Ok…I said I would never read slash. I’ve always…disagreed with it. Then I read some. Quietly. Then the other day…this idea just hit me full force. I had to write. This wasn’ t even a ship I was ever interested in. But…I thought I had a really good story, an actually love story not just a House and Chase doing each other story(though there will be some of that, later). So….here it is. It’ll follow canon, mostly, though the focus will be on their relationship. It starts in Detox and continues forward from there.

I am seriously enjoying writing this…I hope you guys enjoy reading it.

Unfortunately, I don’t own House M.D. But it’d be the best Christmas present ever.

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He wasn’t sure where it came from, in the beginning. Robert Chase was not, as so many people had thought either privately or in hushed whispers, gay. He was attracted to women, loved women, had never been sexually attracted to a man.

So, in the beginning, he told himself he was just tired. How that explained it, he’d never know. But it was easy. His heart fluttered when House brushed his hand giving him an x-ray…he was tired. His chest constricted at the brilliant blue in those limitless eyes…he was tired. His breath caught at the particular intensity of some comment or other…he was tired. The list grew and so did his frustration. He was tired, he was bored, he was nervous, he was anything, anything, but attracted to House.

He couldn’t be attracted to House.

Unfortunately for his sanity, couldn’t is a relative word in this world. Reality is never what it seems, and anything written off as an impossibility is almost sure to be disproven at some point or other. At some point, the rationalizations stopped. Maybe it was sometime after the first time he dreamed of waking up beside his boss. Maybe it was just one day when House didn’t make him feel like shit and he decided to say ‘the hell with it’, and accept this thing. Whatever it was. He wasn’t sure, with any kind of certainty, when his feelings for House stopped causing him to violently deny them.

When he thought on it later, though, he could see the moment when(in his mind) their relationship had begun to edge from its typical dysfunction to a new kind that was infinitely more complex.

HHHHHHHHH

Detox

“This is insane.” Chase stabbed his salad a little harder than necessary, his fork missing the lettuce he aimed for and instead shoving it across the plastic bowl.

“No more insane than any of the things House does. She’s just trying to make him see he’s got a problem. You know House communicates in bets. I guess she thought this’d be a good way to do it.” Foreman. Trust him to give something cold and logical.

“Yeah but…House does what he does to save a patient. Cuddy’s not…saving anybody.”

“Except maybe House’s liver, somewhere down the line.”

“Oh come on. Do you really think he’ll stop? He’ll win his month off clinic duty or he’ll crack and he won’t, but either way do you think House is really gonna give up the Vicodin?”

Foreman sighed, heavily. “No. Hell no.”

“Exactly. He’s just…suffering for no reason.”

“And making us suffer.”

Or course. Why care for House’s suffering when he was being such an ass? Because he had known him longer, because he was more empathetic…a dozen reasons, but the one that made most sense was the way his chest had ached when he had seen his stubborn boss tremble and lean against the wall. “Sure. We’re suffering. We’ll get through it. This kid, on the other hand, might not. He needs House, not…us and some cheap imitation.”

“I hope Cuddy realizes that before he’s dead. “

Chase nodded, agreed, continued on as the conversation shifted from their case problems to the new hispanic nurse in cardiology who had just left the table next to them. It was all autopilot, his mind drifting upstairs to House’s office, the pain he knew the man must be in, the question of whether or not he’d be too stubborn to take Vicodin if Chase brought him a script…if not, at least maybe he could convince him to go home and sleep through some of the worst of it, communicate with them over the phone….

When he split ways with Foreman after dinner he didn’t follow him to the lab. Instead he formulated some excuse about having to run by the bank. Everybody lies…sometimes even good Catholic boys. Or, at least, formerly good Catholic boys.

Alone, he headed up to House’s office.

HHHHHHHHH

He sat alone in the dark, resting fitfully In his chair. Chase watched him before approaching, the way his hand gripped his leg even in sleep, the soft murmurs that escaped his lips, the way he was constantly shifting. He was in too much pain to function, too much pain to even sleep properly. Sure, to be honest with himself, the detox was part of it. But House needed those pills. He didn’t just want the high. No matter what, that was what Chase had to believe. “House?” He stepped closer, voice soft. He hated to disturb his sleep but…this wasn’t exactly comfortable sleep.

There was no answer. Stepping in closer, Chase let his hand fall to House’s shoulder. House jolted awake, angry eyes coming to rest on Chase. Most living things when fixed with that glare would have backed up to twenty feet and started making plans for a will. Chase swallowed hard and let his hand slide away. “Sorry. I just…you weren’t sleeping well. I thought…”

“I’m in pain! What the hell do you expect?” He jerked angrily away, hand falling for his cane. He winced, reached reflexively for his shoulder, so tense from his cane. He hadn’t noticed the pain so much until he came off the Vicodin. Now…everything hurt. His leg most of all.

Before he could think better of it, Chase stepped closer again. “Look, just…relax. I’m sorry I bothered you but don’t get up alright?” Surprisingly enough, House nodded, slightly…then turned and hooked the trash can with his cane, pulling it over far enough to vomit shakily into it. His left arm braced against the wall, shaking. He was so pale, so sick…

It was too much for Chase to bear. His hand fell to his shoulder again, massaged it soothingly. House leaned back into the chair, eyes falling shut. Entranced, Chase continued, hoping that maybe he was easing some small pleasure of the other man’s pain. After a moment, his trembling eased a little. He looked so...relaxed. Chase’s right hand reached up, against House’s forehead. His skin was clammy. “House…if I got you some Vicodin…”

“No.” he said it soft, eyes still closed, head shaking weakly. “I want that month off the clinic.”

“This isn’t worth it!”

“Freedom has a high price.”

“This is insane. At least something for the nausea.”

“No pills.”

“House…” Frustrated, Chase rubbed his shoulder a little harder than before. House leaned into the touch, his head falling back a little farther. Chase’s heartbeat quickened.

“Either shut up, or leave.”

Chase licked his lips uncertainly, mouth suddenly dry. House had, in a strange way, invited him to continue. House had enjoyed the massage the day before, but that had been from a ridiculously beautiful woman. At the time, he had been jealous. Dropping down more on House’s level, one hand tentatively dropping to his right thigh.

House tensed, his hand shooting out to grab Chase’s wrist.

“Wait…it helped yesterday, didn’t it? Might could ease some of the pain in the muscle…”

House was either in too much pain or too sick to argue. He released his hand, let Chase begin to work some of the stiffness out of the muscle. After a moment a small moan escaped him, his body relaxing. Chase called on all his self control, willed his hands not to tremble. He could not deny the heat that had shot through his body at that sound. He loved touching him, loved the closeness of it. He gave a soft sigh, and Chase felt a surge of affection for him so intense he would have given anything to wrap him up in his arms. He’s only letting you this close because he’s in pain, idiot. He’s using you. Chase swatted the thought away like an annoying fly. Right now, the reason didn’t matter. Nothing else did.

Soon, House’s steady breathing told Chase he had dropped off to sleep. Peacefully this time. As he stood to leave, Chase couldn’t resist brushing a hand against House’s cheek. Mumbling in his sleep, House turned into the touch, nuzzling against his hand before going still again. Chase froze, breath caught in his chest. It was a full dazed 30 seconds or so before he drew his hand away. He was asleep. He didn’t know what he was doing. That had to be it. Could have been anyone. Right? He wasn’t sure how to answer there, wasn’t sure about anything including his own feelings at the moment. Standing there, watching House sleep…he felt a desire to take care of the man such as he had never felt for anyone, including the girlfriend he had had for four years back in Oz. He wanted to see him sleep like that every time….peaceful…no pain…Snap out of it, Chase.

Shaking his head to clear it, he slid from the room without a sound.

HHHHHHHHH

5 Days Later

Chase was the last one of the underlings to leave the office. He usually was. He passed House on his way out, sprawled in his chair, headphones in. It had been a day since he had the drugs back and he was still basking in the glory of it. They could only hope his good mood would last a week or so. “G’night, House.”

House looked up, slid his hand in his pocket and pulled out his iPod, pausing it. “What?”

Chase shrugged. “Just saying goodnight. I’m heading home.”

“Last one to leave…nothing to go home to, but then neither do they. Just slow, or is there something else you wanted to say?”

Yes. “No.”

“Ok.” Chase’s hand was on the door when he spoke again. “Would you really have brought me Vicodin?”

“What?”

“The other day, would you really have brought me Vicodin if I’d agreed?”

Chase stalled, one finger tapping on the glass. He knew his answer to this would be important. “I…yeah. I would’ve.” He should have elaborated more, but it was all he could say. He looked over at House, almost certain he could see the wheels turning, see House filing him away as a drug connection. He wasn’t surprised to find he didn’t much care.

“Foreman tried.”

That, he hadn’t been expecting. “Foreman? Not Cameron?”

“Shocking, isn’t it? She’s the only one who didn’t. I’ll have to try to figure out what that says later. Right now…I’m trying to figure out you.” House cut his eyes at him, a dark edge in them, a slight grin on his face. “Like where you learned how to give a massage.”

Chase looked away, heart thudding. He loved and hated the way House was looking at him. If House knew…God, he’d never hear the end of the teasing. “See you tomorrow.” He was out the door before House could say anything else.

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Alright, end of the first chapter….tell me what you think! All writers need encouragement, and I thrive on it so…

I’m gonna be working on the next chapter tonight, but everybody let me know what you think, if you’re enjoying it and all that. Hope so.