Chapter Ten:

Chapter Ten: Attitude Adjustment

It'd been about a few weeks since Foreman had his moment with Wilson (It'd probably been much longer…but Foreman wasn't counting). Wilson and House had stopped speaking with each other, despite the fact that lived together. House made out with Chase at least once a day; it wrecked Foreman's nerves, but he weren't to take action yet. What with so many options on how to beat the crud out of him, there was a lot to think about. However, maybe today wasn't the right day.

House had come in…rather late to add on to it. Chase was sitting by Forman, who had started dressing more casually than usual. House was still taking bets on the length of Foreman's masculinity, and Cameron still wanted to grope him to find out. Chase refused to answer…he honestly didn't know the answer: he wasn't measuring.

"Can we not do this today?" Foreman asked in a new level of annoyance.

"What? Do you want me to undress you to find out myself? That'd be no fun." House sneered. "If the wombat would answer, he'd be fifty bucks richer, and we wouldn't have Cameron sexually harassing you."

"Leave him alone."

Foreman looked to his left, at Chase, who'd muttered the words with some sort of unknown bitterness in his voice. He swallowed, and his Adam's apple bobbed in his throat.

House set his eyes upon him, in a strange curiosity.

"…And I'm a joey." Chase added.

"Would our baby kangaroo like to answer the fifty dollar question?" House asked, ignoring the first of Chase's comments.

"I said leave him alone." Chase demanded again, raising his voice slightly. He grabbed Foreman's hand from under the table and held on to it.

"And I said I wanted Cuddy to sleep with me last night." House stepped closer to him-Chase's grip on Foreman's hand tightened.—"It looks like neither of us get what we want today…" His eyes looked over the flaxen; he watched as Chase tensed and began to blush. His eyes trailed down to Chase's lips, and it wasn't hard for his own lips to follow. But today was different. Today was the wrong day.

Chase's chair flipped over, the cup of pens sitting on the table spilled onto the floor. Cameron jumped from her seat and watched in shock. Chase, who was on the floor, scooted out the way to best of his abilities, then stood. What on earth was happening now? Chase looked around. There was Cameron, House there on the floor, Foreman was in the process of venting out his anger toward his boss, and—

"Eric! Eric, get off him!" Chase had wrapped himself around Foreman's waist; Foreman was busy making his fists come in contact with House. "Eric, stop it! Stop!" yelled Chase, pulling at his partner's waist. He managed to yank Foreman from House, who'd thrown his share of punches to Foreman.

"What the hell?!" House yelled.

"I TOLD YOU TO LEAVE HIM ALONE!!" Chase screamed, extending an angry, shaking finger at House. "What part of that couldn't you understand…?"

House rubbed his face, which was beginning to turn toward a deep shade of red, and let his blue orbs stare at Chase from the top of his eyes.

"What are you two? Conjoined at the penis?" he said darkly. "Learn to fight your own damn battles…" He stood, licked the bit of blood that he noticed at the corner of his lips, and set his eyes onto Foreman.

"If you learn when to quit we wouldn't have the damn problem…" Foreman replied with a tone of warning.

"Now we've resorted to harassing cripples…" House said smartly as he finally stood.

"House; Leave him alone." Chase said boldly. He was annoyed with the man himself, but it was really Foreman he was worrying about. He hadn't expected his Eric to actually act on what he was feeling. He was to be cautious now. He'd never face the wrath of Foreman before…and by the looks of it, he didn't want to. "Look, I don't know the answer to the fucking question." Chase said softly, but harshly.

"Fine." House grabbed his cane and limped his way toward the door, deliberately brushing roughly against Foreman, who was a motion away from throwing more punches had Chase not held him. House grinned wickedly at his adversary, though he mentally took note of how his leg hurt. But he wouldn't let Foreman know that. He pushed the door open with his body weight…maybe he'd go bother Cuddy. With Wilson not speaking to him and all, he was running out of people to be a complete ass to.

Foreman sat in one of the upright chairs. He pinched the bridge of his nose with one hand and massaged his right temple with the other. He was starting to relax a bit, judging by his breathing. Cameron stared at him and let her eyes shift to Chase.

"Wow…" was the only word that left her lips.

"God, Eric, what on earth were you thinking?" Chase asked, checking his partner's face for bruises.

Foreman let go of his bridge and melted a smile onto his face.

"I was thinking of hating him more than usual…"

"Is it impossible for you to bruise?" Chase joked, taking in what few bruises Foreman had. He was sure there were more, but they were just invisible for the time being.

"Was he a good kisser?" Foreman blurted. He really wanted to know. Not once had Chase fought back when House kissed him. Not once.

Chase decided not to answer. It was bold of Foreman to ask him such a question while Cameron was standing there. It was almost wrong.

"You're joking….right?" Chase inquired. Eric really didn't want him to answer…did he?

"Umm—I think I'll just…go now," said Cameron awkwardly; she tried her best to be invisible as she stalked past the table and overturned chair and out the room.

"I was serious." Said Foreman when he was sure Cameron was out of earshot.

Chase remained silent. He wasn't really sure how to answer. He wanted to be honest, but he didn't want whatever he said to come out the wrong way.

"Robbie…I can sit here all day. I'm waiting patiently for your reply." Foreman smiled, despite the fact that he was being completely serious.

"I guess…" Chase mused aloud. It wasn't a lie. Just not all of the truth.

"That's...not a legitimate answer."

"It's better than no answer at all." Chase said sharply. "You're not asking if he's a good kisser. You're asking if I like him."

Foreman's eyes shifted to his lover, nut let his eyes falter; Chase was right: he was actually curious about how Chase felt about House.

"Do you?" Foreman asked casually.

"What of it?"

"I'm not letting you avoid my question. Either you like him or you don't."

Chase shook his head so his hair would fall into his face.

"Eric, I don't know…" he said softly.

Foreman paused…how can you not know how you feel about someone? ...Wait. Never mind. That was completely possible. But Foreman wasn't going to accept that answer. There was a straight--no pun intended—answer to this and he was gonna get it, even if it induced an emotional breakdown in the bathroom…

"I'm not afraid of your answer," assured Foreman. "No matter what the answer is, I still wanna hear it."

"I think you know the answer." Chase was silent a moment, but continued. "I believe that…What he did to you was wrong. It was right bloody cruel of him--"

"And that's why you like him."

"I didn't say that!" Chase protested.

"But you say it all the time…" Foreman looked down, but reversed his actions to look back at Chase. "…and I feel like I can't make you happy anymore." Foreman stood at this, and pushed his chair back.

"…We're breaking up…" Chase said more to himself than anyone; though he was sure Foreman had heard.

"…Don't put it that way; you're making it seem like the world is gonna crash down on us, Chase." Foreman let one last smile melt onto his face before he turned away and left the room.

Foreman didn't know it, but Chase had watched him every step of the way until he couldn't see his fervent, passionate, ardent Eric…

Then he cried…great, now he was crying. Alone…

Chapter Ten-End

A/N:

I know, I know. It has taken me forever and three days to get the new chapter up. However, now that it's summer, I'll probably update pretty often. Not owning, sadly. R&R and delivery of luff pastries…And I apologize if it sucks…eh. Hides behind Foreman