Everyone thought he was jealous, in fact, they were sure of it, but he wasn't. Jealousy implied that he was frightened, frightened of losing Wilson to a certain blond intensivist that had captured his gaze as of late, but he knew that he had nothing to fear. If anyone needed to be afraid, it was Chase.
House was the one who held the leash, he was the one who just had to whistle and the oncologist would come running, he was the one who owned Wilson.
All that had happened was that he loosened his grip on that leash, he let Wilson out to play and Chase just so happened to be the new toy. It wouldn't be hard to pull him back, it never was. See, he had been there before all of them, the wives, the flings and certainly before Chase himself and he had no plans of leaving any time soon.
And as he watches them, watches as Chase leans against Wilson's desk, as they move closer and lips automatically find one another, he feels his fingers twitch slightly and a sigh escapes him before he begins to rise to his feet.
Time to remind them about who Jimmy really belonged to.