A/N: So this idea just would not leave me alone, so here it is. Kind of angsty though that wasn't actually my initial idea. Still, it's C/B as always and it's un-beta'd, so all mistakes are mine and are apologised for in advance.
It was all purely platonic, that was what they told themselves. There was nothing behind it, no reason, no meaning. It wasn't what they wanted nor craved, and it certainly wasn't a fragment of their deepest desires. No, it was platonic and purposeless and purely killed the time of day.
The way she never left his mind was, in his words, because he had nothing better to do than to think of his best friend's girl. After all, thinking of Nate would compromise his sexuality (especially if he placed Nate in the same situations he regularly placed Blair) and thinking of Serena was just not justifiable. She was, in essence, everything he liked in a girl but somehow her being friends with Blair dulled her existence. For Chuck, anyway.
And the way her eyes were always drawn to him, the way they searched his every feature and ingrained them to memory was for future reference, when Chuck (undoubtedly) would slur her and this way, she'd have something to fight back with. It naturally had nothing to do with the fact that she needed to know him, remember him because she knew in her heart of hearts that she couldn't have him, not ever. Not that she wanted him, of course. Their relationship was platonic in every sense of the word, and if anyone dared to dispute it, well, their life just wouldn't be worth living.
The secret meetings in coveted tea rooms, unused classrooms, locked bedrooms were nothing out of the ordinary. It was what everyone on the Upper East Side did; it became part of the routine from an early age, and Chuck and Blair were just plainly following suit. Strange as it might sound, nothing occurred. Nothing of that nature, anyway. They sat, they lay, they talked. They learnt more about themselves than each other but that wasn't a problem. The less they knew, the less they had to hide. No, it was the public affairs they had to manage more carefully. The temptations they faced, each and everyday, where there were only so many brushes of hands that could be labelled as friendship. No one noticed, of course, not because they were good at hiding it (they weren't, they really weren't) but because everyone in their circle was far to self-obsessed to notice the little things, the minor details that would, eventually, come to a head. The way they hugged for example. To the average eye, it was nothing out of the ordinary. Her arms around his neck, his around her waist. The smiles, the eyelashes and then the release. But to them, it was more; it could not be called platonic. Her arms circled his neck so she could bring his face closer to hers, desperate for the contact she lacked so much with Nate. His arms encompassed her waist to prove to her that he'd protect her, no matter what. She smiled at him because she couldn't find the words to say what she wanted to. She wasn't brave enough to say them because she didn't want to be caught. His eyelashes formed a quick wink, confirming his understanding and then.. The contact's lost and they're back to being friends. Of course according to them, that's all they ever are.
And now, the way her back was pressed against his stomach was, of course, nothing short of platonic. The way his fingers nimbly lingered just along her hipbone (too close for friendship but not low enough for Blair) and the way her face burned with desire was almost too much to bear. His chin nuzzled gently against the bare skin of her shoulder and then, without warning, his tongue darted out and deposited its residue upon her neck. Her gasp was camouflaged by a round of applause, although for what neither could say. Her gasp has spurred him on and his left arm slipped around her waist, wrapping itself around her stomach, holding her flush against his body. At the top of her back she could feel his heart beating strong against his skin, and though she tried to focus wholly on that, his teeth grinding softly down her earlobe drew her entire attention back to Chuck.
This is what friends do, this is what friends do, this is what friends do was the mantra Blair forced herself to repeat as Chuck continued his torment to her brain. The more she said it, the less she believed it and as her stomach lurched with both trepidation and excitement, she felt her self being tugged from the room full of people into a nearby corridor. Her back lost contact with Chuck's body and soon met the cool exterior of a nearby wall, just metres away from the room in which their friends, relatives and people of the highest standing all congregated. It was risky, they both knew it, the adrenalin pumping faster, faster, harder, harder. The breathlessness was not an issue as they donated their last breath to each other with a soft yet desperate merging of lips. It doesn't mean a thing, they both mutter in their brains but neither one's listening. Blair's trying to think of a cover story to explain why Chuck Bass has his tongue in her mouth, carefully rubbing the tip along the roof of her mouth but more to the point, why she's letting him. Chuck on the other hand is trying to recollect the moment when Blair became real and attainable. The kiss deepens and they both know the platonic stage was lost long ago, but still they fight to deny the truth, as if it would make a difference. As if it could make this (whatever this was) right.
It is, ironically, Chuck who pulls away first. Not for Nate's sake; he'd cancelled any thoughts of Nate way back because the less he thought, the less guilt he felt. Blair strains to disclose the whimper she longs to set free from the loss of contact and he smirks. Before he can tease her, the door opens but neither one moves; Blair, because she's frozen to the spot. Chuck because he's in just the right angle to hide Blair along with the fact that it can pass (just) as if he's in deep conversation. The onlooker (disastrously) is Nate and with each devastating footstep towards the platonic pair, Blair's nausea rises. She chances a glance at Chuck's face which is taught and pensive, but a stroke from his hand down the long line of her side alerts her that he's got it under control. He feels her relief but it's not over, not quite yet. She doesn't move, not even a fraction and can feel Chuck's hand burning on her side, his thumb on her stomach, fingertips on her back. She knows it shouldn't be there, that it'll give them away but she's too reluctant to move it. More importantly, she wants it there.
Nate advances, asks a simple question and goes again, chancing a brief smile at Blair before he goes. Yes, he can see they are in the middle of something (if only he knew what) but Blair's supposed to be his girlfriend. Surely he'd offer her more than a smile. Chuck can see Blair thinks so too, as her head turns away and her hand rises to land on top of Chuck's on the side of her waist. Nate doesn't deserve her, they both know it but Blair will keep churning out the same old lies until Nate proves her otherwise. He deserves that much after what she's done and on some warped level, Chuck understands. But he won't for long; Nate's had more than enough chances to prove his worth and Chuck knows that Nate's not good enough for Blair. Hell, in Chuck's mind no-one's good enough Blair, not even himself. Correction, he's definitely not good enough for her, but at least he's trying.
Chuck places one last, longing kiss on her lips and she responds like her world is ending. And in a way, she supposes it is because she knows what Chuck's going to say before he even says it. We can't do this anymore..
"Blair, we can't do this anymore." Blair's heart sinks and she has to bite back the tears. This isn't how it's supposed to be. She's just a girl who loves a boy and for once, the boy loves her back but it's still not that straightforward. Why? Because she's Blair Waldorf and simple missed her out completely. "It's not fair on anyone."
The words shatter Chuck's heart to irreparable damage and she feels every single shard pierce her own. She hopes deep inside that Nate is worth all the pain and the tears, because if he's not she might just have given up the single best thing to ever happen to her life. He kisses her tears and then disappears and they're back to being platonic. Only this time, they really are because it hurts too much to be anything more.