Don't Give Away the End
A/N: I love NS very much, but I don't think about them every second of every day. I have other interests. Consequently, whenever I'm talking NS with anyone, we inevitably veer off to some other subject. And since our minds are already versed in TV-land, we usually end up talking about other shows or movies, and the inevitable response to those topics is: "Awwww. Nate and Serena would love that. They'd be so cute watching it!" So, this fic is a series of oneshots tied together by the fact that each of them will feature Nate and Serena watching something together. They'll obviously make more sense if you've watched whatever NS are watching. Mostly fluff. Chuck, Blair, and Eric will inevitably make appearances from time to time because I can't resist them, especially not Eric.
Disclaimer: If I owned NS they would dominate the show the way CB currently do. Unfortunately, I don't, so none of it's mine. Chances are I'll always reference and/or directly quote from whatever tv show or movie NS are watching in each oneshot. None of that is mine, either. And now, without further ado: enjoy!
1. how i met your mother
Serena giggles delightedly from where she's curled up on the couch, watching Nate, who's in her penthouse's kitchen getting snacks and beer. "Oh my god, Natie," she says giddily, "do you even know how awesome we are?"
He winks at her across the room. "Oh, we're awesome. We're so awesome at being awesome that sometimes we forget to be awesome and we're just awesome anyway, because that's the way we rock awesomeness."
"Word," she agrees laughingly, choosing to blame the heat she can feel in her cheeks on her general happiness. She is so in love with the way he looks at her sometimes. "Oh!" she adds brightly, sitting up on her knees on the couch cushions, resting her weight back on her heels. "You know what else we are?"
Nate grins at her as he sets two bottles of beer and two bowls of some crazy chips that claim to be made from vegetables on the table in front of the couch. He knows that it probably cost a ridiculous amount of money, and that he should probably use coasters and get some napkins, but Serena doesn't care about that stuff. She's just beaming at him with those bright blue eyes, looking every bit as eager and adorable as she did when they were little kids. "I think I might," he tells her, "but maybe you should just say whatever it is."
"Okay," she says, asking him with her eyes if he's ready. He laughs and she gives in, saying, "Awe…" She pauses, lips pursed, holding a finger up in the air as she makes eye contact with him that's a little more smouldering than it should be. "Wait for it," she means to tease, but it comes out a breathy whisper, Nate leaning closer to her. "Wait for it…" She has to catch her breath before she can finally conclude: "…some!"
"Oh!" They both cry enthusiastically as if it's the best thing she's ever said. They always get like this before the show: hyper moods to disguise the nervous excitement they both feel. They've never really dated. This is as close as they get, and they hold on to stolen moments like treasures excavated from a relationship that never truly got a chance. They never, ever talk about it, because that would ruin how it is for them. Nate and Serena is a relationship that happens. It's never discussed.
"Slow motion high five?" Nate asks, blue orbs sparkling, energy (chemistry, really) crackling between them.
"Oh yeah," she agrees readily, sitting up even more to hit her palm against his. Their fingers link in the air and stay that way as he collapses onto the couch at her side.
"You realize that's the eighth time you guys have said awesome in the past two minutes," Eric interjects from his seat on the other side of Serena.
Serena flashes him a quick smile and hands him a bowl of veggie chips. "Because how i met your mother is awesome, baby brah," she tells him, pronouncing bro the allegedly cool way.
"Barney Stinson," Nate contributes agreeably, "is awesome."
"That's ten," Eric sighs, digging into his chips and resolving to ignore them for the duration of the show. Serena's never been very good at defining her own relationships, but he can't help but find it funny – almost cute – the way she and Nate use this shared obsession of some comedy show as an excuse to get lost in each other for half an hour each week. His eyes widen as he glances back over at them, stopping his jaw from dropping just in time so that he doesn't reveal the mess of half-chewed chips in his mouth. "…what are you guys wearing? And if your answer involves the word awesome, I don't need to hear it."
"Eric," Serena sighs, gesturing to her white blouse, unbuttoned to a point that can be considered scandalous depending on how she moves, a blue-and-white striped tie hanging overtop. "We suited up."
"Oh dear God," he sighs as well as Nate brushes off the lapels of his black blazer, winking at the younger boy across the couch.
"Eric doesn't think we're awesome," Serena stage-whispers to Nate, her lips brushing the shell of his ear in a way that feels surprisingly intimate.
"Okay, that's it, I'm done." He gets up, laughing under his breath. "And I'm taking the chips."
"Eric –" Serena begins seriously. She didn't mean to make her little brother feel left out.
He waves away her apologies and playful pleas before they can even begin. "It's okay. You guys hang out. TiVo it, I'll watch in the morning. I'm going to call Jonathon."
Serena's lips curve up into a pretty, grateful smile with a little bit of mischief mixed in as she lifts a hand into the air for a high five and says suggestively, "Yeah, you are." At his sceptical look she laughs and drops her hand, winking at him. "Sorry."
"No problem," Eric says easily as he walks off, laughing to himself. He's willing to bet that thirty seconds from now they'll have forgotten all about him. "Have an awesome time!" he yells over his shoulder.
"Ready?" Nate asks Serena, looping an arm casually around her shoulders.
"I suited up, didn't I?" she laughs. The show begins and they shhhh! each other playfully for so long that they miss the first few words. The beginning promises a typically hilarious episode, and they're both laughing by the time the theme song comes on, and Serena sings along to the ba ba ba pa pa! enthusiastically while Nate rolls his eyes teasingly in her direction. They ignore the commercials entirely as they try to remember what the rules were for the drinking game they invented to play with this show, but in the end they give up as the characters reappear on the screen and Serena challenges Nate to chug his whole beer the first time Barney says legendary, which is only seconds later.
It's such a carefully choreographed dance that they do, with their jokes and the friendly way they touch each other, the beer and the chips, the outfits, the perfectly casual air of it all. They're just hanging out. They're been friends since they were so young; there's nothing in the rulebook that says they're not allowed to do this.
But they're Nate and Serena, and they have so rarely done anything by the rules when it comes to one another.
In the second set of commercials they argue about plot points. They've given up on their beer and snacks and their real-world boundaries; Serena's practically sitting in Nate's lap, her face close to his.
"I'm right," she insists, with that petulant quality of hers that goes back as far as he can remember, but there's something else in his voice, sultry and sweet that he hears on rare, precious occasions, like it's been reserved just for him. The way she says those two words make him want to give in to her, and he stops thinking, his lips just barely brushing hers, but then she pulls back so quickly that he finds himself confronted with reality again.
Nate smirks sheepishly under her knowing gaze, nuzzling his nose against hers light-heartedly to ease the sudden onslaught of tension. "I'm right," he replies just as stubbornly.
"Tell ya what," Serena says easily, her body sinking even closer to his. "Let's do it. Slap bet."
Nate's eyes widen. "Slap bet? You're not serious."
"Dead serious, Nathaniel," she replies, a dare visible in the way her eyebrows arch and her eyes widen.
"Serena, I would never slap you," he tells her simply. "Even if I won."
"That's sweet, Natie. But it's okay, because you won't be winning."
"What are the conditions?" he asks, relenting.
"Just one slap," she says sweetly, licking her lips. "Loser gets it. Very simple."
"Oh-kay," he sighs begrudgingly. "Slap bet."
Serena holds out her pinkie solemnly and he locks his through hers just as sombrely before they kiss their thumbs. It's a done deal.
Nate sighs regretfully as they settle back to watch the show. Serena's body is warm against his; he can feel her curves and the steady beat of her heart. "Are you gonna bitch-slap me?" he asks, already resigned to the outcome of their bet, the idea of which they got from the show they're watching. "Because people kind of love this face, you know."
Rolling her eyes, she pushes his face away from hers lightly. Her finger slips into his mouth and she glares at him when he bites down. Her eyes are sparkling. "Who said anything about where the slap was given?"
He shakes his head in feigned amazement of her evil mind. "You're playing dirty."
She laughs good-naturedly, taking a deep breath. Nate smells so good. She loves boys in suits, especially Nate, when the scent of him mixes with hints of cologne. She can't get close enough to him when he's all dressed up; he seems even more irresistible than usual. Her eyelashes flutter and she runs her tongue lightly over her lips again before she asks him, "Aw, Natie, when have I ever done things any other way?"
For all the time they spend gushing over their show and its general awesomeness, they're completely forgetting to pay any attention to the on-screen happenings at all. Nate can't look away from her. He loves it when she calls him Natie, and he loves it even more when she does it while she's got that bad-girl glimmer in her eyes. Serena lets the moment linger before she buries her face against the warm skin of his neck, inhaling that intoxicating scent of him. She feels so overwhelmingly content that she's sleepy. She closes her eyes as she feels his arms wrap tighter around her.
"Let me know if I win," she murmurs.
"I could lie," Nate says into her hair, and she laughs lightly.
"You're too awesome for that," she teases lazily. "Besides…I trust you."
It turns out that Nate's prediction is actually the correct one, so he teases her for five minutes straight while doing his best impression of one of the characters, while she pouts at him with those bedroom eyes.
"Okay," she finally sighs, because Serena is not a sore loser. She sits up and stretches her arms over her head. "You win. Let me have my slap."
Nate laughs. "Serena, I'm not going to slap you."
"Hey, no! We made a bet. You won. We both agreed. Slap bet."
"No way," he says firmly, even as she scrambles to her feet.
"It doesn't have to be on my face," she assures him easily, striking a pose and mocking him: "Because people…they kinda love this face. Y'know?"
He scoffs at her antics. "I'm not slapping you."
"Wrists," she offers, extending her arms. When he still doesn't make a move, her eyebrows fly up. "Okay, what body part did you have in mind, then?" she asks softly, even though her tone exudes a sexy sort of confidence.
Nate studies her carefully, wondering how far this can go before they start falling into dangerous territory. Serena's always up for an adventure and he's always up for…well, Serena…but they have their carefully crafted friendship, and it would break him to lose her. They have each other in selective, secretive ways; nothing more, nothing less.
But tonight he can't help but want to err on the more side of things.
"I won," he murmurs. "So I guess I get to pick what I do to you, right?"
Her lips curve into a smirk at the way he phrases his words, but there is no hesitance in her eyes. "I guess you could say that, Natie."
He reaches toward her, grasping her wrists, and she doesn't even flinch for a millisecond because she knows just as well as he does that he could never hurt her, not even playfully. When she's close enough, he tugs on her loosened tie instead, pulling her body toward his. His other hand lands on her waist as she straddles him comfortably, something new beginning to flicker in her eyes.
"Nate," she breathes, "What –"
Before she can say another word he lets go of her tie and cups her face in her hand instead, pulling her into a kiss. It's languorous and sweet and Serena sinks into it with a contented little sound at the back of her throat, arms slipping around his neck immediately, forcing their bodies close, her hips pressing into his. He tastes as good as he smells and he kisses her hungrily, but gently. For once, they're letting themselves take some time – not enough to think, exactly, but enough to appreciate each other.
When they pull apart they rest their foreheads against each other's as they inhale. Serena keeps her eyes closed for a moment and when her eyelashes finally flutter and her blue orbs are exposed, Nate knows for a fact that he'll never forget the look of her in that moment, cheeks flushed and hazy, halfway-to-dreamland eyes dancing perfectly. She is fully there in that moment with him, all his, and everything he could ask for.
They can't bring themselves to pull away from each other because they fit against one another so perfectly and everything feels so good, so they cling to each other even as they remind themselves that this isn't going to go anywhere further than that one kiss. Nate smoothes Serena's messy, wavy hair out of her face and she grasps onto the lapels of his blazer as if holding onto him will help her steady herself, which is true on more than one level of their relationship.
Unable to resist, she presses her lips to his one more time but pulls back after only a few seconds. "That wasn't a slap," she whispers, still hanging onto him for dear life. She intends to berate him but it comes out sounding more like praise instead.
Nate knew what she wanted to say, and he's well-aware of how it ended up sounding, and he can't prevent his boyish grin. "No," he agrees, kissing her cheek adoringly before he glances down at her hands on his lapels. "But I think Barney Stinson would agree that this is a very good usage of suiting up."
A/N: If you loved it, hated it, or had thoughts somewhere in the middle, I'd love it if you let me know what they were! Reviews are wonderful things. Feel free to make tv show/movie requests. I can't promise I'll fulfill them, but it's worth a shot. :)