A/N: I wrote this like last summer. Not one of my best, but the point was for Chair hotness while being realistic. I am really not proud of this and the ending is sort of lame. Now that I think of it, the story is weird too, but w/e. I just got inspired and had to submit it.
Summary: It was the way he spoke to her. She had her seductive ways and he had his. His voice was like gruff velvet and he would lick her with it. She would crumble in his hands when he would use that bedroom voice of his.
Disclaimer: I own nothing.
Blair examined her reflection in the tinted window. It was just a reflex by now. She didn't feel comfortable being here, but it was something that she had to do. She wanted to take things slow. She had been hurt.
It wasn't like Blair was condemning war on him or anything. That wasn't her intention. They were just doing what they did best. Another blow out between them after the graduation ceremony after her transfer to Columbia. What was really the problem?
"I cannot believe I'm privy to this," Eric muttered from the seat next to hers in the limo.
"It's not a big deal," Blair assured him. Eric looked at her pointedly and she knew there really was no response to that.
"You're firing the first shot," Eric told her. "I hope you know that."
"Eric," Serena sighed. "Just let it go. You know you can't stop them once it's started. It's like an avalanche."
"And yet both of you are going along with it," Blair sighed, proud with herself.
"Against my will," Eric pointed out.
"It's not like we're breaking and entering or anything," Blair said. "You work with him at Bass Industries too. You have an equal share of the Hampton's house."
"It was Bart's," Eric said dryly.
"And you were legally adopted by him, so it's yours too."
"You're really going to do anything to throw this party," Eric shook his head.
"Are you on my side or his?" Blair demanded.
"Well he is my brother."
"My point exactly," Blair said. "You're his brother and he's going to forgive you. What do you think I'm going to do to you if you betray me?"
"Okay, fine, then," Eric relented. "What about you? What do you think he's going to do to you?"
"I can take care of him myself," Blair smirked. "I've been doing it for 23 years."
"Yeah, and indulging in sexual favors from him for 6 of them," Serena pointed out.
Blair shot her a look.
"Oh look," Eric changed the subject. "We're here."
It took Blair all of 25 minutes to fill his house with the Hampton's A-List.
"So he doesn't even know you're here?" Serena asked as they sipped martinis.
"He knows you're here," Blair smiled sweetly. "It's not his fault that you had to bring your best friend on your vacation."
"You're so mean," Serena laughed. "I have no doubt that you can beat him at his own game. But wouldn't it be easier just to make up?"
Blair snorted. "Please. That bastard is going to have to grovel for my forgiveness."
"What did he do again?"
"No the point, Serena," Blair exclaimed. "The point is that he's going to be very, very sorry. And he knows it. Or he will know it in a matter of hours."
"You know these things just work themselves out when it comes to you two," Serena reminded her. "You both miss each other terribly, or the sex, but you keep it inside until it explodes at one of our mother's dinner parties. Need I remind you the Christmas incident of your sophomore year in college? You broke Rufus's waffle maker."
"It's not like he's not well off anyway," Blair waved it off. "He married your mother after all."
"See?" Serena asked. "You're just downright nasty when you're not with him. That entire month of December was... 'are you really going to wear that? No one will marry you if you carrying boho bags in Brooklyn.'"
"That was one time," Blair rolled her eyes. "And I was--"
"I was not," Blair sputtered. "We just..."
"Got in a terrible fight which you told no one about which was highly embarrassing for my mother when she seated you two next to each other because when she doesn't, you two end up ditching the dinner all together to go mess around in someone else's bedroom because apparently your own isn't good enough. And the only reason I knew that the two of you had broken up was because you always get drunk after you two fight."
"Blasphemy," Blair said simply. "That's a Bass MO, not mine."
"This is true from what Eric tells me after all those times that Chuck passes out in his room. But you two are more alike than you think. You two always share the same MO. And we both know that you're going to become a Bass one day, one way or another."
"No," Blair said harshly. "You're wrong."
Serena knew she had crossed a line. The one thing that she couldn't touch was the subject of commitment. Blair wouldn't hear anything that had to do with a ring or a marriage license. She was paranoid. She thought it was a jinx and that Chuck would leave her. Little did she know conversations with Eric that Chuck had when he was wasted. She was right. It was only a matter of time. But Blair didn't know that. She reveled in ignorance.
"Here," Serena sighed compassionately, topping off her martini. She took a drink and realized that Blair wasn't doing the same. Her gaze had leveled on a bunch of girls in skimpy bikinis.
"Who are they?" Serena asked curiously. She shouldn't have. "You were bragging before that you only invited the A-List."
Darkness had shrouded Blair's eyes and Serena knew that it was only a look she reserved for those who were really in for it.
"Guests of... his," she finally said. "Or so they claim. Apparently he lets them hang out here whenever they feel like it."
"Oh," was all Serena could think of to say. Only when it came to Blair's one and only would Serena get to see Blair like this. It was like she was so overwhelmed, she couldn't even deign to mask her emotions like she usually did.
"Checking out the competition?" Eric asked, sipping a drink of his own. It was strange seeing him like that. He was so moral even if he had just turned 21. He was probably the only one on the Upper East Side who abided by those rules.
"Do you think he's had sex with them?" she asked, her cold exterior and shield already up, hiding her former vulnerability.
"No," Serena said instantly, trying to calm her.
"Of course not," Eric said sarcastically. "Of course Chuck would just leave some skimpy girls running around his house half naked without doing anything."
Serena shot him a look.
"Thank you," Blair said. She wasn't being sarcastic either. Eric was the only one who would tell her the truth. That was one of the main reasons she liked having him around.
"They're in high school," Blair said sullenly. And the vulnerability was back.
"Oh, come on, Blair," Serena protested. "You're hardly middle aged. You're smarter and--"
"Save it," Blair snapped. Then that evil smirk came out. The one that had developed itself in its entirety summer of '09. "No matter. If I can take care of the devil's spawn of a Bass, I can take care of some half priced call-girls."
Eric widened his eyes at her retreating form pointedly at Serena..
"There's nothing we can do about it," Serena said quietly. "Just let it go."
"Let it go?" Eric asked. "You know this is only going to end in shame and explosions."
"That's the way Blair wants it," Serena shrugged.
"Looks like she's going to get it," Eric motioned towards the confrontation that was about to occur.
Needless to say, Blair was about to strangle the minors. And there stupid trim waist lines. Of course Chuck would want that. Why would he want Blair when he could have some skanks that were actually skinny?
"Do you have tequila?"
Blair stared at the girls that had obviously thought they had just walked into a rave in Tijuana and where about to do body shots.
"Chuck usually has it for us."
"Of course Chuck does," Blair said in a condescending tone. She couldn't help it. "Because there is nothing Chuck Bass likes more than fully inebriated and weak high school girls that he can take advantage of."
"Jealous?" Blair repeated with disdain. "Jealous that I don't get date-raped by immature billionaires who don't bother to learn you name? No. I think I'm good."
"Well," the other one sighed. "He's anything but immature."
And that was when Blair lost it.
Chuck walked through the door. He had just got the cleaning crew to take care of the mess. Now he had to take care of his. Eric was smiling at him from the door.
"Where?" he asked immediately.
"You should have seen it," Eric laughed. "I know 'epic' is used out of connotation so much that it has lost all meaning... but it really was."
"Where?" Chuck asked again deliberately.
"You don't even want to hear her excuse?" Eric asked helpfully. "She said it wasn't technically breaking and entering since I was officially the one who threw the party."
"Irrelevant," Chuck replied. "If I was worried about random parties thrown at my houses, I wouldn't have a social life."
Eric sighed. "I don't think you want to find her."
"Why the hell not?"
"Because she wants you to find her."
Chuck paused in the threshold.
"What?" he asked quietly.
"That's what I mean," Eric replied. "You better brace yourself." He couldn't understand the small smile that had graced Chuck's lips.
"I think I'd rather not."
When he found her, she was waiting for him, like Eric said she would be. And it was hot. There was really no other word in existence that could describe her. But he was keeping his stance. He was mad, and he was going to let her think that he was mad. And that was it. But she didn't seem fazed by him. At all. What else was new?
"Blair," he said, walking into his room. She was sprawled across his couch nothing happened between them after the graduation or what she did in his own house just to get back at him.
She was donning the most innocent in white, her limbs sprawled across the couch in a pose that made him want to attack her right there.
She watched him standing there, just staring at her. Right where she wanted him. And she wanted him. That much was what she had decided after everything. It was easier this way. It was easier just to seduce him into forgiving her and gaining the one person she could call home.
"You're here," she said simply. "You missed the party."
"I got the gist from Eric," he said.
"I'll bet he didn't tell you everything," she said coyly. Chuck stared. She wasn't doing this. She wasn't doing this. She was one tricky bitch. And he wanted her back this instant. But to win the prize, he had to play the game. That was always just the way it worked between the two of them.
"Did you really throw their drinks at them?" he asked.
"If the 'them' you are referring to are your child brides," she said disdainfully, "then yes. But it was more of a light toss."
"That was expensive crystal," he said. But honestly, he didn't even care about the sluts that she should have strangled.
"Oh, no," Blair said with a sad innocence. Maybe he really should have braced himself for this. "I hope you're not mad at me."
She innocently put her right leg over the back of the couch in a provocative, yet seemingly completely normal pose, her back flat against the couch, while her dark hair fanned out around her. He swallowed harshly, trying to gain the upper hand. It wasn't working. She was winning this game of seduction and she knew it. Her white skirt slid down several inches from her creamy thighs while her blouse had rode up her flat stomach. This time he had to close his eyes and look away. She was such a bitch.
"Chuck..." she said in a beckoning voice that made him want to yell. She was such a cheater. She was using that voice. That purring voice of hers that she knew got him ever since that first night in the limo.
"Chuck," she said again. "Look at me."
Whenever she gave him commands like that, she knew that he had to obey her. He wanted to give her everything even after... well, everything.
"Please tell me you're not mad," she said innocently, her hand sliding down her bare stomach. This wasn't fair. "Please."
She knew that he loved it when she begged. She was using every possible one of his weaknesses to her advantage. That voice, his name, her provocativeness... and it was all working.
Chuck took careful steps towards her until his shadow had covered her body, standing right over her. Her nails were blood-red against her thigh. The ones that used to scratch down his back in that exquisite, painful pleasure. The way he liked it. Her leg that was thrown over the back of his couch the way her leg really she just be thrown over his back.
"Should I be mad?" he asked, his knees touching her side against the couch. "Do you want me to be mad?"
"I don't want you to be mean."
"Mean is what I do best, lover."
This time it was her who had to turn her head away. It was the way he spoke to her. She had her seductive ways and he had his. His voice was like gruff velvet and he would lick her with it. She would crumble in his hands when he would use that bedroom voice of his.
He took his moment. While her head was turned he put his knees to the couch, one on either side of her. She held her breath for a moment, waiting for him to make the next move. He just stared at her. Then he leaned into her ear like he was so prone to do. It was another one of his weapons.
Where does he put his hands... does he... have sex with me...
Yes, the power of the husky whisper in her ear. It got her every time. And he knew it. As it were, they were well matched. And that was just why they worked.
"I know why you came here," he whispered, his hot breath hitting her cheek. She was enveloped in the all encompassing scent of scotch that was always present on him. She breathed him in. She wanted to devour him. "You wanted to see me."
"I wanted to hate you," Blair admitted breathlessly. "After the last time we spoke, I wanted revenge."
"So you threw a party and didn't invite me," Chuck mused. "That hurts."
"I more just wanted to catch you off guard," she told him. "At least, that's how it started."
"And how did it end?"
"You tell me," she replied. "We seem to be pretty close to the end."
"Oh, no," he disagreed. "The end is far off for us."
She liked it when he said things like that. Her hands contracted at his collar. He closed his eyes and leaned into her neck. She felt him inhale her. Her nails turned to his neck and he groaned at the red mark she made.
And just like that, they weren't fighting anymore. Usually their make ups starting out with screaming matches, but throwing drinks at some whores seemed explosive enough for her. But the make up sex... that was as when it got explosive. Fireworks. That was what he liked to call it. It was his most romantic side.
In fact, he got so 'romantic' that once their bodies were possessively as one again, they completely rolled off the couch and ignored the bed completely in their throws of passion.
"You know," he breathed heavily into her hair, "I made a promise to myself that if you hadn't come back to me in another day or so, I was going to come for you myself."
Blair kissed him fiercely at that confession. He just turned her on fire when he said things like that. Especially right in the middle.
"I guess I took you by surprise for once," Blair breathed out. He groaned rather loudly again.
"You always have," he replied heavily. "You've always taken me by surprise."