This is my first House/Chase fan fic so i'm not sure how it will turn out, however i do have an idea of what i want to write! I hope you enjoy!


Robert Chase sat in the park, the rain soaked him through but he didn't care, he just sat there, blonde hair plastered to his head, the alcohol coursing through his system kept him warm a mixture of mainly whiskey with whatever else the bar man had been giving him.

"In case you haven't noticed it's raining out here."

Chase looked up through bleary eyes to see House looking down at him and he felt the anger rise in his chest. He didn't want to deal with House now, didn't want to deal with anyone in fact.

"Go away." He spat but House sat down next to him anyway, twirling the cane through his fingers looking ahead into the empty park, no one was mad enough to come here, not in this weather.

"You know its cold out here right?"

Chase turned around, nearly falling of the bench to glare at him, grateful that the rain hid his tears. "No one is asking you to sit here, House," he pretty much shouted, standing up, ready to leave.

House grabbed his arm, "I'm sorry I never told you, Robert." House said, barley audible.

The use of his first name stopped Chase in his tracks as he swayed slightly, "My dad is dead, House, you knew and you never told me. I knew you were an
ass, from work and how you treated Cameron on that date. Yeah she told me about how you brought up her dead husband, classic House."

House looked momentarily taken back and Chase enjoyed the way he seemed to squirm. House didn't realize how close Chase and Cameron were to have
discussed that, and for some reason it annoyed House.

"But he was my dad, and you never- you never told me! How can you make that up to me?" Chase spluttered, the alcohol catching up with him. He just
wanted to sleep.

House frowned; the severity of the situation began to sink into him, "How about I get you out of the rain?"

Chase stopped in his tracks, not sure whether or not to believe the older, soaked man in front of him. "Are you insane?! I killed a patient! My dad is
dead! I want to stay here in the rain." He was focusing so not slurring his words he never saw House stand.

He leaned in close to Chase, so close it scared him slightly, "If you don't get into my god damned car I'll shove my cane so far up your ass
you'll be coughing up splinters."

Chase gulped, nodding and the two men made it to the car. Occasionally Chase would stumble, but House found himself worrying about the wombat and resisted
the urge to torment him.

There was silence as House drove. He made no attempt to at conversation, watching the rain pelt down the car window, concentrating on driving.
Occasionally he would throw a look at Chase and found himself smiling gently at his intensivist who was fighting hard to stay awake.

The heat of the car seemed to make Chase aware of how very cold he actually was and he shivered.

"Cold?" House asked, but there was no reply and House shook his head, turning up the heating.

Chase wondered why his boss was being so nice to him, and he wondered even more why he liked the feeling of having House concerned about him. "Where
are we going?" Chase asked heavily. He didn't know where he was and his eyes were finding it hard to concentrate on any landmarks as they whizzed by.

"My place." House grunted as he carried on driving.

They pulled up outside House's apartment and got out, once inside House limped into the kitchen and poured Chase a glass of water. Chase took it and sat down, focusing his eyes on the floor, he didn't look up when House spoke.

"I'm going to get into some dry clothes; I'll leave you some out. Get changed I don't want you catching anything and having time off work."

There was no room for debate and Chase took a small sip of water, grateful for something that wasn't alcoholic. Once House had disappeared Chase looked up to see what House's place was like. It was a mess, medical journals were strewn across the floor, used glasses littered the small coffee table in front of him and he could see at least an inch of dust on the large TV that was
placed in front of the sofa.

The only clean thing in the whole room was the piano, that sat in the corner of the room and Chase imagined what it would be like to play it. He got up
slowly and made his way to the bench. He sat down quietly so House wouldn't hear him, wanting to touch the immaculate keys, to touch the ones that House
had touched, to feel the intoxication of music as it poured through him. He imagined House, sitting there, long fingers poised over the notes. I do not
have feelings for House
Chase repeated in his head, but he knew he was lying. He had not told anyone except his brother about his sexuality and he had
fought hard to keep it a secret from everyone at the hospital. Having a crush on your boss was professional suicide, especially when your boss was as anal
as House, who also wasn't gay.

Chase shook his head trying to clear the fuzzyness that had settled in his
brain, trying to remove the images of House. You're pissed at him just remember that, his brain tried to comfort him as he placed his fingers over the piano
and closed his eyes, trying to remember what he was taught so long ago. He didn't even realize he was singing as he played.

I've waited so long to see you,
Waited so long for you to be near
It's killing me, haunting me,
I'm falling apart and no one can save me.

House heard the piano and frowned. The piano was his place, the one place where he could truly let go of everything, where for a brief time he could ignore the pain that racked his leg. He made his way to the living room and stopped, he could hear Chase signing and was floored, his voice was soft but beautiful, and it made House shiver from head to toe. There was so much emotion played into the words that he stood there for awhile before the voice trailed of and he hear the sound of silent sobbing.

"Don't get tears on my piano, Wombat." House said, causing Chase to jump upright, and in his drunken state he toppled over into an ungraceful pile of the floor. House winced as Chase's head caught the corner of the stool with a crack and House kneeled down next to him as quickly as his leg would let him. "Chase, you okay?" His heart pounded in his chest, God, I hope your okay.

"Head hurts," Chase mumbled, feeling some blood trickle down the side of his face. He stood up slowly, enjoying the fact that House's hand was on his arm steadying him and guiding him to the couch.

"Sit down, I'll get some antiseptic. It's a minor cut, you've probably caused more trouble to my bench than your hard head."

Chase smiled, this didn't seem like the House he knew at work, and he liked it, liked him.

"Put this on while you're at it." House said as he threw a black Rolling Stones t-shirt at Chase. Taking off his wet shirt House looked at Chase and found himself gawping a little at the sight of him in no shirt, Chase is not gay! He is not gay! House's mind berated him and he began to regret his decision to bring Chase back to his place.

Once Chase was dressed, House moved some stuff aside on the coffee table and sat down, opening up his first aid kit, "How much did you drink tonight?"
House asked, trying to make conversation.

Chase shrugged, "A lot, I think." He winced as House applied some antiseptic, but enjoyed the warmth from the older man's hands as they brushed against his skin. For some reason Chase began to cry. He ducked his head so House wouldn't see him. He felt the weight of the couch change, and then an arm around his shoulders. House was hugging him and for some reason this was good. Maybe it was a mixture of the alcohol and his grief that made him lean into House, ready to be comforted.

House's tightened his arms around him. "I'm sorry I never told you," he whispered.

Chase nodded against his chest, trying to control the overwhelming sadness that had descended. "I never- never got on with my dad, but that woman died
because of me," Chase gasped.

"You gave her time with her children before she died, you gave them a chance to say goodbye," House said, trying his best to comfort the young man, resisting running his fingers through his silky blonde hair.

"Why didn't you tell me?" Chase whispered, the warmth from House making him sleepy, but he had to ask.

House gulped nervously. How much should he tell Chase? Wilson was the only one who knew about him, could he risk ruining the solitary bubble he had built
around himself. "I tried to protect you; I wanted so badly to protect you," he whispered.

Chase sat up, heart pounding. "Why?"

"I'm gay, have been for a while. No one but Wilson knows, I wanted to protect you because I like you, however I do understand that these feelings
will not be returned and I ask you out of respect to speak to no one about my sexuality."

Once again the alcohol made Chase do something he thought he may regret. He leaned in and kissed House on the lips, enjoying the softness of his lips. He
didn't remember pulling apart, and falling asleep on House's shoulder.


Well thats the first chapter! Thanks for reading! Let me know what you think please?

Just replaced the chapter, thank to quack675 for reworking this for me. Means it wont be too confusing too readers now :)