Fic: Communication (Gossip Girl RPS: Chace/Ed)
Title: Communication
Fandom: Gossip Girl RPS
Pairing: Chace Crawford/Ed Westwick
Rating: NC-17
Notes: For the Finish-It-All-Off Ficathon. The first paragraph was provided by the lovely fest mods sinandmisery and shiplessheathen, the rest is my own. The interview snippets are made up, but the smoothness of their denial skills is based on real ones *g*
Chace has a hard time thinking of Ed as just someone who keeps him warm at night. He's a lot more than that, he's funny and handsome, and a lot sweeter than he'd let anyone know, and Chace really kind of loves him.
Of course, he can't say that.
He doesn't have a good reason not to-Ed surely knows how he feels, and Chace has seen the other men and women Ed has turned down to go home with Chace since they started this, whatever it is they have, so he must feel something too. It's just that words are hard to find around Ed. Chace is grateful for a script when they're on set, because sometimes just looking at Ed, even with Chuck's scarf and sneer in place makes all the words fall out of his head into some deep dark place where he might never find them again.
On the other hand, apparently he also can't say that he doesn't love him.
Interviewer: "And these rumours that don't seem to want to go away about you and Ed Westwick?"
Chace: "Look, that's-people get the wrong-I mean, obviously we get along and sometimes-no, I don't have anything to say. It's just stupid."
"So, that was a bit of a fuck up," Ed says, but he's grinning so Chace takes the beer he's offering and makes do with sticking out his tongue and slumping down on the couch. There's some game on, and he hates sports, but neither of them ever watch TV for long so what the fuck.
"Shut up, man." Chace can feel his face heat up, and fucking hell, why can't he be cool about this like Ed? He's as sure as he can be that Ed's physically incapable of blushing, probably because he's pathologically incapable of being embarrassed.
"Don't worry about it." Ed settles next to him and lets his knee fall over Chace's leg. The hand that unzips Chace's pants and pulls his dick out is still cold from his beer bottle, but Chace is hard in seconds all the same. "I'll handle it," Ed breathes in Chace's ear, then his lips are on Chace's neck and his hand is moving faster and Chace is coming hard all over Ed's fingers.
Ed fucks him harder than usual when they stumble to bed with Chace's pants tripping him up and Ed's arm around his waist. Chace is pinned fast, arms above his head, feeling every pillow crease in his cheek. Ed's words are hot and dirty in Chace's ear, stubble grazes his shoulder with every thrust and twist of those hips, and Chace is in need of clean sheets again long before Ed groans and pulls out, strips the condom off and comes all over his back, his legs, his bed.
It's different, and Chace doesn't know if it's because he screwed the interview up or not, but Ed's chest is warm against his back as always when he falls asleep so it probably doesn't matter.
Interviewer: "So, how's Chace?"
Ed: *laughs* "He's fine. Just fine."
Interviewer: "I think many people would agree with that."
Ed: "Yeah, well. Still not my type, whatever the rags like to say. That's where you're going with this, right?"
Interviewer: "Come on, you're telling me there's no truth at all in the gossip?"
Ed: "None at all. He's a great guy, and a good friend, but there's no more to it than that."
Interviewer: "So you're still on the market? A lot of girls will be pleased to hear that."
Ed: "Free and single, baby. Free and single."
Ed's doing some chat show, maybe the same one Chace is lined up for in a couple of weeks, but he's losing track and they haven't told him what the questions will be so fuck it, maybe he won't do it anyway until the press drop the whole gay thing. It's live and when it's over it only takes him minutes to find a transcript online. There are lines he should learn and contracts for him to look at but all he can do is read the same few lines over and over.
"Still not my type."
It's good, right? It's good that Ed's so convincing. Shit, Chace believes him, and he can still feel Ed in him, still smell him on his skin from a couple of hours ago. Chace sniffs hard. Yeah, he's pretty sure that's Ed.
"He's a great guy, and a good friend."
The bed is still rumpled, and Chace feels kind of dumb for checking, but yes, there are two mugs by the unmade bed, two pillows kind of squished together but definitely indented by two heads, and man, it's been a long time since he needed a daily sheet change just by himself.
"But there's no more to it than that."
Chace fingers the stain on the inside of the couch arm that they told everyone was ice cream. Ed's laugh was so dirty that nobody will sit on that end now anyway, but that works out okay for him and Ed.
His hand is still over it when Ed stumbles through the door, trashed on free champagne and his grin lopsided but real when he sees Chace sitting there.
"I think," he says, his tongue down Chace's ear, "it's time we did the other side to match."
"Interior design now? That's so gay." Chace pulls his head away, but he still has Ed over the side of the couch in record time, smooth-skinned hips under his hands, fingers easing his way inside first because Ed's tight, so tight and hot and-
"Christ," Ed says, over and over, in increasingly desperate tones, but Chace hears, "Harder," and "Faster", and "Fuck me," and "Your dick up my ass though, that's not at all gay," and maybe, just maybe, when Ed bucks and gasps and comes underneath him, he hears something else as well.
When Ed crawls out from under Chace the first thing he finds is the laptop, of course. Chace can hear him laughing while he scrubs his teeth clean and throws new sheets on the bed. He almost doesn't change them; if Ed decides not to sleep in here then his sheets will never smell of Ed again, and he can't stand the thought of that.
On the other hand, they are really kind of gross.
"'Free and single, baby.'" Ed is slouched in the doorway, and Chace can see it now: "'Night," and he'll saunter off to his own bed, maybe bring someone home tomorrow, maybe the gossip rags will be talking about them next week instead.
"I saw." Chace can't look at him. If Ed is going to fuck off, he will have to get his attention first. He knows he should say something, lighten the mood, but there's a lead weight in his stomach and his brain is doing that thing with words again, so he doesn't have any to spare, not even when Ed's hands are on his shoulders, turning him around.
Chace can hardly breathe when Ed's fingers frame his face, slide into his hair like Ed slides into his senses, scent on his tongue and a blur of soft eyes and lips moving closer. Ed's kiss is soft and gentle, and everything they don't normally do.
"I'm a fuckin' awesome liar." Ed whispers, and Chace can feel his breath against his lips.
"I'm…" Chace licks his lips, because he thinks he knows what Ed means. "I'm not."
"I know," Ed says, his mouth curving in a smirk, and Chace can't help smiling back because it's Ed, and that's all you can do.
And maybe their communication skills need a bit of work, but when they're curled up again under clean sheets and Ed's got Chace's feet, rubbing them between his own, at least Chace is pretty sure that it's not just because New York is fucking freezing in winter.
Fandom: Gossip Girl RPS
Pairing: Chace Crawford/Ed Westwick
Rating: NC-17
Notes: For the Finish-It-All-Off Ficathon. The first paragraph was provided by the lovely fest mods sinandmisery and shiplessheathen, the rest is my own. The interview snippets are made up, but the smoothness of their denial skills is based on real ones *g*
Chace has a hard time thinking of Ed as just someone who keeps him warm at night. He's a lot more than that, he's funny and handsome, and a lot sweeter than he'd let anyone know, and Chace really kind of loves him.
Of course, he can't say that.
He doesn't have a good reason not to-Ed surely knows how he feels, and Chace has seen the other men and women Ed has turned down to go home with Chace since they started this, whatever it is they have, so he must feel something too. It's just that words are hard to find around Ed. Chace is grateful for a script when they're on set, because sometimes just looking at Ed, even with Chuck's scarf and sneer in place makes all the words fall out of his head into some deep dark place where he might never find them again.
On the other hand, apparently he also can't say that he doesn't love him.
Interviewer: "And these rumours that don't seem to want to go away about you and Ed Westwick?"
Chace: "Look, that's-people get the wrong-I mean, obviously we get along and sometimes-no, I don't have anything to say. It's just stupid."
"So, that was a bit of a fuck up," Ed says, but he's grinning so Chace takes the beer he's offering and makes do with sticking out his tongue and slumping down on the couch. There's some game on, and he hates sports, but neither of them ever watch TV for long so what the fuck.
"Shut up, man." Chace can feel his face heat up, and fucking hell, why can't he be cool about this like Ed? He's as sure as he can be that Ed's physically incapable of blushing, probably because he's pathologically incapable of being embarrassed.
"Don't worry about it." Ed settles next to him and lets his knee fall over Chace's leg. The hand that unzips Chace's pants and pulls his dick out is still cold from his beer bottle, but Chace is hard in seconds all the same. "I'll handle it," Ed breathes in Chace's ear, then his lips are on Chace's neck and his hand is moving faster and Chace is coming hard all over Ed's fingers.
Ed fucks him harder than usual when they stumble to bed with Chace's pants tripping him up and Ed's arm around his waist. Chace is pinned fast, arms above his head, feeling every pillow crease in his cheek. Ed's words are hot and dirty in Chace's ear, stubble grazes his shoulder with every thrust and twist of those hips, and Chace is in need of clean sheets again long before Ed groans and pulls out, strips the condom off and comes all over his back, his legs, his bed.
It's different, and Chace doesn't know if it's because he screwed the interview up or not, but Ed's chest is warm against his back as always when he falls asleep so it probably doesn't matter.
Interviewer: "So, how's Chace?"
Ed: *laughs* "He's fine. Just fine."
Interviewer: "I think many people would agree with that."
Ed: "Yeah, well. Still not my type, whatever the rags like to say. That's where you're going with this, right?"
Interviewer: "Come on, you're telling me there's no truth at all in the gossip?"
Ed: "None at all. He's a great guy, and a good friend, but there's no more to it than that."
Interviewer: "So you're still on the market? A lot of girls will be pleased to hear that."
Ed: "Free and single, baby. Free and single."
Ed's doing some chat show, maybe the same one Chace is lined up for in a couple of weeks, but he's losing track and they haven't told him what the questions will be so fuck it, maybe he won't do it anyway until the press drop the whole gay thing. It's live and when it's over it only takes him minutes to find a transcript online. There are lines he should learn and contracts for him to look at but all he can do is read the same few lines over and over.
"Still not my type."
It's good, right? It's good that Ed's so convincing. Shit, Chace believes him, and he can still feel Ed in him, still smell him on his skin from a couple of hours ago. Chace sniffs hard. Yeah, he's pretty sure that's Ed.
"He's a great guy, and a good friend."
The bed is still rumpled, and Chace feels kind of dumb for checking, but yes, there are two mugs by the unmade bed, two pillows kind of squished together but definitely indented by two heads, and man, it's been a long time since he needed a daily sheet change just by himself.
"But there's no more to it than that."
Chace fingers the stain on the inside of the couch arm that they told everyone was ice cream. Ed's laugh was so dirty that nobody will sit on that end now anyway, but that works out okay for him and Ed.
His hand is still over it when Ed stumbles through the door, trashed on free champagne and his grin lopsided but real when he sees Chace sitting there.
"I think," he says, his tongue down Chace's ear, "it's time we did the other side to match."
"Interior design now? That's so gay." Chace pulls his head away, but he still has Ed over the side of the couch in record time, smooth-skinned hips under his hands, fingers easing his way inside first because Ed's tight, so tight and hot and-
"Christ," Ed says, over and over, in increasingly desperate tones, but Chace hears, "Harder," and "Faster", and "Fuck me," and "Your dick up my ass though, that's not at all gay," and maybe, just maybe, when Ed bucks and gasps and comes underneath him, he hears something else as well.
When Ed crawls out from under Chace the first thing he finds is the laptop, of course. Chace can hear him laughing while he scrubs his teeth clean and throws new sheets on the bed. He almost doesn't change them; if Ed decides not to sleep in here then his sheets will never smell of Ed again, and he can't stand the thought of that.
On the other hand, they are really kind of gross.
"'Free and single, baby.'" Ed is slouched in the doorway, and Chace can see it now: "'Night," and he'll saunter off to his own bed, maybe bring someone home tomorrow, maybe the gossip rags will be talking about them next week instead.
"I saw." Chace can't look at him. If Ed is going to fuck off, he will have to get his attention first. He knows he should say something, lighten the mood, but there's a lead weight in his stomach and his brain is doing that thing with words again, so he doesn't have any to spare, not even when Ed's hands are on his shoulders, turning him around.
Chace can hardly breathe when Ed's fingers frame his face, slide into his hair like Ed slides into his senses, scent on his tongue and a blur of soft eyes and lips moving closer. Ed's kiss is soft and gentle, and everything they don't normally do.
"I'm a fuckin' awesome liar." Ed whispers, and Chace can feel his breath against his lips.
"I'm…" Chace licks his lips, because he thinks he knows what Ed means. "I'm not."
"I know," Ed says, his mouth curving in a smirk, and Chace can't help smiling back because it's Ed, and that's all you can do.
And maybe their communication skills need a bit of work, but when they're curled up again under clean sheets and Ed's got Chace's feet, rubbing them between his own, at least Chace is pretty sure that it's not just because New York is fucking freezing in winter.