Title: Always Full Circle
Author: Kitty
Disclaimer: I don't own GG. (Or it wouldn't be so horribly shitty now.)
Summary: All she knew was that one minute, she'd thought she was finding the final closure to her relationship with Nathaniel Fitzwilliam Archibald. And the next, she was closing the distance between their lips and having the most searing kiss she'd ever had in her life.
Pairings: N/B, Non-Judging Breakfast Club, implied CB and NS
A/N: I'm back! I haven't written anything in almost a year and I come back with one of my longest fics to date. Hahaha. Enjoy sweeties.
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Blair wasn't sure exactly what it was that woke her – if it was the sound of footsteps coming up the staircase of the Waldorf penthouse or the feeling that someone was watching her sleep. It could also have been the fact that it was now nine o'clock in the morning – or so the wall clock says – and Blair was used to being up no later than seven for her classes.
Fact of the matter is, though, that she woke up to find a blonde girl peering behind her door, eyes hurt and lips set in a grim line. As Serena stared at her form on the bed, Blair found herself incapable of doing anything but stare back, her eyebrows furrowed in confusion. It lasted for about ten seconds before the door slammed shut and the sound of high heels clattering on the marble eventually faded.
Blair found herself sitting up, taking a deep breath and surveying her surroundings.
She was dressed in nothing but her La Perla satin and lace slip, her matching bra and panties littered somewhere near the side of the bed. Her vintage Chanel dress was carelessly thrown over the back of her dresser chair and her Miu Miu flats were nowhere to be found.
"Oh. My. Fucking. God."
Apparently, her clothes weren't the only ones scattered around the bedroom.
A pair of jeans pooled near the foot of her bed, a white polo crumpled above it. A sock – with no pair, mind you – had landed on her study table, while a distinctive green cashmere sweater had found itself near the bathroom door.
Glancing to her right at the form completely covered by her coverlet, save for a head of dirty blond hair, she bit her lip and fought the tears that threatened to spill over her eyes.
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It was the Christmas break of their senior year at college and as per usual, their so-called Non-Judging Breakfast Club – if you could really call them that – had found itself in another romantic mess. Prior to the break, Chuck had been whoring himself out again, this time to some cougar who did the PR for his hotels. He and Blair weren't official – when were they ever, really – but they'd been at their games for close to six years and frankly, she'd always though it meant something to him too. Or at least it was supposed to. Serena, It Girl that she was, was still being hounded by numerous men – Humphrey, some B-list movie star, and occasionally, Nate Archibald, when he wasn't high on pot or out banging some random lacrosse groupie. They were in love squares, triangles – hell, even some nonagons and decagons – and all the crap had been building up through the months. Years, really. It had all become so unbearable that Chuck had again taken off – with or without his PR woman – and Serena had decided to follow suit.
Blair and Nate had been left alone in New York – for the first time in years – and unsurprisingly, the Queen B and Golden Boy had found themselves glued at the hip for the last two weeks. It started with her needing someone to Christmas shop with her, which led to him asking her to be his "friendly" date to the Vanderbilt family reunion. It was like dejavu or some sick joke, the way it all felt so familiar – and somehow so right. Blair got along perfectly with his family and most of them expressed their earnest desire and pleasure to "welcome her back into the Vanderbilt fold."
It had been awkward a bit, after that little reunion, but then they'd both been lonely and in need of real company for so long that they kind of fell back into old habits quite quickly. They started taking turns bringing each other breakfast, using the convenient excuse of "I was in the neighborhood." Blair would bring him his favorite blueberry bagel and Nate would pick up some croissants from the old French bakery a block from his townhouse. She'd come for a visit after her massage or some other errand and just when she'd stayed a couple of hours and felt the "need" to – reluctantly – go home, he'd come up with some excuse to invite her out that night or to make her stay and Blair would be all innocent grins and Nate would be no different.
It seemed like over the years and through all the drama, they'd actually forgotten how easily they got along, how comfortable they actually were with each other. They'd been so drawn in with Chuck and Serena's craziness and instability that they'd gone and tried to just keep up with the both of them. Blair may have had her mean streak and devilishness but she was a wholly level-headed girl overall. She liked having things fixed, ironed out and "just right," and honestly felt most happy and at peace when they were. The same went with Nate. He had no desire to go running after people or things constantly, to get into big fights and drama and confrontations. Chuck and Serena were always the wild ones – the interesting ones, for most people – and Blair and Nate were the stable ones who kept them grounded. It'd been like that for years.
And years.
When they were younger and each other's best friends, Blair took care of Serena and Nate took care of Chuck. Then the whole dynamic got screwed over because Serena decided to leave. So the story went on, everyone started sleeping with everyone else – though Serena would never openly admit she'd slept with Chuck at some point as well – and all hell broke loose for a while. College came and they'd somewhat informally decided that the "couples" could start taking care of each other instead. Blair for Chuck, Nate for Serena. It worked – for a while. But with those two crazies, was anything ever really long term?
They could never be tied down, always out there chasing the next rainbow and Blair and Nate would have to sit back and wait for them again, quietly.
The four of them had been at this "relationship" for so long that it was hard to really draw the lines. It was hard to untangle the hot mess and to get up and do their own individual thing. Blair had been shoved into the fantasy that someone – she – could make a right man out of Chuck Bass that she'd failed to look at herself with critical eyes for the longest time. Nate, lost without his best friend and first love, tantalized by the breasts and long legs and charms of Serena Van der Woodsen, had grabbed for the closest thing he could.
But now, they were gone.
Chuck had disappeared. Serena had flown off. And for a moment, all seemed to be right again.
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Blair Waldorf looked up at the ceiling, fingering the ends of her slip lightly. She didn't want to face the reality of what had happened just yet.
Both she and Nate had felt the tension in the last few days – had felt that urge to come together and just throw all their cares away. To hell with Chuck and Serena, really.
It had all felt so right – being together, doing things together. There was no pain, no emotionally damaging consequences, no sick and sadistic games. Sure, there was angst and drama here too but it wasn't the kind that killed a person. It was the kind that made a person feel even more alive.
As the warm body beside her shifted, Blair dared to glance down.
Nate was looking up to her, his green eyes dark and lacking their usual twinkle.
"Hey there. Archibald."
"Waldorf," he replied quietly, sitting up so that the coverlet covered only the lower half of his body.
"Did we just – uh," she started.
"Obviously," he said, looking at her. "We're not twelve anymore."
"Yeah. We're just…screwed."
"Screwed," he echoed.
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"Nice to see you so dressed up," a voice whispered in her ear.
"Shut up Archibald," she replied primly.
"You were pretty dressed down the last time I saw you," he chuckled. "Though I gotta say, even until now, you're quite a sight for sore eyes."
"Not funny," Blair snorted, as she continued to fix her hair, watching as Nate changed into the same clothes he had worn the day before, minus the cashmere sweater. "Though, just for equality purposes, I must say you aren't looking too shabby either, Nathaniel."
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Sitting at the breakfast table, Blair twirled a strawberry in the bowl of whipped cream before popping it into her mouth.
Nate watched her silently in amusement as she popped her first, second, third – up until her seventh strawberry. Blair was doubtlessly beautiful, in a classic, doll-like kind of way. Her skin was porcelain, her eyes were wide and brown and full of life and her cupid's bow lips were red and full. He'd always loved staring at her when they were together – he still did, actually. One looked at Blair for her face – not her body or her clothes like some did with girls like Serena or even Jenny. With Blair, no matter how well or nicely she dressed, nothing could seem to beat the charm and attractiveness that her face, with its perfect little features, exuded.
"What are you looking at, blond boy? You're starting to creep me out," Blair said quizzically, breaking Nate out of his reverie.
He laughed and honestly replied, "I don't know Blair, you're just really so pretty."
"Oh shut up. You've dated girls as pretty as Serena and Juliet and even that red-haired what's-her-name back when we were college freshmen."
"Yeah, I have," he said thoughtfully, going around the table to her side and tugging her up from her chair. "But none of them were ever as pretty as you," he continued, face dangerously close to hers.
"Stop it Archibald," she whispered breathlessly. "I am having the strangest urge to kiss you."
"Oh really?"
"Yeah-h," she struggled, placing her hands on his chest. "And-and I gotta finish my breakfast now."
"Strawberries hardly count as breakfast."
"Well this place has nothing better to eat," she fired back. Seeing the look of mischief on his face, however, she realized that was not the right answer to give.
Whispering closely in her ear, he answered, "I can think of a few," before letting his tongue dart out and give her ear a little lick.
"I-I…"
Before Blair could give him a suitable retort, he was out of the kitchen and heading to her front door.
"ARCHIBALD! What the hell!" she screamed at him. "We have to talk about this!"
Turning to face her, he cocked his head to the right and said, "About what?"
"THIS! This fucking…fucking thing we're having!" She walked over to him, stomping her feet, hair wild and free from the pony tail she had fixed it into earlier. "One minute, we're complaining about Chuck and Serena and we're friends…And…And the next we're out shopping and going to family reunions! Then we're spending Christmas together and New Year's and we fucking have sex on New Year's Eve! AND I wake up to Serena peering from my door – "
"Wait! What? Serena?"
"SEE! This is what I'm telling you! You've been distracting me with your deep voice and green eyes and sexiness and whatever that I've even forgotten to tell you about Serena seeing me – YOU! – in my bed together! Naked! Or well at least close to that. Whatever!"
"Oh," he replied thoughtfully.
"What the hell are we doing Nate?" she repeats quietly. "I thought we were done with this? With the drama and the screwing around and the secrets and…"
Sighing and heading back into her house, he plops down on the sofa and motions for her to come near. Taking her hand and setting her on his lap, he's quiet for a couple of minutes before he looks up at her, eyes as red-rimmed as hers.
"But were we ever really done, B?" he shrugs. "I mean for real? You broke up with me senior prom – you told me I wasn't what you wanted anymore. I – I frankly just didn't know what to do, you know? You just plain didn't want me. But I guess…I guess I never really believed you were done with me for good. And…and letting you go at that point was just really the best thing I could do for you if I ever wanted us to work out in the far off future."
"But – but you! You and Serena! You dated my best friend! FOR REAL!"
"And you did the same thing, didn't you?" he asked bitterly. "I figured…well, where else was there to go, really? You, me, Chuck, Serena. The four of us are different from the rest of them, you know? And we have this tight thing going on. It was supposed to be us and then the two of them, with their own craziness and whoring or whatever it is you call their promiscuity."
"You're one to talk about promiscuity, Archibald," she said, eyebrow raised.
"Hey, for the record, I was and will never be able to reach Chuck Bass level. And Serena's like his girl version so…"
"Yeah, fine. I get your point. Continue with your bitter tirade."
"You can be such a bitch, Blair," he laughed quietly. "As I was saying…I don't know. I guess I just felt that I had to be with Serena, you know? Because you were leaving me out, you and Chuck. Because it was always supposed to be the four of us and you just up and left me hanging without anyone. Because you'd gone and decided that it was Chuck you wanted after all."
"But you stayed so long with Serena. You went after her. You never went after me!" Blair exclaimed, getting up from his lap and standing in front of him.
"ME? I never went after you?" he replied, getting up as well. "I was always after you Blair! Sure, maybe not when we were seventeen and I was a jerk. But that second time around…Blair I was so ready to give you everything. I gave you what I thought you wanted. I loved you the best I could. But you were so caught up in Chuck still and…and who was I to keep you from what you wanted, you know? I'd made you unhappy before. Who was I to do it again?"
"But – "
"NO! Let me talk first!" Nate yelled, his hurt and anger bubbling up into the surface after almost four years of being buried deep. "I was always just waiting for you Blair. You wanted Chuck, fine, I waited! But I was lost too. I needed to hang on to something too. I couldn't just drift around. And Serena was there and she was pretty out of it too and I guess we just got drawn into each other because it SEEMED to be the right option."
"Seemed?" she croaked.
"I got fucking caught up in it because I didn't know what else to do! You and my best friend lived under the same roof as me and I had to fucking hear you screw around every fucking night! YOU! The love of my life or whatever shit you wanna call it! And HIM! My best friend! It was like that sick limo story over and over again!"
"Fuck you Archibald!" Blair replied, yelling back. "This was all your fucking fault in the first place! You screwed me over first! You're the whole fucking reason I even slept with Chuck! You're the whole fucking reason I got myself into his stupid mess!"
"And I asked for your fucking forgiveness six years ago and you've never really given it, have you?" he said wryly, shaking his head.
Nate took a few steps forward, placing his hands on her shoulders. He placed a light kiss on her forehead before stepping back and shrugging. "For the record, Waldorf, you were the girl who first screwed me over too." Laughing bitterly, he added, "And I guess that's why it's never going to work out with us, no matter how right all of this always feels somehow. Because at the end of the day, we have too much history."
"We'll always be the ones who screwed each other over when we were kids…Won't we?" She sighed, wiping the tears from the corner of her eyes. Looking up at Nate, at his sad green eyes, she said the only thing she could think of, "I'm sorry, Natie."
Smiling sadly, he brought his face down to hers and whispered to her lips, "I'm sorry too, sweetheart."
Blair didn't know if it was the sincerity in his voice or everything else he'd been saying in the past thirty minutes – or perhaps even his usage of their old term of endearment. All she knew was that one minute, she'd thought she was finding the final closure to her relationship with Nathaniel Fitzwilliam Archibald. And the next, she was closing the distance between their lips and having the most searing kiss she'd ever had in her life.
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Getting up from her queen-sized bed, Blair surveyed her surroundings and sighed. Once more, she was dressed down to her underwear – a Victoria Secret thong, this time – with her bra hanging from a bedpost. Her shorts and button-down polo were on the floor, right next to a pair of jeans and white polo.
She had had sex with Nate Archibald for the second time in less than twenty-four hours. And he was, once more, sleeping soundly under her covers, almost as if he belonged there.
And maybe he did.
Maybe after all this time, they still did. Always would?
Blair's Blackberry beeped on her bedside table and she reached for it absently.
"Serena Van der Woodsen," she whispered quietly, opening the message.
We'd always figured it was only a matter of time. Xoxo, S&C
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THE END