Fic: Spygames

[awritinglilypea]

Title: House MD: Spy Games
Fandom: House MD
Characters: House/Chase
Prompt: #45 Undercover
Word Count: 810 words
Rating: PG-13
Summary: House has been playing spy games and Chase is getting annoyed.
Disclaimer: I don’t own House, or Chase. They belong to Fox and other such depressing things.
Notes: Inspired by Lucas and written for fanfic50  . My table can be found here

 

Sometimes Chase couldn’t believe the way House acted, despite how long he had known him and the length of time they had been close. But this…spying on Wilson with a man who Chase couldn’t stand…Well it was going a little too far, but House loved his little spy games so Chase let him have them as long as it kept him from dropping a red sock in the white laundry every time the Australian attempted to do it.

Feet propped up on the coffee table with his glasses balanced on the bridge of his nose Chase read his book, licking the tips of his fingers and flipping through slowly as he waited for House to get home.

The door swung open rather violently moments later, hitting the wall and knocking god knows what off the shelf House came in with his backpack hanging off one shoulder.

“There’s my little English love muffin,” the older man declared sarcastically, tossing his bag into the corner and slamming the door shut. “How are you doing this evening?” He kept his voice loud, seeming to want to grate on Chase’s nerves.

“Australian,” the word left Chase’s mouth before he could stop it and he sighed softly putting his book down. “What’s happened?” He asked, keeping the concern out of his voice when House managed to ram his bad leg rather harshly into the table.

House slumped down on the couch next to him, dropping his cane on the floor.

 “Nothing happened, why would you think something had happened?” He asked, crossing his arms over his chest and nearly pouting.

“Spy games over now? Did James find out you were stalking him? He couldn’t have been too mad because I didn’t have to bail you out of jail,” Chase murmured, picking up his book once again and going back to it. There was truly no reasoning with the other man when he was like this and he knew it, so the best thing to do was ignore House for a short while and hope he got over it.

“I don’t know why I bother, it’s all the fucking same in the end anyway,” House grumbled, heaving himself off the couch with a strange look in his eyes, hobbling toward the bedroom sans cane. He suddenly had the desire to be away, away from thoughts of Wilson and away from Chase who kept giving him that look, a look with pity and frustration all mixed into one. It was something he hadn’t seen since he’d lost partial mobility due to the infarction, and it was something he never wanted to see again.

Chase felt like ripping his hair out, “House…don’t do this!” He stood up and followed his lover into the bathroom, sighing softly when he saw the look on House’s face as the older man lay there. It took everything he had to not find Wilson and rip his heart out for what he had done, for how much he had hurt House.

Logically he knew that Wilson was hurting too, but it wasn’t really House’s fault. Amber made the choice to go down to the bar and pick up House; she made the choice to get on the bus.

House patted the spot next to him, grunting when Chase crawled onto the bed, bouncing it. “I’m not doing anything,” he told him, his voice seeming hoarser than usual.

“Yes you are, you’re beating yourself up over something that Wilson has already beat you up over…not literally,” Chase continued before House could try to interrupt him, “And what you’re not realizing is that you don’t need to beat yourself up for it, it was a mistake. It was you being human, something you’re allowed to be. You’re not God Greg, as much as you’d like to think you are.”

House nodded slowly, “I know I’m not some myth choir boy, as much as you like to tell me I am sometimes, in this very bed.”

Chase rolled his eyes and pressed a firm kiss to House’s lips, “I’ll put the trash can next to the bed,” he told him, tasting the alcohol in House’s mouth. “I guess I’ll also put two Vicodin on the night stand as well, with water.”

“Hair of the dog?” House arched an eyebrow.

“No,” Chase replied firmly, reaching into House’s pocket he pulled out the pill bottle and shook out two of the pills, putting them on the nightstand before he went about doing everything else he’d promised. “Go to sleep,” he told him firmly, leaning down for another quick kiss.

House’s eyes slid closed almost on command, his body already beginning to feel heavy as he allowed this to happen.

“And stop making me worry House, you can’t push me away. I’m not prone to leaving,” Chase said, mostly under his breath as he moved out of the bedroom.