099. you say the present's just a pleasant interruption to the past
Title | you say the present's just a pleasant interruption the past
Chapter | 1/1
Rating | r
Characters | Nate. Nate/Serena.
Summary | Post-4x04. What did you expect?
He knows that this isn't what she meant when she said she was always there for him, but with her mouth on him and his hands tangled up in her hair, he can't quite bring himself to care.
Afterward, he kisses her, more out of obligation than any other emotion, and he tastes regret on her tongue.
There is an angry phone call:
You don't get to do this again, making me into the other woman. I'm not going to be that girl again, Nate, I -
A pause, a sniffle, a hint of heartbreak.
We shouldn't have messed up like that. It was a mistake.
Juliet visits her brother and Nate sits at home with a glass of scotch, lazily scrolling through Gossip Girl posts.
She's not with Dan - Vanessa is - but he doesn't feel the satisfaction he expected to feel at that revelation.
Instead, he just feels kind of lonely. He'd slept with Serena, more than once, on the couch he's sitting on right now, and without meaning to he thinks about the way he would kiss her, slow and building, swallowing her moans and gasps.
The other night, it hadn't been like that. It'd been rough and dirty and unlike her, unlike them.
Without meaning to, he worries a little.
You can't do that, Blair says, like she's allowed to give him orders. You can't flaunt Juliet in Serena's face.
She broke up with me. He thinks it, maybe he says it.
Either way, the burning look Blair gives him makes it clear what she thinks of that excuse.
He buys her coffee on a Thursday afternoon. She looks pretty in a charmingly simple way, wearing a pale pink dress he suspects she borrowed from Blair's closet. He tells her so when they meet at the coffee shop - says, you look nice - and she recoils as though he's slapped her.
Her latte is full of sugar, the way she likes it, but she makes a face when she takes her very first sip.
Nate carries most of the conversation. It is awkward and quiet and stilted even though it has never been like that before. After Blair, after Dan, after Tripp - they were always boisterous and they always touched too much. Now, Serena keeps her feet tucked under her chair.
You're mad at me. Her voice sounds like it's coming from far away. I don't know why you wanted to do this.
He's frustrated, eyes narrowed at her across the small table. Because it's been weird lately. And it sucks.
What did you expect?
The next time he sees her is, irony of ironies, at a masque ball.
In a closet, he tears at her dress until it rips and her nails dig sharply into his back and his shoulders, but he breathes love you, baby against her neck when he comes, buried inside of her - history rewritten at last.
Gossip Girl publishes pictures of a girl she insists on calling a fallen queen, wrapped up in Nate's coat with mascara smudged on her cheeks, exiting via the back door of the venue.
Chuck gives him a look over breakfast.
He writes her an e-mail on the day that Juliet breaks up with him (you're different, Nate).
It says i miss you and it bounces back, returning to his inbox with an automated apology about being unable to find her address.
He doesn't send it again.
She calls at two o'clock in the morning, very possibly drunk.
I heard about Juliet.
Yeah?
Yeah.
Silence lingers and he listens to her breathe.
A sleepy, sweet sigh finds its way to his ears.
I came back for you, you know, she whispers.
Once, he sees her sitting on the steps of a building he has class in. He jogs over and kicks his foot out, threatening to spill her cup of coffee but never actually making contact with her thermos.
She glances up at him, through her eyelashes, and he thinks maybe he sees her bite back a smile.
Blair throws a benefit and drinks too much champagne. She hooks her arms through each of theirs - Nate's and Serena's - and chatters on happily while they make an effort to speak only to her and not to one another.
And then she rolls her eyes as if they're a supreme inconvenience in her life.
S, she says, just barely slurred, this is Nate. He's been in love with you since he was dating me. Which was actually a really long time ago.
Then, Nate, this is Serena. You're breaking her heart everyday.
Startled, amused, their gazes clash - sending up sparks that glitter with truth.
She buys him coffee. Literally buys him coffee, as in she hip-checks him out of the way at the counter and hands over her money before dragging him out of the coffee shop without waiting for change.
They drink from their cups outside, sitting in the grass, both wearing shorts because it's a particularly hot day in October, and once or twice their bare knees touch.
I just never thought we'd end, you know? She tips her head back to look at the sky and Nate studies her profile, looks at the elegant line of her neck. She's still the prettiest girl he's ever seen. Sometimes I thought we'd never really begin, but I never thought we'd be over.
He takes a deep breath, swallows down the poignancy of her words. What would you do if I kissed you right now?
Serena doesn't answer him.
(He doesn't kiss her.)
He gets sick when winter settles in over the city and Serena comes over, crawls into his bed and curls up against his side. He cuddles into her; her skin is so much cooler than his.
She whispers to him, right next to his ear, as he drifts in and out of sleep.
I know I hurt you. I'm sorry. We're just - we're hard, you know? We should be so easy.
He wraps her up tight in his arms and when he wakes, late the next morning, she's sniffling and coughing just like he is, but she's there.
They buy each other coffee, two different kinds of cappuccinos, and they trade cups back and forth. There are snowflakes caught in her hair, in her eyelashes, and she throws snowballs at him in Central Park.
Nate laughs through a mouthful of snow, his mitten against her cheek, smoothing hair off of her icy skin. It's not like I stopped loving you or anything.
Second term, they take one of same classes.
And it's really nice, to know what times he'll see her on three days every week. She sits next to him, hair pulled up off her neck, chewing on the end of her pen, propping her feet up on the back of the chair in front of her. He can smell her shampoo and feel the heat radiating from her body.
When he gets bored he starts to bother her, quiet words by her ear, Remember when you said you'd be here for me, always?
She nods distractedly and he skims a hand over her thigh, moves it up higher and higher.
I wanna cash in on that promise.
Serena scowls at him, blue eyes sparkling, and he keeps whispering in her ear, enjoying the way a blush creeps over her skin.
It's not just sex, you know. She seems cranky, grabbing her skirt from where it was discarded on his kitchen floor and stepping back into it. When she yanks the zipper up it catches on her skin, tiny marks that redden but don't bleed.
He blinks, surprised, and rubs her back lightly. I know.
Serena looks near tears. Why is it so hard to figure us out?
This conversation feels too serious and he wants out of it. I don't…I don't know. But we're…we're okay right now.
We're pretending to be okay. We pretend all the time, ever since we were younger.
He shakes his head. No, we don't. We just…we're the way we always are.
She looks shaky all of a sudden, like she did when he gave her that ultimatum - in or out, all or nothing. I don't know if almost is good enough anymore.
Nate buys her coffee and they go for a walk and he tells her bad ghost stories. She laughs til she cries.
Her dad comes back. Nate hears from Chuck. And Blair. And Lily. And Dan, at which point he takes the hint and goes to see her.
She's in bed in her room at Blair's and he gets right in with her, cuddles her close and tight. She's quiet, face pressed into his shirt, breathing softly.
I know I'm probably the last person you want to see right now.
For a long time she stays quiet, and then she says, I didn't ask you to come.
It's not the response he expected so he takes a moment to think about it. Why?
She doesn't answer and he realizes that he's supposed to know, that he does know. He kisses her very gently but she deepens it right away, her mouth opening against his.
It's not almost, he tells her, mouth moving against hers, words muffled by her lips. It's always.
fin
Chapter | 1/1
Rating | r
Characters | Nate. Nate/Serena.
Summary | Post-4x04. What did you expect?
He knows that this isn't what she meant when she said she was always there for him, but with her mouth on him and his hands tangled up in her hair, he can't quite bring himself to care.
Afterward, he kisses her, more out of obligation than any other emotion, and he tastes regret on her tongue.
There is an angry phone call:
You don't get to do this again, making me into the other woman. I'm not going to be that girl again, Nate, I -
A pause, a sniffle, a hint of heartbreak.
We shouldn't have messed up like that. It was a mistake.
Juliet visits her brother and Nate sits at home with a glass of scotch, lazily scrolling through Gossip Girl posts.
She's not with Dan - Vanessa is - but he doesn't feel the satisfaction he expected to feel at that revelation.
Instead, he just feels kind of lonely. He'd slept with Serena, more than once, on the couch he's sitting on right now, and without meaning to he thinks about the way he would kiss her, slow and building, swallowing her moans and gasps.
The other night, it hadn't been like that. It'd been rough and dirty and unlike her, unlike them.
Without meaning to, he worries a little.
You can't do that, Blair says, like she's allowed to give him orders. You can't flaunt Juliet in Serena's face.
She broke up with me. He thinks it, maybe he says it.
Either way, the burning look Blair gives him makes it clear what she thinks of that excuse.
He buys her coffee on a Thursday afternoon. She looks pretty in a charmingly simple way, wearing a pale pink dress he suspects she borrowed from Blair's closet. He tells her so when they meet at the coffee shop - says, you look nice - and she recoils as though he's slapped her.
Her latte is full of sugar, the way she likes it, but she makes a face when she takes her very first sip.
Nate carries most of the conversation. It is awkward and quiet and stilted even though it has never been like that before. After Blair, after Dan, after Tripp - they were always boisterous and they always touched too much. Now, Serena keeps her feet tucked under her chair.
You're mad at me. Her voice sounds like it's coming from far away. I don't know why you wanted to do this.
He's frustrated, eyes narrowed at her across the small table. Because it's been weird lately. And it sucks.
What did you expect?
The next time he sees her is, irony of ironies, at a masque ball.
In a closet, he tears at her dress until it rips and her nails dig sharply into his back and his shoulders, but he breathes love you, baby against her neck when he comes, buried inside of her - history rewritten at last.
Gossip Girl publishes pictures of a girl she insists on calling a fallen queen, wrapped up in Nate's coat with mascara smudged on her cheeks, exiting via the back door of the venue.
Chuck gives him a look over breakfast.
He writes her an e-mail on the day that Juliet breaks up with him (you're different, Nate).
It says i miss you and it bounces back, returning to his inbox with an automated apology about being unable to find her address.
He doesn't send it again.
She calls at two o'clock in the morning, very possibly drunk.
I heard about Juliet.
Yeah?
Yeah.
Silence lingers and he listens to her breathe.
A sleepy, sweet sigh finds its way to his ears.
I came back for you, you know, she whispers.
Once, he sees her sitting on the steps of a building he has class in. He jogs over and kicks his foot out, threatening to spill her cup of coffee but never actually making contact with her thermos.
She glances up at him, through her eyelashes, and he thinks maybe he sees her bite back a smile.
Blair throws a benefit and drinks too much champagne. She hooks her arms through each of theirs - Nate's and Serena's - and chatters on happily while they make an effort to speak only to her and not to one another.
And then she rolls her eyes as if they're a supreme inconvenience in her life.
S, she says, just barely slurred, this is Nate. He's been in love with you since he was dating me. Which was actually a really long time ago.
Then, Nate, this is Serena. You're breaking her heart everyday.
Startled, amused, their gazes clash - sending up sparks that glitter with truth.
She buys him coffee. Literally buys him coffee, as in she hip-checks him out of the way at the counter and hands over her money before dragging him out of the coffee shop without waiting for change.
They drink from their cups outside, sitting in the grass, both wearing shorts because it's a particularly hot day in October, and once or twice their bare knees touch.
I just never thought we'd end, you know? She tips her head back to look at the sky and Nate studies her profile, looks at the elegant line of her neck. She's still the prettiest girl he's ever seen. Sometimes I thought we'd never really begin, but I never thought we'd be over.
He takes a deep breath, swallows down the poignancy of her words. What would you do if I kissed you right now?
Serena doesn't answer him.
(He doesn't kiss her.)
He gets sick when winter settles in over the city and Serena comes over, crawls into his bed and curls up against his side. He cuddles into her; her skin is so much cooler than his.
She whispers to him, right next to his ear, as he drifts in and out of sleep.
I know I hurt you. I'm sorry. We're just - we're hard, you know? We should be so easy.
He wraps her up tight in his arms and when he wakes, late the next morning, she's sniffling and coughing just like he is, but she's there.
They buy each other coffee, two different kinds of cappuccinos, and they trade cups back and forth. There are snowflakes caught in her hair, in her eyelashes, and she throws snowballs at him in Central Park.
Nate laughs through a mouthful of snow, his mitten against her cheek, smoothing hair off of her icy skin. It's not like I stopped loving you or anything.
Second term, they take one of same classes.
And it's really nice, to know what times he'll see her on three days every week. She sits next to him, hair pulled up off her neck, chewing on the end of her pen, propping her feet up on the back of the chair in front of her. He can smell her shampoo and feel the heat radiating from her body.
When he gets bored he starts to bother her, quiet words by her ear, Remember when you said you'd be here for me, always?
She nods distractedly and he skims a hand over her thigh, moves it up higher and higher.
I wanna cash in on that promise.
Serena scowls at him, blue eyes sparkling, and he keeps whispering in her ear, enjoying the way a blush creeps over her skin.
It's not just sex, you know. She seems cranky, grabbing her skirt from where it was discarded on his kitchen floor and stepping back into it. When she yanks the zipper up it catches on her skin, tiny marks that redden but don't bleed.
He blinks, surprised, and rubs her back lightly. I know.
Serena looks near tears. Why is it so hard to figure us out?
This conversation feels too serious and he wants out of it. I don't…I don't know. But we're…we're okay right now.
We're pretending to be okay. We pretend all the time, ever since we were younger.
He shakes his head. No, we don't. We just…we're the way we always are.
She looks shaky all of a sudden, like she did when he gave her that ultimatum - in or out, all or nothing. I don't know if almost is good enough anymore.
Nate buys her coffee and they go for a walk and he tells her bad ghost stories. She laughs til she cries.
Her dad comes back. Nate hears from Chuck. And Blair. And Lily. And Dan, at which point he takes the hint and goes to see her.
She's in bed in her room at Blair's and he gets right in with her, cuddles her close and tight. She's quiet, face pressed into his shirt, breathing softly.
I know I'm probably the last person you want to see right now.
For a long time she stays quiet, and then she says, I didn't ask you to come.
It's not the response he expected so he takes a moment to think about it. Why?
She doesn't answer and he realizes that he's supposed to know, that he does know. He kisses her very gently but she deepens it right away, her mouth opening against his.
It's not almost, he tells her, mouth moving against hers, words muffled by her lips. It's always.
fin