Categories > TV > House0 Reviews
House/Chase. SLASH. House apologizes.
Fandom: House M.D.
Pairing: House/Chase (established relationship)
Warnings: so sweet it might give you cavities. Beware the Fluff!
Disclaimer: House M.D. belongs to David Shore and FOX Television.
Summary: House apologies. Not in actual words, of course. ;)
Notes: written for the "10 Snuggles" challenge on LiveJournal. The prompt was "chocolate."
House stared at the snow-encrusted blond standing in his doorway. It made him shiver just looking at the state Chase was in – with snow and globs of ice coating his hair, frosted across his chin and dangling from his eyelashes. His jacket and pants had turned white beneath a layer snow.
In the background, the meteorologist on the News was droning on about the truly freakish snow storm that had hit Princeton.
“They’re telling everyone to stay inside,” he said.
Chase was beginning to drip on his floor.
“You…b — bastard,” he managed to grate through chattering teeth.
“Hey, I don’t control the weather. And no one asked you to — ”
“Your phone call said ‘emergency!’” growled Chase, for once in his life looking positively furious. "'/Emergency/,' House!"
“And it was an emergency! I was horny. I thought some phone-sex would do us both good.”
Chase glared at him. Chase really glared at him. House had an unpleasant feeling he had learned that glare from him.
“Well I didn’t think you’d be dumb enough to actually come running over here! How was I to know you wouldn't just use the phone to call me back like a normal person?”
“Your message said…/emergency/,” Chase was actually shuddering with chills. His hands were clenched tightly at his sides.
House limped forwards cautiously, but stopped short of touching since the younger doctor looked ready to strangle him.
“I couldn’t…drive…in this weather so I…had to walk…in the wind...and the sleet...”
“Really? I'd assumed you’d been rolling around in the snow and ice for fun.”
Some part of House’s brain told him he should process that enraged growl as a threat instead of a massive turn on, but…well some things, he decided, just couldn’t be helped. Another step brought him close enough to take hold of Chase’s jacket. It was felt like ice beneath his fingers. He winced.
Chase jerked away from him. “I can take off my own jacket, House.”
“Better take off everything,” he meant for it to sound a little lewd and suggestive, but seeing Chase so miserable and trembling put a rather unpleasant damper on the whole mood. With a sign he turned to the closet, fishing out towels and a fluffy robe that had never been worn (a birthday present from his mother).
A few minutes later a pale and sickly Chase was lying bundled on the couch, barely awake.
/Fuck. This isn’t how it was supposed to go at all. Why did he actually come? /He trailed a hand through the soaking blond hair and shook his head. “Poor Doctor Idiot.”
Perhaps unsurprisingly, Chase batted his hand away.
He was both surprised and relieved to find hot chocolate in the kitchen. It was one of those things he didn’t actually remember buying, but he always seemed to have it. Maybe because he never drank the stuff himself.
But then why did I buy it? Hmm…Do I own a kettle?
He had to bend down to sort through a cupboard of seldom-used kitchen appliances. His bum leg screamed silently in protest, letting him know each millisecond of it’s discomfort.
Chase probably has hot chocolate all the time. He’s that sort of person. With marshmallows. House smirked. Or whipped cream.
The mental images produced by combining Chase and whipped cream in the same thought delayed House for a few more seconds.
Hmph. I wonder if he would go for that? So it looks like the most important question of all is: Do I have any whipped cream?
He poured some on the hot chocolate and carried it carefully into the next room. “Chase?”
“Leave me alone.”
“Oh God, your pouting.”
“I am not.”
“Moping. And being British.”
“Fine. Here. It’s what they feed sulky four year olds.” He thrust the steaming mug into Chase’s hands and watched the blue eyes widen in surprise and then narrow quizzically as Chase’s gaze flickered to him with deep suspicion.
“What? Me have an ulterior motive for doing a nice thing? Really, Chase! I’m insulted!”
The blond pursed his lips thoughtfully. “Yes. It doesn’t take much to figure out what it could be, either.”
Smirking, House brushed off some of the cream with his finger, holding it against Chase’s lips. He gave him a look, it wasn’t quite a glare. Maybe an attempted glare. House knew he had won. Leaning over Chase, he wrapped an arm around the shivering shoulders. He felt the warm wet tongue steal out and lick his offered finger, sucking gently. He moaned into Chase’s hair, thinking what other things he could do with that pretty mouth.
Chase stopped after a moment and pulled away. House drew back as well, watching the younger doctor to gauge his reaction.
Chase was cradling the hot chocolate, gazing at House with a familiar devilish grin. The grin that meant they were going to have very interesting sex, and lots of it. Thank God.
So I guess this means he’s forgiven me, House thought, leaning over the couch again. His leg screamed in protest, demanding that they move their acts of assorted illicitness into the bedroom where at least he could shift some of the weight of it. Chase’s grin said he wouldn’t mind that at all.
Chocolate, thought House, leaning down to kiss the eagerly parting lips, makes everything better.