A/N: I haven't had a quote fic in awhile. I've actually been reading normal ones. But I just couldn't resist with this one.

Summary: I Love you. You're all I bloody think about. Dream about. You're in my gut. In my throat. I'm drowning in you.

Disclaimer: Quotes belong to Buffy.


I Love you. You're all I bloody think about. Dream about. You're in my gut. In my throat. I'm drowning in you.

-Spike

--Crush


I Love you. You're all I bloody think about.

It started innocently. At least, as innocent as Chuck Bass could ever get or could ever hope to. To begin with, he refused to believe in love. It wasn't that he wasn't loved as a child or looking at his precious golden boy of a best friend and his new girlfriend made him want to vomit. He honestly didn't think it existed. Not for him, anyway. He was too selfish and he knew this. It wasn't for him. It just wasn't.

But then it happened. He didn't know how or why. Maybe it was just things like grab Nate and finish this, report back with details or you look ravishing, if I were your man, I wouldn't need clues to find you.

They were just friends. But then why was he staring off longingly while Blair dragged Nate to his own suite to seduce him? And why did he want to look under that mask to see if he could really ravish her? The truth didn't present itself until it was blatantly obvious that she was going to accept his challenge and dance.

But that wasn't just it. It was the fact that she took it the step further. It was the fact that she dared to strip off that dress that was so hideous, he actually had been wondering all night what was underneath. It did not disappoint.

All in all, this wasn't how this was supposed to go. He almost felt guilty about thinking about her after he could still smell her perfume on his clothes. Not even because she was someone's recent ex, but because he wasn't supposed to do that. He didn't fantasize about women like that, especially after they fornicated. It was a one time deal with him. But with her... he knew he was falling into something different and completely unnatural but he couldn't help it.

He couldn't help fall for her stupid charms and the endearing way her virginity ensured she had no idea what she was doing. God help him, he thought it was cute. And he didn't do virgins. That wasn't how it went. They were inexperienced and he had to be wary of his every move, trying not to hurt them.

Blair was something else altogether. He liked that he was the first one to touch her. He wanted to instruct her, knowing that he was the first to penetrate her. She was sacred and untrodden ground and it made him hot. Damn virgin.

That was how he found himself being a creepy stalker as he watched her form clad in black complete with a funeral veil and sunglasses coming out of a church. That was when he knew. This woman was Blair. She was something so different and so mesmerizing that she was just... Blair. That was when he knew he could quite possibly end up like all those other saps who lit candles and put on music. It was enough to make him vomit.

So he sneered back with equal fury when she curtly rejected him with simultaneous innocence and fervor that just made him want her more. He couldn't help it. She was scalding through his veins now and when she let him plant a seemingly innocent kiss on her shoulder, he knew there was no going back. She was his friend and now she was so much more. Now her lips descended on his of their own accord and he realized he might actually be in trouble now.

Dream about.

"Charles."

His heart immediately quickened its pace at that sound of her sultry voice. She was the only other person who called him by his full name besides his father. And that voice definitely did not belong to his father.

He sat up in his bed, not wanting to believe that she was actually there. But there was no denying it as he sat shivering with anticipation. Blair Cornelia Waldorf had crept into his room with no shoes and barely a slip on.

He just hoped this dream wouldn't stop right before the good part like all the others had. He felt paralyzed, watching her scarlet painted toes flatten against his carpet at her approach towards him. And he still couldn't move. His voice had left him just like his ability to move.

"Have you missed me?" she asked, almost tentatively, though he knew it was her work at seducing him.

"You should have come home with me," Chuck sad hoarsely, finally finding his voice.

"My mother would have been worried," Blair sighed, her steps becoming more dramatically measured. "Especially if I came home smelling like a man that wasn't my boyfriend."

"I would have liked to teach you everything you could learn in my own bed," Chuck smirked, finally finding the lechery he had been missing since she seemed to just float into his bedroom.

"Do you wish I was in your bed right now?" Blair taunted throatily.

"Consider it an open invitation," Chuck murmured huskily.

"Then consider it an acceptance," Blair said back. He didn't remember seeing her walk any further but suddenly she was at his side. He pulled himself up against his headboard.

"You don't need to get all fancy for me," she said, leaning in close to him. His eyes fluttered shut at her sensual scent. He could smell sex coming off her body in waves and he wasn't sure if he could contain himself.

"Open your eyes, Charles," Blair breathed in his ear as he felt her fingers sweep his hair form his face. He let his eyes take her in as she glittered in her silvery slip. She reached forward, bracing her hands on either side of his body as she crawled up onto his bed. She shifted her dark hair over her shoulder, letting it trail over his own when she leaned into him again.

"Did you miss me?" she asked again. He wanted to open his mouth to reply but hers was suddenly covering his and he wondered where his breath went again. She pulled away, sitting back on his legs as though analyzing him.

"Blair," he breathed.

"Tell me you want me," she commanded in her soft voice.

"Yes," was all he could manage. He wanted to add a God yes but her lips weren't on his own mouth anymore. They were traveling down his body. Further... and further. Until...

Chuck jerked awake with a gasp. He was in a cold sweat in his own cold bed with no tantalizing beauty whose virginity he had just taken with no hesitant permission that very night next to him. Her scent from his slumber had faded though he was sure he could still feel her phantom heat all over him.

He was shaking with arousal before realizing that he had in fact already had sex that night. And he wanted more of it. That wasn't how it was supposed to go. He set them up just to knock them down. No more than once. But after he had dropped her off at her penthouse without her giving even a second look back at him, he knew he wanted more. He needed more.

That wasn't the first time he had ever dreamed about Blair Waldorf but it certainly meant more now than it ever did. Now it wasn't just a fantasy that he pushed in the back of his mind when he saw the golden couple together. It wasn't the one he was in complete denial of.

Now it was a memory. It had become a reality because he wanted it to be. She made it a reality. It wasn't that exact situation. In fact, it was even hotter in the back of his limo, but that didn't change the facts. Now he knew. He knew he had to see her again.

Worming his way back into her good graces had took less effort than he originally perceived. That rejection in front of the church had been a blow to his ego, certainly. But she was Blair Waldorf. He knew her. And he knew that what it would take was effort to get back to her. But he also knew that it was just a front. Because he had put one up too.

He thought it would take more than a shiny necklace to make her warm up to him. He didn't consider it so much as bribery as flattery. And she was flattered. He could tell by the way she grabbed his face after that well placed kiss on her shoulder that was platonic before he realized what she was doing. She was kissing him like she wanted him. Like in his dream. And suddenly he was kissing her and ripping her out of the confines of her dress.

And then it happened.

He wasn't sure he heard her correctly but then she moaned louder. It had fallen on deaf ears towards the party goers which he was pleased with. But he just wanted to hear it again.

"Charles."

It was then he was certain. Not only did he obviously not lose any of his game, but apparently he also had some precognitive abilities.

He had already known, but now he was sure. Blair was for him and him only. And he was going to grab her with both hands.

You're in my gut. In my throat.

Butterflies seemed like the most inane thing to be plagued with. And he cursed her for them. But then he was suddenly realizing that it wasn't butterflies that were stirring in his stomach. It was nausea. It didn't take him a second to know exactly why the four single malt scotches he managed to consume before downing the entire decanter was rebelling against his body. And he was doing it right in front of her.

He didn't see pity in her eyes but he didn't see what he also wanted to see. Which was disappointing, to say the least. They were empty but he knew she wasn't judging him. She never judged him. She just let some pretty boy put an arm around her. But she still never looked away from Chuck.

And as he turned the corner to the bathroom of his suite before the acid scalded up his throat and the contents of his stomach was swirling in front of him.

"Great party."

He started and immediately turned at the sound of the voice he still dreamed about.

"I don't remember inviting you," he spat at her blasé form against his door frame. That was supposed to be his game, not hers. At least she was sans NYU frat guy.

"I was Serena's plus one," Blair shrugged, taking a step towards him. If he was dreaming, it would be measured and she wouldn't have any shoes on. If it was his dream, she would be in his arms again.

"You're back for Spring Break and instead of going to Fort Lauderdale like the rest of the suburban scholarship students, you come to my suite," Chuck surmised.

"Chuck," Blair sighed at his innocence. "Do you really think so little of me as to group me with those charity cases?"

"Well you left me," Chuck replied shortly. "Your common sense can't be that sound."

"When exactly did I leave you?" Blair asked. "Remind me, because all I can remember is your misplaced drunken revelations that I was cheating you."

"You were the one who threw the vase and slammed the door," Chuck said. "You were the one who did the leaving."

"Then tell me," Blair said. "Is this going to be a repeat of six months ago? Because I can just walk out of her right now."

"Please," Chuck sneered. "Don't let me keep you. I wouldn't begrudge you depriving me of your ethereal company."

"How drunk are you right now?" Blair asked, not moving from her post in his bathroom. What she cursed herself for not remembering was how lithe Chuck was even when he was drunk. One minute she was leaning against his doorway and the next she was pressed against the opposite wall, the door already bolted shut.

"Enough to take you against this wall right now," Chuck threatened. Blair couldn't help but let out a breath of throaty laughter. He couldn't expect her to be afraid of him. She was one of the only ones who wasn't. His grip tightened on her upper arms in anger.

"Don't mock this," he growled.

"It's just amusing that you think you have to vie for my attention," Blair said. His breaths were getting ragged and he had forgotten what a minx she could be.

"Who's the arm candy you brought?" Chuck asked shortly.

"I told him I wanted to make my ex boyfriend jealous," Blair said. "You'd be surprised as to how accommodating drama majors can be."

His dark eyes were impenetrable. She couldn't see into them, couldn't decipher them.

"So I guess the offer's off the table, then," Blair said nonchalantly at his dark gaze. He was always most honest when he was drunk.

"So you don't have a boyfriend," Chuck said.

"Obviously," Blair said.

"Good," he said. "Guilt was always a wasted emotion anyway."

Blair didn't bother asking what. She didn't get a chance as he did take her right then and there. It was better that way. He taste scorched down his throat. Where it should be.

I'm drowning in you.

Chuck stared into his reflection above the sink as the water ran. This woman was driving him insane. He couldn't remember the last time he was himself. The Chuck Bass he remembered from his youth never would have put up with a woman dominating every thought and feeling. But he hadn't been Chuck Bass until she crawled all over him, bathing him in her scent.

He thrust his hands underneath the steady stream of frigid water and threw it on his face. He had to clear his mind of the brandy that he was forced to consume after the stock of scotch had miraculously disappeared from his wet bar. Maybe it had something to do with the fact that he drank it all.

"You look like hell."

"Thank you, Nathaniel," Chuck snapped as he sauntered through the apartment that Nate had been staying in since his girlfriend kicked him out of theirs for not hanging up the towels.

"This isn't healthy for you," Nate said, surveying Chuck's ragged appearance.

"Neither is being whipped," Chuck snorted, "but you seem to have that well accomplished."

"And where are you going again?" Nate hinted.

"To get what I came for," Chuck retorted.

"She's just going to reject you again," Nate said, flipping through Cinemax.

"So how's your girlfriend kicking you out again?" Chuck asked. "Going well?"

Nate didn't say anything as Chuck slammed the door behind him.

Blair cursed herself because she thought hiding in plain sight after the night before would have been a good course of action.

Clearly, she had misjudged the situation. She always had.

"Knock, knock," Chuck drawled in the doorway of her room. Blair's eyes flickered up to his and he knew that she had nowhere else to run.

He took steps towards her and she realized her predicament on her bed was, yet again, poor planning.

"Imagine my surprise when I woke up to find you not in my bed," Chuck said. "Because I thought the night before proved another touchstone to our relationship."

"What relationship?" Blair asked. "We had sex. It's not really a revelation."

"It is when you sneak into my suite in nothing but a slip and start crawling all over me in my bed--"

"Ancient history," Blair retorted.

"It was less than 20 hours ago," Chuck said, his eyes narrowing.

"I learn from my mistakes," Blair replied, noticing how he was inching towards her in the most casual way possible.

"Mistakes that started almost exactly eight years ago?" he questioned acutely.

"You think you're so smart," Blair sneered.

"Actually you make me feel like a fool with each passing day," Chuck said. "All I can wonder is when it's all going to stop."

"When you leave me alone."

"Not that," Chuck replied angrily. "Do you still not realize what you do to me?"

He watched with satisfaction she shifted uncomfortably. She could never really handle the truth.

"You can't keep doing this to me, Blair," he warned. "You can't keep coming around for hours at a time only to leave me in the morning. I can't have fleeting moments, even months with you just to have it ripped all away. I did it when we were teenagers but I won't do it anymore."

"So what changed?" Blair asked.

"Nothing," he said. "That's the point. I'm never going to get over this. Over us. And you're fooling yourself into thinking that you will."

"I don't want to do this anymore," she admitted.

"Good," he replied. "Then kiss me when I say I love you."

"Only if you kiss me back."

"I'll do more than that," Chuck smirked.

Her slip shimmered beneath his hands and he knew for sure. He really was precognitive because she was forever. And he saw that from the beginning.