A/N: I HAVE BEEN WAITING FOR THIS SINCE LIKE CHAPTER FOUR GUYS. BE EXCITED.


Things panned out differently the second (err, technically the fifth) time around. No one was cheating. No one was drunk.

They were actually together. As a couple. For real. So it didn't seem so low and dirty. (Only one of the two would be even briefly concerned about seeming low and dirty.)

Also, the addition of a bed was nice. Less butt-chafing-against-the-door-handle-please, less oops-did-you-just-get-that-on-the-leather-interior-ew, less excuse-me-but-what-about-your-driver-up-there.

More clichés, which wasn't necessarily a bad thing. (He'd actually put on mood music, oh God.)

The lack of a burning scotch throat and burning guilt the morning after was a definite plus as well.

She actually felt self-conscious, to be honest. It was an odd feeling, in relation to him. Not like being naked helped.

"You're beautiful," he whispered, mouth just touching the soft spot directly below her ear where the cartilage and jawbone melded together to create a hollow, taut cavern. It tickled. "I love you." Her stomach flipped. She ran her hands across his back, fingernails grazing his lower back.

He shivered.

"You don't have to say that," she replied. "You're the one that swiped my V-card, remember." Ignoring her protests, he grasped her wrist, hitting about three pulse points. She kissed his shoulder. Laughing at the erratic, pounding pulse in her veins, he closed his eyes and lowered himself on top of her body.

"I love you," he repeated, moving in for what her ninth-grade health teacher had referred to solely as "The Kill." Which reminded her, actually…

Blair elbowed him in the stomach, hard.

"Ow, what the hell?"

Chuck would whine in this situation.

"Oh, no you don't," she told him. "Condom first, Romeo."