Blair doesn't know where she is at first. The room is dark and for a second she thinks she's in her bedroom at home, but then someone next to her moves a little and an arm throws itself over her hip and pulls her closer.
Fuck.
How did this happen again.
The previous night is a blur of alcohol, and at some point she Chuck told her he was going to head to the lounge upstairs to do some business, and Blair had been left alone at the bar with an open tab, drinking one gin and tonic after another.
Maybe not the best idea.
She kind of remembers Dan sliding next to her, leaning on the bar, looking at her with his dark eyes and his damn palpable pain that never fails to convict her, always asking her without words if it was really worth it. He asks the same question every time he sees her, the question she can never really answer.
The only thing she can remember distinctly is that she was smoldering, looking at him with his hooded eyes and a sly half smile, alcohol buzzing through her veins. If she had been sober she would have tried to do the right thing and walked away, told him, and herself, it was over for the millionth time. After all, she had made her choice.
Instead she just smolders, staring at his lips as they form word after word and Blair can't find a way to tell him that, as usual, he is talking too much, and he tells her that he's drunk as well, ending with a sloppy grin and a declaration that she is indeed a bitch who broke his heart but she is also beautiful and he really wants to fuck her, and he's not sure how to live with this contradiction. Blair has no answers for him.
They are cheaters.
Blair smiles at his words and coyly asks what's stopping him from fucking her, and she's always surprised at how wanton and slutty a little alcohol makes her. Dan leans in close, smelling like whiskey, his mouth inches from hers and she feels all liquidy and warm, melting at her core. Blair barely manages to push him away because what she really wants to do is kiss him, to create a public spectacle that will have all of the Upper Eastside talking. Instead she laughs, tells him that people will talk. Dan answers that he doesn't give a fuck if they talk, that he has nothing left anyway and the pain is there again and all Blair wants to do is kiss him until it goes away.
She's never told him she's sorry.
There's not time for apologies or niceties. They end up in the back hallway and Blair is gasping, devouring his mouth, her hands fisted in his hair, not able to get enough. She doesn't stop to remember that Dan isn't the love of her life, not the one she chose, because all she can think is how fast she can unzip his pants and plunge her hand in, grabbing him and making him groan in that way that makes desire slowly crawl up her spine.
It's just sex, and maybe she loved him at some point in the past, but now she just loves the way he makes her feel, the way he slams her against the cold cinderblock wall and pushes her skirt up, his hand going between her legs in a determined manner and Blair bites her lip because she knows if she doesn't she's going to scream.
"You're fucking wet." he whispers and she starts to burn, slow and hot, writhing against his touch.
"Good lord, Humphrey," Blair gasps into the crook of his neck, her nostrils filled with the smell of his sweat and something spicy and she likes it.
It's the elevator all over again, but illicit and smutty and a little like eating cake for breakfast or sneaking liquor from your parents cabinet when you're sixteen. Blair's skin is feverish and crawling and she licks her lips, then he's kissing her again, crushing, desperate.
"I loved you." he murmurs against her lips then kisses her again, and Blair knows she should say something, like 'sorry' or 'yeah, maybe I should have actually told you in person', but all she can do is nip at Dan's lower lip. She knows he loved her but she doesn't need love at the moment. She needs his hands and his lips and everything else. Now.
"Condom," Blair hisses, wanting Dan to hurry up. He pins her to the wall with his chest and gropes around in his pockets, and Blair bites at his shoulder, begging him to hurry. He's clumsy and it makes her laugh a little.
"Humphrey, this is decidely un-sexy," she mumbles, referring to his juvenile fumbling, like it's his first time instead of maybe the twentieth or thirtieth. It's not like they've never done this before.
"Oh, no it's not." Dan groans as he finally finds it and rips the wrapper off. "It's most definitely sexy. You are most definitely sexy."
He's right. It's furtive back hallway dirty sex, and she wants him to fuck her now, so Blair growls this into his ear.
He obliges Blair's demand. Her legs wrap around his slim waist, his dick slides into her, hips thrusting hard, Blair's back moving up and down against the rough wall and she's pretty sure she's going to have marks she'll need to explain later. She doesn't care because all she wants is to come, and to come hard.
Her hand comes up to her mouth just as she's about to unravel and she bites into it, hard, to keep from yelling out his name and the pain makes everything feel just that much sharper.
Dan is panting, his head dropped onto her shoulder, her name a whisper on his lips, and they are still, Blair against the wall, her legs around his waist, his pants around his ankles.
"So good."
She's not sure if she says the words or if he does.
They teeter back to the party, keeping their distance, pretending they don't know each other, and Dan disappears, heading toward the bar, Blair's eyes following him as he gets lost in the crowd. Chuck is there, asking her where she's been and Blair hopes her lipstick isn't too smudged. She tells him the bathroom, lady stuff, a girl has to have her secrets, and Chuck smiles and kisses her on the cheek and Blair feels like she reeks of sex and Dan. She blushes, feeling hot and itchy and all she can think of his Dan's lips tracing their way along her clavicle.
Chuck tells her that she's drunk and Blair giggles and tells him that he's right, leaning against him for balance as the room sways around her. He tells her he has more business and it's time for her to go home, and Blair agrees, thinking this party isn't going to get better than fucking Dan in the back hallway, so she lets him walk her to the sidewalk and help her into a cab.
"I love you," Chuck says.
"I know," Blair answers. She's sees a shadow pass over his face for a moment, then he smiles at her and it's gone. Sometimes when he looks at her there is this pain that Blair thinks she can see if she watches him long enough. Chuck knows but they never talk about it. They just go on with their lives, go on pretending they're meant to be.
The door to the cab opens again and Blair looks up, ready to tell Chuck that she's really okay, that she'll see him in the morning, but it's not Chuck and she feels electricity zap through her body as Dan slides into the seat next to her.
"Brooklyn," he grunts at the driver.
"Brooklyn isn't near where I'm going, Humphrey," Blair says, trying to sound annoyed, unable to keep herself from smiling.
"Brooklyn is exactly where you're going." Dan answers, then he leans over and captures her mouth with his and all rational thought flees from Blair's head.
He's right.
How did this happen again?
Her head is pounding as she squints and peers out into the darkness. Dan stirs behind her and Blair again wonders why she can't just stop. It's not her first time waking up in Brooklyn as of late. It's not her first time waking up next to Dan, and maybe it's the Humphrey appeal, but it's like she can't stop herself.
They are cheaters.
If you asked Blair on any given day if she loves Chuck Bass she would answer with her face glowing that he is indeed the love of her life. At least she thinks so, but somehow she keeps waking up with Dan's arm around her waist and his face buried in the back of her neck. Somehow she keeps ending up with her skirt hiked up in cramped bathrooms, in the back of her town car with her knees pushed up, biting her lip, trying not to scream. Somehow these things just keep happening.
"I fucked Serena. When we were still together," Dan whispered to her one time as she was trying to get the buttons on his shirt undone and Blair ignored the sting of betrayal that runs through her with his words because she wants him more than she wants to be angry at him.
"So," she said, pretending she didn't care, undoing one button after another, flicking her fingers across the bare skin of his chest and enjoying the way it made him gasp.
"And I liked it."
His words are supposed to hurt. They find their mark, but Blair ignored the pain. Instead she kissed Dan, hard, then pulled back.
"I fucked Serena once too." she said playfully, challenging him to keep trying to hurt her. His eyes darken with her words and he bit his bottom lip, and Blair smiled as she remembered a day long ago when there was too much champagne and a hot tub and it makes her feel flushed. "And I liked it."
"You drive me insane, Waldorf." Dan growled. Blair smiled broader and bit his nipple, and later Dan will comment on her habit of biting almost all parts of his body, but right now there are no more words to be said.
They are cheaters.
Blair pushes Dan's arm off her and slips out of bed. She is still wobbly from the alcohol and the room spins a little, then she notices that her stomach is flip flopping and she hopes she won't get sick. She won't stay. She never does. Once they had something different, the kind of thing where you stay, where you go out at night and wake up together, but now they just fuck and run and do it all over again the next week. She has to get home, to the love of her life, who won't notice that Blair didn't make it home last night, who won't question when she tells him she crashed in the spare room again. The love of her life who doesn't want to see the obvious, that they are slowly cracking into pieces.
They don't have the kind of thing where you stay anymore.
Dan will be fine waking up alone. He has his anger to keep him warm, the resentment towards her that drives him to fuck her like he's punishing her. What he can't see is that he's punishing himself too. He will pretend that it's all about sex. He'll pretend he doesn't dream about her, doesn't wake up calling her name. He'll pretend his heart isn't broken; that he doesn't love her still.
Blair will call a cab and wait in the cold morning air, watching the sun start to come up over the buildings. She'll tell herself this won't happen again but she knows now it will be a lie she tells herself to make herself feel better. It will happen over and over again.
Chuck will turn a blind eye, happy to have Blair by his side, willing to pretend nothing is wrong.
They will go on in some sort of circular fashion, never ending, never beginning. Never understanding that the people they cheat on the most are really themselves.
fin