so much of everything
Title: so much of everything
Chapter: 1/1
Pairing: Nate/Serena (pre-pilot)
Summary: Drunk!Serena/Sober!Nate. For sing_song_sung . Merry Christmas, bb!
Word Count: 2,300
Disclaimer: I don't own Gossip Girl.
Her heels make her legs look amazing, but make it nearly impossible to sneak around anywhere. This wouldn't be a problem if she didn't insist on sneaking around in the first place.
"Nate!" she half-whispers, "stop it! What's that noise?"
He wants to laugh, but it'll encourage her, and the last thing he needs is for her to be more extroverted. "It's you, S."
"No!"
"Yes," he laughs, stepping behind her, steering her with his hands on her upper arms. She's been working at these stairs for at least 5 minutes. "What're you trying to do here?"
"We have to go up," she insists, nodding emphatically. He chuckles again, moves his thumbs over her skin. Her heels hit the marble again. "Why is this floor so loud?"
"Serena," he laughs. He walks up the steps so he's standing in front of her. "You're being crazy right now. I think the tequila was a bad idea."
She giggles, girlish and adorable, clutches the front of his shirt and covers her mouth with her hand. "Tequila is never a bad idea. Never, Nate."
"Okay," he concedes. God, she's cute.
This part isn't usually his job, dealing with her after she's had too much to drink. Chuck is good about letting her sleep it off in his suite, pouring bloody mary's down her throat in the morning to cure the hangover and making sure her clothes are laundered in time for her to leave. Blair takes her home and babies her and gets her to drink a ton of water and thinks of things like calling Lily and clean panties and lots of carbs to soak up the alcohol.
He just wants to spend time with her. Drunk or sober, he just wants to be around her. Since neither of their friends are around, it's him and her in his parents' huge summer house in the Hamptons and a stupid party for something or someone going on outside. It's barely 10:30 and she's completely hammered. It'd be really funny if he wasn't so worried about her. That comes more easily than even taking care of her does.
"Why'd you bring me here?" she asks, sitting down right on the step in the middle of the staircase. She crosses her legs to sit indian-style, not paying much mind to whether or not her dress is covering her.
It's not.
"I wanted to."
"Natie," she whines. "Answer. For real, answer."
"Because I like having you around," he says, rolling his eyes. "C'mon. Upstairs before someone sees you."
The idea of one of these old perverts seeing her yellow panties under her dress makes Nate have to grind his teeth.
She gives him this little smile and her eyes are all mischievous. "Carry me?"
"Serena," he laughs. "You're such a demanding drunk."
"Hey!" she cries indignantly. He steps in front of her and crouches down so she can get onto his back and he starts piggy-backing her up the stairs. "I'm not a drunk, I'm just drunk. 'S'a difference."
"For now," he mutters under his breath.
The truth is, this kind of thing has been happening more and more often. Blair is scared (so is he) but Chuck keeps saying it's just a phase and she'll grow out of it once the thrill of rebelling wears off. He kind of hopes that's right. The best thing about Serena is that she can make you feel drunk without a drop of alcohol hitting your tongue. She's a million times more charming than she has any business being, and she's so goddamn gorgeous it's impossible not to be a little in awe of her.
He gets her upstairs and she wants to walk again, so he puts her down and she holds onto his shoulder while she slips off her shoes. She shoves them into his hands and takes off down the hall.
"Know what we should do?" she asks, walking backwards just outside the door to his bedroom.
"Sleep it off?" he suggests, laughing a little at how she's acting. She shakes her head rapidly. He worries she's going to make herself sick. "What?"
"We should make a fort."
"Serena," he laughs. "C'mon. We should just get you into bed."
"That's not fun," she says seriously. He pushes her into his bedroom and he closes the door behind him. "You're not fun. Blair makes you be not fun."
"What does Blair have to do with anything?" he asks, dropping her shoes on the floor and loosening his tie. It's not that he's mad she mentioned it, he just really wants to know how the two things are related.
"She's your girlfriend."
"She's your best friend."
"Yeah, but I don't let her boss me around," she says seriously.
"You don't let anybody boss you around," he reminds her.
"You were just bossing me around," she points out, walking towards him. He rolls his eyes and shakes his head.
"But it's okay when I do it, right?" he asks, grinning enough to make her giggle. She nods and puts her hands on his hips. "Come on. Let's get you into bed."
"Not the best line I've ever heard, Natie," she teases.
She still grabs the hem of her yellow dress, pulls it up over her head and drops it on the floor. He's standing right in front of her and she's wearing a strapless bra and matching panties, and it's seriously impossible not to look at her. She's so gorgeous, all tanned skin and curves and everything he wants. She's got these freckles, too, and it's adorable and sexy at the same time. He can't help it when he reaches out and drags his knuckle down her side until his hand is wrapped around her hip.
"You shouldn't have done that," he says quietly, trying to look at her eyes. It's not all that hard, actually, since they're so blue and sparkling with something right now.
"I can do whatever I want," she says petulantly. She's still smiling, though, and he wants to laugh, but his body won't let him.
"You should get into bed," he says, pulling away from her. He tugs back the sheets and nudges her towards the bed, and she sits down at the edge, looking up at him. It's stupid how much he wants to kiss her.
"Aren't you getting in?" she asks quietly. He can tell she's getting to the tired part of her drunkenness. Chuck's warned him about this.
"I'm gonna get you some water. I'll be back," he promises. She nods and lays down, and he covers her over. "Don't move, okay?"
"Okay," she says, closing her eyes. "I promise."
She's just curling up on his pillow when he slips out of the room. He knows he's risking someone seeing him by going back downstairs to the kitchen, but he doesn't care. She definitely needs water. That's what Blair would do if she was here, make Serena drink lots of water and get lots of sleep. But really, all he can think about is that Serena is laying in his bed right now. Serena is in his bed right now in nothing but her bra and panties, and it's wrong and stupid and wrong, but he wants to be there with her.
And if he takes the stairs two at a time it's just because no one's seen him yet and he just wants to get back to her with the bottle of water he's got in his hand.
She's sitting up, cross legged again with the sheet over her lap, when he walks back into the room. She's got little sections of her long hair in her fingers, braiding them carefully, chewing on her bottom lip in concentration. She doesn't even acknowledge that he's back in the room. He unbuttons his shirt and takes it off, and he's got on a tee shirt underneath, so it's okay. Not that it really matters because she's sitting on his bed practically naked. He thinks it would probably be alright if he took off some clothes, too.
"Pants."
He laughs and tosses the bottle of water onto the bed. She tries to give him what he assumes is a glare or a threatening look or something, but it just ends up looking really cute and kind of silly. Still, he unbuckles his belt and unzips his pants, lets them fall to the floor before making his way to the bed and pulling back the covers. She lays down again, the little braid she just finished falling over her face. He laughs and pushes it away, but leaves it between his fingers and plays with it a little.
"You feel okay?" he asks. He doesn't know where the need to take care of her comes from. It doesn't matter, he supposes. She nods and slips her hand up under his tee shirt to rest against his ribs. "You make me worry."
"Shut up," she giggles.
He tangles their legs together and moves closer. "I mean it." She closes her eyes and pushes her nose against him a little bit. It's like they're kissing without the kissing part. He knows this is probably wrong, too, but he's not cheating on Blair or anything, not really. "You're my best friend."
Her eyes flutter closed, then open again, and he knows she wants to kiss him. She gets this look on her face that he's seen a lot before, especially recently. Her eyes get all soft, and they're clearer now, even though he knows she's still drunk. She rolls away from him and onto her back, and his hand slides down her body. It kind of grazes her breast, but she doesn't seem to mind all that much. He sets it on her bare hip and lets his pinky move a little bit against the material of her panties.
"It's easier this way," she says, turning her face away from him.
"What is?"
She sighs and shakes her head. "Nothing."
"S." He knows he shouldn't, but he pushes himself so he's on top of her. She parts her legs easily, and it's hard not to think about all the times he's been with Blair and she's stopped him from doing this, closed her legs tight and gotten mad at him. Serena just lets him, and they fit together, and she slides her hands up his back like they're meant to be there or something. "We used to tell each other everything."
"That was before," she says quickly. "Before you and Blair."
"Me and Blair have nothing to do with me and you."
She pushes at his chest hard, like she's trying to hurt him. "That's not true. That's not true."
He doesn't know why she says it twice, because he heard her the first time and knows what she means.
"Is that why?" he asks quietly, fingertips tracing along her cheek. "All this?"
All this, the drinking, the pulling away from him and everyone. He has hardly really seen her lately, unless it's been at some stupid event like the one tonight where almost everyone is. She spends a lot of her time in the city, and when she's here she's still acting like she's in Manhattan on a Saturday night or whatever. He misses her more than he wants to even tell her. He knows he can't tell anyone else.
She kisses him, just barely, and pushes him off her. He could stay if he wanted to (which he really does) but he doesn't want to hurt her and he doesn't really know what any of this means. He's not stupid, and he knows she and him were always closer than he and Blair, but he didn't think...
To be honest, he didn't really think at all. Blair just kind of told him she wanted to be together, so they are. It's cool. He likes Blair a lot, and she's nice to him most of the time.
It's just...Serena.
He looks over at her and she's on her side, hands tucked up under the pillow like always, so they don't get cold. He wants to say something but he doesn't know what, so he just turns on his side so he's facing her and does his best to tell himself it'd be a bad idea to touch her.
"Maybe someday you'll fall in love with me," she says sleepily. She opens one eye and he's just watching her.
He kisses the tip of her nose and pulls her close.
He's kind of already in love with her. Maybe someday he'll actually tell her.
She'll probably wake up in the morning and not remember any of this. It's funny how she thinks he's breaking her heart or something, but really, she's doing the same thing right back to him.
Chapter: 1/1
Pairing: Nate/Serena (pre-pilot)
Summary: Drunk!Serena/Sober!Nate. For sing_song_sung . Merry Christmas, bb!
Word Count: 2,300
Disclaimer: I don't own Gossip Girl.
Her heels make her legs look amazing, but make it nearly impossible to sneak around anywhere. This wouldn't be a problem if she didn't insist on sneaking around in the first place.
"Nate!" she half-whispers, "stop it! What's that noise?"
He wants to laugh, but it'll encourage her, and the last thing he needs is for her to be more extroverted. "It's you, S."
"No!"
"Yes," he laughs, stepping behind her, steering her with his hands on her upper arms. She's been working at these stairs for at least 5 minutes. "What're you trying to do here?"
"We have to go up," she insists, nodding emphatically. He chuckles again, moves his thumbs over her skin. Her heels hit the marble again. "Why is this floor so loud?"
"Serena," he laughs. He walks up the steps so he's standing in front of her. "You're being crazy right now. I think the tequila was a bad idea."
She giggles, girlish and adorable, clutches the front of his shirt and covers her mouth with her hand. "Tequila is never a bad idea. Never, Nate."
"Okay," he concedes. God, she's cute.
This part isn't usually his job, dealing with her after she's had too much to drink. Chuck is good about letting her sleep it off in his suite, pouring bloody mary's down her throat in the morning to cure the hangover and making sure her clothes are laundered in time for her to leave. Blair takes her home and babies her and gets her to drink a ton of water and thinks of things like calling Lily and clean panties and lots of carbs to soak up the alcohol.
He just wants to spend time with her. Drunk or sober, he just wants to be around her. Since neither of their friends are around, it's him and her in his parents' huge summer house in the Hamptons and a stupid party for something or someone going on outside. It's barely 10:30 and she's completely hammered. It'd be really funny if he wasn't so worried about her. That comes more easily than even taking care of her does.
"Why'd you bring me here?" she asks, sitting down right on the step in the middle of the staircase. She crosses her legs to sit indian-style, not paying much mind to whether or not her dress is covering her.
It's not.
"I wanted to."
"Natie," she whines. "Answer. For real, answer."
"Because I like having you around," he says, rolling his eyes. "C'mon. Upstairs before someone sees you."
The idea of one of these old perverts seeing her yellow panties under her dress makes Nate have to grind his teeth.
She gives him this little smile and her eyes are all mischievous. "Carry me?"
"Serena," he laughs. "You're such a demanding drunk."
"Hey!" she cries indignantly. He steps in front of her and crouches down so she can get onto his back and he starts piggy-backing her up the stairs. "I'm not a drunk, I'm just drunk. 'S'a difference."
"For now," he mutters under his breath.
The truth is, this kind of thing has been happening more and more often. Blair is scared (so is he) but Chuck keeps saying it's just a phase and she'll grow out of it once the thrill of rebelling wears off. He kind of hopes that's right. The best thing about Serena is that she can make you feel drunk without a drop of alcohol hitting your tongue. She's a million times more charming than she has any business being, and she's so goddamn gorgeous it's impossible not to be a little in awe of her.
He gets her upstairs and she wants to walk again, so he puts her down and she holds onto his shoulder while she slips off her shoes. She shoves them into his hands and takes off down the hall.
"Know what we should do?" she asks, walking backwards just outside the door to his bedroom.
"Sleep it off?" he suggests, laughing a little at how she's acting. She shakes her head rapidly. He worries she's going to make herself sick. "What?"
"We should make a fort."
"Serena," he laughs. "C'mon. We should just get you into bed."
"That's not fun," she says seriously. He pushes her into his bedroom and he closes the door behind him. "You're not fun. Blair makes you be not fun."
"What does Blair have to do with anything?" he asks, dropping her shoes on the floor and loosening his tie. It's not that he's mad she mentioned it, he just really wants to know how the two things are related.
"She's your girlfriend."
"She's your best friend."
"Yeah, but I don't let her boss me around," she says seriously.
"You don't let anybody boss you around," he reminds her.
"You were just bossing me around," she points out, walking towards him. He rolls his eyes and shakes his head.
"But it's okay when I do it, right?" he asks, grinning enough to make her giggle. She nods and puts her hands on his hips. "Come on. Let's get you into bed."
"Not the best line I've ever heard, Natie," she teases.
She still grabs the hem of her yellow dress, pulls it up over her head and drops it on the floor. He's standing right in front of her and she's wearing a strapless bra and matching panties, and it's seriously impossible not to look at her. She's so gorgeous, all tanned skin and curves and everything he wants. She's got these freckles, too, and it's adorable and sexy at the same time. He can't help it when he reaches out and drags his knuckle down her side until his hand is wrapped around her hip.
"You shouldn't have done that," he says quietly, trying to look at her eyes. It's not all that hard, actually, since they're so blue and sparkling with something right now.
"I can do whatever I want," she says petulantly. She's still smiling, though, and he wants to laugh, but his body won't let him.
"You should get into bed," he says, pulling away from her. He tugs back the sheets and nudges her towards the bed, and she sits down at the edge, looking up at him. It's stupid how much he wants to kiss her.
"Aren't you getting in?" she asks quietly. He can tell she's getting to the tired part of her drunkenness. Chuck's warned him about this.
"I'm gonna get you some water. I'll be back," he promises. She nods and lays down, and he covers her over. "Don't move, okay?"
"Okay," she says, closing her eyes. "I promise."
She's just curling up on his pillow when he slips out of the room. He knows he's risking someone seeing him by going back downstairs to the kitchen, but he doesn't care. She definitely needs water. That's what Blair would do if she was here, make Serena drink lots of water and get lots of sleep. But really, all he can think about is that Serena is laying in his bed right now. Serena is in his bed right now in nothing but her bra and panties, and it's wrong and stupid and wrong, but he wants to be there with her.
And if he takes the stairs two at a time it's just because no one's seen him yet and he just wants to get back to her with the bottle of water he's got in his hand.
She's sitting up, cross legged again with the sheet over her lap, when he walks back into the room. She's got little sections of her long hair in her fingers, braiding them carefully, chewing on her bottom lip in concentration. She doesn't even acknowledge that he's back in the room. He unbuttons his shirt and takes it off, and he's got on a tee shirt underneath, so it's okay. Not that it really matters because she's sitting on his bed practically naked. He thinks it would probably be alright if he took off some clothes, too.
"Pants."
He laughs and tosses the bottle of water onto the bed. She tries to give him what he assumes is a glare or a threatening look or something, but it just ends up looking really cute and kind of silly. Still, he unbuckles his belt and unzips his pants, lets them fall to the floor before making his way to the bed and pulling back the covers. She lays down again, the little braid she just finished falling over her face. He laughs and pushes it away, but leaves it between his fingers and plays with it a little.
"You feel okay?" he asks. He doesn't know where the need to take care of her comes from. It doesn't matter, he supposes. She nods and slips her hand up under his tee shirt to rest against his ribs. "You make me worry."
"Shut up," she giggles.
He tangles their legs together and moves closer. "I mean it." She closes her eyes and pushes her nose against him a little bit. It's like they're kissing without the kissing part. He knows this is probably wrong, too, but he's not cheating on Blair or anything, not really. "You're my best friend."
Her eyes flutter closed, then open again, and he knows she wants to kiss him. She gets this look on her face that he's seen a lot before, especially recently. Her eyes get all soft, and they're clearer now, even though he knows she's still drunk. She rolls away from him and onto her back, and his hand slides down her body. It kind of grazes her breast, but she doesn't seem to mind all that much. He sets it on her bare hip and lets his pinky move a little bit against the material of her panties.
"It's easier this way," she says, turning her face away from him.
"What is?"
She sighs and shakes her head. "Nothing."
"S." He knows he shouldn't, but he pushes himself so he's on top of her. She parts her legs easily, and it's hard not to think about all the times he's been with Blair and she's stopped him from doing this, closed her legs tight and gotten mad at him. Serena just lets him, and they fit together, and she slides her hands up his back like they're meant to be there or something. "We used to tell each other everything."
"That was before," she says quickly. "Before you and Blair."
"Me and Blair have nothing to do with me and you."
She pushes at his chest hard, like she's trying to hurt him. "That's not true. That's not true."
He doesn't know why she says it twice, because he heard her the first time and knows what she means.
"Is that why?" he asks quietly, fingertips tracing along her cheek. "All this?"
All this, the drinking, the pulling away from him and everyone. He has hardly really seen her lately, unless it's been at some stupid event like the one tonight where almost everyone is. She spends a lot of her time in the city, and when she's here she's still acting like she's in Manhattan on a Saturday night or whatever. He misses her more than he wants to even tell her. He knows he can't tell anyone else.
She kisses him, just barely, and pushes him off her. He could stay if he wanted to (which he really does) but he doesn't want to hurt her and he doesn't really know what any of this means. He's not stupid, and he knows she and him were always closer than he and Blair, but he didn't think...
To be honest, he didn't really think at all. Blair just kind of told him she wanted to be together, so they are. It's cool. He likes Blair a lot, and she's nice to him most of the time.
It's just...Serena.
He looks over at her and she's on her side, hands tucked up under the pillow like always, so they don't get cold. He wants to say something but he doesn't know what, so he just turns on his side so he's facing her and does his best to tell himself it'd be a bad idea to touch her.
"Maybe someday you'll fall in love with me," she says sleepily. She opens one eye and he's just watching her.
He kisses the tip of her nose and pulls her close.
He's kind of already in love with her. Maybe someday he'll actually tell her.
She'll probably wake up in the morning and not remember any of this. It's funny how she thinks he's breaking her heart or something, but really, she's doing the same thing right back to him.