Disclaimer: This show was not mine. I never would have even considered the thing with the lipstick cameras. Oh, Chuck. Don't ever change. Or how apparently the Navy is the same as Girl Scouts? Whatever. The point is, they're not mine.
Summary: More often than not, Blair and Chuck have conversations that Blair later edits out of the perfect movie that is her life, never to be remembered again. Starts from the Pilot and goes from there.
Pairings: Primarily Chuck\Blair, but all the cannon pairings – which, this show being awesome, would take about three pages and would look like the alphabet gone mad (Example: C\B, C\N, S\N, S\D,)
Spoilers: Every chapter would center on a new episode, so…
:-:
Chapter 8
Seventeen Candles
Spotted: Oh, you wouldn't believe me if I told you.
:-:
"Nobody enjoys their first time," he murmured, almost apologetically.
Blair's smile traveled all the way to her eyes for the first time in quite a while. She had no presence of mind to control her emotions at that moment. She was exhausted and sated and was actually leaning against Chuck's head while not wearing underwear in a display of cliché she swore she'd never be. And with who! But she didn't care. It seemed like the best place to be resting one's head after having your world turned upside down.
Everything was just so… perfect.
Her smile widened even still. "Except me."
He kissed her.
She felt him smirk against her lips.
:-:
But when he fell asleep, exhausted himself and maybe a little drunk, repercussions started settling in, as they always inevitably do.
What just happened?
The extent of the stupidity of her recent actions was so overwhelmingly large that she couldn't even manage a list. Nate's face and Chuck's face and how she felt and what it meant and everything became muddled in her head. She couldn't even make a list.
She felt disgusted with herself.
Nate would be disgusted with her.
She chanced a glance at Chuck, who was sleeping peacefully with his arm around her.
That pig might be all amorous now, but he will be disgusted with her as well. Chuck never respected the women he slept with. And to think, he used to hold her in such high regards. He used to see her as his equal.
That was over now.
So, she lost her boyfriend and one of her best friends in the course of one night.
Lovely.
None too gently, she pushed his arm away and pressed the button to stop. Chuck stirred in protest but otherwise remained sound asleep. And only when the limo stopped driving did she realize that she had sex in a moving vehicle while the driver was two feet away. How tinted were the windows? How much privacy did they have, really? How much more repulsive could she get?
She got out of the limo heavily and tried not to cry as she hailed for a cab in her little white slip and Chuck's jacket.
This was not her. This was not her.
This was Serena, not her.
This wasn't happening. This didn't happen. This will never be mentioned.
Chuck was an asshole; he'll act like it never happened, thank God. He'll sneer like he owned her but he'll keep his stupid mouth shut. Nate was his best friend. And Nate was her boyfriend. And as soon as the sun rose he would be again.
God damn it, it was her birthday.
Now she was crying in earnest.
:-:
A few hours later she was with Serena and all was forgotten.
Yes, it was. Like that.
Everything was as it should be. They were sprawled across Blair's bed with yogurts, going over the last details of her birthday party. Serena was telling her Dan Humphrey related antics while Blair was grateful for having a steady boyfriend who didn't require as much mental patience as Cabbage Patch.
Yes, she did have a boyfriend. Or at least, she would by the end of the day.
As it was, Blair eyed Serena suspiciously. "Well?"
Serena shrugged. "Well… nothing happened."
Blair raised a skeptical eyebrow. "Define… nothing."
"Well, we didn't say our prayers and fell asleep in separate beds," Serena chuckled, splaying out on Blair's bed in a way that would make anyone else look like a haggish clown – but not her. "But as for that… no."
What? No! "But you had a plan and everything!" she exclaimed, oddly embarrassed that Serena didn't have sex while she had. Now she wasn't just a slut, she was the only one. Everyone had managed to execute some restraint but her.
Stupid, stupid, stupid.
Serena laughed heartily. "Yes, God forbid we disobey the plan!" At Blair's annoyed glare, she frowned. "Blair, is everything alright? You seem even more high-strung than usual. I'm honestly worried about the public's safety."
What in the world wouldn't be alright? Aside from her fallen chastity, of course. She tried not to squirm guiltily. "… what are you talking about?" Her mouth did something that resembled a smile but was more barring of teeth maniacally. "I'm fine."
Serena rolled her eyes. "Yeah, right. I feel like you're about to bite me."
"It's not my fault you watch too many horror movies," Blair rolled her eyes. "Leave me out of it."
Putting her own yogurt down, Serena examined her closely. This time Blair couldn't resist squirming uncomfortably. Damn Serena. Sometimes Blair would walk around on the verge of tears for days and Serena wouldn't notice, but this she notices. Was it really so obvious that she had done the stupidest thing in the history of stupidity?
And she hadn't even been drunk! Aside from a few drinks she stole from the limo on the way over to Victrola… there had been nothing. No sweet alcohol to hide behind in shame. Even Nate had that going for him.
"How did things go last night?" Serena finally asked.
Whoa. Good guess. "You mean other than the police crashing the dinner party?" Blair retorted dryly, already calculating a way to have the incident with Nate's father explain away any oddity in her behavior. Was it a good enough reason to be this tense? Hell, it'd have to do.
Luckily, Serena seemed somewhat appeased. "Yeah, I read about that. How's Nate holding on?"
Blair shrugged, "My guess is… not well?"
"Your guess?" Serena repeated slowly.
Blair swiftly got off the bed and started rummaging through the closet. For what, she had no idea, since it was her closet that she knew backwards and forwards. All these years of covering and pretending and this was the best strategy she came up with? "You know how he is," she breezed, sifting through endless racks. "Brick wall and all. God forbid he'd ever share."
Again, Serena accepted this at face value. "Good point."
Blair wasn't listening any more. Too busy was she counting the reasons why she and Nate were the perfect couple. He was beautiful and delicate and just the match for her. Sweet, unsuspecting Nate, with his baggage of problems and desperate need of support.
He was troubled enough these days – no need to burden him with gory details of any kind. Ever.
No one had to know about this.
"Nothing is beyond repair," Blair murmured, more to herself than anything.
Serena got up from the bed, apparently having noticed the twinge of forlorn in Blair's voice. She was intuitive and clueless at the same time, but then again, people loved that about Serena: she was a walking contradiction. Besides, who in their right mind would ever guess Blair's real problem?
Hell, even Blair herself was happy to deny said problem. It had been fun like sleeping with Chuck had to be and nothing more. People had sex with each other all the time. It was the generation of promiscuity. She could think of it as a trial run. She always liked to come prepared. It was okay, for her first time.
Just okay.
"B, are you sure you're okay?" Serena asked softly, tucking a loose curl behind Blair's ear. "You seem… I don't know, weird."
Ugh, if she had to hear it one more time… "Well, since you're being pretty weird, I can assume this is a severe case of projection," she snapped, quite unkindly. "What's up with you?"
"Funny, I didn't know there was anything up with me," Serena mused, looking rather amused. "But if we have to nitpick, then… well, Dan told Vanessa we would be having sex yesterday. I guess that's a little weird."
"Ew!" Blair almost shrieked, momentarily forgetting about her own problems in lieu of this new level of ickiness introduced in her life. "What? Are you serious?"
Serena laughed heartily, "No need to overreact."
Sometimes Serena was too carefree for her own good. Or maybe she was just faking it. Either way, telling other people about one's sexual activities is just… "Are you kidding?" she blenched. "That's totally-" her phone rang, cutting off her train of thought.
Blair retrieved it hastily, her chest fluttering. Could it… could it be that her problems with Nate were solved without her even trying? On his own volition for once?
Chuck's smirk flashed across the screen, even more insufferable now that it was tiny and badly colored.
She rolled her eyes. Yeah, right. Now there was a call she was planning on taking exactly never.
Serena watched curiously as Blair pressed 'ignore' like it was some sort of Karate killing blow. "Okay, what was that? Who was it and who were you hoping for?" she nudged her.
Blair fought against a blush. "Aren't we nosy today? It was nobody."
Yes. Nobody. Absolutely no one worth mentioning, thinking of, or remembering.
She was one of those women who woke up next to their worst nightmare and didn't understand why.
Oh dear God, she was living the term Coyote Ugly.
Serena nodded, "Uh-huh. And who were you hoping for?"
"Nate, obviously." She wasn't even lying this time. "I thought he might need to talk."
This time her phone beeped, indicating a text message. She already didn't like where this was going. It was doubtful that Nate would send her his heart and soul in a text message. A jab at her dignity, however, could be accomplished by much less. For a second she considered just deleting the text altogether; but no. Chuck didn't deserve that, she supposed.
She did hurt his pride, in a way. And it was not – painful as it was to admit – entirely his fault.
avoiding me? how predictable. 4 shame.
Blair rolled her eyes. Figures he'd used text speak to ruin a classic saying. Also, how lame. He sounded more like a pouty little boy than an evil mastermind.
"Hang on," she told Serena, ignoring her inquisitive stare.
She quickly typed back: any normal person would.
Not her best, but she was nervous.
A reply came a second later.
that's what i said. predictable.
leave me alone.
where's the fun in that? The smirk was practically evident, even through the dull, generic black letters.
She should have known this would happen. Like Chuck would ever let go of such delicious ammunition. Just because lately they had gotten along peacefully didn't mean it would last forever. In fact, it was a clear sign of danger. Just because he was tipsy enough to sleep through her untangling herself from him, and fleeing as if the limo was on fire without even bothering to direct his driver to her house – did not mean he wouldn't remember at all.
Well, that's two hours of prayer gone down the drain. Thanks a lot, Lord.
Blair shut the phone with irritation. "Some people just don't let go, you know?"
Serena laughed. "Yeah, that's not suspicious at all."
"Don't try and change the subject," Blair snapped, even though she was the one who was technically doing it. She opened the closet door again as if they haven't gone through this girly stage already. Still, anything to avoid looking at another pair of human eyes.
"I can't believe he told her you guys were gonna do it," she murmured, quite appalled. Who would tell their friends about their sex plans, anyway? How tacky was that?
Just grab Nate and finish this. Report back with details.
If he finds me by midnight, when the masks come off, he can claim his prize.
Oh, shut up.
Maybe she did franchise sleeping with Nate a bit too much. Fat lot of good that did, too.
"Well, I told you," Serena added, further proving the point.
Blair waved it off, "That's different. I'm a girl."
"Yeah, well, so is she."
"Exactly my point."
:-:
Chuck Bass would never forget the one time he woke up in his limo naked and alone and was displeased with the last part. It was all usually pretty simple: the girls would be driven home (by his trusty driver who has seen more than his fair share of debauchery in the limo) with a feeling of immense satisfaction and a pleasant smile from Chuck, in case he was awake.
Not this time, though.
He wasn't sure about the expected afterglow protocol a girl like Blair would surely have, but he was willing to play along breakfast, Breakfast at Tiffany's or possibly endless hours of a patented Waldorf meltdown. Either one was fine; everythingwould have been better than being stranded as an afterthought. Again.
He rolled down the window, not even bothering to cover himself more than necessary.
"Mr. Bass?" the driver said calmly. "We are at the Palace Hotel."
Only then did Chuck notice they were parked by the hotel and the car wasn't in motion.
"How long have we been here?" Chuck asked, more to put his dried throat to work than anything. He really didn't care; he was pissed off and his tongue felt like sandpaper.
"A while," the driver answered.
Kudos to him for not waking him up. He deserved a raise.
"And the girl with me?" he narrowed his eyes. There was an off, off chance she went up to his suite to freshen up. Or to Serena's suite to mourn her lost virginity. That was also alright, considering the worse option.
"The… lady left a couple of hours ago, hailed a cab," the driver answered calmly, as if this wasn't the most enraging thing in the world.
"And you didn't stop her?" Chuck spat.
For the first time, the driver seemed alarmed. "Sir? Was I supposed to? She seemed to be in a hurry."
Yeah, that bitch would be in a hurry to clean up and forget the whole thing.
"Why didn't you wake me up?" Chuck asked angrily, gathering his things and dressing quickly. His jacket was missing, he noticed. He'd like to think she took a keepsake, and not that she'd 'borrowed' it because she was so disgusted she didn't even want to stay long enough to be properly driven home.
Now the driver was sweating a bit. "Sir, I didn't-"
"Shut up," Chuck barked, storming out.
Scratch that raise, that idiot was so fired.
Now, don't get the wrong idea. It wasn't that he was hurt, per se.
It was just…
So, Blair Waldorf thought she could disappear before being dismissed? Try no. Absolutely no one in this world, male or female, was allowed to leave Chuck's presence before being properly dismissed. Except maybe his father. But definitely not her. If he had to charm, he would; if he had to threaten, blackmail or corner, he would. Unfortunately, he had a feeling this wouldn't do much good in this case.
So, he moved to the next best thing: manipulation with a capital M.
And he didn't even know why he was trying so hard.
Obviously, what he should be doing was patting himself on the back for a job well done. He was no less entitled to tap that ass than Nathanial, if you disregarded the whole boyfriend thing. Besides, now he could allow his two best friends to continue their epic romance without the pressure of sex holding them back. He was such a giver, that Chuck Bass. Why, one could say he was almost doing Nate a favor, taking the pressure off him.
Yeah.
Why, then, did he enter Tiffany's with such determination and snatched the one piece he knew was meant to be purchased by a lover?
His stomach fluttered at the word. Lover. The lover of Blair Waldorf. The thought was oddly thrilling. Having Blair at his side, only for him, with those wicked brown eyes boring into his like there was nobody else in the room, in the world. Hell, yes. Then again, it would be the greatest challenge he had ever faced, and Chuck liked easy. Easy money, easy women. The only thing about Blair Waldorf that was easy was angering her.
Why, then, Chuck Bass? Why?
Why was he such an idiot?
Why couldn't he stop replaying the memory of her purring in his ear? How pathetic was that?
It wasn't that great, anyway.
(Shut up)
His phone rang and it was Nate, but he let it go to voicemail. And not because he was feeling guilty, mind. Because he wasn't. Because they were broken up. Albeit for several hours, but still. Semantics were semantics. He just had to make sure Nate hadn't changed his mind yet again and was planning to interfere with Chuck's plans.
Not that he had any… oh, forget it. His excuses were getting lamer and lamer.
Screw it. He wanted Blair and he would goddamn get her.
And then dismiss her.
Just watch him.
:-:
Blair's hair was adorably splayed all over the pillow as she slept soundly. Chuck smirked to himself. Still had it. And yet, he couldn't explain it, but it annoyed him that she was once again paying exactly zero attention to him. No one made him feel quite as invisible as she did. He hated it. It would simply not do. Slowly, his lips trailed a sensual trail all the way from her earlobe to the pulse point in her neck that made her squirm just minutes before.
Blair giggled, her eyelashes fluttering at the rather rude onslaught.
"This is the second time you fell asleep," Chuck said, doing nothing to hide the smugness from his voice. "Am I really that good?"
For a moment, Blair looked at him like she couldn't quite place her location and the circumstances which led her to be in bed with none other than Chuck Bass. And then she groaned, "Shut up."
"Well," Chuck drawled. "I was expecting some cuddling."
"Shut up."
His smirk widened. "Not in my nature to."
"God, did I notice," she closed her eyes, willing him to disappear.
Au contraire. Trying to escape only made him more prominent. "You're not overly quiet yourself, B," he reminded her softly, his voice cutting into her.
Blair shuddered at the thought. No, she hadn't been quiet. She had been loud and made weird sounds that couldn't have been attractive. She felt dirty and self-conscious. What Chuck must have thought of her, writhing under and over him like a slut with no self-awareness, making a fool of herself.
God.
"Chuck, what are you getting out of this?" she asked almost desperately. "I need to know the rules before I can play along. What do you want, exactly?"
"You," he answered easily, never skipping a beat. "You'd think it'd be obvious by now."
Yeah, right. Like anyone would want her after the display she had made, not once but twice already. Maybe Chuck was just that much of a pervert. He seemed to enjoy himself just fine.
Maybe he was just making fun of her.
She winced at thought. "Yes, fine, but you've – ugh – had me. Mission accomplished. What is it now?"
Chuck's hand grazed her ankle, slightly sliding up to rest against her knee in a motion that shouldn't be as sensuous as it was. "Well, I'm not done wanting you," he drawled.
Blair shivered despite herself. Her mind edged as surreptitiously as possible to that place where she didn't care who and where they were and how she looked and how stupidly she was acting. This place that had only pleasure, no repercussions. This place where she was a girl lying in bed with a boy that adored her.
Still, she cleared her throat and straightened primly. "And when do you think you might be done?"
He shrugged. "I don't know; this is pretty unprecedented."
Against all her gut's protests, Blair grinned and shot his question back at him: "Am I really that good?"
"Oh, yes," Chuck said at once, making her blush slightly (because it was hot in the middle of winter). "I'm still trying to decide on whether it's a surprise." His hand on her knee rose even further as he murmured softly: "Cool exterior; the fire below."
Oh, my. Blair's breathing was a little too heavy for her liking. She wanted to be in control of this stupid, twisted situation. "Well, you're not bad either," she confessed dismissively like it was no big deal, how he made her feel. "I guess all that practice paid off."
"Yes, because my entire life has been in preparation for this," he chuckled.
"Your words, not mine," she giggled, momentarily enchanted by this new possible version of her life.
What a nice, romantic notion. It would register better in her brain if this was all a ploy on his part to seduce the girlfriend of his best friend which he has loved in secret for years. He would have concocted said ploy while brooding in the shadows, watching the golden couple laughing and kissing. And who could blame an innocent girl for falling into Chuck Bass's trap?
But how did that story end, exactly? Who got the girl? Did the golden couple conquer the Dark Lord and his evil, hedonistic plans?
Or did the princess realize what a mistake she had been living?
Chuck looked at her, a small grin graced over his lips as her laughter froze and she was left gazing at a nondescript point in the ceiling in wonder.
"So, do you want to take out your pristine calendar and mark a date for next time?" he drawled, lulling her back to the real world where there was no royalty, only mistakes and bitter snap decisions.
She looked absolutely aghast at the very thought. "What? Don't you have a single shred of shame?"
Jeez, sometimes he was tempted to think he had imagined the whole thing, the way she was acting. He wanted her; she was learning to want him. What shame? Wasn't it supposed to be easier? Wasn't he supposed to be over it now?
He straightened, almost in indignation. "I'm Chuck Bass."
That's a 'no', then? She rolled her eyes. "How could I ever forget who I was dealing with?"
"I'd say you didn't, considering the affinity you've developed for moaning every syllable of my name," he reminded her, his voice dropping to a husky whisper. He was terribly cliché when it came to seduction and he had hit just the target audience for that: Blair Waldorf; screenwriter, director, producer and main actress in her movie we call life. His hand, now resting on her thigh, edged a little bit towards its target, careful not to alert the lady.
Not that Blair would have noticed a horde of elephants passing by, judging from the way all blood rushed to her ears. Oh. Dear. God. Why were these embarrassing details brought up? Why couldn't she be smoldering and quiet?
"I can't believe you were my first," she moaned.
If he had been a nice normal Nate she would have remembered how a sex goddess acted and not lose control over her own body.
Chuck's slid closer to her. He decided to lavish attention on her neck, making her moan for a different reason. "And second," he purred proudly.
See? Control out the window.
She shivered, feeling more than hearing him. "This is so weird."
"That is not the reaction I was aiming for," he said, sounding amused as he traced butterfly kisses along her jaw.
Blair stroked his hair absently, guiding his movements. "I thought it'd be different," she deadpanned, staring ahead.
Not this again. Stop ignoring me! He wanted to shake her. But how would that be helpful? Instead he positioned himself on top of her, cutting off the rest of the world. Her eyes focused on his and she looked completely lost, but it was a start. "Different how?" he asked, almost tenderly.
She shrugged. "For one, I thought there'd be more love professions."
"Overrated," he snapped, suddenly feeling like a pathetic coward. What was a little I love you, anyway? There was no reason for his blood to freeze like this. Just because he had said it exactly never and never had it said to him? Pfft. "Actions speak louder than words," he said, promptly pressing against her in emphasis.
There was one part of him that definitely loved her.
Blair laughed at the obvious discomfort this subject brought on even though Chuck's body was obviously betraying him. Seemed like he was always up to the task when it came to her. How empowering. Two points for the ex-virginal flower. "And here I thought you'd do anything to satisfy a girl," she teased, pushing his buttons further.
If he suddenly had this weird ability to control her body, it was only understandable that she'd try and fight back by controlling his mind.
This was Blair Waldorf, see.
And Chuck knew this. Every nerve in his body told him to run.
Dismiss her now, Charles. Before she ruins you like she ruins everyone who disappoints her. If you can't act like Nate and look like Nate and just be all around as Nate-like as possible, run; because Nate was the only one who had a free pass when it came to Blair Waldorf. Nate could cheat and it was all good and fine, but if Chuck made a single step sideways, he was toast.
Dismiss her now, urged the single cell in his body that had any sense at that particular moment.
He watched her watch him with a victorious smirk splayed across her lips.
Yeah, he wasn't going anywhere, and neither were the aforementioned butterflies. Seemed like he was her momentary doormat. Momentary! And with benefits! But a doormat nonetheless.
Hell, he was so turned on.
