Dinner Party Etiquette (2/?)
Fandom: Gossip Girl
Title: Dinner Party Etiquette
Pairing; Characters: Chuck/Blair; Chuck, Blair, Eleanor
Rating: PG-13/R
Summary: Dinner parties are always interesting with Blair's foot running up and down your leg while you're trying to focus on the inane conversation of the rest of the table.
Disclaimer: Gossip Girl isn't mine
They slip into the room together which they’re finally getting good at after commanding attention every time they walked into a room for so many years. The two move to an empty spot near the wall and survey the room.
“There’s Eleanor. I suppose I should go talk to her so she knows I’m here,” Blair sighs, oppression settling around her as her duty to keep up appearances settles around her shoulders.
“Ok,” he says and lets go of her waist.
Blair makes her way across the room to where Eleanor is standing with people she only half-recognizes by face only, from previous events.
The lady standing next to her mother in the circle notices her and takes a few steps to her right so Blair can join them.
“Blair darling, there you are. I haven’t seen you all night,” Eleanor says too enthusiastically to be sincere as she places her cheek against Blair’s for a society kiss. “This is my daughter Blair. Blair, this is Mr. and Mrs. Huntington,” the man and lady to Eleanor’s left, “Mr. Abbott,” the man next to them, “Mr. and Mrs. Carteti,” the couple next to him, “and Mrs. Driscoll,” the lady that moved for her and was currently on Blair’s right.
“Oh, and this is my husband and my son,” Mrs. Driscoll said as a man and a boy joined their circle.
“Hello, I’m Andrew,” the boy introduces himself, and much to Blair’s surprise, sticks out his hand. Upper East Siders do not shake hands; they air kiss, they kiss the backs of hands, occasionally hug, but hand shakes are reserved for men not to be used when being introduced to the hostess’ daughter. This was not a business deal, but Blair shook his hand anyways, not wanting to be rude. Her gaze travels from their shaking hands up to his face. Of course, only extremely new money would shake, instead of kiss, her hand. It was the boy from the bar.
“Blair,” she tells him and lets go of his hand.
“Nice to meet you,” he says.
“Likewise,” she replies.
“The Driscolls just moved here from Trenton,” Eleanor informs her, as if Blair hasn’t already seen that they might be a bit slow socially. And while she isn’t sure if Trenton is in New Jersey, she mentally gives herself points for knowing that he was new to her world.
“How nice,” Blair replies socially. “Are you enjoying the city?”
“Yes, very much,” Andrew replies and Blair can barely resist the urge to tell him to shut up, that his parents were supposed to answer the question, not him. “The city is very beautiful.” Blair smiles but is honestly appalled at his lack of discretion. He should’ve just shouted to the entire room that he thinks she’s attractive.
Then, she feels her hand being taken and she sees Chuck who kisses the back of it. “I’m sorry to interrupt, but I was talking to a lovely couple who are just dying to meet the hostess’ daughter,” Chuck says and looks to Eleanor for approval.
“Of course Charles,” Eleanor agrees.
Chuck leads her away from their little circle and they stand together close to a corner for privacy. “I see you have a stalker,” he says with a raised eyebrow, unsure if she has anything to do with him being here.
“I know,” Blair replies with disgust. “His family is new. My cat has more social grace and tact than he does, it’s disgusting. He better learn fast.”
“Are you going to offer to give him lessons?”
“Of course not. I have better things to do.”
“Like what?”
“You,” she replies with a smile and Chuck has to keep reminding himself that they’re in public and he can’t do anything to her.
The rest of the guests start making their way to their seats and so their little private time is over and they make their way to the front of the
room at the table where Eleanor is standing and talking. The woman walks away from Eleanor and Eleanor sits down, signaling that dinner
is about to begin and everyone takes their seats. Once they’re seated, they take a look at the other guests at the table.
Seated at their table are the Driscolls, with Andrew sitting directly across from Blair at their circular table of eight.
Blair wonders just how much money the Driscolls are investing in Eleanor’s new shoe line, or if Eleanor has some ulterior motive, sitting them at the most coveted table in the room.
She glances at Chuck and sees his jaw tighten once he notices Andrew’s at their table. She runs the toe of her shoes up and down his calf to calm him, but in an unprecedented move, he shifts just the slightest bit away from her, unnoticeable to everyone else.
Their table is on of the smallest eight-person tables she’s ever sat at. It’s smaller to make conversation easier. Even the centerpieces are low: glass bowls filled with colored water with flowers floating on top, the colors of Eleanor’s new shoe collection, of course.
The waiters appear and start setting salads down in front of everyone.
“Andrew, where will you be attending school?” Cathryn Wakefield asks from her spot on Eleanor’s left.
“I start at St. Jude’s School for Boys tomorrow,” he responds.
“St. Jude’s? That’s where Charles attends, I’m sure you’ll enjoy it there. It’s a very prestigious school,” Eleanor adds.
“I checked into so many different schools for him, but St. Jude’s sounded like the best Mrs. Driscoll says.
“It’s a wonderful school,” Cathryn speaks up. “My nephew, Blaine Spalding graduated form there and now he’s at Harvard studying biomedical engineering.”
“Really? A cousin of mine is there for pre-law right now. And of course, that’s Scott’s alma mater,” Mrs. Driscoll gushes as she rests her hand on her husband’s shoulder. “Blair, where do you plan on attending college?”
"Yale,” Blair replies with a sweet smile.
“Ah, another fantastic school,” Mrs. Driscoll replies.
The waiters come at that moment and take away their empty plates and replace them with their model-sized portioned entrées that cost as much as a new pair of Jimmy Choos.
“And Charles, where do you plan on going?” Mrs. Driscoll inquires politely.
“I plan on doing absolutely no-” he stops mid-sentence when he feels Blair’s pointy shoes kicking him in the leg. “I plan on keeping my options open for now. Maybe Brown, Yale…I haven’t decided yet.”
“Of course not, you have plenty of time to figure it all out,” Mrs. Driscoll reassures him, even though he doesn’t need any reassurances from her.
Everyone at the table knows they should inquire about Andrew’s post-high school ambitions and Eleanor tries to discreetly catch either Blair or Chuck’s eye, but neither of them even glance in her direction.
“So, Andrew, what do you plan on doing after high school?” Eleanor asks him herself.
“I plan on going to Harvard, of course, and becoming a doctor,” he replies.
Blair almost breaks out into giggles. A doctor? UES children become stock investors, business owners, housewives, charity organizers, anything that doesn’t require too much effort. Being a doctor requires too much effort and dedication, no true UES would even consider it as a career.
“Oh, that’s lovely,” Cathryn says quickly. “There are so few good doctors anymore.”
Chuck feels Blair’s foot traveling slowly up his leg. They’re barely halfway through dinner and he can’t wait to get her out of there already.
Blair’s now de-shoed foot plays with his leg and Chuck lets himself fantasize about all the things he’s going to do to her when this is over.
He slips his left hand onto his lab, then onto Blair’s knee without making it obvious. He traces designs on her thigh while he eats with his right hand and Blair forces herself to keep eating so no one notices something’s going on between them. This continues for a minute and then her right leg wraps around his left and as best as she can manage, moves it up and down.
As the wait staff appears to take away their empty plates and replace them with desert, Blair and Chuck’s hands magically appear again.
Chuck tries to listen to the conversation again, but they’re talking about Eleanor’s line and is glad because then he really doesn’t have to pay attention because they won’t include him in the conversation anyways.
And as the waiters disappear, Chuck loses any attempt to try and follow the conversation because Blair’s hand has disappeared from the
table and is dangerously close to his crotch. As he takes a bite of his chocolate mousse, his left hand hitches her dress up and slips into her panties. She grabs his hardened cock through his pants as he plays with her clitoris under the table, their company too engrossed in their conversation to notice.
As he moves his fingers, he notices she bites down on her spoon discreetly to keep from making any noise. She rubs her hand over his pants, his cock getting harder with each stroke and isn’t sure how much more of this dinner he can take.
“Blair?” Eleanor’s voice cuts through and they both freeze.
“Yes?” Blair asks, knowing she missed something.
“Cathryn was just asking how your charity event is going for the flood victims,” Eleanor replies with a smile that says she’s embarrassed by having to repeat a question to her daughter like she’s a seven-year-old.
“Oh, it’s going quite well. We’ve decided it is going to be held in this gallery that’s currently displaying pictures of the damage form the flood,” Blair says smoothly as she and Chuck both remove their hands from each other.
“That’s a fantastic idea,” Cathryn smiles at her.
“Thank you.”
“Are you feeling alright, Blair? You don’t look too good,” Eleanor comments and looks to her for an explanation.
“Don’t I?” Blair asks innocently. “I’m sorry, I’m just worried about this test we have tomorrow,” she lies. “I’ve been so busy planning for the flood charity that I haven’t had much time to study.”
“Well, why don’t you go study dear?” Eleanor suggests. “Yale accepts only the best.”
Blair refuses, “Oh no mother, I couldn’t leave your dinner.”
“Tests are important, Blair. I’m more than capable of hosting my own party for the rest of the night,” Eleanor chuckles and the rest of the table joins in.
“Okay, if you’re sure,” Blair “gives in” as she stands up.
“Of course,” Eleanor replies. “Charles, do you have the same class?”
“I’m afraid I do,” Chuck tells her.
“Then you’d best go study too. I don’t want to be the ruin of your college career either,” Eleanor jokes and the table laughs again.
“Thank you,” Chuck says as he rises.
“What class is this test for?” Mrs. Driscoll asks them before they can leave.
“Chemistry,” Chuck replies and they walk out of the dinner party together.
As soon as they’re alone in his suite, Blair asks, “Chemistry?”
Chuck smirks, “They wanted to know.” His lips crash onto hers as Eleanor’s party goes on without them.
So I'm really kind of enjoying this whole B&C etiquette thing. Obviously lol. I think I'll continue, and they'll probably get a little bit dirtier. Any places/ettiquette you'd like to see Blair and Chuck tackle? (Maybe shopping or something....?) I'm totally up for suggestions.
But how did you like this one?
And yeah, my header is my writing, I usually handwrite everything before I type it up.
Feel free to friend the community for updates if you'd like to. I'm pretty nice and I don't bite =)
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Title: Dinner Party Etiquette
Pairing; Characters: Chuck/Blair; Chuck, Blair, Eleanor
Rating: PG-13/R
Summary: Dinner parties are always interesting with Blair's foot running up and down your leg while you're trying to focus on the inane conversation of the rest of the table.
Disclaimer: Gossip Girl isn't mine
They slip into the room together which they’re finally getting good at after commanding attention every time they walked into a room for so many years. The two move to an empty spot near the wall and survey the room.
“There’s Eleanor. I suppose I should go talk to her so she knows I’m here,” Blair sighs, oppression settling around her as her duty to keep up appearances settles around her shoulders.
“Ok,” he says and lets go of her waist.
Blair makes her way across the room to where Eleanor is standing with people she only half-recognizes by face only, from previous events.
The lady standing next to her mother in the circle notices her and takes a few steps to her right so Blair can join them.
“Blair darling, there you are. I haven’t seen you all night,” Eleanor says too enthusiastically to be sincere as she places her cheek against Blair’s for a society kiss. “This is my daughter Blair. Blair, this is Mr. and Mrs. Huntington,” the man and lady to Eleanor’s left, “Mr. Abbott,” the man next to them, “Mr. and Mrs. Carteti,” the couple next to him, “and Mrs. Driscoll,” the lady that moved for her and was currently on Blair’s right.
“Oh, and this is my husband and my son,” Mrs. Driscoll said as a man and a boy joined their circle.
“Hello, I’m Andrew,” the boy introduces himself, and much to Blair’s surprise, sticks out his hand. Upper East Siders do not shake hands; they air kiss, they kiss the backs of hands, occasionally hug, but hand shakes are reserved for men not to be used when being introduced to the hostess’ daughter. This was not a business deal, but Blair shook his hand anyways, not wanting to be rude. Her gaze travels from their shaking hands up to his face. Of course, only extremely new money would shake, instead of kiss, her hand. It was the boy from the bar.
“Blair,” she tells him and lets go of his hand.
“Nice to meet you,” he says.
“Likewise,” she replies.
“The Driscolls just moved here from Trenton,” Eleanor informs her, as if Blair hasn’t already seen that they might be a bit slow socially. And while she isn’t sure if Trenton is in New Jersey, she mentally gives herself points for knowing that he was new to her world.
“How nice,” Blair replies socially. “Are you enjoying the city?”
“Yes, very much,” Andrew replies and Blair can barely resist the urge to tell him to shut up, that his parents were supposed to answer the question, not him. “The city is very beautiful.” Blair smiles but is honestly appalled at his lack of discretion. He should’ve just shouted to the entire room that he thinks she’s attractive.
Then, she feels her hand being taken and she sees Chuck who kisses the back of it. “I’m sorry to interrupt, but I was talking to a lovely couple who are just dying to meet the hostess’ daughter,” Chuck says and looks to Eleanor for approval.
“Of course Charles,” Eleanor agrees.
Chuck leads her away from their little circle and they stand together close to a corner for privacy. “I see you have a stalker,” he says with a raised eyebrow, unsure if she has anything to do with him being here.
“I know,” Blair replies with disgust. “His family is new. My cat has more social grace and tact than he does, it’s disgusting. He better learn fast.”
“Are you going to offer to give him lessons?”
“Of course not. I have better things to do.”
“Like what?”
“You,” she replies with a smile and Chuck has to keep reminding himself that they’re in public and he can’t do anything to her.
The rest of the guests start making their way to their seats and so their little private time is over and they make their way to the front of the
room at the table where Eleanor is standing and talking. The woman walks away from Eleanor and Eleanor sits down, signaling that dinner
is about to begin and everyone takes their seats. Once they’re seated, they take a look at the other guests at the table.
Seated at their table are the Driscolls, with Andrew sitting directly across from Blair at their circular table of eight.
Blair wonders just how much money the Driscolls are investing in Eleanor’s new shoe line, or if Eleanor has some ulterior motive, sitting them at the most coveted table in the room.
She glances at Chuck and sees his jaw tighten once he notices Andrew’s at their table. She runs the toe of her shoes up and down his calf to calm him, but in an unprecedented move, he shifts just the slightest bit away from her, unnoticeable to everyone else.
Their table is on of the smallest eight-person tables she’s ever sat at. It’s smaller to make conversation easier. Even the centerpieces are low: glass bowls filled with colored water with flowers floating on top, the colors of Eleanor’s new shoe collection, of course.
The waiters appear and start setting salads down in front of everyone.
“Andrew, where will you be attending school?” Cathryn Wakefield asks from her spot on Eleanor’s left.
“I start at St. Jude’s School for Boys tomorrow,” he responds.
“St. Jude’s? That’s where Charles attends, I’m sure you’ll enjoy it there. It’s a very prestigious school,” Eleanor adds.
“I checked into so many different schools for him, but St. Jude’s sounded like the best Mrs. Driscoll says.
“It’s a wonderful school,” Cathryn speaks up. “My nephew, Blaine Spalding graduated form there and now he’s at Harvard studying biomedical engineering.”
“Really? A cousin of mine is there for pre-law right now. And of course, that’s Scott’s alma mater,” Mrs. Driscoll gushes as she rests her hand on her husband’s shoulder. “Blair, where do you plan on attending college?”
"Yale,” Blair replies with a sweet smile.
“Ah, another fantastic school,” Mrs. Driscoll replies.
The waiters come at that moment and take away their empty plates and replace them with their model-sized portioned entrées that cost as much as a new pair of Jimmy Choos.
“And Charles, where do you plan on going?” Mrs. Driscoll inquires politely.
“I plan on doing absolutely no-” he stops mid-sentence when he feels Blair’s pointy shoes kicking him in the leg. “I plan on keeping my options open for now. Maybe Brown, Yale…I haven’t decided yet.”
“Of course not, you have plenty of time to figure it all out,” Mrs. Driscoll reassures him, even though he doesn’t need any reassurances from her.
Everyone at the table knows they should inquire about Andrew’s post-high school ambitions and Eleanor tries to discreetly catch either Blair or Chuck’s eye, but neither of them even glance in her direction.
“So, Andrew, what do you plan on doing after high school?” Eleanor asks him herself.
“I plan on going to Harvard, of course, and becoming a doctor,” he replies.
Blair almost breaks out into giggles. A doctor? UES children become stock investors, business owners, housewives, charity organizers, anything that doesn’t require too much effort. Being a doctor requires too much effort and dedication, no true UES would even consider it as a career.
“Oh, that’s lovely,” Cathryn says quickly. “There are so few good doctors anymore.”
Chuck feels Blair’s foot traveling slowly up his leg. They’re barely halfway through dinner and he can’t wait to get her out of there already.
Blair’s now de-shoed foot plays with his leg and Chuck lets himself fantasize about all the things he’s going to do to her when this is over.
He slips his left hand onto his lab, then onto Blair’s knee without making it obvious. He traces designs on her thigh while he eats with his right hand and Blair forces herself to keep eating so no one notices something’s going on between them. This continues for a minute and then her right leg wraps around his left and as best as she can manage, moves it up and down.
As the wait staff appears to take away their empty plates and replace them with desert, Blair and Chuck’s hands magically appear again.
Chuck tries to listen to the conversation again, but they’re talking about Eleanor’s line and is glad because then he really doesn’t have to pay attention because they won’t include him in the conversation anyways.
And as the waiters disappear, Chuck loses any attempt to try and follow the conversation because Blair’s hand has disappeared from the
table and is dangerously close to his crotch. As he takes a bite of his chocolate mousse, his left hand hitches her dress up and slips into her panties. She grabs his hardened cock through his pants as he plays with her clitoris under the table, their company too engrossed in their conversation to notice.
As he moves his fingers, he notices she bites down on her spoon discreetly to keep from making any noise. She rubs her hand over his pants, his cock getting harder with each stroke and isn’t sure how much more of this dinner he can take.
“Blair?” Eleanor’s voice cuts through and they both freeze.
“Yes?” Blair asks, knowing she missed something.
“Cathryn was just asking how your charity event is going for the flood victims,” Eleanor replies with a smile that says she’s embarrassed by having to repeat a question to her daughter like she’s a seven-year-old.
“Oh, it’s going quite well. We’ve decided it is going to be held in this gallery that’s currently displaying pictures of the damage form the flood,” Blair says smoothly as she and Chuck both remove their hands from each other.
“That’s a fantastic idea,” Cathryn smiles at her.
“Thank you.”
“Are you feeling alright, Blair? You don’t look too good,” Eleanor comments and looks to her for an explanation.
“Don’t I?” Blair asks innocently. “I’m sorry, I’m just worried about this test we have tomorrow,” she lies. “I’ve been so busy planning for the flood charity that I haven’t had much time to study.”
“Well, why don’t you go study dear?” Eleanor suggests. “Yale accepts only the best.”
Blair refuses, “Oh no mother, I couldn’t leave your dinner.”
“Tests are important, Blair. I’m more than capable of hosting my own party for the rest of the night,” Eleanor chuckles and the rest of the table joins in.
“Okay, if you’re sure,” Blair “gives in” as she stands up.
“Of course,” Eleanor replies. “Charles, do you have the same class?”
“I’m afraid I do,” Chuck tells her.
“Then you’d best go study too. I don’t want to be the ruin of your college career either,” Eleanor jokes and the table laughs again.
“Thank you,” Chuck says as he rises.
“What class is this test for?” Mrs. Driscoll asks them before they can leave.
“Chemistry,” Chuck replies and they walk out of the dinner party together.
As soon as they’re alone in his suite, Blair asks, “Chemistry?”
Chuck smirks, “They wanted to know.” His lips crash onto hers as Eleanor’s party goes on without them.
So I'm really kind of enjoying this whole B&C etiquette thing. Obviously lol. I think I'll continue, and they'll probably get a little bit dirtier. Any places/ettiquette you'd like to see Blair and Chuck tackle? (Maybe shopping or something....?) I'm totally up for suggestions.
But how did you like this one?
And yeah, my header is my writing, I usually handwrite everything before I type it up.
Feel free to friend the community for updates if you'd like to. I'm pretty nice and I don't bite =)
previous│ next