A/N: For a prompt by Wigbee71583 on Gossip Girl Rare Pairings.
A/N2: Pre-series. Pete never died.
Warning: M. Smut. Substance abuse. Slash.
Disclaimer: I own nothing. It's all for the giggles.
}{
If she were another girl (a better girl), she'd be in in tears right now.
She should be unravelling at the seams like a cheap knockoff. She should be falling into pretty pieces labelled and filed under self-recrimination and whoredom. She should be attempting to cleanse her sins with scorching water and an uninspired Lady Macbeth impression.
Instead she's in an upscale hotel suite, swallowing back her guilt with a gin chaser.
She is Lily's daughter—all class.
(For this to be true, you only have to ignore Nate's mistake slippery between her legs and Pete slicing rails in the sheets beside her.)
There are no tears, just fear and nausea and Dom Pérignon's lingering touch. And Pete, of course, her newest mistake just waiting to happen.
His lips trace the strap of her slip, his body buzzing with the unnatural energy from his last hit.
"I can't do this." She might be broken, because those words have already left her lips, a sad echo of what she should have said to her best friend's boyfriend.
Georgina walks through the door, gimlet topped and impatience lacing her glare.
Serena sits on the side of the bed, feet already on the expensive tiles. It would be so easy to run. She could leave right now and let the consequences fall on someone else's shoulders.
Georgina stands above her, shoots down her drink and empties her hands. She stands close enough that their knees touch.
"I should leave," Serena says, voice distant, her mind already somewhere far away.
Pete rolls his eyes, falling back into the bed with a groan.
He really doesn't want to hear about her high school theatrics. Sleeping with the best friend's boyfriend was practically a rite of passage for over-privileged screw ups.
Georgina prefers pragmatic over the dramatic, so she merely raises a brow. "And go where, S?" She grazes the line of Serena's neckline. "You look like a fucking mess. Or a well fucked mess, at least." She smirks at her own joke. "I'd be surprised if mother dearest even let you in."
Serena takes a shuddering breath and her words still jumble together in a drunken panic. "I don't know what to do. What did I do, Georgie?"
"Banged baby Van der Bilt at a bar," Georgina sing-songs gleefully, rather enjoying the alliteration. She knows anyone who didn't see that one coming is an idiot (which probably only left Nate).
Once Gossip Girl got the details—most likely be the next time she got bored—Blair would be devastated. She really can't wait for the show. "Bold move, baby. Blair's going to be out for blood." She tilts her head, a darkly humorous look coming over her face. "Was it worth it? Virgins aren't half as fun as people make out."
"Don't," Serena warns. She knows that tone. "Don't mess with me. No mind games tonight." She can barely keep up with Georgina's games on a good night. And tonight is not one of those.
Georgina shrugs. "No mind games," she agrees. She dips her finger in the tiny baggie on the bedside table and touches her powder covered finger to Serena's bottom lip. "No thinking at all," she purrs.
Serena's lips part automatically. Georgina's triumph is almost visible as she lets the coke dissolve under Serena's tongue. She loves this—Serena so trusting under her fingers.
No one should trust Georgina like that.
(Serena's the only one who will never learn this.
Georgina can't bear to teach her.)
She withdraws her finger and replaces it with her mouth. Serena tastes like alcohol, bitter cocaine, and someone else's kisses. It's all familiar and all Serena and she doesn't think she'll ever get enough.
Serena breaks away with a small gasp. "Don't." She means it. She does. It just sounds weak and flimsy because her body stops hurting and her mind stops racing so suddenly it's hard to believe.
"Why not?" Georgina's still amused, but it's fading fast.
Serena's lips curve into something sad. "Because I'm already a fucking mess. A well fucked mess. Or so I've been told." It's said light and cool, like the words don't weigh on her soul.
Georgina laughs, a softer sound than she usually makes. An honest one. "You're just Serena."
"And I like messes," Pete adds. There's an emotion in those words that neither girl notices.
Georgina just kisses her, pushes her shoulder till she's pressed into the bed again. Pete curls into her, one leg sliding between hers as he turns her face. His kisses are different. His mouth opens against hers more, his tongue slides over hers faster.
Georgina drags her fingernails in sharp lines over the blonde's inner thighs.
Serena's mind goes numb. There's no Blair, no Nate, no burning disgust reminding her of what she's done.
Her arms twine around Pete's neck, clutching him desperately to her chest where his mouth is wrapped around one nipple even through her dress.
If he never stops touching her, maybe she'll forget what she's become.
Georgina slithers out of her clothes, watching Pete groping Serena's breast, fingers plucking one nipple till Serena cried out. She pushes him out of the way to slide Serena's slip over her head.
She wasn't planning on this, she really didn't want her face in camera, but she's always hated the way Serena smiled at Nate. So brilliant and soft, like he was someone special, and not just another brainless trust fund kid who would have ended up flipping burgers if not for winning the genetic lottery.
Her lips fix on Serena's possessively, as if she could lick the last the taste of Nate from her mouth.
They don't really do this. Not a lot, anyway. It's usually about games, and teasing, gently cajoling each other into some guys arms.
Serena pulls back to look at her questioningly.
Georgina just shakes her head, moving away. "On your knees, S."
Serena frowns petulantly.
(She likes to pretend she's not the girl who can screw over her best friend, and screw her second best friend an hour later.)
Georgina glances at Pete, his lean body pressed against the headboard as he fists himself.
Pete grins, and in a movement quicker than words he flips Serena. She makes a yelping sound, giggling as Pete's arm winds under her lower stomach and lifts her onto her knees flush against his body. Her back arches at the feel of his cock pressed hard against her ass.
Georgina smiles tightly. She's always liked Pete. He handles direction well.
Georgina cups her face, watches closely as Pete fills her almost painfully. She wanted to make more carelessly cruel remarks. She wanted to ask how Nate fucked and if he even made her come, but Serena stares up at her, vulnerable and tense, and all she can do is kiss her better.
Serena lets Pete fuck away the last of her guilt, lets his practised fingers sink into the bruises Nate already made, lets her better half (the half that belongs to Blair) die on the taste Georgina's body.
Georgina holds her when she comes, her eyes wide and gentle like Serena's never seen them before.
She falls asleep between her newest mistake with Nate's innocence between her thighs, and the first crack in Blair's heart on her conscience.
Serena Van der Woodsen will never be a better girl.
}{
