Dr. Rob Chase

The Doctor looked at each of them, opening them and grinning like a loon with each one. He looked over the paper, flushed, and folded it, putting it in his pocket to read later, then kissed Chase on the cheek. "You made the cupcakes?"

"I made them all by myself," he said, more proud of that than anything, beaming away as he looked the Doctor in the eye. The paper...well. "I know you're nine hundred and seventy six, but according to what you look like, it's thirty four. Which is why the paper is thirty-four things about you that I love so much that I'm not sure how I got by without them before."

He could be a hopeless romantic. He just had to be in love, completely and totally.

The Doctor promptly ate one, without a word further. Mouth half full and a smear of frosting on his upper lip, he said, "You are entirely too much, you know that?"

Chase gave the Doctor a dubious look when he ate the cupcake like he was all of five-years-old and leaned over with a napkin to wipe off the smeared frosting, giving him a pointed smile. "It's a gift. Now, that t-shirt took me five hours to find. So don't rip it for some idiot's sake this time. Got it?"

Mindful of the weather, Chase hadn't put on a suit jacket, considering they were going to be out in the middle of the day. He'd just put on a short-sleeved white shirt with a navy tie and a pair of jeans, converse sneakers that the Doctor had given him for Christmas on his shoes. He had the chain around his neck as always and a newly-wrapped gift ready along with sandwiches.

He was almost fairly sure, even, that they were in no way poisonous.

Now just came time to summon the Doctor and head for the beach, which he did by lazily lounging in the doorway of their room. Or suite. Whatever they were calling in. "Role call," he drawled, peeking into the room. "I'm looking for a Doctor, one."

House made a muffled sound of surprise, completely shocked.

He almost shoved Chase away, because honestly, the last thing he needed right now was sex, and he couldn't really understand why he was kissing him anyway, after the way House had treated him. But he didn't want to risk making things worse. And maybe it would be good to feel something else and forget for a second anyway.

Chase just looked up, a little bit of him still feeling like shit from the previous night, but he wanted to at least try and make things right. So he helped House to find the couch and knelt down before him, handing him the blanket. "Cover me up."

House groaned a little. Okay, he'd reassess his sex life after this...

"Rob, are you... am I suddenly just that irrisistable?"

Chase just looked him over, nodding a little and tugging off his own shirt, running both hands through his hair to get it off his face. "I want to feel something," he said, voice hoarse and low. "And I want it to be this."

Chase had stepped into the shower for a much needed soak, standing there under the steam of the water and exhaling slowly. It felt good, just to stand there and wash everything away. He felt more in control of his life too, like cutting off the amount of sex was doing something. Of course, it also meant he wound up horny as hell at the smallest of things.

He turned off the water, reaching out to grasp a towel and slinging it around his hips, knotting it and grabbing another towel to shake through his hair, tossing it into a laundry area as he peered into the mirror, checking for things like zits and acne. When he gave himself the all clear, he knotted the towel and shifted a little, debating whether to go get his clothes from the wash or maybe find a stall and tend to personal matters.

He was skipping rocks by the beach and contemplating what he'd just done. Okay, not the actual mechanics of that, because that part, he got. He skipped a rock and watched it go, thinking about how good it'd felt to just have no-strings-attached sex again. Almost too nice.

He shouldn't keep doing that, though. Not with people who meant nothing.

He skipped the rocks again, wondering how House was feeling lately, wondering if he and Wilson were back together yet.

Chase was drunk.

There was no bar on the island, but there was Jay's provisions and he was in his private room and he had the two days off and he was, quite frankly, drunk and thinking about the way House's fingers were calloused and the shape of his lips and the way his eyes bore into him without even trying and he was so flying high and drunk it wasn't funny.

He had to think about something else. Anything else.

Mal ducks down into the bunk after Chase, barely flinching as the door shuts with a clang behind him.

He stands there, lookin' at Chase, lookin' round his bunk, and he's damned glad the crew's taken to occupyin' themselves a lot more lately. The thought makes him smirk, n' then he's making his way toward Chase, stoppin' just before him. "All right, doc. Y'got your privacy. How's 'bout we get to seein' what's's good as doin'?"

Chase slowly loosens the knot of his tie, standing and facing Mal's cot, the burn still low and consistent in his stomach. "Seeing," he echoes, unbuttoning his shirt slowly.