Title: Hello, Reality
Author: alakewood
Fandom: Gossip Girl
Rating: Soft R. Use of the f-word, nudity, and allusions to sex.
Summary: It seems as though nobody liked the ending of 1.10 (Hi, Society). But I kind of did. It left a lot open. This is more-or-less a coda to the last scenes of the Nate/Blair/Chuck triangle.
A/N: I own nothing.
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Things had seemed so much clearer at the Cotillion, as they were leaving. And it had been a real turn on to see Nate punch Carter. The fact that somebody wanted her enough to fight for her. It was kind of romantic in a way.
Nate had removed her bra, was reaching for her underwear, when she just...couldn't. Couldn't go through with it. For the longest time, she'd fantasized about and wished for this moment. Now, as that dream was starting to come true, she couldn't. Looking at Nate above her, Blair realized she had no real feelings for him. When actually thinking for herself, this wasn't what she wanted.
Her mind flitted back to her last night with Chuck. Chuck, who at one point in time made her skin crawl, now made her feel things she'd never believed she could. Real desire and passion. He never judged her. Let her be who and what she wanted. With him, didn't have to pretend to be some perfect thing perched on a pedestal. Not that Chuck didn't have her on a pedestal – well, it was more like she was his altar, and he worshipped at her feet. Worshipped her. He wasn't careful, didn't treat her like she'd break unless handled with the gentlest touch. He took, and she gave. Let herself go.
Thinking back to the dance, it occurred to her that, maybe Chuck's plan wasn't exactly what she'd first believed it to be. True, he'd manipulated Nate into hitting Carter, but it wasn't to ruin her big night. Well, in a way, it kind of was. But he was making sure that it wasn't him causing the scene. It was his way of trying to get her attention back, let her know that he'd be willing to fight for her – but he was a bit more subtle about it.
Nate stilled above her, hand still tangled in her hair. "Hey. You okay? We can go slow if you want."
Blair shook her head, just the slightest of movements. "No."
His fingertips trailed up her side, over her ribs and the side of her breast, her neck, before gently stroking her heated cheek. "What is it, Blair?"
"I can't do this."
"I know – it's your first time, it's scary. But we can take our time. I won't hurt you."
"No, Nate."
He looked so confused, eyebrows drawn together, that pensive, one-depressing-thought-away-from-brooding look firmly in place. "I don't…"
"I fucked Chuck," she blurted, the confession followed by a short, sharp laugh that was either from surprise of actually saying it or, maybe, how it sounded when she said it.
Nate stared at her as if she were alien or as if she'd been speaking in tongues. So many emotions played across the soft features of his face. His mouth formed a straight line, he pressed his lips together, squeezing his eyes closed tight as he tried to comprehend her admission. When his eyes opened to look at her again, the dark blue was marred by the heartbreak evident in their depths.
Blair felt surprisingly liberated by knowing that she made him feel this way – made him feel the exact same way he'd made her feel. She leaned up on her elbows, pressing her body against his. "Let him make love to me, too."
"No." Nate refused to believe it.
"Yes." Slow curl of the corner of her mouth as she remembered the first time, in the back of the limo. Almost felt guilty for enjoying this. Almost.
"Why? To get back at me?" he asked in an incredulous whisper.
"I don't know. Maybe. It might be part of the reason, but not the only one. He was there for me. Has always been there. Through everything. He was there on my birthday when you couldn't even call."
"After everything - everyone - he's done?"
"Oh, like you're one to judge! You slept with my best friend!"
He averted his gaze at that. "That's different."
Blair scoffed. "How so? Because you love her?" She shoved him off of her, towards the foot of the bed.
Nate shrugged, looking at her from under his eyelashes, trying to think of a way to salvage this. "Blair."
She sat up, leaning back on her hands. Shaking her head, her tousled hair fell around her shoulders, contrasting with her pale skin in the moonlit darkness of her bedroom. "Nate." Eyebrows raised expectantly. "Did you honestly think I could take you back so easily?"
He opened his mouth to speak, but just sighed instead.
"I know about the ring. About how you were going to give it to me in some attempt to help your dad get my mom's account. That you were going to use me. And I know about what happened at the masked ball. With Jenny. How you kissed her thinking she was Serena. So don't judge him, and don't judge me. Especially when you're no better yourself."
"I think I should go," he said quietly, reaching for his pants and shirt.
"I think that's the best idea you've had in a while." She watched him dress and leave; waited for the soft sound of the door catching before she reached for her cell phone. She dialed Chuck. He'd understand, she was sure of it.
Normally, he'd pick up after the second or third ring – he'd never not answer. But it just rang. And rang. And rang. Then went to his voicemail.
He'd understand, wouldn't he?
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