the story and its writer
Pairing: Dan/Nate. Tiniest bit of Dan/Blair.
Rating/Word Count: R // 1624
Summary: It's with some trepidation, the scene starts, that I touch his knee.
Note: Yeah, when it comes to naming their alter-egos, IDK either. And really, this fic - I had to do it. Had to. Those spoilers were like asking me personally to do it. Also the title comes, lolzily enough, from one of my school textbooks.
Nate remembers saying, when they'd found out about the book, "They want to publish you. And dude, I'm sure it's great. So it pisses some people off, whatever."
It wasn't like he'd stop being friends with Dan over a book. A book Dan hadn't even wanted to put out there until Vanessa made the decision for him.
Dan gave him an indecipherable look and said, not for the first time, "I'll think about it."
Nate reads Dan's book because it's Dan's. Even so, it feels a little too personal. Nate already knows all of it just by virtue of being Dan's friend but that's an entirely different thing than seeing it how Dan sees it, having Dan's feelings printed out in black and white.
Then, about a third of the way through, he gets to the scene.
Nate stares at the page.
It's with some trepidation, the scene starts, that I touch his knee.
The scene is quick and, Nate discovers as he continues, it has little to no bearing on anything that comes after. There's no buildup to it. It's still the story of a bunch of rich kids, of being in love with two very different girls, or losing some part of yourself and becoming someone else. The scene is just there, isolated and strange and seemingly inconsequential.
But it's there, it exists, Nate reads it like twenty times. Dan is always harping on literary meaning and the tiniest things having the most significance and this? Definitely not a tiny thing.
It's in the period of time when Brandon lives with Jack (after kissing Jack's sister but before fucking his mother). It starts off familiar enough. Nate remembers staying up plenty of late nights with Dan, smoking or complaining, Dan making him food. In the book Brandon goes through his (Nate's) familial sob story in a way Nate probably never would.
Then not-Nate goes down on not-Dan.
He calls Dan up just to be sure. "I'm Brandon, right?" he says. "In the book. That's supposed to be me."
"It's fiction," Dan says carefully, like he's been saying it a lot lately. "Just fiction." He pauses. "How far are you?"
"Chapter three," Nate lies.
"Oh. Okay. Remember, as you proceed…it's just fiction."
His tongue flicks out over his bottom lip and I can't help but follow its motion, stare at his wet mouth. When I meet his eyes he's already looking at me and then there's Brandon's mouth under mine, unmoving but soft like I thought and his smells like weed and smoke and soap and I just hope my sister doesn't wander in for a midnight glass of water. His hands come up just as I start to pull away; he starts to say my name but doesn't finish.
Nate stays up reading, tucked away in a corner of the kitchen of his new one bedroom apartment. It's the brightest room and the least comfortable so it keeps him awake.
Nate's about halfway through when he realizes Dan is in love with Blair. Until that point the driving triangle had been Jack-Stella-Brandon until, out of nowhere, Tracy stopped being a snarky supporting character and blew the whole thing to bits.
It's the best part of the book. Nate doesn't read a lot, but even he can tell. That doesn't matter, though – what matters is that Dan is in love with Blair, has been in love with Blair and never said a word about it. And he had to know, when it was published, that everyone would know. Serena and Nate and – and Blair and Blair's fiancée and Chuck. Dan agreed to spill out everything and then he let Nate read it and now Nate's got a mental image of himself sucking Dan off.
First it's his hand on my belt, then his hand on my skin, and the whole time I'm thinking of how much sense this doesn't make and how long it's been since the last time I was with Stella. I'm half thinking about her when he takes me in his mouth but then it's hard to think of anything.
I curl my hands in Brandon's hair.
When Nate finishes the novel he and Dan get coffee.
"You read the whole thing?" Dan says, kind of disbelieving. "And we're still talking and everything?"
Nate makes a noncommittal noise and sips his coffee. "I finished," he confirms.
Dan watches him for any change of expression. "And?"
"I liked it," Nate says. "Also, there was that whole me-blowing-you thing." Dan chokes on his mouthful of latte. Nate watches him calmly. "It kind of seemed like…"
"It was a little gratuitous?" Dan suggests.
"Jerk off material," Nate finishes.
Dan snorts, but he's gone red. He gives Nate one of those impossible to read looks. "It kind of was."
Nate hadn't really expected Dan to admit to it. He assumed he's get another round of it's fiction. "It was?"
Dan meets his eyes briefly before refocusing on the table. "In high school, for about a minute."
"You never –"
"What was I going to say?" Dan raises an eyebrow. "'You gave me a sexuality crisis for two weeks when I was seventeen'? And anyway, I haven't thought about it since then."
"Why's it in the book then?"
Dan opens his mouth, shuts it. "Not everything has a deeper meaning."
"Your comments on my English papers for the last three years kind of go against that idea."
Dan smiles a little. "Well, I was wrong then. It doesn't mean anything."
Nate frowns. "What about Jack and Tracy? Does that mean nothing too?"
Dan's smile dims considerably. "It's fiction, Nate. Let's leave it at that."
The thing is, Nate can't leave it at that. Inside stays on his bedside table for a week and he's unable to avoid it (avoid page one-twenty, in particular).
He tries to remember if he ever caught Dan looking at him strangely, but he can't come up with any instances. Nothing inappropriate. Nothing less-than-innocent.
(his wet mouth)
All those nights they'd stayed up together, Dan trying to get Nate to read this book or watch this movie, heating up leftovers for Nate if he said he was hungry. There's this shadow now, this thought that maybe that whole time Dan wanted him. Maybe when Nate retired to the couch and Dan went back to his room, Dan would think about Nate and -
(his wet mouth under mine, soft like I thought)
And maybe Dan would've watched the shape Nate's lips took around a joint and gotten hard right there in the kitchen, hid himself behind the island that separated them.
(when he takes me in his mouth, his wet mouth)
Nate thrusts into his own fist, muffles his groan with his free hand. He thinks of Dan, his hair shorter like it used to be, and Dan's half smiles, like he can't decide if he's amused or not.
(I curl my hands in his hair)
Nate thinks of Dan and wonders why Dan stopped thinking about him.
Nate's not very good at not acting on his desires, so the next time he sees Dan he kisses him. Dan's lips part in surprise and he breathes out half of Nate's name before he backs Nate against the closed door of the loft, kissing him hard. Nate's arms snake around Dan's waist to yank him closer. "Is this what you wanted?" he murmurs. "Is it?"
Dan pulls back slightly (his mouth is flushed) and says, "I don't even know what I wanted."
"You do," Nate says, sliding lips and teeth along Dan's jaw. "You wrote it."
"Yeah, but it's –" Dan kisses him again, his hands on either side of Nate's head. "It's different, I didn't realize –"
Nate fists a hand in the back of Dan's shirt and pushes off from the door, propels Dan backwards. It's a stumbling walk to Dan's bedroom; they knock into a chair, the table, and Dan's doorframe; Nate refuses to stop kissing Dan so he can see where's going and, anyway, he's too distracted by Dan trying to get his jeans open.
"You dating anyone right now?" Dan asks, tugging at the hem of Nate's shirt to pull it over his head. "Should I feel guilty about this?"
"No," Nate laughs, "Should I?"
Dan shakes his head, smiling, and Nate takes the opportunity to kiss him again.
"You might be the only person who's still speaking to me," Dan says. They lay slightly squished, side-by-side in Dan's bed.
Nate passes him a joint. "Yeah?"
"Serena's anger because of the Blair thing," Dan says. "And I'm pretty sure Blair's pretending it – and I – do not exist."
"She hasn't said anything?" Nate asks, sort of surprised. It's not unlike Blair to go into Denial Mode, but he'd assumed the romance of Dan writing a book for her would've had some affect.
Dan shakes his head. With forceful nonchalance, he says, "She doesn't want me anyway."
"You love her?" Nate keeps his eyes on the ceiling, ignores the passing twinge of jealousy.
Dan passes the joint back. "I think so."
The jealousy's a little harder to ignore when he says that. Nate deposits the spliff in an ashtray next to Dan's bed (wondering in passing at the pack of cigarettes he didn't know Dan smoked) and leans into Dan's side, tries to reclaim Dan's attention. "Sorry," Nate murmurs.
The corner of Dan's mouth tilts up a little and he shifts so they can kiss again. "I don't think anyone's ever died from it," he says.
Nate's not really sure what Dan means, so he just says, "I'm not really that sorry."
Dan's smile widens. "I figured."
Pairing: Dan/Nate. Tiniest bit of Dan/Blair.
Rating/Word Count: R // 1624
Summary: It's with some trepidation, the scene starts, that I touch his knee.
Note: Yeah, when it comes to naming their alter-egos, IDK either. And really, this fic - I had to do it. Had to. Those spoilers were like asking me personally to do it. Also the title comes, lolzily enough, from one of my school textbooks.
Nate remembers saying, when they'd found out about the book, "They want to publish you. And dude, I'm sure it's great. So it pisses some people off, whatever."
It wasn't like he'd stop being friends with Dan over a book. A book Dan hadn't even wanted to put out there until Vanessa made the decision for him.
Dan gave him an indecipherable look and said, not for the first time, "I'll think about it."
Nate reads Dan's book because it's Dan's. Even so, it feels a little too personal. Nate already knows all of it just by virtue of being Dan's friend but that's an entirely different thing than seeing it how Dan sees it, having Dan's feelings printed out in black and white.
Then, about a third of the way through, he gets to the scene.
Nate stares at the page.
It's with some trepidation, the scene starts, that I touch his knee.
The scene is quick and, Nate discovers as he continues, it has little to no bearing on anything that comes after. There's no buildup to it. It's still the story of a bunch of rich kids, of being in love with two very different girls, or losing some part of yourself and becoming someone else. The scene is just there, isolated and strange and seemingly inconsequential.
But it's there, it exists, Nate reads it like twenty times. Dan is always harping on literary meaning and the tiniest things having the most significance and this? Definitely not a tiny thing.
It's in the period of time when Brandon lives with Jack (after kissing Jack's sister but before fucking his mother). It starts off familiar enough. Nate remembers staying up plenty of late nights with Dan, smoking or complaining, Dan making him food. In the book Brandon goes through his (Nate's) familial sob story in a way Nate probably never would.
Then not-Nate goes down on not-Dan.
He calls Dan up just to be sure. "I'm Brandon, right?" he says. "In the book. That's supposed to be me."
"It's fiction," Dan says carefully, like he's been saying it a lot lately. "Just fiction." He pauses. "How far are you?"
"Chapter three," Nate lies.
"Oh. Okay. Remember, as you proceed…it's just fiction."
His tongue flicks out over his bottom lip and I can't help but follow its motion, stare at his wet mouth. When I meet his eyes he's already looking at me and then there's Brandon's mouth under mine, unmoving but soft like I thought and his smells like weed and smoke and soap and I just hope my sister doesn't wander in for a midnight glass of water. His hands come up just as I start to pull away; he starts to say my name but doesn't finish.
Nate stays up reading, tucked away in a corner of the kitchen of his new one bedroom apartment. It's the brightest room and the least comfortable so it keeps him awake.
Nate's about halfway through when he realizes Dan is in love with Blair. Until that point the driving triangle had been Jack-Stella-Brandon until, out of nowhere, Tracy stopped being a snarky supporting character and blew the whole thing to bits.
It's the best part of the book. Nate doesn't read a lot, but even he can tell. That doesn't matter, though – what matters is that Dan is in love with Blair, has been in love with Blair and never said a word about it. And he had to know, when it was published, that everyone would know. Serena and Nate and – and Blair and Blair's fiancée and Chuck. Dan agreed to spill out everything and then he let Nate read it and now Nate's got a mental image of himself sucking Dan off.
First it's his hand on my belt, then his hand on my skin, and the whole time I'm thinking of how much sense this doesn't make and how long it's been since the last time I was with Stella. I'm half thinking about her when he takes me in his mouth but then it's hard to think of anything.
I curl my hands in Brandon's hair.
When Nate finishes the novel he and Dan get coffee.
"You read the whole thing?" Dan says, kind of disbelieving. "And we're still talking and everything?"
Nate makes a noncommittal noise and sips his coffee. "I finished," he confirms.
Dan watches him for any change of expression. "And?"
"I liked it," Nate says. "Also, there was that whole me-blowing-you thing." Dan chokes on his mouthful of latte. Nate watches him calmly. "It kind of seemed like…"
"It was a little gratuitous?" Dan suggests.
"Jerk off material," Nate finishes.
Dan snorts, but he's gone red. He gives Nate one of those impossible to read looks. "It kind of was."
Nate hadn't really expected Dan to admit to it. He assumed he's get another round of it's fiction. "It was?"
Dan meets his eyes briefly before refocusing on the table. "In high school, for about a minute."
"You never –"
"What was I going to say?" Dan raises an eyebrow. "'You gave me a sexuality crisis for two weeks when I was seventeen'? And anyway, I haven't thought about it since then."
"Why's it in the book then?"
Dan opens his mouth, shuts it. "Not everything has a deeper meaning."
"Your comments on my English papers for the last three years kind of go against that idea."
Dan smiles a little. "Well, I was wrong then. It doesn't mean anything."
Nate frowns. "What about Jack and Tracy? Does that mean nothing too?"
Dan's smile dims considerably. "It's fiction, Nate. Let's leave it at that."
The thing is, Nate can't leave it at that. Inside stays on his bedside table for a week and he's unable to avoid it (avoid page one-twenty, in particular).
He tries to remember if he ever caught Dan looking at him strangely, but he can't come up with any instances. Nothing inappropriate. Nothing less-than-innocent.
(his wet mouth)
All those nights they'd stayed up together, Dan trying to get Nate to read this book or watch this movie, heating up leftovers for Nate if he said he was hungry. There's this shadow now, this thought that maybe that whole time Dan wanted him. Maybe when Nate retired to the couch and Dan went back to his room, Dan would think about Nate and -
(his wet mouth under mine, soft like I thought)
And maybe Dan would've watched the shape Nate's lips took around a joint and gotten hard right there in the kitchen, hid himself behind the island that separated them.
(when he takes me in his mouth, his wet mouth)
Nate thrusts into his own fist, muffles his groan with his free hand. He thinks of Dan, his hair shorter like it used to be, and Dan's half smiles, like he can't decide if he's amused or not.
(I curl my hands in his hair)
Nate thinks of Dan and wonders why Dan stopped thinking about him.
Nate's not very good at not acting on his desires, so the next time he sees Dan he kisses him. Dan's lips part in surprise and he breathes out half of Nate's name before he backs Nate against the closed door of the loft, kissing him hard. Nate's arms snake around Dan's waist to yank him closer. "Is this what you wanted?" he murmurs. "Is it?"
Dan pulls back slightly (his mouth is flushed) and says, "I don't even know what I wanted."
"You do," Nate says, sliding lips and teeth along Dan's jaw. "You wrote it."
"Yeah, but it's –" Dan kisses him again, his hands on either side of Nate's head. "It's different, I didn't realize –"
Nate fists a hand in the back of Dan's shirt and pushes off from the door, propels Dan backwards. It's a stumbling walk to Dan's bedroom; they knock into a chair, the table, and Dan's doorframe; Nate refuses to stop kissing Dan so he can see where's going and, anyway, he's too distracted by Dan trying to get his jeans open.
"You dating anyone right now?" Dan asks, tugging at the hem of Nate's shirt to pull it over his head. "Should I feel guilty about this?"
"No," Nate laughs, "Should I?"
Dan shakes his head, smiling, and Nate takes the opportunity to kiss him again.
"You might be the only person who's still speaking to me," Dan says. They lay slightly squished, side-by-side in Dan's bed.
Nate passes him a joint. "Yeah?"
"Serena's anger because of the Blair thing," Dan says. "And I'm pretty sure Blair's pretending it – and I – do not exist."
"She hasn't said anything?" Nate asks, sort of surprised. It's not unlike Blair to go into Denial Mode, but he'd assumed the romance of Dan writing a book for her would've had some affect.
Dan shakes his head. With forceful nonchalance, he says, "She doesn't want me anyway."
"You love her?" Nate keeps his eyes on the ceiling, ignores the passing twinge of jealousy.
Dan passes the joint back. "I think so."
The jealousy's a little harder to ignore when he says that. Nate deposits the spliff in an ashtray next to Dan's bed (wondering in passing at the pack of cigarettes he didn't know Dan smoked) and leans into Dan's side, tries to reclaim Dan's attention. "Sorry," Nate murmurs.
The corner of Dan's mouth tilts up a little and he shifts so they can kiss again. "I don't think anyone's ever died from it," he says.
Nate's not really sure what Dan means, so he just says, "I'm not really that sorry."
Dan's smile widens. "I figured."