7
"Hello children! Looks to me like we have a new case!" said House brightly, walking into his office. Chase was hot on his heels, having driven House to work in his Mini-Cooper ("How gay can you get?"). He was fuming.
House had kept him up all night, singing traditional songs imitating Chase's accent and banging his cane on the bedroom wall.
To top it off, now Cameron was staring him down again.
"Hey, Mother Theresa, stop grinding Chase into sausages with your eyes. I need him alive for that sex." Said House, smirking at Chase's discomfort.
Cameron was about to retort, but Cuddy walked into the office.
"House!"
"Which one?" asked House jokingly, giving Chase a slap on the ass. Chase squaled indignantly.
"The misanthropic asshole."
"Robbie, I believe she's here for you."
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"So… 18-year-old, male, Caucasian. Slight fever, ash in the abdominal region, vomiting, loss of appetite, headaches, bleeding from his ears. Blimey, if it weren't the ears, I'd think he was pregnant! Go!"
"Allergy?"
"The bleeding doesn't fit, hubby." Said House, grinning evilly. Chase rolled his eyes.
"Cancer?" asked Cameron, in attempt to get noticed.
"That was stupid." Said House, clearly not impressed. "But, just in case, the full MRI was clean."
"Maybe…"
"IT'S NOT LUPUS, FOREMAN!!!" yelled everyone.
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"Hello, I'm Dr. Chase." Greeted Chase disinterestedly as he walked into the new patient's hospital room. His mind was on House, as usual.
"Hi."
Chase smiled softly at the youth. He was quite pretty. Dark hair, blue eyes. Though not as blue as House's. House's were like X-rays. The patient's were steely and cold.
"So, Mr. Roberts…"
"Call me Ian."
Chase cleared his throat, feeling slightly out of place.
"Ian… When did your symptoms first start?"
"I have no idea. I didn't notice before I started seizing. Is that hair naturally blonde?" the boy asked, his eyes twinkling evilly.
"Um…" Chase looked down. "Yes. Uh… Did you experience this kind of um… stuff… before?"
"What exactly? The seizing or the interest in pretty British doctors." He asked, smirking.
Chase's head shot upward and he winced, feeling his neck crack and start hurting. Great.
"The seizing. And I'm Australian."
"Oh, my Granddad's lived down under."
"Good for you." Said Chase sharply. He wanted to get this over with. "Any history of cancer in the family?"
"Not that I know. But don't worry, honey. Cancer isn't an STD, right?" said the boy boldly and slipped his hand to tough Chase's thigh.
"WHAT IS YOUR PROBLEM?" hissed Chase, standing up at once, feeling the pain in his neck get worse. He huffed and walked out, his heart beating fast. He felt disgusting.
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"I am never going in there again." Said Chase, groaning at the pain in his neck.
"Yes, you are. I'm your boss and I tell you what to do." Said House, eyeing Chase.
They were sitting on the couch at home, House watching the telly and Chase trying to soothe the pain in his neck.
"And you're also my reluctant husband. And that little shit was –"
"Sexual harassment? Not if you initiated it." Said House crossly, smirking, though inside he was fuming. How dare that piece of immature dog dung touch Chase? The Aussie was his, even if he didn't want it – he reminded himself. But he knew it. He was falling for the wombat. And hard.
"Initiated it? I hated it!" snapped Chase.
"You strode into the room, looking all innocent and sexy. That was enough."
"But… Hey! You think I'm sexy!" said Chase, his heart singing.
"Who doesn't? I think even Foreman thinks about you every night as he touches his –"
"GROSS!"
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"Chase! Would you stop moaning?"
"Shut up, House! Can't you see I'm in pain?" gasped Chase, gripping his neck. "If it weren't for that patient – "
"Or your sex-appeal that you fling everywhere." Joked House, while feeling concerned.
His wombat was in pain. Because of that moron. And there was hell to pay.
He pushed his Vicodin towards Robert. Chase looked at it in surprise.
"Your Vicodin?" House never shared with anyone.
"Mama taught me to share." House said, looking everywhere but at Chase. This was getting ridiculous. They were acting like a pair of Catholic schoolgirls.
Chase sighed and, understanding he had no choice, popped a pill into his mouth.
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Five minutes later, he whined.
"House!"
"What?"
"My neck still hurts!"
"Take another Vicodin!"
"House!"
"WHAT?"
"You're my husband. Give me a massage."
House looked up in shock. Chase was asking him for closeness. They hadn't touched properly since that kiss at the hospital.
Without words, House shifted on the couch and put his hands on Chase's clothed back.
Chase watched him out of the corner of his eye, not believing his luck. Will he really touch me?
"I'm gonna have to take your shirt off." Said House, his voice suddenly hoarse.
Chase nodded, suddenly feeling strange. The atmosphere had changed from joking to somewhat erotic.
House's hands gripped the edge of Chase's shirt. He was thankful Chase had his back to him, so he didn't see slight blush and goofy grin on House's face.
He lifted the shirt softly, caressing the tanned skin underneath. Chase lifted his arms a little, groaning at the pain in his neck. House took his shirt off as quickly as possible. He remembered a line from Wilson's favorite movie – "The Titanic" – "It was the most erotic moment of my life.". Ironically, it was and House had never portrayed himself as a 101-year-old Granny with sex issues.
Chase's breath hitched when he felt House's soft hands on his aching back. House's hands were a little cold, but he enjoyed it, feeling the calloused fingers caressing his neck.
House pressed down gently, kneading the skin as soft as he'd imagined it to be. Chase moaned silently, feeling the tension go away.
House nearly moaned himself at Chase's quiet whimpers. He knew it now – he was attracted to the little wombat. He couldn't help it – he touched the soft hair on Chase's head. It was really soft, perfect.
Chase's breath sped up. House felt his heart beat furiously. Why? Why?! WHY?!
Suddenly Chase flipped around on the couch, looking House directly in the eyes. House looked like a dear caught in the headlights. He wasn't expecting that. He gulped, looking into the cerulean pools of blue.
Chase propped himself up on his elbows and drew a little closer.
"Greg…"
That did it. Chase sitting there, shirtless, silently moaning his name, needing him, wanting him…
House crashed their lips together, putting his arms around Chase. Chase moaned into his mouth and shifted, trying to press himself even nearer to House.
They fitted perfectly. They were perfect.
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Author's Notes: Guys, thank you so much for reading. This chapter was longer than I'd expected, but you know how it is. My muse is screwing around with me. Did you like some Robbie-Greg action? ;) Anyway, next chapter will be up soon. And all the symptoms I describes were made up as I went along, so I'm not sure about how they pass to the guys' suggestions.
Oh and BTW, I'm doing to Med School!!!