Author's note: Major spoilers for 2x19 (I believe). If you haven't seen the pictures and don't want to be spoiled, don't read.

So obviously I can't stop writing GG fic o.O This was prompted by a prompt at gossipgirlanon on livejournal: "Blair/Chuck- right after the infamous snowkiss with Nate. Chuck reminds Blair who does it better."

LIVING A LIE

Nothing. Blair felt his lips, pillowy and familiar, against her own and felt nothing but a cool sense of comfort in knowing these lips like the back of her hand. In fact, those lips were probably the only thing she could claim to recognising as Nate with her eyes closed. Everything else was vague, undefined, though no less alien to her. She'd accepted Nate's clam-like personality long ago, and knew that very well about him. But he was still essentially a stranger to her. A stranger who happened to be one of her closest friends since childhood.

Snow fell about her; Blair felt the soft flakes rest in her hair as Nate pulled away. He gazed at her, frowning before flicking a stray snowflake off her cheek. "Are you sure?"

Down to the marrow. Even so, Blair merely nodded, unable to work her throat.

"What about –" he started gently.

Chuck. "I can't," she whispered shortly. "Not anymore."

Nate's arms were around her before she knew it, and from the shelter of his embrace she let her appearances crumble one by one to the soothing sway of the wind around them.

"I need you," she finally managed through her tears.

Nate pulled away, and something shattered and lonely darkened his eyes as he looked off in the distance, toward another social world not his own that he would probably never fully integrate. Money worked one way in his world: up.

#

Blair hugged herself as she slowly made her way back into civilisation. The winds had picked up, the sun was setting over the city, and the snow would likely accumulate considerably over the night. She was careful not to step into the thicker patches of snow or to slip on the concealed strips of ice here and there. Momentarily she even wondered idly why she'd settled on heeled boots rather than safer flat-soled ones. Where was her head lately?

Like she needed to answer that one… Hastily Blair moved away from that thought and the person associated with it as she stepped onto the trustier New York City sidewalk. Unfortunately she also rammed into someone else, so deep in her non-thoughts as she was.

"What the hell do you think you're doing?" was instantly hissed in her ear as she was jerked sideways and right into that someone's face.

Okay, someone up there truly had it in for her.

"Let me go, Bass," Blair demanded quite calmly. Bitchiness? Check. Haughty glare? Check. Steady voice? Not so. Crap.

Ignoring her, Chuck only tightened his hold on her wrist, nostrils flaring as he met her glare unflinchingly. A handful of snowflakes had snagged on the coarse material of his fine pressed wool coat, attesting to the face that he'd been out for quite some time. In his eyes she saw the barely restrained fury. The hand around her wrist shook with tension. "Walk," he commanded, giving her a little push.

There was nothing to do but to comply. "I'm not your puppet, Chuck," Blair growled as she reluctantly made her way exactly where she'd previously been headed. Only, now, home didn't sound so great if Chuck was involved. Nevertheless, he directed her there relentlessly.

Uselessly, she tried twisting free. Every time, he only clamped down harder on her wrist like a vise. "You're hurting me, you know," she finally gritted between her teeth when the pain got unbearable.

Snorting, he released her enough that she could feel her hand again. "You have no idea what pain is, Waldorf," he sneered, "so drop the act."

Blair sighed. "What do you want, Bass?" she asked as they finally – finally? – neared her building.

"A minute or two of your time," he snapped as he amiably enough held the door open for her and nudged her through. Once inside, he smiled at the butler, appearing for all the world like he was escorting her to her penthouse like a true gentleman.

He was entirely too close for comfort and he knew it. A devious smile stretched his lips as he acknowledged the effect he had on her. "I think I need to enlighten you about something," he added as he pressed the button to call the elevator, a bit impatiently it seemed.

"Really," Blair said blandly, examining her nails. Why not humour him? "And what's that, Bass? That you're a cold bastard to the bone? Believe me, I know."

The elevator pinged, the doors slid open, and Chuck pushed a button before trapping her with his body. "No," he growled before taking her lips with his in a kiss that chafed.

Chuck's taste attacked her as surely as a whirlwind, sudden and a full-body experience that left Blair breathless. Nicotine and Scotch burned her tongue. on any other person she might have gagged and pushed away for good. Too strong, too strong, yet she wanted more, couldn't understand but she'd learned not to question her sanity where Chuck was concerned. He defied any earthly logic.

"Call me any name you want," he growled again in her ear, the deep timbre of his voice sending hot shivers of awareness shooting clear down her spine, "but don't you dare lie to me. Or to yourself."

The next ping brought her back to reality. The doors slid open once more. "W – what?" she asked through her clearing haze.

His eyes narrowed dangerously, and Blair sucked in a breath. Chuck Bass was a force to be reckoned with when truly angry. "Fuck you, Blair. Fuck you and your lies." He stood to the side, a cool presence finally releasing her. "Get out," he spat at the floor.

Bewildered by his action, Blair took a bracing breath and brushed past him. She didn't dare make eye contact. He read her too well. She touched him as little as possible, every surge a drug and, no, she didn't want this. Blair commanded her hormones to stop reacting to wildly and out of control to his because, dammit, but they weren't supposed to. Not to mention she was done, done, done loving him. obviously they'd been a train wreck happening since the beginning and she should have known there was just no way they could work out without royally fucking things up. And indeed, here they were.

Congratulations, Chuck. You were right, Blair thought dryly.

The elevator pinged its departure behind her but was suddenly blocked as Chuck walked purposefully past the closing doors. "I wasn't done."

Oh, shit.

#

Blair collected enough of her composure to muster a glare worthy of her name. "I was," she said before striding resolutely to the grand staircase leading to the higher rooms. Knowing Chuck, he probably hadn't taken the hint at face value. She inwardly groaned when she heard his footsteps behind her. "At the risk of repeating myself," she began again, definitely unwilling to face him again, "I'm done with you."

"Really," he replied drolly, unimpressed. "Didn't seem that way in the elevator. Oh, I'm sure you can cook up a perfectly logical explanation but I still wouldn't believe you."

Argh! Whirling on the upper landing, Blair shoved hard at his chest, enough to make him stumble over the steps. "Take a hint, Chuck!"

Righting himself, Chuck pegged her with an equally murderous glare. "You take one, Blair!"

"Make me!"

"Gladly!" And with that he stepped in, shoved his hands in her hair, and kissed her again.

"Stop, stop," Blair whimpered as Chuck pressed her against her own bedroom door. Too much, too much.

"Lie," he hissed. "You want me."

Blair shook her head vehemently. "No…" But as he peppered kisses and licked up her collarbone, Blair's back arched off the door. Betrayed by her own body.

"You want me," he repeated, deep voice gone low. Glancing at him, Blair saw more than naked need in his eyes… something else that floored her, made her lose her breath. "Say it."

"Chuck…"

It must have been enough because he twisted the doorknob next to her. They spilled into her room amid tenderness mixing with fading frustration. Blair's heart thrummed a wild tattoo in her chest, and she was sure he could feel it. She felt his.

"I want you," he rumbled brokenly in her hair. "Damn you."

That was as much of a confession as he'd ever uttered freely. As he turned, the backs of his knees hit her mattress and he sat hard, pulling Blair to straddle him. Sighing, her hands immediately went to his belt as he brushed over her garter with an appreciative nip of her earlobe.

Next thing she knew, he'd snapped her knickers and she felt his hands on her bare cheeks, dipping down… down…

"Chuck," she breathed again, eyes closed.

"You want me," he breathed back.

Not a question. Yet… Yes, she thought as she sank onto him. Perfection. It wasn't a word she'd use to describe Chuck, but in these times he was, utterly and completely. Wrapping her legs around him, she barely felt the material of her dress bunching up, up, until it was suddenly gone; barely felt her fingers working the buttons of his shirt, eager to get at the warm expanse of skin underneath.

Nearly bare, they moved as one, slowly, breaths hitching together. Perfection, Blair thought again.

"You'll never have this with Nate," Chuck whispered huskily in her ear as he stroked a finger down Blair's spine, making her moan deliciously and arch into him. his other hand snaked up as an afterthough to circle her nipple, and then he drew it into his mouth to suckle, enjoying the quality of her moan as she suddenly began throbbing around him.

Chuck quickly flipped her onto the bed, and drew out her orgasm as he thrust into her, searching for his own release. He watched Blair's expressive face as he did, imprinting her glowing, gloriously flushed features into his mind before capturing her lips and gasping when she sank her nails into his back.

Tensing, pain warring so sweetly with pleasure, he braced for the mindless ride ahead to the feel of Blair surrounding him so perfectly.

#

Blair spoke up, breaking the silence that had reigned thickly since they'd separated. "You need to leave," she said hoarsely, quietly.

Chuck took a slow breath – he'd known the moment would come – then stood and quietly gathered his things. In the mirror's reflection he saw that Blair had curled in on herself toward the window.

Pausing after he'd haphazardly thrown on his clothes, Chuck cleared his throat painfully. "You're living a lie, Blair."

Leave he did.