Deciphering Chase
Fingers smoothing his ugly tie, hand through his perfect hair, both hands grasping the lab coat and resettling it around himself, hiding his body from viewing from passing nurses and erstwhile doctors. Chase has a bad habit of fidgeting and there’s that oral fixation that takes up his time too. Foreman scoffs and goes back to his charting. If Chase just sits still and pays attention instead of all that ADD-crap, he’d be one hell of a better doctor.
The stories swirl through his mind, everything Chase tells the patients.
They’re all lies.
He knows for a fact
*
The tequila went down so smoothly and Chase was grinning at him, leaning forward and laughing at the joke Foreman was telling. It was … what was the word; it was reassuring to see Chase laugh. Meant he was human, just like the rest of the world. Chase had a really pretty smile and that would have alarmed Foreman, but truth be told, he had those ‘Chase is pretty’ thoughts more and more often lately.
“Eric,” Chase sputtered as he caught his breath.
But Foreman wasn’t listening to any protests, he was leaning across the table and handing Chase another shot of tequila, which he took it without even realizing. He downed it and before he could grab for a lemon to ease the bite, Foreman leaned across and cupped Chase’s cheek, kissing him with a thousand ‘what-if’ thoughts. Chase tipped his head to one side and placed a hand to his cheek, just atop Foreman’s hand.
When Foreman eased away, Chase had a dreamy look on his face.
“Oh, tequila’s good,” was what he whispered under his breath, eyes wide. “Christ, were you trying to suck out my tonsils?” Chase shook his head. “One damn good kiss,” he muttered under his breath.
“You had your tonsils out when you were twelve, man,” Foreman pointed out warily, holding up his beer to salute Chase. He should feel uneasy, right? So why was it the only thing he felt was the curiosity about what it would be like to kiss Chase a little more, tumbling through an apartment, backs slamming against walls, biting and tasting skin, hearing Chase scream.
He swallowed and crossed his legs to settle himself and he watched Chase touch his lips.
“That’s what you tell all your patients, remember?” Foreman prodded along with a gentle laugh. Leave it to Chase to forget things like that.
Chase grinned and it was pretty too. “Still got my tonsils.”
*
Foreman starts to wonder what is truth with Chase anyway. The man builds up so many walls, he’s his own great pyramid and it makes getting to know him next to impossible. It makes dating him infuriatingly difficult. He makes a few notes on his chart and lifts his gaze to watch Chase flirt with one of the nurses.
Foreman tries to quell his jealousy. It’s not like he would do anything. Not after the talk.
*
“Everyone’s left me,” Chase said one night, his head in Foreman’s lap while they watch White Christmas on television and Foreman wondered if Chase had ever sang, that voice and his accent wrapping around vowels. It would be sexy, Foreman bet, but sexy wasn’t what Foreman was thinking about because Chase’s words were sort of alarming.
Foreman stroked his fingers through Chase’s hair, trying to pay attention to the movie and not show all his cards. “Chase,” his voice was soft. “Man, what are you talking about?”
“I never got to be the one to cheat or break up,” Chase was just talking. He didn’t even seem connected to the words. In fact, his attention was very much on the movie. “I always get left. I never do the leaving.”
“You planning on leaving me?” Foreman scoffed, fingers stroking Chase’s cheek now – a little desperately if he’d admit it, he doesn’t want to be left any more than Chase wanted to be left. “Typically, you don’t tell the dumpee he’s going to get dumped.”
“Don’t be ridiculous,” Chase scowled. “I wouldn’t do something stupid like that. I just wanted you to know, for when you…”
They had stumbled into awkward conversation territory and Foreman closed his eyes tightly.
“Rob,” Foreman said firmly. “I only ever leave if there’s a damn good reason to go. You uh, you and me keep this up like it’s been going, I won’t.”
Chase looked up at Foreman and it almost looked like he was going to say something else to him, something probably very important. Instead, he sat up, turned off the movie, and sang a few verses of ‘Easy To Love’ out of nowhere as he straddled Foreman’s lap.
Foreman kind of got the message.
*
Foreman watches Chase walk towards him, nodding towards the on-call room. Foreman follows, tucking his pen into his pocket. The movie had been last night and since then, Foreman’s still wondering what it all meant. Did they take a step?
Foreman closes the door behind him and arches an eyebrow. “What’s up?”
“I love you.”
Foreman blinks as the epiphany hits him. That’s what Chase had been about to say the night before. “You…Chase, man, I know this is going to sound insensitive, but…”
Before Foreman can get another word across, Chase has crossed the room and is kissing Foreman desperately, both hands cupping Foreman’s cheeks and pressing their bodies together. When he parts, Foreman is left staring. Maybe he isn’t sure he’s ever going to one hundred percent ever trust Chase’s words, that kiss did a whole lot of talking.
Chase leans in for a softer kiss, then rests his head tiredly on Foreman’s shoulder.
“Do you believe me?” Chase asks quietly.
Before, Foreman might have said no. But no…Christ, his lips still burn from the kiss and his stomach is tumbling with butterflies and nerves and he’s stroking Chase’s hair again, running a hand down that silk tie and adjusting his lab coat for him.
“Yeah, Chase,” Foreman nods. “Yeah, I think I love you too.”
Now he’s got one goal alone. Don’t hurt Chase. Don’t leave him. Maybe eventually, Foreman can coax only truths from that pretty mouth of his. Lies can be a thing of the past. He knows he can be good for Chase.
And that’s a fact.
end