FIC: Lonely Nights in the Near Future
Author's note: Sort of, maybe written for this prompt over at gossipgirlanon, but it ran away from me and didn't want to be kinky. So. Here you go, and I can't post it there. And no, I'm not going soft on you guys ;)
She tilts her head, studying a new angle, and leans back fully into his body, barely blinking for fear of missing anything... for their private viewing only.
LONELY NIGHTS IN THE NEAR FUTURE
“We look…”
“Mmhmm.”
She tilts her head, studying a new angle, and leans back fully into his body, barely blinking for fear of missing anything on the screen. She does, though. Hot breath and a tiny nip and she thinks she’s missed a second and argh.
“Behave,” Blair admonishes with a slap.
Chuck’s mouth stretches into a mischievous grin on her skin, she feels it. “What’s the point,” he says sensuously between openmouthed kisses, “when you’re watching us misbehaving?”
He doesn’t get it. Dead weight, locked knees and arms crossed over her chest in an obvious impasse, Blair sulks and fairly growls when he snickers knowingly in her neck and… it takes the willpower of steel not to… tilt her head again and… give easier access.
“Oh, I get it,” he whispers, as though he’s been reading her mind - should she be surprised? “It’s for your cold, lonely nights when I’m in Singapore next week…”
Grr to the astute Bass. Her loins contract almost painfully.
“You’re fucking gorgeous.”
“You’re not even watching,” Blair retorts with chagrin. Chuck Bass, not watching what is essentially porn? Was he sick? Or was she missing something?
Chuck meets her gaze as she glances with some concern over her shoulder - had Dublin altered his brain? “So?” he counters with a raised brow. As if it truly doesn’t matter.
Blair’s mouth very nearly drops. It is all she can do not to press her palm against his forehead to feel for his temperature - not that she even knows what ninety-eight degrees is supposed to feel like.
Twist of lips and Chuck rolls his eyes before picking up the remote from her lap. The image and sound are wiped to show images from a black-and-white movie showing on a vintage channel, before Chuck leans in. “That will have to satisfy me next week in Singapore. Now, are you quite done gaping?” he asks in an almost businesslike manner seconds before flipping her under him. There, his eyes twinkle, and a proper heavenward roll into her head soon replaces Blair’s blinking.
She tilts her head, studying a new angle, and leans back fully into his body, barely blinking for fear of missing anything... for their private viewing only.
LONELY NIGHTS IN THE NEAR FUTURE
“We look…”
“Mmhmm.”
She tilts her head, studying a new angle, and leans back fully into his body, barely blinking for fear of missing anything on the screen. She does, though. Hot breath and a tiny nip and she thinks she’s missed a second and argh.
“Behave,” Blair admonishes with a slap.
Chuck’s mouth stretches into a mischievous grin on her skin, she feels it. “What’s the point,” he says sensuously between openmouthed kisses, “when you’re watching us misbehaving?”
He doesn’t get it. Dead weight, locked knees and arms crossed over her chest in an obvious impasse, Blair sulks and fairly growls when he snickers knowingly in her neck and… it takes the willpower of steel not to… tilt her head again and… give easier access.
“Oh, I get it,” he whispers, as though he’s been reading her mind - should she be surprised? “It’s for your cold, lonely nights when I’m in Singapore next week…”
Grr to the astute Bass. Her loins contract almost painfully.
“You’re fucking gorgeous.”
“You’re not even watching,” Blair retorts with chagrin. Chuck Bass, not watching what is essentially porn? Was he sick? Or was she missing something?
Chuck meets her gaze as she glances with some concern over her shoulder - had Dublin altered his brain? “So?” he counters with a raised brow. As if it truly doesn’t matter.
Blair’s mouth very nearly drops. It is all she can do not to press her palm against his forehead to feel for his temperature - not that she even knows what ninety-eight degrees is supposed to feel like.
Twist of lips and Chuck rolls his eyes before picking up the remote from her lap. The image and sound are wiped to show images from a black-and-white movie showing on a vintage channel, before Chuck leans in. “That will have to satisfy me next week in Singapore. Now, are you quite done gaping?” he asks in an almost businesslike manner seconds before flipping her under him. There, his eyes twinkle, and a proper heavenward roll into her head soon replaces Blair’s blinking.