Work Text
As Wilson had once so kindly put it, House has no emotional intelligence when dealing with his own emotions.
He’s been sleeping with Chase for a while, an affair neither of them held much importance to. It was needed after the long stares and House constantly calling him out on his accent, his appearance and his hair. Sexual tension toppled off into being resolved, and he’s glad about that. But that’s all it is, as much as Wilson tries to jab him into thinking otherwise.
Which is why he doesn’t particularly care when Chase announces he has to go to Australia for a week or so. It’s not like he doesn’t have other people to sleep with, and it’s not like he’s part of his team now, he fired him a few months back. It’s not a big deal in the least.
That’s what he wants to think, at least.
“When’s the Brit coming back?” he asks Cuddy, although he knows the answer. It’s one week.
Cuddy looks up from her computer, a bit put off. “You miss Chase?”
He stares at her, and she stares back. “No one gives better oral than him,” he says rather than answering.
She scoffs, a faint blush setting on her cheeks. “I did not need to know that.” She looks back down for a few seconds before looking back up. “Since when are you two sleeping together?”
“About two months before I fired him?”
Cuddy hums a little and asks, “Did he think it was hot that you fired him?”
He laughs. “What do you think?”
She chuckles a little too. “He totally did.” She looks at him again. “Are you missing him because of his mouth? Really?”
“Yep,” he says, popping the ‘p’.
There’s a smug disbelief in Cuddy’s eyes, but he ignores it. He knows what he wants Chase for, and he knows what Chase wants him for.
“So,” Wilson starts, “Third day without Chase’s pretty mouth on you. Any withdrawal symptoms yet?”
House sits down, propping his feet up Wilson’s desk (gaining him a dirty look), and flips him off. “No withdrawal yet, thanks for asking.”
Wilson rests his chin on his palm, looking at him with a slight smile. There’s the spark of interest in his eyes, the same interest House feels at patients, at interesting puzzles. What puzzle is there to solve, really? “Do you miss him?”
He scowls. “Only his mouth.”
“Uh-huh,” he says with the same smug disbelief of Cuddy’s.
“I don’t like Chase,” he snarls. “He’s annoying. All he’s got going for him is his hair and his mouth.”
“And his eyes,” Wilson says.
“And his eyes,” he can’t help but nod. He’s got pretty eyes, all sea green.
The smugness and the disbelief both grow on Wilson’s face, and his smile widens. “And his body.”
He thinks about having his hands on Chase’s sides, and Chase’s torso up against his own, naked and deliberate with every movement of his. He swallows. There’s a pang in his chest. “You got something to tell me, Wilson?”
Wilson shoots back dryly, “
You
got something to tell me, House?”
House leaves Wilson’s office instead of replying.
He goes for analyzing Chase rather than analyzing himself, because it’s easier. Because it doesn’t feel like swallowing sand.
Chase has always been like a lost puppy to him; desperate for approval since the start. Of course, he could blame that on his daddy issues, and the fact he was his employee, but it didn’t stop at all once they started sleeping together. Or once House fired him. He still seeks for his approval, always, although in subtle ways— the tremble of his lip after he asks something not too smart, the fiddling with his hands whenever he has something he wants to try in bed, the cautious kiss to House’s neck and collar.
He doesn’t know how he didn’t realize it sooner, but he still drops his tennis ball and makes a face. Fuck, Chase is in love with him. Or at least has a crush on him. But it’s lasted five years by now, as he’s always been like this— you can’t have just a crush on someone for five years. Along the way, it becomes more than a crush.
He rushes into Cuddy’s office.
“What’s your ridiculous diagnostic procedure this time?” Cuddy asks without looking away from her computer.
“When were you going to tell me Chase is in love with me?!” he exclaims.
Cuddy looks up and her brows raise. “You didn’t know?”
House doesn’t have much of an excuse. He fumbles with his words. “I…”
“Oh, House,” she says, “you have absolutely no emotional intelligence at all.”
“Thanks,” he says.
“You can read people like an open book except for when they express positive feelings towards you, apparently.” She laughs a little and stands up, cupping his cheek. “Have you figured out the part where it’s not one-sided?”
House pulls away and his eyes widen, looking at her with shock all over his face. “I’m not—”
“Oh, you totally are.” She grins at him wider. “Absence makes the heart grow fonder. Or at least, makes the heart realize things.”
“I don’t like Chase—”
“You sound like a twelve-year-old girl,” she points out.
House groans (because she's right) and limps out of her office, trying to not think too much about what she had accused him of. He's not in love with Chase. He doesn't like Chase. He just liked his body and his eyes and his mouth, and how good he was at being taken apart and put together again, and his stupid laugh during aftercare and—
“Oh,” he whispers. “
Ohhhhhh
.”
The next five days of Chase’s visit to his home country seem to last an eternity. All House can think of is how he’s just realized what he wants, and what he feels, and it’s so stupid and he’s gonna have Chase all jet-lagged and ridiculous and God, he shouldn’t be here thinking about it so much.
“House,” Kutner starts, his voice so sure of himself like always, like he’s known him forever, “what’s got your mind so busy lately? You look like you’re spacing out twenty-four seven.”
Taub elbows Kutner and Thirteen just rolls her eyes.
House shrugs. “Any guesses?”
“A new girlfriend?” Taub suggests. Kutner gives him an odd look. “Listen, he either ‘doesn’t do’ relationships or cycles through them every two months.”
Thirteen perks up a little. “A new boyfriend?”
Taub starts, “Just because you’re—” He falls silent when House looks away.
“A new boyfriend?!” Kutner exclaims.
House rolls his eyes. “Go look for something more important than my love life.”
“It’s a new boyfriend!” Thirteen exclaims.
“We’re not dating,” he interrupts.
“Then you will be dating soon,” she says.
He can’t even argue with that, so he simply rolls his eyes and goes back to his tennis ball.
“Is it someone we know?” Taub asks.
House doesn’t say anything, keeps his eyes fixated on the ball.
“That’s a yes,” Thirteen says, standing up. “Let’s scour the hospital.”
Taub and Kutner stand up; House only finds a little refuge on the fact that they won’t find the object of his affections among the men working at the hospital who are here today.
House makes his way through the airport, finding himself waiting for Chase to come through the doors. He wants to kiss him, do something cheesy and dramatic and utterly stupid, but he knows Chase will be too jet-lagged to even process it. So he tells himself to wait until Chase’s brain is adapted to New Jersey, but it’s the opposite of what he wants to do, what he aches to do.
There’s Chase, after a while. He looks well-rested, blond locks well-groomed, his eyes a bit tired and a slight tan on his skin. He’s trudging along with his suitcase and his backpack, and his brows raise when House snatches the backpack off him and puts it over his own shoulder.
“House?” he asks, yawning a little. “What are you doing here?”
“Taking you home,” he says, nudging him so he speeds up and makes him follow him and not the other way around.
Chase blinks more and speeds up his step. “Why?”
House is left without a good excuse that doesn’t reveal what he wants to save for later, so he settles for, “I wanted to.”
He hums and nods. “Okay.” He leans into the seat as soon as he’s in the car. “My brain feels like jelly.”
“I know.” A thought briefly crosses his mind, something about calling Chase something affectionate— sweetheart, darling, plum, and he immediately tries to kill it with fire.
He starts driving, and Chase manages to open the door to his own place, leaning into House for most of the walk into it. He lets him, doesn’t want to bother his jet-lagged brain, and lets him collapse into the bed, falling asleep without even taking his clothes off.
House only takes off his shoes and jeans before he’s curling up next to Chase, listening to the way he breathes, the way his heartbeat steadies against his own. He put too much perfume on today, he can tell— Chase has mentioned his anxiety about hygiene while in crowded places.
He falls asleep with his arms wrapped around Chase’s waist, and he’s woken up to Chase gently nudging them off him.
“House, why are you cuddling me?”
Light filters through the curtains— Chase’s hair is a mess, but he looks more awake than while at the airport.
“I realized you love me while you were gone,” he says, and Chase freezes. He smiles and leans in to kiss him. “I love you too, you complete idiot.”
“Oh,” Chase mumbles into his lips, and he relaxes and rests his head on the pillow.
House wraps his arms around his waist again. “I only realized while you were gone. I might be a bit of an idiot in regards to emotions.”
Chase laughs a little, and it makes House’s heart jump up and down.
“I know that much, House. I’ve known you for five years.”
House rests his head on top of Chase’s an hums contently.
“Are we dating?” Chase asks.
House hasn’t had a significant other for ten years, but still, he bites the bullet, “I’d like to think so.”
Chase turns around to kiss him again. “I’d like to think so too.”
He can guess that Wilson has made some bet with Cuddy, and that Wilson’s either just won a lot of cash or lost a lot of cash. He’ll see when he gets bored of cuddling Chase, which doesn’t seem to be happening any time soon.