1.

Keep your friends close, and your enemies closer.

Blair didn't miss him specifically.

She absolutely did not miss his arrogance, nor that self-complacent, hedonistic smug that all of a sudden looked perfect to hit hard and with a full hand. His lies, his wrongs, his making her hurt for days and for nights. Oh, all that she could well do without. Summer in Paris had been good to her and some of those stinging wounds had slowly healed, at least enough to let her move on. Enough to channel that pain into a fiery anger, like fuel to combustion. She hated him now, plain and simple.

That would explain how the previous night she did nothing more than burning off exactly that feeling. It just happened that she did it together with him. A mere coincidence that went on repeatedly, for a good number of times. And it had been a whole other level of fireworks.

What she did miss, it appears, was that godsend instrument that the heavens and the devil decided to place in his pants, and by doing so curse her forever with it. Those large hands of velvet counted their miracles, too. They withheld a sensorial memory that never forgets anything, and not an inch of her body is ever left forgotten when they're nearby. And those long, stretching fingers, so much that she'd naively thought them way too big to fit her tiny body before those first one-on-one car rides proved her wrong.

Not to mention those full lips and generous tongue that were currently creating a glorious mess between her legs. For the second time around that morning as well after Serena walked into her room unannounced and had her choke back her climax. But Blair stil enjoyed that. It reminded her of the good old times when the itch would hit them so abruptly that it forced them to risk getting caught by anyone unlucky enough to be around them, no matter when or where.

And then her conscience started to fail her. Before she could look back to those fun memories, once more her thoughts turned to fog as her body grew louder on her mind and shakier in her chest. She couldn't believe it was happening again. Increasing and overwhelming this time, not just a quick burst. He was making sure it would be exquisite for her.

If her breath wasn't so caught up in the formation of a heady moan, she would've cussed him out for this. Hadn't she been so close to squeal in pleasure she would have groaned his name in frustration. But then it all rose and spread, so fully and relentlessly that something in her throat contracted on her uneven breath. Among other things. She felt herself fall, crumble over that sweet edge as if it had never happened hundreds of times before. Blair could merely resign to shut her eyes tight, tight like her teeth cutting into her lower lip, tight like her toes curled as stone in her silken sheets that now definitely needed a deep wash, preferably far away from Dorota's judging eyes.

Her eyes fluttered back open when she felt the weight of his pretty head lift and hover on her stomach. She was liquid and sighing in bliss as she descended from her high, but only until his insufferable, proud face again emerged from under the duvet and instantly yanked her back to reality. His lips were swollen and glistening. Blair inhaled and rocked her head, silencing that part of her that wanted to kiss them and taste herself off that smirk.

'You didn't have to, but thanks are in order, I suppose'. She cleared her throat and realized that it was dried out.

'Please,' Chuck husked. His breath was warm, thick and sweetish. She felt it blow on her stomach through her thin black slip, right where her eyes were fixed so she wouldn't have to look at his face. So he wouldn't see the rosy flush on her cheeks and the light she knew was swirling in her eyes. He had long lost the right to enjoy that sort of sight.

'Don't mistake my talent for generosity. Do you really think you were the only one taking pleasure from it? That first round was fragmentary and abridged and an artist, a perfectionist like me, never leaves his work incomplete.'

If there really had been a moment when Blair wanted to rake her fingers through his disheveled bed hair, hearing those last few words only had her hands on pins and needles. She had to stop herself from slapping him, afraid that it would only trigger something most definitely making her miss her morning classes.

'I almost forgot what a self-absorbed prick you were. You didn't save my life, you just made me come.' she snapped, propping herself higher against her bedframe in a quick attempt to distance their bodies. Only then she noticed how sticky she truly was, and she wanted to scream.

'I did. Precisely four times only since the moon swapped its place with the sun.' He smacked his lips then smiled; her hands grew itchier. There was something in that throaty, confident voice that made him repulsive, but very much despite herself she felt something coil in the pit of her stomach. She needed him out of her room, and fast. She couldn't tell where her vexation ended and her lust started, they sort of met halfway through her body.

'Whatever Chuck, fun's over. Today is a new day and we can go back to ignoring each other. Last night was a slip. An unrepeatable, one-off series of slips.'

Chuck hummed in endorsement, with his top lip slightly twisted at the corner. 'I couldn't agree more. We don't have any more pending business left to take care of after this'.

With a loud grunt, he lifted himself from under the rumpled sheets and leaped off the mattress, but not for a moment did he shift his gaze from her. And for once Blair couldn't quite read it. His eyes usually never diverged from what his mouth would say, unlike hers, yet she couldn't see any trace of that same annoying, sneering attitude he had displayed so far. There was a familiar warmth along a clear, alight sexual appetite, but Blair was determined to ignore that, it was probably just her relaxed mind and her oxytocin fix making her see things.

Just like she metaphorically turned a blind eye to the much evident, lengthened shape she instantly noticed bobbing in his boxers. Chuck was hard, fully, and probably had been for a while. She thought he was exaggerating as per when he said he went down on her for his own pleasure too, but that was until she could spot the direct effect it had on him and one undoubted wet stain that made the fine cotton glued to his tip. Her bottom lip had dropped a few.

'Don't use the bathroom.' Blair shook herself away from her voyeuristic scrutiny and back into control as he approached the door to her ensuite. She sounded more outraged than she'd planned, but she just didn't want him in there. Before everything, he would sometimes get up first and start running the water for a bath for two as if they hadn't just spent the night in each other's arms. She enjoyed awaking to the sounds of him busy in her house; her privacy was also his and it made her feel like he was getting their future ready along with that foamy treat. But that was a scene that belonged in the past and she wanted to cut ties with it. And Chuck was no longer allowed in her bathroom.

'Uh, Serena might still be in her room' she lowered her tone.

'Of course. I wasn't going there anyways' he sighed, pointing to an indistinct shadow on the carpet that morphed into his pair of black pants and crumpled blood red shirt.

Good, he was leaving already. Weird how she was absolutely sated and yet she could sense a frustration build up right where it had poked her for the past weeks. Like a tiny pebble under the foot that she couldn't get out of her shoe. It bugged her in the worst way. They had hooked up so many times before dating, like the great friends with benefits they were. It wasn't a new thing, so why was this moment so awkward? Blair picked up her phone from the nightstand and distracted herself, scrolling aimlessly and giving herself something to avoid looking at him. She only so much as crossed her legs when she heard him struggle to zip up.

'Goodbye Blair', he simply nodded at the threshold, then he was gone.

She tossed her phone away and dived face down into the pillow.

She couldn't recall one of the words they had just exchanged in anger before he tore apart that stupid, amicable settlement.

Her whole being was occupied by the feeling of his hand suddenly at the side of her neck. He got hold of her in such an abrupt reaction that it had her whole body flinching in anticipation. What on earth was he going to do with her now? Fight or flight. Except there was no chance for the latter.

Her mind was just white noise, overdrive. They glared at each other while time had halted its course, the energy around them was galvanized, as if directly exuded from their tensed bodies and harsh voices. Their mutual aversion lingered and leaked through the air, it was tangible, scorching on their skin. It felt like they both were on the brink of shattering in a million pieces. A nuclear mess bearing the Waldorf-Bass union on its breaking reactor.

But what happens when the impossible happens? When two repelling magnets charged with the same atoms paradoxically crash onto one another instead of thrusting away in opposite, repelling forces. The answer to such a physical glitch came on its own; with her arm hooking tightly to his shoulder, falling into his chest with unexpected strength as he pressed her into him in return. She was a mirror to his same fire and movements. He was an echo to her hunger and intensity. All automatisms.

His hand ghosted away from her neck to shoot down to her ass, grabbing and pressing as if he needed to make his intentions or thoughts any clearer. A little cry escaped her as he suddenly pushed her up, smooth and rapid like she weighed nothing more than the dress she was in. She felt the heels of her stilettos almost slip off her feet as she found herself hoisted up on the cold, lacquered surface of her mother's grand concert Yamaha.

And that was pretty much the last thing her consciousness registered discerningly, sequentially, before shutting off and letting her most pressing instincts and needs take over. What took place next was mere chaos.

It started with his hands travelling up and down her exposed back, tangling her long hair in his discourteous fingers and bringing, tearing along with them the black laces that held her couture piece together. Both the colours and fabric matched his own. Chuck noticed it when his other hand pulled her gorgeous wine red gown up her thighs, setting himself closer in the space Blair had already prepared for him between them. His touch raced on her skin with impatience and frustration, with an insistence that straight away let her imagine what was to come. She let her own hands take possession of him too, but only after she let go of the collar she kept pulled tightly on his throat. He enjoyed that.

Lips and hands were all fighting a different war; while it was an effort to separate the first, it was impossible to keep the latter close. His palms were on her back, on her ass, on her neck and on her bare breasts, at last freed and fallen into his greedy clutch. He let his thumb stroke over them first, to which she did little reaction. Blair then moaned when his nails started to dig. She was frantic and wild in his arms, and she needed her perfect match.

Her hands left his hair and shoulders only to scratch down his arms and get rid of that obstructing, neat jacket of his that nothing but jarred with the movements and noises they both were making.

Caught in the motion, his ruthless grasp at last got to her stockings. Blair was still too covered, and he was too much of an aching fool still strangled in his pants. It took him less than a breath to rip her black Wolfords into a thin scrap of nylon, similarly to the papers that laid destroyed at their feet.

When her legs locked around his strong body, clenched and possessive, she felt him pulse against her. Chuck was searing, made of stone, and even bigger than she'd remembered him. That sensation had her hands rush to his front, desperately, where she made quick work of his leather belt before letting it fall to the floor as her other hand unzipped him.

Her hand was feverish, warm and controlling just like he knew she would be. He growled and twitched in her grasp. She stroked him with no kindness in her movement, she was doing it for herself first. She wanted to come first too. Chuck groaned louder as he grew only more frustrated and harder in her palm, if that was even possible. He sank his face onto her neck and his teeth on her collarbone, nipping her as his fingers found the wet, thin lace that barely covered her. He was met with the outline of her swollen folds behind and around the drenched underwear, and he could've come there and then wasn't he so keen on taking her on that polished piano.

'Are you going to pour yourself out in my hand, Chuck?' she breathed out. She smiled and he was outraged. Blair was over it, her ache became unbearable. She was demanding and greedy, and his reaction to her touch only made her more impatient. She couldn't stand him but she needed him inside of her and to the hilt.

His face immediately lined with hers again, he looked furious and ready to show her just about where he wanted to finish, and how. Blair blinked on her sultry eyes and grinned lightly, like a devil who's finally met an equal in hell. Her teasing smile only broke on a gasp when Chuck grabbed her wrist and took her hand away from his shaft. He brought her arm behind her and used Blair's own hand to pin her back steadily on the surface.

'I will do that exactly where I want to and where I know you need it' he bit back.

'We're not friends but we still can use each other. I'm sure that's what you want after all, although you smell strongly of desperation.' he huffed. His fingers were coated in her while lazily tracing along the thong that he had pulled to the side. Pig. Blair slapped him hard on the cheek to wipe that sneer off him before she was able form a sentence. Her nails scratched his jaw and then her lips caught his as she tugged him to her. He looked rabid, with eyes and a body that could destroy her, and she couldn't wait.

The first thrust was for him. Chuck leaned over her, keeping her in place on the black surface as he entered her with one strong, liberating push. It was both a relief and necessary torture; feeling her around him, burning and fitting him like a glove had him curse and draw his breath, a sharp blade in his throat. In a second it all clicked, set into a heavenly motion, and their sounds were loud and charged as their exasperation found a way out in the other. Both felt their nerves blaze in a shock as their bodies latched perfectly.

The second thrust was for her. He pulled out slowly and thrusted again slower, making sure to rub and stretch her in all the right places he knew like his own. She whimpered, mewled as she writhed under him. Then he felt her respond to him and gush out from where they were joined, so he started to push further.

The gasps in his ears and the nails in his back only encouraged him to pound into her faster, deeper. It felt like it would never be enough for either of them. Chuck struggled to control his rhythm, she was rough and clammy in his hands, and a warming, welcoming bliss to his front every time he'd pull back to thrust in again even more forcefully.

It took mere minutes before Chuck found that one delicious spot so far up into her that only he really knew how to hit, or had the necessary means to. Her lower body flinched, convulsed and it was overwhelming as he kept stroking her where it affected her the most. Her mind was so far lost in his relentless passion that she couldn't bother thinking about how she'd have to justify whatever she felt leaking out of her. It was out of control and Blair knew she'd still be crashing down her orgasm as it went on and turned into a second one.

She was famished but stubborn, she wanted to make it last as long as they both could. Because it would never happen again.

So she straightened herself against him, with her clutching hands reaching for his hair and her skin slippery on the mess she left behind. The way her body was giving him even more access now had him growl out in pleasure.

'Let it go, Blair' he rasped against her lips as he stole them in a rough kiss, 'I know you're about to'

'Not yet', her words were spit out in shaky, harsh breaths on his skin as she tightened her grasp behind his neck and bit down the side of it.

Chuck didn't even register what she said as his instinct already moved him the way she needed. He lifted her off the piano completely and then stepped past it until Blair's lustered back was up against the hard glass of the window that would now be showcasing them to their city. She cried out in surprise and the sudden cold contact sent more shivers down her spine.

He was holding her up fully, her legs were steel around him, and her body his abyss. Chuck let his tongue savour up the saltiness dribbling down her chest as he could finally use his hands to ravish it. He went in deep, up, and it devastated her without fault. He did that again, and then again when she choked on her breath. One more time and her head tilted back against the glass.

Blair at last let go of the narrow edge she was anchored to and shattered completely before the glass keeping her up would do it first. She let out a loud, wailing cry that was promptly silenced by the hand that rushed to cover her mouth together with hers. Her voice was the loudest and most out of control he's ever heard it, and that sound mixed with the hot breath it released onto his palm had him seeing red.

She kept coming, she melted in his arms; she melted on him and around him. Her body was still pulsing, clenching and he couldn't hold back anymore as he picked up his pace to prolong her pleasure. Her head was dizzy by the time she felt him shake and spill himself into her; Blair was left in extreme sensitivity and his slowing stroking was tingling her in the most delicious way. The only sound keeping her grounded to reality was an exhausted, low growl against the nook of her neck that muzzled his already weakened voice.

Then everything went still again, the storm had quieted and bodies, minds and heartbeats all calmed down; only the bright night outside with its lights and distant sounds pulled them back down from the sky high point they'd reached. Besides a sheer depiction of satisfaction, there was something different, indistinct glowing on their faces when they at last looked at each other again. Neither cared about what that was exactly, as long as they could still dash to her bed and repeat what they had just done over and over again, so that hopefully, maybe the night would never end.

A beeping, annoying sound coming from her room was telling her that the ending to her relaxing bath had to come. Blair was just annoyed that she didn't make it in time to do the same. Reluctant and frustrated, she moved her fingers away from where she had slid them, shamingly and deeply under the foam and just about between her thighs. What she needed was another night like the last one, the same one she had just been fantasizing about.

She liked to think she didn't miss the great sex, but it was a huge, fat lie. Blair couldn't stop feeling his greedy hands all over her, his tongue moving with hers, his lush breath blending with the sweat of her skin, his… The bathrobe wrapped around her body suddenly felt too constricting.

What if they did that just one more time, just to wrap it up and call it a day. Blair wondered if he was thinking the same thing, or simply reliving the same scenes as she distractedly brushed her hair. She caught a glimpse of the bright tinge on her cheeks and a tiny red mark just a few inches under it. Whatever happened some hours before was good for her, great even. Who cares if the direct, hot pulsing reason for it was her insufferable ex boyfriend who ruined her summer and most likely her life.

When she finally stood from her vanity she felt a liquid, swarming sensation flood in and tug her where she absolutely hoped she would never feel anything anymore. And it had a CB shaped stamp all over it.

'I'll just text him. He won't even reply anyway, but I need it for me and myself alone' she nodded to herself, resolute and convinced that "no strings attached" was in the cards for her and Chuck.

She picked up her phone to start typing some excuse to come back and share a glass of wine, but one big blue notification seemed to have already taken over the screen.

"Just wanted to wish you a happy birthday again. 20 looks good on you. See you on campus.

-C"

A/N

Hi yes this was -different. I tried to be blunt and the most honest to what I wanted to convey without sweetening the pill with evocative images. I feel like this moment and declension in their relationship needs a tone that matches it fully.

I will of course explore the rest of their hectic day with the next chapter and dive deep into Chuck's pov as well.

By the way, I might eventually make this story a place to publish some smutty one-shots or fun, quick scenes so please let me know what you think or wish for as usual! Was this anywhere near you guys' liking? I feel like I could push myself even further but I don't want to gross anyone out sooo thanks for reading, it always makes me all warm and fuzzy!