A/N: This is set years in the all too dysfunctional future. If you are a David Sedaris fan, you will recognize the shout-out.
She waits for him. Why, she doesn't know, she just knows if she digs any deeper, she won't come up with a good reason. Comfort, routine, passivity – are not good enough words to justify this Thing.
"Will that be all tonight, Mam?"
She wants to ask just what it is he's implying, and that in no universe should she ever be referred to as 'Mam', but she's not feeling particularly contentious tonight, so instead she just orders another triple vodka on the rocks. She needs it if she's going to make it through the night.
She hears well heeled foot steps and the deep musky scent of Armani. It's all too familiar.
This time, she can't help herself.
"You know, you really need to lose those loafers. They make you look stumpy and announce to the world you vote republican and can no longer get an erection."
"I haven't hear any complaints lately...and uh, need I remind you, you're republican too," he said, slithering up next to her at the bar."Or did you drop that too, along with hyphenate from your name?"
"Fuck off." Only he would have the power to infuriate her in a matter of seconds, she thinks, downing her drink as almost as fast as she ordered it.
"What was his name again? Dickey, was it? Dick something," he said, looking up and stroking a pathetic excuse for a stuble.
She rolls her eyes, "Johnson. For the last time, his name was Johnson."
She knows she's indulging him, but this is their game. This is how it's always been played.
He slides his all-too smooth hands up her respectable skirt, making her jump and burn in anticipation.
This is them.
They stumble to his hotel room, hands and mouths all over each other. And it's like they're seventeen and in the back of that limousine again.
He throws her onto the bed because he senses she wants it rough this time. She sighs as he pulls at her skirt and underwear.
When his mouth is on her, it's rough, hot, and searching. He knows every secret place of her, every inch of skin and sweet spot. She knows she'll come in minutes. After all, she's accepted the shame of her deepest darkest reactions to him long ago.
He fucks her like it's the apocalypse and there's will be no tomorrow, no morning after. Like they're the only two people left on earth. Honestly, there is no one else. Will never be anyone else, no matter who they're with. Everyone else has always been in soft focus she thought, as her chest jutted out from another climax, his mouth hungrily seizing the opportunity. They're the only two in sharp contrast, every gritty flaw and detail indecently in-focus. They see each through to each other unlike anyone else.
Afterward, they lie together, he cradles her with an odd sort of protective tenderness.
"So when's the wedding?"
He looks at her like she's announced she wants to move to a Kentucky and join a commune.
"Don't act like I don't know. Serena told me at lunch the other day," she said, remembering the sickly feeling of disgust, regret and mimosa's.
"Next month."
"Hmmm...well that's not long enough to plan anything worthwhile, what, are you getting married at city hall or something?"
His hand rubbed up against her arm. "She's pregnant, Blair."
She felt her heart beat faster as her world once again went into disarray.
Chuck Bass was having a baby before she was, and it's really just another fact piled on top of other pathetic facts of her life as she knew it. She would laugh if it wasn't so horribly unfair.
She felt the need to retaliate against what would be a wonderful announcement in any other universe except theirs.
"Well, I guess this is the last time."
"Blair."
"No." She attempted to get rise up until his hands pulled her right back down.
"Blair, you know this doesn't have to -"
"Yes it has to," she said, getting up and throwing on her clothes.
He'll call, or they'll meet at a party because they run in the same circles, and they will continue this cycle over and over again.
She doesn't know if he's ever really loved her, or if she's even loved him. She knows this won't be the last time, no matter how much she claims to the contrary. Yet, in the back of her mind, she's worried that it will be the last time.
He calls to her on her way out.
"Blair, you know....you know." He gave her a look of open honesty, which was rare for him.
She gave him a weak smile in return, wondering how long it will take the scratches on his back to heal.
"Goodbye Chuck."