A/N: More Buffy quotes. Yay. I know you missed them from the week I haven't submitted them. Once again, not very original, but I hope its well received.
Summary: You and I both know what you hunder for. What you need. It's nothing to be ashamed of. It's who we are. You can only suppress your real nature for so long. I hope I'm around when it explodes.
Disclaimer: Nothing belongs to me. Quotes and characters are borrowed for my own personal entertainment.
You and I both know what you hunder for. What you need. It's nothing to be ashamed of. It's who we are. You can only suppress your real nature for so long. I hope I'm around when it explodes.
You and I both know what you hunger for. What you need. Its nothing to be ashamed of. It's who we are.
It was the denial thing. She was good at it. She had been doing to for 16 years, why stop now? It was the devil's voice, however, that echoed truths in her ear that she wanted to ignore. She was good at denying but she was even better at failing to resist him.
It was his eyes, she figured. Nate had the nicest eyes. They were pure and blue, and more importantly, easy to figure out. There wasn't anything about Nate that was beneath the surface. He wore his heart on his sleeve and even Blair knew that it didn't really belong to her anymore. It belonged to her best friend. That was probably what led to the complex. That was probably what led her to Chuck.
Chuck was crass, coarse, and a lecherous bastard. But he understood her in ways that Nate couldn't even fathom. And when Blair knew that Nate was passively going after Serena, things like that just mattered more.
She discovered what this magnetism once by accident. Chuck knew. He knew everything and there was no doubt about that. He knew the days she spent on her knees in her bathroom and the secretive bottle of pure gin she kept under the sink. Serena didn't even know about Blair's tolerance.
But when Blair went too far, there was only one person who was there to see it. She was just a girl to him. He had to convince himself of that constantly because when she spread out before him, thoughts of her virginity and his best friend just flew from his mind. All he could think about how hot and just... good she would feel.
Hypothetically. Because he would never cross that ground. Even if Nate was a horrible boyfriend. Even if sometimes he would think, maybe he would be better, despite the debauchery the instigated. Despite how she sometimes looked at him.
"Bass strikes again with his talent of obviousness," she slurred. Luckily he was fluent in drunk-talk and could understand her perfectly.
He couldn't do this. He was so torn when it came to her. He didn't do moral complications. He did women. And lots of them. But since Serena had left, Blair literally had no one and it wasn't fair. He knew loneliness more than anyone could imagine. And there were times when he would catch her looking at Nate as though studying him and he knew that she knew. Blair knew Nate's feelings for Serena but she didn't do anything about it. And yet Chuck knew everything. He had sort of filled the roll as her best friend but he still was loyal towards Nate.
That all could change in an instant. He had the information to rip the two apart for good but he just couldn't do that to her. But he couldn't stop the sick and twisted feelings either that panged through his heart and filled his brain with images. He couldn't help but think just for one night what it would be like.
He knew Blair. He knew that it would never just be one night. She was so unlike any of the other girls and it was hard enough to restrain himself now that he knew he would never be able to do it. He had never tried to restrain himself before. There was no need. But there was now and while she was stumbling into his suite so that her mother wouldn't smell martini all over her the one night she came home, he had to remind himself of that. She wasn't his. No matter how strangely right it felt that she should be.
He couldn't help but stare. She just made herself at home on his bed like she was just meant to be there. Her hair sprawled across his pillow and he knew the sweet scent of her shampoo would be stuck there for a week. This was making his resolve all the more weak. Especially how her skirt was riding up her thighs like that.
She looked so sweet and innocent... and for the taking. He pinched the bridge of his nose, trying to ward away those thoughts.
"You look sick," she commented.
"Look who's talking," he retorted. She raised her eyebrows at him. He was the only one who she allowed to mildly insult her.
"Blair," he said uneasily, sitting next to her form on his (wide) bed.
"Do you know why I'm here, Bass?" she sighed.
"I can assume."
"Do you like that I'm here?" she asked, sitting up next to him.
"What are you doing?" he asked, almost frightened. He shouldn't have asked. He should have remembered how impulsive Blair was when she was drunk. Usually when it was only with him but when paired with alcohol, he could never predict her.
His head was between her hands, her lips and tongue scalding his. Her arm wound around his neck, pulling him close. She pulled away just as quickly and she was examining him.
This wasn't just some moment of weakness. She was searching for something.
"Tell me," she demanded.
"What are you doing, Waldorf?" he said uneasily.
"This isn't your fault," she replied. "It's mine. Just tell me what happened."
"You know what I'm talking about," she replied in annoyance. "And I know you know. Tell me that he wants her. Just say it."
"Is that why you're here?" he asked. He had no reason to feel hurt but by the look in her eye, he knew that she was feeling it more than him.
"He slept with her," he said.
Her hand was lightning quick and left a stinging welt across his cheekbone. He felt the bed shift as she leaped off and towards the door. Still looking at the floor, he heard the door open. But it didn't close. He looked up. She was looking at him strangely.
"Thank you, Chuck," she whispered. He couldn't even react before she closed the door behind her and left him in silence with the only evidence of her presence the welt on his face and the scent on his pillow.
He wasn't surprised at her denial. It was what she did best. Of course she wouldn't admit she had manipulated him by making out with him. He didn't like, however, that she was still diligently beside Nate's side. That was irksome. But Chuck didn't get mad. He got even. It wasn't like she had really wronged him or anything, he just didn't like feeling this way. And there was only one way to remedy that.
Cornering her was easy. He did it at almost every party. And he was starting to think that she was letting him.
"Bass," she said, rolling his eyes.
"So how's it going with you and Nathaniel?"
"Perfect," she said stiffly.
"Oh, okay," he nodded. "So you didn't tell him how you made out with me on my bed."
"I don't recall," she sighed. "If any such event occurred I'm sure it would be memorable enough so I could actually-- I don't know-- remember."
"Maybe the fact that you were completely trashed contributed to that," he said. "Because trust me. You would remember. Speaking of which--"
"Is your egotism going to go on intermission any time soon?" she asked smoothly.
"I was just wondering," he said coolly, "if Nate is aware that you're aware of his little indiscretion at the Sheppard Wedding."
Her expression hardened.
"Whatever you may have deluded yourself into thinking transpired between us last night didn't," she snapped. "Do you understand?"
She didn't bother for a response as she stomped away from him.
"I'm starting to," he said in awe.
Oh my god.
She liked kissing him.
He had her now.
It honestly hadn't occurred to him. Blair was a vindictive bitch. She used people to get what she wanted, even if it was just information. It never occurred to him that she could possibly feel what he felt. And that she had gotten drunk and gone to his suite after she obviously had enough of giving Nate unrequited love.
The thing was, he knew her. And he knew exactly how to play this. At first he thought it was just because he couldn't have her. But Nate didn't exactly have her either and Chuck still couldn't stop imagining her naked. It was a problem. But soon, he was going solve this little problem they were having. And she was going to like it.
"Nathaniel seems content," Chuck sighed, taking his place beside her.
"Go away, Chuck," she said through gritted teeth. He couldn't help but smirk. He never noticed before because she was his friend. It was incomprehensible that she could feel anything for him because they shared so much. Irony was unsettling. Maybe that's what love really was. Not that he could even conceive of loving anyone, especially his best friend's girl.
"Funnily enough," he murmured, "you don't exactly want me to. Now do you?"
"What is wrong with you?" she seethed, finally meeting his eyes. "Nate's your best friend."
"But you don't exactly belong to him anymore." He studied her expression. "Do you disagree?"
She looked studiously at the bar. "I told him I know."
"Why would you ruin your fairytale vision of your perfect life?" he taunted.
"Because he doesn't love me."
"You're still together."
She caught him staring at him.
"What do you think you're doing?"
"I just find it amusing," he sighed. "Are you really that desperate to ignore what happened between us?"
"I told you," she sneered. "Nothing happened."
"So you do remember," he grinned. "Why did you kiss me?"
"I was drunk."
"Like right now?" he pressed.
"I'm not drunk," she said. He liked the smell of alcohol on her breath.
"Really?" he asked huskily and found with satisfaction that she was leaning in to hear him over the loud sounds of the hotel. "Why are you so close to me?"
"Are you really so egocentric that you insist that everyone is into you?" she spat, but her warmth still covered him.
"No," he replied. "Just you."
"Because we're two of a kind."
"Nate and I compliment each other," she said.
"So much that you make yourself sick because of it?" he asked coolly. Her eyes narrowed.
"You won't be telling—"
"Why would I do that?" he asked sincerely. She eyed him cautiously.
"I don't know."
"Tell me you don't see it," he said. "Tell me you don't... feel when we're together."
"We were never together."
"My bed remembers differently."
"Do you?" she taunted.
"And now what are you doing, Waldorf?"
She just stared at him. She didn't move away and he took it as an invitation. It was so wrong but he couldn't even think about Nate right now. So he slid his hand over her stocking covered thigh. He watched her eyes trail down silently.
"See, the thing is," he said, edging closer to her. "You know how alike we are. It's what draws you to me. Nate isn't what you want. You need something that you could never get with your perfect boyfriend. You're afraid of showing him who you really are. You're dark and you're beautiful. And I know what you really need."
"And what's that?" she snapped angrily. He leaned into her neck and her eyes fluttered closed, not able to stop him. His lips barely touched her throat when he pulled away, triumph in his eyes.
"You hunger for the passion that only I can give you."
He studied her and she was shaking.
"Don't worry, Waldorf," he sighed, sliding from the stool. "When you decide to rid yourself of your darling white knight, you know where I'll be."
He hadn't really expected she would take him up on that offer.
You can only suppress your real nature for so long. I hope I'm around when it explodes.
It had been so long. It had literally torn him apart when she transferred to Yale her sophomore year. He knew it was expected. It was what she wanted.
The only thing she wanted more than me.
Wasn't that the truth. But this time, she didn't come back to him. He missed her desperately and now the day was here. He thanked every day that she didn't turn up engaged to some preppy frat guy but he was 25 now and he knew it was only a matter of time.
She had been working abroad in Europe for a long time. A long time. Six months may have not seemed a lot but every time she returned to New York, he always missed his chance. She always would cast him a glance and... then she was just gone. She never came to him. And that was that.
His 7th annual year working at Bass Industries was important. So important that he didn't even consider her showing up to the sponsored party. But one moment he was speaking with investors and the next he turned around. And there she was. She was just standing there, looking as beautiful as ever. With a blond 6 foot whatever arm candy.
Well that was unfortunate.
He froze as her eyes locked on him. Her eyes were still and he couldn't look away. Then her life sized Ken doll leaned in and kissed her on the cheek. She smiled blandly and suddenly Chuck got his wind back. He flashed her a smirk and relished as her face dropped in confusion.
Yes, he was going to play this right.
He knew she had been avoiding him. If anyone knew that smirk, it was her. He had to admit, though, he was impressed at the lengths she was going to by protecting her call-boy. But Chuck was just biding his time. It was perfect during dinner when they all sat down. She sat next to her arm decoration while Chuck was down the table from her. That didn't mean she didn't miss how he licked his lips in her direction.
Her hand was shaking as she drank in her wine.
"So Blair," Lily announced over the table. "It's been so long. How long will you be staying New York?"
"Well I have a lot of employees keeping things up in Paris at the moment..."
"So the indefinite future," Chuck supplied.
"Possibly..." Blair said warily. She knew him too well.
"So where did you two meet?" Lily asked. Everyone knew tension when they felt it on the Upper East Side.
"Does it matter?" Chuck asked. "All that matters is that Blair has finally found someone."
"Charles," Lily warned.
"What?" he asked. "He should know."
"Know what?" Blair snapped and the man next to her jumped. Dan was suddenly very intrigued with his food while Jenny leaned in with fascination. "How you continually try to sabotage me?"
"Like right now?" he asked thoughtfully. "Are you really surprised by this?"
"Blair," said the man next to her in a hushed voice. "Are you alright?"
"Sure she is," Chuck sighed and Serena elbowed him in the side. "She has you, now doesn't she?"
It wasn't exactly his plan for the blowout at dinner but it worked nonetheless.
And there she was. A vision in his doorway. Permeated with the stench of booze. God, she was perfect.
"What is your problem?"
"A question for the decade," he sighed, leaning back with his bottle of scotch.
"Are you trying to ruin me?" she asked, stumbling slightly as she closed the door behind her.
"Try to be more specific," he said with amusement.
"I thought this would be different," she sighed, steadying herself against a chair. "I thought after all this time you would..."
"Just let you go?" he sneered. "I thought you knew me better than that."
"I thought you were over me," she said quietly.
"What would make you say that?" he asked. "Are you over me?"
She looked in her eyes and he knew the truth though she would never be able to voice it.
"What are you doing, love?" she asked shakily, trying to take a position on the chair. He gazed at her.
"And you, lover?" he asked. "You don't want him."
"He's easy," she murmured.
"Easy like me?" he smirked.
"Easy like I don't have to think about it."
"And that's better?"
"I didn't say better," she replied. "I said easier."
"There's only so long that you can hold it in," he replied. "At dinner... that was just the beginning."
"The minute you walked in, I knew," he said self assuredly. "I knew he was suffocating you. You're not like how you used to be. With me."
"And what's that?" she asked.
"Explosive," he grinned. "You are explosive. I remember. And the longer you keep it buried, the more I'm going to enjoy having you explode all over me."
"Explosive?" she asked casually.
Well, he really should have seen that one coming. It wasn't the first time, after all.
"Told you," he grinned, massaging the tingling pain on his face. She was leaning over his chair and their faces were inches apart.
"You think you know so much," she slurred.
"I know you," he said nonchalantly. "I'm glad you're home, Waldorf."
She stood up and sent him a glare. "You don't know everything."
"I know you're so drunk you can barely stand," he sighed, rising to his feet. He pulled her into him. "Does he know that? Does he know how drunk you get? Does he know how... flexible you are?"
"He doesn't know anything," Blair replied. "It's how I keep myself safe."
"Safe," he said. "But unhappy."
"What do you want?"
"I want you to be safe," he replied. "And happy."
He took her hand and she let him. She was asleep in seconds as she curled on his bed. He liked her on his bed. He liked being next to her.
The next day, she was as composed as ever. He shouldn't have expected anything else. He shouldn't have thought that one moment between them and a couple of hours on his bed would have changed anything. Because it really didn't. It never did.
However, she sat next to him this time. He didn't know if she was intentionally teasing him or not because this time, he could hear the secretive things that he could only imagine the things they were exchanging.
He wasn't disappointed.
This was quite amusing.
They were mundane things like "so when are we going back to Paris" (she's not going back, and if she's going anywhere, its going to be with me) and "I thought I was going to meet your father" (her father loves me, thank you very much.) And he knew that this was very fragile. He didn't even have to do anything. At least, anything drastic. He's just like to watch it crash and burn.
It didn't take much. It never did. It was what Chuck did best. He dropped innuendoes about limos and hinted about things no one but the two of them would understand.
Barely half an hour into it, she had excused herself from the table. He knew the signs to tell that she was having an acute panic attack. She used to have them when they were children. She would just psych herself out. It only took a few choice words to calm her down. Unfortunately for her, her boy toy would have no idea what those were.
I don't get it.
Sitting next to a clueless boyfriend was about as much as Chuck could take. The room had cleared out by now as Chuck listened to the running water in the bathroom.
She just started getting like this when we arrived in New York.
But just as always, Chuck couldn't do a thing. He had to wait for her to come to him. He had to wait for her to explode.
Is she sick? She's been in there for awhile.
Chuck was relieved when she finally emerged. He didn't think he could listen to wonderings that he couldn't answer anymore.
"Charles," Blair said hoarsely. His attention was immediately piqued and he knew that this wasn't just anything. "Leave."
"Why, when I could enjoy the show?" Chuck asked, leaning back on the couch, his arm thrown over the back.
"Because if you don't leave right now there will barely be a chance of me leaving my boyfriend for you."
And there she was. His perfection had returned for him.
Now the wonderings would really be done for good.
"We're over," Blair said in almost a bored tone before she left the both of them behind.
Chuck didn't know what he was expecting. But she wasn't there when he went home. Or the day after that. Or the day after that. It was on the most unremarkable day that he returned to see Blair right where she belonged.
"I think I exploded," Blair said breathily. Chuck nodded slowly, approaching cautiously, afraid she would flee like some skittish deer.
"I like it," he offered softly, hoping not to scare her. "What I have to ask is... what took you so long?"
"I really thought you were over me, Bass," Blair said.
"And why would you think that?" he asked inquisitively.
"It would have been easier."
"You're here now," he reminded her. "What changed?"
"You stayed," Blair siad. "I gave you every chance to run and you didn't."
"That might have something to do with the fact of how in love with you I am."
"The thought had occurred to me," Blair murmured, getting up from her perch on his bed. Her steps were unsteady but he knew her mind was clear.
His back hit the door with force as the wind was literally knocked out of him. Her lips were searching his and he permitted himself a deep throated groan. She gripped his hair and he clutched her close.
"There you are," he breathed.
"Shut up," Blair snapped and fumbled for his belt.
"There's my girl."
PS: I don't actually remember what my train of thought was when I was writing this, but when I was in the editing process, I realized that this totally wasn't canon. But I still like this even though it bothers me that its not canon, but w/e. I would also like to point out that the Yale SL with Blair is a repetitive thing in my fics so if you see it again, oh well.