we the coolest kids we know
we the coolest kids we know.
This is nothing new. Once, a blonde met a brunette and they started to love each other immediately. They will break up and get back together while an adoring public watches. They are both girls. That part never gets told right.
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Blair read too many love stories growing up. They featured tragic heroines saved by handsome princes and this is what Blair models her life after. She has no problem with it. Feminism always reeked of patchouli and body odor; she only ever wears Chanel No.5 anyways. She remembers conversations about this topic sharper than any other - nights spent with her body curled in towards Serena in pj’s and the feel of her breath on Blair’s face. More often than Nate (oops, that should read not but you know what they say about Freudian slips), a love story was playing softly in the background.
I want a boyfriend, Blair huffed. Serena, half-asleep and heavy-lidded, would mutter why? into the small space between them.
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Serena kisses Blair once.
It’s New Year’s Eve and there’s a flake of glitter stuck to the side of her nose.
The countdown gets lower and lower and she wonder where Nate is. Serena winks at her and leans in closer and closer, until their lips touch and her eyes close and Blair’s heart pounds.
You know you love me, she giggles into her ear and Blair doesn’t know what to say. She’s thirteen years old and loves her best friend.
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Serena kisses Blair a lot more than once, actually, but they are mostly secret, private things at sleepovers or getting ready or parties. They are hidden and lovely and Blair remembers as many as she possible can.
There’s a good chance you might’ve guessed that already, though.
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Blair realizes one night, late in Dan Humphrey’s bed, that she has a rather unladylike tendency to share boys with Serena. She’s naked of course, succumbed to the allure of an intellectual equal and art house films and the first time she kissed Humphrey she thinks he might’ve exhaled finally. It’s all rather incestuous, actually.
Nate, they shared equally. Dan, mostly Serena’s. Even Chuck, who is undoubtedly Blair’s, spent nights with Serena while Nate spent nights with Blair. And of course, Carter Baizen. Blair’s getting dizzy just thinking about it.
Dan snores and she wrinkles her nose before flipping the comforter off, padding to the kitchen to get water. Maybe we should just cut the middle man out, she thinks briefly before wondering where the thought came from and getting back into bed with Dan.
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Back when the O.C. was cool, Blair and Serena would watch it on school nights together at the Waldorfs. Harold would make them virgin cosmos and ice cream sundaes with extra whipped cream for Serena, extra chocolate sauce for Blair before pressing kisses to the crowns of their hands and striding upstairs.
Serena’s favorite was Ryan and Blair loved Seth. Looking back on it, this always struck them as strange.
Serena loved Marissa and Blair loved Summer. This part? Not so surprising.
There was a period where Marissa ran away from her horrible mother and stupid step-father and that suffocating mansion to live with a girl, kiss a girl, shower with a girl. Serena went starry-eyed and swooned at the freedom, the romanticism, the adventure.
“Wouldn’t that be wild, B?” and Blair stares at the corner of Serena’s mouth while she mutters, “I guess.”
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Sisters, Serena’s called them before. Blair swallows hard and nods along even though she disagrees. She loves her far too much for sisters.
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Slowly, Serena moves into Blair’s room. She cites loneliness and Blair rolls her eyes but moves over to the left side of the bed anyways. Serena’s never been alone for more than a couple nights in her life - there was always a boy or Eric or Blair.
After that first night, when Serena had smiled wide when Blair acquiesced and rubbed her cold feet all over Blair’s one and thanks a lot, Serena now we both have cold feet and then Serena giggled of course and fell asleep with her head on the same pillow as Blair’s.
She keeps her clothes in her closets but never sleeps in her own bed anymore. She wonders if Blair could’ve planned this.
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There are times when Blair wakes up in the middle of the night, Serena pressed to her side and smelling like coconut, that she can’t remember how old she is.
Serena, she wants to say, do you love Nate or do I?
As soon as she thinks it is when she realizes where she is, stuck in 2011 with no Chuck and a fabulous career. She is happy, mostly, and engaging in a brief flirtation with Dan Humphrey for reasons that she can’t comprehend even in her most lucid moments. Serena is still here, miraculously.
The last one is the most important. She falls back asleep to the little sound of not-quite-snoring that Serena has done since she was little, counting Louboutins instead of sheep.
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They go shopping and share a changing room. Blair strips down to change into a dress and Serena can not stop staring.
Blair notices in the mirror and doesn’t look away.
This isn’t the beginning. It’s not anywhere near the end, either.
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They’ve always loved each other. Serena remembers this more than most things - over the feel of Nate’s lips and the way that Carter smelled and the imprint of Dan’s hand on her hip.
Valentine’s Day went horribly wrong and Serena had only wanted to spend it with Blair. Ben’s fingers run gently up her back and Serena sighs before relaxing into his touch.
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Ben loses appeal sooner rather than later, as they all do. Blair disposes of Dan around the same time, huffs when he pouts a little and tells him to check back into Motel Vanessa until he’s feeling better.
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There’s an end to this story that no one ever saw coming.
There is no Paris, no Santorini, no Brooklyn. There is a multi-million dollar apartment on the Upper East Side where both of them have always belonged and there’s Audrey in the background.
They are in Blair’s bed, sleeping in silky underthings and 1500 thread count sheets. A bottle of champagne is on the dresser and two bowls of ice cream melt slowly. Blair’s head is on Serena’s shoulder, her fingers unconsciously running through Blair’s hair while Moon River soars through the room.
Someone leans in first and it is probably Serena but either way they are hidden behind a sheath of hair, brown and blonde and straight and curly and long and beneath it there is just the two of them. The kiss is long and Blair slips in tongue, Serena's hands racing south and this is what happily ever after means sometimes, she guesses.
That part about no one seeing it coming? That was a lie, and sorry for that. But Blair and Serena have always known it would end with the two of them.
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Gossip Girl sends out a text with a picture of Serena’s hand too low on Blair’s back and calling them lipstick lesbians; they laugh it off. Nate stares at them with Bambi eyes and his jaw dropped. Dan mumbles and pouts, probably locks himself into his room and writes a story about his lesbian ex-lovers. Chuck smiles lasciviously and purrs some sort of invitation to join him in his latest orgy.
You know you love us, they say and strut home with their arms locked around each other. Everyone watches them walk away.
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Lipstick lesbians: they generally enjoy fashion, flowers, perfume, sex and the city, lingerie, and (gasp!) passionate sex with women.
Blair stares at the Urban Dictionary definition and calls Serena over from lounging on the bed.
Serena shrugs and looks over to Blair. “Sounds about right, right?” before leaning in for a kiss and swallowing any of Blair’s protest.
“Not fair,” she murmurs when Serena pulls away and all she says is, “Get used to it!” over her shoulder.
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Two weeks later, there’s a picture of Chuck and Nate leaning in too close at the Empire bar. Blair and Serena have always been trendsetters.