Dysfunction Never Looked So Good
Summary: A CB one-shot, which takes place in November 2008, long after the season finale. Chuck and Blair have already reconciled and are tentatively dating. Blair realizes several things about their relationship and tries to take some action.
Author's Note: I'm tired of thinking of all the possible angst that will probably be heading Chuck and Blair's way next season, so I decided to fast-forward to happy times. Enjoy (hopefully)!
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BLAIR and Serena were sitting in their favorite corner of Gilt, sipping Cosmos, while Blair regaled her best friend with all the gory details of her latest outing with Chuck. She never called them 'dates,' because she hated the way that word made her feel.
"…And then he took me to L'Absinthe and, I swear, they have the best papillote. We were already running late for The Haunting of Molly Hartley, so I got mad at him for wasting time and ordering dessert when I didn't even want any. But then I ate it anyway, because it was so good. And it didn't even matter that we were late, because we didn't watch the movie, anyway. I don't even know why we go to the movies—we should just wait for the DVDs, so we can watch them in his suite and press pause whenever we need to…"
Serena nodded along when she was supposed to, but her mind kept drifting elsewhere. It's not that she didn't care—she was thrilled for Blair and Chuck, really. It was just that she and Dan hadn't patched things up quite yet, and that made it a little hard to have to hear about all the greatness that was her best friend's new relationship. She didn't want to be petty or rude, though, so she took extra care to look enthusiastic.
"…So we went back to his suite after, since I know you wouldn't want us invading the sacred Van der Bass space. Can you imagine how awkward that would be? And, I have to tell you, the sex was just—"
Now Serena just had to interrupt. "Please, Blair!" She cried, putting her hands over her ears. "No talking about the sex. You promised."
"Are you jealous?" Blair teased lightly, and Serena laughed in response.
"I know," Blair sighed. "I keep talking about him and boring you to death, I'm sorry. I'll stop, I swear. It's just…Even when we're fighting and I want to kill him—which is pretty much all the time—he still makes me so happy. That's weird, right? It can't be healthy."
"Oh. My. God." Serena covered her mouth in surprise, staring at Blair as if she had just eaten a bug.
"What?" Blair asked, pretending to be offended. "Too much dysfunction for you to handle? Or are you just too busy thinking about all the amazing sex I'm having?"
Serena shook her head furiously before bursting out with, "You love Chuck!"
Blair was immediately taken aback and scoffed, "What? No way! We're just having fun."
This time, Serena shook her head more slowly and clucked sympathetically. Blair wanted to strangle her a little bit. "I'm sorry, B, but I'm pretty sure you love him."
"…Oh, my God!" Blair breathed in a horrified whisper, feeling her blood run cold.
"This is so great!" Serena clapped her hands excitedly and practically jumped up and down in her seat. "I'm so happy for you!"
"Oh…My God," Blair repeated for emphasis, her thoughts racing with the confirmation of all Serena's assertions. "I'm in love with Chuck Bass." She thought about how those words sounded out loud, imagining all the things they implied. After a moment, she concluded, "I think I'm going to be sick."
THE next night, Blair shifted uncomfortably in her seat across from Chuck, picking randomly at her salad with her fork, not bothering to put any of it in her mouth. She had no idea why she felt so nervous. What was wrong with her? This was Chuck, for goodness' sake! She always knew exactly how to act around him—it was one of the things she loved best about being with him. Merely thinking that word (ugh, love) in relation to him sent a shiver down her spine, and she set her fork down with a barely perceptible sigh.
Now that she was in love with Chuck Bass and had been brutally made aware of that dreadful fact, she had no idea what she was supposed to do. She had only ever been in love once (that had been love, right?), and Chuck was certainly no Nate—he was pretty much the opposite of her oblivious ex-boyfriend, actually. He would probably notice eventually. After all, she assumed the love was radiating off her in waves or something. Maybe he could smell it, like one might smell fear.
Should she just tell him right away and get it over with? Yeah, if you want to send him running into the open arms of some long-legged, blonde bimbo, the cynical voice in her head warned her. Words were way too much at this point. She would just have to make it clear with her actions, by being the best sort-of-girlfriend ever. And she'd had years of practice with that.
Chuck furrowed his brows as he observed Blair playing with her nearly full plate of food. The sight made him feel a little queasy, and he longed to say something to make her feel beautiful or thin or whatever. But, to tell the truth, he was a little lost—this sort of thing had always been Nate and Serena's business, while he had just been a silent observer of the lonely grapes popping single-file into a barely open mouth.
Working up his courage, he finally settled for a simple, "You don't like your food?"
"What? Oh, it's great!" She replied a little too cheerily, shaken from her reverie and realizing she had to start being the perfect girlfriend now, not two weeks from now.
He eyed her warily for a split second before pushing his own plate over to her side of the table. "Do you want to try some of mine? I know how much you like foie gras."
Her smile widened. "Oh, don't worry about me, sweetie. I'm just really not very hungry."
Chuck blanched at the term of endearment. Blair never called him anything even remotely close to a pet name. The closest they had ever gotten was "asshole," or sometimes he'd be lucky enough to receive a "self-absorbed jackass." What was going on? And why was she talking as if she were five years old?
A few seconds of silence passed between them, and then Blair spoke up again. "That shirt looks wonderful on you. It really brings out your eyes."
He couldn't contain himself and let out a bark of laughter, which seemed to offend her slightly. "Blair, what is up with you today?" He stared at her intently, trying to decipher her thoughts. "Did you lose the scarf I gave you or something? Just tell me, I can get another one."
"Ugh, what is your problem?" She shot back, immediately dropping the baby voice and donning her real one once more. How could she have forgotten the scarf? She had to be wearing it when she told him—how else would it be special?
"Can't we just be nice to each other for five seconds without fighting?" She crossed her arms grumpily over her chest. "I mean, that's how normal couples are supposed to work, isn't it?"
"No, Blair." He tugged one of her hands out from its defensive position and held it tightly, pausing to grin seductively at her before continuing, "You act like a bitch, and I get turned on. That's how we are 'supposed' to work."
She couldn't help but smile as she looked down at her food, feeling silly for having even tried to change anything in the first place. They were kind of perfect as they were, as messed up as that was. "Okay, I give. Can we just get out of here and go back to your place?"
"I thought you'd never ask."
ONE week later, Blair pushed Chuck angrily into his suite as he tried his best to fend off her blows.
"You can't keep it in your pants for just one second, can you? You sick pervert!"
Chuck grabbed hold of her tiny wrists to effectively stop the beatings. "Blair, calm down. I didn't even do anything. You're acting like a freak for no reason."
Blair huffed and puffed, but could not blow the house down. "I turn my back for one second, and you're already flirting with some slutty blonde girl. What am I supposed to take from that?"
Chuck rolled his eyes, refusing to let go of her wrists despite her frantic attempts to escape. "I was not flirting with her, I was merely passing the time until you came to meet me." Enunciating very slowly, as if Blair were a small child in need of instruction, he said, "I was having what we civilized people call a 'conversation.'"
"Chuck, you are either retarded or the biggest liar I've ever met." Blair's eyes flashed warningly, but he felt pretty safe for now. He was stronger than her as long as she had no sharp objects within her reach. "She was coming on to you like the hooker she probably is, and you were enjoying it."
"Oh, please." His voice dripped with a forced disdain. He actually really loved when she got like this, because it validated all the times he himself had flown into a jealous rage for absolutely no reason. "It's not my fault if girls think I want to have sex with them when I don't."
"Um, yes, it is," she replied matter-of-factly. "It is your fault, because you always give them that look." Off his confused expression, she continued with exasperation, "Don't play dumb! You know, that 'come have sex with me' look!"
At this, Chuck let go of her hands, putting up his own in surrender. "You caught me. But in my defense, I look at everyone that way. I can't help it—it's what my face looks like naturally."
Infuriated by his nonchalance, she slapped him as hard as she could. "You bastard," she seethed, and his growing smile proved that even the slap was nothing more than a bit of foreplay for him. "I can't believe I ever thought I could be in love with a pig like you!" She cried in frustration.
Chuck's face visibly fell at these words. His eyes widened, and Blair had to physically stop herself from covering her face from the shock. They each took a step back, reeling from the possibilities.
Chuck opened his mouth to reply, but found he had nothing to say. What in the world was the correct response? Oh, wait. I know what it is…
She was furious with herself for spilling her secret at such an inappropriate moment. But she was even more furious at Chuck for making her care despite all his mistakes, yet not seeming to really care himself. Without another word, she angrily stormed out of the suite and slammed the door behind her as noisily as was humanly possible.
Chuck stared at the place where she had been standing for minutes after she had walked out, completely and utterly dumbstruck. Shit. Now he was going to have some serious making up to do.
EARLY the next morning, Chuck grabbed Blair on her way to Physics class and dragged her into the nearest girls' bathroom. After kicking out the two or three straggling girls who were attempting to apply foundation over their hickeys, he proceeded to lock the door behind them.
"Chuck, I'm late, and I don't have time to deal—" Blair couldn't even finish her sentence before Chuck lips were on hers, kissing her passionately and quite forcefully.
He lifted her up onto the sink counter without breaking the contact of his lips. When he started kissing her neck, she did not take the opportunity to complain about how dirty this all was, but gasped appreciatively instead.
"Listen, Blair," Chuck began once he felt Blair had been responsive enough to start talking with reasonable calm. "I can't help the way I look at girls." He felt her instinctively move to get away, and pinned her to the counter as best he could. "But you have to know I'm never thinking about any of them. I don't want anyone but you." Taking a deep breath, he finished with, "I haven't been with anyone since you."
Blair raised an eyebrow, clearly liking where this conversation was headed. "Not even that whole summer after you ditched me in Tuscany?"
He chuckled a little bit at this swipe before replying, "Not even then."
Her arms around him, tugging at his shirt collar, were a sign of forgiveness. He let her down from the countertop and she began kissing him feverishly once again. As much as he wanted to just keep it going all morning long, there was something he knew he needed to do first.
Pulling away for a moment, he looked searchingly into her eyes and summoned all his willpower to just say those three stupid words. "And, just so you know…"
Blair waited patiently for him to finish.
He took a deep breath. "I…" And the words stuck in his throat. What the hell was wrong with him? He was going to screw up what was possibly the most important moment ever, just because he couldn't formulate a few syllables? He already knew he felt it, or at least felt something dangerously close to it (and how would he know the difference, anyway?). Hell, he had even told Nathaniel he felt it. So what was so hard about telling Blair, the only one who needed to hear it in the first place?
It was almost as if he thought she would just laugh, or look at him pityingly, or even leave. All of which he knew wouldn't happen, because she felt the same way, too. And still, it seemed impossible to just let it out.
"Blair, I want you to know that I—"
But this time, Blair stopped the words that were failing to come out of his mouth with a soft kiss. "I think I do know, Bass." She bit his bottom lip teasingly, and he relaxed into another kiss. "You don't have to say it until you're ready."
At this, he smirked. "Actions speak louder than words, right?"
Blair definitely did not attend Physics class that day.