Love You Some Day

Into The Darkness

Chapter Five:

Into The Darkness

After that night, Blair buried herself in work; it was the best and only distraction she knew. She felt so silly after that night with Chuck; she did not want to think about it. Where had such an idea even come from? Chuck Bass loving Blair Waldorf?

She approached her locker at the end of the day; she had made it through Thursday. Pulling it open, a black envelope fell forward, fluttering to the ground. She was surprised, and for the flash of a moment she wanted to stomp on it- there was only one person who left her notes. But Chuck's pull was undeniable and she was learning that, at least with the little things, it was useless to torment her curiosity.

Sighing, she lifted the envelope and pulled it open. A black linen card, no 'CB' at the top, just silver metallic letters gleaming off the page:

To Thine Own Self Be True

Friday 11PM

Blair tucked the note into her bag; it was one of Chuck's parties, she just knew it. She wondered what would come to pass from this first skirmish, how she should prepare? She had managed to dodge the topic of Chuck all week with Serena, but perhaps it was time for a consultation.

They were sprawled out on Blair's bed examining fashion magazines. Serena knew something was up. She had all week. "Out with it."

"Out with what?" Blair tried to feign ignorance; it did not work.

"What's going on- we're practically sisters, Blair. You can't hide from me."

She knew Serena was right, and she sighed a little, "I think we're at war."

"You and Chuck? Um, that isn't how that was suppose to work out, B." Serena quipped.

"I know, but… I freaked, and he called me out on it. So, when he said I would cave to my desire to give myself to him, I…" Blair swallowed hard at the memory of what she said to him that night.

Serena found the story enticing, and waited with baited breath to hear what Blair could have possibly threatened Chuck Bass with. "You what?"

"I told him… he would love me, some day." Blair hid her head in the pillows at how silly she sounded. What kind of stupid threat was that?

"And then what?" Serena wondered.

"Then…" Blair sat up and furrowed her brow, "Then he held me tight and kissed me so gently. It was intense… but I don't know what it meant. He left without a word after that. And now, nothing."

"Sounds rather Rolf and Liesl from the Sound of Music to me." Serena pictured Blair in Liesl's pink dress with Chuck playing Rolf the messenger boy and had to stop herself from bursting out with laugher, "You scared him! You scared Chuck Bass!"

"By saying he would fall in love with me? I just wanted to throw him off…"

"He prides himself on being a heartless playboy. You threatened him with having a heart. But you're telling me all of this for a reason aren't you? I mean it's now Thursday."

Blair got up and pulled the notecard from her bag, "I think this is for one of his parties. What do I do?"

"What do you do?" Serena looked incredulously at her best friend, "Have we met? You get sexed up and go, sweetie."

"But, things happen at his parties, S. It's dangerous on so many levels! What if I…"

"You're Blair Waldorf. You're not going to start doing heroin and have crack babies from going to a party to see Chuck Bass. You're not stupid. If this is war, this," She waved the black card in her hand, "is a battle. So let's see what we can pull together?"

Friday night. Nate and Chuck were lounging in the corner of the massive warehouse space where the party would soon be starting. A/V equipment was being set up in the center of the space as the two passed a joint between them. Nate was the first to speak, "I've been hearing things about you and Blair Waldorf. What's that about man?"

Chuck took a long drag, "I had… an interesting encounter with her over the summer. I think there is some overlooked potential there."

Nate was feeling a bit crass from his buzz, "So then you've already done her?"

"Not yet, Archibald. Potential, I want to have some fun with this one."

"I'm not so sure she isn't messing with you. Since when does Chuck Bass actually chase tail? I thought women just opened their legs to you?"

"Oh, they still do. But that gets boring after a time, my friend. I want a good game to entertain me for awhile is all."

"I just can't believe you haven't already done her."

The lights shut off. A projector flickered to life as people began to slowly stream through the door.

At 11PM, Blair exited her penthouse not knowing what to expect next. A limo awaited her, and slipping inside, it was empty. She watched as the city glided by, taking her away from the Upper East Side into a part of town she never would have had reason to visit. Coming to a stop, Blair stepped out and looked down the vacant street and at the unmarked building before her. A gentleman stood next to a door and she approached him. He eyed her and asked, "Password?"

Not missing a beat, Blair coolly responded, "To thine own self be true."

She entered, the door slammed shut, and darkness enveloped her. Her eyes adjusted to the darkness; the only light was from a projector shining from the floor up to the ceiling. The rest of the large space was in near darkness; nearby people and furniture were vague outlines. Someone behind her asked, "Name?"

"Blair Waldorf."

"Good, follow me." A hand took her arm and began to pull her through the darkness. She gazed up at the ceiling, and her ears registered the sound matching the image of Ken Branagh's Hamlet. To thine own self be true.

The sound of Nate's voice became incomprehensible as Chuck watched Blair emerge from the darkness. She wore a tight white dress that only hit mid-thigh, while at the top it reached her collarbone, wrapping down into long sleeves. He watched as she turned to the man to order a gin martini and he licked his lips as he saw the dress had no back, the fabric only reaching around from the front once more to cling to the curves of her hips and the roundness of her ass. He cleared his throat, "Archibald."

Nate grumbled next to him, "I know what that means. Later, Chuck."

For one last jab at his friend, Nate paused in front of Blair, and grasping her hand he kissed it, "Good evening, Blair." He could feel Chuck's eyes boring into him and he chuckled before sauntering off to another dark corner.

"You came."

Her eyes fell on him; Chuck was laid out on an expansive mattress on the floor in a secluded corner of the room. He was wearing a white button down, unbuttoned, that fanned out under him, melting into the white sheet of the bed. His black trousers stood out from all the whiteness.

Blair's martini arrived and she gulped it quickly as Chuck asked if she would not join him? She lowered herself onto the bed, placing a good distance between them as she sank into the softness. The smoke from so many pot smokers made her mind fuzzy as it mixed with the martini she had downed. "So, Hamlet?"

They stared up at the ceiling, "Someone recently turned me on… to Shakespeare."

"Bullshit… at least to the Shakespeare part."

Chuck reached across the great expanse between them, brushing the tips of his fingers against hers. They looked up; watching the film for a time in silence, Chuck drinking his scotch, Blair her martinis. The drugs and alcohol unraveled him as they watched Hamlet go mad, attacking his uncle, his mother, slamming Ophelia into the walls. "That could be me someday, " He felt Blair's fingertips stroke his, "I have everything, yet nothing, and it will destroy me."

Her voice was soft and clear, "No. That is what you've convinced yourself of, but I've already seen more in you. You will have whatever you want, Chuck. Your raw power is commanding, and you can use it however you chose. People cannot ignore Chuck Bass."

He heard the sting in her voice as she spoke the word ignore, and she tried to draw her hand away, but he grabbed it, and held her hand in his. "But they can ignore Blair Waldorf?"

A hoarse laugh escaped her throat, "Like you had even noticed me before the garden party? My own mother doesn't see me; my father left me, left us, for France and another man. My best friend outshines me at every turn. I'm never enough, why can't I be more perfect, why can't I be more like Serena? I feel like the moon to her sun, always striving to shine as brightly…"

Chuck pulled himself up and leaned down to look at her, one hand stroking the hair away from her face, "Why would you want to be her? Because she shines? Don't you see how empty she is inside? But you… I may have missed you before, but I'm watching you now."

Her body was growing warmer with his touch- his words. Wrapped in darkness, clocked in the nearness of him, she felt safe and secure. The sounds around them dropped away and all she could see was the sliver of light reflecting in his dark eyes. Then, he spoke.

"I see you."

His words reached all the way to her core, and she reached up to touch his face, to feel him under her fingertips. That is when he came to her, through the chaos, the darkness, his lips found hers and she came to life once more. Her common sense was dulled and all she sought were his taste and his touch. Her kisses were needy, and one hand was in his hair as the other travelled the planes of his chest, the ripple of his abdomen, the ribbons of muscles in his back. Blair was drowning in him, yet she wanted more, and more. He sees me.

Her mouth was fantastic, and her tiny hands were all over him, exploring every inch of his torso. I want her. I have to have her. What was she thinking coming here- in this dress? He clasped a hand on her breast- no bra; Chuck groaned. Enough. She was playing with fire, and he was going to burn her. Grasping the top of her dress, he pulled it down. She protested as the sleeves pinned her arms down, and she struggled but a moment, wrenching free from the dress, her fingers flying back to him, pushing his shirt from his shoulders.

As they kissed, his hand pressed against the naked skin of her breast making Blair moan into his mouth in response. Her back arched when he rolled her nipple between his fingers and she cried when his mouth parted from hers. Kissing down her neck, her collarbone, in the darkness his mouth found the other nipple. He licked and teased her, his teeth nipped at her and she cried with pleasure. She felt how slick her legs were with her arousal as she writhed beneath him.

He paused, and leaned over her, stroking the length of her exposed stomach, "Tell me what you want, Blair." It was not a question- it was a command.

"Kiss me, Chuck." She breathed.

His lips brushed against hers so softly and Blair pouted. His hand drifted to where her dress abruptly ended and dragged along the skin of her bare thigh. "Tell me what you really want, Blair. Tell me what you need." Tell me you need me.

"Chuck…" She panted, her legs parted at the anticipation of his touch, but his fingers did not seek her heat. They idly caressed her inner thigh and she wanted to scream.

"Blair…" He dipped his head to kiss her neck, nipping at the delicate skin; he breathed his hot breath into her ear, "Tell me."

Blair trembled and acquiesced, "Touch me… I want…"

"What do you want?" He whispered as his hand pressed against the mere inch of fabric between his fingers and her.

"I want your fingers…" Her mind was hazy, but she was still coherent enough to be humiliated by her request.

Chuck pulled his hand away to touch her soft cheeks, "These fingers?"

Blair gave out a desperate cry of frustration.

"Where should I put my fingers, Blair?"

Having taken enough of his torment, she grabbed his hand and placed it squarely between her legs. His hard fingers pressed against the wet heat seeping through her thong.

"My, my, and here, all you had to do…" He pushed the slim fabric aside, and slid a finger into her, "was ask."

Blair let out a cry of pleasure.

She was supremely tight as her muscles fought to hold onto him and she bucked her hips against his hand. He extracted his finger and listened to her cry in protest before he replaced one finger with two. His fingers worked her with long, luxurious strokes. His mouth found her breasts once more, giving her simultaneous pleasure. Her hips rocked with his hand and her fingers were tangled in his hair as she moaned. His cock ached against his trousers, longing to take the place of his fingers.

Chuck moved to kiss her mouth, his fingers moving a little faster to match the insistent rocking of her hips, "Should I let you come, Blair?"

"Please… Chuck…" She begged, her muscles clamping around his fingers in pleading.

His fingers stilled, her body shook, and she mewed in protest.

"You need to learn to ask nicely for things Blair- properly, or else I may just stop asking." He flexed his fingers inside of her and she trembled, "Is that what you want Blair, for me to have my way with you?"

Blair cried, "Fuck me with your fingers. Make me come, please Chuck…" She writhed under him, "make me come…"

His fingers slid back into motion. Deeper, harder, he pushed into her and she pushed back. She was panting and squirming, and Chuck's thumb circled her clit. She cried out, begging for more. Faster now, he slid his thumb against her clit again, and again.

Blair shuddered- harder than she ever had at her own hand, she cried- shouted, in pleasure, Chuck's name piercing the darkness for all to hear. Dazed, she trembled and slowed, gasping when Chuck's fingers left her empty.

He lifted his fingers to his mouth, tasting her. He would taste her properly some day… soon. He purred in her ear, "You taste like honey."

She tugged her dress back up, and then turning into him, she curled up, exhausted and satisfied. Blair nuzzled her head against his chest and wrapped her arm around his bare torso, and she murmured, "You feel like heaven."

Chuck held her, surprised at her closeness after he had defiled her. He chuckled at the potential double entendre. She was either being dirty- that his fingers had felt like heaven, or sweet, and that his body, his embrace, felt like heaven, and he wondered, "You cannot mean that both ways."

But Blair had no answer; she had dozed off in his arms. He rolled his eyes in disbelief. Extracting himself, he slipped his shirt back over his shoulders, and scooped her up in his arms, taking her to a waiting limo. He had hoped perhaps the crisp autumn air would wake her, but she did not stir. He was tempted to send her home and let her doorman deal with her. You feel like heaven. He looked at her peaceful face and sighed.

He carried her up from the limo, to her room, and laid her in her bed, wrapping her in the satin duvet. You will love me… some day. "Not so likely, Waldorf." He snickered; he could not believe she fell asleep. What was she, ten?

As he left her, he pulled out his phone. He still had a raging hard on, and he was going to require some intense professional help after being with Blair.

AN: Chapter title taken from Cayle's story of the same name.

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