AN- So I was just reading Shakespeare's sonnets earlier (I realise that makes me sound like a total geek :) ) and I came across this one which just struck me as totally Chuck and Blair, so I decided to write a fic loosely around it. I have a few more ideas inspired by a few more of my favourite sonnets and general brain flotsam so I'd love feedback on this to see if I should continue. Enjoy and please review!
Those lips that Love's own hand did make,
Breathed forth the sound that said 'I hate',
To me that languished for her sake:
But when she saw my woeful state,
Straight in her heart did mercy come,
Chiding that tongue that ever sweet,
Was used in giving gentle doom:
And taught it thus anew to greet:
'I hate' she altered with an end,
That followed it as gentle day,
Doth follow night who like a fiend
From heaven to hell is flown away.
'I hate', from hate away she threw,
And saved my life saying 'not you'.
William Shakespeare, Sonnet 145
He stared after her as she stalked away from him, leaving him abandoned near the bar. He stood turgid as he watched her delectable form slither away from him, her perfect curves hugged tightly by the scarlet Vivienne Westwood dress he'd help pour her into only two hours before.
"So, about that drink..." he heard from the woman beside him, the homogenous, blonde stick that had been practically humping him while he stood at the bar with his drink.
"You really think I'm interested?" he spat out, his eyes grazing down her body vaguely, accepting that her body, face and gown were all acceptable, but none exemplary. He had known without looking at her that this would be the case. He saw no beauty in any other woman, found no joy in their conversation and felt no pleasures from their attentions. The only woman he could even see anymore had disappeared from sight, tears glistening in her eyes, only moments before. "You're even more insipid than I would have thought... which is remarkable really, as you've failed even to notice it's an open bar."
The blonde chuckled and laid a hand on his arm. She slowly raised her eyes to his, blinking her green eyes when she met his gaze.
"That doesn't mean you can't get me a drink. Honey, you must have no idea who I am-"
"-And that is how it will remain. As for misunderstood identities, I cannot express to you how foul an error you've made in misunderstanding me." Chuck interrupted, ripping his arm from her touch. He raised an eyebrow at Alex, his bar manager, who nodded in perfect understanding; the blonde was leaving, and now.
Chuck did not wait around to see the woman's reaction when security explained to her that she was no longer welcome at The Empire Hotel; as a club patron or as a guest; his only thoughts were of pursuing Blair. He pushed through the crowds in the busy club, brushing off congratulatory nods, cat-calls and proffered hand-shakes from the upper east siders that filled the room. He strode in the direction he had last seen her headed in and found himself in the hallway leading to the powder rooms. Casting a quick glance around him he pushed his way through the door to the ladies and found it seemingly deserted but for some tiny, choked sobs. He slipped the attendant a fifty and she made herself scarce, nodding at her boss' indication that she should lock the door on her way out.
"Blair, baby," he softly said, leaning against the doorframe into the cubicle she occupied, "come out, kitten."
"Go away, Chuck!" she cried with a broken voice, "I ha- I h-hate-" her sobs continued to sound through the door and Chuck had to ball his hand into a fist to stop himself from going in pursuit of the bitch who'd caused this trouble and seeing her out of the city.
"Blair... you don't mean that. Nothing happened, she was an insipid, pointless whore who threw herself at me. You know these eyes are interested in nobody but you." His voice caressed through the door.
"Your eyes!" she screeched in response, "Your eyes are not the problem, Bass, it's your pants, and the way they react to these supposed pointless whores that grind themselves against you while I'm barely across the room!" Chuck pinched the bridge of his nose in frustration, wondering briefly if this was PMS or if she was a little tipsy but eventually having to concede that they weren't the case; she was just being Blair.
"Sweetheart," he said insistently through the door, laying his forehead and palm against the warm wood, "don't lock yourself away, nothing happened, I swear, and you deserve to be seen, looking as you do." There was a brief pause.
"And how do I look that's so special that you can't even keep your eyes on me and off passing twig insects?" she snapped, sniffling.
"Waldorf, my eyes haven't been off you all night. The way your hips move in that dress, the curve of your waist that makes my hand feel so empty for not being on it, your legs; Blair, you know what you do to me when your skirt's that short. And your lips, God, Blair your lips. They intoxicate me. It takes so much less than a kiss to get me hot for you. I glance at them across a room, talking, drinking, licking them, and I think it's impossible. Your cherry-red lips are Cupid's bow, sweetheart, and you've got me through the heart." He said, impassioned, to the door.
He listened awhile to the tell-tale silence from behind the mahogany before hearing a rustle of a gown, a steadying sniff and then the toilet being flushed. The door unlocked and swung open, revealing Blair Waldorf stood, resplendent in Westwood, a coat of red gloss fresh on her lips. She looked Chuck up and down once, taking in his unusually sombre black suit and red shirt before brushing past him nonchalantly, looking into the mirrors above the sinks and she turned the faucet and began washing her hands.
"Blair..." Chuck began, moving towards her.
"Where's the damned attendant?" Blair snapped, "I need to dry my hands before I head back out there."
"You're coming back into the club? Fantastic, I was hoping to introduce you to-" Chuck began, relieved. Blair whipped round to face him, dabbing her hands dry on a nearby napkin.
"Oh no, I'm not 'coming' anywhere, Chuck, I am going. If I look as fine as you say I do then I say it's a shame to waste it. I'm going to find somebody that I can-"
"Put a leash on? Trust never to be looked at by another woman? Blair you love that they covet me, that so many tried and failed before you managed to catch a Bass." He insisted, moving close to her, pressing his hips against hers as she leant against the bank of sinks. He whispered hotly into her ear as he ground his evident erection against her. "You know you're the only one for me, Blair, can't you feel how I want you? And I know you're hot for me, I bet you've been getting yourself all worked up in here about how you can furiously fuck me until I submit to never leave the house again." He brought a hand up to her neck as he traced her ear with his tongue.
He leant back a little and brought his hand to her cheek. She gazed at him, heavy lidded, before he moved in again, crashing his lips against hers, his brow furrowed and his hands moving across her body. He felt her delicate arms wrap around him, her nails digging into him through his suit. He brought his hands to her ass and squeezed it appreciatively before lifting her lightly up onto the counter. She moaned as her hands went to his hair, pulling him deeper into the kiss as her tongue wound with his, their mouths making love to one another.
Chuck slid his hands up her thighs and under her voluptuous skirts, finding her just as wet and ready for him as he'd expected. He pulled her gently to the edge of the counter so she could feel his hardness against her through his pants. He slid one hand back up to her apex as his other moved down to quickly work his belt. He traced her dripping pussy lips through her barely-there La Perlas causing her to gasp and arch against him. His belt and pants undone he slid his spare hand up into her hair, winding the curls round his fingers as he kissed his way down her throat, continuing his firm ministrations on her pussy, slipping two fingers beneath her panties and finding her clit. She gasped louder and pulled him away from her neck by his hair.
"How do you do this? I don't want you, I don't want you near me, I hate yo-" her brief tirade was interrupted by a scorching kiss.
"Baby don't say it, please, I can't bear it." Chuck whispered, stroking her hair and looking into her beautiful, brown eyes. Blair blanched at the raw hurt she saw in his own dark pupils, mingled in with desire and desperation for her. She felt his hand still on her clit as they gazed into one another's eyes, frozen in the moment. Chuck felt his heart clench as he noted her surprise and upset at his woeful state of fevered neediness and concern.
"Chuck." She whispered before pulling him to her. One hand grasped his head to pin him in the almost painful kiss they were locked in while her other slipped down his back to pull him flush against her. She wrapped her legs around his hips and ground against him, her cries muffled by his mouth. He gripped her neck and thigh, she knew he'd leave bruises but she didn't care, she couldn't feel anything but need and she knew he felt the same way too, he needed to know that she didn't hate him.
He tore their kiss apart and suddenly slipped his hands up her legs and under her ass, lifting her quickly to slide her panties off her and down her legs. Their eyes met for a split second and she knew it was her turn, her hands were at his waistband in a second, pushing his boxers away and down from him and gripping his cock in her hands.
"Blair, I have to, please... Can we rush? I have to have you; I need to feel you surrounding me." He frantically whispered into her ear. She closed her eyes and nodded, knowing he didn't mean just physically, but he desired the same feeling as she did, when he could focus on nothing but her as they intertwined, feeling her everywhere until he couldn't tell where she ended and he began.
"Chuck, please..." she meekly conceded, her anger dissipated, her legs drawing him in closer and her hand drawing his cock to her slick entrance. She braced one hand on the counter as she waited for him to enter, expecting a swift, single thrust down to the hilt, but instead he cradled her head and waist in his hands as he slowly drove into her, making her legs tighten around him and inch higher around his waist
When he was finally sheathed in her she felt her eyelids flutter closed in ecstasy. She kissed his neck and slid a hand into his shirt, stroking the bare skin at the small of his back before applying pressure and starting to grind against him, making her moan. She felt his jaw tighten against her cheek as she knew he was gritting his teeth; holding back. She felt him moving slowly, meeting her increasingly frantic hips in small but earth-shattering movements. When she felt herself nearing her peak in an incredibly short amount of time she softly brought his hands down to her hips before leaning up to whisper in his ear; "Take me, Bass, I'm yours."
He let out a strangled cry and gripped her hips, thrusting wildly into her, hard and deep as she clung to him, her nails digging into his back and her teeth biting down on his neck.
"You close?" she heard him choke out amongst his grunts.
"I'm there." She replied as she moaned her way to climax, Chuck following her seconds later and spending himself deep into her.
She placed a tiny kiss onto the bite marks she had left on his neck and wrapped her arms around him as he leant against her, supporting himself by holding onto the counter she still sat on. In time he turned to look at her, both of them still breathing deeply. She leant in and kissed him softly on the lips, smiling against him when she felt, more than heard, his gentle 'mmm' of satisfaction. Eventually they pulled apart and held one another, foreheads touching, him still inside her.
"Fuck, you're hot when you hate." He finally panted.
"I hate," she murmured, stroking the hairs at the back of his neck, "not you."