Pairing: House/Chase, implied House/Cameron, House/Cuddy, House/Wilson
Word Count: 1098
Summary: The second greatest torture after working for House, as it turns out, is dating him.
Author's Notes: Written for Writer's Choice for fanfic100.
The second greatest torture after working for House as it turns out, is dating him.
The third greatest torture after working for and dating House is the cold and swift realization that you’re in love with him. Chase wonders if it was like this for Cameron; waking up in the middle of the night in a sweat after yet another dream about him, after a day of being plagued by thoughts of him, and another day of cataloguing every look he has, every action, everything he does.
Maybe it’s infatuation. Oh, God, Chase hopes it’s infatuation. They pass and go away, but being in love lingers and ruins things. If he’s not in love with House, then he’s normal. So it becomes about waiting it out, seeing if he can chase the infatuation away with time. Good ‘ol time, healing wounds and changing the landscape of life.
When five weeks pass and Chase can’t shake the admiration and that same feeling, he realizes he might have to admit he may be a little in love.
He’s such a bastard. If there were rules for love, number one should have been ‘don’t fall in love with misanthropic bastards with a penchant for needing a puzzle’. But there aren’t general rules about love and if there were, they would have to be altered anyhow, because House is like no other. They have to be developed along the way.
But there’s something to explain first, which is the ‘dating’ part, which House calls it to tease Chase and Chase calls it, but only to himself. Wilson, out of the country at a conference, wasn’t around to act the part of House’s deaf ear, so House had shown up at Chase’s door, insisting they go for a drink. With that, Wilson was out, Chase was in – at least for that week.
When Wilson had returned, Chase figured it was over; he would go back to being the fellow, one third of the foil to House’s madness.
But House kept showing up at his door, kept pulling him aside at the end of the day and making up some excuse that required Chase to stay. Drinks sometimes turned into dinners and occasionally turned into monster truck rallies or arcades, once there was a gig at some small bar that House dragged Chase to, grinning when Chase realized the band was local to Melbourne, branching out into the States.
That had been when Chase may have, quite possibly fallen.
And so here he is, a fallen man for a broken one and there’s no way to go but heartbreak, Chase is well aware of this. Cameron’s still pining and Chase can’t blame her – House has taken her on the same whirlwind ride he’s on, to monster truck rallies and dinners and lunches, to the odd drink here and there. He’s just the new toy of the week. Chase briefly amuses himself with the thought that it’ll be Foreman next.
There are perks, of course. House lets his oral fixation run wild. There are nights when House simply sits in his chair and lets Chase crawl atop – so long as he avoids the leg – and lets him go at his neck with his lips, sucking and biting; never quite leaving a mark, but always leaving House a limbless and pleased pile. There’s nothing quite like being able to use House’s skin like a canvas to nibble and kiss and tread and House is probably quite aware of how much of a delight it is for Chase.
Small trinkets to sate the pain of the inevitable. He vows, one night early in, to not be like Cameron, to not let himself fade and become a shadow of his previous self, yearning only for House’s validation and odd looks that are supposed to prove something. Being in love is one thing, showing it is another.
He wonders if he should talk to Wilson. Wilson knows, knows what it’s like to love House and get nothing but suffering in return. If Chase were honest, he’d be far more terrified of becoming Wilson than he is of becoming Cameron. Cameron’s obsession, her infatuation, her love for House will dwindle and fade as it’s already started. When they go for drinks, she flirts with men that buy her drinks and occasionally, she and Chase have danced around the notion of a one-night stand. Cameron is going to be fine.
Becoming Wilson is far more terrifying, the notion of perpetually being in love with House and taking every last barb and brutal heartbreak offered for years and years makes Chase go cold, makes him so terrified that he doesn’t know what to do.
And there’s Cuddy. Cuddy, who loves House like a brother, and why, damn it, why couldn’t Chase have gone that route. What’s the saying, there’s a thin line between love and hate? Yeah. They probably fucked in university, but now they argue and they fight and they hate each other, but not really. Cuddy would lay her life on the line for House and that’s a kind of unspoken love that Chase has never known.
But he’s not Cuddy and he’s not Cameron and he prays he’ll never be Wilson.
“Chase, back to the world of the living,” House’s voice draws him out of his reverie and he snaps back to attention, glancing back at the list of diseases that feature bowel obstruction as a symptom. He feels a pair of eyes staring at him and since there’s no one but him and House in the room, he has a pretty good notion of who’s doing the looking. He makes a point of reading for a few minutes before glancing up.
He tries to deny that his stomach flips slightly when he sees the intensity of House’s stare. “What?” he asks.
Chase locks his jaw, setting it stiffly and turning back to his book. “You’re delusional.”
The way he loves House is going to be different from the others. He’s the toy, House’s lapdog. He’s a masochist to House’s sadist and he’ll keep going back for more because that’s just who he is. He’ll chew pencils and frustrate House and he’ll say a few things, take House’s side. He’ll be loyal as any pet and he’ll be there. He’ll hate being in love with House, but he’ll still love him. Chase muses, as he steadfastly ignores House, that he’s got the worst of it. Cameron, Cuddy, and Wilson’s diseases combined.
The disease of being in love with House.
And there is no known cure.