Bleighton? Yum! - Behind the Seen (Part2/2)
Title: Behind the Seen (Part 2/2)
Author: stratocaster24
Fandom: Gossip Girl - The amazing actresses who give life to Waldsen!!
Pairing: Blake/Leighton…
Rating: R
Summary: In which there may be actual sex…
Author's Notes: It wouldn’t fit in one post! Grr..=)
BEHIND THE SEEN
Part II
-stratocaster24-
With her visuals gone, her other senses heighten.
The blonde could tell where Leighton was by the volume of her voice.
And she’s close.
“Now, open them.” she hears Leighton whisper.
When Blake opens her eyes she meets Leighton’s below hers.
Then Blake has to totally redefine what she means by ‘close’.
The brunette is lying down, inverted from the blonde. Leighton’s head, the only part directly under Blake, chocolate hair free and strewn across the floor.
The blonde’s elbows shake and buckle a bit and Blake tries not to fall, face-first into Leighton.
Something tells Blake that Adrian isn’t going to make it.
She tears her eyes off of Leighton’s teasing look and she sees that Leighton’s other parts were, well…
At least Leighton is still in her lingerie.
“Are you looking at my boobs?”
Leighton thinks that ‘chest’ would’ve sounded better than ‘boobs’.
But being scandalized, she found it quite hard to screen her words.
“No. Why would I-” Blake blurts out, a little too defensive.
Leighton cuts her off, “-No! You did...”
She pauses because Blake’s attention is elsewhere.
“You are.” She informs the blonde smugly.
Blake’s attention snaps back to Leighton’s eyes like somebody slapped her.
Blake’s cheeks flush real red like somebody slapped her…
Over and over again.
And Leighton finds all of this wickedly amusing.
“Don’t be such a… boy.” She manages to utter in between mad giggling fits… thinking very highly of herself.
Although Blake’s common and social sense tells her to get the hell out of there or at least, get out of that tiring position, strangely, she just… couldn’t.
“But… You’re…” Blake chokes, unable to finish her sentence because she has no idea what the hell Leighton was playing at.
The smaller girl feels this sense of superiority of being capable to turn the blonde into a messy pile of poetic goo. She’s satisfied that the taller girl didn’t even budge.
It is amazing how Blake Lively can hold herself up like that for that long.
Leighton wonders when Blake will give way.
“… practically naked below you.” Leighton finishes quietly as she tucks Blake’s bangs behind her air, almost like an act of true affection.
Holding the blonde’s blue gaze with her brown one, she lets her thumb slide down Blake’s slightly wet-from-sweat jawline. And the blonde noticeably leans into her touch.
Now, it doesn’t matter if Blake denies it or not because Leighton knows that Blake wants it deep inside.
The question is, how deep?
That is something Leighton still has to find out.
So she probes.
“I want you Blake.”
“Yeah, I think it’s pretty obvious.” Blake laughs inappropriately.
When she realizes that it was a pretty dumb thing to say, it was a little too late.
See, if she wanted to get down and dirty with the girl below her, she would’ve said something like: “I’ve been wanting for you to say that for the longest time.” or “I want you too.”
And in case nobody noticed, Blake does want to get down and dirty with Leighton.
That’s why Blake wants to hit herself right now.
“And it’s not fair because I’m still in the dark on how you feel about me.”
Is that pain that Blake hears in her voice?
It really sounds like Leighton doesn’t appreciate apathy and inertia.
So Blake isn’t surprised when spots the signs of that trademark Blair Waldorf sneer.
“Kiss me.”
Blake doesn’t believe that she just said that.
“What? I’m a sex slave now?” Leighton seethes back cattily.
The blonde acknowledges the importance of a questioning tone.
Leighton starts to wiggle herself out of Blake’s physical confines, probably thinking that this was all wrong (which it was) and Blake wishes she could take her momentary act of stupidity back.
“And just so you know… That’s my line-”
Blake finds out that she can, in fact, take it back. She does so by swooping down, bending her elbows, and ensnaring the brunette’s lips in a hot, sultry kiss that involved teeth gnashing, tongue twirling, saline sampling and mind blowing.
Leighton is reminded of a very famous on-screen kiss, the one that involved an upside-down superhero, but then she forgets all about it when she hears a moan.
Subsequently, she proceeds to forget everything when she realizes it was her moaning all the while.
The only piece of knowledge that her whole entity retains is how to kiss Blake Lively back.
And that is exactly what she’ll do until she can’t breathe anymore.
= = = =
It isn’t long before they have to free themselves of each other’s mouthcuffs.
Because Blake couldn’t hold her weight and Leighton’s lips at the same time any longer, and so she had to push back up, panting.
Fifteen.
Also, because Leighton, having never locked lips with Blake before, had all the wind kissed right out of her.
At the moment, she finds it extremely difficult to describe the experience, forming weird phrases, pre-coital orgasm being one.
After realizing that she actually coined the term, pre-coital orgasm (which sounds like absolute bullshit), Leighton stops trying to invest the feeling in words.
She figures that the blue of Blake’s eyes is more interesting.
Blake clears her throat,
“Umm, so… Did I turn on any lights?” Blake asks timidly, her cobalt orbs traveling over Leighton’s face, in search of an answer.
The brunette is reminded of what she said earlier.
I’m still in the dark on how you feel about me
With a small smile, she responds, “Yes, Spiderman. You did”
‘Spiderman, of course.’ Leighton realizes, finding the unexpected eureka moment really silly.
“Did I, MJ?”
It looks like Blake gets the whole Spiderman reference too.
“You cleared the rain and the clouds, made the sun shine, summoned rainbows, called bunnies to hop around for no reason but for my enjoyment… God knows what else you did.”
Leighton’s grin grows wider with each metaphorical instance, to which Blake has to say:
“You are so gay.”
Leighton considers the remark to which she replies:
“Apparently, for you… I sort of…am.”
It earns a grin from Blake.
Touché.
And the marquee in Leighton’s head reads “SCORE! SCORE!” over again.
“One more rep for me?” Leighton pouts.
The blonde can’t help but dub the darker-haired girl, adorable.
Like the smooth criminal she was, breaking and entering Leighton’s mind, planning to go down a floor and do the same to her heart, Blake answers, “I’d do ten more if you ask me to.”
Leighton quirks an eyebrow, ready to bet the blonde on that.
But Blake, claiming herself an expert at reading Leighton, waves her white flag before letting the other girl say at thing.
“But seriously, let’s save that for another day. My arms are killing me.”
She pushes herself off of the floor and claps her palms clean.
The reality that her arms are indeed, very sore, sinks in at last.
Nevertheless, she offers Leighton her hand,
“Hey, the Hilton’s only six blocks away.”
Leighton takes it and Blake gently helps her to her feet.
“My, my. Aren’t we suggestive?” Leighton teases, slightly fazed from everything.
Blake gives her a cross look.
“I guess I can wait six blocks.” She says instantly, trying to put on the most convincing smile in her arsenal.
And it works because Blake pulls her close, tilts Leighton’s head toward her by the chin, and she kisses her affectionately…
Status report: Leighton’s brain, gone.
= = = =
If anyone was there to see the elevator open to the twenty-first floor of the hotel, they would’ve seen two ridiculously hot girls stumble out of the elevator, hair in total disarray, jackets unbuttoned, their lips glued together in a ridiculously hot make-out session.
It was so sad that nobody was there to see such a glorious exhibition of hawtness.
= = = =
Room 325.
A blonde haired girl is pinned to the hard wood of the door while the brunette multi-tasks between the keys and the kisses.
The door clicks open and mixes of impatience and horniness come rushing in.
With Leighton shoving her roughly into the room, never giving her time to breathe, Blake accidentally hits something. Luckily, it’s a switch and it lights up the dark room, making a startled Leighton stop for a second.
Blake reclaims the brunette’s attention by crashing back into her, not minding that it hurt a bit.
Then they maneuver their way around the suite, certain that their feet will lead them to the bed. All while taking each other’s outfits off.
The backs of Leighton’s knees meet the mattress.
And their feet are done for the night…
Status report: Clothes, gone.
= = = =
It is a quarter past midnight.
And the sheets are damp and wrinkled beyond comprehension.
The person on top rolls off of the person below and she plops lazily to the brunette’s right on the bed.
Chests rising and falling in frantic rhythms, audible intakes of breath, hard breathing and hearts beating so hard that it almost hurts…
But slowly, it steadies. It doesn’t feel as amazing as climax, but it’s just fine.
It’s just what they need.
Recuperation, so breathing becomes predictable again.
Back to the start.
Back to silence...
“Blair and Serena should totally have sex.”
Of all the things that could have cut through the quiet...
“It’ll be nice to see ourselves in action… On film, with a billion other people watching.” The person on the right says thoughtfully.
The girl on the left lifts her head off of the other girl’s shoulder and playfully says, “Blake, shut up.”
Then she rests her head back, inhaling the blonde’s scent…
Leighton wonders who else smells that good after sex?
After finding no answer, Leighton thinks that Blair and Serena should totally be doing each other. At it night and day for all she cared.
“I guess we could suck up to the writers.” The brunette admits, an implication that the subject was worth talking about.
And the blonde decides to continue where she left off, animatedly at that…
“We could make out in front of them. And they’ll be like…
Click! Why didn’t we think of that before!?! Hot lesbian love!!
And they’d so go off strike.” Blake finishes like she already won the writers over.
Again, Leighton is all amused by this.
She shifts a little, making her lips accessible to Blake’s neck, on which she places many, many kisses.
“I love how your brain works, Lively.”
She pauses, which draws out a groan of frustration from Blake, and adds this as an afterthought,
“How your mouth works too.”
It comes out a whisper, like Leighton doesn’t mean for Blake to have heard it.
But she catches it, all five words.
Blake smiles, wide and mischievous, and she asks her:
“Want it to go overtime?”
= = = =
Blake never thought that she’d be able to make Leighton Meester scream like this without having to pull the other girl’s hair out.
On the contrary, it was quite the opposite.
It was Leighton who had her hands buried in blonde, pulling.
But she’s still the one screaming.
Blake puts on a satisfied smile. And she licks it clean again, it being tainted with something that was not a cream puff, knowing Leighton will feel it under there.
“Blake!”
Leighton’s brown hair is sticking to her face. Her voice is high-pitched and desperate.
Just how Blake wants it.
It is official. Blake has composed and conducted the sweetest symphony.
And she has no intention of letting anyone else hear.
Blake knows that what happens behind the seen is not supposed to be shared.
This time, Leighton agrees that the both of them have a very good reason to be selfish.