A/N: I was working on this instead of finishing the "Nightmare During Christmas" fic, because I am extremely irritated by the constant lack of Chuck and Nate in Season 2. This is set before Season 1 and leads up to "Roman Holiday". Three 500-words-scenes about betrayal and friendship. I know, I know: OMFG!

Rated T for profanity.

Title inspired by the immortal words of Chuck Bass: "I care about three things, Nathaniel: Money, the pleasures money brings me, and you."

Disclaimer: I don't own them. If I did, Nate would never have apologized to Dan.

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When he comes home after the Shepherd wedding, Nate is slumped against the door and doesn't even raise his head. Chuck wants to make a comment about best friend and the boyfriend, but Nate is drunk and Vera and Tess are giggling and pet Nate's head and Chuck sighs and sends them inside to get ready. Whatever that means.

Nate still hasn't looked up and Chuck contemplates asking him about the missing shirt (Serena) and the hickeys (Serena, of course) like the attentive best friend he is, but then Nate's pocket starts playing Gnarls Barkley's "Crazy" and he doesn't react, so Chuck answers the phone. It's Anne Archibald and the situation could become utterly hilarious, because Chuck is pretty sure she won't even listen to what he says, she just wants someone to answer and spare her any kind of worry lines. ("Yep, Nathaniel is here, he just lost his virginity by fucking his girlfriend's best friend. He's going to stay cause he's really wasted and most probably high." – "Thank you Charles, remind him we have an important family dinner tomorrow evening.")

But he just smiles and says It's Chuck and No problem and Have a good night. When he looks at the phone screen, it says "11 missed calls" and they're all from Blair. Chuck looks at Blair's damned Prince Charming and then he kicks Nate's 1,500 Dollar shoes and calls him a fucking idiot. Either way, Nate is not going to remember anything that happened after Serena, because it looks like there's only been Vodka and pot and more Vodka.

"Nathaniel, what is wrong?" It's easier to ask if you already know the answer.

Slowly, the blond shakes his head and slurs something about Nothing and Leave me alone.

"Yeah, not happening." Chuck manages to help Nate struggle to his feet and somehow they make it inside and to the couch.

Vera and Tess are naked and stare at them.

"One minute, ladies." Chuck takes off Nate's shoes and gets some water before he leaves him lying on his sofa in the fetal position.

He's not quite sure what to think of Nate and Serena and Blair and Serena and Nate and Blair (it's wicked and awesome and it would bring down the house) but Serena has walked away without saying a word after clinging to Nate as if she was drowning, and Blair has no fucking idea, and when Nate staggers to the bathroom and vomits for twenty minutes and explains that he is not crying and still won't tell what's wrong, Chuck knows it's going to destroy all three of them. He decides he'll never say anything to anyone about it until they decide to go all Shakespearian final act catastrophe on each other and tell the truth.

And then Serena is gone and Nate gets drunk and high all the time and Blair looks at her prince with closed eyes and pretends not to notice anything.

Chuck keeps his mouth shut and watches them wither.

He has slept with Blair Waldorf.

Chuck tries to grin, but he can only feel his heart in his throat and her fingers in his hair and he closes his eyes and drifts away.

His cell phone rings somewhere near the couch and Chuck flips it off, puts a pillow over his head and turns around. The world can wait.

It doesn't stop, so he gets up and looks at the screen. It's Nate, but Chuck has just fucked Blair and he really can't do this (his shirt smells like Blair, her lipstick is on his lips and he can still see her dark eyes), because, shit, this can only be about the breakup.

But then he answers anyway and starts talking immediately ("Not now, Nathaniel, talk to you tomorrow.") and wants to hang up, except – except Nate says "Chuck, please…", and he sounds as if he's been shot.

So Chuck decides bro before hoe and falls down on his bed before he realizes that maybe, Blair is anything but a hoe to him.

Nate's breath is a little ragged and his voice is barely audible, so Chuck doesn't say a word, he just waits and rolls his eyes and thinks about Cancan dancers. But then Nate doesn't talk about Blair or Vanderbilt rings: He says: "My dad got arrested" and Chuck sits up with a start and puts him on speakerphone.

"He was high on coke, so we went outside and we… got into a fight… He… punched me. In the face." All the time, Nate seems to be apologizing for something, and Chuck decides to kill Howard Archibald, but he still doesn't say anything.

"So, um, these cops walked up to us and I… basically, I sold him out to them… because of the coke. I really didn't mean to, Chuck. He's facing … I don't even know, man." Nate sighs. "Apparently, he's been charged with embezzlement and fraud and we can't even pay the bail…" Chuck opens his mouth, because he knows what's coming and he doesn't want to hear it, but Nate has already said it: "… and it's my fault. I… Shit... Sorry about not coming to Victrola, man."

Chuck manages to say: "It's alright", while his head is spinning and all he can think of is the backseat of the limo and Nate's broken voice and how this night of all nights is probably going to be the end of them, but he can't stop and Nate can never know.

Functioning somehow, he can hear himself ask: "How are you?", which is the last thing he wants to know. Nate doesn't answer and Chuck tries a small: "Nathaniel…" and Nate sighs and says "Fucked up."

He talks about his head hurting and a few Million Dollars and a bribed doorman before he hangs up, but he never mentions Blair, so Chuck listens and wonders if Nate already senses something else has happened and is just ignoring the feeling so he won't crash and burn.

Geography has never been one of his strongest subjects, and right now Chuck Bass deeply regrets that: Monaco is neither warm nor sunny. It's gray and cold and densely packed with Million Dollar Penthouses. And it's Christmas. Chuck hates it.

He randomly texts Blair (to annoy her, to court her) and stares out of the window into clouds. He can't believe he called the yacht crew to prepare for his arrival: There's no way in hell he'll brave the sea under these circumstances.

His notebook displays all the possible locations with Bass hotels and beaches, and just when Chuck considers Melbourne, his phone rings.

Not even bothering to check the Caller ID, he answers. "Huh?"

"Heeey, man, it's me."

Nate sounds cheerful, as in "Get me drunk while I don't object"-cheerful. It's the holidays.

"How are the fucking Vanderbilts?" Chuck thinks of the few times he has had the honor of meeting Anne's family. They're aristocracy, old money, heirloom and all, and they've made it clear that "I'm Chuck Bass" is the last thing to impress them.

"I wouldn't know. I'm in fucking Monte Carlo…"

Chuck opens his mouth and laughs.

"… walking down some shitty marble corridor…"

He's laughing and he doesn't think he'll ever stop.

"… and now I'm right outside your fucking suite." The line is dead and Nate is knocking on his door in Monte Carlo on Christmas, and Chuck doesn't care about BlairandNate and Victrola and the limo and cotillion. He opens the door and Nate is standing there, tired and grinning. "You were lying about the weather, though. It's fucking awful."

Chuck can't help but think that this is how things are supposed to be: Nate's immoderate profanity after spending time only surrounded by his goddamn family, Chuck's sudden neglect of any plans he has made (screw the weather, they'll survive) and, eventually, both of them slumping on the sofa and drinking Sazeracs.

Not once does he ask why Nate came, but when they're sitting at the hotel bar, Nate mentions tense dinners and his perfect cousins and then he orders Jack Daniel's "straight up".

Late at night, when he is really, really drunk and they're lying on Chuck's king-sized bed smoking pot, Chuck tells Nate about all the times he wanted to call Bart just to tell him Merry Christmas. Nate nods and doesn't reply that Bart could have called to check on him, too. Chuck is thankful and Nate is humming Have Yourself A Merry Little Christmas and Chuck thinks he can hear him actually sing the line about the troubles. He scoffs and calls Nate a "poor, rich kid" and Nate skips the "make the yuletide gay" part because Chuck would never let him hear the end of it.

The next day, they take a photo in front of the sunny seaside poster on the wall of the indoor swimming pool. Then Nate convinces him to board the yacht and Chuck sends the picture to Blair, because it's all he has.