(Untitled)

[im_chuckbass]

Jesus, these dorm room beds were small.

That was the first thing Chuck thought as he began to groggily surface from sleep. Dorm room beds were small, there was someone else in his, and most worryingly, it did not feel like a girl. With more than a little apprehension, he cracked one eye open just enough to see that the head next to his on the

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[throw_it_off]

Nate was comfortable. He was comfortable and warm and cozily folded into a little space between a wall and a body. It wasn't a bad place to be while unconscious. Except that someone was shoving at him to make him wake up.

Eyes resiliently shut, Nate murmured something unintelligible and slurred as he slung an arm around the body in front of him and snuggled closer.

To... him.

That was not a girl's body in his arms. He realized it in half a second, and spent the next half a second praying that if he just kept his eyes shut, this whole moment would disappear or turn out to be a dream or the guy was just a very guyish girl. That wouldn't work though, and he knew it in a second, sitting bolt upright and pulling his arm away like he'd touched something scalding hot.

"Whoa, whoa," he muttered, confused and leaning back against the wall. Oh, God, his head hurt. "Whoa, shit, what happened?"

[im_chuckbass]

"Step one, if I remember correctly, was tequila. A lot of it." Chuck replied dryly. There was a comfort in being himself again for this, he thought; better to feel entirely familiar with his body and his voice, if not the situation. "Step two was the dress you were wearing. That one, in fact," he said, pointing to a puddle of fabric that had clearly been hastily discarded the night before. "And step three... well, I trust that by now you're filling that one in on your own." He smirked and tipped his head back into the pillow, shutting his eyes. Now that the initial panic had passed, Chuck was feeling... well, not at peace with it, really, but definitely not as bothered as he would've expected to be.

[throw_it_off]

Dress he was...? Oh right. Moving vertical so suddenly had jump started his hangover, and his brain was still too sleep addled to work properly. The cobwebs were clearing though, and fast.

"Oh..." No curse word seemed appropriate, and besides his mind was drawing a complete blank on the verbal score.

He'd had sex. With his best friend. And there was said best friend, sprawled out on his bed, looking like he always looked after a night of fucking. Only Nate was more accustomed to seeing Chuck like this from the couch, a safe distance away.

"Chuck," he hissed, leaning on his elbow so he could talk quietly and firmly without the whole floor hearing them. "Chuck, we had sex. How can you just lay there?"

[im_chuckbass]

"What would you prefer I do, Nathaniel?" he asked, barely opening one eye to see his best friend staring at him like he'd grown a second head. "It isn't like there weren't extenuating circumstances. We can hardly be blamed." The fact that they'd both looked entirely different was a saving grace in this situation; things would have been even more unspeakably awkward, he was sure, if he'd had to look at Nate this morning and remember what it'd felt like to have his hands on him. As it was, last night already seemed like a particularly vivid dream, a physical impossibility that surely could never actually have happened.

Finally, he gave in and opened his eyes, pulling the sheet a little tighter around his abdomen and propping himself up on one elbow, all too concious of exactly how small the bed they were currently sharing was. "These things happen. You should know that as well as anyone." After all, it wasn't as though Nate had a spotless track record - especially when it came to close friends.

[throw_it_off]

It was a good question, disturbingly practical given that their situation was disturbingly disturbing. But Nate just couldn't manage being as cool as Chuck. It was inhuman.

"I'd prefer you to be a little... freaked out, you know?" They were laying in a bed, naked and facing each other, and Chuck was acting as if this wasn't weird at all, which made it even more weird. What had Chuck gotten up to that Nate didn't know about?

"These things happen but... you're my best friend," he pointed out, still feeling the need to keep his voice low. "My best guy friend."

[im_chuckbass]

"I wasn't your best guy friend last night," Chuck retorted. "This may be a little awkward, all things considered," he said, gesturing between them, "but as far as I'm concerned last night was a once in a lifetime opportunity. I'm not sorry I took advantage of it."

He smirked and shifted a little; soon he'd get up and find something to put on, but there was a part of him that got some kind of perverse pleasure out of making Nathaniel uncomfortable like this. For all his talk of taboos, there were some lines that still remained uncrossed; it didn't mean it wasn't fun to put a toe across every now and then. "If it would make you feel better, I can spend a few minute justifying how heterosexual it actually was, but that strikes me as a little too after-school-special, don't you think?"

[throw_it_off]

This was what was so frustrating about Chuck's attitude: it was impossible to argue with sometimes. They hadn't been guys last night, but both definitely women and definitely hot. And Nate wasn't sorry it happened either. He couldn't get himself to say it, but he wasn't. Best friend or not, Chuck knew more than a typical seventeen year old about pleasing a girl in bed. And Nate wasn't too shabby either.

He groaned and let the elbow slip out from its support position, his upper body falling back onto the bed. "I hate when you make sense," he muttered.

[im_chuckbass]

The other reason that Chuck was so sanguine about this entire situation, the one that he couldn't quite bring himself to give voice to, was that he'd pretty much always realized that it was within the realm of possibility. Expected it, really, and not even in the relatively harmless way that it had actually come to pass. Not that he'd ever spent a particularly significant amount of time dwelling on it, but hey; you put two guys with healthy libidos and curiosities in close quarters for an extended amount of time, and some things were just inevitable

[throw_it_off]

It's all just sex. Nate kept repeating that in his head like a mantra, waiting for it to drown out his doubts or lull his headache. There was sex, just plain old sex that didn't matter at all, and then there was sex. Even completely drunk on bar at the Shepherd's wedding, sex with Serena hadn't just been sex. Sex with Blair, for both of them, hadn't just been sex. It didn't work like that with the female half of their quartet, so why would it be that simple with them?

The more he thought about it, the more he repeated Chuck's words, the more they sounded like a lie, and one he wasn't comfortable telling.

"Hey, man," he said, nudging Chuck's shoulder. "Get out of bed so I can get dressed." And get out of here. "...I'll have to borrow some clothes."

[im_chuckbass]

"Yeah, sorry," Chuck said, and finally stirred himself enough to get up. He felt heavy, somehow; part of it was undoubtedly the hungover grogginess, but it also seemed like it must somehow be the unfamiliarity of once again male limbs. Still, it was definitely good to be back, there was no denying that.

He almost got up, and then realized he had a new dilemma: take the sheet, or leave it? Sex itself might be simple, but jesus, this shit got complicated fast. "Give me a second," he said; not that he thought Nate was actually looking, but a little warning never hurt. After a second he got up and rooted through his clothes quickly, throwing on a pair of boxers and an undershirt before putting his robe on over it. "Take whatever you want," he said, half out the door already. "I'll be right back." Actually getting out of bed had made the whole thing seem ten times more awkward; ironic, he thought as he ducked into the bathroom.

[throw_it_off]

Compared to every other time Nate had ever seen Chuck get out of bed, or not as the case may be, that was almost quick. He did not look when Chuck got out of bed, tilting his head back so he could stare thoughtfully at the ceiling.

Once Chuck was out of the way, Nate climbed out of bed and get dressed as quickly as possible. He didn't care about what he was wearing, since he could just jog downstairs and get something else, but he wanted to get dressed and get out of there in hopes of avoiding more irritatingly sensible conversation.

[im_chuckbass]

Chuck almost hoped that Nate would be gone by the time he got back to his room; it would be easier, certainly, to be able to just crawl into bed and go back to sleep, forget about the whole thing. On the other hand, ignoring these kinds of things rarely made them better, and given the current state of Chuck's social life he could not afford to alienate his best friend. No matter how hot he'd been as a girl.

Nate was still there when he got back to the room; probably for the best, he decided, and tied his robe a little tighter. "Do you want to hit up the clinic for aspirin, or make the coffee?" he asked, knowing that the basic necessities had to be seen to first. After that, they could talk about whatever needed to be talked about. Or not talk about it. Whatever.

[throw_it_off]

Nate froze at the sound of Chuck's voice, caught with a polo shirt he would never, ever under any normal circumstances wear half on his body. At least he had pants on now.

"Uh.." The question didn't take that much thought, and he cursed himself silently for hesitating. "I got the coffee."

Why were they making a morning of this? Girls rolled out of Chuck's bed in the morning and were shown the door. Shouldn't Nate have been the same, if it was just a one night stand?

Why was he thinking about this so much?

With a blink, he pulled the shirt on fully and headed for the door.