A/N: Okay, the title sucks, but it was a last minute thing. I foresee the suckitude of the impending, boring threesome (seriously, I'd rather see dead!Bart/Blair/Cece than... well, that), and I raise the CW writers this nonsense. Awkward? Yes. Implausible? Probably. Hilarious? Absolutely. It's not as good as the usual low standard I set for myself and I guess it's not even REALLY a threesome, but it's just for fun :).


You, Me, and Humphrey

He couldn't believe that he was the one who felt bad about the whole thing. Chuck never felt like a bigger jackass as he sat in his dining room. Alone. No girlfriend. Instead he seethed with his bottle of scotch and he dared anyone who wasn't Blair to say anything about his manners in his own house. Why the fuck had he left an important meeting to rush home to an empty house? He pushed at his black bow tie and unbuttoned the top of his tuxedo dress shirt. It's not like he was going anywhere tonight.

He was just taking another sip when he heard a familiar, clumsy stutter that made him cringe, the very ends of his carefully styled coif curling in disgust. Why was Brooklyn trash desecrating his and Blair's private palace? Before he even saw his stepsister's pathetic ex (although, he must say, he preferred his annoying naivete to Carter's... well, Carter), he had his lines ready to kick him out. "We don't take in strays, Humphre- What the hell?"

She was like a rose stuck in manure, dainty and clad in a curve-hugging deep red gown, her dark, luscious curls trailing down Humphrey's arm and... and what the hell was Brooklyn doing carrying his girlfriend like that?

"Before you say anything, Bass-"

"We don't have to explain ourselves to him Humph-Dan. We're in love!" And the arm that had been wrapped around his shoulders to keep her balance drew him close to her lips.

"Enough! What's going on?"

"I already told you, Chuck. Now leave us." She waved her hand as if to dismiss him, her nose up in the air.

"Oh please, this is Humphrey we're talking about."


"Shut up, Humphrey. Stay out of this."

"Um, in case you haven't noticed, you're the one nursing the booze, I'm the one holding the girl so..."

"The bedroom's that way, Cabbage Patch." The little chit looked spitefully back at him. "I call him that because we have such a loving relationship, we have pet names. Oh, and he answers the phone when I call!" She elbowed Humphrey in the chest and got his feet to move toward that direction.

"Uh-hem. Um, yes... sweetie?"


All Dan wanted to do was be a good friend and a good stepbrother. How in the world did he end up spending the night dragging an injured and cranky Blair Waldorf from party to party, trying to track down a woman possessed by the devil (Georgina) and the sleaziest man alive (Carter Baizen)? And how did he end up in the penthouse with her... and Chuck?

Chuck, who looked like he wanted to rip his limbs off with his eyes. And between those two he was still the lesser of two evils.

He laid the woman in the bed and even he had to admit, she looked like an old hollywood screen siren. You know, the kind of siren who lured you over the side of a ship so that your body will be destroyed by the tiny sharp rocks on the shore because Blair Waldorf would never just kill you, she made you suffer. He swallowed a nervous gulp as he heard the man's footsteps finally following them. He may have been surrounded by friends at NYU, but he knew well enough to know that Chuck and Blair still reigned supreme above 14th Street.

"Kiss me," he heard and before he knew it, she had her claws on his collar and was dragged down onto the bed, nearly crushing the small girl had his hands not settled first on the pillows... are those pillowcases 100% silk or something?


"Do you hear something, sweetie?" She smiled sweetly up at him and for one fleeting second, Dan thought that it wouldn't be too bad to wake up to that smile everyday.

Or you know, that very very talented tongue in his mouth.

"I said, that's enough." Chuck, in a surprising feat of physical strength the likes of which Dan had never seen in all their years of schooling together (honestly, Dan didn't think he had it in him), pulled him back from his collar and went to cover his girlfriend with his own body. Was Dan jealous of a guy making out with his own girlfriend?

There's a first for everything.

Okay, maybe it's not a first.

"Ow, OW!" Blair's bottom lip was still trapped between Chuck's teeth when Dan pulled on the pant leg that was crushing her aching ankle. Dan felt all sorts of confused when Chuck glared at him while he was still sucking face with his equally stunning girlfriend.

"What's wrong with you, baby?" Chuck was flat out ignoring him now, wasn't he? It was for the better because there was no way Dan wanted his attention while Chuck was touching... that part of Blair.

"I twisted my ankle and Hu-Humphrey carried me home." He needed to get out of there. He couldn't handle the breathy quality of her voice when she pronounced the h, nor did he ever imagine that she could sound so...well, cute when she was, um, being pleasured, by Chuck Bass.

Maybe Serena had something there about the two wrongs and one very twisted, hot right.

He may have added the hot part.


"Dan, there's a compress in the freezer in the kitchen, could you-" She had never seen a Brooklynite run that quickly in her life. She thought they were all just lazy, poor, out-of-shape blobs. Well, she could now seriously debate the out-of-shape part because when he was carrying her, she definitely felt muscles in his shoulders that, as much as she loved the Basstard she was currently undressing, Chuck did not possess.

"You poor thing. Do you want me to book you a massage therapy session tomorrow to help you," her boyfriend kissed her, "relax?"

"Well, I can think of other things right now you can do for me." She pushed the shirt off his shoulders and kissed him again. "Or to me. Whatever."

This was going to be good. Chuck had that perverted smirk on his face that always promised a good night and just he was just telling her how great that sounded...

"I've got the compress-oh! And Chuck doesn't have a shirt on." Humphrey shielded his eyes from the couple lounging on the bed, holding the frozen block at arm's length.

"It's nothing you haven't seen before, Humphrey." Blair raised a perfectly plucked eyebrow at him and caught his attention. "In the locker room, Waldorf. Get your mind out of the gutter."

Chuck had this drawl that made everything he said incredibly entrancing and, matched with his eyes, she couldn't quite help but to press herself entirely to him, feeling the warmth from his bare chest through the thin, satin material of her dress. She was Satine and Chuck was her very wealthy patron. That could be a fun game.

Her ankle cried out and she winced - this was the last time she ever dueled Georgina with Martini glasses after splashing each other in the face and down the others' dresses (Blair secretly declared a victory seeing as how you could practically see down to her knees in Georgina's whore dress). Her little painted toes stuck out of the bed and she poked Humphrey with them. He may as well make himself useful.

He seemed to have finally learned the lesson of "resistance is futile" and she smiled when he sat at the end of the bed, her swollen ankle on his lap, and pressed the compress against her heated skin. The chills went all the way up her body and she arched and moaned in a way that was definitely not making Dan feel any more at home.

And he thought he had gotten past the whole socially awkward thing when he went off to college. Blair knew better.

The pack felt good against the sore muscle and the hand gently cradling her heel was tender and warm. It made her want to curl up next to...

Wait, what?


Humphrey was bringing the whole party down.

As usual.

But when Chuck pulled back, he saw the delicately curved eyebrow and his next thought was:

Oh fuck.

"Hey Chuck?"

"Yes, dear?"

"Remember how you completely ditched me in my attempt to exact revenge for your sister tonight?" He gulped and nodded. He knew he would have to pay for that telephone conversation. "Well, I have... an idea." And then she was nibbling on his earlobe that she knew rendered him speechless and thoughtless. He was really really going to hate this. "Let's have Humphrey join u-"

"W-what?" Of course a Brooklynite wouldn't see the golden opportunity in front of him. One that had Chuck shaking his head as though he were having a seizure. Blair sent him a glare that made the boy look back down and wait on her foot.

"Oh come on, Bass. You said you wanted to try a little menage-a-trois and who could possibly be less threatening than Humphrey?"

"All right, that's it. I'm leaving." When Blair demanded something, she could always see through the pain and reach for it. It was one of the qualities Chuck admired about her, but this time it came back to bite him in the ass.

Because watching his girlfriend yank the faux-writer by his skinny tie onto the bed and on top of her, well, that wasn't part of the plan for tonight. "You're not going anywhere, Humphrey." And she went in for the kill, her head lifted to pull his lips in just enough to lure the clueless idiot into her web.

Chuck supposed he would have to suffer through this, as Blair often indulged him in his own fantasies, but it didn't mean he had to like it. Although, he supposed that from NYU, Blair could have easier picked a dirtier, more hipster, and out of shape partner. He shuddered at the very thought. Still, when he thought menage-a-trois, he was thinking about bringing in a girl for Blair to explore. He wouldn't touch her (he liked his pecker the way it was, thank you very much), but there could not be anything hotter than his bold little vixen and... "Hey! Hands, Humphrey!" He understood the magnetic quality his girlfriend's delectable rump had on a fella's hands, but Humphrey best resist it if he wanted to leave the penthouse with all his limbs.

Blair quickly shot him a disapproving look before turning her attention to him (as she should), her body turned to the side, the dress draped around her curves. "Play nicely, Bass." And she granted him the softest of kisses that made his eyelids flutter and left him aching for more as she pulled away. "Nice boys get rewarded." Her hand brushed against his erection and now he remembered how she never played fair.

From over her shoulder, he spied that Humphrey had the same if-I-weren't-so-horny-I'd-stop-and-wonder-what's-going-on look.

It seemed that they had something in common tonight.


There was nothing hot about the way Blair touched Chuck through his pants. And in absolutely no way did he maybe get a little envious of Chuck freakin' Bass.

No, that's just impossible.

But there it was, Dan practically ripping at his own button down and pressing himself behind the girl, his groin against her ass and his hand gripping her shapely hip through the slippery satin. His other hand found the zipper at the back of her dress and slipped it down the curve of her spine. In the stepbrothers' first joint effort ever, they rolled the curve hugging gown down her body to reveal a stunningly fair expanse of skin that stretched lazily on the bed, feeling completely at home and confident in just her underwear and stockings.

Of course, Dan would too if he had two girls practically worshiping at his injured feet.

Dan could write line after line about that body and that face, but his first thought: damn, Chuck must have done something really good in his past life. He traced a finger down the side of her breast, waist, and the smooth round curve of her hips before lifting her leg behind his shoulder (something the doctor said about keeping it level) and kissing behind her knee. He nipped at the lily white flesh of her inner thigh until it tinted pink, all the while trying to ignore the way Chuck lavished his attention on her breasts in a way that was reminiscent of indulgent, lascivious dukes from period pieces. Her dark curls fanned out behind her and she twisted her body to match the moans that escaped from the back of her throat.

For a literary nut, it was mindblowingly hot and Dan had never ever wanted to associate anything that Chuck Bass did with the word "hot".

"If you leave a bruise, Humphrey, I'll kill you."

So the Bass monster did have a heart after all.

Dan responded with a soft kiss through the black lace, his nose pressed against her and he swore he could taste her breath, hot and heavy on his tongue. He brought his hands up to pull at the material, but was interrupted when he felt a hand grip his recently grown out hair, nails sharp against his scalp, and pull him up. "Aaaah..."

Before he knew it, Dan was on his back, shirtless, beltless and prey to the two people who made his life hell in high school.


Blair wanted to laugh, but the look Chuck was giving her made her bite her lip instead. She knew she was already pushing it, but even he had to admit this was exciting. And really, it's Humphrey. When all is set and done, he's too sentimental and hipster for her to ever consider anything with. She let Chuck yank off his pants, knowing he enjoyed that little show of power even as Humphrey looked mortified as all hell. It's understandable - Chuck had a way of destroying fabric, but she could replace those Old Navy pants a million times over.

Now was not the time to think about that.

Now was the time to feel his skin through her silk stockings as she straddled him and revel in the way his own eyes close at the sensation. She felt Chuck hold onto her waist behind her and kiss her shoulders even as she began to rock slowly on top of him. She let him take charge - pulling her panties aside and pulling down Dan's boxers as though he was offering her a gift, and eased her onto him.

"How are you doing, baby?" he mumbled into the shell of her ear.

"As you well know from playtime at Cirque du Soleil, sex heals all wounds." She hears his chuckle at the memory.

And then he was gone.


It should have been him and he should have been mad as hell, but Chuck couldn't deny the fact that Brooklyn and Blair were nice to look at. He was tan where she was fair and Humphrey just looked like such a lost little insect, angry red marks on his chest which he'll undoubtedly feel in the morning, trapped in her web.

He understood that feeling well.

He watched and he ached, granting his girlfriend this (because he knew she'd return the favor a million times over), and brushed his hand on himself. It wasn't unfamiliar, watching her and jerking off, but watching her with someone else was quite a bit different. The voyeur in him rejoiced slightly and she was right. It's just Humphrey, after all.

Because he's a man, and certainly, it's what men do, he observed that Humphrey may have been a tad larger than himself. Just a tad and it may have wounded his pride just the tiniest bit - but the way Blair could devour the boy helped him regain his confidence like nothing else. Few could consider himself an equal to the little spitfire, and Chuck considered himself one among the elite.

So what if Humphrey could probably throw a better left hook? There was no replacing the knowledge of using what one was gifted with in bed.

And he was so close, so close that he just wanted to tip himself over the edge when he heard her familiar cry, wordless because he knew he couldn't bear it if she had actually said his name and he nearly lunged at her, sending the two of them flying to the other side of the king-sized bed while Humphrey laid on the other side, trying to catch his breath. Chuck slipped into her easily and hit her in just the right spot that she arched against him, a leg coming around to wrap around his waist.

Chuck spared a shove at Humphrey's side until he rolled off the bed indignantly. Then he began to properly fuck his girlfriend's brains out.


Dan got the message and grabbed his clothes, not even bothering to put them on, and nearly leaped out of the room in gigantic strides like a clumsy ballerina. He pulled them on in the hallway and surveyed the damage - a missing button here, a small hole there, nothing too terrible. He wouldn't get arrested for indecent exposure, at the very least. He leaned his head back against the wooden door, and listened to the nearly pornographic noises from the other side. Was sex always like this for them because um... he might be doing it wrong then.

He started his walk of shame - that wasn't too bad. It wasn't exactly his first since his college life began. No, what the worst part was, he couldn't help but think he'd do it all over again if they'd let him.