A/N: This was just a random idea that popped into my head. Not one of my longest. It was inspired by a chapter I did for Act IV, Scene I, if you think it sounds familiar. Because it is. I just wanted to explore it further in a more serious context.
Summary: "You are the most perfect thing there is to me. In all of your perfection and imperfection. Your complete complexity. There isn't anyone out there like you. And they could never hope to be."
Disclaimer: The plot idea is all mine, but the rest isn't. Hail GG.
Blair raised her delicate fist and knocked primly on the door of the suite in The Palace Hotel. The golden and familiar letters marking the door glittered mischievously at her and she knew she should be feeling that pesky emotion of guilt that plagued the lesser beings.
She of course, rarely had such an emotion. Especially here. Because here guilt didn't exist. Here, everything was the way it should be. Everything was right.
She waited, pretending to be patient as the other guests at the hotel passed her. It was several long and arduous moments before the door eased open carefully. He even opened doors with the fluid grace of the devil.
His appearance was more ruffled than she would have liked, then again, he must not be that pleased with her either.
"Good evening," she said politely. Chuck's dark eyes flit from her form to the civilians milling around his hotel and clenched his jaw.
"Good evening," he returned with forced politeness.
"May I come in?" Blair inquired. Then the corner of his mouth turned in a slight smirk.
"It would be my pleasure to allow you the privilege of entering my room."
She knew that he was mocking her at this point but she was so passed caring at the moment that as he motioned for her to enter, she could do nothing but abide. Unlike the proper gentleman that he was pretending to be for the masses, he did not allot room for her to pass comfortably. He draped his arm over the doorway, forcing her to press by him to enter.
He closed the door behind her, staring at her coolly.
"You're late," he informed her.
"My apologies," she replied.
"You don't have to be cordial anymore, Blair," he informed her. "We're not being watched."
Her posture was delicate and proper, the way she always was when she was in other's company. The exact way that she wasn't whenever she was with him. He missed that girl. The one who he hadn't seen in a week. All he saw was this cold, rigid thing she had become for society and missed the person who used to let herself crawl all over him in dark corners.
"Come here," he said softly. Her eyes were hesitant but he knew it was just the paranoia. The paranoia that was keeping them apart. Even if it was justified.
He reached for her hands to coax her closer but before his brain even got that far, they were wrapped around his neck, forcing their mouths together like they couldn't in front of other people. He ripped her waistcoat open to get to the sparkly cocktail dress that he saw her wearing for her mother's opening that night.
"I wanted to take this off as soon as I saw it," he confessed between powerful kisses. Her moan was deep throated and desperate and he needed her that much too.
She pulled away slightly, looking into his eyes. He was used to these sorts of displays. Like she was studying him to see if he was real. Her nails pressed into his lapel as she pulled herself against him again.
"I missed you," she said instead of matching his crude comment. She bit his lower lip gently like she used to do so often and it was at times like these where he wished he didn't love her so much. So much that he seemed to hate everything when she wasn't around. How he hated everything so much because it was keeping them apart.
He dug his fingers into her hips punishingly. "There's a way we can rectify that."
As he presumed she just kissed him again, changing the subject.
"Just love me awhile," she breathed into his mouth. "Please?"
"I'll love you forever," he promised.
He was sure that was as close as he was going to get to an official proposal. She wouldn't accept anything more.
Yet.
.
... ...
.
She looked mesmerizing that night. Her mother was opening another one of her lines and she walked into that party with a black dress that shimmered tantalizingly and unfairly in front of him. He wished she wasn't such a tease sometimes.
But not all the time.
"Charles."
Eleanor was glaring condescendingly down on him and he wished Blair's comforting eyes were as tangible as the way she would stroke him through his pants underneath the table when her need for him got too strong. He wished her comfort was enough at this point. But it didn't mean anything without her.
"Eleanor."
Blair wanted him to have at least a small sense of propriety. Especially with what they were trying to accomplish. But he just couldn't. Because this wasn't about him. Because he knew of all the very real reasons why Blair would lock herself in the bathroom where he wasn't aloud to help her. Because the old bird shouldn't have a say in who or when he wanted to spend the rest of his life with.
"I see you don't have your usual hoards of trollops hanging off of you," Eleanor said pointedly.
"I have found something more worthy of my time and attention," he said coolly, very aware of how Eleanor stared as his eyes scorched lasciviously at her daughter's eye catching dress that was proper enough for society. But just barely.
"Blair," Eleanor stated sharply. "Shouldn't you be introducing yourself around?"
Chuck glared at how Blair's eyes cowered to the floor. "Yes, Mother."
"No need," Chuck grinned easily. "I'll take her."
Before she could protest, Chuck interlocked his arm with her daughter's and led her in the exact opposite of the crowd.
"I'm sorry," Blair said quietly, "it's just the stress."
"Then your mother's been stressed for over a year," he answered. "And you know how much I hate waiting."
In an instant, he had her against the wall, his mouth on her neck. "I haven't had you in a week."
It was with comments like those that Blair attempted not to let her eyes roll to the back of her head.
"We just have to wait for a little while longer," Blair amended.
"Your mother will never appreciate me in the way she used to," Chuck said darkly.
"She's not fond of men who break her daughter's heart," Blair couldn't help but let out sharply.
"And does she know how many times that you've broken mine?" he uttered.
"I'm guessing not," she whispered back.
"We're the only ones worthy of each other and you know it."
"I'm not the one you have to convince," Blair said.
"Me?" Chuck asked. "You're not blameless in this."
"I know," Blair said hastily. "We just have to wait a bit longer until she's in a good mood."
"She will never be in a good enough mood to accept me as your husband."
"Chuck," Blair reprimanded. She didn't really like that word.
"What?" Chuck asked. "When will you stop being so paranoid that someone will hear us?"
"When our enemies have nothing to gain from finding out," Blair answered. "Because you know my mother could make your life very difficult.
"More than she already has?" Chuck asked. "She's keeping you from me without even breaking a sweat."
He felt her tremble beneath his body as she looked back at the party. She pushed him away slightly so she could free herself. He caught her harshly by her wrist, suddenly frightened again at her disappearance like he used to be so often.
"I'll come back later tonight," she promised. He still held fast. "I promise."
"I wish that she didn't make you ashamed of us."
"I'm not ashamed," Blair said, kissing him fiercely. "I just want us to be together with no repercussions."
"I wish she didn't make you hate yourself," he answered, but letting go of her wrist. He watched her hesitance again, knowing there was nothing that could be done. He wove his fingers at the back of her neck so she would let him kiss her.
"You make me feel whole," she answered before backing away.
"Do you really promise?" he asked. He hated sounding needy and... needy. But this was becoming unbearable. And she was the only one to hear him speak in such a manner anyway.
"Same time," she answered before losing herself in the crowd.
And now they were moving against each other in the primal way that he could never achieve with anyone else and he was sure that things could be this simple. He hated all the obstacles and pain. He wished they could be simple. Not boring and droll, but simple enough that people would accept that they were in love. That this was real. More real than any of those mere mortals could feel. This was the most real anyone could feel ever.
That when she clenched her eyes shut, her nails embedded in his back, she really loved him. And all of this pain and suffering hadn't been in vain. But then again, he kind of like how deliciously dirty she made everything. How she made him feel like a teenager again when she would sneak into his room in that waistcoat and assault him with pretty and sexy kisses and make his voice hoarse with the way he shuddered within her.
Their sweat made it hard to cling to each other in that way that they did, but it just made him hold on tighter.
"I'm not going anywhere," she promised breathlessly, still moving around him, her hair sprawled across his pillow.
It would smell like her for a week now. That Blair-smell that had her sweat sticking her natural scent of perfume and perfection of Blair-ness so it was smothering him until it still wasn't enough and he needed the real thing.
"For now," he breathed. Her nails suddenly grabbed his hair at the roots and she looked into his eyes with fury.
"Don't say that," she said, restraining him so he couldn't move with her like he so desperately needed. "Ever."
"Blair," he said in his strangled voice, just wanting to feel her until he couldn't anymore. Until he was so numb with pleasure that he couldn't feel anything. Until they wouldn't let him.
"Promise," she demanded.
"I promise," he groaned into her flesh. She released her vice grip on him and it just made the communal release all that more satisfying.
"I love how you torture me," he laughed darkly, rolling to his side. Her shoulders were trembling so he held her close. "Are you cold?"
She shook her head into the crook of his neck but let his warm arms surround her anyway.
"I don't want to go," Blair finally said. He wished he could convey to her how very much he didn't want her to either. How he feared that every time she was forced away, that she wouldn't come back to him. "I wish I could stay through the morning. And after"
It was words like those that send a strike of fear through his heart. Like they wouldn't actually happen.
"I'll wait," he said, liking how confident he sounded. That teenager in him shining through again. Blair lifted herself up on her elbow, studying him again. He wished she knew how this was the most real thing that he had. "I'll wait for as long as you need."
Her brows furrowed. "I don't deserve it."
He caught her chin, forcing her make eye contact with him.
"I hate that's what you think," he told her. "You are the most perfect thing there is to me. In all of your perfection and imperfection. Your complete complexity. There isn't anyone out there like you. And they could never hope to be."
He felt her lips on his again, liking how he could smell the hair that draped over them.
"Say more things like that," she requested quietly. The person that was as self centered as he was as she was starting to sound bashful.
"I love you," he replied because that was the most meaningful thing he could say to her. Since the beginning. She kissed him again, letting him settle her against his side. "Stay at least for a little while."
"I'll stay for as long as you need."
"At least until your mother needs you."
He couldn't help but sound bitter. He remembered the trials of trying to please the parent that never seemed to care. But he was selfish enough to think that he just wanted her all to himself. He could be cruel enough to think about how much he liked those annual fights she had with Serena because then he could be the high and mighty one. Then he could be hers completely.
"I'll stay with you forever," she said. The air moved and he held her tighter against him.
"That sounded like a proposition," he prodded."
"Consider it an acceptance," she answered. "If you're still offering."
"I thought you refused to hear the question," he replied. "It could be cursing our future."
"We're fooling ourselves if we think we can't sabotage this perfectly well on our own," she answered. "I just want us to be out in the open for good."
"As long you get to be my wife someday," Chuck said, "then I will wait as long as it takes."
"I want to be your wife," she said. "And I will be. Right after we get to Paris."
"Paris?" he asked, knowing what she sounded like when she was plotting something.
"That's where my father is," she said. "And he's always liked you."
"So when we get to Paris," he smirked.
"When we get to Paris," she replied, her body finally relaxing against his.
"Promise?" he asked.
"I promise."