A/N: So I changed the ending a total of THREE TIMES. I 3 Nirvana and hearing this song just made sense to make a fic. The first parts really wrote themselves but it was the ending. So give thanks and worship to comewhatmay.x because without her, this would have been horrible and disgraced Nirvana's amazing name. Just a little something to stave off the coming war angst.

Summary: "Happy 23rd," he said after her, her scent still perfuming the air around her like a heavenly aura of sin. He felt sick.

Disclaimer: Lyrics belong to Nirvana's "Aneurysm," which is AWESOME. You should listen to it. GG doens't belong to me and thanks to the awesome beta comewhatmay.x. Again.

Come on over and do the twist
Over-do it and have a fit
Love you so much it makes me sick
Come on over and do the twist



It was a first. That was all he could say about it. Sitting in a pool of his own semen, watching her walk away, he had to hand it to the girl. This was a first. She had twisted over to him after descending a burlesque stage, a dress less than she had first arrived with. And he couldn't help himself. He just couldn't.

So he offered her a ride.

So he let her kiss him.

So he asked if she was sure.

But after that, all bets were off.

Because this was the first time this had ever happened. He was sitting there, still sticky from their very recent excursions as the door of the car slammed with her retreat. He sat there, astounded at what had just happened because he honestly didn't know.

While it was happening, of course he was an expert. He knew how to slide that strap down her silky shoulder and discard his clothing in the most efficient fashion. It was what he did.

But Chuck Bass did not do Blair Waldorf. Worlds had collided. Earthquakes had shattered foundations. Armageddon had officially just begun. Because Chuck Bass had just taken Blair Waldorf's virginity. And she had wanted it.

This had never happened before. He liked the action, he didn't like the person. That was just how it was. But the thing was, he had always liked her. She was the only female he could really tolerate. And the thing was, he liked her. The thing was, he wanted to do it again.

Chuck opened the door to his suite quietly, entering the dark space and waited. The door closed behind him and he just sat in the darkness, mulling over what had just happened. The first thing he had deduced was that Nathaniel finding out would be a disaster. But apart from that, he didn't think much farther. It didn't matter. He was going through a quarter life crisis.

He was starting to get that feeling that he had when he had too much to drink. But that hadn't been right at all. He hadn't needed it that night. He walked calmly to his bathroom and sat himself on the tiled floor, waiting again for something that he wasn't sure of. It was almost half an hour later when it came.

Without warning, Chuck leaned forward and vomited violently into the bowl. His stomach churned painfully and he wretched again.

The rest of the night was spent just pacing like a caged animal around the room. No drinks. No women. Just the acidic thought that he was probably about to have an aneurysm. By the time the sun rose, his hair had the look that he had been through a windstorm with the amount of times he had run his hands through it.

He made another decision.

He was going to put on some clothes.

That was as far as his brain would let him go at the moment.


It was her perfume, he decided. The way she elegantly slid her sunglasses from her face and made him watch her walk away was definitely the problem. It was her perfume because as soon as he returned angrily back to his suite, he proceeded to vomit again. He was going to tell her to shop somewhere else because her perfume was nauseating.

Except for the fact that he didn't seem to be able to get enough of it the previous night.

And he vomited again.


I haven't slept. I feel sick like there's something in my stomach. Fluttering.

It wasn't her perfume.

He liked her perfume. It smelled nice. It smelled like Blair. He realized this fault as he nuzzled his nose into her silken curls in the darkness on an orange bed that belonged to neither of them. It was in his euphoric haze that he found her sliding away from him again and he felt the impending familiarity of nausea.

He thought of her. How he pulled her hair from and ripped urgently at her dress. The way her purr vibrated through her throat as he kissed down her neck.

He shouldn't have. Because his aggressive and lusty tendencies shocked him to his core. His need for her scared him. She was so beautiful and so cold and so perfect...for him. He thought of how he could make her laugh and their intense gazes and just right this felt. To a point of insanity.

He stumbled into Kati's brother's bathroom, spilling his guts out as he thought of what a horribly, disgustingly perfect bitch Blair was.

And how he still wanted her. Even after a second time. That was unheard of.

He vomited again.

He hated her perfume.


Cacharel Promesse

There was no scent like it in the world; and he would know. He just stood there in the middle of the party, feeling his insides twist and minuscule wings flapping futilely at the cage of his heart.

He thought he was over this.

Then again, five years, a decade wouldn't make much of a difference. She had infected him with her stupid sweet smell and even in the throng of vodka, gin, and rum, he could smell it.

"Don't have an aneurysm, Bass."

He had been staring and everyone knew it.

"Can I help myself if a beautiful woman parades herself right in front of my line of vision?" he smirked back.

Hands on her hips, her head cocked to the side, she gave a short laugh of disdain before attempting to move past him. Reflexively, his hand shot out, making sure she would stay by his side. His voice hit that low octave he so loved to use with her as he pressed his mouth against her ear.

"I do love how you twist your tight body over to me," he said heavily. He felt the grinding pain in his foot as a result of her feigned disgust and pointy heel.

(He knew she really liked it.)

"Don't do that again," she sighed prettily before moving past him again.

"Happy 23rd," he said after her, her scent still perfuming the air around her like a heavenly aura of sin.

He felt sick.


"Are you alright?"

It was the last thing he wanted, least of all even expected. Right as he opened the door to the bathroom, she had been standing right there. He wasn't going to go about fooling himself into thinking that she hadn't heard exactly what he was doing in there. And quite frankly, he thought he was over this phase.

Apparently 2007 was having a comeback.

"Since when do you care?" Chuck asked, shouldering past her. He didn't hear a cleverly constructed retort or even a curt I don't. It caused him to foolhardily turn in confusion before he could make himself leave her behind like he had promised himself that he would.

Instead she said something that he wasn't expecting.

"I don't know."

They stood there, the both of them, staring at each other, knowing that was one sentence neither of them expected.

"I heard you in there," Blair answered stiffly, covering up the awkward exchange. "I was just wondering if you were alright."


Again, the answer would have been the same if she had chosen to voice it.

"Nothing is wrong," he finally said. "Something I ate must not have agreed with me."

"Oh," she said. "Well-"

"Since when have you become the patron saint of the well being of others?" Chuck asked. "Last I checked you were the high priestess of the porcelain goddess."

Her eyes darkened perceptibly but she didn't comment. A spark of anger flared through him and he hated how someone so small and seemingly so weak and twisted just as he was could make him so insecure.

"Just out of curiosity," he said before Blair had the mind to stomp in the opposite direction, "how long ago did you develop this strange compulsion to stalk me?"

His snide delivery hit the mark exactly as her lip curled in disdain. "Excuse me?"

"It couldn't have been that long ago," Chuck mused. "It just seems strange that the woman who swore she detested me is right outside of the bathroom I was in."

"Is there a reason for your sudden yet highly precedented bout of egotism?" Blair returned coolly.

She always had been his match.

"Just a general observation," he replied. He found himself walking towards her as though he had no will of his own. When it came to her, he wasn't sure why he was even surprised anymore. She didn't move away as he got close enough to whisper in her ear. "My theory is that it happened somewhere around your birthday. You. Me. The back room of yet another party. As our anniversaries go, this one seems to be one of the more fulfilling ones."

Blair did push him away this time.

"I'm not surprised," he said, watching her she was careful to distance herself from him. "Because just like back then, again you abandoned me after I serviced you at your party so selflessly."

"Selflessly," Blair repeated, finding her voice for the first time since his snide comments. She laughed bitterly, feeling his rapt attention. "You know, that's what I loathe about being in love with someone who is just like me. They use all of your weaknesses they discovered against you at the most inconvenient time."

Chuck stared at her as she did take her leave away from him that time. He reached out before she left his proximity, whirling her around so he could stare into her face. He used to proclaim how apt he was at discovering her lies when she could tell them so flawlessly to his face. Lately, that had not been the case. But suddenly he had to wonder.

That didn't seem to be a lie at all.

"What did you just say?" he commanded. Blair shrugged away, but it was the first time that he didn't find that she seemed to be walking away from him. They were finally walking towards each other in the most organic sense.

Like this was final.

"Did you really think I ever stopped?"

"I tend to believe someone when she tells me that she doesn't love me to my face," Chuck said darkly. Blair shrugged at him in the most blasé manner that he wanted to shake her for torturing him in that way.

"I guess I changed my mind."

But even as she turned her back on him, he couldn't help but smirk.

Butterflies churned his insides uncomfortably.

Come on over and do the twist