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Story Notes:
Immortalje asked for House/Chase, with the following sentence: He couldn't believe that they were actually baking a cake together. I've never even *read* House/Chase but since I said I'd try anything once... so here's what came out.
He couldn't believe that they were actually baking a cake together. Actually it was less together and more, Chase baking, House watching and throwing in random comments about how Chase was doing it all wrong, while he watched from his propped up place at the kitchen island.

"You know if you know so much about baking, *you* could do it," Chase suggested cattily.

"But where would be the fun. Besides, I'm paying for the stripper, the least you can do it bake the cake... it was your idea to throw Wilson a party anyway," House reminded smugly.

"He just got divorced, he's lonely. Have a heart," Chase said.

House smirked. "I have one. Remember you felt it beating against you back last night when..."

"Greg," Chase growled, blushing hopelessly.

"Yes my sweet?" House grinned.

"Bastard," Chase said.

"Not what you were saying last night," House said.

"I hate you," Chase told him, carefully measuring the sugar.

"It's the price I have to pay for being such a hansom, brilliant, athletic Physician," House sighed dramatically.

"You know I'm only dating you to get to Wilson right..." Chase said.

"And I'm only letting you date me to piss off Cuddy. We both win," House said.

Chase shook his head, mixing the ingredients in the bowl together with smooth even strokes.

"You know... that's actually kinda hot," House commented thoughtfully. Chase gave him a look that suggested he was kinda crazy. "Couldn't we just buy Wilson a cake?" House asked.

"I've started now and..." Chase was cut off when House used his cane to lightly tap his behind.


"Yes?" House asked innocently.

"No..." Chase warned.

"No what?" House asked, licking his lips.

"No we aren't... ahhh... doing... oooh..." Chase moaned when House used the end of his cane to lightly trail over his groin, making it harden in his jeans. "That's cheating," Chase grumbled, letting himself be pulled around the counter.

"I know, I'm a bad, bad man," House said lightly. "A dirty horny old man," he added, his hand clasping lightly on the hardness in Chase's jeans.

"Very..." Chase agreed, groaning softly.

"So we're buying a cake right?" House asked, leaning forward just enough to scratch the side of Chase's face with his own stubbled jaw.

"Ahh... yeah, sure buying, good idea," Chase mumbled, moaning into House's mouth when he kissed him.

"My best idea all day," House agreed. And then there was really no need for talking.

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