Chase, implied Chase/CameronSpoilers
: Up to 316.Notes:
Follows "Here Comes Emptiness Crashing In"
Chase was unsure when it started to become something more than casual, when it ceased to be an arrangement between colleagues and began to feel like something else. Something more. But how little it mattered now. Now that he had let his carefully suppressed emotions get in the way.
That was not to say that it was no longer about the sex. The sex was great. As had been evident in their hasty romp during Cameron’s stint with narcotics, their sexual appetites were completely in synch. Once or twice a week had quickly turned into once or twice a day. The tiniest hint of flesh, a flash of an ankle, and Chase would be shifting anxiously in his skin. A gleam in her eye meant that it was time to find a linen closet or make for an early lunch. Skin touching skin. Tongue to mouth. Tousled hair, knees and elbows pointing toward the ceiling. But there was also that other look, the one that told him it was going to be a long day and an even longer night, and he would wonder why lately the decision usually rested on her shoulders. Granted, she had approached him first and out of nowhere. He did not and would not pretend that it had not come as a surprise and a bit of an insult when she had so bluntly requested his services. But the shock had immediately disappeared, and he had been only too happy to oblige. But it seemed like it was always her idea, always her giving him the eye while the other stayed fixed on House.
He knew he was being used, but only a fool would complain. It was becoming for him the word he dared not say, the word that would bring all of it to an end. And so he would bite his tongue and taste the blood, swallow it down with his self-respect, put up the walls that surfaced in times of poignant honesty, and get back to work.