Chase chewed on the end of his pen. Usually he used pencils, but he had looked everywhere and couldn't find any. Pens were good enough and didn't taste that bad. Someone opened the glass door roughly, startling Chase. He bit down. Hard.

"Crap." Blue ink flooded his mouth and poured down his chin. Foreman watched, amused at the display.

"You might want to wash your mouth out." Said the Neurologist smugly.

Chase just looked at his colleague with one hand cupped under his chin to stop ink from ruining his shirt, although most people would encourage him to dye his shirt blue, as it would look better and actually go more with his tie. He was wearing a dusty orange shirt with vertical, yellow stripes. The look was completed with an emerald green tie.

Walking over to the sink, the Intensivist sighed. He didn't like Foreman that much. Sure, he could tolerate him, and occasionally have a good conversation and a laugh with him, but that was when someone else was around. When they were alone together, it was best if they both kept their mouths shut.

The door opened again as Chase was taking a mouthful of water out of a mug. He sloshed the liquid around in his mouth before spitting it out in the sink. He looked over his shoulder and saw that House and Cameron had walked in too.

He managed a small smile. He was always amused when House would push and harass Foreman. It was quite funny, and it touched Chase, because he knew that House was only doing it because Chase and Foreman clashed.

House looked at Chase for a long moment. "You better not have stained my mug." He said. His tone was flat but had a warning growl in it that was only heard on a subconscious level, giving Chase a feeling of dread.

He looked at the mug. It had a blue mark where he'd been drinking. "It'll wash off." he said, not entirely believing his own words.

There was a very sceptical look on House's face, but the argument was put aside for another moment, though House made biting jokes for the rest of the day. Even though the sleeve of Chase's white lab coat was blue, he wouldn't let him take it off.

Chase threw his keys onto the bench. It had been a long day and all he wanted to do was to curl up on a chair and listen to some music as he read a book. For some reason, he couldn't read without background noise.

He read for half an hour, before he had to stop and devote his full attention to the song 'Down Under', which reminded him of Australia. He sung along to it off key.

And she said: I come from the land down under.
Where women glow and men plunder.
Did you hear did you hear that thunder?
Y-

"Wow. You should go on 'American Idol'." House mocked, cutting Chase's singing off. "Do me a favour and go get singing lessons before my ears start bleeding."

"How did you get my key? I never gave you my key!"

"I lifted it then went to a key-cutter's and copied it. You're my boyfriend, I have the right to have a key." House said as he made his way into the kitchen. He had a parcel under his arm.

"What's that?"

House smirked. "Just a gift for my favourite Australian. Don't get up. I'll show you later. You have to earn it first."

Chase figured he should be worried, but he wasn't really since he knew he what was coming. Because he did know what was coming, he was a bit paranoid about the ink in his mouth, which he knew was still there.

House came back in and stood in front of Chase. The young doctor had his feet tucked underneath him as he sat on his chair, and there was a book open on his lap. House grabbed the book, being careful not to loose the page, and put it on the table next to the chair. Then he slowly took Chase's wire-rimmed reading glasses off.

House was being very gentle as he let his fingers brush the sides of his lover's face. Chase's eyes fluttered close. Normally House wouldn't want to be so affectionate, but he would make up for it soon when he'd be extra rough.

He grabbed Chase's tie, pulling it up roughly, and then pushed him down, hard, onto the couch. "That shirt is revolting." House knelt on the couch, with one leg on either side of Chase's.

Chase could see that House had taken a Vicodin recently, something for which he was grateful. House threw his cane onto the chair Chase had been sitting on a moment ago.

Placing a hand on the collar of Chase's shirt, on both sides of the tie, and he ripped the shirt apart, sending buttons everywhere.

"God, yes." Chase said through clenched teeth.

"Shut up." House said, as more of a growl then as actual words. "Don't speak, or I'll beat you with my cane."

Chase smiled. It was so hard to find an attractive, blue-eye man who liked having control over people. It had taken Chase ages to find one, and he had found an amazing one.

House used the ugly green tie, to tie Chase's hands together. "Go into the bedroom." House raised an eyebrow as he spoke, "I'll be there soon".

Chase waited in the bedroom for ages, and was tempted to start things off himself, but then House limped in and he saw that Chase was smiling brighter then he'd ever seen him smile. He'd seen the jar in his hand.

"E-bay." The older man explained. "I hope you like it." He held up the jar of vegemite. " 'Cause you're going to be licking this of my body for the rest of the night."

Chase woke up the next morning with the taste of vegemite in his mouth, his hands tied to the bars of the headboard above him, and bite marks all along his collarbones. His orange and yellow shirt was wrinkled up on the floor next to his pants and House had gone sometime in the night.

He chose a dark green shirt with white patterns on it, and a pale lime green tie, knowing that House would hate it. Hopefully he would hate it enough to rip it off again as soon as they got home that evening.

At work Chase watched House act normally, and no one suspected that anything was out of the ordinary. Except for Wilson, who seemed to be the best at reading House.

"Why do you have blue ink on your lips?"

House touched his lips with his fingers. It must have rubbed off from when he had been kissing Chase that night. He needed to think of an excuse, and fast.

House thumped the ground with his cane in mock annoyance. "I knew I couldn't trust Chase to wash that damn mug."

I originally posted this as a oneshot, but at the new yearI got an idea. Chapter two is coming soon.