Especially the Angry Sex
By: Shelby
Chuck stopped in front of the bedroom door and took a deep breath. Carefully, he removed his shoes. He knew that to cause a single noise would surely be the death of him – and no, that was not exaggeration. Surely, her threats were numerous, but that did not lessen the meaning she packed behind them in any way.
Finally, he found the strength within himself to slowly turn the knob. It seemed silly, a man, and a billionaire, to act so cowardly. Did not the greatest men in history find fatality due to a woman though? He shook his head, knowing it best not to cloud his thoughts, but focus on the current task at hand. He needed to get to bed, before his wife—Blair Bass, awoke and murdered him.
He took one step into the room.
"You take another and it will be your last. I will not have you in my bed, Chuck Bass. I will not have you ever again," Blair remarked, her voice proclaiming loudly through the darkness.
Chuck froze immediately. He knew by the sound and now the smell, which he became aware of, that she had polished off a good amount of his liquor cabinet. It was rare to find Blair Waldorf drunk, but she was no longer Blair Waldorf. She was Blair Bass, who had been persuaded by her husband on many occasions to drink.
"Do you not think you are being a tad dramatic, dear? I only wish to make it up to you," Chuck replied, making sure not to sigh or sound at all aggravated with her current state—though in fact, he truly was.
She sat up in bed and threw on the lights. "You wish to do nothing, but sneak by me like the scum you are! It is all you ever do anymore!" Blair shouted, flaring her arms in the air.
He leaned against the bedroom doorframe. "Blair, it was very important that I attended the Gala tonight for Bass Industries. I gave you an invitation, one you should have accepted as my wife—"
"Not on our anniversary!" She quickly cut him off, finding herself nauseous to hear another word of his bull. Her head shook and she used her hands as if to shoo him from the room. "Now go! You are no longer welcome here!"
"I own this penthouse and this building so I will go wherever in it, I damn well please!" Chuck retorted, getting worked up. He had never met a woman who thought she could order him around the way Blair did.
"Well you will not be in the same bed as I! So let us look at it this way, husband! If you come towards this bed I will leave our home and never come back. Second option, sleep on the couch and beg for forgiveness for the rest of your miserable life—which I assure you, it will be miserable," Blair spat. After proclaiming her threat she gave a definite nod and lied back down. She knew she had won. There was no way he would risk her leaving him, not after what had happened last time. For once, she had the upper hand—even if it was not in an emotional sense.
Chuck did not take another step towards the bed, but hesitated in the doorway. Then he stepped out, pretending to close the door, but listened in the small crack he had made. He heard her let herself go. He could practically smell the salt from her tears that began to flow down her cheeks. She was crying and she was hurting, but he made no move to comfort her. If he did in their current situation, it would only hurt her pride. He decided he had hurt her enough that night already.
Instead, he pretended to return to the room like a coward. He cracked the door open, making it creek, which gave her enough time to mask herself. He stuck in only his head.
"Blair, I love you," Chuck told her. It was sincere, but in the form of begging He couldn't help it. He wanted nothing more than to crawl into the bed and hold her, but he wouldn't. In order to do that he would have to rearrange time and select their anniversary over business, but he knew given the chance—he wouldn't. They were different in that aspect. Blair spent time remembering the past, while Chuck was always running from it. Dates were of no importance to him, they never would be.
Blair lied silently for a few moments. Then she rolled over, so her back faced him. She heard the door close.
XOXOXOXOXO
Chuck stared at Blair through the glass window of the restaurant. She sat there, shameless, with a huge smile on her face as she waited for the man she had went with to return—as for Chuck, he was scowling or glaring—perhaps a mixture of both. He felt a sick feeling in his stomach. It was more than just the alcohol that made him want to vomit, but he put it off and decided to save it for later. He brought out the flask in his front coat pocket, finished it off, and then threw it against a street lamp.
The metal clanked and several woman around him screamed, but he pushed right past all who he had disturbed and entered the restaurant. He marched right up to his bitch of a wife and slammed a velvet jewelry box on the table.
Blair jumped at first, but only from the commotion. When she looked up to see Chuck, her eyes calmed. If anything she appeared only annoyed, but that deep down she had expected him.
"What do you want?" Blair asked. She took a sip of her wine and set it down as if all was normal. For her it was and it should have been for New York too. Chuck and Blair Bass fights had become infamous.
"What do I want? What do I want?" Chuck scoffed, holding his hand to his chest. He then threw his hands in the air. "I'll tell you and everyone else what I fucking want!" His chest heaved up and down as he struggled for air.
She looked around at the appalled faces and then directed her attention back to him. "Well, you best go on and say it then," Blair smirked.
His right hand burned to smack her across the face for demeaning him in such a way. Of course he didn't though. Chuck didn't beat his wife. They got physical, but it was always equal strengths battling against each other.
"There!" His voice slurred as he pointed to the velvet box on the table. "There's your fucking present you didn't even open!" He sounded like a child, upset with their mother for not giving them attention.
Her eyes flickered down to the box and back to his. "I did open it. I don't want it. I don't want anything from you," she said calmly.
Chuck bit down hard on his bottom lip. Then he let out a cry of sheer anger. He grabbed the box and threw it on the table, causing plates and glasses to smash and crash. He pushed it over next, jerking her chair so that she faced him completely.
"Would you rather have something from him?" Chuck raged, pointing towards the hallway, which her mystery man had disappeared. "Because I'll tell you right now he isn't as rich as me!"
Blair rolled her eyes. "It's not a contest, Chuck. Plus you being so rich are why I no longer want anything from you. In order to be so rich you must always work, which you do. At least he has time for me," she told him in a matter-of-fact voice.
Chuck screamed again like a jealous fool, which he was, and moved as if to pounce on his wife. However, he felt someone rudely grab him from behind and pull him back. He whipped around, glaring at who it was. It was he.
"I think it best you leave Blair alone tonight. Clearly, you are upsetting everyone's evening," the man said in a polite, but strict tone.
Chuck laughed, like a mad man, nodding his head. He grabbed the lapels of the other man's jackets and threw him against the crashed table. "I'm upsetting Blair, am I? Good! It's about time I do something to the damn bitch and she reacts!" he screamed.
The man's eyes widened in shock and he tried to hide the pain as his back hit the floor. "What kind of a bastard calls his wife a bitch, even more so in public?" he spat.
"You just said it yourself, a Basstard," Blair answered, brushing off her dress. She then stood and crossed her arms. She stared down at her husband who had taken on animalistic means. Chuck seemed to be deciding if he would throw a punch. Meanwhile he just held the man down, refusing to let him up and anywhere near her.
"Chuck, get up," Blair sighed, shaking her head.
"I've been trying! If you would let me in the damn bed again instead of fucking this moron then maybe I would!" Chuck yelled, deciding then it was the correct moment to punch the man in the mouth.
The audience in the room winced, but Blair didn't seem to notice it. She ran a hand through her hair. "I'm not sleeping with him. He's my new business partner. I was only using him to piss you off and clearly it worked," she explained, sounding rather proud of herself towards the end.
Chuck jerked up, off the groaning man, and stumbled towards her. "You what?" he spat. He shook his head. "Do you have any idea that I have been watching you with him every night like some psycho husband—"
Blair cut him off, putting her hand to his lips. She smiled, "You are a psycho husband, dear. Anyone here would vouch for it, I assure you."
When she removed her hand, he huffed and glared. "I hate you, woman. I'll hate you till I die," Chuck spat.
She sighed, putting on her coat. "Perhaps you think so tonight, but one of these days you'll realize that you love me more than you can handle, and I you. Now give the restaurant your Amex information to pay for all of this and let's be on our way," Blair instructed.
He looked around, slightly defensively when he realized everyone was watching. Then he returned to her. "You dress is a bit short, don't you think? Asshole down there probably thought you charge by the hour," Chuck muttered, pointing to the man on the ground. He wanted to have the last word, but she of course would not give it to him.
Blair smiled, touching his back and leading him towards the doors. "You bought me this dress, husband. So thank you for such a lovely compliment," she replied coolly.
The doors opened and they walked out to the limo. She urged him in first, giggling as he fell onto his stomach. When she got in, she playfully smacked him on the bottom.
"Scoot over, you drunken Basshole," Blair commanded, crossing her legs. She sat pristine and proper, wanting to piss him off further.
Chuck studied this for a moment, scoffed, and crawled up on her. He draped his hands around her and began to angrily kiss her neck. His hands pulled roughly at her clothes.
Blair turned her cheek so she met his eyes. She smirked and then kissed him strong on the lips, falling onto her back. She felt him come over her in a matter of seconds. The marriage was dysfunctional, yes—but the sex was great…especially the angry sex.
XOXOXOXOXOXO
A/N: No idea where this came from, but I hope you enjoyed it.