A/N: Hi! So this is my take on what could have happened during 5x20 when Chuck finds out Diana is his mother.
This is also my first attempt at anything that resembles smut, and while I know I could have gone a lot further, this was the most I was comfortable with for now. It was also supposed to be dark and a bit violent, as Chuck is, but with hopefully some sweet in character moments. Anyway, hope you enjoy, and maybe you could leave a review?
Disclaimer: If I owned Gossip Girl, there would be no Serena, and much more gay sex. As goes for pretty much everything I watch/read.
"Chuck! Chuck, wait!" called Nate, rushing after Chuck.
"Nate, leave it. He needs to be alone," said Blair tiredly, pulling at his arm. He wrenched away from him, and spun around angrily.
"Don't you tell me what he needs. You have no idea!" he shouted at her, and she cowered. Serena rushed to her side, and opened her mouth to say something to chastise Nate, he was sure, but he didn't have time for them. He had to find Chuck. Racing out the door after him, he caught a glimpse of purple as the elevator doors closed, and swearing, jabbed at the buttons. It took far too long, but he knew it wouldn't do any good to take the stairs either; from a penthouse, he was sure he would die of exhaustion.
By the time he made it downstairs to the lobby and out the door into the freezing cold, Chuck was gone. The Empire. He had to have gone there. Jumping into a cab, he ordered the driver to floor it, waving a hundred dollar bill in his face. The car accelerated so violently that he was thrown back in his seat. Thank God for New York cabbies.
As he hurtled out the door and towards the Empire when they reached the destination, he could hear the guy yelling after him about the change, but he waved a hand behind him, and shoved someone out of the elevator, ignoring their protests.
"Come on, come on," he muttered impatiently, as the elevator slowly made its way up to Chuck's suite. Finally, the doors opened, and Nate was overwhelmed with the smell of Scotch and acrid hooker perfume. Nate would know that smell anywhere; Chuck was always lingering with it.
He burst into the bedroom, where Chuck lay sprawled, almost unconscious, already, a bottle of Scotch in his hand, a naked woman attached to his dick by the mouth. He snorted in disgust and pulled the woman off him. She squealed and struggled.
"Get out," Nate ordered, and she grabbed her clothes and rushed out.
"What the fuck do you think you're doing, Nathaniel?" asked Chuck, almost lazily. He didn't move. His dick was still hard.
"Jesus, Chuck, we have to talk about this. You can't just go and fuck some random hooker every time something shit happens in your life," Nate said angrily, wrenching the Scotch bottle out of Chuck's hand, who put up little resistance. He made no attempt to conceal himself. Nate had seen it all before.
"And what do you propose I do? What is the standard response when you discover your mother isn't who you thought she was? That she's some slut who's fucking my best friend?" Chuck exploded suddenly, pulling himself off the bed in one swift move. His face was inches from Nate's, and his dick even closer. Nate felt his own twitch, even at a time like this.
"Chuck. I … I'm sorry. I didn't know. And I shouldn't have anyway," Nate said softly, the anger gone. He should be ashamed. He had no idea what this must feel like for Chuck. Chuck turned away, grabbing a robe and draping it around himself. He staggered away, and Nate followed.
"Why shouldn't you? It's not like we're only fucking each other, is it? Or is that what you want?" Chuck said viciously, pouring another glass of Scotch and downing it. Nate could tell he was trying to be cruel. Chuck did cruel well, and this was no exception. He knew Nate only wanted him, but he fucked other women to try and make Chuck happy.
"Don't do that, Chuck. Don't you push me away because you're fucked up right now," he warned, trying not to let the barbs sting too much.
"You're right, Nathaniel, I am fucked up. Just leave me the fuck alone. We both know there's other places you could go to get your dick wet, so just fuck off and leave me alone," Chuck hissed, throwing the glass against the wall. It shattered and rained shards of glass all over the kitchen.
"Oh, and do me a favour. Don't fuck my mother again," he added, throwing Nate a malicious look over his shoulder. Nate snapped. He lunged at Chuck, throwing him up against the bench, hard. It had to have hurt, especially since the glass was still lying around, but Chuck didn't move.
"Get your hands off me, Nathaniel," he said softly, not attempting to remove them himself. Nate tightened his grip.
"You shut the fuck up, Chuck. I get it. I get that you're angry, and confused, and pretty fucking devastated, OK? But you do not get to take it out on me," Nate said angrily. Chuck said nothing.
"You know you're not just a fuck for me, OK? You really wanna make me say it? You want me to say I love you? Is that it? Because, fuck, you're doing a really good job of making me fucking hate you right now," Nate said, and let Chuck go in disgust. Chuck gathered himself together, and looked at him, his expression a mixture of hurt and anger.
"You don't love me. No one loves me. My mother obviously didn't. My father never did. Blair's too shallow for her to have ever loved me," he said, more to himself than to Nate. Nate shook his head in disbelief, and dove at Chuck again, but this time he smashed his lips against Chuck's instead of screaming in his face.
Chuck seemed to respond better to this course of action. He didn't hesitate; he kissed back, hard. His tongue fought for dominance, but for once, he didn't win. Nate shoved Chuck against the bench again, pinning his arms behind him. If Chuck was surprised by his sudden show of strength, he didn't show it, allowing Nate to devour him inch by inch. Nate pulled of Chuck's robe impatiently, and it slid to the floor around their feet.
Keeping his lips firmly on Chuck's lips, he wrapped his hand around Chuck's still hard dick and stroked gently. Chuck moaned, and Nate couldn't contain himself any longer. Lifting Chuck's lithe form onto the bench easily and brushing away the shards of glass, he pushed him on his back roughly. Not having enough time or patience to find the lube, he shoved his pants down impatiently and lined himself up, thrusting into Chuck roughly, making them both moan. He knew he was probably hurting him, but then they both liked it like this.
Thrusting several times, harder and rougher than the previous, Nate pumped Chuck's dick simultaneously until they were both on the brink of orgasm. Chuck's moans were punctuated by odd wracking noises, and Nate realised he was sobbing. He almost froze in shock, but he couldn't stop the motion of his hips, and with one final thrust, he felt himself come, and Chuck in his hand only a second after. He pulled out, and laid himself on the bench next to Chuck, both of them panting heavily, Chuck still in the midst of the wracking sobs running through his body.
He shook next to Nate, and Nate had never seen him look more … human. This was a side of Chuck no one had ever seen before; not his father, not Nate, not even Blair. Nate reached out tentatively to wrap around his arm around Chuck's still shaking form, and surprisingly, Chuck let him. They lay together, Chuck stark naked, Nate half-naked, until Chuck got a hold of himself, and was able to stop the tears.
"I do love you. And you know it," murmured Nate softly, stroking Chuck's hair. It felt strange, having such a submissive Chuck lying against him. Usually Nate was the one getting fucked, and there was never any cuddling afterwards. But then, there had never been the knowledge that Chuck's mother was still alive, had never wanted him and had been fucking Nate.
"I know," Chuck replied, so softly that Nate thought he imagined it. He didn't know how long they lay like that together in silence, but eventually, Chuck lifted himself off, and headed for the shower. Nate cleaned himself up, dressed, and disposed of the glass. If someone were to walk in now, it would look like nothing had happened.
Chuck took a ridiculously long time in the bathroom, even by his standards, but Nate was smart enough to know not to follow him in. Or maybe he just knew Chuck that well. Finally, Chuck emerged, dressed in one his immaculate purple suits. He looked exactly like the old Chuck; before any of this had happened.
"You speak of this to no one," he told Nate, pouring yet another glass of Scotch, but Nate could see that he needed it more to steady his nerves than to black out and forget. Nate felt a little disappointed; obviously the old Chuck was back. But he nodded, and stood somewhat awkwardly.
"And about what I said before? About fucking other people? Don't," he added, without looking at Nate. Nate grinned, and restrained himself from kissing Chuck. It would have been too much for him. Instead he settled for another nod, and he left silently, hoping that this time it would be different. This time Chuck would want him. This time it would work out.