Title: Trust

Summary: What if Chase had gone to speak to House instead of snooping around? What could a confrontation have lead to?

Trigger: House yelling at Chase after he screws up with the angiogram

Time Frame: During Control

Pairing: House/Chase

Word Count: 1,197

Author's Note: What can I say? I just want to write some House/Chase. I think that they work because Chase has something about him. He was watching House in Occam's Razor; why the hell would he be doing that if he didn't have some sort of interest (romantic, sexual or other) in House? And yeah, I know I said that I don't believe in House/Chase in Doppelganger, but I've changed my mind...

Disclaimer: There's boy/boy here, so if you don't like that, please look away. I don't own House or any of the characters, so please don't sue me. And if you don't like this pairing, then ignore this and come back later.


"He's not gonna fire you," Cameron says gently.

"I'd fire you," Foreman says, pretending to shoot Chase with two fingers. "Bye. Bye."

Chase's voice is practically a monotone when he finally comments,

"I screw up, the patient dies, I'll never get another job."

He sighs.

"I'm gonna go talk to him," he announces. "See if I can do something about it."

He gets up out of his chair and walks towards the door. Cameron stares at him, struck dumb. Foreman somehow manages to find a voice for his disbelief.

"You're going to talk to House?" he asks incredulously.

"If it saves my job."

He leaves the room before any other response can be made. The door shuts behind him with a gentle click, leaving Cameron and Foreman staring at it.

"He's fired," Foreman says, looking at Cameron.

"No question," Cameron agrees.

- - - - -

Chase reaches House's office just as Wilson is leaving.

"Dr Wilson," he says in acknowledgement.

"Dr Chase," Wilson replies.

He reaches out to block Chase's path.

"If you're in there to see House..." he begins.

"My job's on the line."

"Oh. Go right on in then," Wilson relinquishes, moving his arm so that Chase can get past and beginning to walk away.

"Thanks... I think."

Chase pushes the door open and walks in. House is sitting in his chair by the computer when the young intensivist enters the room. He looks up.

"And why are you here? Shouldn't you be more concerned with the patient?" he asks.

"I made a mistake," Chase says.

"Yeah, we know that," House points out. "Why are you here?"

"Because I could have redone the angiogram. I screwed up once, I wouldn't have done it again."

"What proof do you have of that when you didn't even explain why you screwed up the first time?" House asks.

"I was... I was flirting with a nurse, it won't happen again," Chase insists.

"And why were you flirting?"

"She was hot - what does this matter anyway? It was a one-time mistake, it wouldn't have happened again!"

"How do you know that?"

The question cuts the air like a knife. Chase stares at House, insensed.

"Don't you trust me?" he asks.

"It wouldn't have looked good to send you to redo the thing you screwed up the first time."

"And since when did you care about that?" Chase demands.

"And since when did these questions matter?" House asks.

He stands up to be on Chase's eye level.

"What do you really want to ask?"

Chase looks away for a moment, gathering courage, then looks back.

"Are you gonna fire me?" he asks.

"That depends," House says. "Are you going to kiss my ass? Beg?"

"Why do you want me to debase myself?" Chase snaps. "I'm not your lapdog. I am not going to suck up to you just because of my job."

"You should. You could get fired."

"But it wouldn't be my fault if she died, she didn't have a clot!"

"You still messed up."

"I made one mistake! It shouldn't cost me my career!"

Chase is shouting now, anger burning in his chest. His eyes are stinging, as though he's about to cry.

"Why are you such an ass?" he asks.

"Because I am," House replies. "Why is that such a problem?"

It's a lost cause. Chase can tell and he's not happy about it. In fact, he's pretty cut up about it. It's not that difficult to tell when it's House. He hits you with rhetoric, answers your questions with questions, is a general pain in the neck. Chase sighs, giving up.

"I wanted to be like you," he says, trying and failing to keep his misery out of his voice as moisture pools in his lower eyelids. "To be as good as you. And you... you just don't give a damn. You don't give a damn about me or my job."

He turns away angrily to hide the tear dripping down his cheek, then looks back over his shoulder, the damp track down his skin catching the limited light.

"You know what?" he says, his voice trembling slightly. "Fire me. I don't care. I don't give a damn about you either."

He turns away and stalks over to the door. His hand is on the door handle when House's voice cuts across the room.

"I'm not gonna fire you."

Chase stops, another tear trickling down his cheek in the silence. He turns and looks into House's piercing blue eyes, meeting the stare unwaveringly even as the tear makes it slow way down his face in clear view.

"And why's that?" he asks.

"That's not the real question," House shoots back, limping towards Chase with a neutral expression on his face. "The real question is how have you gone from desperately trying to keep your job to not giving a crap in under ten minutes?"

Chase falters, dropping his gaze to the floor. House is now standing directly in front of him and Chase now has an interesting view of the older man's shoes.

"Is it because I don't give a crap?" House asks.

Chase nods once, the movement almost imperceptible.

House observes, "That's nothing new. Why has it suddenly become an issue?"

"Because... because I..."

"Yes?"

Chase looks up into House's eyes.

"Because I like you," he mumbles.

"Like me, or like like me?"

Emotions suddenly bubble over. There's unhappiness, sure, for obvious reasons. Frustration because House is being so flippant over something that means so much to him. And... desire? It's time for a choice. He can either walk out in frustration, as he has done so many times with House, or he can face up to the fact that there is something about House that draws him in, and do something about it. Chase decides. He puts his arms around House's neck, pulling the older man's body towards him, and presses his lips to House's. He closes his eyes to enjoy the other sensations of the kiss: the scratch of stubble on the edges of his lips, the faint scent of the older man's aftershave, the taste of his mouth as he gently coaxes House's lips apart to taste him, to be part of him...

Then Chase realises what he's doing. He is kissing his boss. His misanthropic, grouchy, liable-to-fire-him, straight boss. His arms drop and he pulls away, looking at the floor and House's shoes.

"I shouldn't've done that," he mumbles. "I'm sorry, I-"

House's hand is suddenly on Chase's chin, lifting his head. Then House begins to kiss him. Chase freezes momentarily, letting the sensation of stubble-scent-kiss wash over him, before House's tongue makes insist movements towards opening Chase's lips. Chase opens his mouth and the kiss deepens, passionate and tender at the same time. When it finally comes to its natural end, Chase parts from House reluctantly, unwilling to let the other man go. House raises his eyebrows, a small but so sexy smile on his lips.

"You should have thought of this earlier," he admonishes gently as he lets his hand drop.

"Shut up," Chase murmurs.

"Make me."

"Love to."

And Chase puts his arms around House's neck again with another passionate kiss.