A/N I don't own anything. So this one gave me some trouble. I wanted to write it from BOTH their perspectives and include a bromance C/N scene. Not too sure how it turned out. Please let me know. Scenes in italics are Chuck's flashbacks/thoughts.
1:07 a.m.
She's lying on her right side, her back facing me. Her lace teddy, the one I know she bought with torturing me in mind, falling off one smooth, silk shoulder. I gently trace the length of her gorgeous neck with the tips of my fingers, dropping soft kisses to that spot behind her ear. She exhales happily in her sleep and unconsciously cuddles her back into my chest. I readjust my body behind hers, sliding one arm beneath her head, the other down to play with the fingers of her left hand. She smells like vanilla and lavender and pure heaven, which is the opposite of where I'd end up if dear Nathaniel is right.
He is convinced she will hate it, fucking detest it, and has told me so on many occasions. One of which I'm positive I heard the distinct sound of him blowing his load with two brunette stewardesses in the background. He's become quite the whore whisperer since his brief foray into Lady Catherine's fountain of youth.
I choose respectively to disagree and plan on rubbing it in his face as smugly as possible when my version completely eradicates any lingering romantic fantasies of his from her mind. In fact, I have wagered my entire inheritance that he doesn't know shit, or her any better than he could have seen her through his fugly man bang, which, for the record (you are welcome mankind), I disposed of. I thank fuck for Tequila and a drunkenly inspired Chuck Bass before I drift back to sleep, satisfied.
~*~*~*~*~*~*~
8:11 a.m.
He's nervous. His jaw is clenched, his shoulders tensed and his eyes a muddy brown. Chuck Bass is never nervous; he's brash and bold and dangerously sexy – but never nervous.
I lift my left hand to palm his cheek, water from the shower we're standing in dribbles from his wet hair and down my arm. "You ok?"
A muscle in his jaw twitches as I stroke his cheek. He flicks a quick glance at my palm before nodding jerkily, "fine."
~*~*~*~*~*~*~
We'd been celebrating our impending graduations from Yale and Dartmouth respectively, he with a red head and I with a succession of two finger scotches, when I drunkenly – and stupidly – asked him how he would have popped the question had I not deflowered her in the back of my now favourite mode of transportation. He motioned widely with the arm he'd slung around the scantily clad, buxom redhead (a nurse by the name of Claire who was remarkably intelligent for her dress length), spilling Tequila down her bare arm, and slurred, "I dunno dude. Prolly woulda hadta rent out Tiffany's and buy a horse 'n carriage. Name the horse 'Cat' or somethin."
I scoffed, "Somehow I can't quite fathom B relishing that proposal." My inebriated vocabulary and annunciation are far superior to the resident golden boy's, most likely from years of experience in the field.
Insulted, he posited another possible scenario. "Surrounded by rowses under the Eifflel Tower."
I laughed so hard I sprayed the sip of scotch I'd just taken through my nose.
Claire's red chiffon mini dress had turned three shades darker under the amount of booze Elmer Fudd had spilt on it. "Hokay, smarts panties. How would you popose?"
~*~*~*~*~*~*~
He's distracted. I'm standing in front of him naked, water sliding down my pert breasts and turned on as hell, and he's distracted. If I could see the sky right now I'm sure it would be falling.
"Chuck?" I ask, stepping forward to loop my arms around his neck and press my breasts against his hairy chest.
"Hmm?" he mumbles, his arms automatically encircling my waist to trace patterns the length of my back.
"Fuck me," I whisper in his ear. And I have him at full attention… in more ways than one.
He pins me roughly against the tiles, his lips crushed to mine, and knees apart my thighs. He slips a hand between our water slicked bodies to finger my clit. "Somebody's in a mood today," he drawls huskily in my ear when he feels just how wet and ready I am.
I nod, unable to find my voice, and buck my hips frantically against his hand.
"You want it pretty badly, huh?" he smirks arrogantly, sliding a finger inside me.
"Yes," I manage to pant, not wanting to prologue the wriggling ecstasy on this particular morning, "Right now."
~*~*~*~*~*~*~
"I'm going to slip it on her finger when she's asleep," I answered simply, and took a healthy sip of scotch to keep the nervous butterflies I refused to acknowledge in my stomach company.
He cackled like a hyena on Meth until even the combination of copious amounts of liquor and natural cluelessness couldn't stop the light from dawning inside his blonde head. "Woa – wait," he sputtered at a volume louder than he most likely would have sober; "…you're popping the…seriously?"
~*~*~*~*~*~*~
He flips me around so that my back is pressed to his chest, his erection rubbing tauntingly against my ass. He tangles a hand in my hair and yanks my head to the side. "Patience, love," he chides, sinking his teeth into the side of my neck. Shivers of painful pleasure radiate through my body and pulse between my thighs. "Hands on the wall, Waldorf," he orders, his voice thick with his own heavy need.
I obey immediately; if there is one thing Chuck Bass knows it's how to bring Blair Waldorf excruciating pleasure. Eyes closed in anticipation, I spread my palms against the tiles and he freezes for a split second behind me, but I'm too far gone to notice.
"Yea, baby. Just like that," He breathes, raking his hands up the length of my arms to my shoulders and down my back. He grabs my hips, bending me slightly at the waist to angle me forward and grind his shaft against my slick folds.
"Please…" I pant, moving to bring my own hand down between my legs to where he refuses to burry himself inside me.
"Ah, ah, ah," he scolds, capturing my left hand and pinning it to the shower wall beneath his, "not so fast."
I moan and rock my hips, rubbing myself against the length of him. I'm so ready that the sweet friction alone nearly pushes me over the edge.
"I want you inside me," I beg, my breathing labored, "NOW."
~*~*~*~*~*~
Nathaniel choked on thin air and I grinned ear to ear, a blush I vigorously deny, but that he will die claiming he remembers, heating my cheeks. Though how a man who needed to be informed at thirteen that Santa Claus was indeed fictional, and that 'at gun point' was how a person was mugged and not where, could discern drunk flush from nervously excited flush, I'll never know.
"Woa," he repeated, forgetting the redhead beneath his arm and moving to swipe his hand down his face. Claire rose, politely excusing herself to the ladies' room to escape Elmer and his dribble cup.
Focused on Nathaniel, I nodded, grin still in place, and pulled out the ring I secretly had been carrying around in my pocket since her eighteenth birthday.
"That's…" my wasted best man-to-be choked out.
"Yea…" I acknowledged, "my mother's ring."
~*~*~*~*~*~
He chuckles into the hollow of my neck at my impatient demand and releases my hips to palm my breasts, "Good things cum to those who wait." He strokes the pad of his thumbs against my tingling nipples at a tantalizing slow pace. I moan low in my throat and he abandons my nipples abruptly to again grasp my hips with both hands, jerking me backwards forcefully onto his erection. I cry out, blissful pressure emanating throughout my body until, just as quickly, he's pulled himself from me.
"Uhhh" I groan in frustration, throwing my head back against his shoulder. His deep, mocking laugh rumbles in his chest against my back and I throb with need where he'd filled me to the hilt only moments ago. He sighs into my hair, ghosting a gentle kiss to my temple and the mood shifts subtly.
My voice low and husky, I whisper; "Make love with me."
~*~*~*~*~*~
We shot and killed the elephant in the room with a simple; "Thank God is you 'n not me," and ordered two celebratory bottles of both Tequila and Scotch.
Halfway through the second bottle of Scotch he asked me how I knew she was it for me. I shrugged a drunken shoulder and slurred for the first time since I was eight, "Jusdoo."
He made a motion with his head that would have been a nod about bottle and a half of Tequila ago, "Always did."
Why the fuck man Barbie's powers of perception only seem to be alcohol induced while the rest of us don beer goggles, and make decisions right up there with rubbing A535 on our balls and fucking Georgina Sparks, is beyond me. God is most likely a woman. I drunkenly wonder if she's hot. Brown doe eyes, chestnut curls, porcelain skin, ruby lips… oh yea, God is definitely my kinda woman.
"Guess so," I shrugged, because though I could pinpoint the exact moments when I'd begun to accept it, and when I'd tumbled over the edge, fully giving into it; the precise moment in which Blair Waldorf had become my fate eluded me.
Nathaniel tilted his wobbly head to the side and giggled in a squeaky voice, "I wuz in wuv with Blair, 'n I'm sowee. Pwease forgive me, Natey."
"Alright, alright that's enough – Natey," I drawled, knocking over our now empty bottle of Scotch as I waved off his antics.
"I'm Chuck Bass 'n I'm in love with Cornelius Wadorf." He continued despite my protests, his eyes glassy and grin toothy.
"Cut it out Fitzwilly," I stuttered, waving one of the four hands I was seeing at his fugly fringe, "or I'll unbang your man."
"Mrs. and Mr. Cornelius Wadorf," he giggled like a twelve year old girl, ignoring my very sloshed and badly executed threat, "That is, if she doesn't kill you 'n your seep for poposing in hers!"
"Says the ass smart who bought'er Texas Chainsaw Massacre as an aninversaray gif!" And I'm nearly positive, like a petulant five year old, I stuck my tongue out at him.
The cackling hyena wandered back into the bar then; a lot drunker and a hundred times more annoying. "She's gunna fucking detest it bro, I'll book yur testical retrieval surgery now," he proclaimed slapping a palm to the sticky table before his head lolled down beside it, unconscious; the detested fringe plastered against his face.
"S'exuse me, Miss?" In love and drunk Chuck is respectfully polite to women, I've discovered. The passing waitress nodded and I continued, "Scissors for me please, and tab for gone-zo over here." She nodded like she had understood but brought me a steak knife instead. Some people should just be required to or wear stupid signs.
Or die their hair blonde.
~*~*~*~*~*~
He drops a tender kiss to my shoulder and tilts my hips forward to grant himself better entrance to where I want him most, "Always." My head falls forward in delight between my still raised arms as he slowly guides his length inside me. My eyes roll back in my head and my toes curl as he runs a palm against the sensitive skin on my spine, slowly sets the slow rhythm of our love making. I roll my hips in time with his and can feel him harden further inside me, our impending peaks nearly upon us. A moan slips from my lips to mingle with his in the heavy cloud of steam encircling us. He reaches a hand down between my legs and presses a finger to my nub, fireworks exploding instantly behind my closed eye lids. He grunts as the heavenly waves of sheer bliss wracking my body draw an answering release from him. Sated, he pulls himself from me and wraps his arms around my waist. I sigh contentedly, snuggling back into his chest and hug his arms to me.
"Marry me" he demands against my neck in a soft whisper, all earlier traces of nervousness gone from his voice.
My heart stops beating in my chest and my eyes fly open. I move to twist in his arms and face him, but something blue and sparkly, and on my finger, catches my eye.
"What…how…" I stutter, staring at the simple, yet exquisitely beautiful sapphire nestled in a white gold band around the finger on my left hand where his promise ring used to sit.
He turns my stunned form in his arms and smirks, "Where, when, why?"
I raise shocked brown eyes to mischievous amber ones, "You little mother chucker."
He chuckles, "Oh, come on, Waldorf." He sneaks a quick kiss from stunned lips that automatically (and traitorously) respond in kind. I've decided that had I been more coherent I would have bit him - "Like you'd say no to Chuck Bass." - and bit him hard.
Mostly, because he's right and I won't – can't – say no to him. Not even when the Basshole ambushes me during the best sex of my life with a proposal – if you can even call what he did 'proposing'.
I find that, despite myself, I am crying tears of joy and grinning as my head bobs up and down, "Yes."
He smiles a genuine smile I think I have seen grace his lips all of four times and moves to pepper my face with kisses, but I stop him with a palm to his chest, "On one condition."
He quirks a suspicious eyebrow, "What's that?"
I cross my arms against my naked breasts and point to the ceramic floor, "Ask me properly."
"You want me to get on my knees in the shower and propose to you." He rolls his eyes exaggeratedly, "Again?"
I merely glare at him.
He sighs and shakes his head incredulously.
"On one knee," I quip at the top of his dark head as he lowers himself to the floor.
My loving fiance grins devilishly but I don't catch it. I'm too busy examining the gorgeous engagement ring as I slip it from my finger to pass it down to him. It looks suspiciously like the engagement ring in the photos of his parents wedding that I surreptitiously snuck a peak at this morning while heshowered.
But I don't tell him that, or anything else for that matter, because the Basstard's tongue against my still sensitive sex is making me forget my name is Blair Waldorf.
I make a mental note to add a second, hyphen related condition to my acceptance of his proposal before I can't think about anything else but shoving my fingers through his hair and moaning.
A/N THANK YOU to everyone who has been reviewing, they make my day and will me through bouts of writer's block. Yes, the vase, Blair's self loving and all the other ones you perceptively picked out WHERE references in the last chap. :)
If you are wondering when I'll get to updating TTE, hopefully this weekend. Thanks for being patient!
Lynne
