author's note: I wrote this a while back, I think in the first season, before 'I love yous' were even in the equation. Just a little one-shot.
Blair lay on Chuck's bed, eyes closed and stretched out in lingerie, resting her head on his chest. She heard the strike of a match, and looked up to find Chuck lighting a cigar.
"You're smoking," she said, and crinkled her nose, still managing to look adorable.
"Excellent observation," he replied indifferently. Blair made an impatient noise, which Chuck ignored completely.
"It's a disgusting habit," she scolded. "You're going to give me cancer, or worse, wrinkles. You might even get sick. Not that I care." He chuckled softly, and pressed the cigar to his lips again, blowing out an impressive cloud of smoke. Blair sat up, pouting, and placed her head on his headboard. She crossed her arms sullenly.
"What?" she snapped, agitation sneaking into her tone. Chuck turned to face her, smirking.
"You're not worried about wrinkles," he said softly, tucking a lock of hair behind her ear. "You're worried about me." Blair snorted, acting as incredulous as possible. "It's charming, really," Chuck added, a hint of triumph in his voice.
"More like nauseating," she retorted, but she was blushing. Chuck focused his gaze on the ceiling for a moment, taking one last long drag.
"You care about me," he murmured, almost as if to himself. Blair cast her eyes down, disconcerted at the thought. Chuck put out the cigar, laying it in the ashtray. He caressed her cheek, softly tracing her jaw, and they turned to face each other. For a second, they simply gazed at one another, taking in the moment. Blair closed the distance between them with a slow kiss, placing her arms on Chuck's shoulders. As they kissed, Blair carefully outstretched her hands, grasped the pack of cigars, and threw them into a nearby wastebasket, returning her full attention to Chuck when she was finished.