Okay guys (and my lovely fangirls) this is my first attempt at Chouse – tell me what you think. All in all, a bit silly. X

Do not own House. Do not own Chase. (I am bidding for the right to his lush hair though...)

Chase was distracted.

This didn't bother Cameron because she was currently daydreaming about House slowly removing her expensive panties.

Chase was actually having similar thoughts, just without the panties. Or Cameron for that matter.

He could try and deny it. He could hide behind his cute hair or Aussie accent, but Chase was crazy about House.

Maybe it was that unclean stubbled look, or the way he leant on his cane when he walked.

Damn Chase found that cane sexy.

Or it might just be the way the older diagnostician picked on him, like a kindergartener pulling a girl's pigtails.

It was the way House looked in those tight jeans – Chase always held his notes down low for a reason; it gave him and excuse to forever focus at crotch height.

He spent months of his life wondering what it would be like to have House buried deep inside his virgin ass, thrusting and pulsing within him.

Right now he was watching House pace the diagnostic's office, sliding his lap coat gently over the area of his groin just in case anyone was deciding to be observant.

They weren't. Cameron was too busy preparing a heated argument for whatever was about to be suggested, and Foreman was polishing his head using the reflection on the back of his coffee spoon.

House wondered behind Chase and whispered in his ear, glancing down at the younger man's crotch,

"There's a legitimate diagnosis for that, you know?"

Blushing all over his cute face, Chase just stuttered.

"There's a cure too..." House trailed his fingers down his cane in a very obvious manner, then stood back up straight.

"Right ducklings! Blood tests all round." They stood up reluctantly to leave.

"Not you Chase – I have some treatment to deliver."

He winked.