Disclaimer: I don't own Gossip Girl.
Author's Note: I got reviews! So it seems 6 more people than I figured like Blair and Carter. Always appreciative of feedback, I will of course take the advice that I write more Blair/Carter. It's probably no secret that I sort of love Carter and sometimes get a little put out by the way he's consistently villainized. Anyway … this won't be a Chapter fic, per se, more a collection of one-shots that could end on their own but also somewhat fit together. Read them alone, or read them together, either way I hope you enjoy them, and thank you in advance for any feedback.
-Sarah
Likesick.
"B?" Serena peers warily around the Waldorf kitchen, which appears to have been broken into, or destructed, or ... used. Gooey eggshells line the stainless steel sink and the entire room appears to be coated in a thick layer of flour and cinnamon. Serena gives a little yelp as she nearly sets her studded Burberry into a pile of melting chocolate chips, and then calls for her best friend again.
"Hi S!" Blair pops up from where she's been bent down, head in the oven, and Serena offers a much louder yelp and takes two steps backward, hand over her pounding heart.
"Blair! You scared me to death! What ... what are you ... are you baking?" She demands, taking in her friend's sugar-dusted ponytail and some incriminating chocolate on her bottom lip. Blair regards her blankly.
"Yes. I said I would be baking today."
"Yeah, but I thought when you said baking, you meant, you know, baking."
"I did!"
"Yeah, but like baking! Like Dorota would be baking, and we'd be doing something else, where you wouldn't, you know, get dirty."
"I'm not dirty," Blair shrugs. "I'm just … a very interactive baker."
"Are you wearing jeans?"
Blair looks down at the denim peeking from beneath her frilly red gingham apron and laughs lightly. "Oh, yeah, I wasn't, but I seem to drop a lot of things while baking and I kept getting my knees sticky crawling around on the floor, so - what?" she demands.
Serena shakes her head, holding up her hands in mock-surrender while cocking an amused eyebrow. "Nothing. What are we baking?"
XOXO
"I could call the fire department if you'd like," Carter offers as he walks into the Waldorf kitchen, coming to a halt as his eyes fall on Blair and Serena, cross-legged on the floor, hair white with flour, giggling hysterically and eating from a bag of chocolate chips as a pan full of indeterminable charcoal-colored lumps sits forgotten on the counter.
There's an increasingly familiar tug somewhere in his chest when he looks at Blair, her head thrown back and her dark eyes tearing, and a momentary sense of complete insecurity overwhelms him as he contemplates how to greet her here, now, in front of Serena.
This thing with him and Blair, it's sort of developed without any sort of discussion or plan, which he thinks is a bit out of character for her but pretty par for the course on his part.
The way he's somehow desperate of late to have some sort of discussion about the whole thing, though, while she just seems to laugh a lot more than he's ever remembered her doing and smile while she kisses him, is entirely foreign to him and increasingly leads to obnoxious things like sweating palms and his heart pounding in his ears.
The sense of insecurity grows as he realizes he's now spent the better part of five and a half seconds standing there silently contemplating this all, with a stupid lovesick -no, no, not love ... likesick, perhaps, because Carter Baizen isn't sure he loves just yet - grin lighting up his features while he looks at her. Serena smiles quizzically at him, and as he opens his mouth to speak without having a clue what to say, Blair gets to her feet and saves him.
"Hi," she breathes cheerily, and her arms go around his neck, and right there in the destroyed Waldorf kitchen, her legs encased in denim and her hair and face a mess of sugar, with Serena sitting on the floor and staring up at them, Blair Waldorf kisses Carter Baizen without hesitation or abandon, without regard for etiquette, and without a hint of self-consciousness.
He tastes cinnamon and chocolate on her lips and feels his pulse return to normal. She cuddles into the crook of his neck where she seems to fit so easily, and he smiles and says hi back with his lips against her temple.
His eyes catch Serena's, and they smile softly at each other, something like understanding crossed with pride emanating from them both, and he remembers lusting for her, once, so long ago. He thinks it might have been more than lust, or at least he might have thought so at the time, but with Blair's little hand stroking the back of his neck, he can't for the life of him remember why.
XOXO
"Are you ready?" Blair calls out to him from the bathroom.
He's lying on her bed, arms behind his head and legs crossed at the ankles, and he rolls his eyes.
"I've been ready for 45 minutes," he complains.
"Well, no one said you couldn't have joined me in the shower ..." she taunts back, and her laughter rings out as he sputters over that one for a moment. "So you're sure you're ready?"
"Blair, if you don't get out here I'm coming in and spoiling this 'surprise,'" he declares firmly, and cocks his head as the doorknob twists.
"You're no fun, Carter," she pouts, and his eyes widen as she struts toward him, still damp from her shower, her dark locks uncombed and spilling in tangles over her shoulders, creating wet, clinging patches on her apron, which she is now wearing with a pair of black Louboutin stilettos, cherry-red lip gloss, and nothing else.
"Oh now you know that's not the case," he replies, and she squeals with laughter as he launches himself off the bed and lifts her off the ground. "I'm the most fun you've ever had."
She shoves him in the chest with a devilish little smile and he willingly collapses back onto the bed.
"You know what?" she asks, her conversational tone contrasting with the way she's hastily sliding his t-shirt up over his head.
He shakes his head and reaches up to cup her cheek, drawing her face to his for a lengthy kiss and freezing her where she straddles him before asking, "What?"
She places her hand over his against his cheek and regards him seriously, her playful demeanor paused as her gaze burns into his.
"I like you," she informs him, and the annoying little tug in his chest feels different - warmer, and spreading, like morphine.
"I like you too," he tells her, and her smile lights up her entire face.
They watch each other for a moment, unsure of whether they're supposed to expand upon their revelations or just get to the sex part, and then his stomach growling beneath her other hand interrupts them. They look down in unison and he groans, and her eyes sparkle playfully.
"Hungry? I could bake somethi--"
"I think I'll be okay," he cuts her off when he presses his lips against hers, and she laughs again as his hand snakes around behind her and her apron falls to the ground.