These Eyes Will See, Chuck/Nate, NC-17
These Eyes Will See, Chuck/Nate UST, Chuck/OFC, around 1,400 words, NC-17
Pre-series. How many times could I see Nate wake up six feet away from a clearly post-coital Chuck before I had to write this fic?
Warning: Some coercive/dubcon het.
This is what Chuck and Nate do:
Go to parties, because booze is an easy cover for what’s really going on when Chuck slides a hand up the back of some freshman’s shirt, letting the silk skim over his fingers, feeling slightly sweaty skin underneath. Chuck is invading her space, draping his other hand over her thigh and leaning his face into her neck to inhale whatever expensive perfume she sprayed on before heading out tonight.
Nate should probably object, he knows it; that girl is trashed and too young for this, for Chuck and his games. Instead, he shifts on the counter stool in the kitchen to hide the bulge in his jeans, and watches.
“Chuck, are you sure we should be in here?” she says nervously, futilely attempting to tuck back her hair.
Chuck sweeps a hand up from her knee to her ass and jerks her off balance. She falls into his body, giggling drunkenly, and Chuck leans in to bite at her ear.
It’s Blair’s party, so the guest list is exclusive, the décor is perfect, and the alcohol is extensive. Chuck had led the girl into the kitchen, tugging on her fingers firmly while she laughed and followed. She’s nervous, Nate can tell, a touch sweaty, long clunky necklace pushed clumsily to one side. Her back is to Nate, just on the other side of the counter, and her fingers are clenching the white marble counter.
She looks ridiculous, splayed out like that, obscene and a little frightening even as she trembles. Nate can see Chuck’s wide hand moving under her shirt- can see the red mark on her shoulder where a purple bruise in the form of a bite mark will be tomorrow- can see Chuck’s eyes, focused absolutely on her face, and has to take a long swallow of his whiskey.
“Not here,” she orders weakly.
“Here,” Chuck says, firm and arrogant.
She pushes at his shoulders, casting glances backwards at Nate. Her cheeks are flushed, and when she meets his look, her eyes hold just the barest edges of panic. “What about him?” she asks Chuck.
Chuck bites his lip in a façade of reticence. Sometimes he likes to be coy, will run anxious hands through his hair, shuffle his feet, lay out the bait like the gentlest wolf ever to hunt some poor, pathetic, freshman sheep. But every time, as he hustles her out the door, he’ll find Nate’s gaze and smirk, all perfectly white (bleached) teeth showing.
“Don’t worry about him,” Chuck says, never looking up at him. “He’s got a girlfriend.”
She pauses for a moment, weighing this, but Nate can see when she relaxes back against Chuck, only to jerk back up at the intrusion of his fingers into her panties.
This one’s brave, Nate thinks, brave and so stupid, because she believes she’s calling Chuck’s dare but Nate knows, everyone knows, that Chuck will screw her and never speak to her again.
She’s pressing back against the counter hard, now, and Nate is pretty sure that’s because of the way Chuck’s other hand is moving smoothly under her short, plaid skirt. Nate refills his glass from the tumbler as the fingers of one hand clench at Chuck’s shoulder. Her pink nails are digging in pretty tight. Chuck’ll have scratches tomorrow, which he hates.
It doesn’t take long before her head is tossed back, moving from side to side restlessly. Chuck’s smirking again, and Nate wants to- Nate loosens his tie. Her mouth is open- wet, pink tongue just visible as she pants like she’s doing more than getting fingered for the first time by Nate’s best friend.
If Nate turns his head just a bit and leans to the left, he can see the way Chuck’s hips are circling in small, jerky circles. His dick must be hard, digging into her side. Chuck’s pants are black, so Nate can’t see if there’s a wet spot at the front, and Nate bites down hard on the disappointment.
Chuck says that he should be too experienced to get off on just playing around in some chick’s pussy. Every time, though, he ends up unzipping and pulling himself out to run fingers around the head. This time is no exception, and even as the girl stiffens and moans, Chuck’s pulling her hand down onto his dick.
The counter is two feet across, but Nate can see every vein on Chuck’s dick. He thinks he can almost see them pulse in time with Chuck’s heartbeat, can almost feel the slickness of precome in his hand, the weight and thickness pressed up in between their bodies. Nate rests a hand on the line of his dick in his jeans, almost painful. He wants to hunt down Blair, pull her into her perfect bedroom and push her mouth onto his dick, mess up her hair and outfit with his sweaty palms. He wants to close his eyes, to throw Chuck’s random girl on the counter and shove into her tight pussy, to treat her like the slut she’s acting.
Instead, he listens to Chuck’s grunts. Chuck never tries to muffle them, thinks sex he’s having is worth sharing with the rest of the crowd. With Nate, sitting not two feet away as Chuck loses it all over her hand, her bracelets, her cute little plaid skirt.
It’s not until Chuck’s done pulsing all over her fingers that he meets Nate’s eyes, and the laughter there is infuriating. The girl clumsily tries to tuck him back in, intimidated now. Probably the first dick she’s ever seen. Chuck brushes her hands aside to do it himself, but gentles his motion when he looks back up at her face.
Nate runs a thumb down his dick, enough to tease but not to satisfy, and lets Chuck’s voice sink in. He’ll convince her to come back to his room, he always does. Nate can’t even seal the deal with Blair, and Chuck blows his load in a different girl whenever he likes. Nate doesn’t know if he hates Chuck- he thinks he might, a little, even though Chuck is his best friend- but he’s pretty sure he wants to slam Chuck up against the kitchen wall and wipe that permanent smirk off his face.
The girl turns puzzled eyes on Nate when he follows them into Chuck’s limo, nodding a hello to Rick. Chuck’s chauffeur is paid well enough to say nothing at the girl’s glazed eyes, at the way Chuck is subtly prodding her into the plush back.
“Hey, don’t worry, sweetheart,” Chuck murmurs, leaning on her shoulder, “Nate’s just gonna crash at my place tonight. But you and I can still party, I promise.” He buries his face in the girl’s professionally curled blonde locks, and for a second, Nate is reminded of Serena’s hair, falling in her face as she rode him. He’s so hard.
They’re going back to Chuck’s apartment, and once they do, Chuck will push that girl out of his plush limo and into his plush bed and undress her just enough to get to her important bits, because Chuck likes his fucks clothed and dirty. He’ll push her waxed legs over her head and take her virginity, add it to his collection of first times, and maybe he’ll make her come again, or maybe he’ll just thrust his dick in and go at it. And any way he does it, dirtying his covers and the girl and himself, Nate will be on the couch, his hand on his dick, fucking his fist, biting down on his lip to keep quiet, listening to Chuck’s moans and smelling his spunk.
Chuck tilts the girl’s face up for a brief touch of lips to lips, ridiculously chaste considering that his hand is still shiny from her pussy, and as she closes her eyes happily, Chuck looks up at Nate from underneath his long, girly eyelashes, daring him to step in- to stop him.
Nate knows that one day he will. That’s their unspoken promise- because this is what Chuck and Nate do, and that’s why he keeps on watching.
Pre-series. How many times could I see Nate wake up six feet away from a clearly post-coital Chuck before I had to write this fic?
Warning: Some coercive/dubcon het.
This is what Chuck and Nate do:
Go to parties, because booze is an easy cover for what’s really going on when Chuck slides a hand up the back of some freshman’s shirt, letting the silk skim over his fingers, feeling slightly sweaty skin underneath. Chuck is invading her space, draping his other hand over her thigh and leaning his face into her neck to inhale whatever expensive perfume she sprayed on before heading out tonight.
Nate should probably object, he knows it; that girl is trashed and too young for this, for Chuck and his games. Instead, he shifts on the counter stool in the kitchen to hide the bulge in his jeans, and watches.
“Chuck, are you sure we should be in here?” she says nervously, futilely attempting to tuck back her hair.
Chuck sweeps a hand up from her knee to her ass and jerks her off balance. She falls into his body, giggling drunkenly, and Chuck leans in to bite at her ear.
It’s Blair’s party, so the guest list is exclusive, the décor is perfect, and the alcohol is extensive. Chuck had led the girl into the kitchen, tugging on her fingers firmly while she laughed and followed. She’s nervous, Nate can tell, a touch sweaty, long clunky necklace pushed clumsily to one side. Her back is to Nate, just on the other side of the counter, and her fingers are clenching the white marble counter.
She looks ridiculous, splayed out like that, obscene and a little frightening even as she trembles. Nate can see Chuck’s wide hand moving under her shirt- can see the red mark on her shoulder where a purple bruise in the form of a bite mark will be tomorrow- can see Chuck’s eyes, focused absolutely on her face, and has to take a long swallow of his whiskey.
“Not here,” she orders weakly.
“Here,” Chuck says, firm and arrogant.
She pushes at his shoulders, casting glances backwards at Nate. Her cheeks are flushed, and when she meets his look, her eyes hold just the barest edges of panic. “What about him?” she asks Chuck.
Chuck bites his lip in a façade of reticence. Sometimes he likes to be coy, will run anxious hands through his hair, shuffle his feet, lay out the bait like the gentlest wolf ever to hunt some poor, pathetic, freshman sheep. But every time, as he hustles her out the door, he’ll find Nate’s gaze and smirk, all perfectly white (bleached) teeth showing.
“Don’t worry about him,” Chuck says, never looking up at him. “He’s got a girlfriend.”
She pauses for a moment, weighing this, but Nate can see when she relaxes back against Chuck, only to jerk back up at the intrusion of his fingers into her panties.
This one’s brave, Nate thinks, brave and so stupid, because she believes she’s calling Chuck’s dare but Nate knows, everyone knows, that Chuck will screw her and never speak to her again.
She’s pressing back against the counter hard, now, and Nate is pretty sure that’s because of the way Chuck’s other hand is moving smoothly under her short, plaid skirt. Nate refills his glass from the tumbler as the fingers of one hand clench at Chuck’s shoulder. Her pink nails are digging in pretty tight. Chuck’ll have scratches tomorrow, which he hates.
It doesn’t take long before her head is tossed back, moving from side to side restlessly. Chuck’s smirking again, and Nate wants to- Nate loosens his tie. Her mouth is open- wet, pink tongue just visible as she pants like she’s doing more than getting fingered for the first time by Nate’s best friend.
If Nate turns his head just a bit and leans to the left, he can see the way Chuck’s hips are circling in small, jerky circles. His dick must be hard, digging into her side. Chuck’s pants are black, so Nate can’t see if there’s a wet spot at the front, and Nate bites down hard on the disappointment.
Chuck says that he should be too experienced to get off on just playing around in some chick’s pussy. Every time, though, he ends up unzipping and pulling himself out to run fingers around the head. This time is no exception, and even as the girl stiffens and moans, Chuck’s pulling her hand down onto his dick.
The counter is two feet across, but Nate can see every vein on Chuck’s dick. He thinks he can almost see them pulse in time with Chuck’s heartbeat, can almost feel the slickness of precome in his hand, the weight and thickness pressed up in between their bodies. Nate rests a hand on the line of his dick in his jeans, almost painful. He wants to hunt down Blair, pull her into her perfect bedroom and push her mouth onto his dick, mess up her hair and outfit with his sweaty palms. He wants to close his eyes, to throw Chuck’s random girl on the counter and shove into her tight pussy, to treat her like the slut she’s acting.
Instead, he listens to Chuck’s grunts. Chuck never tries to muffle them, thinks sex he’s having is worth sharing with the rest of the crowd. With Nate, sitting not two feet away as Chuck loses it all over her hand, her bracelets, her cute little plaid skirt.
It’s not until Chuck’s done pulsing all over her fingers that he meets Nate’s eyes, and the laughter there is infuriating. The girl clumsily tries to tuck him back in, intimidated now. Probably the first dick she’s ever seen. Chuck brushes her hands aside to do it himself, but gentles his motion when he looks back up at her face.
Nate runs a thumb down his dick, enough to tease but not to satisfy, and lets Chuck’s voice sink in. He’ll convince her to come back to his room, he always does. Nate can’t even seal the deal with Blair, and Chuck blows his load in a different girl whenever he likes. Nate doesn’t know if he hates Chuck- he thinks he might, a little, even though Chuck is his best friend- but he’s pretty sure he wants to slam Chuck up against the kitchen wall and wipe that permanent smirk off his face.
The girl turns puzzled eyes on Nate when he follows them into Chuck’s limo, nodding a hello to Rick. Chuck’s chauffeur is paid well enough to say nothing at the girl’s glazed eyes, at the way Chuck is subtly prodding her into the plush back.
“Hey, don’t worry, sweetheart,” Chuck murmurs, leaning on her shoulder, “Nate’s just gonna crash at my place tonight. But you and I can still party, I promise.” He buries his face in the girl’s professionally curled blonde locks, and for a second, Nate is reminded of Serena’s hair, falling in her face as she rode him. He’s so hard.
They’re going back to Chuck’s apartment, and once they do, Chuck will push that girl out of his plush limo and into his plush bed and undress her just enough to get to her important bits, because Chuck likes his fucks clothed and dirty. He’ll push her waxed legs over her head and take her virginity, add it to his collection of first times, and maybe he’ll make her come again, or maybe he’ll just thrust his dick in and go at it. And any way he does it, dirtying his covers and the girl and himself, Nate will be on the couch, his hand on his dick, fucking his fist, biting down on his lip to keep quiet, listening to Chuck’s moans and smelling his spunk.
Chuck tilts the girl’s face up for a brief touch of lips to lips, ridiculously chaste considering that his hand is still shiny from her pussy, and as she closes her eyes happily, Chuck looks up at Nate from underneath his long, girly eyelashes, daring him to step in- to stop him.
Nate knows that one day he will. That’s their unspoken promise- because this is what Chuck and Nate do, and that’s why he keeps on watching.