Don't Tell Me Cause It Hurts part one
He hadn't intended on being home when House arrived. His suitcases were already at the door. He had gone to the bedroom to get the last of his belongings when he heard the door open. Shit, House was back. He took three steps in and stopped, most likely looking at the suitcases.
"Chase?" House called out, and Chase froze. He couldn't face him, especially when he was leaving.
"Chase, can I see you?" Something in his voice was urgent. He had to do this. Slowly, Chase left the bedroom, eyes locked on the floor.
"What's this?" House lifted his cane and pointed it to Chase's belongings.
"You weren't supposed to be home." Chase mumbled.
"So, you were planning on leaving me and not telling me?" His anger rose, he couldn't even look at Chase right now. Meekly, Chase handed him a piece of paper. House snatched it out his hand and read it.
"House, you know I love you. I love you more than anything else. Which is why this is hard for me to do. I need to think somethings over, and I don't want it to come between us. I'm leaving to go back home to Australia to clear my head for a few weeks. It pains me to do this, but it will make us stronger. I hope you can understand and won't be too upset at me. I'll make sure to call when I can. I love you. Love, Robert."
"I think you should leave." House stated simply, and it broke Chase's heart. He wouldn't even look at Chase.
"I'm so sorry." Chase whispered, and felt a tear slowly trail down his face.
"Get out." House's voice was icy, which made a lump form in Chase's stomach.
"Please-"
"No, Chase. Get the fuck out. Obviously you don't want to be here, so run home. Too bad daddy isn't home, he probably could of bought you a better boyfriend. Or should I say, completely idiot plaything."
"Greg, you know it isn't like that." Oh. So we were on first name bases now.
"Leave now before I shove my cane down your throat." Chase nodded, and walked away, walked out of House's life. The door closing was the most lonely noise he heard. Damn, what was this spell Chase put on House to make him feel so damn miserable that he considered crying? House picked up the phone and called his only reliable companion.
"How does getting completely wasted sound to you?"
"Why are you asking me?" Wilson sounded surprised.
"He left. He's out of my life."
"Really?" Wilson tried not to smile, he had heard people can tell when you smile on the phone.
"He didn't plan on telling me. I need to forget about everything. Meet me at the bar in 20." And House hung up, just like that. Wilson always had a thing for House, so when he heard he was going out with Chase, it broke his heart. That's why he went out with Amber: to forget his past and to make House jealous. When she died, Wilson thought it was a sign that he and House belonged together.
"I don't get it." House looked into this third empty glass and frowned. "I thought I could love someone. Guess I was wrong."
"Forget him." Wilson waved him off. He understood House was upset, but when will he shut the fuck up?
"I loved him." House slammed the glass down and waved down the bartender. "I honestly never loved anyone." Do it, James. Wilson thought to himself. He's weak, he's depressed.
"House, come home with me. I think I can help." House turned to look at him. Wilson blushed a light pink and House wasn't sure if it was because he was drunk or embarrassed. Either way, he was alone now.
"Sure. But you're paying."
"Chase?" House called out, and Chase froze. He couldn't face him, especially when he was leaving.
"Chase, can I see you?" Something in his voice was urgent. He had to do this. Slowly, Chase left the bedroom, eyes locked on the floor.
"What's this?" House lifted his cane and pointed it to Chase's belongings.
"You weren't supposed to be home." Chase mumbled.
"So, you were planning on leaving me and not telling me?" His anger rose, he couldn't even look at Chase right now. Meekly, Chase handed him a piece of paper. House snatched it out his hand and read it.
"House, you know I love you. I love you more than anything else. Which is why this is hard for me to do. I need to think somethings over, and I don't want it to come between us. I'm leaving to go back home to Australia to clear my head for a few weeks. It pains me to do this, but it will make us stronger. I hope you can understand and won't be too upset at me. I'll make sure to call when I can. I love you. Love, Robert."
"I think you should leave." House stated simply, and it broke Chase's heart. He wouldn't even look at Chase.
"I'm so sorry." Chase whispered, and felt a tear slowly trail down his face.
"Get out." House's voice was icy, which made a lump form in Chase's stomach.
"Please-"
"No, Chase. Get the fuck out. Obviously you don't want to be here, so run home. Too bad daddy isn't home, he probably could of bought you a better boyfriend. Or should I say, completely idiot plaything."
"Greg, you know it isn't like that." Oh. So we were on first name bases now.
"Leave now before I shove my cane down your throat." Chase nodded, and walked away, walked out of House's life. The door closing was the most lonely noise he heard. Damn, what was this spell Chase put on House to make him feel so damn miserable that he considered crying? House picked up the phone and called his only reliable companion.
"How does getting completely wasted sound to you?"
"Why are you asking me?" Wilson sounded surprised.
"He left. He's out of my life."
"Really?" Wilson tried not to smile, he had heard people can tell when you smile on the phone.
"He didn't plan on telling me. I need to forget about everything. Meet me at the bar in 20." And House hung up, just like that. Wilson always had a thing for House, so when he heard he was going out with Chase, it broke his heart. That's why he went out with Amber: to forget his past and to make House jealous. When she died, Wilson thought it was a sign that he and House belonged together.
"I don't get it." House looked into this third empty glass and frowned. "I thought I could love someone. Guess I was wrong."
"Forget him." Wilson waved him off. He understood House was upset, but when will he shut the fuck up?
"I loved him." House slammed the glass down and waved down the bartender. "I honestly never loved anyone." Do it, James. Wilson thought to himself. He's weak, he's depressed.
"House, come home with me. I think I can help." House turned to look at him. Wilson blushed a light pink and House wasn't sure if it was because he was drunk or embarrassed. Either way, he was alone now.
"Sure. But you're paying."