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fic: quite nice people || dan/blair; 1/2

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quite nice people
Dan/Blair.
11853 words. R. S4 AU, from 4x18 onward.


Summary: Blair never thought the person she wanted would be Dan Humphrey.



Note: I wrote this at the beginning of season five, actually, when I was fucking up to here with Blair's pregnancy and engagement. Then DB actually happened and I was so fangirly that I didn't end up finishing it. Now that everything is shit again, I figured it was time I did.






After accepting that she is not, in fact, dying of consumption or malaise or some Brooklyn strand of tetanus, Blair gets a call from Epperly that makes her actually consider getting out of bed.

Work is soothing. Blair likes working. She likes order and lists and yelling, all of which her job requires and all of which she does par excellence.

(And it prevents Blair from thinking about anything else, like boys or kissing or destiny or labradors.)

Except, like the fly in her ointment he insists upon being, Dan Humphrey shows up and ruins everything. "What are you doing here?"

"I'm here to get my photo taken," he says cheerfully, arms outspread, but his expression falters at the look on her face. "Uh," tone already settling into disappointment, "for the up-and-comers section, you know?"

"This isn't a photo shoot for a high school yearbook, there is no up-and-comers section," Blair says tartly. She has things she should be off doing, important things that involve Dan Humphrey not staring at her. "And even if it were, let's face it, Humphrey, you wouldn't make the cut."

His laugh then is not bitter but certainly not pleased either; more like something he expected to happen has happened. Resigned. "Tell me you didn't do this just to humiliate me?"

Blair's brow knits and she frowns, because she thought it was clear he'd been moved off her Humiliate and Destroy List. "What? No. I don't even know what this is."

"Epperly called me and told me I was in this shoot," he says. "You didn't have anything to do with that?"

"No," Blair says slowly, because he obviously is not making the connections here. "And I can't imagine why Epperly would –"

Then the pieces click into place and Blair realizes she was the one who wasn't making the connections.

"Chuck," she realizes furiously, and even stamps her foot a little. She moves past Dan to find Chuck and give him a piece of her mind, maybe with some sharp swatting, but then she turns back and takes Dan in – his suit, that grin he'd had on his face, and says, "You came here for me?"

"Uh…" Dan shifts his weight, clearly uncomfortable. He shoves his hands into his pockets, ruining the line of his jacket utterly. "Yeah, I –"

"Here." She shoves her clipboard into his hands, illuminates his confusion by saying, "If you're here you might as well make yourself useful. The Suttons are up next, go make sure they're ready." She gives him a critical up-and-down and offers, "You look nice, you know." She points at him. "But don't let that go to your head."

Dan smiles again. It would be sweet if she were into that sort of thing. "I won't."

Blair would very much like to avoid Chuck for the rest of the shoot (for the rest of forever) but he finds her, because Chuck always finds her.

"I'm busy," Blair snaps. "Some of us have jobs, we can't just stand around all day."

Chuck is frowning, though. It's not his usual smirk, that infuriating expression he gets when he's trying to goad some reaction out of her. "I saw Dan Humphrey here earlier."

Blair doesn't respond, checking tags on the garment bags to make sure everything is matching up.

Chuck's voice lowers. "I know you kissed him."

Blair pauses and presses her lips together briefly. "So?" she says, voice coming out less arch than she'd like. "You and I aren't dating. And you kiss a lot of people." She takes a breath and breezes past him. "I can do whatever I want."

Contemptuously, "With him?"

Blair bristles. "You do realize I know what you did, don't you? I'm not stupid, Chuck. I don't know why you invited him here –" To smoke out her feelings, maybe, or just to make her uncomfortable, to do what he always does and needle her into giving the reaction he's craving. "And, to be honest, I don't really care."

Chuck catches her arm before she can walk away, pulling her back. "He's not one of us," Chuck says, frustration evident. He gestures widely, encompassing his own sleek suit, the luxury of the room, everyone passing around them in their pseudo-royal finest. "He doesn't belong."

"You're acting like a child," she says without much heat. "This isn't high school anymore, and I'm over it."

Insistently, Chuck says, "You're not supposed to be with someone like him."

"He's my friend," Blair says, yanking her arm free. "You don't get to tell me who to be friends with. I have work to do – and don't you have a photo to take?"

Chuck frowns. "This isn't you."

Blair meets his eyes. "You don't know me as well as you thought."

Later Blair catches sight of Humphrey trying to wrangle someone's brat. He isn't wearing his jacket or tie anymore, his sleeves are pushed up, and he's unbuttoned the fist few buttons of his shirt. He's talking very earnestly to the little girl, whose face is screwed up like she's one second away from a massive fit.

Dan is crouching, gesturing a lot as he talks. As Blair watches, he startles a giggle out of the girl and that makes him smile too. They talk for a few more minutes and then he leads her off by the hand, situation solved.

Blair fiddles with her pen and doesn't know what to feel.

By the end of the day she's exhausted. She finds Dan chatting amiably with an intern who was at W with them and tosses him a careless glance, interrupts to ask, "So are you coming over or not?"

Blair is secretly pleased when he turns away from the other girl without a thought and says, "Sure."

They get food and sit on her bedroom floor with her laptop open, though they only give the minimum of their attention to the movie playing. Blair has kicked off her heels and tossed her blazer on the bed, where it rests on Dan's.

"You really thought there was an up-and-comers section?" Blair asks, laughing.

"I got a very official-sounding call about it," Dan insists.

"I'm sure," she says doubtfully.

"Maybe Epperly was trying to romance me," he says. "She used to give me the eye around the old W offices."

"Ew," Blair says. "No."

"She's a nice-looking woman. Even if 'Epperly' isn't exactly the kind of name you want to scream out in passion."

"Oh my god, ew." Blair makes a face and shudders. "Why are you talking to me about passion and screaming? Do you want me to be violently ill?"

"And take to your bed for another week?"

The question sobers Blair but she can tell he just means it as a joke. "Yes, exactly. Think of the time I'll lose, all because of your crass attempts at humor."

Dan smiles but he's watching her more intently now; maybe he noticed the shift in her mood. Dan is always noticing things she'd rather he not notice, it's very annoying. "What did I do last time that drove you into isolation?"

She frowns. "Do you really have to ask?"

"Was kissing me that horrifying?"

"Yes," Blair says flatly.

The corners of his mouth turn down, not quite a frown but almost a pout. "I'm a good kisser," he says. "People have told me so."

"And you believed them?"

"They were very reputable sources."

"Georgina is hardly a reputable source," Blair says. "And that other one, who wore those chunky necklaces and all those patterns…"

"Vanessa," Dan supplies dryly.

"Oh," Blair says, "Was that her name? Well. Hardly reputable." She wonders if he'll cite Serena.

"So you're set on giving me that bad review then?"

Blair fidgets a little and then says decisively, "Yes."

She wonders for a second if he's going to ask her to prove it, but Dan just shrugs and smiles a little, says, "Too bad for me, then."

"Maybe –" Blair says, then stops. They fall into an awkward silence for the first time. Onscreen, Myrna Loy laughs.

Dan bites his lip and glances at her. "Maybe?"

"Maybe," she starts again, slower, but she doesn't get out another word before Dan has leaned in and kissed her. Blair pulls back immediately. "Why did you do that?"

Dan's cheeks are very faintly flushed. "It, uh, seemed like a – a moment."

"Well it wasn't," Blair says and then kisses him again. She can feel his mouth curve in a smile and Blair smiles too, a little. It's better than the first one, though the angle is awkward with both of them leaning over the pizza box, holding themselves just slightly away from each other. It's like a hello. It's an introduction to kissing Dan, without all the pressure of just one kiss.

As they part Dan presses another quick, tiny kiss to the corner of her mouth and it makes something flutter in her chest, a little burst of shivers.

"Humphrey," she says softly.

He's looking at her mouth. "Yeah?"

"You taste like cheese and grease."

He huffs a laugh, rolls his eyes. "That's exactly what I wanted to hear, thank you."

She smiles brightly.










On Saturday they watch all the Nick and Nora Charles movies. It's the same as every other movie marathon they've ever had except halfway into the second film Dan takes her hand.

Then he just sort of holds it in his lap between his hands.

Blair purses her lips. "What do you think you're doing?"

"Distracting you with my masculine wiles."

"Your hands are clammy."

He turns to her with a raised eyebrow and one of those humorless expressions he's been giving her since high school. "Relax."

Blair frowns at him, eyes narrowing, but does let the tension seep from her body somewhat, allowing her fingers to curl slightly around his.

"I suppose if anyone walks in," she says, "this will make it easier to sell that we've been handcuffed together like an episode of a wacky sitcom."

Dan stares at her for a moment before starting to laugh. "All of these things are just running through your head at all times, aren't they?"

Blair's lips twitch but she doesn't give in to the smile. "Plausible deniability, Humphrey!"

Dan has a look on his face that's half-puzzled, half-exasperated and then he kisses her.

Blair means to pull back, ask what it is he thinks they're doing, but instead she's meeting him halfway, opening her mouth into the kiss. He's still holding her hand kind of awkwardly between them but his other hand is gently cupping her face. Every time she kisses Dan it's a little better than the last time: a little less hesitant, a little more comfortable.

Sometimes when she was kissing Chuck it felt like he was pulling away even as he was pulling her in. Dan's different, though. It's more like he's waiting – for her to catch up, maybe.

When they part, Blair notes quietly, "Making a habit of that."

Dan smiles, already leaning back in. "I guess so."

She puts a hand on his chest to stop him, ignoring the warmth of his worn t-shirt beneath her fingers.

A tiny pucker creases his brow. "What is it?"

Everything's wrong, she thinks. None of this makes any sense. But she can't make herself say it because it doesn't feel wrong; it feels comfortable, even as her spine tenses under his hand. It's a good kind of tense, nervous and alert, waiting to see if his hand will move up into her hair or lower down her back.

"Nothing. You have no sense of personal space," Blair murmurs, tilting up to press her lips to his.

Dan shrugs, neither here nor there. "You smell nice," he says, like that's an answer.

That night after he leaves she stands in front of the mirror for a long time, touching the small spot on her neck shaped like his mouth. Then she frowns, drops her hand.

"What are you doing?" she asks herself, and she has nothing to say.










The sex just kind of happens. It's only once, and Blair has no intention of repeating it.

Afterwards Blair rationalizes that sex between friends is common, especially in their world of ever-changing social mores. There are all those subpar romantic comedies about it. Doing it with Humphrey is simple logic – Blair has needs but she's too conflicted about Chuck to sleep with him and simply too exhausted to find or train a new boy.

Dan's here and he's a decent kisser and he's not entirely awful to look at.

Sort of nice, in some lighting.

They're kissing on the couch in the loft with a movie playing in the background because they are built on excuses and they have to pretend that they're watching a movie, doing anything but this. Dan tilts her head to the side so he can kiss down her neck. His hand slips from her chin to her waist, running lightly over the buttons down the front of her dress. Each time his fingers almost seem to catch on one releases another burst of those repulsive shivers and Blair – Blair just wants.

Dan still kisses her so softly and she just wants him to bite.

"Dan," she murmurs, almost a whine.

He laughs quietly. "Yes?"

"Kiss me," she demands.

"In case you haven't noticed…" He presses his lips to the underside of her jaw, then to her cheek, then the very corner of her mouth. "That's kind of what's happening here."

"No," she says, because he's such an idiot sometimes, "For real."

Dan seems confused. He's leaning over her and her hands are grasping his shirt but he hesitates, still. Blair sighs a little, intending to yank him over, but then Dan is cupping her cheek, grabbing her hair, and kissing her just as hard as she wants him to. Blair moans the tiniest bit (she doesn't want him to feel accomplished or anything like that but a little encouragement never hurt) and she tugs at the buttons of his shirt impatiently, only getting it half-open before deciding that's good enough. She runs her hands over his throat, over the smooth ridge of collarbone and then over his chest, scratching lightly.

Dan breaks the kiss to catch his breath and Blair presses closer restlessly. She nips sharply at the arched line of his neck, asks with soft-voiced impatience, "What are you waiting for?"

One of his hands slips from her side to cup her breast, fingertips rubbing absently over her nipple through the fabric before trailing to the button at the top of her shirt. "You," he says, and he looks kind of dazed. "Are we really doing this?"

"Yes," she says shortly. She arches her back a little, urging. "Get going, Humphrey, or I'll be forced to take my business elsewhere."

They both know it's an empty threat but it does it's job; with a smile and a shake of his head, Dan is kissing her again, hungrier than before.

He gives up on the tiny, numerous buttons on her shirt almost immediately, yanking it free from her skirt and pushing it up, meeting the barrier of her longline bra for his trouble.

"Fuck," Dan laughs. "You're too complicated."

Blair smiles, hand tangling easily in his hair as she tilts his head back. "Humphrey, I believe the word you're looking for is enigmatic."

Dan only grins back at her, so open.

Their first time is on Dan's couch, mostly clothed and kind of quick. They laugh into their kisses and afterwards nothing feels different.










Dan calls her not long after, only she doesn't quite expect what he says. "My dad wants me to go to that charity thing Lily's throwing," he starts, "And I thought maybe we could go together, and you could help me pick out a –"

"Go together," Blair repeats blankly. "Why would we do that."

"Because," Dan says. "You're…" He finishes in a mumble, barely audible. "You're kind of…my girlfriend."

"Kind of your what, Daniel?" she says, feeling full names are required in this situation. "Kind of your what?"

Sounding annoyed, he repeats more clearly, "Girlfriend."

Blair makes a little dry-heaving noise. "I'm not your girlfriend, Humphrey. God. What a horrifying thought, why would you even vocalize something like that to me? I just had lunch for crying out loud."

But she does go help him pick out a tie.

Blair holds a pink plaid tie up against Dan. She gives it a critical once-over and drops it back on the table. She holds up a striped one; abandons that too.

"I don't see why we can't go together," he says. "It would be a good time to tell everyone that we're – that we're friends. No one's going to get mad at a charity."

"Are you mentally ill?" Blair asks. "Or have you just blocked out the last four years of your life? It doesn't matter the locale, it's been more than proven that we work better on a need-to-know basis."

One of those involuntary smiles crosses Dan's face. He tilts his head, observing her. "Are you admitting that we work?"

If Blair wasn't a lady, she'd smack him in the face with her handful of ties. "Humphrey, do you want me to stop helping you? Because you can't do this on your own and you'll feel like an idiot when you show up in mauve instead of pink."

"Yes," Dan says dryly, "That would the most embarrassing thing that could ever happen to me."

"Exactly," Blair says, glaring at him a little. "Now come on, we're trying on shirts."

She might as well get some enjoyment from this outing.

They attend the party separately, of course. Dan arrives twenty minutes after she does, just like she told him to. Blair's pleased he listened.

"Oh hey," Serena says brightly. "It's Dan."

Serena's cousin, whose name Blair has purposefully not bothered to learn, pipes up. "Wearing a really nice tie."

Serena tilts her head, observing Blair. "Blair, did you know he was coming?"

"I'm sorry," Blair says, gaze finding him across the sea of middle-aged women in pink, "I stopped listening as soon as I heard you say 'Dan.'"

Dan catches her eye and smiles shyly, sweetly. Blair suddenly just wants to – she just wants to kiss him, immediately, press into the circle of his arms and breathe him in.

It's then that she realizes how intently Serena and The Cousin are watching her and how incriminating her expression would be if they knew what they were looking for.

"Excuse me," she says cheerfully, making a beeline for the nearest waiter. Blair needs a drink, even if it has to be pink champagne.

Blair makes sure not to lock eyes with Humphrey again, lest his obnoxious puppy dog stare unintentionally announce that they've slept together to the entire room. She can't help glancing at him, however, every once in a while, just to make sure he isn't making too big a fool of himself.

At one point she sees him chatting to The Cousin (who, in Blair's opinion, has the proportions of a lollipop). Dan laughs genuinely at something the girl says and in return she beams, an utterly flirtatious smile that should not be on her face. It's shameless, Blair thinks. It's even worse when The Cousin puts a hand on Dan's arm, leans forward and in.

Blair's over there before she can think twice about it.

"Excuse me, hello," Blair says, narrowing her eyes at Serena's cousin. The girl starts to answer but Blair interrupts, informing her, "This is Dan Humphrey, Serena's ex-boyfriend, which makes him off limits to you." She turns her frown on Dan. "And you should know better. Certain people might see you and misunderstand."

She slips a hand into the crook of Dan's arm and tugs, ignoring the amused look on his face. "I need to speak to you about your behavior. Privately."

She drags him upstairs to the office, smacking his shoulder as soon as the door is shut. "What do you think you're doing, Humphrey?"

It's hard to be intimidating when he seems to think everything she does is so funny. "I was having a conversation –"

"No," Blair correctly sharply. "You were flirting. Or at the very least she was flirting and you weren't doing very much to dissuade her."

"Why should I?" Dan asks, eyebrows raised. "I don't have a girlfriend."

Blair purses her lips. "You were also staring at me."

"You look pretty," he says, shrugging. "Kind of hard not to stare."

"Don't you do that." Blair smacks his arm again. "You act this flirtatious with everyone in the room, someone's going to think you're Nate."

Dan laughs, head tipping back. "I wasn't flirting with anyone. Except you, just now." He's enjoying this too much. "You know, it's kind of ridiculous for one of my friends to ban me from other girls…"

"I'm just being a good Samaritan," she snaps. "Do you really want your ex to see you hitting on her family members?"

"I wasn't hitting on Charlie," Dan says, first note of exasperation entering his voice. "The only girl I've been halfway interested in for the last few months is you."

Blair bristles a little at that. "You know we're just –"

"We slept together," Dan interrupts. "That means something, whether you want it to or not. That's not like a friendly handshake."

"What, do you want to be my boyfriend?" she scoffs. Out of her mouth it sounds like the worst word in the world.

Not to Dan though – Dan just looks contemplative and hesitant and maybe like that is what he wants.

Before he can say anything to that effect, or anything at all, she grabs him by the tie and pulls him into a kiss.

"Stop talking," she says quietly, pulling back just barely. "Oh Dan, stop talking."

The rejoin the party together; she already walked out with Dan, so she might as well walk back in with him. They're halfway down the stairs when everyone's phones go off at once. A familiar rising dread fills Blair as she fishes her phone out of her purse, Dan peering over her shoulder. There it is – the expected blast. Before she opens it, she already knows what it is.

It's Blair kissing Dan, full color and sound. She hears it echoing faintly across the room, her own voice small and cellphone-filtered, over and over, oh Dan.

The first set of eyes she meets is Serena's. There's nothing but accusation there. Blair could kick herself. She should have recognized Serena's bright-fake voice earlier, but she'd been too distracted. Too stupidly, stupidly distracted.

The minions look poised to descend, identical looks of maniacal glee on their faces – vultures faced with a fresh carcass.

"This is better than my parents' divorce," Penelope breathes.

"Serena," Blair starts, darting down the rest of the way. "Serena, I can explain –"

"I can't believe you lied to me." Serena is clearly furious. "But why am I surprised? It's what you're best at."

Then she's moving past Blair, back upstairs, and Blair doesn't know what to do except follow her. "It wasn't –" she starts, and then falters, can't pretend it meant nothing when there's video evidence to the contrary.

Serena stops once they reach her room, turning with her arms folded to face Blair. And Dan, she realizes, who has been two steps behind her this entire time.

"So," Serena says, "Does someone want to explain how this even started in the first place?"

Blair has no idea how to explain that, but luckily Dan offers, "We were both alone in the city over Christmas break."

"And we ran into each other at the movies," Blair adds.

"And then it kept happening after the break, only we started making plans to meet."

"And even worse," Blair says with a bemused frown, "enjoying it."

Serena's unimpressed. "Why couldn't you just tell me?"

Dan shrugs, says, "I was hoping it would go away," as Blair says, "I was humiliated." She clears her throat a little and continues, "That's why we kissed."

"To make sure nothing else was going on," Dan says. "That would complicate us or – or hurt you."

Serena looks between them. "And?"

Unthinkingly, Blair glances at Dan and finds him already looking at her. She presses her lips together and finally admits, "Something else was going on."

Serena doesn't say anything at first. Then, "Well, I'm really glad you two found each other because you sure lost me."

She turns away and Blair takes the opportunity to shove a protesting Dan outside, closing the door on him.

"I'm really sorry," Blair sighs, and she means it. "I was in denial. I didn't want to admit that I had begun to understand the Humphrey appeal." She shudders a little at the mere thought.

Curtly, like it's obvious, Serena says, "The only appeal Dan ever had to you was that he was mine."

Under Serena's glare, Blair wants to give it up, just because it's easier that way. She wants to forget anything with Dan ever happened, lose the territory war because they've fought too many already and Blair always ends up losing.

But instead she says, "I'm sorry to break it to you, but Dan and I have a real connection. We do things like visit the Dia and debate Chabrol versus Rohmer." She crosses her arms, angry, impatient. "And I – I want to – to try, with him, and I haven't wanted to try with anyone besides Chuck in a really long time and –" And it's scary, starting all over with someone different, especially when her track record leaves a lot to be desired. Since she's full of admissions tonight, she might as well be honest about everything. "I want to see if it goes anywhere. Or is anything."

Blair never thought the person she wanted would be Dan Humphrey.

"I can't talk about this now," Serena says, but her voice has lost that hard edge. "I just – I have to go."

"Okay," Blair says helplessly. She watches Serena leave, blowing past Dan like he's a stranger. He steps back into the room, hands in pockets and eyebrows raised, a silent, sarcastic that went well.

"So?" he prompts.

She doesn't answer, saying instead, "While Humphreys are far from escort material, I suppose a girl must work with what she has." She holds out a hand. "Take me home."

As he takes her hand, it seems like he didn't expect that, thinking perhaps that Serena finding out would really be the end of them. Blair's heart picks up at the thought that there's a them to end. "Yes, ma'am."

The fight with Serena replays in Blair's head the entire cab ride home.

She and Dan are still holding hands, but it's beginning to feel more like clutching. She took some kind of stand back there, and she did it for him. She's not naïve enough to think this is the end of hers and Serena's friendship but she's also aware how hard a blow it might be.

Blair made a choice and that choice was Dan – a friend she kisses sometimes and slept with once, who talks her into fast food hangovers and knows her every reference without blinking.

Blair lets their fingers interlock, takes comfort in his cool dry palm. "You're coming up, aren't you?"

Dan seems slightly suspicious of her composure. "If you want me to."

Up in her room, she's got the door locked and Dan backed up against it in record time. She kisses him with pure determination, grasping the lapels of his suit tightly, pressing into him. His cool hands are on her back, trying to find the zip of her dress, and he nips at her bottom lip.

Dan follows her lead immediately, which is precisely what she likes about him. It's nice, except a second later he ruins it by opening his mouth.

"This is a change," he says.

"Are you complaining?" Blair replies archly, pushing at his jacket until he shrugs it off.

"No," he says, his mouth on hers again for a long distracting moment. "But if this is just because of what happ-"

"It's not," she says. It is, just not for the reasons he thinks. She pulls his tie off and tosses it aside. "But it made me think of something."

"What's that?"

"I haven't even seen you naked," Blair says. "That's like buying a house without getting an inspection."

Dan starts to laugh, but Blair's solemn eyebrow-raise cuts him off. She steps back a bit, sits on her bed and feels her skirt puff around her. She watches him.

"Off," she says imperiously.

Dan does that half-smile thing, shaking his head, and complies: his shirt is unbuttoned, joins his jacket on the floor. His undershirt comes over his head, leaving his hair more of a mess than usual, slightly static. Then he unbuckles his belt, kicks his trousers aside. Their eyes meet and Dan sucks his lower lip into this mouth contemplatively before hooking his fingers in his briefs and tugging them down.

Blair's gaze trails over him. Dan shifts his weight awkwardly. "You just gonna stare at me?"

"Yes…" Blair slips from her perch and pads over.

His arms are held a little tensely at his side, like he doesn't know what to do with them. "Well?"

Blair sets a gentle hand on his shoulder, leans in to press a kiss to his neck, to his chest, then she leans a little farther down to kiss his stomach and folds gracefully to her knees.

"Oh," Dan says.

His breathing goes a little shallow. The rise and fall of his stomach is right there in her line of sight and the lipgloss kiss she left there catches the light, a glossy pale pink imprint left behind. She doesn't know why she wanted to do this – it was sudden, a whim. It's not something she ever used to do a lot of anyway, disliking it, the feeling of it. She has such an easily triggered gag reflex.

But Blair presses her mouth along the length of him and then takes him in, hears Dan's sharp intake of breath. One of his hands curls around the base of her skull, fingers in her hair bumping against pins. It's a gentle sort of grip, cradling. She looks up and finds his eyes closed, lower lip caught by his teeth again. He's not terrible-looking, she thinks. Not at all.

His eyes open when Blair pulls off, looking down at her with a slightly-creased brow as she touches her lips, wipes away saliva. It's so messy, she thinks, that's why she never does it.

Then Blair is pulled to her feet and kissed, deeply. Before she gets a chance to put her arms around his neck, she's spun around so Dan can finally get her dress off. He works the fastenings impatiently and she thinks she should chide him for being rough with something so very expensive, but she doesn't. She waits breathlessly for her dress to drop to the ground, for Dan to spin her back into another kiss.

It startles her how much she wants him. She's not sure she'll ever get used to it.

They tip back onto the bed together. Blair is extraordinarily conscious of it, the bed, this place where they've kissed and watched movies innocently side by side. But now it's different, charged and different and strange. She's so used to Dan covered up in layers and layers but now it's so much skin, so much warmth. He's so very naked, literally and figuratively; the way he looks at her holds nothing back. She's seen him look at girls like that before and she's always observed it with derision but now shivers are bursting in her like fireworks. She's so aware of everything. His steady gaze is only somewhat grounding.

"Are you okay?" Dan murmurs. He presses a small kiss to the corner of her mouth. "Do you want to stop?"

"Don't be stupid," Blair says but her voice lacks any bite and she captures his mouth again.

Blair almost wishes they'd waited and this was the first time, because it goes just like it's supposed to go. If sex with Humphrey was anything she was supposed to be doing.

There are kisses pressed to her stomach, which dips pleasurably under his mouth. Blair catches fistfuls of his hair, eyeing the ceiling with an appreciative little sigh.

There is the brief pink of Dan's tongue as he wets his fingers, the first two, before touching her.

There's Dan above her and inside her, the way he brushes her hair back and runs his fingers over her skin from temple to throat. His expression is almost solemn. There's his quiet, intent voice saying, "You're so pretty, you know that?" but kissing her before she can say anything, if she could have said anything.










Dan sits up blearily in bed, half-heartedly tugging the sheets over himself. His hair is completely absurd, sticking up in all sorts of bizarre curlicues. Blair has no idea what to do with him, except maybe make him brush his teeth and then shove him back into bed and climb on top of him.

Blair tilts her head thoughtfully. The idea has merit.

"Good morning," she says, taking a sip of coffee. She's leaning against the closed door in her robe, cup clutched between both hands for warmth.

"Coffee," Dan says. He's only got one eye open, peering at her.

"Yes," Blair lifts the mug slightly, "This is coffee. Good eye, Humphrey."

He holds out his hand. For some unimaginable reason, Blair crosses the room and gives it to him, watches her precious morning pick-me-up get slurped away.

"This is some romantic morning after," she says, as she's handed it back. "I get to watch you slobber all over my breakfast without even so much as a hello, how are you."

Dan grins lazily, falling back against the pillows. "Coffee isn't breakfast."

"Mm," Blair says. "Is that so?"

His hand slides over her thigh, rumpling the silk; he toys with the tie of her robe. "Want to go out for breakfast?"

"You and I," she says, raising an eyebrow, "in public?"

"After last night we're not exactly a secret anymore," he says.

She thinks he means the sex (which, how would anyone know?) but then she realizes he meant the blast. She'd completely forgotten about it.

She'd forgotten about Serena too. It comes back in a sharp, pinching rush: the only appeal Dan ever had to you was that he was mine.

"We can't," Blair says. "I have to talk to Serena first."

"Ah." He drops his gaze, pulls his hands back into his lap. "Right. Serena."

"I should probably do it on my own," she says, sighing a little at the thought. "God knows you'd only end up saying something stupid and make the whole situation worse."

Dan rolls his eyes. "Thank you for the vote of confidence."

Blair half-smiles. "I only speak from experience. Your talking never leads to anything good."

"It's led to a couple of good things," he argues, eyes falling to her mouth.

Blair presses her lips together so her smile won't widen and she wonders again how his particular brand of charm came to work on her. Unthinkingly, she reaches out to tangle a hand in his hair, messy curls soft against her fingers. It makes her think of last night, grasping his hair and kissing open-mouthed when she came. Blair is immediately embarrassed but Dan grins at her, slow and pleased. His head tilts into her hand like he's asking to be pet.

"You look like a Muppet," Blair says.

Dan laughs. "You know just how to charm a fella, Waldorf."

She knows he has to leave before Serena comes home, which could be any minute. Blair should put him back in his suit and send him on his way, erase all signs of him from her room.

Only all she really wants is for him to stay.

Perhaps noticing her slight sobering of expression, Dan asks softly, "What are you going to tell her?"

"I don't know," she says. Last night she'd been so callous with him. What, do you want to be my boyfriend? Now the question would come out so differently, self-conscious and not at all snide.

"Do you…" He hesitates, worrying his lip. "You don't regret last night, do you? Because I –"

She thinks of how dark his eyes were focused on her, sweet and serious.

"I don't," Blair says. "I don't regret one minute."

Then Dan is kissing her fiercely, both hands on either side of her face, and Blair forgets all about kicking him out.

By the time Serena has returned, arms crossed and mouth pursed like she hasn't stopped sucking lemons all night, all traces of Dan have vanished. Blair's bed is made up with fresh sheets and she's dressed, hair arranged to the last curl, lipstick on, pristine. Her dress from the pink party is already on its way to the cleaners. There's only Dan's tie left behind to show he was there at all, looped over her desk chair by him at the last minute.

"B," Serena says evenly.

"S," Blair returns.

Before Dan left, he'd pushed Blair's robe off her shoulders and she'd climbed into his lap and –

Well. More of the same.

"You left with Dan last night," Serena says, not a question.

Blair nods. "He left a couple of hours ago."

"So that's how it is?" she says. "You're dating Dan now."

"I –" Blair mirrors Serena's stance, arms folding. "I don't know yet."

"You slept with him," Serena says, also not a question. "You kissed him at the pink party. Apparently you spend all your time together, you have a real connection –"

"That doesn't mean that I'm dating him," Blair interrupts sharply. A beat later, she adds, "Yet."

Serena uncrosses her arms, crosses them again. "I don't know what I'm supposed to say."

Blair frowns. "I didn't expect you to be thrilled, but –"

"But what?" Serena says. "Am I supposed to be offering you congratulations?"

"It's not like this is the first time we've ever gotten involved with one of each other's exes," Blair snaps.

"Is that what this is about? Some kind of bizarre retroactive way of getting even?"

"God," Blair exclaims, rolling her eyes, "Six months ago you couldn't have picked Dan out of a lineup."

"That's not true," Serena says, looking hurt.

"You're right, I'm sorry," Blair says unapologetically. "That's still the case. Which boyfriend of the week are we on now, Serena?"

"That's not fair," Serena says. "That's not what this is about."

"Tell me what it is about then."

"You lied to me."

Blair huffs a sigh. "I just didn't tell you immediately."

"You could have warned me," Serena says.

"I wanted to keep it to myself for five minutes!" Blair exclaims. "It's not my fault someone sent it to Gossip Girl."

There's an almost imperceptible shift in Serena's expression then, her gaze dropping briefly before her frown reasserts itself.

"Serena," Blair says, "Do you know who –"

"I didn't tell her to send it to Gossip Girl," Serena says immediately. "Charlie and I were just trying to figure out if you and –"

"Oh my god, you sent your hick cousin to do your dirty work?" Blair stares at her. "All this talk of lying and you couldn't just come out and ask me about Dan?"

"You wouldn't have told me!" Serena says. "Which, obviously, you didn't."

"You didn't give me a chance to!" Blair expels a quick, annoyed sigh. "You can't claim Dan anymore," she says. "You can't. You didn't want him. You broke up two years ago. I refuse to feel guilty about it."

"Right, usual Blair." Serena frowns. "You can't make this okay through sheer force of will."

"Watch me," Blair says.










She lets herself into the loft with the key under the mat when it's nearing two a.m. She steps out of her shoes by the door and crosses barefoot to Dan's room. The door is slightly ajar and it creaks when she pushes it open, slips inside. Dan doesn't stir. He's sleeping sprawled on his stomach, t-shirt riding up, body taking over the entire bed. The fan of his dark lashes is stark against his pale skin.

Blair pushes him a little, picking up his arm and sliding into the space beside him, careless of her dress. Dan shifts a little, arm curling around her waist.

"Dan," she murmurs. "Humphrey. Humphrey, wake up." Dan makes a little mumbley sound. Blair nudges her nose against his cheek. "Wake up."

His eyes flutter open then closed, face scrunching up. He peers at her. "Dream?"

"Reality," Blair says.

"You're a cat burglar," Dan says. His arm tightens, drawing her against his chest. "And your dress is scratchy."

"You can't be a burglar if you're not stealing anything. As for the dress…" Blair presses her face into his neck. He smells like sleep, warm beds and sheets and skin. "You could do something about that."

She feels Dan smile as he gropes for her zipper, sliding it down and immediately putting his hand in the gap, flat against her skin. "How did it go?"

Blair tenses a little and then sighs. "Not particularly well."

He presses a kiss to her ear. "Want to talk about it?"

Blair shakes her head. She shifts back just enough that they can wriggle her out of her dress, tossing it aside in a way that makes her cringe. She quickly forgets as she turns back into the circle of Dan's arms, tucking her face into the crook of his neck again. Her nails dig into his back a little, rumpling his shirt.

"She's going to get over it," Blair says, faux-confident.

"She loves you," Dan says. His voice is muffled and sleepy-sounding.

"You don't…" Blair opens her eyes, gaze trained on the bed and wall beyond Dan's shoulder. She doesn't look at him. "You don't have feelings for her anymore, do you?"

"Not really," Dan says. "Not since…everything, you know. Not since you."

Blair feels a flush of warmth. "You can't just say things like that, Humphrey."

"Why not?"

"Because." She kisses his throat. "Then I have to experience the utterly shameful sensation of being charmed by you."

"I like you like this," he says, and it sounds like he's smiling.

"You're only saying that because I'm complimenting you," Blair says. "Don't get used to it."

"Wasn't planning on it," he promises.

Her arms around him tighten a little. "You better make this worth my while, Humphrey. I don't exactly enjoy fighting with Serena, despite what everyone might believe."

Dan pulls back to search her face, his own expression intent. "If you're serious about this," he says, "then so am I."

Blair presses her lips together. Admitting is always the hardest part. Finally, she says, "I am."

"Say it again," he says, and Blair does, "I am, I'm –"

Dan kisses her before she can really get the words out. Despite herself, despite him, the confession sends a shiver of worry through her. He knows, now; he can hurt her if he wants to.



Part Two


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