Disclaimer: I don't own the characters. They belong to Cecily von Zeigesar and The CW.
"As the best man, you said that I could plan the bachelor party," Nate stated as his friend was begrudgingly pushed into the awaiting limo.
"You didn't even allow me to say good-bye to my bride," Chuck snarled as he ducked his head before it was smashed into the door by his soon-to-be ex-best friend.
"You can say good-bye to her tomorrow," Nate rationalized as he got into the vehicle before his friend could jump back out.
"I won't be saying good-bye to her tomorrow. Tomorrow is the wedding! You won't be able to pry me away from her as soon as that minister says she's mine," Chuck exclaimed, "I can't even see her until the ceremony. That's almost twenty-four hours away!"
"I get it. She's your fiancée and the love of your life, and you never want to be apart ever again, but you need to have this one last night of freedom . . . get it out of your system before you make the ultimate sacrifice," Nate insisted as the limo began moving. He breathed a sigh of relief. Surely even Chuck Bass wouldn't attempt to jump out of a moving car.
Chuck glared evilly at his best man as he pulled his cell phone out of his pocket so that he could apologize to his fiancée for the abrupt exit. She had been in the ladies' room when Nate practically tackled him, and forced him into leaving. There were some days when he cursed Nate's superior athletic ability, and today was definitely one of those days.
"No phone calls," Nate responded as he snatched the phone out of Chuck's hand.
"Nathaniel, if you want to live to see your next birthday, you will hand over that phone," Chuck spit out venomously. Chuck's glare was a little too serious to be ignored.
"Fine, here's your phone back, but no calls. First rule of tonight, only texts are allowed," Nate stated as he threw the phone back at Chuck. It took every ounce of strength Chuck had to not throw the phone at Nate's head. It would leave a mark, he rationalized. It will ruin the wedding pictures, and his wife would kill him.
Chuck began smirking at the thought of 'his wife' as he furiously texted his apology, blaming his departure on Nate. Just thinking the words made him giddy. Him, Chuck Bass, the man with a permanent scowl embedded on his face for most of his life, was giddy. And why shouldn't he be, tomorrow all of his dreams were finally coming true. He was marrying the one person that he cherished most in this world.
Nobody knew better than his best man, what tomorrow meant to him. He had gone through a lot to be with Blair. He endured years of unrequited adoration because she was dating his best friend. When the relationship mercifully ended, he took his chance. . . made his move. It had backfired, and he lost not only her, but his best friend as well. He took the blame for all of it. He had brought it upon himself. She never wanted to be with him. She wanted Nate. He was just someone who was there. He could have been anyone else.
But that wasn't entirely true. It was him. In the years that followed he concluded that it always would have been him. They were meant for each other. Destiny had finished playing its cruel trick on them. Tomorrow they would pledge to be together forever.
"Chuck, this is your last night of freedom," Nate reminded him again as the limo stopped and the driver opened the door for them.
"So you keep saying, Nathaniel. And for the record, your concept of freedom doesn't interest me," Chuck replied as he stepped out, "Any life that doesn't involve Blair at my side doesn't interest me."
"She's not going anywhere," Nate tried to assure him as they walked into the building of Chuck's club, Victrola, "Even if you didn't marry her tomorrow."
"If I don't marry Blair tomorrow, she will never speak to me again," Chuck insisted as the doorman opened the door for them. Chuck quickly took out a hundred dollar bill and handed it to the man.
"Well, now that the wedding has been planned and paid for, but before all of that. Before you even proposed, she would have continued to stand by you," Nate stated, his eyes bugging out in disbelief at the bill his best friend had handed the man.
"For a while," Chuck nodded as they stepped onto the elevator. Nate concluded that he either had no clue which bill he had handed over, or was in too good of a mood to care. "But this is something that she has always wanted."
"What about what you want?" Nate asked.
"What I want is Blair, in any way imaginable," Chuck responded convincingly, "Even if it means giving up my freedom."
"I can't believe you're being so calm about all of this," Nate stated, "You're going to be married in less than twenty-four hours. I keep waiting for you to flip out, and you just haven't. You had better do it soon, or I'm going to miss it."
"It's not going to happen," Chuck chuckled as they reached the club, "I'm ready for marriage."
Nate shook his head at Chuck's confession as they stepped inside. The staff had outdone themselves. The entire place had been transformed into a fantastical paradise. In his partying days, this would have been his ideal night out. He was instantly handed a glass of bourbon and ushered to the front for a prime viewing location for the floorshow. Chuck glared at Nate as he took the stage with a microphone in his hand.
Nate began talking, making some crazy speech about Chuck's last night of freedom, but Chuck wasn't listening. He knew he was absolutely pathetic at that moment because all he wanted to do was be with Blair. His thoughts were rudely interrupted when a waitress come over and suddenly handcuffed his wrist to her. The entire nightclub went nuts, hooting, hollering and whistling at Chuck and the waitress.
"Everyone is so fired!" Chuck thought as he pulled at the cuff looking for the weak spot on the lock. There was always one on these fury things. Sure enough he found his way out before Nate could get out another next sentence. Mercifully, a dancer had grabbed the microphone from him and was booting him off stage. "Okay, so one employee's job is safe," he mumbled.
"Come on, Chuck, I thought you wanted to be tied down," Nate stated as he stepped off stage laughing. Chuck shot him another evil glare as he took his first drink from his glass. "Okay, seriously, Chuck, you're one lucky guy, and if anyone deserves to put up with her headaches for the rest of their life it's you."
The scantily clad dancers all came out on stage and began their well rehearsed routine. He's seen it before. It wasn't anything new, nor did it hold his interest for more than a few seconds.
"Do you really think that about Blair?" Chuck asked, his tone serious as he turned to Nate.
"Think what about her?" Nate asked as he slapped Chuck's back as he sat back to enjoy the show.
"Headaches for the rest of my life," Chuck summarized.
"It was a joke, Dude. Lighten up. You know I love Blair," Nate responded, "Come on, Man, relax. Take off your jacket, roll up your sleeves and enjoy the night. Your staff worked very hard on this."
"I know," Chuck nodded as he unbuttoned his jacket and tried to have a good time.
"Oh, and don't even think about leaving early," Nate stated in one final bit of warning. Your limo driver has strict instructions not to leave until I say so." He concluded he wasn't going to have a staff left after this evening as he watched as his best friend and everyone else in attendance enjoyed the show. His limo driver was the next to be fired. Everyone was drinking excessively and having an all out good time. Chuck tried to enjoy it, or at least pretend to enjoy it, but his heart wasn't in it. All he thought about all evening was Blair.
"Chuck, is everything okay?" Blair asked as she opened up her bedroom door to see him standing against her doorframe.
"We get married in fifteen hours and five minutes, did you know that?" Chuck asked as he grabbed her by the waist and pulled her towards him. It had been an ordeal getting to her. He, Chuck Bass, had to take a cab. He had threatened his driver with termination and even jail time, but nothing could persuade him to take Chuck to his bride.
"I thought you were out with Nate," she responded as she easily melted into his embrace.
"I was," he confirmed as their lips met for a passionate kiss, "But it's not where I wanted to be, so I left."
"You left your own bachelor party," she stated in surprise as her arms went around his shoulders, her hands massaging his neck, "And you're still sober. Was the party that awful?"
"Party was fine," he assured her as he pressed his forehead to hers, "Nathaniel and the staff at Victrola did an outstanding job. They even broke out the fury handcuffs."
"How long did it take you to get out of them?" she inquired curiously as she continued to rub his neck.
"A few seconds," he shrugged.
"Slowing down on me, Bass?" she teased with a wink.
"Not my usual set, so it took me an extra second," he laughed as he began walking her backwards into her old bedroom at her mother's penthouse. It was looked the same as it had when she was in high school. His thoughts drifted to the few precious times they had found themselves on that bed. Of course, she hadn't spent much time in it since then. After high school she moved straight into the dorms for a few painful months, and then into Chuck's penthouse where they currently still lived, "If you have a pair in here, I'll be happy to demonstrate my skills."
"Oh no, you don't," she responded as she pushed back so that he was once again standing in her doorway, "It's nearly midnight, and you have to leave soon. It's bad luck for the groom to see the bride on their wedding day."
"I'll have to see you eventually," he smirked, "I'm not getting married blindfolded. You're liable to pull a switch, and I'll end up married to your father's bull dog."
"You know what I meant, and you like my father's dog," she responded as she slapped him lightly on the chest.
"I love it when you play rough," he groaned as he pulled her to him for a kiss. She was chuckled when their lips made contact.
"Come on, Chuck, I'm serious, you have to leave," Blair responded as she pulled him closer to her as one leg found itself wrapped around his waist. She was hoping beyond hope that he would listen to her words and be the stronger to the two and pull away. She should have known better. He was still Chuck.
"Your lips are saying one thing, Waldorf, but your body is saying quite another," he responded as he slowly lowered the side zipper of her silk nightgown with one hand as he caressed the porcelain skin of her leg with the other.
"I'm really serious, Chuck," she mumbled as she began lowering the jacket off his shoulders, "You have to go."
"You keep saying that, Blair," he purred into her ear as the nightgown was pulled up over her head and quickly discarded to the floor leaving her in her La Perlas, "But I'm not really hearing the conviction in your voice." He paused for a moment to caress her neck, smirked at the racing pulse point he found, "But I am feeling the pulsing beat of your heart. Your blood is beginning to boil, Waldorf, as only I can make it. Tell me I'm wrong."
"You are going to be the death of me," Blair groaned as she wrapped her other leg around him so that she was now encircling his waist. His hands were on her backside instantly pulling her closer to him as he walked them to her bed. Blair was able to kick the bedroom door shut with her foot at the last possible moment. She mumbled something about it not being a good idea for Dorota to catch him there, but he wasn't fully hearing what she said.
"Fifteen hours to go," Chuck whispered as he glanced at the clock, "And you'll be mine forever."
"I'm already yours forever," she moaned as he laid her gently on the bed. He took a step back to rid himself of his dress shirt and tie before he returned to her.
"You really shouldn't be here," Blair stated as he kissed her again, "This is so really bad luck."
"I think I have a way around that, if you'd like to hear it," Chuck stated seductively as he hovered over her.
"Anything," she groaned in frustration at the loss of his heat.
"It's bad luck for the groom to see the bride on the day of their wedding, but they were mum on when the day started. Do they mean at sunrise? When the man wakes up after going to sleep? At midnight?" he began explained, "It all depends on how you define a day, Waldorf."
"Whatever it takes to get you to make love to me," she responded as she pulled him to her by his belt buckle.
"Sunrise is it," he smirked as he finally gave into their desires. "To the first and only Mrs. Chuck Bass. May she find the strength to keep up with me for the rest of our lives."