CHAPTER EIGHT

Five days after Forman found him, he was found healthy enough to go home. Wilson came by his room during his lunch break to bring him over to House's apartment. House had already set up rules. No touching anything except the TV, any of Wilson's food was free to have, any of his and Chase would get a whack with the cane. And of course, his room was completely off limits. But at the moment Chase couldn't care less.

He was tired, not having slept much after his first day as a patient. He stayed up at night because of how creepy it was, and stayed up during the day because he was desperate to help. As much as he didn't want to leave and sleep on someone else's couch, at least he was looking forward to the sleep part.

"Are you going to be okay?" Wilson asked as he helped Chase to the couch.

"Yeah."

"If you need anything-"

"I know. I'll be fine."

Wilson nodded. "There's some pasta in the fridge if you get hungry."

The couch had already been set up with blankets and pillows for the injured man. "I'll be fine."

"I know. Get some rest?"

"Yeah. I'll try."

There was an emergency at the hospital that night that needed Dr. House's help. Wilson stayed with him, hoping that Chase would understand.

By the time they got home House was grumpy, even grumpier than usual, and incredibly horny. When they opened the door they found all the lights off except for the soft glow of the TV. Chase was fast asleep, curled defensively under the blanket.

"Thank God, he's asleep. Get to the bedroom, let's fuck before the wombat wakes."

"You know-" but Wilson was cut off by House grabbing his shirt and pulling him in for a harsh kiss.

"Don't even think about it," House warned as he dragged Wilson into the bedroom.

Chase smirked to himself.