Okydoky! I'm really sorry this took so long, I've been trying to update since last wednesday, but my document manager has been playing up!

Congratulations to Xandiwasamahomi (apologies for the spelling), wingnut and Sagga Bot, who all correctly guessed that Chase went to a game of cricket when he was little.

Disclaimer: Wish I did own House...

Warnings: fluffyHouse, fluffyChase, a little HousexChase action...

To the Soccerooos: Well done, boys. But we all know that the Italians dive. And that that referee got it way wrong.

Eight: A Love Fulfilled

Chase woke the next morning to the smells of House cooking breakfast. Bacon…eggs…toast…ugh, not that toast!

Chase wrinkled his pretty nose as he came into the kitchen with his hands over his ears. House had burnt the toast and set off the smoke alarm.

'House,' he bellowed over the noise, 'can't you turn that bloody thing off!'

'Can't reach the button!' House yelled back.

Chase rolled his eyes and grabbed House's cane. He then prodded the smoke alarm with it and the shrill beeping stopped.

'That's what you can use this for,' he sighed, twirling it once around his fingers and holding it out to House. House turned around to take the cane, trying not to stare.

Chase was standing before him in nothing but his boxer shorts, showing off his nicely-built body, his ruffled blond hair falling into those cerulean eyes, bandages clinging tightly to his abs. House managed to say, 'You have very pale skin.'

Chase glanced down at his chest and shrugged. 'I've lost my Aussie tan.'

'Do I sense a tinge of regret?' House said teasingly. He tried to push away the thought of Chase, bronzed and gleaming under the Australian sun.

Chase became aware of House's eyes on him and blushed furiously as he remembered the night before.

'I'm going to take a shower, if you don't mind,' he replied. Seeing House shake his head, Chase scurried out of the room.

'How d'you like your eggs?' House called after him, smirking.

Chase straightened up, checked his stitches and swiped the sweat from his brow. They had spent all morning in House's spare room. It had begun with the search for sheet music, but had soon evolved into Chase re-organising the room. He'd just shifted House's desk for the third time – and it looked like House was going to make him move it again.

'Stop!' Chase groaned. 'I don't think my back can take much more of this! I'm not moving it again!' He flopped down onto the carpet in protest, peeking at House from between his fingers.

House limped forwards and prodded his ribs with his cane. 'You gotta move my shelves now,' he replied smugly.

Chase glared at him. 'You're paying for the chiro,' he grimaced.

House smirked. 'You want your memory back, wombat, you work.'

Chase rolled his eyes and stood up again, slowly. Suddenly House was right next to him.

'Besides, I like watching you work,' he growled softly in his ear. He ran his fingers lightly down Chase's ribs, watching the intensivist shiver involuntarily, then lightly brushed Chase's cheek with his lips.

Chase turned red again, turning away to the shelves.

'Right,' he said quickly, 'where d'you want these?'

Lunch was a quiet affair. Everytime Chase and House looked at each other, Chase would blush and look quickly away. House came to the gradual realisation that Chase was embarrassed by everything that had passed between them, which meant that House embarrassed him…

House didn't understand how that could hurt so much.

After lunch, Chase politely asked House if he would play the piano for him again.

'Why don't you just download piano-music to your iPod?'

Chase looked a little taken aback at the sardonic tone.

'But that wouldn't take on the same resonance,' he replied. 'The music is…deeper, more special, when you play it.' He blushed a little as he spoke.

House linked it in his mind…he knew what Chase really meant. 'The music means more to me when you play it…the music speaks to me when you play.' He carefully lowered himself onto the piano stool.

'Well, since you asked so nicely,' he said, and began to play. After a little bit, Chase recognised the song.

He watched as House lost himself in the piano solo of "Age of Reason", the solo that made the song almost as famous as the singer. He listened carefully, closing his eyes and relaxing as his own soul was caught up in the song.

House finished the piece and turned to see Chase leaning back against the couch, his eyes closed, his face slack and peaceful. He looked beautiful like that, and House fought the urge to jump on top of him and kiss and kiss him. Instead he managed to ask, 'You like?'

Chase opened his eyes. 'I didn't know you knew who John Farnham is. He never really made it in America.'

House limped over to the couch and sat down beside him, sighing and stretching his leg. Then he turned to Chase with a look of utmost seriousness on his face, and spoke again.

'I didn't. I still don't. I only know the song because I went looking for the sheet music to great Australian songs.' His fingers drifted to Chase's face, ghosting over his soft cheek, but this time Chase didn't shy away. His eyes were wide and he was staring at House.

'He's a great Australian singer. But…why?' he said after what seemed like eternity.

'Why did I go to the trouble?' Chase nodded. 'I did it for you. Just to see you smile.'

'You…did it for my smile?'

House nodded.

'Like…like you really like my smile?'

House nodded again.

'Like…like you love my smile?'

'What is this, twenty questions? Yes, Robert, I love your smile. And the rest of you, for that matter…'

House trailed off as Chase's fingers lightly brushed the scruff on his chin.

'Good, because I really love your eyes.'

Those electric-blue eyes widened.

'Why on earth didn't you say something sooner?'

Chase flushed. 'I thought that you might have been mucking around, and I didn't want to get hurt,' he mumbled.

House leaned close. 'This isn't "mucking around",' he whispered, his breath tickling Chase's face. Then he captured Chase's mouth, sweetly yet demandingly. Chase kissed back, passionately yet yieldingly, and the kiss deepened. House wound his fingers through that soft golden hair, and felt Chase's fingers dancing on his back.

The kiss ended naturally, both men gasping for air. After a few seconds, Chase smiled wickedly at House. 'Time for bed, my little Greg,' he whispered into House's ear. 'I'll tuck you in.' He lifted House into his arms and carried him off towards the bedroom, leaving House impressed with his wombat's strength.

Gargh! hehehehe I love it! I don't own John Farnham, either :(

Okay, I probably won't update for three weeks or so...holidays, somewhere with no fanfiction access.

Next Chapter: I dunno! You tell me!

Luv, Lady Siruae XXX