A/N: This came just out of the idea that the only reason that Chuck didn't immediately go with Blair was because Nate was his best friend and he would be at least a little guilty. So just a warning, this is major AU first season. I haven't done and intensive AU before, but since its AU, maybe some of you will be forgiving. I'm sure you can guess by the first scene when this is supposed to take place. It starts sort of abruptly, so forgive me. It's another long one, but I like it a lot. Not that mature, but of course, there is Blair and Chuck interaction. This is way longer than it should have been, but once I started going, I just couldn't stop.

Summary: She watched him close he door behind him and suddenly felt extremely emotional. When she had woken up that morning, she was sure the night before had been a complete mistake, no matter how pleasurable it had been. Because nothing could feel that good without being bad.

Disclaimer: Characters are not mine and Keith Nelson was actually mentioned before as one of the guys asking Blair to go with them to the Snowflake Ball when of course Chuck, who knows her better, interceded.

It was on the second knock did Chuck realize who was on the other side of the door.

"Is she anyone you can get rid of?"

Chuck had to smirk gruesomely at the sound of his best friend's voice as he opened the door.

Unfortunately, he was not alone. Chuck scowled at his best friend's blonde girlfriend who had no idea that their parents were dating. He wouldn't be surprised if they ended up being related in the near future.

Serena passed him as Nate smiled apologetically at him.

"Please, come in," Chuck said in annoyance. He closed the door only to see the giftwrapped bag on the bar. He quickly hid it, for once relieved that two out of his three best friends were not the brightest bulbs.

"Where's the girl?" Nate asked in surprise.

"In my dreams," Chuck murmured, trying not to think of the very dream he had that very night. He still had hangover from last night.

"So," Serena said, interrupting the uncomfortable atmosphere. "Excited for Blair's party tonight? It's at Kati's brother's apartment."

"Ecstatic," Chuck drawled. He was aware of the look the couple shared at the wry comment.

"Well she's really stressed out," Serena said. "If he doesn't get what she put on hold, she might have a heart attack. She said she even went to confession this morning."

"She's not even Catholic," Chuck remarked, knowing that it had less to do with the party and more to do with something else..

"Oh," Serena said. "I thought she was kidding."

Chuck knew she wasn't. Not because he stalked her in his limo as he was prone to do, but because of the very real thing that had happened the night before.

"Was there a reason you came here," Chuck asked, "or was it just to relay to me Blair's daytime habits?"

"Actually, there was," Nate said. "I was just wondering if we could hang here for a bit. My house is kind of crazy right now."

"I'm guessing this has something to do with your father's indictment," Chuck said bluntly. Nate grimaced.


Chuck just shrugged his agreement.

"Great," Serena smiled cheerily. Chuck wondered how a single girl could be so peppy the entire time. He had to give it to Nate. If it were Chuck, his head would have exploded by now. He was more for the scheming, manipulative, witty brunettes-

"What?" Chuck asked, realizing he wasn't listening.

"I said then Keith will just meet us here for the party, then," Serena repeated. She gaged Chuck's reaction. "Is that okay...?"

It was his suite afterall.

"Keith," Chuck muttered. "Fine."

Keith. Nelson.

The plague of his fucking existence, he was sure. That six foot whatever lacrosse playing blonde with perfect teeth would be the end of him.

Keith Nelson was good looking, rich, and of course, smart.

He was also Blair Waldorf's boyfriend. And for that, Chuck hated him. He was sure after the previous night Keith would have gotten the ax. Then again, Chuck always miscalculated when it came to Blair. It was part of her charm.

"Bass," Keith greeted with as much forced politeness as possible.

"Nelson," Chuck said tersely.

So Keith didn't like him either. That made things marginally easier.

"Where's your girlfriend?" Chuck asked, apparently not casual enough for Serena and Nate not to notice as they entered the limo.

"She's meeting us there," Keith said coldly.

Chuck dropped the subject at Nate's pointed look. Chuck hated being so transparent. The only solace he had was the fact that Keith was sitting on the very leather seat that was still stained with something that Chuck wished he could throw in his face that very moment.

But he would wait.

He entered the oriental designed apartment to hear his name.

"Oh, there's Chuck. Maybe he knows where Keith is."

He turned at Kati's voice to see who he knew was already there.

Black dress and a coiffed updo, Blair was the epitome of grace and no one would have any idea the very unladylike things that transpired in the back of a limo between her and one of her best friends. Chuck was about to approach her when she swept right past him.

He turned to see Keith had emerged from the elevator behind him and looked away in disgust at their saccharine embrace.

Chuck took the opportunity when Keith went to put away her present to accost her. He trapped her against the balcony smugly.

"Hello, lover," he greeted. She rolled her eyes towards him and looked him in the eye for the first time since it happened.

"Ew," she said pointedly. He refused to break the heated gaze and she shifted uncomfortably. He was about to say something even more suggestive and unseemly when she changed the subject. "How's the burlesque endeavor going?"

He smirked. "Very... satisfactory."

Maybe mentioning last night wasn't the best course of action.

"Bart must be proud," Blair responded, hoping bringing up his father would shut off the sexiness factor that was sort of happening.

"I actually have you to thank for that," Chuck said, not willing to be deterred.

"Me," Blair repeated dryly, her curiosity getting the better of her.

"If you hadn't encouraged me so..." he trailed off suggestively, "enthusiastically, I wouldn't have been so sure Victrola was the right way to go. But I trust you more than anyone. And lo and behold, you were right."

"Shocking," Blair replied snarkily.

"Not really," Chuck smirked. "What was surprising is what you let me do to you after-"

"Chuck," Blair said. There was slight melancholy in her eyes and he knew the indirect game they had been playing since he arrived was over. "I want us to be friends."

"Friends," Chuck repeated. He felt the heat of outrage flood through his veins. He laughed bitterly. "Friends. Right. I do remember being very friendly to you last night."

She rolled her eyes. "Chuck, please."

"Please, what?" he taunted.

"It's not like you actually planned last night," Blair said. "I have a boyfriend."

"That didn't really seem to bother you in the back of my limo," he said.

"Are you completely morally bankrupt, or just a little?" Blair asked coldly. "Doesn't the fact that I'm in a relationship mean anything to you?"

"Not even a little," Chuck replied indifferently. "Not when you're not supposed to be."

"What would matter, then?" she asked. "Or are you just not satisfied until you get everything you want, ruining me in the process?"

"I would have to say that you're the one who was very satisfied last night."

"Stop," she whispered desperately. "What are you playing at? It's not like I'm not just some other girl to you."

She watched him recoil at the statement through narrowed eyes.

"It's not like.." Blair said uncertainly, "you wanted that to happen."

"I feel nauseous," he illuminated.

"Oh my god," Blair whispered to herself. She muttered something that disctinctly sounded like butterflies.

"What?" he asked in confusion.

"Nevermind," Blair said hastily. She quickly turned back. "You have to know how much our friendship means to me."

"Are you seriously giving me the 'let's still be friends' speech?" Chuck asked.

"It's true," Blair protested.

"That's disgusting," Chuck replied.

"Listen," Blair said. "Keith is going to come soon with my present and I think when he does you should be gone."

"It's not my fault your precious boyfriend is threatened by someone so secure with themselves," Chuck shrugged. "And that he is obviously not satisfying you in the way you deserve."

"Yeah?" Blair snapped, ignoring his lewdity. "At least he cares."


"He's a good boyfriend," Blair said.

"Because he can pick up a piece of jewelry that you already picked out?" Chuck sneered. "I can tell how introspective he is."

"He got me that diamond necklace," she boasted. "He's a good boyfriend. And he doesn't deserve this."

"How do you know he got you that?" Chuck asked.

"I called the store and they said it was picked up."

"Flawless logic," Chuck muttered. Her eyes betrayed nothing as he stared at her. There was a reason he never gave girls any serious time of day. This was stressful and felt like he was about to throw up.

Her eyes never wavered and he shoudlered past her, knowing how humiliating it would be if his nausea actually did increase notably. Blair sagged against the balcony, watching him walk away. So much so that she didn't notice her own boyfriend show up.

"Hello, beautiful," he said warmly, pressing a kiss to her forehead. She smiled tightly.

"Is something wrong?" he asked uncertainly.

"Nothing," Blair replied.

"Are you ready for your present?" he asked.

"Uh, yeah," Blair said, looking around the party. She took his hand, leading him away. "Let's go somewhere private."

She could feel him tense with delight and she covertly rolled her eyes.

Boys were all the same. She didn't know why she bothered. She led him into the bedroom, feeling dark eyes on her the entire time.

She sat herself on the orange covers as Keith brought the box from behind his back.

And she realized it was utterly too small. He opened it to reveal a diamond bracelet. The second thing on her list. He noticed the disappointment in her eyes.

"I'm sorry I couldn't get you the necklace," Keith said, clasping it around her wrist. "I know how much you wanted it. But when I got there, they said someone else had already bought it."

"But I put it on hold," Blair said.

Keith shrugged. "I'm sorry."

Blair realized they were entirely too close and the door was entirely too closed.

"Wait," she whispered as he leaned towards her. "I'm sorry. I'm just not ready yet."

Keith sighed but retracted. He was a good boyfriend.

"It's alright," he responded. "Do you want to go back to the party, then?"

"Sure," Blair said. "I'm right behind you."

She watched him close he door behind him and suddenly felt extremely emotional. When she had woken up that morning, she was sure the night before had been a complete mistake, no matter how pleasurable it had been. Because nothing could feel that good without being bad. Maybe she didn't feel for Keith the way she should. But that didn't mean that Chuck Bass would be any better.

She heard the door creak open, and she felt a flare of irritation that Keith couldn't leave her alone for five seconds. Surprise overwhelmed her as she saw Chuck tentatively close the door behind him.

"Expecting someone else?" he smirked at her relieved expression.


"I just saw Keith leave looking very forlorn," Chuck said, sitting even closer than Keith would have dared. "And here I thought after last night you would have thrown yourself into the throws of passion."

"Chuck," she shook her head before she saw what was in his hands. It was a box that seemed to be the exact right size.

"Is that for me?" she asked, without thinking. She looked up into his face and he was smiling.

"You're beautiful," he said, loving her unrepentance. She looked down at her hands, uncomfortable that Chuck Bass was saying those things to her, or to anyone at all. He lifted the latch, opening the box. Her eyes widened as her hand hovered over the necklace.

"It's the Erikson Beamon necklace," she murmured. He lifted it from the velvet without asking. "Wait. I can't."

"Yes, you can," Chuck said dismissively, clasping it around her neck. "Something this beautiful deserves to be seen on someone worthy of its beauty."

He smoothed the pendants on her collar and smoothed his hand over the heart shaped diamond dangerously close to where he shouldn't be touching.

"I really am sorry," he said.

"For what?" she whispered.

"For whatever you're blaming me for," Chuck replied.

"I'm not blaming you for anything."

He suddenly dropped a tender kiss to her shoulder and her flesh raised. She tried not to close her eyes, knowing he would take advantage of the situation.

"For last night," he uttered gravelly in her ear. She felt his lips on her ear and couldn't stop him when he placed them on her own. His tongue flicked at her lower lip.

She stood up suddenly. "I'm sorry. I can't."

"Why not?" Chuck asked, leaning on his elbow, gazing at her with the look he had worn the previous night.

"I'm a virgin," she reminded him.

"Right," he rolled his eyes. "I'm sure that Keith doesn't want to do anything about that."

"Do you?" she snapped.

"Last night happened, Waldorf," he said, standing in front of the mirror with her. "You're just going to have to accept it."

"Accept what?"

"We have an undeniable pull," he said. "And you know it."

He was nearing her again.

"I can't," she whispered. "I can't cheat on him."

"You didn't," Chuck said. "I did." Blair groaned in frustration.

"It's the same thing."

"And you were so innocent," he sneered.

"I'm not saying that I am," Blair said. "Being unfaithful is the worst thing you can do. Why don't you care more?"

"Because he's not my boyfriend," he taunted. "He's not my friend. I don't have to give a damn. And let's face it. You loved it when I went down on you. You would never scream like that for him."

"Ugh," Blair said, pushing him away in disgust. "He doesn't deserve this."

"He deserves your rejection more than I do," Chuck said. "Everyone in our world is selfish, self absorbed, and, lascivious. I'm just more upfront about it."

"We were drunk, Chuck," Blair said. "It shouldn't have happened."

"Actually, I was drunk," Chuck corrected. "Which is worse. You were completely sober and you let it happen."

"Whatever," Blair said, unable to come out with a winning argument, knowing there wasn't one. "I'm going back to the party." Chuck lunged forward and grabbed her wrist to prevent her from leaving.

"Don't pretend that you didn't absolutely love it," Chuck growled. "No one screams like that and doesn't mean it. Just try and not say my name when you're with him."

Blair wrenched out of his grasp, ripping the door open to see Keith standing right there.

"There you..." he started before he spotted Chuck, "...are."

"Hi," she said brightly, hoping he couldn't spot the welling in her eyes.

"Bass," he said coldly.

"Nelson," Chuck said, finally with a hint of a smirk. Keith didn't like that at all.

"What are you doing?" Keith asked, addressing Blair. Then he spotted it. "Isn't that the Erikson Beamon necklace?"

Blair put her hand to her throat, still hot from Chuck's gentle fingers from when he tried to kiss her.

"Chuck was just giving me my present," Blair said shakily, but enough to almost convince him.

"Right," Keith said, surveying Chuck as he left the room to pass them.

"Don't be too hard on yourself," Chuck said, clapping him on the shoulder condescendingly. "You just didn't get there first."

Keith wasn't oblivious to Chuck's gift of double-entandre.

"You're keeping it?"

Blair didn't like how Keith had made himself at home on her bed. She just didn't like him there. Like he didn't belong there. She never realized how out of place he was before. It was always the four them. Her, Nate, Serena... and Chuck. They had grown up together. She only started going out with Keith earlier that year.

But it was always the four of them. They had known each other for their entire lives. And suddenly Keith didn't make sense anymore. It was like they didn't fit. Like she fit with someone else and she just refused to see it before.

Blair looked down at her vanity where the Erikson Beamon lay. She made sure to wear Keith's present whenever they were together. Since her party he was brooding and snapped at the mere mention of Chuck. She knew they were never really close. Chuck and Nate had grown up together but Keith and Chuck just didn't mesh.

It was uncomfortable when they were all together. Chuck was the fifth wheel and she could feel his glare, now more than ever.

"Why not?" she asked. "It was a gift."

"A 35,000 dollar gift," he muttered. "I didn't even spend that much."

"You spent enough," Blair said pleasantly. She was so tired of this fight.

"Guys who aren't your boyfriend should not be spending that much on you."

"That's just Chuck," Blair said nonchalantly. "He likes flaunting his money. It's more about him than anything else."

He was quiet for a moment and she thought the topic was dropped.

"I want you to stop seeing him."

Apparently not.


Blair couldn't help outrage color her tone.

"He wants you," Keith protested.

"That's ridiculous," Blair rolled her eyes.

"It's not," Keith said crossly. "He comes onto you all the time."

"That's just Chuck," Blair said. "He does that with every girl, regardless if she has a boyfriend or not. Serena doesn't seem to care."

"Are you really comparing yourself and Serena?" Keith asked.

"And what are you implying?" Blair asked stiffly.

"Serena's a flirt," Keith said. "It's a wonder Nate puts up with it. She even talks to that Brooklyn guy."

Even though he was completely right, Serena was her best friend and she had an obligation to be outraged.

"Don't talk about her that way," Blair snapped.

Chuck would never talk about Serena in that manner.

Well, maybe he would, but they were friends and he was allowed to do that.

She really had to stop comparing her boyfriend and Chuck. It wasn't right.

"It's the truth," Keith said. "And the truth is that Chuck wants to screw you."

"Chuck wants to screw everyone," Blair said, ignoring the flush rising up her neck at his words. She hated how hot it made her feel. And how whenever that conversation came up pertaining to Keith, she felt nothing of the sort.

"Not my girlfriend," Keith retorted and Blair felt that anger in her again. Like she was some sort of possession.

"You just don't know him," Blair said.

"And you do?" Keith asked suspiciously.

"He doesn't mean it like that," Blair protested.

"Then what does he mean it like?" Keith asked. "Because don't tell me he's harmless. That girl from Brooklyn knows better than anyone."

"He will be the first one to tell you that was a mistake," Blair said. "He just got carried away."

"Why are you defending him?" Keith asked.

"Because he's my friend," Blair said. "Are you honestly asking me to stop hanging out with one of my best friends? A friend I've had since I was four?"

"Hanging out is not what is on his mind," Keith said.

"Oh, really?" Blair asked. "Did he tell you that explicitly?"

"He didn't have to," Keith said. "You heard him. He was taunting me."

"That's just him," Blair said again.

"So he has an excuse just because he's..."

"Chuck Bass?" Blair filled in.

"Is that what you're telling me?"

"Yes," Blair said, not really thinking.

"I want you to stop being around him," Keith said again.

"I don't know what you want me to say."

At the knock on his door, Keith Nelson was the last person Chuck had expected to see. He looked and opened the door, puzzled, an emotion he was very unfamiliar with.

"Nelson," Chuck said.

"Bass," Keith said, pushing past him into his room.

"Make yourself at home," Chuck said coolly.

"You're the one who's lusting after my girlfriend, so I would lay off the snark if I were you," Keith said.

"So we're just getting right down to it, aren't we?" Chuck smirked.

"Are you even going to deny it?" Keith asked.

"What can I say?" Chuck asked. "Your girl is hot stuff. Who wouldn't?"

"So she's just another lay to you?"

"Maybe if I laid her," Chuck shrugged. He was sure Keith would have punched him in the face if he didn't continue. "But the simple fact is there is just something about her that fascinates me. I'm sure you wouldn't understand about her cool exterior and fire below. But yes. That makes her different than all the rest."

"Stay away from her," Keith warned.

"That is something that I simply cannot do," Chuck sighed. "There is just something animal and chemical between us and even loyalty can't stop that. So she didn't proposition me. Yet. But it's only a matter of time."

"You think I'm not on to you," Keith said.

"I'm pretty sure it was made very clear that you are, in addition to my confession," Chuck shrugged. "That's one of the downsides of your girlfriend. She makes you incredibly transparent."

"I've seen you, you know," Keith said. "Staring at her at your father's brunch."

"What can I say?" Chuck asked. "She just looked so delicious in that virginal white that it made me want to see if it was true."

He could tell that Keith was restraining himself and Chuck wasn't really sure why he was provoking him. Blair would be furious for doing that to her boyfriend. But it was just so easy.

"And at the masquerade," Keith said. "I would strongly advise you not to tell my girlfriend that she looks ravishing."

"Trying to lower her self esteem?" Chuck asked. "That's the basis for a good relationship."

"I mean it, Bass."

"So am I," Chuck said. "But I can't understand how not to tell her she looks ravishing when all I want to do is ravish her."

Then he really did get punched in the face.

And he didn't even tell her boyfriend how he went down on her yet.

It was the second knock on his door that day and he wondered vaguely if Keith had come back for seconds.

To his surprise, it was the thing he had been waiting for even longer. He put down the glass of scotch he was holding to the side of his face on the bar. He opened the door and there she was, leaning against the doorframe. She wasn't drunk. But she looked desperate. And that was how he liked them.

"Hey," she said huskily, adopting his own tone of voice. He backed away from the door, making it apparent that she was invited in.

"Hey," he said back, his body thrumming, preparing for what he hoped she had come for. She walked tentatively into the room as though she were readying herself for assault.

"You just missed your-"

Her lips suddenly cut him off as he heard the door close distantly behind them. Caught complete offguard, something that was not known to happen to Chuck Bass, he just froze beneath her touch as she kissed him deeply.

His body suddenly flared back to life as he gathered his bearings. He grasped the back of her head and pushed her against the wet bar. A throaty moan sounded somewhere in the back of her throat and he answered with a deep throated groan of his own.

All he could think was, finally-

And then she pushed away from him.

Chuck stumbled as she ducked underneath his arm, dragging her fingers uncharacteristically though her hair in an act of distress.

"What is the problem?" Chuck asked, frustration grinding through his teeth.

"Oh my god," she was saying quietly to herself. "Oh my god, oh my god, oh my god. I cannot believe this is happening."

"Are you serious?" Chuck seethed. "You came to me."

"I'm sorry," she said, finally addressing him, slight wetness showing in her eyes. "But I just had to see..."

"If there was something here?" he asked smugly. He slunk towards her with his predatory walk. "And what did you determine?"

"How can this be happening?" she asked herself instead.

"You mean besides the obvious display that night?" Chuck asked. "Well I have a lot of reasons. The main of which is we're the same. You know it and I know it. You and I are magnetic. And nothing is going to change that."

He wasn't sure if that was the winning argument or not, but it was the truth. He realized this the more time they spent together and now it was more obvious than over.

"I have to go."

Or not.

Something's coming.

She was late.

She slid from the car he had sent for her and she knew she was late. It wasn't hard to miss the blonde couple in the middle of the crowd where everyone could see. Suprisingly enough, she didn't look at the golden couple of the Upper East Side. Immediately, her attention was drawn to the couch right in front of the stage

All she saw was the back of his head, but she knew it was him.

She always knew.

"Hi," she said breathlessly, taking a seat next to him. It was a moment before he turned silkily, a smug look on his face like he knew she would show.

"And where is the darling Keith?" Chuck finally asked, his voice rough with the effects of scotch. She knew he already knew the answer. He had that look upon him like he could look right into her mind and know everything she was thinking.

She wouldn't be surprised if he could.

"He... couldn't make it." She tried to sound nonchalant but his smirk curled and she knew he saw right through her. He knew she was lying. It was obvious. They had a fight. About him. And she could tell that he was pleased with his own inference of the situation.

"I told you he would love it," she changed the subject encouragingly. She hoped the topic of Bart Bass would deter Chuck's attentions.

"It was touch and go there for a while," he said, looking geuinely appreciative of the outcome. "But you believed in me."

She rolled her eyes. "Always."

He laughed and noticed her down a glass of Dom.

"It's the '96," he told her.

"Like you know me so well," she sneered.

"Always," he taunted.

It didn't take long for him to get smashed.

For a moment, she was sure he was doing it on purpose. All it took was a simple "I'll walk you to the car," and Chuck curled comfortably around her as though he had every right to.

She didn't miss the satisfied look he tried to hide as she allowed his arm to come across her shoulders.

"If you vomit on my Dior, you're paying for it," she said crossly. She couldn't say that she trusted her friend.

But she trusted him.

That's the way it was with Chuck Bass.

"Please," he scoffed. "You know I have a higher tolerance than that."

"Your lack of walking in a straight line is proving otherwise."

"Are you sure it's not an act?" Chuck asked into her ear, though they were away from the loud music of the club, comfirming her worst fears.

"Why would you need to act?" Blair asked innocently, opening the limo door.

"To get you to take me home," he said, sliding in before her.

"Sure, Bass," Blair laughed. "Whatever you want."

It was better just to humor him when he got in moods like those. She closed the door behind them as the limo started off.

"I had to try," Chuck said, casually slinging his arm over the back of the seat. She knew he wasn't trying anything. This was just how they were. Comfortable. At times she knew their friends would look at them like they were too comfortable. She didn't mention it. Because it didn't mean anything. But they were staring at each other and she had to clear her throat.

"Thanks for the lift home," she said vaguely, hoping again that she could control the outcome.

He smirked, not answering. She wondered distractedly if this was how his little girlfriends felt when his silken words made their dresses disintegrate.

"Keith wasn't really busy, was he?" Chuck asked, saying the name to remind her that she did have a boyfriend and that he knew it too, regardless of the way he was moving towards her.

"Don't act so broken up about it," Blair rolled her eyes. "You two aren't the best of friends."

"On the contrary," Chuck said. "I am pleased to have his girlfriend all to myself."

"Maybe she is too," Blair smiled, realizing the implications of her brazen words. She couldn't even stop when he looked at her so seriously like that. She didn't mean it like that... exactly. But sometimes when they were alone together, that's what it felt like.

He boldly but his hand on her thigh and her breathing stopped in her throat.

"Stop me," he whispered heatedly into her ear. She attempted to stop her eyes from rolling to the back of his head. He smelled so delicious and his breath was so hot. She wondered if she had any other boyfriend, if it would matter. If she would still be letting him touch her like this eve if she was with someone else.

It might have been the biggest mistake of her life or the best. She didn't stop him. She just waited.

He put his nose to her hair, placing his lips to the hollow behind her ear. His hand was sliding up her skirt and she couldn't find the will to stop him. Maybe because Keith scowled at her when she said she was going to the opening of Chuck's club or his backhanded way of saying what a manwhore he was.

And maybe she just didn't care.

Because Chuck's lips were caressing her neck and she tried not to mewl with pleasure. His hand had reached the point of no return when her brain finally told her to try and stop him.

Operative word: try.

"Chuck," she protested quietly, stopping his hand at the wrist. "You don't really want to do this."

He pulled away, his hand still stopped up her skirt, staring determinedly into her dark eyes.

"So stop me," Chuck commanded. One would consider trying to pull another person's hand from your skirt trying to stop them, but she didn't. She stilled his hand but she didn't remove it.

And he took her silence and wide eyes as an answer.

She was sober. She had maybe one glass of champagne.

And despite how slightly sloshed he was, he knew when he got when he was drunk, or even tipsy, his mind would be more forceful and he did exactly what he wanted. His determination to get what he wanted was even stronger and this was happening.

She was letting it.

He gently laid her horizontal over the seat and for a split second, she thought of Keith. She thought of Keith when he was pressuring her for sex. Chuck had only once and she wanted it more badly than she had with anyone else.

He hovered over her and she was completely aroused by the dark look of lust in his eyes. She trembled slightly as he pulled at the hem of her skirt. He zipped her out of it, pulling at her undergarments.

This wasn't how she imagined it. She didn't think he would be doing this selfless thing. She thought he would be the selfish Chuck Bass, wanting sexsexsex, not caring that she was a very obvious virgin.

But he lowered his head to where no man had put his hand, let alone mouth, and she opened her mouth in a silent scream. Her breath came out in hot gasps out of her throat as her hips moved as though of their own accord. Her throaty moan finally reached his ears and he couldn't help but grin. Because she was saying his name, then screaming it, then spasming around his tongue.

Blair woke up with a start, feeling his phantom presence all over her in her perspiration and the heat in her lower abdomen that made it very obvious of one thing.

Chuck Bass was right.

Perish the thought.

He was on her mind all the time. Her dreams were nothing but him and that magic that he could do with his tongue. It was her first experience and she finally realized it would not be her last.

Not with him.

Even if she was still technically a virgin.

Chuck wasn't sure if he liked this couch at Victrola anymore. He shifted uncomfortably where Blair sat with him last time he was here as he stared at the strippers.

Sorry, burlesque dancers.

But, really, come on.

Blair's complete and total rejection of him still gave him a dull sting even though Mr. Scotch was helping him with that somewhat.

Victrola was the right endeavor to make. She was right. She was always right. For once, Chuck wished that he was right. He wasn't built for this. He wasn't built for this unrequited love and it was killing his reputation to be lusting after some lax bro's girlfriend. It was downright disgusting.

But then all of that disgustingness fled from his mind as he thought he was having déjà vu when she sat in the exact same place she had before.

"Hey," she said with such simplicity, he was sure she just didn't leave after giving him the most amazing tongue he ever had.

He would so love teaching her how to perfect it.

For him.

She was watching the dancers and he was starting to think that thoughts like those would get him into trouble.

"Where's your boyfriend?" he asked, again reminding her that this maybe wasn't the best.

"What boyfriend?" she asked absentmindedly. He blanched. She was looking, but she knew what his expression was. She was smiling and he liked it.

"I know you don't want to talk about it but..."

She just shrugged. She didn't have a care in the world right now and he was getting that feeling of wanting to take advantage.

"Relief," she said, almost laughing. "I feel relief."

"Really," he said.

"I didn't realize how... enslaved I felt."

"What happened?" he asked curiously.

"He tried to tell me who I could and couldn't hang out with."

"Is that so?" Chuck asked arrogantly. She finally looked at him, softness returning to her features.

"I just decided that I couldn't give you up."

His stomach dropped and he had to restrain the urge to maul her right there. She turned her attention back to the dancers with a self satisfied smile. God, she was perfect.

"I know, I've got moves," Blair said, and immediately his attention returned to thing he needed from her.

"Really?" he asked, his insides fluttering.


"Then why don't you go up there?" he dangled in front of her.

"No," she said almost with surprise. "I'm just saying I have moves."

I remember.

So does my tongue.

"Come on," he nudged her playfully. "You're ten times hotter than any of those girls."

And God, you're hot.

"I know what you're doing, Bass," Blair said dryly. Then she paused to look at him. "You really don't think I'll go up there."

He paused. He wasn't so sure anymore. For a girl who let him give her head, he wasn't sure. But he knew what he had to say to get her to do it. Because Blair Waldorf couldn't refuse a challenge.

And neither could he.

"I know you won't do it," he said confidently. Her jaw dropped as though he had just insulted her.

"Guard my drink," she said before flouncing off. Before he even realized what had happened, her dress had pooled at her feet and Chuck knew he just needed to have her virginity for himself. It was his birthright, he was sure.

Her hips swayed and she laughed. She had more alcohol in her than she had before, but he knew she still had her clarity. And she knew something too.

Chuck Bass always had and very much wanted her right now. He stood up, drinking from her own glass. He raised it to her and she shook out her curls.

He liked that.

It was in the light of the bar after she descended from the stage as he stared at her barely-there slip that she noticed it. She grabbed his face and tilted it towards her, staring at him studiously.


"I can't believe he punched you."

"Oh," Chuck said, pulled away from her grasp. "That."

"Yeah, Bass," she teased. "That."

"Let's get you out of here," Chuck said, not liking how the drunken patrons were staring at her excuse for a slip. She laughed lightly at his protectiveness as he slung his arm around her shoulders, leading her out.

When they entered the limo, he tried to ignore her ministrations to his face. She pressed ice to his eye.

"Stop, Waldorf," he said sternly, but secretly liking the tension.

"What?" she asked. "The great and powerful Chuck Bass doesn't need me to take care of him?"

"I don't," he said.

She put the ice down, gingerly turning his face towards her.

"You sure?" she asked softly into his ear before pressing a tender kiss to his sensitive eye.


He was glad it was only one syllable or he would have stuttered.

"Really?" she asked seductively, kissing past his eye to his neck. "How about now?"

He stifled a groan, trying to prolong this as long as possible. He pulled away slightly.

"You were... amazing up there," he whispered into the curve of her delicious ear. She was staring at him and he knew this was happening. She leaned into him and softly tasted his lips.

He smirked.

"You sure?"