Fic: The Game of You (Chuck/Dan, NC-17) Part a
They say knowledge is power. They say ignorance is bliss. If you put that together, are “they” trying to say that bliss can be found in powerlessness? Recent experiences seem to tell Dan otherwise. After all, he certainly didn’t feel all that blissful when Chuck had him pressed against the sheets, Chuck’s dick inside him that first time, fucking the control right out of him. Ok, sure, there’d been the physical pleasure that usually came with any mind blowing orgasm but still, that powerlessness; it wasn’t really something Dan would traditionally categorize as bliss. It certainly wasn’t something he wanted to feel ever again, if he could help it.
Dan doesn’t quite remember the exact moment when things had changed for him with Chuck; there was no light bulb clicking on when he figured out how to play the game, some how he just sort of did. Maybe he always knew deep down. It was one of those things about himself that’s best not thought about, and besides, that’s not the point anyway, the point is that it’s a game, one that he got dragged into, kicking and screaming but it’s still a game; one that he’s slowly learning how to play. And like with any game, no matter how much of an upper hand your opponent has. There’s still always a small chance that you could win.
Dan may not be one for gambling but he’s not one for backing down either.
See the point is not that Chuck basically owns him; that his entire future rests in the palm of Chuck’s moisturized hands, because if he looked at things from that angle, Chuck would always come out on top (Oh god! bad pun). No, the point is not that Chuck owns him but how much of him he will let Chuck own. Sure, “none at all”, would be the preferable answer but since that one’s not an option, he’ll work with what he’s got.
The name of the game is Power, and power is an intangible concept.
So maybe it’s him that gets the rug burns from being forced on his knees, him with Chuck’s hands on his head guiding his mouth to his crotch; but it’s also his tongue that makes Chuck moan like it hurts, his mouth that makes Chuck writhe against the wall, legs too weak to hold him up. It’s his hands that hold Chuck’s thighs as he throws his head back and shouts out “Humphrey!” with all the spite and desperation he has in him.
It’s twisted and it’s dirty and it should make him want to curl up and die but it’s still power, and its still victory.
It’s the only kind he can get right now.
***
The things between him and Chuck are unsurprisingly, completely the same at school. They don’t avoid each other, at least not more than they usually do, and when they do run into each other their insults contain the same amount of venom it always had.
Initially of course there were the obligatory dirty remarks and innuendoes, delivered in the slimiest way possible when they were out of ear shot but after the first couple of times they were... together, so to speak, those began to fade away. It was about the same time Dan started to learn the ropes and know the twists and turns of Chuck’s little game.
When he found himself tied up to a statue at Yale in his underwear, his first thought was that Chuck was playing a new and kinky game with him, one that he refused to go along with.
After all, getting him kicked off the premises of an Ivy League college before he even got in kind of defeated the whole purpose of him sleeping with Chuck to stay in school in the first place; but of course it was just a prank, another one of Chuck’s schemes; harmless compared to everything else he’s ever done (the risk of getting a flu from being in the cold, almost naked, aside).
Actually maybe he wasn’t even the center of the scheme, just a side dish in his attempt to get something else, something bigger. Whatever it was, it seemed to bother Nate a lot more than it did him. Of course, that didn’t stop him from leaving a bite mark or two on Chuck’s dick... Like he said, he had some power.
Things had changed for him after that. Nate stopped being Chuck’s best friend and became his. He didn’t ask why, just glad to have someone else to talk to at school, someone to hang out with when Vanessa wasn’t around and just play soccer like any other normal teenage boy who wasn’t having sex for money.
But then Nate had sex for money once too.
It was on the tip of his tongue all the time; he wanted to ask Nate how it was for him, if it was different when it was with a woman, different with someone who wasn’t Chuck Bass or if that feeling was still there, that dark feeling, like he’s been tainted by something and it’s spreading, leaving a mess inside him that he’s not sure he can clean up without leaving a stain... or a scar. Or maybe the mess can’t be cleaned up at all.
Either way he never asked.
The truth was things had become lonely for him now that Serena was out of his life. Serena and all the complications and drama that came with her had turned his life upside down but it also brought colours to his world, bright, pretty colours.
It’s not like his life lacks colour without her in it because Chuck is nothing if not “colourful” but still, it’s not like he and Chuck ever hung out after their activities. Not that he really wants to, he’s had a taste of Chuck’s world already and he’s not sure they’re the kind of colours he wants in his life; enough of those “colours” had invaded his world as it is.
And Vanessa, well she’s his best friend and always will be and they’ll always hang out but still, she has her thing and her world and somehow lately her world isn’t as much a part of his world as it used to be. So yeah, it’s good to have a new friend and Nate, Nate was perfect for the job. He was fun, easy going, they have a lot more in common than he thought they did a year ago when Nate was the usher for Dartmouth and he was pissed at the unfairness of the system.
Nate made him feel like an ordinary guy, not “Lonely Boy” or Chuck’s “Daniel”; not the ‘nobody’ in a school full of ‘somebody’s; just a guy hanging out with another guy. It gave him a sense of freedom he hasn’t felt in a long time.
Somehow he thinks maybe that’s what he’s giving to Nate too.
***
The first time Chuck approached him instead of texting him with orders was right after Nate left him.
He was walking home when he noticed the limo following him. He almost laughed at how conspicuous it looked. He knew it couldn’t be anyone but Chuck Bass so he didn’t wait for the windows to roll down to approach.
The hand that pulled him into the back seat was harsh and he hit the leather seat at a strange and uncomfortable angle. Chuck didn’t wait for him to adjust before shutting the door and attacking him with his mouth. The anger made his eyes seem brighter somehow, sharper; dangerous, yet at the same time strangely vulnerable, like a wounded tiger. Dan thought back to his afternoon with Nate.
Maybe it’d be in his best interest if he lets Chuck win this round, he thought as he relaxed against the seat and let Chuck take control.
***
The dark amber light and the smell of cigarettes and expensive perfume grazed Chuck’s senses and he took it in, as he always does. Bars had become a home to him since before he was thirteen and like any other home, he might sometimes get sick of it, he might sometimes hate it as much as he loved it, he might sometimes even feel suffocated by it, but he always comes back.
It was quieter tonight than most and as he scanned the room he noticed a familiar pair of long legs. It was milky smooth, almost glowing in the dim light and it ended in expensive blood red heels.
“Blair,” he greeted as he sat down next to her. “What brings you here tonight?”
“Nothing much, I just stopped by for a drink.” It was a lie; one Blair wasn’t even trying to cover up as she discreetly moved closer to him; her skin, hot, and her new perfume filling his lungs, almost burning him in just the right way. His queen. It’s been a while since he dueled with her.
“Didn’t you used to say it was unseemly for a lady to drink alone in public?” he asked, ordering himself one.
“Well I’m not alone am I?” she retorted, voice sweet but with a seductively dangerous edge. He knows exactly why she’s here, and she knows that he does too. Neither of them would say it of course, it was all part of their game. Somehow, the prospect of playing it doesn’t excite him the way it used to.
“So, ever since Charlize Theron became the face of Dior, I’ve been wanting to change my signature scent. I can’t decide if I like it. Do you mind?” she says as she bared her neck to him invitingly.
The skin was creamy, just like the rest of her. He pressed his face against her and let himself sink in, letting the smell of her, the feel of her intoxicate him. The memory of her, in his arms, pliant against him, flushed bare skin on his, her moans replaying in his head.
Another image popped up then, of angles instead of curves, subtle muscles underneath paler skin and darker hair. The images mixed in his head, the two of them against him, giving and taking, winning and losing but all of them lost to the burning need.
It was an interesting idea, all three of them together. But it would never work. Even if for some reason Blair agreed to it, she was a queen and a queen demanded worship from all of her subjects. While Chuck always considered himself, her king; her equal, Dan was his pet. He didn’t really like the idea of him serving under anyone else.
Dan was coming over tonight, the thought popped into his head.
Chuck looked up again into Blair’s eyes, taking in her deceptively sweet face. There was longing there, naked and vulnerable but only for a split second. A few months ago he would have jumped at it, strike it, take it. There was a biting remark, right on the tip of his tongue; harsh, cruel words. Another chess move in their elaborate game.
“It’s lovely,” he said instead, and it was surprisingly honest. “I’m sorry but I have other engagements tonight.”
As he left the bar he turned to look at Blair again. Everything inch of her, from the curls of her hair to the tip of her Prada shoes, made up, immaculate. Perfect. Everything but her eyes, eyes that despite everything, still managed to look innocent and lost. The confusion was clear on her face and for a moment, Chuck thought she looked like an abandoned doll. He never thought he could pity a queen before.
He walked away. He was sick of this game.
***
It was after Nate moved in with him that he noticed a shift in Chuck’s behaviour. It wasn’t a big change, nothing outright or obvious; in fact it didn’t even occur to him until around the third or fourth time it happened.
It did occur to him eventually though, as he settled down on the bed, rolling table in front of him filled with food that cost more than a year’s allowance. It was in that moment that it occurred to him that what he and Chuck did together might have now gone beyond fucking and into the territory of actually ‘hanging out’.
He and Chuck were hanging out.
He didn’t really know what to do with that information.
It had started small at first; a strangely conversational string of insults over a glass of wine, a movie between long periods of sex while they recovered, and now this; ordering in room service and having dinner together. It was Chuck who suggested it, well not so much suggested as he did yelling at him after the third time he complained about being late for dinner with his family but still, he could have just thrown him out and let him fend for himself.
Instead he and Dan were sitting opposite each other, Dan on the bed, Chuck on a chair, both in nothing but bathrobes. There was a single red rose in a small vase on the table. Dan thinks maybe in an alternate universe where Dan wasn’t Dan and Chuck wasn’t Chuck, they might have been having a romantic dinner.
“So Humphrey, tell me, does my sister still have to make an effort to ignore you or have you gone back to being completely invisible?”
Dan smiled; he was almost used to this game now.
“Actually Serena and I have put aside our differences. We’re friends now.” The smile turned into a smirk, “what about Blair? Is she still trying to get you to sleep with her or has she realized by now that you’re not worth the effort?”
Usually, Dan would never say something so bitchy, but then as much as sleeping with Chuck has become a common occurrence; it really wasn’t something he’d call “usual” either.
Chuck hesitated for a second too long. Dan thought he went too far but before he could say anything, Chuck regained his composure, letting a devious smile slide onto his face as his foot slid up Dan’s leg under the table.
“I don’t know, seemed worth the effort for you when you were begging for me half an hour ago.”
“I wasn’t the only one who was begging,” Dan replied.
It came out more playful than he intended.
There was a change in Chuck’s smile then; for a second Dan thought it might have turned into a real one. But like a stray snowflake falling into an open flame, it melted away like it was never there.
***
Dan found it rather ironic that Nate, despite being one of the most clueless people he knew, was actually the first to notice that something was up. Or well, someone anyway. He never said anything of course, but then he didn’t really have to, all he had to do was flash him that teasing, knowing smile every time Dan came home late.
The smile would be especially wide if he was wearing a turtle neck, a scarf or if he’d buttoned his shirt up a little too high, which was pretty much almost every day now. He was just thankful that summer was a long way away; he was conspicuous enough as it is with the new scarf he kept wearing. Funny, he’d never liked wearing scarves before because they’d always reminded him of Chuck.
His life was just full of irony that way.
“You know, when it’s not cold outside you could always try covering it with a bit of make up,” Nate said to him one morning, that impish ‘I know your secret’ smile on his face. Dan tried not to blush. It was amazing that he still could, given all the things he’s been doing with Chuck.
“Thanks, I’ll keep that in mind,” was all Dan gave him.
“You know, one of these days you’re going to have to tell me something.” Dan paused for a second and looked into Nate’s crystal blue eyes.
“I know.” He looked away.
Today wasn’t that day.
***
When he got to Chuck that night there was a black box on the bed.
“Feeling creative tonight?” He asks, wondering what kinky toy Chuck has in store for him this time. There was a sharp slap on his ass.
“I’m creative every night Humphrey,” he retorts, voice husky, words long and drawn out like dripping honey or a slithering snake. “If you haven’t learnt that already then maybe you need extra lessons.”
His hands are wandering over his body now and Dan bites back the urge to lean in, to throw his head back onto Chuck’s shoulder and writher against him. It gets harder to stop himself from giving in, every time.
“Open the box,” Chuck orders, body still hot against his.
Dan lifted the lid off the flat box and deftly took out the content.
Chuck is creative, Dan thought, slightly puzzled as he examined the soft material in his hands. A scarf. Navy blue plaid on cashmere; Burberry, and on the bottom in gold were the letters “D.H.”.
“Ok, I give up. What exactly are we doing with this?” Dan asked after a few minutes. The silk cloth, ropes and handcuffs Chuck liked to use for bondage was in the second drawer in a secret compartment inside his closet, and his blindfolds were in the fourth drawer. That’s all the uses Dan could think of so far and he wasn’t sure he wanted to think further.
There was mocking laughter in Chuck’s eyes.
“Tsk tsk tsk. Such a dirty mind, always jumping to that conclusion.” A mockingly sweet kiss on his cheek. “I’m so proud of you.” The scarf was draped around his neck. “It’s a scarf Humphrey. What do you think one does with scarves?” His hands lingered on the nape of Dan’s neck, caressing softly. It felt unsettlingly familiar.
“Well I’ve always had this fantasy about strangling you with one.”
Chuck laughs. “Funny, I had the same one about strangling you,” he says, then his lips touches Dan’s ear, “of course in my fantasy, you were coming while I did it.” Despite himself, Dan shivers.
He wasn’t sure if Chuck was serious or just provoking him, but now that he reacted to it, he was almost certain that it would become reality.
“Actually I bought you this because that hideous thing you’ve been sporting lately to hide the marks on your neck is hurting my eyes... But if you have any suggestions for a more creative use for it, then please, share with the rest of the class.”
“You actually got this for me?” Dan says, in awe. He didn’t even think Chuck noticed him outside of their banter and their tryst. He was about to say he couldn’t take it when Chuck stopped him.
“Don’t make a big deal out of this Humphrey. Trust me; I’m doing this for the sake of every New Yorker’s eyes.”
“How altruistic of you,” Dan retorts. Whenever Chuck did anything that could be construed as nice, when he didn’t have an ulterior motive, he always deflected attention off it. Dan knew that trick already.
He knew quite a few of Chuck’s tricks by now.
“So how exactly am I supposed to explain this? There’s no way my family won’t notice, and you know I can’t afford it on my own.”
“Tell them your new buddy Serena got it for you; tell them someone took pity on you, tell them you saved up cause you actually developed taste. You’re a good liar Daniel, I’m sure you’ll think of something.”
Dan paused and absently touched his neck. He gave Chuck a look. Where did that come from? It asked and Chuck replied with a cryptic smirk. Before Dan could think too much about it, Chuck’s hands moved south. As the zipper was pulled down, there was another whisper in his ear.
“Don’t take the scarf off,” he says and Dan shivers again; the warm, soft material around his neck suddenly feeling constrictive. Like a collar.
The scary thing was that he didn’t mind. Not as much as he should.
Continue: part b