Disclaimer: I do not own Gossip Girl or any of its characters.
He was seated at the end of the L-shaped bar—the smaller end—when he noticed her. It was the first time in a while that someone had truly captured his attention. Usually he would just sit and drink and watch the rest of New York come and go. Some with lovers (how lucky), some with colleagues (how unfortunate), some with no one (how...he shouldn't judge).
He found this little place last week after work, when he was a little buzzed and wandering up and down the streets. It was freezing out and he was drawn like a moth to a flame. Inside, it wasn't too modern, (like every bar seemed these days), but cozy and warm. Perfect for these frigid nights.
It was tonight that she had walked in. The she that made him zone back into the present and pay attention to something again. He idly took sips of his beer as he watched. Her arm was hooked into someone he didn't want to know anything about, and she instantly brightened the dim bar by three shades. He watched as her impeccably dressed companion took off her coat politely, (but also noticed that she had to turn her back and clear her throat to prompt him to do it.) Her companion's head was held high and mighty as if he owned the bar, (which he knew wasn't the case since the bartender did), and he merely signaled for a drink with the slightest nod of his chin.
She had an emerald silk dress on. He usually hated silk on women; it always looked wrinkled and messy and ordinary. But on her, the silk glided down her body like a waterfall. Wrapped around her as smooth as skin, and, for a brief moment, he wondered what it would be like to take it off of her. He imagined he would simply have to peel back the material and her porcelain skin would be revealed.
Her hair traipsed into curls and swept her shoulders. Ruby lipstick adorned an utterly perfect, absolutely tempting mouth. And when she bit down on her lip as she studied the drink menu—well, Dan surrendered.
She eyed him and his breath hitched. It was obvious he was staring, so he slowly moved his eyes to the bartender/owner and lifted his glass for another drink.
For the next hour, the woman and her partner drank and talked quietly. None of it looked intimate; in fact, she actually looked rather bored. As if trying to save herself from the conversation, she shifted her gaze to him again. Her eyes squinted in curiosity, as she looked him over for a minute, before facing her partner again. And then, before he could even blink, she leaned in and kissed her boyfriend passionately, eyes darting back to him.
She was trying to make him jealous and they hadn't even said a word to each other. They hadn't even known each other for ninety minutes.
A whisper of a mischief was in her eyes, and a smirk on her lips, as she pulled away.
He tugged his collar and slapped some cash on the bar. He needed some air.
Her eyes still followed him as he walked towards the door.
Actually.
He needed to leave.
. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .
He decided to press his luck and return the next night. Chances were she wouldn't show up again—that he'd even think she'd show up again had him blushing in embarrassment.
He sat in the same spot—the end of the L-shaped bar—and took out his notebook. He liked writing words down that came to mind, and this bar made many words come to mind.
(It also helped that the notebook made him look more involved and less lonely.)
He looked around the room, from the canvas paintings to the dining patrons.
Warm. Inviting. Colorful.
He felt a rush of cold air as the door opened.
Shivering. Stunning.
Stun—
His gaze snapped back towards the door and he saw her. He watched as she sauntered over to the bar, sitting perpendicular to him, three seats away. If she noticed him sitting there, she didn't show it.
It was only when she ordered her drink that he heard her voice for the first time.
"Gin Martini, please."
Melodic. Mesmerizing.
The words kept coming, but he didn't write them down.
"Thank you," she said softly, once the drink was placed in front of her. She took a small sip and her shoulders visibly relaxed. She sighed as she craned her neck and rubbed an ache, nonchalantly eyeing him and his notebook for a split second before resuming a normal position.
Dan smiled to himself in amusement.
"Ma'am, can I have a name for the tab?" the bartender asked.
"Blair Waldorf."
Blair.
For the next hour, she checked her email on her phone while he wrote. They each stole the occasional glance, but made no move to speak to each other.
She left after her second martini; he left once he could form a coherent thought again.
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Dan didn't think twice about going to the bar for the third night in a row. He took the same spot as always and breathed a sigh of relief when he saw the seat she usually sat in was empty. The bartender—Steve, was his name—placed a beer in front of him and he took out his notebook.
She waltzed in only fifteen minutes later, looking rosy-cheeked from the cold outside and more beautiful than he remembered. Dan's heart raced in anticipation of what she was wearing, and when she slid off her jacket, she didn't disappoint. She was wearing a caramel colored dress with chocolate tights and brown boots, only bringing out the warm hue of her eyes. He was proud of himself that even though she was showing significantly less skin than the previous two nights, he still found her just as desirable.
Blair smiled at the familiar bartender as she took her seat. She seemed much more at ease tonight and Dan welcomed that. She opened her mouth to speak, but he jumped before her. "Gin martini for the lady, please," he told the bartender.
Blair's mouth snapped shut and she eyed him, intrigued. After a beat, she gave a slight nod in thanks and took a sip once it was placed in front of her.
"Another beer Dan?" the bartender asked, and something clicked in Blair at the realization of his name.
She saw Dan nod, then look down at his notebook and uncap his pen. After taking a sip of his lager, he started working.
She immediately noticed he was not writing, as Blair followed his hand as it stretched from the bottom of the paper to the top. She heard the strides of his pen against the looseleaf change directions and length, moving from short to long marks. He looked up and studied her for a moment, teasing grin on his face, and then began working again.
Oh for heaven's sake.
He was drawing her.
She absent-mindedly brought her tongue out and wet her lips, deciding what to do. She was in the mood to play.
He peered up and caught her action, swallowing hard, and then watched in both fascination and horror as she brought out a small notebook.
His shock dampened when he saw Blair open it to the very first page; it was the first time she had ever used the notebook. In fact, the corners were so intact—the book so untouched—she had to have bought it that day. Meaning only one thing: she had thought about him.
This notion made him sit up a little straighter. The fact that Blair had thought about him made him want her infinitely more.
Screw no talking.
Dan closed his notebook and leaned closer to the bar—closer towards her.
He cleared his throat and opened his mouth—
"Mind if I join you?"
It took all of Dan not to scream, as he watched a gentlemen sit down next to her.
She raised a perfectly arched eyebrow. "Um..."
"Are you seeing somebody?"
"Casually," Blair said hesitantly, a little put-off by his forwardness. "Nothing exclusive."
"Just what I like to hear," the guy said, smiling. (His teeth are too bright, Dan thought.)
She said nothing, and instead took a sip of her martini.
The man tugged at his collar. "Is it hot in here, or is it just you?"
Dan choked on his drink. Oh for fuck's sake.
"You know what? It's time for me to go," she said, slipping out of her chair faster than Dan could lift his jaw. Was this guy for real? He would have felt worse for him had he not wanted Blair so much for himself.
As she put on her coat, Dan scribbled something on a napkin. He handed it to her before she could walk away. -
Are you lost ma'am? Because heaven is a long way from here.
Blair bit her lip to stop her smile. And then she was gone.
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The fourth night, Dan showed up clean-shaven and dressed to the nines; but most importantly: notebook-less.
He strolled in feeling confident and completely convinced she would show up. Right away, he noticed a man sitting in his seat, but after buying his next round of drinks, the seat belonged to him again.
Almost all heads turned to Blair once she entered the bar, with the murmurs of voices and clinking of silverware quieting for a moment. It was the brief silence that made Dan stop conversing with the bartender and acknowledge the reason why he was there for the fourth night in a row.
Not surprisingly, she looked stunning. Her hair was twisted into a loose bun, exposing the planes of her neck and making Dan's blood run warm. She was wearing a generously low-cut shirt that somehow both highlighted her svelte figure and accentuated her curves.
It was the jeans, though, that made Dan's heart stop. Not only could this woman wear an evening gown and look like the most elegant person in the world, but she could pull off casual chic like there was no tomorrow. Just when he thought she couldn't get any better, she showed that she could be both Manhattan and Brooklyn, and look undeniable sexy while doing either.
Blair eyed Dan as she hung her jacket on the back of her chair. The lust in his eyes was evident and she wondered how long it would take before he broke and spoke to her.
Just like the previous night, Dan ordered the bartender to get her a gin martini. As she sipped her drink, she swung shallowly in her chair to the easy jazz that played through the speakers. The martini had unbound her; she was feeling loose and relaxed and a little more than turned on by Dan. He was incredibly good looking, and the more times she looked at him, the more she wanted to rake her hands through his curls.
Dan noticed her empty drink. "Steve, another gin martini please?"
"Actually Steve," Blair turned to Dan. "I'll have a Sex on the Beach." Her eyes never left his.
She reached up and pulled out her hair tie, letting her curls fall wildly and Dan's throat go dry.
"Where's the restroom?" she asked, turning back to the bartender.
"Straight back to your left."
Dan watched her get of the chair and walk around the corner of the bar towards him. He continued holding eye contact with her the entire time, until she was behind him. He let out the breath he was holding once she was out of his view, but sucked it right back in when he felt someone touch his shoulder. He felt her drag a finger from his shoulder, across his back, down his arm, until her hand grasped his.
She didn't even need to tug on his fingers, as he was already out of his seat and following her towards the bathroom.
A very clean bathroom, Blair noted, but didn't care anymore once Dan locked the door and crashed his lips to her mouth. His tongue met hers and she moaned; not only because it felt so goddamn good, but because she had been waiting so goddamn long for him to do it.
Dan backed her into the wall and brought his hands up to cup her face. With each second that went by, the air in the room got thicker with sighs, groans and lust. He reached down and slid her leg over his hip, groaning from the marvelous friction it caused. He knew he wouldn't be able to hold out much longer, and hearing the breathy whimpers of desire from her, he knew she wouldn't be able to either.
He trailed wet kisses down her neck as she unbuttoned his pants and shirt, swiftly running her hands up his hot skin. She felt him hard and ready against her, increasing her constant need to touch and writhe against him. And although her jeans looked amazing on her, and were obviously the most expensive and stylish pair on the market, tonight—now—she wish she'd worn a dress. Or a skirt. Or anything that didn't require time to get her out of.
At last, Dan shimmied her pants down and she gasped as he pushed the flimsy piece of fabric aside. It was the final barrier and once he felt how wet she was from anticipation—from him—he slid into her fast. They each cried out in relief and pleasure; it had been so long since either of them had been looked at this way, touched this way...felt this way.
"Oh," Blair gasped as he continued to thrust into her and intensified the pace, making her eyes roll to the back of her head. "So...good..." He picked her up and she instinctively wrapped her legs around him, locking her ankles and getting as close as possible to him and her peak. Each thrust and second brought her closer, and soon she felt the gratifying build-up rush through her.
"Blair," he breathed as he connected their lips again. It was the first time he had said her name, and it pushed her over the edge. She chanted his name like a prayer over and over and over again as she came, sending him over as well.
They stayed connected as they came down from their high, breathing heavily and completely spent and satisfied. He kissed her soundly once more, before sliding out of her so they could orient themselves again. Once they looked semi-decent, they left the bathroom and walked back to their seats.
The bartender was on the other end of the oak bar, oblivious to their absence. Blair's face was still flushed, and her hair a little messy, but she didn't look at all embarrassed. Steve had since placed her drink at her spot, and so she sipped it with a smirk upon her face. Dan stared at her in wonder, shaking his head at her nonchalance. He tried to mimic her composure; he took a sip of his beer and—now that he was notebook-less—grabbed a pen and napkin. This was definitely something to write about.
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The fifth night, they returned together.
A/N: Thank you so much to Sarabrowncolorado for reading this over to make sure it sounded like English, because I really didn't think it did. ;) But most importantly, for being a constant support, mentor, and friend.
For those waiting for the epilogue of How They Bloom, I promise it's coming.
I would love reviews!