1 Chase, 2 Chase/Foreman, alphabetdrabble

[lovely_ambition]

Chase had a light scar on his palm that he touched compulsively, the scar that he'd been left with one day at his father's work. There had been a scalpel lying about and it had been a complete accident; he still vividly remembered begging for forgiveness.

It had been his father who had pressed a cotton swab to it and smiled lovingly, as only a father could. He'd ruffled Chase's hair and warned him not to do it again. Chase held to that scar as a pleasant memory and a sign that his father did, in fact, once love him.





Foreman calls what they have a 'tryst'. Chase calls it a 'fucked up relationship'. It's over dinner that they discuss the label that they're avoiding putting on themselves and Foreman just scoffs about the semantics as Chase orders red wine.

"It's sex. We're just having a tryst," he protests.

Chase just smirks. "Ongoing tryst," he counters, "means it's a relationship."

They argue about it the entirety of the night and don't stop arguing until they're kissing heatedly in Chase's apartment, trying to desperately strip each other as quickly as possible. And even then, between kisses, they argue a little more.





Foreman was straddling Chase and teasing him; it was the first time they had sex since the Vogler mess. Chase took it, because if he could take House's torture, then he could take Foreman being a playful ass. "He called you a nefarious genius," he chortled, hands on Chase's shoulders, creating a sharp contrast of colours.

"He did not," Chase protested. "Not in so many words, I guess."

Foreman just kissed him. "Chase," he laughed against Chase's swollen lips. "You couldn't be more harmless if you tried. You're like a puppy who whines on a bad day, can't even bark."