062. you lookin' kinda cute in that polka dot bikini, girl [2/2]
Title | you lookin' kinda cute in that polka dot bikini, girl
Chapter | 2/2
Rating | pg-13
Characters | Nate/Serena
Summary | The ways they make up and break up in the summer of 2010.
In the morning, he tickles her feet to wake her and makes them Eggos and lends her a sweater and walks her home.
She hugs him tight at her door and it feels like thank you.
They are friends.
(They pretend again.)
It is movies in town without sharing their popcorn, horseback rides on separate horses, and days spent at the beach during which Nate does not stare too long when Serena strips down to her bikini.
He does not miss Book Club meetings ever again.
Serena's second idea for a summer activity is to take dance lessons.
She signs them up, without his permission, for classes in West Coast Swing. It's high-energy, complicated ballroom dancing, and it's a lot of fun, but it feels like something of a conspiracy when Serena's standing there in snug shirts and flirty skirts and their teacher is yelling at them about finding the passion and he has to touch all of her bare skin.
He fights back with, "Let's go bike-riding."
When they stop to rest, comfortable and still laughing about a joke he can no longer remember, he pulls off his shirt and dumps an entire bottle of water over his head.
Serena suddenly becomes very interested in the ground.
Nate doesn't feel quite as triumphant as he expected to.
Friendship becomes easier.
They go for a walk on the beach in the evening in light sweaters and bare feet. Serena keeps pausing to pick up shells and sea glass.
"She sells seashells by the seashore."
Serena smiles at him and dares, "Say it five times fast."
Nate tries. And fails.
There's still an ache but it doesn't sting quite as much.
Some mornings they read the paper together.
Nate reads about sports and Serena reads the reviews for movies and theatre and music albums. They fight over the comics and skim the news stories. They both ignore the business report.
Those mornings make Nate miss the future, fill him up with a longing for days that haven't even happened yet.
That, he thinks, should be an impossible feeling.
They get tipsy off margaritas in the mid-morning and watch EuroTrip three times in a row.
Nate has Scotty Doesn't Know stuck in his head for the rest of the summer.
The second time they make drinks they get pretty drunk, drunk enough to think that sliding down the banister in Nate's house would be so much fun, not drunk enough to actually go through with the idea.
"How's Dan?" Nate asks awkwardly. His throat feels thick.
Serena blinks at him. "Don't know."
He squints at her, uncertain. "No?"
"No."
They both fall asleep on his bedroom floor, but not before they text Chuck and Blair all the lyrics to Midnight Train.
Chuck replies, fine, if you insist, I will not stop believing.
Blair's response is, you're awfully ambitious when you're wasted.
Over their breakfast of hangover food, Serena grins. "Those two," she sighs fondly, shaking her head a little.
Nate tries to smile back. Blair is back in France, staying with her father and Roman at their vineyard. Chuck is still in Prague, dating some girl. Sometimes he and Serena laugh at how silly they are, making sure to stay so far away from each other.
He wonders if Blair and Chuck ever talk, if they ever laugh at how silly Nate and Serena are, taking time apart but still spending the whole summer together.
He sees the redhead girl he slept with at the beach. She waves.
Serena splashes him. "What're you gawking at?"
Laughing, he splashes her back, "Nothing."
They figure it out, how to pretend again - most of the time, anyway.
Serena makes an effort, but she does it very casually. They hang out one day, inside because it's threatening to rain. Serena comes over to his place in shorts and a brown belt and one of his t-shits knotted under her breasts, and she is just his friend.
She turns on MTV and they spend hours and hours just watching the screen. They talk, at length, about what great legs Katy Perry has. They eat obscene amounts of buttery popcorn.
Nate has Lady Gaga songs playing on loop in his mind, but it's worth it when Serena falls asleep with her head on his lap.
They stay late at Book Club, curled up in their chairs.
"Look," Serena says, pointing outward, toward the sky. "A rainbow. Make a wish."
Nate laughs low in his throat. "You don't wish on rainbows, S."
She puckers her lips. "You should."
He looks at her and he can't breathe. "Serena."
"Yeah?" Her voice is slow and lazy.
"My dad wants me to visit him."
Nothing changes but her eyes, which are suddenly more alert. "Oh."
"Yeah." He blows out his breath.
"Will you go?" she asks gently.
He's quiet for a moment and then he asks, "Will you come with me?"
She doesn't even think about it. "Yes."
"This book is amazing."
Nate looks at the novel she's just thrust into his hands.
"Amazing," she repeats.
He stares at the title - On The Road - and he thinks that Serena needs to read The Wizard of Oz, needs to realize that there's no place like home.
He wraps an arm around her and lifts her off the ground. Through her squeals, he says, "Let's go to the city."
They don't go home, but they do go to his family home in Connecticut for a change of scenery. His grandfather and a lot of his cousins are there. Nate takes his usual room and Serena's given a guest room and they settle in.
His family seems to assume they're still together. Neither of them bother with correcting that assumption.
Nate sneaks a peek of what Serena's planning to wear to dinner on their first night there, and he picks a tie to match.
One afternoon they're playing doubles tennis against Nate's cousin Claire and her fiancé - they're losing, which Nate blames fully on Serena's tennis outfit: a tight, white minidress - and a black sedan pulls up into the driveway.
Maureen steps out of the passenger door and a moment later, Tripp gets out on the driver's side.
Serena's face goes the colour of her dress. She drops her racket and murmurs something about feeling sick and then she walks quickly toward the house.
Nate tries to smile. He tells Claire, "I guess you guys win."
He does not look at Tripp.
"Don't go," he tells Serena. She hasn't come out of her room for a day.
He's relieved to see that she hasn't packed yet, but he hates the way she seems unsteady.
"I can't see him," she whispers.
Nate sighs and sits on her bed next to where she's lying under the covers. "I know."
She looks lost and strangely small. "What do I do, Natie?"
Gently, he pushes her hair our of her face. "Stay here. Stay here and show him how stupid he was to do that to you."
"What about Maureen?" she whispers.
"Serena." He lets his hand linger against her cheek. "You didn't want to be Jackie O. anyway."
Her lips curve into a grateful smile and she lifts her blankets invitingly. "Will you get in here? Just…to lay with me."
Nate does not need to be asked twice.
At dinner, Serena flirts with him, not in an over-the-top way, but pointedly. She leans into him and smiles at him, holds his hand on top of the table, rests her cheek against his shoulder, whispers into his ear and kisses his cheek. Nate plays it up with her because he knows that's what she wants, but he has a tight feeling in his chest the whole time.
This is what he's been reduced to - a tool to be used to make Tripp jealous.
Nate thinks Tripp should be jealous, even without Serena's constant, quiet giggles. She's wearing one of her very best dresses, midnight blue and strapless and the skirt of it moves with every step she takes. Her hair is pieced together in a bun and she's got bracelets dangling off her wrists and her laughter is polite but still bright enough to light up the room. She even lets Nate finish her chicken, sliding her plate toward him and asking sweetly, "You want this, baby?"
It occurs to Nate, halfway through the meal, that Tripp knows what Serena's like beneath this façade. He knows what her body looks like underneath that dress. He probably knows what her laugh sounds like when she's really, truly amused. Maybe he even knows her secrets, like how the charm bracelet on her left wrist was her father's grandmother's, and that Serena's had it since she was three years old.
Nate looks right at his cousin with unapologetic eyes when Serena whispers sweet nothings into his ear, watches the way he averts his eyes and adopts his politician's face.
(He kind of wants to make Tripp jealous, too.)
She drinks too much, but Nate doesn't realize that until it's well past midnight and he finds her in the kitchen searching for shot glasses.
"Hey," he says gently, watching her move around.
Serena does not quit her search or even bother looking at him. "I thought I loved him." She slams a cupboard door shut. "Did I ever tell you that?" Hands braced against the countertop, she stares down at the marble surface like it will give her answers. "How stupid am I, huh?"
"You're not," Nate says quietly, unbuttoning the collar of his button-down shirt.
She lifts her face and looks at him with empty eyes. "You never used to lie to me."
He doesn't bother replying to that, just reaches out to her and says, "C'mon. Let's go outside and get some air."
In the backyard, he directs her toward the old tree with a swing hanging from one of the branches - it was her favourite place in the garden when she was younger.
"Nate." She stops and pouts at him. "I'm dizzy."
He laughs a little, just because she's adorable, and then sweeps her into his arms princess-style. "Is this better?"
She nods, slipping her arms around his neck, and he walks to the swing, sitting down with her on his lap. She leans her head against his shoulder and for a while he just listens to her breathing.
Nate doesn't know what to say. Finally, he offers, "It's not worth it."
"Oh, Nate." Serena lifts her head, and he knows she's still drunk, but there is all the clarity in the world in her forget-me-not eyes. "I really love you."
There is a moment of complete silence and then she whispers, "How stupid am I?"
Nate wakes her up just after the sun rises.
"I know," he says when she bats his hands away. "You're hungover."
"So go away," she replies, her voice hoarse.
"Come on, S," he cajoles. "We're getting out of here." He's going to rescue them both.
Her eyes fly open. "What?"
"We're leaving," Nate declares. He's already dressed and ready to go. "So get up."
"Leaving?"
"Serena." He laughs and pulls her blankets away. "Let's go."
She finally listens to him, and she leaves in only her PJs and the charm bracelet she was wearing the night before, her hand in his. Nate picks a car from the huge garage - it's cherry red and it looks like it will go fast.
Serena gets into the passenger seat and waits until they're turning out of the driveway, onto the road, to ask, "Since when do you know how to drive?"
Nate makes a face. "Kind of…since…never. But it can't be that hard, right?"
Ten minutes later, he crashes them into a tree.
He turns to look at Serena, stunned and horrified, because this, a car crash, is the absolute worst thing he could do this weekend. She doesn't look hurt at all (thank god), but he still can't believe -
But she looks at him and she smiles and laughs and, "What a fucking mess we make," she says.
When they're back in the city, having arrived safely by train, Serena accompanies him on his visit to his father.
Nate hates going, hates the prison and the guards and all the efforts that are necessary to get in and all the awkward conversations he has with the Captain.
She takes everything he hates in stride, the process of signing in, of handing over keys and cell phones. She keeps close to his side but she never seems worried or scared, and the moment they see the Captain she unleashes that sunny smile of hers. When Nate is at a loss for words, she carries the conversation, talking up his experience at Columbia and what a great summer they're having.
The moment his dad walks into the room, Serena's hand falls to Nate's leg, and she leaves it there the whole time.
On the hottest day of the summer, Serena tans on the rooftop while Nate swims laps in the nearby pool.
Her bikini is white and miniscule and he sneaks peeks at her when he comes up for air.
When he gets tired enough, he hoists himself out of the pool and tracks water over to the chair next to hers before grabbing his towel.
"Stop that," she murmurs, smiling just a little bit.
"Stop what?" he asks breathlessly. It is so fucking hot out.
She pushes her sunglasses down her nose and squints up at him. "Staring, Nathaniel."
His head spins and in a moment of total confidence, he braces a hand against her chair on one side of her body, and uses his other hand to trail his knuckles over her collarbone and downward, tracing a path through the valley of her breasts and then toward her bellybutton. Her skin is impossibly warm, deliciously warm, and he's too hot to think - but he'd be okay with getting burned.
"Isn't that what you wanted?" he asks her.
She meets his gaze and bites her lip, but she doesn't say no.
They go out on a Tuesday night, and he watches her on the city sidewalks in the fading sunlight, thinks hazily that she walks like poetry in motion.
They get caught in the rain, their hair and clothes and skin all soaked, and he catches her gaze just as lightning cracks through the sky.
Serena returns his kiss with just as much hunger.
She crashes at his place, in Chuck's bedroom, and when he gets up in the morning he sees her standing in front of the fridge, her lips puckered as she considers the contents.
"Hey, you," he greets her appreciatively, rubbing at his eyes.
She glances at him and smiles. "Put some clothes on, Archibald," she says, taking in the look of him in just his boxers.
"You're one to talk." She's in one of his t-shirts and a pair of knee socks.
Tugging at the hem of the shirt she's wearing, she says, "Nate, I told you, I need…time."
He leans against the counter and gives her a measuring look before he shrugs, completely casual. "So take some time."
Serena looks a little shell-shocked. "What do you mean?"
"Who's stopping you, S? You've had all summer to take some time, but you won't leave me alone. You must have realized that by now."
She tucks her hair behind her ear shyly. "I just…can't. Not…again."
Nate pushes away from the counter and moves toward her, follows the path of her fingers with his own: over her cheek, behind her ear, down her neck. "You don't need time," he tells her softly. "You know that."
Her eyes are wet. "I can't have ruined us, if I did then I really do ruin everything, and I - "
He cuts her off with the softest of kisses. "Come to bed, Serena."
She braces her hands against his shoulders and pushes him away. "Natie," she berates him.
There's a warning in her eyes but he can't take it to heart. "Look at you," he says, almost a growl. He slides his hand down the side of one of her thighs. "Knee socks," he adds in a murmur. They shouldn't be such a turn-on, but she could probably wear a paper bag and he'd still want to rip it off her.
"I should go home," she sighs, one of her legs hooking around one of his.
Nate slips his hands under her the hem of her (his) t-shirt and presses his forehead to hers. "I love you."
Her hand moves to the back of his neck, her fingers tangling in his hair. "That's not fair, Nate." She closes her eyes and her lips brush his.
He smiles into the kiss. She loves him, too.
She doesn't stay, and she won't come to bed with him, won't even agree to go out for breakfast - she leaves, but she only goes home.
(She never really runs away and he's sure that has to mean something important.)
He takes her sailing.
And it feels like every other summer, the wind whipping her hair into her face, and her cheek resting against his shoulder - water on every side of them, stretching on forever, and the sky a perfect mix of blue and white overhead.
Serena stands on deck in bare feet, wearing a bikini and an old pair of Daisy Dukes, a sweating bottle of beer in one hand. She takes a long drink, eyes closed, and then holds the bottle out to him, one of her eyelids falling in a wink.
Nate wraps an arm around her and kisses the shell of her ear. "You know the exact way to my heart," he teases, finishing off the beer.
She giggles but her eyes are solemn. "You think so?"
He nods. "Know so."
There is only one bed in the cabin on the Charlotte, and when Nate goes below deck shortly after midnight, Serena is already cuddled up beneath the blankets. He kicks off his shorts and peels off his shirt and joins her without hesitation.
She curls up to him and smiles against his shoulder. "I would have missed you too much," she whispers against his skin.
Nate wraps her up in his arms - it's hot but he doesn't care - and kisses the tip of her nose. "I always miss you too much."
They're quiet for a while, listening to the silence and the occasional sound of lapping waves.
"It's kind of weird," Serena whispers. "We're all alone out here." She pauses and then adds, "Kind of wonderful, too." She tilts her chin up to look at him.
Nate grins at her in the darkness. "Doesn't feel so lonely to me," he agrees.
For a moment she just watches him, eyes roaming over his face, and then she hikes up the hem of her nightgown and straddles his hips, leans down and kisses him, a kiss infused with everything she hasn't been able to say (everything he's always heard anyway).
He sits up a bit underneath her, his hands frantically pushing her nightgown off of one of her shoulders.
"I love you," he whispers to her in between kisses.
Her head falls to his shoulder and she whispers back against his neck: "Don't stop. Don't stop."
The sailboat rocks lightly on the ocean's waves and Serena's hips rock against his, and he surrenders to the feeling.
He stirs when she does, blinks his eyes open slowly. "Morning, gorgeous."
She smiles and her eyelashes flutter as she bumps her nose against his. "G'morning."
Serena blasts music on deck as they sail back toward New York, spins around on the deck, moves to the beat of the soundtrack from some old movie that they probably watched together once upon a time.
I know, it's up for me, if you steal my sunshine…
"What is this?" he laughs as he ties a knot.
"It's our song," she says decisively.
"Oh, really?" He moves toward her. "How come you get to pick our song?"
"Because I have better music taste."
He rushes his last couple steps toward her, hands extended to tickle her. "Take that back," he threatens.
"Nate! No! Nate! Stop it! Natie!" she giggles, squirming against him as he traps her in his arms. "Nate."
"Yes?" he asks innocently, smiling at her.
Something changes in her eyes, something soft and sweet emerging.
"I love you, too," she says.
They get high, and now that they're older he finds that she is less giggly and silly and more insightful. She thinks about the future and about Brown and missed chances and misjudgments. He loves the sound of her voice; it is a soundtrack he could spend his whole life listening to.
"What am I good at, Natie?" she asks him, lying on her stomach on the floor.
He's lying facing her, and he looks into her eyes very seriously.
"Baby," he says. "Everything."
Back in the Hamptons for the last hurrah of summer, he watches as she brushes Willow in the stables.
"We should talk," he suggests.
"About what?" She plants a hand on her (bare) hip. He looks forward to and also dreads the wintertime, when she will actually wear something other than denim shorts and bikini tops.
"You and me. This wasn't really a break for us."
Her eyebrows rise and she puts the brush down, turns to face him. "Maybe I planned it that way."
Smiling, he says, "You shouldn't have planned it at all."
Serena shrugs. "It wasn't so bad, was it?"
Nate hops down from where he's sitting and rests his hands on her hips before slipping them into the back pockets of her shorts. It wasn't so bad, but that doesn't mean he has any desire to repeat the experience. He kisses her, and when he pulls away her eyes are still closed.
"Will you marry me?"
Blue eyes fly open. "Not funny."
"Kinda funny."
She shakes her head. "Nope."
"Will you…let me buy you ice cream?"
"Yes," she says with a small nod, like she's doing him a favour.
"Will you…be my girlfriend again?"
She bites back a smile. "Yes, you idiot."
"Will you…marry me someday? You know your grandma and Henriette will be so disappointed if - "
"Nate!" She slaps at his shoulder and then tucks himself into his arms. With a soft sigh, she repeats, "Not funny."
He grins against her cheek, tells her softly, "Not really supposed to be."
Serena goes to Brown.
Nate says his goodbye on the sidewalk out in front of her building. (Blair is going with her. Nate knows if he were to step foot on the campus he'd somehow convince himself to stay.)
"Bye," she whispers as they embrace one last time. She presses her mouth to his and lets the kiss linger.
"Bye," he echoes. He forces himself to smile at her.
"Don't look like that," she pleads. "I'm gonna come back."
"I know." Nate nods. "And you'll have an awesome time there. Brown won't know what hit it."
"Serena!" Blair calls, poking her head out of the limo.
"I'm coming, I'm coming." She smiles at him and gives him a little wave as she backs away. "I love you."
"You, too," he tells her quietly, shoving his hands into his pockets.
She blows him a kiss and ducks into the limo; Nate lifts a hand to wave goodbye as it pulls away from the curb and into city traffic.
But only a moment later it stops, moving back toward the curb, and Serena steps out.
"Hey," she says.
Nate prepares himself to give a pep talk - she can do this, he knows she can, she just has to believe it to, but then all of a sudden she's tucked in his arms and breathing against his neck and he forgets all the words he meant to say.
That's okay, though, because she's got word of her own.
She tilts her chin up and kisses him lightly and tells him (promises him): "I'm gonna come back for you."
fin
Chapter | 2/2
Rating | pg-13
Characters | Nate/Serena
Summary | The ways they make up and break up in the summer of 2010.
In the morning, he tickles her feet to wake her and makes them Eggos and lends her a sweater and walks her home.
She hugs him tight at her door and it feels like thank you.
They are friends.
(They pretend again.)
It is movies in town without sharing their popcorn, horseback rides on separate horses, and days spent at the beach during which Nate does not stare too long when Serena strips down to her bikini.
He does not miss Book Club meetings ever again.
Serena's second idea for a summer activity is to take dance lessons.
She signs them up, without his permission, for classes in West Coast Swing. It's high-energy, complicated ballroom dancing, and it's a lot of fun, but it feels like something of a conspiracy when Serena's standing there in snug shirts and flirty skirts and their teacher is yelling at them about finding the passion and he has to touch all of her bare skin.
He fights back with, "Let's go bike-riding."
When they stop to rest, comfortable and still laughing about a joke he can no longer remember, he pulls off his shirt and dumps an entire bottle of water over his head.
Serena suddenly becomes very interested in the ground.
Nate doesn't feel quite as triumphant as he expected to.
Friendship becomes easier.
They go for a walk on the beach in the evening in light sweaters and bare feet. Serena keeps pausing to pick up shells and sea glass.
"She sells seashells by the seashore."
Serena smiles at him and dares, "Say it five times fast."
Nate tries. And fails.
There's still an ache but it doesn't sting quite as much.
Some mornings they read the paper together.
Nate reads about sports and Serena reads the reviews for movies and theatre and music albums. They fight over the comics and skim the news stories. They both ignore the business report.
Those mornings make Nate miss the future, fill him up with a longing for days that haven't even happened yet.
That, he thinks, should be an impossible feeling.
They get tipsy off margaritas in the mid-morning and watch EuroTrip three times in a row.
Nate has Scotty Doesn't Know stuck in his head for the rest of the summer.
The second time they make drinks they get pretty drunk, drunk enough to think that sliding down the banister in Nate's house would be so much fun, not drunk enough to actually go through with the idea.
"How's Dan?" Nate asks awkwardly. His throat feels thick.
Serena blinks at him. "Don't know."
He squints at her, uncertain. "No?"
"No."
They both fall asleep on his bedroom floor, but not before they text Chuck and Blair all the lyrics to Midnight Train.
Chuck replies, fine, if you insist, I will not stop believing.
Blair's response is, you're awfully ambitious when you're wasted.
Over their breakfast of hangover food, Serena grins. "Those two," she sighs fondly, shaking her head a little.
Nate tries to smile back. Blair is back in France, staying with her father and Roman at their vineyard. Chuck is still in Prague, dating some girl. Sometimes he and Serena laugh at how silly they are, making sure to stay so far away from each other.
He wonders if Blair and Chuck ever talk, if they ever laugh at how silly Nate and Serena are, taking time apart but still spending the whole summer together.
He sees the redhead girl he slept with at the beach. She waves.
Serena splashes him. "What're you gawking at?"
Laughing, he splashes her back, "Nothing."
They figure it out, how to pretend again - most of the time, anyway.
Serena makes an effort, but she does it very casually. They hang out one day, inside because it's threatening to rain. Serena comes over to his place in shorts and a brown belt and one of his t-shits knotted under her breasts, and she is just his friend.
She turns on MTV and they spend hours and hours just watching the screen. They talk, at length, about what great legs Katy Perry has. They eat obscene amounts of buttery popcorn.
Nate has Lady Gaga songs playing on loop in his mind, but it's worth it when Serena falls asleep with her head on his lap.
They stay late at Book Club, curled up in their chairs.
"Look," Serena says, pointing outward, toward the sky. "A rainbow. Make a wish."
Nate laughs low in his throat. "You don't wish on rainbows, S."
She puckers her lips. "You should."
He looks at her and he can't breathe. "Serena."
"Yeah?" Her voice is slow and lazy.
"My dad wants me to visit him."
Nothing changes but her eyes, which are suddenly more alert. "Oh."
"Yeah." He blows out his breath.
"Will you go?" she asks gently.
He's quiet for a moment and then he asks, "Will you come with me?"
She doesn't even think about it. "Yes."
"This book is amazing."
Nate looks at the novel she's just thrust into his hands.
"Amazing," she repeats.
He stares at the title - On The Road - and he thinks that Serena needs to read The Wizard of Oz, needs to realize that there's no place like home.
He wraps an arm around her and lifts her off the ground. Through her squeals, he says, "Let's go to the city."
They don't go home, but they do go to his family home in Connecticut for a change of scenery. His grandfather and a lot of his cousins are there. Nate takes his usual room and Serena's given a guest room and they settle in.
His family seems to assume they're still together. Neither of them bother with correcting that assumption.
Nate sneaks a peek of what Serena's planning to wear to dinner on their first night there, and he picks a tie to match.
One afternoon they're playing doubles tennis against Nate's cousin Claire and her fiancé - they're losing, which Nate blames fully on Serena's tennis outfit: a tight, white minidress - and a black sedan pulls up into the driveway.
Maureen steps out of the passenger door and a moment later, Tripp gets out on the driver's side.
Serena's face goes the colour of her dress. She drops her racket and murmurs something about feeling sick and then she walks quickly toward the house.
Nate tries to smile. He tells Claire, "I guess you guys win."
He does not look at Tripp.
"Don't go," he tells Serena. She hasn't come out of her room for a day.
He's relieved to see that she hasn't packed yet, but he hates the way she seems unsteady.
"I can't see him," she whispers.
Nate sighs and sits on her bed next to where she's lying under the covers. "I know."
She looks lost and strangely small. "What do I do, Natie?"
Gently, he pushes her hair our of her face. "Stay here. Stay here and show him how stupid he was to do that to you."
"What about Maureen?" she whispers.
"Serena." He lets his hand linger against her cheek. "You didn't want to be Jackie O. anyway."
Her lips curve into a grateful smile and she lifts her blankets invitingly. "Will you get in here? Just…to lay with me."
Nate does not need to be asked twice.
At dinner, Serena flirts with him, not in an over-the-top way, but pointedly. She leans into him and smiles at him, holds his hand on top of the table, rests her cheek against his shoulder, whispers into his ear and kisses his cheek. Nate plays it up with her because he knows that's what she wants, but he has a tight feeling in his chest the whole time.
This is what he's been reduced to - a tool to be used to make Tripp jealous.
Nate thinks Tripp should be jealous, even without Serena's constant, quiet giggles. She's wearing one of her very best dresses, midnight blue and strapless and the skirt of it moves with every step she takes. Her hair is pieced together in a bun and she's got bracelets dangling off her wrists and her laughter is polite but still bright enough to light up the room. She even lets Nate finish her chicken, sliding her plate toward him and asking sweetly, "You want this, baby?"
It occurs to Nate, halfway through the meal, that Tripp knows what Serena's like beneath this façade. He knows what her body looks like underneath that dress. He probably knows what her laugh sounds like when she's really, truly amused. Maybe he even knows her secrets, like how the charm bracelet on her left wrist was her father's grandmother's, and that Serena's had it since she was three years old.
Nate looks right at his cousin with unapologetic eyes when Serena whispers sweet nothings into his ear, watches the way he averts his eyes and adopts his politician's face.
(He kind of wants to make Tripp jealous, too.)
She drinks too much, but Nate doesn't realize that until it's well past midnight and he finds her in the kitchen searching for shot glasses.
"Hey," he says gently, watching her move around.
Serena does not quit her search or even bother looking at him. "I thought I loved him." She slams a cupboard door shut. "Did I ever tell you that?" Hands braced against the countertop, she stares down at the marble surface like it will give her answers. "How stupid am I, huh?"
"You're not," Nate says quietly, unbuttoning the collar of his button-down shirt.
She lifts her face and looks at him with empty eyes. "You never used to lie to me."
He doesn't bother replying to that, just reaches out to her and says, "C'mon. Let's go outside and get some air."
In the backyard, he directs her toward the old tree with a swing hanging from one of the branches - it was her favourite place in the garden when she was younger.
"Nate." She stops and pouts at him. "I'm dizzy."
He laughs a little, just because she's adorable, and then sweeps her into his arms princess-style. "Is this better?"
She nods, slipping her arms around his neck, and he walks to the swing, sitting down with her on his lap. She leans her head against his shoulder and for a while he just listens to her breathing.
Nate doesn't know what to say. Finally, he offers, "It's not worth it."
"Oh, Nate." Serena lifts her head, and he knows she's still drunk, but there is all the clarity in the world in her forget-me-not eyes. "I really love you."
There is a moment of complete silence and then she whispers, "How stupid am I?"
Nate wakes her up just after the sun rises.
"I know," he says when she bats his hands away. "You're hungover."
"So go away," she replies, her voice hoarse.
"Come on, S," he cajoles. "We're getting out of here." He's going to rescue them both.
Her eyes fly open. "What?"
"We're leaving," Nate declares. He's already dressed and ready to go. "So get up."
"Leaving?"
"Serena." He laughs and pulls her blankets away. "Let's go."
She finally listens to him, and she leaves in only her PJs and the charm bracelet she was wearing the night before, her hand in his. Nate picks a car from the huge garage - it's cherry red and it looks like it will go fast.
Serena gets into the passenger seat and waits until they're turning out of the driveway, onto the road, to ask, "Since when do you know how to drive?"
Nate makes a face. "Kind of…since…never. But it can't be that hard, right?"
Ten minutes later, he crashes them into a tree.
He turns to look at Serena, stunned and horrified, because this, a car crash, is the absolute worst thing he could do this weekend. She doesn't look hurt at all (thank god), but he still can't believe -
But she looks at him and she smiles and laughs and, "What a fucking mess we make," she says.
When they're back in the city, having arrived safely by train, Serena accompanies him on his visit to his father.
Nate hates going, hates the prison and the guards and all the efforts that are necessary to get in and all the awkward conversations he has with the Captain.
She takes everything he hates in stride, the process of signing in, of handing over keys and cell phones. She keeps close to his side but she never seems worried or scared, and the moment they see the Captain she unleashes that sunny smile of hers. When Nate is at a loss for words, she carries the conversation, talking up his experience at Columbia and what a great summer they're having.
The moment his dad walks into the room, Serena's hand falls to Nate's leg, and she leaves it there the whole time.
On the hottest day of the summer, Serena tans on the rooftop while Nate swims laps in the nearby pool.
Her bikini is white and miniscule and he sneaks peeks at her when he comes up for air.
When he gets tired enough, he hoists himself out of the pool and tracks water over to the chair next to hers before grabbing his towel.
"Stop that," she murmurs, smiling just a little bit.
"Stop what?" he asks breathlessly. It is so fucking hot out.
She pushes her sunglasses down her nose and squints up at him. "Staring, Nathaniel."
His head spins and in a moment of total confidence, he braces a hand against her chair on one side of her body, and uses his other hand to trail his knuckles over her collarbone and downward, tracing a path through the valley of her breasts and then toward her bellybutton. Her skin is impossibly warm, deliciously warm, and he's too hot to think - but he'd be okay with getting burned.
"Isn't that what you wanted?" he asks her.
She meets his gaze and bites her lip, but she doesn't say no.
They go out on a Tuesday night, and he watches her on the city sidewalks in the fading sunlight, thinks hazily that she walks like poetry in motion.
They get caught in the rain, their hair and clothes and skin all soaked, and he catches her gaze just as lightning cracks through the sky.
Serena returns his kiss with just as much hunger.
She crashes at his place, in Chuck's bedroom, and when he gets up in the morning he sees her standing in front of the fridge, her lips puckered as she considers the contents.
"Hey, you," he greets her appreciatively, rubbing at his eyes.
She glances at him and smiles. "Put some clothes on, Archibald," she says, taking in the look of him in just his boxers.
"You're one to talk." She's in one of his t-shirts and a pair of knee socks.
Tugging at the hem of the shirt she's wearing, she says, "Nate, I told you, I need…time."
He leans against the counter and gives her a measuring look before he shrugs, completely casual. "So take some time."
Serena looks a little shell-shocked. "What do you mean?"
"Who's stopping you, S? You've had all summer to take some time, but you won't leave me alone. You must have realized that by now."
She tucks her hair behind her ear shyly. "I just…can't. Not…again."
Nate pushes away from the counter and moves toward her, follows the path of her fingers with his own: over her cheek, behind her ear, down her neck. "You don't need time," he tells her softly. "You know that."
Her eyes are wet. "I can't have ruined us, if I did then I really do ruin everything, and I - "
He cuts her off with the softest of kisses. "Come to bed, Serena."
She braces her hands against his shoulders and pushes him away. "Natie," she berates him.
There's a warning in her eyes but he can't take it to heart. "Look at you," he says, almost a growl. He slides his hand down the side of one of her thighs. "Knee socks," he adds in a murmur. They shouldn't be such a turn-on, but she could probably wear a paper bag and he'd still want to rip it off her.
"I should go home," she sighs, one of her legs hooking around one of his.
Nate slips his hands under her the hem of her (his) t-shirt and presses his forehead to hers. "I love you."
Her hand moves to the back of his neck, her fingers tangling in his hair. "That's not fair, Nate." She closes her eyes and her lips brush his.
He smiles into the kiss. She loves him, too.
She doesn't stay, and she won't come to bed with him, won't even agree to go out for breakfast - she leaves, but she only goes home.
(She never really runs away and he's sure that has to mean something important.)
He takes her sailing.
And it feels like every other summer, the wind whipping her hair into her face, and her cheek resting against his shoulder - water on every side of them, stretching on forever, and the sky a perfect mix of blue and white overhead.
Serena stands on deck in bare feet, wearing a bikini and an old pair of Daisy Dukes, a sweating bottle of beer in one hand. She takes a long drink, eyes closed, and then holds the bottle out to him, one of her eyelids falling in a wink.
Nate wraps an arm around her and kisses the shell of her ear. "You know the exact way to my heart," he teases, finishing off the beer.
She giggles but her eyes are solemn. "You think so?"
He nods. "Know so."
There is only one bed in the cabin on the Charlotte, and when Nate goes below deck shortly after midnight, Serena is already cuddled up beneath the blankets. He kicks off his shorts and peels off his shirt and joins her without hesitation.
She curls up to him and smiles against his shoulder. "I would have missed you too much," she whispers against his skin.
Nate wraps her up in his arms - it's hot but he doesn't care - and kisses the tip of her nose. "I always miss you too much."
They're quiet for a while, listening to the silence and the occasional sound of lapping waves.
"It's kind of weird," Serena whispers. "We're all alone out here." She pauses and then adds, "Kind of wonderful, too." She tilts her chin up to look at him.
Nate grins at her in the darkness. "Doesn't feel so lonely to me," he agrees.
For a moment she just watches him, eyes roaming over his face, and then she hikes up the hem of her nightgown and straddles his hips, leans down and kisses him, a kiss infused with everything she hasn't been able to say (everything he's always heard anyway).
He sits up a bit underneath her, his hands frantically pushing her nightgown off of one of her shoulders.
"I love you," he whispers to her in between kisses.
Her head falls to his shoulder and she whispers back against his neck: "Don't stop. Don't stop."
The sailboat rocks lightly on the ocean's waves and Serena's hips rock against his, and he surrenders to the feeling.
He stirs when she does, blinks his eyes open slowly. "Morning, gorgeous."
She smiles and her eyelashes flutter as she bumps her nose against his. "G'morning."
Serena blasts music on deck as they sail back toward New York, spins around on the deck, moves to the beat of the soundtrack from some old movie that they probably watched together once upon a time.
I know, it's up for me, if you steal my sunshine…
"What is this?" he laughs as he ties a knot.
"It's our song," she says decisively.
"Oh, really?" He moves toward her. "How come you get to pick our song?"
"Because I have better music taste."
He rushes his last couple steps toward her, hands extended to tickle her. "Take that back," he threatens.
"Nate! No! Nate! Stop it! Natie!" she giggles, squirming against him as he traps her in his arms. "Nate."
"Yes?" he asks innocently, smiling at her.
Something changes in her eyes, something soft and sweet emerging.
"I love you, too," she says.
They get high, and now that they're older he finds that she is less giggly and silly and more insightful. She thinks about the future and about Brown and missed chances and misjudgments. He loves the sound of her voice; it is a soundtrack he could spend his whole life listening to.
"What am I good at, Natie?" she asks him, lying on her stomach on the floor.
He's lying facing her, and he looks into her eyes very seriously.
"Baby," he says. "Everything."
Back in the Hamptons for the last hurrah of summer, he watches as she brushes Willow in the stables.
"We should talk," he suggests.
"About what?" She plants a hand on her (bare) hip. He looks forward to and also dreads the wintertime, when she will actually wear something other than denim shorts and bikini tops.
"You and me. This wasn't really a break for us."
Her eyebrows rise and she puts the brush down, turns to face him. "Maybe I planned it that way."
Smiling, he says, "You shouldn't have planned it at all."
Serena shrugs. "It wasn't so bad, was it?"
Nate hops down from where he's sitting and rests his hands on her hips before slipping them into the back pockets of her shorts. It wasn't so bad, but that doesn't mean he has any desire to repeat the experience. He kisses her, and when he pulls away her eyes are still closed.
"Will you marry me?"
Blue eyes fly open. "Not funny."
"Kinda funny."
She shakes her head. "Nope."
"Will you…let me buy you ice cream?"
"Yes," she says with a small nod, like she's doing him a favour.
"Will you…be my girlfriend again?"
She bites back a smile. "Yes, you idiot."
"Will you…marry me someday? You know your grandma and Henriette will be so disappointed if - "
"Nate!" She slaps at his shoulder and then tucks himself into his arms. With a soft sigh, she repeats, "Not funny."
He grins against her cheek, tells her softly, "Not really supposed to be."
Serena goes to Brown.
Nate says his goodbye on the sidewalk out in front of her building. (Blair is going with her. Nate knows if he were to step foot on the campus he'd somehow convince himself to stay.)
"Bye," she whispers as they embrace one last time. She presses her mouth to his and lets the kiss linger.
"Bye," he echoes. He forces himself to smile at her.
"Don't look like that," she pleads. "I'm gonna come back."
"I know." Nate nods. "And you'll have an awesome time there. Brown won't know what hit it."
"Serena!" Blair calls, poking her head out of the limo.
"I'm coming, I'm coming." She smiles at him and gives him a little wave as she backs away. "I love you."
"You, too," he tells her quietly, shoving his hands into his pockets.
She blows him a kiss and ducks into the limo; Nate lifts a hand to wave goodbye as it pulls away from the curb and into city traffic.
But only a moment later it stops, moving back toward the curb, and Serena steps out.
"Hey," she says.
Nate prepares himself to give a pep talk - she can do this, he knows she can, she just has to believe it to, but then all of a sudden she's tucked in his arms and breathing against his neck and he forgets all the words he meant to say.
That's okay, though, because she's got word of her own.
She tilts her chin up and kisses him lightly and tells him (promises him): "I'm gonna come back for you."
fin