Bleighton? Yum! - Behind the Seen (Part1/2)
Title: Behind the Seen
Author: stratocaster24
Fandom: Gossip Girl - The amazing actresses who give life to Waldsen!!
Pairing: Blake/Leighton…
Rating: R
Summary: In which there is sexual tension…
Author's Notes: My take on those rivalry rumors between them… I’m giving birth to my first BLEIGHTON BABY!! Baby Showers!! So the only things I own are the plot, Adrian, and Slazenger’s.
BEHIND THE SEEN
-stratocaster24-
“Oh such grace, oh such beauty… So precious, suspicious, and charming and vicious. Oh, darling, you’re a million ways to be cruel.”
- OK Go, A Million Ways
Like any other hard-working actress out there, Leighton Meester was committing the week’s script to memory on one of the set’s many couches, particularly the one in front of the coffee table.
Going over the scene for the nth time, she spaces out, her eyes landing on a steaming coffee cup at the table. She watches the wispy lines of vapor rise and disappear, a continuous cycle that had her hypnotized.
But alas, something snaps her out of her trance and the disturbance comes in the form of someone’s hand unceremoniously grabbing a cream puff from the tray.
Leighton places the script primly on her lap and pushes her glasses back to the bridge of her nose.
Blake Lively, dressed in girl boxers and a tank top, comes into focus.
She takes a bite of the cream puff and chews thoughtfully in front of Leighton for a while.
Her toenails painted purple, matching her flip flops.
Her long, tan legs that went on forever.
Her toned torso and athletic arms.
Blake’s, never Leighton’s.
Her tongue, flicking out to lick her dumb, goofy smile clean.
Ironic, Leighton realizes.
Since it was making her think dirty thoughts.
The petite brunette takes it all in silence, secretly enjoying Blake’s little private show.
“Good luck making out with Ed later.” Blake says absently as she starts to walk away.
Leighton accidentally crushes the breath mint in her mouth to nonexistence.
“So I guess the whole ‘bed scene’ with Penn went well?” she calls loudly after Blake, which in turn, makes the blonde stop in her tracks.
“Yeah, in fact, it did.” She answers, not bothering to turn around.
Leighton is interested. She wants to see the expression on Blake’s face that will betray the blonde.
“Lively.” It comes out as some sort of order and Blake feels compelled to turn around.
Leighton’s eyes sweep over Blake’s lousy façade and she concludes:
Blake’s bed scene did go well.
That makes the brunette’s heart clench in… something she hasn’t quite put a finger on.
“What?” the blonde asks impatiently.
Leighton’s lip curls at a corner, an indication of some upcoming bitchery.
“Oh, it’s nothing. It’s just... your arms seem flabbier than when I last saw them.”
The delivery was quick and casual, but mainly, it was harsh.
Blake’s jaw drops instinctively and she blinks back at Leighton in disbelief.
That is because Leighton was downright lying.
And Leighton Meester is not an actress for nothing.
Which makes Blake eventually consider Leighton’s words as true.
Normally, getting Blake Lively to question herself was unthinkable.
But this is Leighton we’re talking about.
And Leighton knows how to pull her strings, how to wind her clocks.
“Excuse me?” Blake sputters, the half-eaten cream puff shaking in her hand.
Dark-haired girl’s eyes spot the pastry and she decides to add it to her utility belt of bitchiness.
“I think you’ve been a little too…” she trails off looking for an appropriate word.
“Eager…” the adjective is delivered loud and slow, with a little pause, just before saying “with the cream puffs lately.”
Blake squints her eyes in a wary way and she crosses her arms defensively.
So Leighton continues her offense, “Usually, they go straight to the hips. But I guess in your case, it’s the arms” not forgetting to smile that sneaky smile of hers.
En garde, Lively.
Leighton challenges, taking a smug sip of the coffee that she wasn’t sure how she managed to grab hold of during the course of their ‘conversation’.
Blake watches an eyebrow raise a few centimeters above where the mug’s rim meets the bridge of Leighton’s nose. The hot coffee fogs up Leighton’s glasses.
But the direction of the brunette’s stare stays the same.
It’s still stuck on the blonde.
When her lenses clear up, Blake catches a sliver of something unreadable in Leighton’s eyes.
Brown holds onto blue like a prize, waiting for some sort of retaliation.
And it comes in the form of Blake stuffing the rest of the cream puff quite greedily into her mouth, never breaking eye-contact.
What’s funny is, Leighton’s the first to look away because her gaze shifts to Blake’s fingers as the taller girl hungrily licks them clean.
She didn’t see that coming.
She notices that Blake’s fingernails were purple too.
Figures.
Despite being the cocky ass to start it, it was clear that Leighton lost that one.
= = = =
“Lively.”
Blake winces inwardly at the cool and superior tone.
“Drop by Slazenger’s tomorrow, after the shoot.”
Again, Blake knows this is not a request.
“Adrian saw you yesterday. He agrees with me. He wants to help...”
Leighton looks at her like she was a stray puppy in a pound.
The blonde is sick of the fake sympathy.
“…get rid of some of that.” Her finger points and rotates all over Blake’s supposed deposits from a good distance.
The distance is good because Blake is unable to reach over and pull on those brown locks til’ Leighton’s shrieks and screams fill the every square inch of Silvercup Studios.
= = = =
Slazenger’s.
8:00 PM.
Nothing but Blake Lively and her usual workout get-up that consisted of trainers, cycling shorts, and a sports bra.
Her golden hair’s tied in a messy ponytail and sweat builds over her brow.
Adrian hasn’t even arrived yet.
It’s been a while since she’s done push-ups. It’s been two weeks at least.
Blake doesn’t like the idea of her losing her touch, her tone. Of which she prided herself.
That’s why she pushes herself to do forty more.
= = = =
Thirty left, that’s when Leighton walks in.
Blake looks up for a second and is reluctantly amazed that Leighton’s dark hair is tied in an unnaturally perfect manner.
Chastising herself for even acknowledging the idea of Leighton being remotely perfect, she wills her eyes to stare at the matted floor.
Twenty-nine.
“Talk to me while I change?”
Blake can’t help but notice how different Leighton sounds tonight.
She sounds… nice. At best.
Twenty-eight.
“That’s my line.” Blake points out between twenty-seven and twenty-six, too engrossed with the task at hand to look at Leighton.
“Oh please.” The brunette drawls back, slipping out of her jeans.
“Line stealer.”
Blake nails the accusation.
Twenty-five.
“Line-rememberer.” Leighton replies lamely, lazily taking off her shirt.
Blake stops before going down for twenty-four.
“Is that even wrong?” she questions in exasperation.
Then she bends her elbows and she feels that all familiar pressured strain again.
“It is. If that line was so five weeks ago.”
Blake’s elbows straighten abruptly.
Twenty-four.
“God, I can’t believe you just said that!” Blake exclaims, uncertain if it really was Leighton she was talking too.
“Why don’t I teach you a yogalates stance?” Leighton brings up, changing the subject.
Twenty-three.
If Leighton wants to drops it, Blake had no choice. The world was unfair today.
She picks up her pace.
“You…”
Twenty-two.
“… know…”
Twenty-one.
“…yogalates?”
Twenty.
“Of course I do. What do you think I do with Adrian?” Leighton answers, whipping off her scrunchie.
“Oh, I don’t know. Yoga?”
Nineteen.
Blake grunts, “Or Pilates?”
Eighteen.
Leighton lets out an impatient sigh.
Blake imagines the matching sneer that was probably on Leighton’s face.
“Yogalates exists, Lively. Stop being so primitive.” She snaps back at Blake, fussing with her hair.
Seventeen.
Pause. “Whatever.” The blonde grumbles.
Sixteen.
“Hold that position.” Leighton instructs after she sees Blake push up.
Blake complies, easily staying in perfect form, stuck with fifteen more push-ups to do.
“Good.” She praises, as if Blake was a five-year-old.
The last thing she wants is to be patronized by her co-star.
“Close your eyes.” Leighton tells her softly.
“What? Why?”
“Does everything have to be questioned?” Leighton inquires, rolling her eyes.
“With you… Yes.” Blake responds honestly.
Leighton’s brow furrows as she asks another question, “And what makes you so curious?”
Blake thinks about it for a second.
“Your intentions.”
Leighton’s instincts freeze. She does not know how to react to that answer.
Silence.
Blake starts to wonder why Leighton suddenly shut up.
The petite girl saves herself by saying, “It’s not my fault that your arms decided to expand their empire.”
Blair Waldorf has not left the building.
“Alright, alright.” The taller girl huffs and puffs, shutting her eyes obediently.
“Closed.” She declares. “Satisfied?”
“Yes, very. Now, breathe in and out. And like, concentrate and stuff…”
Blake has a feeling that Leighton had no idea what the hell she was talking about.
“Can I just ask one question?”
“You already did.” is Leighton’s icy reply.
She was always the smart ass.
“Fine, can I ask two more? This one included.” Blake asks again, hoping that there weren’t any more annoying loopholes.
And she’s glad and relieved to hear Leighton say, “Fire away.”
“What exactly is the point of this?”
No answer.
“Leighton?”
The blonde grows apprehensive, she swears she will murder the other girl if she was being Punk’d or something.
“Leighton?”
And she finally answers.
“It’s for you to feel good after you open your eyes.” She tells the blonde, all cryptic and mysterious.