When he spots her, she stops and waits for the pedestrian light to turn green, multitudes of cars passing by. There are many others along with her, waiting for the go signal, and yet in the sea of people, she's the one that stands out—it's obvious she doesn't belong here, when others are sporting sweaters and hoodies and she's wearing Marchesa's newest coat from their winter collection (at least that's what his sister said)—and she makes the others seem like a blur.
She would have noticed that he was there, staring at her, except there is another that stands out just as much (and is as equally out-of-place) as she: her companion; who, too, is wearing a winter coat (the latest from Armani! That's not even in America yet! His sister screams in his head). She's on his right, her left arm wound around his right tightly, their gloved fingers intertwined.
When he thought that he was the oblivious one because he could only see the two of them walking hand-by-hand, side-by-side in these streets of Brooklyn, he was wrong. The light had turned green and they walked across first ("we're followed, not followers"), and yet they were still so absorbed with each other, not even bothering to look up front to watch where they were going—they were oblivious to everyone but each other.
Dan watched Chuck and Blair in their animated banter, amused at their ministrations: she was huffing her breath at him whilst he continued to smirk at the brunette. Yet, despite the contradicting looks, he could clearly see the love that shone in each other's eyes. They continued to talk to each other while walking, unknowingly reaching the coffee shop, whose outside seats had a waiting Dan.
"Hey, Blair," Dan greeted before adding, "Chuck," Blair took a seat, still looking at Chuck, who was standing; the two were still absorbed with each other, not acknowledging Dan's presence.
"I still can't find it in me to believe that we actually walked the whole bridge instead of using the limo," Chuck stated. "Especially with this weather and temperature. Negative 10? Really, Blair?"
"Oh, stop being such a baby, Chuck," Blair scoffed. "Speaking of babies, this is really your fault. I find myself eating anything and everything because of our little spawn and as a result I've become a sumo wrestler—I need the exercise. And the cold helps because your body uses up calories to keep you warm."
"Sumo wrestlers wear those diaper-thong things," Chuck started.
"They're actually called mawashi," Dan corrected.
"Shut up, Humphrey," the two Basses snapped. Dan rolled his eyes.
"And while I can vouch that you do wear the second part of what I just said (Dan quickly felt himself redden; Blair, on the other hand, slapped Chuck's arm), I can tell you that sumo wrestlers don't wear size zero winter coats from Ferragamo's (sorry, Jenny, you were wrong, his mind corrects) newest winter collection. Blair, you're not fat; and you are—and always will be—the hottest thing on this entire planet. Or universe. Both. And that's amplified even more, knowing that you're carrying the life we made together—our child." Blair's eyes fluttered when Chuck brought her fingers up and pressed a soft, lingering kiss on each of her fingers. Dan had to look away, feeling like an intruder to the very intimate gesture.
When Chuck pulled away, Blair's eyes twinkled and she sighed happily, "You're such a charmer, Bass," swatting him playfully, biting her lip coquettishly.
"Only with you," he winked. "And in any case, if you wanted to exercise, we could have been doing something far more strenuous and hotter than just plain walking in the damn cold that would have had us sweating the hell out of ourselves, Mrs Bass... Particularly on the way here in the comfort of newly refurbished fine Italian leather seats and Arthur's driving. You know how hot it gets when it gets traffic and people might—"
"And here I was, thinking you were sweet," Blair harrumphed, cutting her husband off, not even having the decency to feel embarrassed about Chuck's straightforward innuendo about doing it in the limo on the way to the coffee shop. Dan was starting to feel uncomfortable after having heard about their sex life twice, shifting his position in his seat to maybe show them that he was starting to feel awkward. "Anyway, I think Dan's starting to feel weird. We should stop." Dan silently praised God. "Let's continue this some other time when we have more audience—particularly Serena and Nate." Dan felt himself almost hurl whereas Chuck and Blair just grinned approvingly and wickedly at each other.
"Anyway," Dan cleared his throat. "Hey, Blair. Thanks for coming. As for you," He looked at Chuck, "Uh, it's nice to see you, but..."
"Even I don't know what I'm doing here, Humphrey," Chuck replied, eyeing his wife, who was putting on some powder. "Care to explain?"
"Well, you're paying for mine and Dan's coffee, obviously." Blair replied cheekily. "Then you can go and wait for me until I give you the signal."
Dan was shocked at Blair's audacity while Chuck merely rolled his eyes and brought out his wallet. Before Chuck could take any bill out—was that a $100? Who the heck spent $100 on two coffees?—Dan hurriedly said, "No, it's okay, Chuck. In fact, I've already bought the drinks." He pointed at the two cups of coffee which were on the seat in front of Chuck. "The one on the right is Blair's."
Chuck picked both up, lifting a brow at both of them. Dan blinked, wondering if he'd done something wrong, but then relaxed when he saw Chuck place the cup in front of Blair. He put the one on his left in front of Dan. "Well, I'll leave you two alone, then. Have fun." He nodded at Dan but then sooched down and whispered things in Blair's ear. The only thing Dan heard was "love you" before Chuck kissed Blair's cheek and entered the limo. Blair stared at the limo until it drove off out of her sight. She sighed.
"Well, you look happy," Dan couldn't help but comment. "And congratulations, by the way. Is it a girl or a boy?"
"That's because I am happy—the happiest I've ever been," Blair sighed dreamily. "We don't know yet but I hope it's a boy. Always waking me up in the middle of the night... In fact, I think it's a boy. He's just like his father."
"Not another innuendo," Dan groaned theatrically. He put a hand over his eyes, as if in complete dread of the whole thought (which he actually was) but he put enough space to pop one eye open and look at her, only to see her laughing whole-heartedly.
"I'm sorry... No, actually, I'm not." she laughed. "I know it's supposed to be just between us, but I love telling people about our love." He took a moment to look at her and was surprised at what he saw: she was glowing. "I'm sorry, though, if it evokes any..."
"No, it's all right." Dan assured. He was happy that she was happier than she could have ever possibly imagined—her glowing was just some evidence at just how happy she was (because she had never glowed like that when she was with him)—except that some part of him was wanted to show her that maybe she could be like that with him, except without the fear of getting hurt. "We've put all that behind us, remember?"
She gave a small smile, sipped a little from her cup, stared at it, and then placed it neatly on the table. "This is newly bought, isn't it?" she asked.
"Yeah," he confirmed. "It's Arabica fifty percent bitter and fifty percent sweet, your favourite. When I got it out of the counter, though, it was scalding hot, so I—"
"Blew it," she completed. "You used to always do that before you gave me coffee in the morning."
"Yeah," he smiled sheepishly, remembering those days. "You might burn your tongue if you drink freshly brewed coffee, especially considering its heat. So I always blew your coffee to lessen the heat."
"Oh, so that's why you used to do it," Blair blinked, nodding at the revelation.
"Why did you think that I did it?" Dan asked defensively.
"I don't know, Dan. Maybe to spice my drink up with your saliva or something?" This caused the both of them to erupt into fits of laughter. "But it was—and is—really thoughtful of you, so thank you."
"Does Chuck blow your coffee for you?" Dan asked.
"No," she smiled. He gave her a nod and then drank from his own cup, which was diluted with a little liquid courage to continue their conversation as to why he invited her over for coffee.
"So why'd you invite me, Dan?" Blair asked inquisitively. There it was.
"Well, I figured that we... Clear things up between us," He worded, hoping that she wouldn't understand what he truly meant.
But she did. "Closure, in other words," she murmured with a chuckle. "Look, I'm sorry to say this: but I'm not sorry about things not working out between us. I'm just sorry, though, that I involved you in my mess. I was a total wreck at that time and I was desperate to be as far away from Chuck as possible because I was scared—"
"You had and have every right to be because of the infinite amount of times he's hurt you," Dan interrupted. "And yet in the end, you still chose him over me. Why'd you do that, Blair?"
"You've always known my feelings for Chuck, Dan," Blair reminded him tersely.
"I still don't get why," he confessed, taking another sip from his cup. His head was starting to get dizzy but he continued. "He's hurt you so many times - the glass, the women... He sold you for a freaking hotel, Blair! In no way is that healthy! We, on the other hand... We respected each other as individuals; we didn't manipulate and scheme and lie to each other, we supported each other in every step of the way... Hell, the fact that I even blow your coffee to make sure your tongue doesn't get burnt is a clear sign that I care about you more than he does—I bet he's never done something as thoughtful as that! Everything about our relationship was healthy, Blair. Maybe you were just too scared to go into a relationship that was actually healthy because you've never had one. But if you leave him now, I swear—"
She crushed his toes with her heels, making him writhe in pain. She twisted her foot left and right to let her heel twist further into his skin; and then she sat properly once more. "There was a bug on your foot that deserved to be stepped on. Oh, wait, no there wasn't; that was just you insulting the love of my life."
"Sorry," he mumbled. "I got carried away."
She looked away, this time with sad eyes. "What is the basis of a relationship, Humphrey?"
"Love," he replied automatically. He looked at her and she looked beyond in her years—not in looks, but in experience.
This time, she looked back at him, "Then how," she breathed slowly, "Could we have ever had a healthy relationship if we never even had a relationship in the first place?"
"We were boyfriend and girlfriend, a couple—" he contested.
"Boyfriend and girlfriend don't exactly mean a relationship—they're just titles," she refuted. "Arranged marriages make couples, but not exactly relationships."
"But I loved you!" he protested adamantly, "And you—" then he put his cup down, realization dawning on him. "You didn't love me." He slumped on his seat at the fact, crushing the cup in his hands, squeezing it tightly.
"That's exactly my point," Blair stated sadly. "The fact is: you loved me. And I loved the attention that you were giving me. But I didn't love you. I liked you as much as I could love a friend; and during that period in my life, I was thinking we could have been friends with benefits while being monogamous—disguising this for being in a relationship—except that we didn't even have the benefits, seeing as how bad we worked together." She kidded, trying to lighten the mood up.
And reality just started to further sink into Dan's head. He smiled bitterly, adding, "Even our anatomies knew, huh," Blair nodded and he sighed. "I still don't get why you went back to him."
She started twirling her coffee cup and he realized that she hadn't taken another sip ever since she asked if it were freshly brewed. "You know my favorite coffee, Dan Humphrey. Arabica fifty, fifty: the blend of sweet and bitter. The bitter gives its boldness, its strength; while the sweet adds flavour."
"It's the perfect blend," Dan quoted. "That's what you told me."
"It is," she smiled before her smile faltered. "And you'd always served it to me warm, afraid that my tongue would get burnt."
"Thoughtfulness," he said, hoping it would add points in his favour. "I was just looking out for you."
"That is thoughtful," Blair agreed. "But it's a ... vain effort, if you think the act makes drinking my coffee more pleasurable. There's a reason why Chuck doesn't blow my coffee. If he knew that I liked it lukewarm, he'd give it to me lukewarm. But the fact is: Chuck knows how I like my coffee. And you know how that is?"
"What?" Dan asked tersely, gulping.
She smirked knowingly, "Freshly brewed and scalding hot to the point of feeling like your mouth and throat are on fire—just like how he likes it."
His jaw dropped. "R-Really?" he stuttered disbelievingly, totally in shock. "But... Why?" All this time, she liked it hot?
"In my opinion, the only good part about lukewarm coffee is that you're assured that your tongue doesn't have any risk of getting burnt because its temperature isn't capable of burning. But other than that… warm coffee can only keep you warm for a few seconds to a minute before you start freezing. As for the flavour, the sweetness and bitterness start to separate, and so instead of tasting just one flavour—bittersweet—you have either sweet or bitter, depending on where you drink. The wonderful aroma you get from a nice, hot cup of coffee dissipates into the air, leaving just the liquid to enjoy. Sure, lukewarm coffee is okay because you can still taste it, it tastes fine, and your tongue doesn't get burnt; but it tastes dull and bland when you've tasted Arabica at its best."
"Now, hot coffee... It's not something that everyone likes because their tongues might get burnt. Let me describe to you, though, how Arabica is at its finest, which is when it's hot: the way the aroma of freshly brewed and hot coffee seeps in your senses, a conducive factor to a wonderful drinking experience; the way the bitter and sweet combine together in heat, to become one indistinguishable taste, which is so flavourful and exquisite; the way the liquid makes its way down your throat, heating everything in its trail—warming, no, heating up your whole body in the process that instead of freezing in this cold you're sweating at the heat, desperate to be cooled—it's electrifyingly and orgasmically delicious, Dan; absolutely nothing can compare." She sighed happily, eyes fluttering. "And if the price I have to pay for that is the risk of my tongue getting burnt, then I'll gladly pay it—because I know that eventually my tongue will get over the burn. Besides, your tongue will only get burnt if you don't know how to handle—or rather, drink—the coffee properly."
After Blair finished, Dan's eyes were just widened. His mind was running all over the place, trying to think of other ways to change her mind and to let her see that she had made the wrong decision, when suddenly it just stopped; and he sighed, happily, in defeat, raising both his hands up. He let out a deep breath, relief filling inside of him because he finally accepted that he'd never be her scalding hot coffee—err, Chuck's replacement—and he felt good. He raised both his arms up in defeat, "Scalding hot coffee it is," he chuckled, before smiling at her and saying, "Thanks, Blair."
"No problem, Dan," she smiled. "I like you as my friend. But actually, you should really thank Chuck."
He blinked—Chuck? What the heck had Chuck done? "Why's that?" he asked.
"Well, he doesn't blow my coffee, (Dan looked away, embarrassed at how he flaunted this to her, thinking it would earn him some points, when all this time she hated warm coffee) but he is thoughtful—extremely, in fact. When you first invited me, I initially didn't want to go because I know how much it hurt Chuck and how much trust and faith I'd lost when I got together with you (he saw her eyes start to tear up and something inside him plummeted). But he knew how important my friendship was with you and so he actually urged me to go, just like how he mended mine and Serena's friendship when he trapped us in the elevator how many years ago." She smiled. "And he's actually the reason why your head isn't ripped off, Humphrey."
"Huh? What'd he do?" Dan asked. He was already shocked that it was Chuck who had urged Blair to go… now he'd done something more?
"You should know better than to anger a pregnant woman, a Waldorf, a Bass, and most especially all three combined because not only would you have had your body chopped into pieces and skin ripped off, but you would have also suffered from all forms of humiliation, most especially a public takedown for everyone to enjoy—most especially Chuck and I," Blair smiled sweetly. Dan shuddered at the fact that: she reveled in this, he was going to be this were it not for Chuck, he actually dated this girl, and the fact that there was yet another (although subtle) innuendo there. He felt like barfing. "But then Chuck warned me that you might have slipped some liquid courage in your drink, therefore warning me about some crazy things that you might say or do."
"So that's why he was eyeing the cups weirdly," Dan said in astonishment. "Yours because he knew you didn't like warm and mine because of the beer… How did he know?"
"Just as how I'm disgusted by warm coffee because I think it's a cheap rip-off for hot coffee," she laughed. "He told me that as a 'connoisseur of everything bad, illegal, and hazardous substances, his nose crinkled in disgust upon smelling the scent of cheap, generic beer—an insult to all the high-class illegal substances'."
Dan slapped a palm to his face and just couldn't help but laugh aloud. The two continued to laugh until the limo suddenly appeared in front of the coffee shop. "Oh, he's here already! That was fast. Bye, Dan. Thanks for the chat; see you around some time."
"Bye, Blair." Dan waved off. Blair gave him a little smile before she walked to the limo's door, which opened, only to reveal a Chuck carrying two cups of coffee. Blair gladly took one, opened the cover, only for steam to come out, revealing the piping heat of the liquid. The two simultaneously drank the scalding liquid from each of their cups as if it weren't any struggle at all; and when they lowered their cups from their mouths, Blair immediately attacked Chuck and kissed him squarely on the mouth with so much force and passion that he fell back inside the limo with Blair on top of him, the door closing and the limo rolling out of Brooklyn and back to where their castle was: in the Upper East Side.
Dan sighed and took a sip from his cup, recalling how Blair described the hot coffee: Flavours become one. Heat. Electrifyingly and orgasmically delicious. His eyes suddenly popped out of their sockets and he spewed his drink out in horror, people around him starting to stare at him. But it didn't matter because it was only then that he noticed that it was as if Blair were describing sex (with Chuck) instead of hot coffee—the kind of sex she and Chuck were probably having in their carriage—err, limo.
He groaned at yet another innuendo; now his image of hot coffee was ruined, because if ever he thought of hot coffee, an image of them getting it on would probably enter his mind. Gross, he told himself. This was why he liked warm coffee.
And so he picked the two cups up—one full and one empty but both warm—threw the cups in the garbage bin, and walked away.
My first Gossip Girl story and my first ever non-anime fic! It was tricky writing this because anime (the east) is more, how do I put this... conservative. In anime fics, kissing is already a big hype so imagine what I felt when I read my first GG fic, which involved the mention of sex in the first chapter—I was so embarrassed, haha.
It's funny how this started because I was supposed to write a DB fic but then it ended up becoming... this. In any case, I hope this didn't turn out so bad. I don't watch the show (I've only watched random episodes from seasons three (3x17 and 3x21 included) and four (4x07 - 4x10, 4x19 - 4x22). The one I'd actually watched 'consistently' was season five but I stopped at 5x15 but then watched 5x20 - 5x22) so I hope that they weren't too OOC.
Reviews would be lovely; I really appreciate feedback.
- a.S.