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  This Is How They Deal 
 by Dorian Grey  

 This is how Chase deals with his sexuality - he doesn't. He thinks that
by repressing every sexual urge his body feels, he'll be able to change
himself. (He won't.) He tells himself that sleeping with Cameron was a
mistake (It wasn't), he won't do it again (He will), and that he liked it.
(He didn't.)

This is how House deals with his sexuality - he jokes. He flirts with
everyone he wants to in a strange hope that if he does, nobody will care
enough to ever bother to find out what he'd really want. He's not even
sure if he knows what he wants. (He does, but it's one of those things
that he'd rather repress.) He says that he doesn't regret sleeping with
Stacy again (Perhaps he really doesn't), and that of course he'd probably
do it again. (He wouldn't.)

When he finds himself thinking of House in ways that he promised himself
he'd never think of someone again, he goes home and leaves small reminders
for himself. They're just small marks above his ankle. (He's not a cutter,
he really doesn't have a problem.) Afterward, he leans back on the
bathroom floor and laughs, wondering why he's suddenly fifteen again.
Wondering why all these things happen to him, and why is it so difficult
for him to focus on the good things he has going?

When he finds himself watching Chase for just a bit too long, he gets
angry with himself. He sends Chase to run meaningless tests, take care of
the patient, do his clinic duty - anything to get Chase away from him. He
goes home and plays the piano (Which he does every night regardless), but
it's only half-heartedly, the notes slightly discordant, the song a bit
off-tempo. He tells himself that it's nothing, he's just tired, he's just
desperate. Some nights he'll go out and hire a hooker (always female.
Always.), and allow himself to forget whatever he chooses to forget.

Their patients haunt him, and he doesn't bother to deny it. He doesn't
sleep much these nights, but then again, when did he ever? When was it
that he managed to get a good night's rest last? He supposes it was before
his dad left, before his mum started drinking so heavily - because after
that he had to be ready for anything. (Couldn't get a job, he already had
a 24.7 one.) He wonders what it says about him that he was secretly
pleased when his mother passed away. Then again, he wonders what
everything (everyone) says about him.

Once a patient is gone, they're out of his mind. (Unless they die, then
they're there forever.) He doesn't sleep much these nights, but ever since
the infarction, the pain won't even let him consider it. He doesn't really
long for his leg back as much as he used to, he just likes to let people
know that he does. (There are too many other things driving him to stop
and think about the 'what if's.) He doesn't want the responsibilities
again, being forced to actually face patients, face his co-workers, and
above all, face the fact that the Vicodin isn't really all for his leg
anyway. (It's just a legal excuse.)

The last time he touched a drink was five years ago. He'd been at a party,
and he was surrounded by people who wouldn't take 'no' for an answer.

The last time he touched a drink was yesterday. He'd been in his
apartment, and he was alone, and he wouldn't take 'no' for an answer.

He never makes up his mind. Everybody knows it, and he knows they find him
distasteful. (He's just a lazy sycophant, why does Dr. House keep him
around?) He thinks that if he keeps changing his opinions, nobody can form
a solid opinion of him. (Keeps them guessing, that way when he leaves the
country, nobody will mind.) He lets them throw about their insults and
teases (He's aware that they think he doesn't fit in - he's a rich kid,
and he looks it - why would he ever want to become a doctor?), because he
doesn't even pay attention to them anyway. He's not self-absorbed, he's
too busy trying to figure out what's really going on around him.

He always states his opinions forcefully, making sure that if others want
to second guess, they better have a damn good reason why. He's
misanthropic, and the rumours about him spread farther each day. (Some
people even think that he starts most of them.) He knows he's
self-absorbed, but if he doesn't care about himself, who will?

There isn't anywhere he'd rather be (Actually, he can think of a few
better places) than in the Diagnostics office, because when there isn't a
patient, the pace is very relaxed. Foreman and Cameron are around to
remind him that this is, in fact, a hospital, and really, shouldn't he be
working? (Maybe House's clinic hours need done?) It's nothing compared to
the ICU, and he would pay (with other things than money sometimes) to get
out of his shifts there, because no matter what, after his shift ends, he
always feels like he's lost. He wonders how long it will take before he
holds the same worldview as House.

He watches Chase every chance he gets (but he still hates himself for it),
watches as the Australian seems more lost, more out of it with each day.
It makes him wonder if he could help Chase, or if he'd just hurt him.
(He's not sure which option is better.)

He watches House whenever he thinks he can get away with it, watches him
become more of a puzzle, a puzzle that does nothing but leaves more
questions in Chase's mind. (More 'what if's, more 'how would he
react...'s.)

Everybody's got a breaking point, and House is trying his best to push
Chase to it. He wants to see what will happen, wants to sit back and enjoy
the chaos he's created. He doesn't see the fun in pushing Cameron or
Foreman too far, they're far too eager to repress, to throw themselves
into their work. Chase has nowhere to go, no outlets for his anger that
House is aware of. He just wants to see the changes, the way Chase looks
when he's angry. He thinks it will look a lot better than that misplaced
hangdog look Chase likes to wear.

Everybody's got a breaking point, and Chase is about to reach his. He
wants to get it over with, he's (fucking) sick of this game they're
playing. He takes one step forward, House goes several feet backwards. It
never ends, and Chase is ready to just throw a brick wall into the
equation. Ready to snap. Ready to just push House against a wall and kiss
him. He doesn't give a damn about the consequences anymore, he doesn't
have much to lose.

He's surprised when Chase follows him into the clinic room, proceeds to
lock the door, and turn around and kiss him. It feels like Chase has been
holding back for a long time. He isn't surprised, not really, when he
kisses Chase and it doesn't feel as uncomfortable as he thought it would.

He's not surprised when he follows through on his plans, trapping House in
a clinic room and proceeding to kiss him. He is surprised when House
kisses him back.

They don't know what this makes them, and they don't want to find out.
They won't give it a name, won't mention it to anybody else. What goes on
behind closed doors will stay behind closed doors. Not even Wilson will
know about this.

He doesn't want it to last. (He knows it won't.)

He knows it won't last. (He doesn't want it to.)

  
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Legal Disclaimer: The authors published here make no claims on the
ownership of Dr. Gregory House and the other fictional residents of
Princeton-Plainsboro Teaching Hospital. Like the television show House
(and quite possibly Dr. Wilson's pocket protector), they are the property
of NBC/Universal, David Shore and undoubtedly other individuals of whom I
am only peripherally aware. The fan fiction authors published here receive
no monetary benefit from their work and intend no copyright infringement
nor slight to the actual owners. We love the characters and we love the
show, otherwise we wouldn't be here.