A/N : This is completely random, yet something I felt like writing at the moment. It's slightly AU, and there are no mentions of Chuck/Louis/baby...Nothing. Just Dan and Blair, in an odd situation. How will they find their way out? Or better, will they find their way out?
She can almost feel the pricking liquid, that uncanny bittersweet taste lingering beneath her tongue. It's uncomfortable, it's completely queer. How did they even end up in Brooklyn?
She doesn't know, and even though she's craving to find out what exactly happened before, everything's extremely blurry. Indistinct.
Blair Waldorf's life is never indistinct. Every and each segment of her life demands planning, and planning, and extra planning. With her, you always know.
She's never been one of those uneasy persons. She never had that problem.
Until this very moment when someone's hand seems to be enough convincible to take her there.
Where?
She never liked Dan Humphrey.
He never fit into the idea of her "perfect man", quite the opposite.
For Blair and her snobbish attitude Dan Humphrey was first a poor guy from Brooklyn, Serena's new fling, then the love of her life, but she always knew it won't last forever. With Serena - it never does.
Somehow, Dan Humphrey meant nothing to her, for more than four years.
Then, they discovered that common passion for movies, good piece of fiction, art, poesy, literature.
Suddenly it all became Dan and Blair visiting the art galleries, museums, cinemas; Her mailbox was full of his messages where he'd randomly spam her about Rosemary's baby or watching Breakfast at Tiffany's with paying attention to details, to watch how Holly and Paul's "simple yet so incredible love story unfolds" like she demanded. He used to send her a piece of fluff he's been writing and she'd be harsh - as always. Her mobile phone was full of his messages and their arrangements to meet, her purse full of old tickets, her Netflix queue with movies they would watch, she even had her own copy of New York magazine thanks to him who used to bring it to her each month.
Nothing. That's what they were to each other.
They never wanted more.
Yet it happened.
Friends. They never wanted more than that. Friends were good. Friends was satisfying, friends was enough.
Yet tonight...
All she wants is the touch of his hand, now, as if her life depends on it. She wants to scream his name as they're walking down the lonely street in Brooklyn. It's night, her make-up is ruined, her heels make her feel off-balance and if Dan Humphrey's hand wasn't holding her back she could swear she'd pass out every second. She swallows and stops for a second to sniff the smell of bilberries she remembers she felt somewhere and it was not Dan Humphrey's neck. Blair can't sense the identical fragrance she felt only a minute ago, so she keeps going until she stops again to look at Dan Humphrey's smiling face. Finally, she opens her mouth to speak :
"That was so cheesy and wretch at the same time, good job Humphrey!"
"Like you had any choice."
"And it's Christmas Eve."
"And it's Christmas Eve."
"And we're drunk." she repeats.
"And we're dru..." he whispers in her year coming dangerously close.
They're both lost, still they hold onto one thing that now seems like it has to be done.
His hands are now cupping her face, looking at her beautiful smile. She seems so fragile, so innocent, sheer image of pureness right there in front of his eyes. At this point, he doesn't see her as a queen of the Upper East side. She's not Lonely Boy from Brooklyn anymore. They're just two people with common lust, craving to pull each other into a long, romantic, anticipated kiss.
Something is telling him this is wrong so he swallows harder and looks down taking her hand again.
"Let's just...go watch a movie."
She is almost embarrassed for a second, until everything becomes blurry again and she barely murmurs "Let's."
"It's Christmas Eve, after all."
"What a way to start Christmas, Humphrey."
"I'm lucky we found a way to this place...Never thought we'd...How about we just sleep? Or you take me..ho..home."
"And skip our Valentine's Day movies tradition! Have you lost your mind?"
"Sober enough to apprehend that, huh?" she knits her brow rolling her eyes in a huff.
He's about to randomly pick a DVD from his collection when she raises her voice :
"Wait you said it's Christmas Eve!"
"I don't know is it?" he asks looking around the loft trying to find a clue.
Nothing.
"Maybe it is Valentine's day. Or Easter." she shrugs.
He can't concentrate on anything else but her lips.
It was chilly outside and she might want some tea.
"Do you want tea?"
"No." she shakes her head making herself comfortable on the sofa while blatantly staring at the TV. TV that's turned off.
"But..."
He's now curiously looking at her, waiting for the next move even though it seems they're miles away.
"I am feeling cold."
"What can we do about that, Blair?" he asks in a completely innocent way, with a hidden agenda he'd never have if they were sober.
She knows it. He knows it.
She shrugs again pursing her lips "I just thought you could...come over with that movie."
"Well I can't" he says in a playful tone, still squinting at her lips.
"This DVD is not working." she says randomly dropping the box from the table straight on the floor.
"Can you pick it up for me, every bone in my body aches?"
"Um..sure." he's now walking towards her, ready to pick it up, his sight clearly sticked on the yellow box lying on the floor.
He bows to reach it when he feels her hand caressing his back.
Immediately he feels chills.
"Blair..."
"What..." she says her tone surprisingly endearing now. "I told you I'm feeling cold so I was wondering if you could give me your...shirt." she clears her throat and stops playing with the piece of clothing.
He puts the box back on the table and nods.
"Sure."
Without thinking, he unbuckles his belt.
"Dan...I wanted the shirt." she says trying to sound serious, pretending that her pulse didn't quicken on the image of him unzipping his pants.
"Sure."
He starts unbuttoning his shirt and finally hands it to her, leaving her to stare at his naked torso.
"Than...inks."
Blair wants him so much. She doesn't even know her name, where she is at the moment, the reason of her existence; all she knows is that she wants him tonight, right here, right now.
He keeps staring at her like that until she continues :
"The problem is, I don't know this..buttoning system." she grunts.
"I'm sure it's a huge problem." he sits next to her trying to button the shirt for her noticing she's not wearing a bra.
His hand stops right there, he wants to let go, and he can't.
"Dan." she coughs
"Yes, Blair?" he says weakly.
"You..." she's now deeply staring at his eyes, carefully observing his moves.
"I was just wondering if...it might be easier for you to... take it off." she finally says and gulps.
That's where their conversation ends.
Her voice, the way she said that, and everything about tonight makes him really, really horny. Horny to the point he can't resist, can't fight it anymore.
He is way too close now, there's no turning back. They're halfway naked and she wants him so much, she doesn't know if it's because of the vodka, liquor or something else but even his breathing is driving her up a wall, tingling every cell in her body.
She grabs him and he doesn't reject. They're now drinking each other, his fingers playing with her hair until he lustfully takes her shirt off, their mouth glued together and she won't let go. Her hands are exploring every part of his body as he moans loudly on every move she makes.
She's looking at him, like she knows what she was doing. He asks her if she really wants it, and she nods, then whispers an affirmative "yes" in his year, her warm breath making him feel helpless.
This needs to be done.
They might regret it tomorrow, but now it seems so far away.
So they hold onto each other, Blair Waldorf onto Dan Humphrey and Dan Humphrey onto Blair Waldorf.
Like tomorrow doesn't matter.