look upon his face.

"You finished? 'Cause I want to use the bathroom before I collapse into bed. Get your British ass to bed so I can do the same."

"I'm not British."

Chase felt himself becoming tired once more. He took off his scrubs and settled into the covers on House's bed, not caring that he was about to fall asleep in the bed of his ex-boss. When House came out of the bathroom, Chase could hear him make a biting comment and a command to sleep on the couch, but at this point there was nothing Chase could do but fall asleep.

--

Chase woke up, his head pounding and his body aching. Before he opened his eyes, he felt the warmth that only a human body could have provided. For a moment he thought it was Cameron, until he remembered the fight that had left to the demise of their relationship. He cracked his eye open to see the person that he supposedly slept with, and immediately jumped out of the bed.

Waking up to House in the same bed as himself was a sign to stop drinking, even if he could appreciate that House wasn't entirely ugly when he wasn't conscious. Chase's memories of the previous night were a bit fuzzy. He recalled finishing a bottle of whiskey last night with House, but he remembered nothing after that. Looking down at what he was wearing he found that he was still wearing his underwear and felt better. Chase had no desire to find out how unbearable House would be if they had actually had sex together.

House watched Chase have a minor panic attack at the possibility of having sex with him from the comfort of his bed. House decided to give the young doctor a break, to spare himself from possible weeks of awkwardness between the two of them. After all, he needed Chase in order to further rig the betting pool on the competition between the numbers.

"Don't worry your pretty little head. Your pert white ass remains untouched by me, despite your pleas last night for me to do otherwise."

"I asked no such thing of you!"

"Believe what you want to. Either way, last night will be a night I will always remember." House then got out of bed and limped into his bathroom before Chase got in first and he was waiting outside of the door for three hours to have the chance to piss in his own toilet. Chase watched House limp into his bathroom with amazing speed before collapsing into the bed hoping that House was lying.

Chase laid in bed, trying to remember what had happened the night before. His memory was coming to him in pieces, but by the time House had finished his shower he knew exactly what had happened last night. He knew that nothing had happened between him and House last night, but he felt a slight amount of guilt for imposing on House in such a way. Although he couldn't help but wonder why House would extend such and offer to him.

It wasn't like House to do something out of consideration for another person. Especially if it involved any amount of self-sacrifice. Chase thought about House's behavior some more before he decided that no one but House knew the reasons behind House's actions. He picked up his dingy scrubs in the corner that he apparently flung them to before collapsing on House's bed. After putting them on, he wandered into the kitchen, looking for something to eat before heading over to his apartment. He was starving, and had spent what was left in his wallet on that bottle of whiskey last night. House wouldn't miss a couple of slices of bread from his kitchen. Just as he was fishing out a loaf of bread from the bowels of House's refrigerator, he was interrupted by House's slightly raspy voice.

"I want pancakes. Wilson left some dry mix in a container in either the fridge or one of the cupboards. I'll let you borrow some clean clothes and take a shower if you make be breakfast."

Chase considered House's offer. While he hated having to do menial tasks for House, something that he thought was done with after being fired, he hated being dirty even more. Sighing, he went to look for Wilson's pancake mix.

Once Chase had finished making House's beloved pancakes, he headed towards the shower. Once he finished disrobing, he relaxed under the hot spray, letting go of the tension in his muscles. At the moment it didn't bother him that House was in the next room, looking for the most hideous outfit that he owned in some attempt to embarrass him, or that he had to go back to work tomorrow and face his new ex-fiancée. For the first time in a few days, Chase felt completely at peace, and it was wonderful.

Once he had finished washing himself, he slowly stepped out of the shower and grabbed the nearest towel, and attempted to dry his hair as thoroughly as possible. He doubted that House owned a hairdryer, so he resigned himself to having to let his hair air dry. When he was done toweling the rest of himself off he walked into House's bedroom, the towel wrapped around his waist.

"I'm just going to grab the first thing I see, have anything you don't want me wearing?"

"The leather jacket is off limits. Also, make an effort not to pick the most hideous combination of clothing possible."

"Duly noted."

It took Chase only a matter of minutes to pick out some clothing from House's closet. When he had pulled on a pair of pants and some socks, he wandered into the kitchen, hoping that House had not eaten all of the pancakes. He was in luck, House had not eaten all the pancakes that he had prepared. At the moment House was rather preoccupied with staring at Chase's bare chest. However, his dumbfounded look quickly vanished.

"I wasn't aware that I owned an invisible shirt."

"Very funny House. I'm in a bit of a hurry, I have wedding plans to cancel, and I'm hoping that the caterer will return the deposit."

Despite his excuse, Chase seated himself at the table to eat. House took notice of this, but declined to comment.

"Shouldn't Cameron be doing that? I assume that she planned every little detail of your wedding; down to the cuff links that you would wear."

Chase let out a sigh. "She should, but I want this relationship to be over with already. She wanted to change me into a person that I didn't want to be, and she was meddling in aspects of my past that I wanted to be left alone. If I let her take care of this, then she'll end up wanting to get back together. And I'm through with her."

House raised an eyebrow, almost not believing Chase. "Weren't you the one who was pushing for the relationship in the first place? After all, you were the one you got drunk in a bar last night. Did one night of hard drinking clear your head about your feelings for Cameron?"

Chase looked at House, irritated that he would ask such a question. Chase had thought that House wouldn't meddle in his personal affairs once he had fired him. He should have known better. Just because House had fired him, didn't mean that he was any less interesting. Even though Chase knew the answer, he couldn't help but asking.

"Why do you care? It's not as if it matters to you anyway, unless your suddenly interested in Cameron again."

House smirked, from Chase's tone of voice it was obvious that Cameron's attempts at changing his personality weren't the only reasons why Chase wasn't crawling back to her.

"Why? Because it's interesting, that's why. Now spill."

Chase sighed. There was just no getting around House once he wanted to know something. Chase knew that if he refused to tell him now, then he would probably slowly torture him at work until he got his answer.

"When Cameron dumped me, I realized that it wasn't going to work out between us anyway. I didn't really want to admit to myself that the first girl that I wanted to marry had broken up with me, so I went to a bar and got drunk. Somewhere around the fifth shot of whiskey, I started to notice everything that went wrong with our relationship, and came to the conclusion that it wouldn't have lasted anyway. I couldn't give her what she wanted out of a relationship, and quite frankly I didn't want to give her those things. I should have known it wouldn't last, none of my relationships ever do. I hope you're happy in knowing House, because you've made me miserable. Not like that's a surprise."

With that Chase finished getting ready, and stepped out of the apartment. House stared after him as he left, finishing his pancakes and wondering if Chase would clean his clothes before returning them. He supposed that he should feel somewhat guilty over distressing Chase so soon after a break-up, but he for some reason he found himself rather glad at the recent turn of events. Which, upon further reflection was rather confusing. Perhaps Wilson would have some insight on this new development.

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AN: And that's it! My first House MD fanfiction that I've posted. I'm very interested in what anyone may think about this, so please leave a review to tell me what you think. If anyone's interested, I could use a beta. I need someone to look over my work after I do, bounce ideas back and forth with, and kick my ass into gear when I'm not updating. Also someone who will notify me when they are not available. (That's the most important!)

Please PM me if interested.