A/N: Not a songfic, but based off The Who's "You Better You Bet." I was just listening to it and things just clicked. The chorus, mostly, though there are some dialogue that are taken from lyrics.
Summary: He was glad at certain society events when he was done with his rounds. Because those entire nights, she would just be sitting there, draining her martinis in her little, tight, black dresses that showed too much thigh, practically encouraging the men who were eying her. It was too much to handle and there was only one thought that would course through his mind
Disclaimer: Nothing is mine. Rights go to Gossip Girl and lyrics from The Who.
When I say "I love you," you say "you better."
From the very beginning, she had always commanded him. At the time, he just leered it off, replacing that haughty expression on her haughtily gorgeous face with one of beautiful disgust. That was where he liked her. Right where he wanted her. She was a commanding bitch and when she said things like that, he just liked it.
At the beginning, that wasn't really how it started. She was just one of his best friends who was dating his other best friend and it amused him to listen to her thinking she could make him do as she pleased.
It was only after did that amusement make itself known as something else. It was only when she allowed his hands to feel the soft and pale skin of her thighs and what lay beneath did he realize what it was. She would glower at him and he would laugh. She was so amazing and precious he wondered what a blonde party girl ever had over her.
Now she would command him and it was something that just turned him on. He liked it when she demanded things of him and she would finally let him take her again. But she wasn't letting him.
Right now she wasn't letting him do much of anything and it was beyond annoying. She had left the party without him in a rush and he knew it was his first screw up of the relationship. When this whole thing started, he was sure he wouldn't be anything like Nathaniel. He promised himself he wouldn't.
He used to tease her at masquerades that a simple mask wouldn't keep him from her if she let him be hers. He always entertained the notion of what it would be like to be owned by Blair Waldorf. It was starting to seem like it wouldn't be such a bad deal. Having her throw herself at you constantly in the midst of bustiers and countless lingerie. It didn't seem like a bad deal at all.
Even when he realized he was in the middle of falling endlessly for her, he knew even among all of the alcohol and women that had to be paid for, he wouldn't be like Nathaniel. He wouldn't forget anniversaries or birthdays and he certainly wouldn't take her for granted.
That was why it surprised him that during their third week as an official couple, he messed up like no one had before. He was too cocky and arrogant, he realized. This always made itself apparent when the lingering sting of her palm against the side of its face caused a welt. Yes, he was certain. She was definitely mad. This made sense.
It wasn't like he was lusting continuously after her best friend or anything. He certainly hadn't cheated on her (and had no intention of doing so.) They were just talking. He should have taken into account Blair's propensity to overreact. And how hot she was when she was (unnecessarily)jealous.
She was insane if she were to think that talking to some slutty blonde even came close to the feelings he had for her. But she was standing there with an accusing look on her face. She shook her hair out of her face with a simple hair flip as she whirled from his presence towards the door... Leaving him to find a ride for himself. For some reason she always seemed to be able to get Arthur to take her anywhere even though Chuck was technically the one who paid him. It was one of the things he loved about her. Even though he hated it at the same time.
Yes, he loved her. They had been over this three weeks ago and she still continued to doubt his affection for her. She thought he liked the presence of botoxed women more than her and he was starting to think there might be something wrong with her brain that she thought they even compared to her.
Apologies were obviously in order though he was unaware he had even violated some code of the boyfriend-girlfriend clause. If Serena were here instead of whoring it up on Valentino's yacht, he was sure she would shake her head at him as though he were surely lacking in brain cells to be conversing with another girl. (Conversing, mind you, not screwing.)
He thought he had it under control. Just do the opposite of everything that Nate Archibald had done and he was golden. And he knew her. That was the thing. That was why he was so much better than all the others that vied for her attention. He knew her better than he knew himself and that's what got them through everything.
And yet he was still trying to reach her on his phone to apologize for her overreaction. Although he was quite excited to try out make-up sex for the first time since they officially became a couple. That first time in the limo after he gave her all those presents from his trip in Europe could have been counted as that too, but this was after an actual fight during the relationship, and he was dying to try it out.
He took another swig from his flask as he speed dialed her number yet again. He wasn't leaving messages, just leaving missed call after missed call. He knew it aggravated her to no end and now she was more likely to pick up.
"What?" she finally snapped after about the 14th call.
"Hello to you too, darling."
Whoa. Even listening to his voice roughened with alcohol, he knew how drunk he was. But she needed to know.
"You are not calling me whilst drunk," she commanded. He really did love that tone.
"Do you know how hot you are when you use words like 'whilst?'" he said smoothly. He just liked playing with her.
"Do you know how much you're slurring your words right now?" she parried.
"I don't slur," he said, knowing it was true.
"Well this apology is going so well." He could hear the sneer in her voice. "I'm hanging up."
"No you're not," he sighed.
"I'm not hearing the words I want to be hearing right now."
"Those three little words?" he teased, knowing that it actually wasn't what she wanted to hear right now. Maybe after the apology.
"Do you have any idea how long it took me to get you on the phone?" Chuck asked petulantly.
Of course she did, she was screening every call.
"Great," he smirked into the phone. "I'm coming over."
"No you're not," she warned.
"Yes, I am," he said. "See you soon."
He hung up, knowing she would be furious. She was doing that a lot tonight.
He grinned as she opened the door anyway. He always got his way.
"Thanks for having me," he said, pushing his way past her.
"Get out," Blair said, even though she closed the door behind him.
"I think I'll stay," he said, taking a seat on her bed. "But thanks."
"Get out," she said, walking towards him to pull him off her bed.
"I'd rather have you," he said suavely, pulling her down next to him.
"Ugh," she wrinkled her nose. "You smell like you bathed in scotch."
"Don't pretend you don't love it," he smirked, pressing a sweet kiss to her neck. She tried to shove him away.
"Hey," he said shortly. "I'm trying to apologize, here."
"I have yet to hear the words," she said, but stopped trying to resist him.
"I didn't say I was going to do it verbally," he said lecherously.
"Well you better."
"I love it when you say that," he said, smothering her mouth with another kiss while pushing her on her back.
"Chuck," she said breathlessly. He knew she wasn't trying to sound sexy but that was usually when she was.
"I love it when you say my name," he murmured into her skin. "Especially when its accompanied by multiple yeses."
Blair turned her face away from him.
"Blair," he said softly. She rolled her eyes but let him guide her face to look at him. "I really am sorry."
"You've said that before," she said, but with a hint of a smile.
"And I meant it then, too," he reminded her. He felt her body relax beneath him and he took that as an invitation to lavish her with more deep kisses.
"I love you," he said. She sighed and looked into his eyes adoringly and he knew he was forgiven. Suddenly her grip on his hair grew sharp and he looked at her serious expression.
"You better," she warned. He smirked.
He really did love it when she commanded him. He accepted her terms. He was rewarded by the number of times she said his name that night, accompanied with multiple yeses.
When I say "I need you," you scream "you better."
Celibacy was something that Chuck Bass just did not do. He tried to control himself, however, because on more that one occasion he had been berated by his significant other for mauling her at public events. It wasn't his fault he needed her so much. It was her fault that she was so desireable.
It was different when he had meetings to go to because business was important to him. As important as Blair was. If she slid onto his lap like he desperately needed her to, a meeting that was hours away turned into a meeting that was minutes away. Because when it came to her, he could never just have enough. And two hours was not nearly enough time to be with her.
That was why he was glad at certain society events when he was done with his rounds. Because those entire nights, she would just be sitting there, draining her martinis in her little, tight, black dresses that showed too much thigh, practically encouraging the men who were eying her. It was too much to handle and there was only one thought that would course through his mind... and other extremities.
He needed her.
He needed her now.
It hurt even more when he would come back from business trips to Tokyo or wherever to the girl who lived with him that was practically his wife (he would be making that more official in the very near future) and the only relief he had was his hand. Nothing could compare and he couldn't wait to have her to himself.
He refused to hear not now and we still have to greet people. He had enough of it. That was what usually nights of his homecomings consisted of. It was vexing to have to go to parties right on the eves of his return. He would have gone right to their penthouse but she of course would be here, making appearances. And the rule was that they couldn't touch each other. He knew that had more to do with not being able to stop once they had started than propriety.
"I miss you," she said sweetly into the phone. His adrenaline (and other parts of him) always jumped when she said things like that. Those comments were saved for the Nates of the world. He was slowly getting used to the fact that she was loving him unconditionally as opposed to just out of desire. Though it helped that was there as well.
"I'll be home soon," he promised.
"You better," she teased. She had discovered his little fetish of her and used it to her advantage. Minx.
"You know what I've been thinking of," he hinted in his husky drawl. By her slight silence on the other end, he knew he was getting to her. As much as the mere thought of her got to him.
"What?" she finally asked, taking the bait.
"I've been thinking..." he drew out slowly, liking how her breathing halted, "of being together again. I've been thinking about your body..."
"Chuck," she said in a voice that told him she was flushed.
"The one thing on my mind."
"You have a one track mind," she said warningly. But he knew better than to think she was disapproving. They were similar in so many ways, one of which was she needed him as much as he needed her.
All the time.
"Are you coming straight home?" she inquired. It hadn't occurred to him that she was fishing for information.
"Yes," he said. "But you can go out and have fun."
"Thank you for your permission, Oh Great One," she said sarcastically.
"Not a problem," he smirked at her.
"I have to go."
He could tell from her tone she didn't want to hang up. He could relate.
"Love me?" she asked tentatively. Like she had to ask.
"Always," he replied. He wanted to see her tonight but it would all be worth it when they finally came together again. It was the only good thing about these trips. When he came home, she was always there, ready. He usually would go out and see her.
Tonight, however, was a different story. He couldn't go out tonight as he returned from the G-5. Of course there were countless parties but he just couldn't handle it right now. He went home to Lily's dismay.
What he wasn't counting on was having a surprise when he returned.
He dropped his briefcase to the ground before he recognized the scantily clad body sprawled across his silk sheets. Their silk sheets.
"Miss me?" she asked in the sultry tone she saved just for him.
"You have no idea," he said, starting towards her. He couldn't help the smile full of debauchery spread across his face. "I knew you'd welcome me home with open... legs."
Blair sat up from her position of leaning back on her elbows.
She was wearing his favorite La Perlas.
It was amazing how her lithe form could look so innocent while decked in the most expensive lingerie. He couldn't help himself. He could never help himself. It was the way it always was with them.
He barely had time to shrug out of his jacket before he was upon her, kissing her with all the fervor he could muster.
"I've missed you," she uttered in his ear like it was a secret.
"Well it was a bit longer than three hours," he said, smirking at the end of their honeymoon period where they couldn't stand to be away from each other as he shivered from the trails of fire her hands made across his shoulder blades. "Blair."
"Yes?" she gasped, ripping his hindering garments from his body as he made away with hers.
"You have no idea how much I want you," he said, full with desire. Her warmth suddenly wrapped around him and he moaned a "I need you."
She threw her head back with a scream, "you better."