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bantha_fodderSo Sloane said to me, hey Pen, do you want to watch a show where they sort of hate each other, have sex in limos and engage in power play? And I said, WOW DO I EVER.
A Sphere in Space, Without Markers by Pen
Gossip Girl, Blair and Chuck, M for sex in limos.
Set during and after the one with the burlesque club.
***
"I think we just broke up," Blair says, and Chuck blinks.
"What?" he asks, and she strides on past him, like maybe she knows what she's doing, like maybe she knows where she's going.
Blair lies.
**
His leg is warm against hers, and she wraps her hand around her glass, perches on the edge of the seat. "Guard my drink," she says, like maybe he's trustworthy, and runs.
**
Under the blinking lights she bites her lip, slides her hand down her thigh, looks down at her feet. The dancer next to her laughs. "Make eye contact, honey," she hears, "It's how you get what you want," and when she looks up Chuck stares back, his hands in his pockets, and he doesn't look anything like Nate.
She doesn't know what she wants.
**
"Thanks for the lift home."
His hand on hers is soft, and when she draws away his grip loosens but it's still there, and when he asks "Are you sure?" she thinks, shut up, and it's okay, she's known him long enough, she maybe knows what he means.
**
In the limo he rolls until his face is close to hers, until his body presses her into the seat and there's no fucking way she's giving him that and she shoves him away, rolls until she's straddling him.
"Why, Blair," he grins, "I didn't know you were that into me."
She'd stop the car and call a cab, but his voice breaks a little on her name and that's all the hint she needs, that moment of weakness that she pushes through. She squeezes tight, and he breathes in, loud and deep. She leans over, brushes her breasts against his chest, her cheek against his. "I didn't know you were that desperate, Bass," she says. "Been awhile."
He groans, and she grins; reaches for his zip.
**
There, in his fucking limo, she touches the roof and slides down. She bites her lip and he groans, and she may be new to this game but she's the queen bee, and she never enters a new game without knowing what rules she's going to be breaking, what rules she's pushing aside.
"Fuck," he says, and she laughs.
"Your skills of observation astound me, Bass." She squirms a little as he laughs, a rumble that echoes low in her belly and hurts and stretches, and maybe she frowns, because he rests his hand at the small of her back, and his hand is warm through her shift.
"Don't squirm, Waldorf," he says, like maybe he knows. "At least, not yet."
She flexes as she rides him, feels the sweat roll down the back of her neck and his hand, clammy against her thigh. She grimaces, and fuck but she's not going to stop. Beneath her, Chuck's skin is gleaming, and he closes his eyes.
He shudders, and she turns her head; watches the city lights pass by as he reaches between them; watches the lights of the city brighten as she squirms, and maybe squeals, but she doesn't want to talk about it.
The leather is cold against her knees.
**
"Ugh," she says, sprawls back against the seat.
"Don't tell me you didn't enjoy it, Blair," Chuck says, smirks. Fuck, but she hates that smarmy-arsed grin.
"I've had better," she says, primly; she tugs her dress down to cover her bare ass, tries not to flinch when he says, "That's not what I've heard."
"You heard wrong," she says.
"Blair," he says, his voice soft. "Don't lie to me."
She tilts her head back, tries to see the stars through the rear window. "Don't talk to me," she says, and when he rests his hand on her knee he tap tap taps until she slides away, towards the door. "I said don't talk to me," she says, and he nods his head, looks out the window.
She still knows what he's saying, though, and in the reflection she meets his eyes, doesn't look away.
**
"Shouldn't we be home by now?" she asks.
"Define 'home,'" Chuck replies, and she rolls her eyes.
"Kidnapping is against the law, Bass," she says, fumbles for her purse. "I'm gonna call the cops."
"Please, like you even know the number on the limo."
She looks around. "I'll tell them we're on the corner of, something, and something, across from the Bvlgari store."
Chuck turns, his head pillowed by his arm. "We're in a car, B."
"And your driver's lost."
"He's perfectly capable of doing what he's told," Chuck says, pulls her close, and suddenly she knows why they've been driving and not getting anywhere.
She slaps him. "Take me home, Chuck." He draws back, and in his hand her cell phone glints in the dim light. "And give that back!" He shrugs, starts to wind down the window, and she grips his chin, hopes her fingers leave marks. "Don't even think about it, you shit."
The wind ruffles his hair, and he grins, her phone half out the window. "Come and get it, B," he says.
So she dips her head, takes his ear between her teeth, bites down hard.
He yelps and laughs, doesn't let go of the cell. His breath is warm against her cheek. "Come and get it," he repeats, his voice a whisper.
So she does.
**
She's on her knees, his hand in her hair, when she realizes she's made a tactical error. She kisses his thigh, kisses his belly, and pushes back, sits opposite him, her legs sprawled, her foot nudging his. He blinks, confused, and she grins.
"You don't want your phone?" he asks, flipping through her contacts.
"Nah," she shrugs. "I don't really like the colour. You can keep it as a memento."
He stares at her, and she holds her breath, taps patterns on his foot. His hair is messed, the gel on her hands. She wipes them clean on his tie, discarded on the seat beside her, and whistles. "I don't need your phone," he snaps.
"You could sure use the friends," she replies, and for a moment she meets his eyes, thinks maybe his in-drawn breath means she's hit home, hit too hard, and for half a second she's worried.
"Why do I need friends when I have you?" he asks, and the moment is over.
"You don't have me," she says, and she isn't sure if it's a statement or a promise, but he bridges the distance between them, pushes his leg between hers and pushes her back into the seat.
"I don't want you," he breathes, and kisses her.
His hand shakes, and she doesn't think about it.
**
Later, he drops her by the kerb, and she has to fight with him for her shoes. "I'm not here for your fetishes!" she whispers, and when he says, "Oh, but I think you are," she punches him in the belly and pulls, nearly falls on her ass on the side of the street.
He laughs. "Can I walk you in?" he asks, and she tilts her head. Taps her feet on the pavement and looks up at her house, empty and echoing.
"Well," she replies, "You did just ruin my shoes."
"Can't dirty your feet?" he asks. He walks forward and slings her over his shoulder, and she hits his back; when he stumbles, she stops. No point messing the rest of her in a fall.
"What are you, some sort of neanderthal?" she settles for instead, her voice quiet. Her purse in his hand, he unlocks the door, trudges up the stairs. At the top he drops her to the floor, and in the process he cops a feel of her thigh.
"A charmer," he says. As she twists the handle of her door, he mouths the skin at the back of her neck; runs his hand down her side and strokes the underside of her breasts.
"You're walking me in?" she says, and they stumble as she opens the door.
"I'm going to do more than that," he says, his hand still on her side, and she pauses. "Let me do this," he whispers, and she grins, grips his belt buckle and closes the door.
"Okay," she says, and he pushes her back against the door. "But don't tell anyone."
Chuck slides to his knees. "Oh, don't worry," he says. "I won't tell a soul."
Down the hall, a light switches on, but Blair doesn't notice.
**
Blair may have thought she made a mistake when she was down on her knees, but she's made a bigger one now she's on her feet.
Nobody keeps a secret.
END
A Sphere in Space, Without Markers by Pen
Gossip Girl, Blair and Chuck, M for sex in limos.
Set during and after the one with the burlesque club.
***
"I think we just broke up," Blair says, and Chuck blinks.
"What?" he asks, and she strides on past him, like maybe she knows what she's doing, like maybe she knows where she's going.
Blair lies.
**
His leg is warm against hers, and she wraps her hand around her glass, perches on the edge of the seat. "Guard my drink," she says, like maybe he's trustworthy, and runs.
**
Under the blinking lights she bites her lip, slides her hand down her thigh, looks down at her feet. The dancer next to her laughs. "Make eye contact, honey," she hears, "It's how you get what you want," and when she looks up Chuck stares back, his hands in his pockets, and he doesn't look anything like Nate.
She doesn't know what she wants.
**
"Thanks for the lift home."
His hand on hers is soft, and when she draws away his grip loosens but it's still there, and when he asks "Are you sure?" she thinks, shut up, and it's okay, she's known him long enough, she maybe knows what he means.
**
In the limo he rolls until his face is close to hers, until his body presses her into the seat and there's no fucking way she's giving him that and she shoves him away, rolls until she's straddling him.
"Why, Blair," he grins, "I didn't know you were that into me."
She'd stop the car and call a cab, but his voice breaks a little on her name and that's all the hint she needs, that moment of weakness that she pushes through. She squeezes tight, and he breathes in, loud and deep. She leans over, brushes her breasts against his chest, her cheek against his. "I didn't know you were that desperate, Bass," she says. "Been awhile."
He groans, and she grins; reaches for his zip.
**
There, in his fucking limo, she touches the roof and slides down. She bites her lip and he groans, and she may be new to this game but she's the queen bee, and she never enters a new game without knowing what rules she's going to be breaking, what rules she's pushing aside.
"Fuck," he says, and she laughs.
"Your skills of observation astound me, Bass." She squirms a little as he laughs, a rumble that echoes low in her belly and hurts and stretches, and maybe she frowns, because he rests his hand at the small of her back, and his hand is warm through her shift.
"Don't squirm, Waldorf," he says, like maybe he knows. "At least, not yet."
She flexes as she rides him, feels the sweat roll down the back of her neck and his hand, clammy against her thigh. She grimaces, and fuck but she's not going to stop. Beneath her, Chuck's skin is gleaming, and he closes his eyes.
He shudders, and she turns her head; watches the city lights pass by as he reaches between them; watches the lights of the city brighten as she squirms, and maybe squeals, but she doesn't want to talk about it.
The leather is cold against her knees.
**
"Ugh," she says, sprawls back against the seat.
"Don't tell me you didn't enjoy it, Blair," Chuck says, smirks. Fuck, but she hates that smarmy-arsed grin.
"I've had better," she says, primly; she tugs her dress down to cover her bare ass, tries not to flinch when he says, "That's not what I've heard."
"You heard wrong," she says.
"Blair," he says, his voice soft. "Don't lie to me."
She tilts her head back, tries to see the stars through the rear window. "Don't talk to me," she says, and when he rests his hand on her knee he tap tap taps until she slides away, towards the door. "I said don't talk to me," she says, and he nods his head, looks out the window.
She still knows what he's saying, though, and in the reflection she meets his eyes, doesn't look away.
**
"Shouldn't we be home by now?" she asks.
"Define 'home,'" Chuck replies, and she rolls her eyes.
"Kidnapping is against the law, Bass," she says, fumbles for her purse. "I'm gonna call the cops."
"Please, like you even know the number on the limo."
She looks around. "I'll tell them we're on the corner of, something, and something, across from the Bvlgari store."
Chuck turns, his head pillowed by his arm. "We're in a car, B."
"And your driver's lost."
"He's perfectly capable of doing what he's told," Chuck says, pulls her close, and suddenly she knows why they've been driving and not getting anywhere.
She slaps him. "Take me home, Chuck." He draws back, and in his hand her cell phone glints in the dim light. "And give that back!" He shrugs, starts to wind down the window, and she grips his chin, hopes her fingers leave marks. "Don't even think about it, you shit."
The wind ruffles his hair, and he grins, her phone half out the window. "Come and get it, B," he says.
So she dips her head, takes his ear between her teeth, bites down hard.
He yelps and laughs, doesn't let go of the cell. His breath is warm against her cheek. "Come and get it," he repeats, his voice a whisper.
So she does.
**
She's on her knees, his hand in her hair, when she realizes she's made a tactical error. She kisses his thigh, kisses his belly, and pushes back, sits opposite him, her legs sprawled, her foot nudging his. He blinks, confused, and she grins.
"You don't want your phone?" he asks, flipping through her contacts.
"Nah," she shrugs. "I don't really like the colour. You can keep it as a memento."
He stares at her, and she holds her breath, taps patterns on his foot. His hair is messed, the gel on her hands. She wipes them clean on his tie, discarded on the seat beside her, and whistles. "I don't need your phone," he snaps.
"You could sure use the friends," she replies, and for a moment she meets his eyes, thinks maybe his in-drawn breath means she's hit home, hit too hard, and for half a second she's worried.
"Why do I need friends when I have you?" he asks, and the moment is over.
"You don't have me," she says, and she isn't sure if it's a statement or a promise, but he bridges the distance between them, pushes his leg between hers and pushes her back into the seat.
"I don't want you," he breathes, and kisses her.
His hand shakes, and she doesn't think about it.
**
Later, he drops her by the kerb, and she has to fight with him for her shoes. "I'm not here for your fetishes!" she whispers, and when he says, "Oh, but I think you are," she punches him in the belly and pulls, nearly falls on her ass on the side of the street.
He laughs. "Can I walk you in?" he asks, and she tilts her head. Taps her feet on the pavement and looks up at her house, empty and echoing.
"Well," she replies, "You did just ruin my shoes."
"Can't dirty your feet?" he asks. He walks forward and slings her over his shoulder, and she hits his back; when he stumbles, she stops. No point messing the rest of her in a fall.
"What are you, some sort of neanderthal?" she settles for instead, her voice quiet. Her purse in his hand, he unlocks the door, trudges up the stairs. At the top he drops her to the floor, and in the process he cops a feel of her thigh.
"A charmer," he says. As she twists the handle of her door, he mouths the skin at the back of her neck; runs his hand down her side and strokes the underside of her breasts.
"You're walking me in?" she says, and they stumble as she opens the door.
"I'm going to do more than that," he says, his hand still on her side, and she pauses. "Let me do this," he whispers, and she grins, grips his belt buckle and closes the door.
"Okay," she says, and he pushes her back against the door. "But don't tell anyone."
Chuck slides to his knees. "Oh, don't worry," he says. "I won't tell a soul."
Down the hall, a light switches on, but Blair doesn't notice.
**
Blair may have thought she made a mistake when she was down on her knees, but she's made a bigger one now she's on her feet.
Nobody keeps a secret.
END
![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
(no subject)
Date: 2008-09-08 01:35 pm (UTC)"I don't want you," he breathes, and kisses her.
asdkjhsadghwihatu.
(no subject)
Date: 2008-09-08 01:57 pm (UTC)<33333333333333333
(no subject)
Date: 2008-09-08 01:54 pm (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2008-09-08 01:58 pm (UTC)IS THAT GOOD OR BAD ALL CAPS?
(no subject)
Date: 2008-09-08 01:59 pm (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2008-09-08 07:57 pm (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2008-09-09 01:42 pm (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2008-09-09 02:08 am (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2008-09-09 10:08 am (UTC)I don't know anything about the gossip girl comms! But if you tell me where it would be appropriate, then PROBABLY YES?!
PS GLAD YOU LIKED IT
(no subject)
Date: 2008-09-09 10:27 am (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2008-09-09 01:46 pm (UTC)Blair/Chuck hits me in the Chloe/Lex place, I will not lie.
(no subject)
Date: 2008-09-11 05:48 am (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2008-09-14 08:49 am (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2008-09-12 11:48 am (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2008-09-14 08:50 am (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2009-01-14 11:11 am (UTC)This is so awesome. And also:
"Guard my drink," she says, like maybe he's trustworthy, and runs.
Because I don't know yet what that says about their relationship, and that's kind of awesome, too.
(no subject)
Date: 2009-01-15 12:51 am (UTC)i love blair and chuck, they are kind of bitter and dirty and there are possibilities there.
(no subject)
Date: 2009-01-14 08:44 pm (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2009-01-15 12:51 am (UTC)