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Chapter 5: Sick Muse

Watch out Cupid
Stuck me with a sickness
Pull your little arrows out
Let me live my life

-Metric

Chuck gazed absentmindedly out the window of his limo, watching as the city skyline gave way to outer boroughs, then suburbs, and finally the opulent, beautifully-landscaped oceanfront mansions of East Hampton. He'd spent most of the ride attempting to get his thoughts into some semblance of order, a task made difficult by the lingering side-effects of his long, sleepless flight and subsequent Ambien-induced coma.

The issue wasn't how he would treat Nate and Blair as a couple- his standard combination of amused skepticism and bored indifference, with the occasional eye-rolling, would suit just fine. But the question of how to deal with Blair, more specifically how to behave towards her once they inevitably found themselves alone together, was a trickier one- made even more so by her behavior at Bart's wedding and her numerous attempts to contact him since then. The last text he'd gotten appeared to say something about missing him, although the drunken jumble of letters suggested that she probably wouldn't even remember sending it. He hadn't responded, of course, although for some reason he still hadn't deleted it.

Either way, it seemed obvious that Blair was interested in renewing the friendship they'd had, before she'd slept with him, involved him in a clandestine affair behind his best friend's back, told him to go to hell, ditched him for said best friend, thought she might be pregnant with his baby, and then told him to go to hell about ten more times. Easier said than done, Waldorf.

Now, with Serena back on the Dan Humphrey train, and Nate undoubtedly being the same clueless and inattentive boyfriend he'd always been, he knew she was probably running short on confidants- leaving him as the only remaining option. But as thoroughly heartwarming as that sentiment was, Chuck was neither quick to forgive nor desperate for friends. Blair, he decided, would just have to suck it up and deal.

"Anyone want another drink?" Serena called out from the patio, waving her daiquiri glass in their direction.

"No thanks." Dan replied distractedly. As if that were even necessary, Blair thought. She couldn't recall ever seeing him with an alcoholic beverage, and he wasn't being any more fun than usual this afternoon.

"I'll have a strawberry mango. Thanks, S." She briefly contemplated the position of the afternoon sun, feeling her stomach clench with anticipation. "Actually, make it a double."

She knew damn well that a Serena-style double-daiquiri involved upending most of a bottle of rum into the blender, but her nerves were shot to hell. Every time the patio door opened, her heart practically jumped into her throat, and she'd been rereading the same page of her novel for almost half an hour now.

Casting a sideways glance at Dan, who was still scribbling away in his little notebook, she sighed in irritation. Serena had made a point of telling her how badly Dan felt for his ill-timed joke about Chuck yesterday, how she knew he hadn't meant to upset Blair, and how she really, really , really hoped the two of them could get along, please. Since Nate was busy with his family for the afternoon, she supposed now was as good a time as any to broker some sort of cease-fire.

"So, is that your… dream journal?" Okay, that came out sounding more disdainful than she'd intended.

Dan paused and glanced up at her, trying to figure out if he was being mocked. She sighed, setting her book down on the table and tried again. "Are you writing something for your internship?"

"Yeah, I… I'm finally making some progress on my story. I've had a pretty bad case of writer's block most of the summer," Dan admitted. "If I don't get this done soon, there's no way I'm getting a good recommendation, and a letter from someone like Jeremiah Harris could really make or break my Yale application."

Blair nodded her head in understanding. If nothing else, relentless academic ambition was their one common ground. "What's it about?"

To her surprise, Dan appeared to flush slightly with embarrassment. "Umm, well, it's… it's about Serena."

Blair groaned inwardly. "Wasn't your piece in the New Yorker about Serena too?"

"Well, she's an interesting character study," Dan responded defensively. "And it's not just about Serena, it's… it's an outsider's perspective on the Upper East Side. A look at how unlimited wealth and privilege provide a breeding ground for… corruption, and nepotism, and moral apathy."

Of course Dan Humphrey would turn his lovesick Serena ramblings into some sort of judgmental morality play, Blair thought to herself.

"You do appreciate the irony of writing your proletarian rant from the pool deck of a multi-million-dollar estate, I hope," she commented dryly, glancing around at the immaculately manicured grounds and white pillared façade of the Rhodes family summer home.

Dan chuckled, a self-deprecating smile on his face. "Well, I figure it's not as hypocritical as long as I continue being socially awkward and totally out of my league."

"Fair enough." Well, at least he realized it. Speaking of Serena, had she gotten lost on her way back from the kitchen?

"So… I'm sorry about what I said yesterday. I was just joking around, but… I shouldn't have said it." Dan mumbled, not making eye contact. Blair eyed him suspiciously, but he seemed genuine, if still somewhat terrified of her. As he should be.

"Don't worry about it, Humphrey. It's possible I may have… overreacted a bit," she allowed.

"So are you okay with this?" At her puzzled look, he clarified. "Him being here, it won't be… uncomfortable for you?"

Blair stiffened slightly, annoyed at another unwelcome intrusion into her private life. "It'll be fine. We're still friends, we've always been friends. Nothing's going to change."

Her tone brokered no further discussion on the matter, so Dan just nodded, clearly unconvinced.

Luckily, Serena chose that moment to rejoin them, bearing two elaborately-garnished fruity drinks. "Sorry I took so long! We ran out of rum." She smiled apologetically.

"So what did you put in this?" Blair took a quick, testing sip of her frozen beverage, coughing immediately as the intense agave flavor hit the back of her throat. "Tequila, Serena, really? Are we on a spring break party bus in Cancún?"

"Oh come on, B, don't act like you've never had a tequila shot before. Or was that someone else in the limo after Snowflake ball sophomore year?" Serena teased. "Cheers!" She clinked their glasses together, and Blair responded with a resigned smile, trying not to grimace as she sipped her vaguely Taco-Bell-flavored daiquiri.

"How's your story coming, Dan?" Serena perched at the bottom of his deck chair, craning her neck over the top of his notebook. "And when do I get to read it?"

"I told you, not until it's finished." Dan snapped the notebook shut, grinning affectionately at her. Serena made a grab for it, initiating a tickle fight that left the two of them giggling like idiots, and Blair wishing her drink had more tequila in it.

She slid her oversized sunglasses back down onto her nose, hoping the dark tint would obscure her derisive expression- as well as the increasing sense of apprehension that must be written all over her face.

Several hours and several Serena-daiquiris later, Blair found herself in a remarkably cheerful mood. Nate had arrived and was currently swimming laps in the pool, and her now-slightly-fuzzy brain wasn't having any better luck reading, so she just relaxed and watched him. As his broad shoulders and muscular back moved through the water, sunlight glistening off bronzed skin, she thought to herself how incredibly lucky she was… because really, the boy was just too pretty for words.

Eventually Nate hauled himself out of the water, strolling back over towards the deck chairs as he dried off. The rough toweling left his golden brown hair in disarray, and Blair leaned over to muss it up further with her fingers, giggling as she did so.

"What's gotten into you?" Nate asked with a boyish grin, ducking to avoid another pass.

"I've just missed seeing you smile, that's all." She smiled back, taking another slurp of her tasty strawberry-mango concoction.

Nate nodded, his smile fading a little as his eyes cast downward. "Yeah, I'm sorry I've been so distracted lately. I know I haven't been the best boyfriend."

"Don't apologize, I know you've had a lot on your mind." Blair touched his shoulder affectionately. "I just want you to know I'm here, if you want to talk or… anything."

"Well…" Nate sighed. "There isn't much to tell at this point. But I know my mom is really worried. She's getting all this pressure to help with the investigation, but she hasn't had any luck convincing my dad to turn himself in. And now she's afraid they're going to use financial pressure to force him out of hiding, which would leave us with… well, nothing."

Blair's lips parted in shock. "They can… do that? Just take your mom's money?"

"Well, it's not just her money, it's his too. And since he's a fugitive, I guess they have the legal right to freeze his accounts. I just… I don't know what we would do." Nate ran his fingers through his hair, the stress and worry evident on his face.

"If you need anything, Nate, you know my family would be happy to help," Blair said earnestly, taking his hand in hers and twining their fingers together. "We're all here for you."

"Thanks, that's very sweet." Nate smiled, squeezing her hand. "Please don't say anything about this to anyone, though. My mom… well, she'd be humiliated if everyone knew."

"Of course not, I won't say a word," Blair promised.

She lapsed into silence, contemplating this new piece of information. Even though she was heartened by Nate finally confiding in her, she couldn't fathom the idea of him being left penniless. How could anyone justify punishing their entire family for the Captain's sins? They'd been hurt and embarrassed so much already. Surely, Blair thought to herself, the Van der Bilts would step in long before things got to that point. Nate's grandfather valued family loyalty above all else, he wouldn't just stand by while his daughter and grandson suffered.

Her introspection was interrupted by the click of the patio door, followed by the sound of slow, unhurried footsteps.

"Nathaniel." The low drawl sent a shiver up Blair's spine.

"Hey man, you finally made it!" Nate grinned, rising from his chair and bestowing an enthusiastic one-armed man hug on his best friend. Blair stared down into her remnants of her brightly hued drink, trying desperately to gather her wits together. "Blair?" Nate's questioning voice broke through her preoccupation and she realized she hadn't even acknowledged their visitor.

"Hey Chuck!" Forcing a bright smile to her lips, she stood and turned to face him. "Good to have you back!"

Even having steeled herself, she was unprepared for the impact of meeting his gaze, his dark, fathomless eyes regarding her with an intensity that nearly took her breath away. Unfortunately, she'd already taken several steps toward him at this point, so she had no choice but to finish the motion with a requisite friendly hug. It's fine. We're still friends. Nothing's going to change.

Blair felt him stiffen in surprise as she wrapped her arms around him, although it was a gesture she'd made many times before. It was then that she remembered she was in a bathing suit, and that perhaps this had been an extremely bad idea. She could feel the heat from his body over every inch of her bare skin, her breasts pressed against his torso, the light scruff on his face brushing against her cheek. And he smelled… exactly the same. The intensely masculine aroma assaulted her senses, making her suddenly light-headed with arousal.

Feeling flushed from head to toe, Blair pulled back. "Did you want a daiquiri? Serena's making them with tequila, so they're terrible, but after 4 or 5 you don't really notice so much." She feigned a cheerful smile, looking anywhere but at Chuck.

"No thanks, I'm all set." He studied her for a moment before glancing back at Nate. "Speaking of Serena, where is my lovely stepsister?"

"She and Dan went for a walk in the gardens, they should be back any minute," Nate replied, returning to his lounger. "Have a seat, man, you look exhausted."

"I'm insulted, Nathaniel, I took special pains this morning to make myself pretty for you," Chuck drawled, leaning back on the white slatted chair and retrieving a pair of sunglasses from his pocket. "But yes, I've slept all of 4 hours in the last 48, and my body has no idea what time it's supposed to be, so I'm unlikely to be very… entertaining this evening."

"No worries, we have all week to make up for it," Nate responded, grinning mischievously. Blair sighed to herself, knowing from experience what that meant- her drunk and/or stoned boyfriend passed out in her lap in the back seat of a town car.

A moment of silence fell over the three as they relaxed, enjoying their spectacular view of the estate grounds, and Blair took the opportunity to study Chuck out of the corner of her eye. His hair was longer and slightly tousled, like he'd just been running his fingers through it, and he didn't appear to have gotten much sun this summer. Chuck was always more a fan of indoor activities, she thought, catching herself before her mind wandered any further in that direction. He was wearing some ridiculous polo shirt with sailboats all over it, boat shoes, and a pair of shorts that showed a lot of man-leg even by European standards… but as usual, he carried it all off with aplomb. And his eyes, hidden behind dark lenses, were almost certainly closed- she knew, for some reason, that she would've felt it if he'd been looking back at her.

"Hey Chuck!" Serena called out, strolling up the lawn hand-in-hand with Dan.

Chuck rose, sauntering towards the couple.

"Hey sis. Good to see you." He answered with a smirk, leaning in to greet her with a kiss on each cheek. In response to Serena's bemused expression, he offered saucily, "Just a little something I picked up abroad." He followed that up with a lascivious head-to-toe appraisal, clearly appreciative of her skimpy pink bikini under its sheer beach cover up.

A raised eyebrow and a "Humphrey." was the only acknowledgment he gave Dan, who was visibly fuming by Serena's side.

Blair felt a familiar despondent feeling in the pit of her stomach. Of course, every guy present was panting all over Serena and her shiny hair and her long legs and her stupid pink bikini top that was quite clearly a size too small. It had nothing to do, she told herself, with Chuck not even taking notice of her own swimsuit, even though it showed off all her best assets and the fact that she'd lost almost 5 pounds this summer. Even though I practically rubbed myself all over him in it, she thought, cringing in embarrassment.

"If you'll excuse me, I'm going to go get changed for dinner," Blair announced, not giving anyone a chance to respond before escaping back into the house. Hopefully she could locate some self-respect somewhere along the way.

At 7pm sharp, Blair made her way towards the dinner table laid out in the west garden, her heels clicking along the flagstone path. Her self-confidence boosted by an hour of careful primping, she smoothed down the folds of her green and white-flowered summer dress, a matching headband decorating her loose brown waves.

Nate smiled as he rose from the table to pull out her chair. "That's a pretty dress, Blair."

Batting her eyelashes in gratitude, she turned to survey the rest of the guests. CeCe and Lily were chatting over shrimp cocktails at one end of table, while Dan and Serena played some gross variation of footsie under the other end. Chuck lounged disinterestedly across from her, swirling a glass of what Blair might have thought was iced tea, if she didn't know better. Approving wholeheartedly of his stylish mint green suit and contrasting blue pocket square, she tried to catch his eye to tell him so, but found that he was once again deliberately avoiding looking in her direction. Feeling suddenly deflated, she took a sip of her iced tea. Hopefully it would take the edge off all those daiquiris.

"Bart was so sorry he missed you, Charles. He had an urgent situation come up with one of his investors, so he had to hurry back to the city this afternoon," Lily said apologetically, smiling at her stepson. He nodded in acknowledgment, staring down into the amber depths of his glass. "And I'm sure he's looking forward to catching up with you next week."

"I'm sure he is." Chuck didn't bother to hide the bitterness in his voice. After dragging him all the way back across the Atlantic and insisting that he attend this specific dinner, his father couldn't even be bothered to show up for it. If he didn't know better, he'd think Bart was deliberately avoiding him instead of just not giving a shit.

"Blair." CeCe cleared her throat. "You don't mind sleeping in Serena's room for the rest of the week, do you dear? We're running a bit short on rooms now, now that Charles has arrived."

"If you need someone to stay in Serena's room, that's a sacrifice I'd be willing to make," Chuck offered suggestively, spearing a piece of lettuce with his fork.

Serena rolled her eyes, while Lily and CeCe shot him admonishing glares and Dan tried to figure out some way to respond besides sputtering in indignation.

Blair just stared down at her hands, twisting her napkin into a pretzel. "I'd be happy to stay with Serena." She'd probably still end up with her own room, since Serena would just be downstairs boning Dan anyway, she figured.

"I'll let the staff know to move your things." CeCe nodded authoritatively.

The conversation continued onto more mundane topics, with Lily wanting to hear all about Chuck's experiences at Brighton, and his deliberately vague answers making it obvious that academic pursuits had been low on his priority list. Then there was a discussion of plans for the annual foundation brunch, followed by new landscaping ideas for the east garden and whether the ambiance might be enhanced by the addition of a fountain. Blair was only half-paying attention, distracted by the way a lock of brown hair curled up behind Chuck's ear, when she realized he was getting up to leave.

"Well, I'm feeling rather jetlagged, so if you'll excuse me, I'm going to retire for the evening. See you all at breakfast." After giving Nate a quick clap on the shoulder, Chuck headed back up towards the house. Blair watched him go, trying not to feel hurt by his continued avoidance, and attempting to quell the confused jumble of emotions swirling inside of her.

"Chuck."

He groaned in annoyance as the voice pierced through his comfortable fog of sleep, draping one arm over his eyes in an attempt to ward it off.

"Chuck." More insistent this time.

He groggily opened his eyes, only to be greeted by the sight of Blair Waldorf perched on the edge of his bed, bathed in a glow of moonlight and staring directly back at him. Was he dreaming? She appeared to be fully-dressed, so probably not. Well, almost fully-dressed. He took a moment to appraise her flowered cotton nightie, from the lacy scalloped neckline perched right above her breasts, to the short hem that was riding dangerously up her slim thighs. Based on the way the airy fabric skimmed over her body, it seemed unlikely she was wearing anything beneath it.

Swallowing tightly, he cleared his throat. "Can I help you, Waldorf?"

"I think we need to talk. About… how things are going to be between us," she replied, only the faintest quaver in her voice betraying anything but self-confidence.

He sat up against the headboard, rubbing his eyes and willing himself to wake up so could handle this situation with a clear head. "And this was so urgent you felt compelled to wake me up in the middle of the night?"

Blair rolled her eyes. "It's not even midnight, Chuck. And I had to corner you somewhere you couldn't just walk away and ignore me."

Chuck's eyes narrowed in response to her accusatory tone. "Yes, I do recall that you prefer to be the one doing the walking away and ignoring." Looking slightly discomfited by his stare, Blair twisted her fingers together in her lap.

"And of course you needed to choose a venue without your boyfriendin attendance," he continued, his voice growing increasingly cold. "I'm sure you also considered that I might be more… easily persuaded, when half-asleep and not fully in control of my faculties."

Blair exhaled in irritation, realizing that even a half-asleep Chuck Bass was still a worthy adversary. "That may have factored into my decision-making, yes."

"Well, if persuasion was your goal, I would've worn something a bit more… revealing," he replied pointedly, giving her demure little nightgown another once-over and enjoying the resulting flush that spread from her breasts up to her neck.

"Yes, well…" Blair paused to regroup, fighting the urge to cross her arms over her chest and considering that perhaps appeasement was a better strategy. "About my… behavior last year. I am very… sorry, about that."

Honestly, it was one of the least sincere apologies he'd ever heard, but he had to give her some credit for trying. After all, Blair Waldorf wasn't prone to bouts of remorse.

Chuck nodded in acknowledgment, if not exactly acceptance. "And so what is it you want from me, exactly?" He looked away, affecting an air of disinterest.

"I just want us to be friends again. Or at least… civil to each other," she replied resolutely. "For Nate's sake."

"Friends for Nate's sake?" Chuck eyed her with skepticism.

Blair nodded firmly, as if entirely convinced that this was the best course of action. "Friends," she repeated. "I don't know how much he's told you, but Nate's been going through a lot with his family, and it could… well, it could get even worse. He really needs both of us right now."

Chuck sighed. Self-sacrifice really wasn't in his nature, but he would feel like the world's biggest douche if he told her to fuck off after that touching little speech.

"Fine," he responded, forcing a note of indifference into his voice. "We can be friends."

Blair gave him a small smile and looked down again, as if trying to find the right words. "Friends who keep certain… past indiscretions… to themselves?"

"Blair." He exhaled in irritation. "I'm not an idiot. I may not particularly care about Nathaniel's opinion of you, but I'd really rather not get myself punched in the face."

Blair chuckled softly, suddenly looking more relaxed than he'd seen her all day. "Then we're agreed. Truce?" She held out a hand in his direction, looking at him expectantly.

He stared down at it for just a moment before engulfing her hand in his much larger one. The satiny skin caressed his own, a visceral reminder of those same delicate hands stroking against his neck, sliding down his chest, clenching into his back- and he felt a crackle of electricity pass between them, stirring a sudden burst of arousal deep within him.

Inhaling sharply, Blair pulled her hand back as if she'd been bitten, looking anywhere but at Chuck.

"Well, I should get back to my room," she said breathlessly, hopping up off his bed and making a beeline for the door. Once there, she paused briefly, glancing back at him. "Goodnight, Chuck."

"Goodnight Blair," he replied, watching her slip out and close the door behind her.

Sighing deeply, he laid back down on the bed, propping the pillow beneath his head and staring at the ceiling. Friends. Fan-fucking-tastic. It was like the whole universe was conspiring to dangle the one girl he wanted and couldn't have right in front of his face, just to see how long it took him to crack. How long before his already limited restraint gave out and he did something to completely embarrass himself… which he nearly had already, but thankfully Blair had been too distracted by their conversation to notice his raging hard-on.

That was the extent of it, of course- the appeal of forbidden fruit. There was no other logical explanation why he was still lying there exhausted and unable to sleep, imagining what could have happened if he'd just reached over and slid the strap of her nightgown down one shoulder, trailing after it with his mouth… then kissing across the soft skin of her bare collarbone, back up her neck to that spot behind her ear, sucking on it until she whimpered and arched against him.

Realizing he was no closer to falling asleep, and rather enjoying the direction this was headed, he reached down to free his throbbing erection from the confines of his pajama pants. Stroking himself firmly, he let his mind wander back to that other shoulder strap, sliding it down to reveal her perfect, rosy-tipped breasts. He cupped them in his hands, teasing her nipples into tight buds, before lowering his head to taste one. Her hand reached down to caress him, wrapping her fingers around his cock and stroking, gently at first, up and down his shaft until he grew even harder in her grasp. Working him with increasing speed, she knelt between his legs, silky brown curls swaying against her naked breasts, her soft hands creating a delicious friction that was pushing him rapidly towards the brink. One last stroke of his swollen head and he felt himself come undone, jerking uncontrollably as he groaned in release.

Finally spent, Chuck relaxed back against the pillows, only slightly perturbed that he'd gotten off before making it past third base in his own imagination.

A/N: Sounds like the beginning of a beautiful friendship… or possibly, a total clusterfuck.

Thanks again to my fantastic beta, Terrabeth, without whom this chapter would've been significantly less awesome and about 90% less smutty.

I hope this foray into S1/S2 is a welcome respite from the ridiculousness of S4 right now. Let me know if you're enjoying it!