For: 30 Days and Nights of House/Chase
Rating: Intended to be PG, but House insisted on an R. What can you do?
Summary: From bookgodess15's prompt #19: "You couldn't sleep, and this was the solution that you came up with?"
Disclaimer: Pish tosh. I doubt anyone is confused about this.
"House, please give it up. I'm exhausted and I'm not in the mood." Chase batted away the hand that was trying to remove his shirt.
House stuck out his bottom lip in a major pout. "But I'm horny."
"And I'm not, right now. Surely you can hold out 'til morning, just this once."
"But I'm not going to be able to sleep like this."
Chase just shook his head in bleary amusement. "You know what, House? You've got two good hands and a vivid imagination. Go deal with it."
"It's not the same, you know."
"Well, I bloody well hope not," Chase scowled, and with that he threw himself onto the bed with most of his clothes still on. He was asleep within a minute.
House sat on the edge of the bed and glared at Chase in frustration. He knew he was being a bit unreasonable. The poor guy was coming off a long shift that included two emergency surgeries. The last had come in twenty minutes before Chase was supposed to come home, meaning that he was three hours late. House really ought to cut Chase some slack after 21 hours on the job. Chase was also correct in pointing out that he had never turned House down before in their three months together. Oh well, if I need a physical release, I'll have to take care of it himself.
With a smirk he grabbed Chase's discarded shirt. I'll put it back where I found it later; it needs washing anyway. He headed out to the living room and made himself comfortable lying on the sofa. Closing his eyes, he brought the shirt to his face and inhaled deeply. He was well-acquainted with the smell of Chase's sweat and it was enough to make his body react immediately. This isn't going to take long.
He remembered Chase's luscious mouth on his neck, his chest, moving down to his groin. Chase had been new at this and a little clumsy when they first got together, but he was a fast and enthusiastic learner. Thinking of the delightfully obscene things Chase could do with his tongue made House moan softly, his hips starting to rise in rhythm with his lover's imagined movements. With a groaned "Robert," he reached a climax that was surprisingly intense for a solo outing.
After he rode out the aftershocks, he drowsed for a little while, but then found himself awake again. He sat up, smiling at the revelation that the reality of Chase in his bed was so much better than the fantasies he'd had during the seduction process. He limped back to the bedroom, where he threw the shirt he'd cleaned up with back on the floor. Chase's deep and regular breathing indicated that he was still sleeping soundly.
House lowered himself onto the bed and closed his eyes, willing himself to sleep. Nothing. He was still wide awake and he just didn't feel like moving to the study and catching up on his medical journals. What to do, what to do. He rolled onto his side and studied Chase for a moment. Even in the faint light his hair was gleaming gold, and of course, it was falling in his eyes. House reached over and gently brushed the bangs back, allowing himself a small gesture of affection while Chase was asleep. For some reason, Chase's hair always made him smile. It was just so…Chase.
An idea began to form and he sat up, studying Chase thoughtfully. At the beginning of their relationship, they had decided to keep things as quiet as possible. House had pointed out that as a relatively junior staff surgeon, Chase had the most to lose professionally if they went public that he was sleeping with his former boss. They weren't going to lie about it, but they weren't going to announce it either. That meant Chase kept his apartment, they still used last names, they arrived and left separately, and of course, no love marks to attract questions.
Chase wasn't much of a biter, but House had to constantly remind himself not to use his teeth. Surgeons frequently changed their scrubs in semi-public areas, so even the shoulders and back were out. Chase just laughed when House expressed his frustration with this limitation, pointing out that he wasn't going to let House piss on him to mark his territory either.
Ah, but territory must be marked, and this one's mine, House thought, heading for the kitchen to gather his materials.
"We have towels, you know," Chase called out from the bedroom.
"That shirt's ugly anyway," House called back from the kitchen.
"You think all my shirts are ugly. That's not a reason to be gross about… Oh, for God's sake, House. What did you do to my hair?"
"I thought you'd look good with more highlights." House smiled into his coffee mug and waited. Chase rounded the corner and loomed over the chair, clutching a bright blue lock of bangs.
"Why did you feel this was necessary?"
House shrugged. "I couldn't sleep."
"You couldn't sleep, and this was the solution that you came up with?"
House leaned back and surveyed his work. "Hey, that came out nice. It really does match your eyes. And yes, I slept the sleep of the righteous once I finished my handiwork. I couldn't rest until I showed the world that you're all mine."
"Great. Excuse me if I go wash the stripes out now," Chase growled.
"Umm, about that…"
"House, what now?" Chase glared at his partner.
"Well," House beamed, "we didn't have any blue hair dye, so I used food coloring."
Chase's eyes widened in horror. "No. You didn't."
"Yes, I did."
"And you knew it wouldn't wash out, am I right?"
"Yep. You'll just have to wait it out."
Chase let out a growl of frustration. "I can't walk around the hospital like this. What am I supposed to tell people?"
"You'll come up with something. I doubt that sleeping with me is the first explanation anyone will think of."
Chase sat and slumped forward with his head resting on his folded arms, saying nothing. After a couple of minutes, House began to regret his self-indulgence a bit. It was supposed to be a joke, after all. "C'mon, Chase. It's just hair."
"I know," Chase said sadly, rising from his chair. "But I just can't walk around the hospital with blue streaks all over my head. I've got to fix this and if it won't wash out, I only know one other way. As you said, it's just hair." He headed back to their bedroom.
Now House was worried. He went after Chase, who disappeared into the bathroom and closed the door. There was a long minute of silence, then House heard a loud sigh, then another, followed by the sound of the electric hair clippers.
"At least you didn't dye my scalp blue," Chase called through the door.
Oh shit! House jumped up and rushed to the bathroom door, flinging it open. "Don't…"
Chase was sitting on the edge of the tub, dangling the hair clippers by the cord and smiling. "Think I should shave my head? Maybe a Mohawk?"
House slumped against the door in relief. "Very funny, ha ha. I knew you wouldn't shave your head."
Chase tilted his head and smirked at him. "Oh no? And you burst through the door because…?"
"Just playing along. I knew you were too vain about your hair to cut it off."
"Really?" Chase stood and grabbed the clippers properly. "Is that an accusation or a challenge?"
House grinned. "The first. Why do you think I picked on your hair?"
"I think you misjudge me, sir. It's you that's fascinated by my hair." Chase gave House a thoughtful look. "Maybe I should find out whether you'd love me without my hair." He made motions to begin cutting his hair.
House grabbed the hand with the clippers and removed the offending weapon. "You are not going to shave your head, so forget it. Besides, who said I lov…"
Chase held his hand up. "Stop right there, House. We agreed that I would never try to make you say it, and in exchange, you aren't allowed to deny it unless the relationship is over. Is it over?"
House rolled his eyes. "No, definitely not. Never mind."
"OK, then. Now I need to find a hairdresser who knows how to cover up the results of low impulse control," Chase grimaced.
"Well, at least it helped me relax," House muttered.
Chase gave him a smile that was anything but reassuring. "Good to know for the future when I'm the one who can't sleep, considering that I have black permanent markers and you have a bald spot."
"I so would, House. You started it. And now I'm going to see if I can get any of this out in the shower."
House perked up. "Hey, it's morning. You promised me something in the morning."
"Did I? I don't think you deserve anything after last night. I think you totally destroyed the mood," Chase said with a mock scowl. "All I want is a shower right now."
"Aww, don't be a spoilsport. I could use a shower about now myself."
"I called it first," Chase sing-songed.
House waggled his eyebrows. "We could share."
Chase folded his arms, trying not to smile. "Why should I?"
"Because I know how to make you scream?"
"You already did that when I saw my hair this morning."
"I can make you scream in a good way."
Chase tapped his finger on his chin. "I suppose you might be able to, at that. Alright, you can shower with me, on the condition that you wash my hair. Twice."
House tried to look disgusted even though he was smiling. ""Real men don't wash each other's hair, you know.
"Of course not. I certainly wasn't intending to wash your hair. I will, however, make it very much worth your while to wash mine."
"Hand me the shampoo," House replied.
That's all, folks! You can consider this a little sequel to "Not Entirely Human Error".