A/N: Something I wrote awhile before. Somewhere in season 5 - definitely before the finale. But as Chuck and Blair dictate, they are timeless.

Summary: She had forgotten. She had forgotten how real he could be, and how last night he had been the sweetest. Pardon her for only just remembering the claw marks on his back.

Disclaimer: Nothing belongs to me. All is CW's Gossip Girl. And thank you to my friend and beta, comewhatmay.x.

As her eyes opened, the light was already cutting across her through the venetian blinds. She cursed herself inwardly.

It was morning and she definitely wasn't supposed to be there.

Wrapping the sheet around her, Blair eased herself into a sitting position, attempting to extricate herself.

For some reason, Chuck Bass' limbs seemed to be magnetized to hers. She couldn't recall that when she had finally slipped into unconsciousness. They had been on opposite sides of the bed.

His chest rose and fell in his sleep and for a moment, she actually felt herself pause. She wished she could just wrench herself away but something was stopping her. He looked so different while he was unconscious. Last night he was fierce. He was an animal that made her claws slide out and her toes curl.

She had to get out.

It was slightly humiliating to be crouching on Chuck Bass' floor looking for her underwear, but then again, her dignity was already nowhere to be found. The previous night was a blur. All she remembered was hair grabbing and teeth gnashing. In the most animalistic and violent way, the events of last night eclipsed everything else.

At least she was granted one small grace - determining the whereabouts of her clothing. Her slinky black dress draped over the chair, she sat on the bed, strapping on her shoes.

That was her first mistake of that day.

"Was it good for you too?"

She supposed that he hadn't really been sleeping. Chuck's breath caressed her ear as he wound an arm around her waist.

His touch was a shock to her system. His hands were warm, sending sparks down her spine. She would convince herself that it was instinct and revulsion that caused her to jump away into a standing position.

But when finally looked over her shoulder and into his eyes, logic told her differently.

His smirk made her heart pulse in a way that she had long since forgotten.

She hated him.

"I'll take that as a yes," he said smugly, not bothering with modesty or clothes.

"You're not taking anything," Blair said sharply.

"Is this you trying to convince me you weren't… roused for round two?" he asked suggestively.

She hated it when he did that. He knew exactly what he was doing, and maybe even what he was doing to her. It was how she always felt around him, even before whatever they were exploded her world and made her see fireworks.

But that wasn't happening now.

It wasn't. She was leaving. And nothing he could do or say would stop her.

"Just trying to sneak out without you waking up," Blair sneered delicately. This only seemed to please him more. His smile was slow and her skin hot.

"You are sneaking out," Chuck emphasized for clarification.

"What else would I be doing?" Blair asked.

"Paint me a picture," Chuck said easily. "You do remember last night."


"Meaning you were the one that jumped at me like a cat in heat," Chuck said. "You were the one that showed up last night."

"After you called me."

"I wasn't forcing you into anything," Chuck said.

"Emotional manipulation," Blair stated. "You wrote the book on it."

"I may have penned a few chapters, but you get the author's credit," Chuck said. "You were the queen and I was just the advisor. That's the way it's always been. Even now."

"We're too old for these games."

"I'm never too old for you. You should agree."

"I thought you were going to do something stupid."

"Funny," Chuck said. "Do you usually wear slinky black lingerie to your rescue missions?"

"You called me," Blair reminded him again.

"And you just came running over."

"Forgive me if the number of times you've called me drunkenly you've been on the edge of a roof."

"Ouch," Chuck said in mock pain.

Blair had to take this opportunity. She had finally zipped up the back of her dress, and Chuck was helplessly immodest.

"Now, if you don't mind me—" Blair said, preparing her leave.

"I don't," Chuck replied easily. "You're the one who keeps staring."

Or maybe his vulnerability was her disadvantage. She was sure the bastard was actually using it as a strategy.

She had forgotten how well matched they were.

"Am not," Blair contradicted. He was smiling again. It wasn't the smug or arrogant look of triumph. It was fondness. Blair's petulant outburst made him like her. She had forgotten. She had forgotten how real he could be, and how last night he had been the sweetest.

Pardon her for only just remembering the claw marks on his back.

"You sure?"

She hated that. She hated when he did that and he knew exactly what he was doing.

"Just trying to shake off the overwhelming sense of shame," Blair replied sweetly.

"Good luck."

She recoiled.

"Do you really think that we would be standing here if we weren't so embedded in each other?" Chuck asked.

The playful tone was gone. They were close and he was serious in a way that she had never seen before.

She had forgotten what it was like.

No one looked at her the way he did.

"Did you ever think that we've broken up so many times because we're not supposed to be together?" Blair asked.

Chuck snorted. "We were never together."

"We were," Blair argued. That made Chuck smile. She remembered just as he did—even if it was only one night.

"I took your virginity," Chuck said. "That's it."

"That's all?" Blair snapped.

"You tell me," Chuck said. "It was one encounter, and yet somehow, it stayed with both of us. I was eighteen, I told you I loved you. I didn't expect anything in return."

"You expected me to believe you the one time you weren't being selfish."

"It was the one and only time I was in love," he replied. "And you married him."

"You told me you loved me a year after the fact," Blair said. "How was I to know?"

"You knew," Chuck said.

"And when I was nineteen I told you I loved you."

"It didn't change anything," Chuck said. "You were still married."

"I got an annulment."

"That had nothing to do with me."

But even as he said it, a current passed between them. There was always that unspoken thing. That thing that existed between them that told them it wasn't just one time. It wasn't just one maidenhood broken by a close friend that she trusted more than anything else.

This meant something.

"Nate and I were never meant to be," Blair said softly. "I know that now."

"And who are you meant to be with?" Chuck asked.

"You're not meant to be with anyone."

But that hadn't been his question.

"No one ever scared me before you," she added.

That wasn't something that he was expecting. Admitting feelings had never been their strong suits. That was the point. It had always been just right, but too late. They were always fighting and pushing, denying and fighting.

Last night changed everything.

"Do you think I'm fearless?" Chuck asked. "I tried so hard to be. To push you away, to make you need me."

"You never had to try," Blair said. "But something changed last night. You called me."

"And you knew that I wasn't really in trouble."

"You're in trouble," Blair said. "We're both in trouble."

"I've never been so scared," Chuck agreed, "and yet, so invigorated."

"I should have left hours ago."

"You should have left years ago."

They were closing the distance subtly, but very clearly.

"Why did you call me last night?" Blair finally asked.

"Because I snapped," Chuck said. "And then you came. And I snapped in all the right places.

"Tell me that it was just the novelty."

Chuck narrowed his eyes.

"What if it's all because you've been building me up all these years after only having me once?" Blair asked.

That pulled out his slick smirk and she felt herself tumble to pieces.

"Well last night proved I wasn't building up anything," he said. "And you know it."

He was right.

Of course he was right. Of course that time in a limo all those years ago just came rushing back. She had been a bumbling virgin but he had taken care of her. Now it was different. Now they were passionate halves of one whole tossing and scratching and biting. Somehow, after all this time, they came together in the most organic sense. They fit together. They made passion and scars like no one else and both of them knew, it would never be as good as the two of them together.

He was hot all over her and she knew. This was it. This was the feeling she thought she could manufacture with her adolescent husband.

This was her soul on fire.

"You're still scaring me."

"Isn't that the point?" Chuck asked. "Everything that happened led us to this point."

"You weren't just waiting around for me."

"Wasn't I?"

"How could you be?" she asked. "We were just friends."

"I thought we were," Chuck said. "But just friends went right out the window the moment you begged me to take your virginity from you."

"I did not," she said hastily.

There was that smile again.

"I would have served you forever," Chuck said. "I still would. But the moment I felt your claws on my back was the moment I realized this was something so much more. What I thought was loyalty was just the foundation for something I still am at a loss to explain."

"I know," Blair said softly. "I came running. And last night…"

It was too much. Too much emotion, too much genuine feeling that she had never been pressed to address before.

"Say it," he urged.

"When I walked in and saw you standing there…"

"The dam broke."

They had rushed at each other like feral animals, knowing that it was the moment. It was the time. It was what they had been waiting for, for who knows how long.

"I didn't know I had been waiting for you," she said.

"Are you still scared?" he asked.

It was the first time she'd smiled—not counting the previous night.

"Shaking in my Louboutins," she said easily. "And you?"

"Ecstatically so," he drawled.

It was his voice, she decided.

That was what made it so easy to crawl back into bed with him.

Or rather, crashing back into him and combust.