other stuff
dan/serena. r. 5k words. set in s1.
summary: Serena has never been conscious of somebody else's limits before; she's not sure anyone's been quite so conscious of hers.
note: some fluffporn, which is apparently all I am capable of writing anymore. set from around 1x05 to after 1x11.
I must say, Dan has been surprisingly good at everything we've done.
Which is…? Everything?
No! But feel free to ask any personal questions.
Finding out Dan is a good kisser is a huge relief for Serena.
Not that she expected him to be a bad kisser. She just assumed he hadn't necessarily done much in the way of kissing, considering he hadn't ever had a girlfriend – but then again, she'd never had a boyfriend and she was about as far from unkissed as a girl could get.
It was just that she wanted him to be good so badly. It was totally normal to have a healthy amount of worry; at least that was what she gleaned from Blair's advice on the matter.
"You haven't even kissed him yet?" Blair had leveled her with one of those you are absurd looks she was so good at, like Serena was wearing a teapot on her head or something. "I wouldn't get too attached, S. He practically has 'virgin' tattooed on his forehead, I bet it'll be a disaster." (Serena was a good friend, so she kindly refrained from pointing out that Blair was also a virgin.)
The trouble was Serena was already attached. But it turned out that healthy amount of worry was all for nothing, because Dan is a fantastic kisser.
Dan also likes to kiss probably more than anyone she's been with; or, at least, he doesn't kiss her like he's waiting for the next step, like this is a thing he has to do to get under her skirt. Dan doesn't even try to get under her skirt. Kissing seems to be a more than acceptable endgame for him.
They're on his bed while his family's out, after school and still in uniform, though Dan's tie is missing and so is Serena's sweater. He has one leg between hers and his hand is smoothing over her thigh repeatedly, though he's sticking to the exposed skin between the hem of her skirt and top of her kneesock.
"Who was your first kiss?" Serena murmurs, soft and curious, ignoring the steady thrumming of her heart that wants to hear you were.
"Uh…" Dan laughs a little, looking uncertain, like maybe he's not supposed to talk about another girl to her. "Her name was Melody. We were, um. Twelve, I think? She was the kid of this guy in my dad's band." His eyebrow lifts slightly, interested. "Who was yours?"
Serena suppresses a tiny smile though a little bit of a giggle slips out anyway when she answers, "Blair," and watches his eyes go dinner-plate-size. "Don't tell," Serena adds in a whisper, leaning back in to kiss his parted lips, enjoying his little overwhelmed huff before he kisses back.
Serena has never been conscious of somebody else's limits before; she's not sure anyone's been quite so conscious of hers. It's not just that Dan doesn't do anything without asking her first – he doesn't even ask, some combination of insecurity and courtesy keeping the words from his lips even as it pushes them to hers. "Can I?" she asks, and waits for an affirmative reply before unbuttoning his shirt, and, "Will you?" so he'll put his hand under hers.
"It's okay, I promise," Serena says, a little impatient, as kisses get quicker and rougher, her whole body arching up into Dan. She wants to wrap herself around him, all her limbs, like an eager octopus. She brings her knees up around his waist and feels Dan move into the space between, a rush of breath escaping him, a nervous flexing of his fingers against her lower back.
Serena strokes his cheeks with both hands, her mouth insistent against his. "It's okay," she says again. "I want you to touch me. Here."
She tugs her own shirt buttons free, letting it fall open over her thin camisole, her hot pink bra just barely showing through. She moves to pull the cami untucked but Dan stills her hands and sits up between her legs, holding her up slightly so he can help her arms out of the shirt and get the camisole over her head. They both laugh when it gets caught first in her earring, then in her hair, and Dan untangles her each time.
His hands skim over her waist as he leans down to kiss her. Dan's lips always seem to fit just right with hers, never landing awkwardly or bumping noses. He has a way of kissing that reminds Serena of how he talks: earnest, usually, and intent and deep, sometimes a little teasing. She thinks she likes it best when he smiles into her mouth, or laughs. He kisses her like there's nothing else he ever wants to do.
She catches his bottom lip between hers, gives him a gentle nip, and lets her legs fall apart further, tips her hips up against his. His shirt's open halfway and she relishes the press of skin to skin, however brief. He still seems to be holding back a little, dipping down to kiss her, long kisses that she could sink right into, but otherwise keeping himself separate.
"What? What is it?" she says, wanting to get his shirt off the rest of the way, wanting more.
"Nothing, I'm just…" Dan swallows, flustered maybe, and looks down for a quick second; Serena follows the look and laughs, though that seems to make him more nervous.
Mouth on his once more, she says, "That's a good thing; kind of means the kissing's working."
Dan laughs a little. "I don't want to be, like, the creep with the erection pressed up against you."
"But what if that's what I want?" Serena arches, slips her hands down to his ass. "What if that's really, really what I want?"
He laughs again but this time finally lets his weight settle on her. She can feel him then, hard against her, and her body answers his desperately, pulse fluttering every time their lips meet. They start moving in an imperfect, unpracticed rhythm; Serena kisses his jaw, a hint of stubble under her lips. Dan's touch trails over her legs and arms and sides until finally he gropes her through her bra, bright pink satin with a lace overlay and a price tag that would shock him. She started wearing good lingerie to school under her uniform in the hopes that after class Dan would get to see it.
His breath stutters against her cheek as he rubs her nipple through the lace, feels it tighten. It's not just you, she wants to say. It's not just you being driven crazy. "Here too," she says with sudden determination, taking one of his hands and putting it between her legs. "You can touch me here too."
She thinks it might be too much for Dan, hesitant as he generally is, but the surprise fades from his body before it fades from his face. He strokes over her panties (pink lace to match), learning the way she feels with his fingertips. Serena knows she's wet and wonders if he can feel that too.
Serena lets herself learn him by touch right back: nails over his lovely shoulders, hands on his chest and the stomach that contracts under her fingers, and finally the hard shape of him through his uniform pants. Not bad, she thinks with another silly rush of relief. Not bad at all.
Lazy Sunday studying devolves quickly into lazy Sunday kissing. Dan has come over to help Serena with her English paper, but she can't help deviating from the plan: his serious, furrowed-brow concentration demands a kiss. And when he smiles, caught between wanting to kiss back and his studious dedication, it demands another.
Eventually they end up stretched across her bed, Dan's hand under her loose white t-shirt; he doesn't need quite as much prodding anymore. Serena admits to teasing a little today, not wearing a bra and pressing against him a lot, leaning farther every time his eyes dropped to the low V-neck of her shirt. But it's to his credit, she thinks, that he's starting to take her at her word, that he's no longer nervous about touching her.
"God, you're so beautiful," Dan says. It isn't the first time she's heard that from him but he says it like it's a revelation each time. His mouth is soft over her throat, down along the neckline of her shirt, briefly pressed to her hard nipple through the cotton while the hand underneath teases.
Two pairs of jeans make things more difficult in terms of sensation but Serena isn't exactly complaining; the seam is pressing against her in just the right way and she can't stop fidgeting, especially when Dan's hand slides between them to palm her, the heel of his hand grinding against her.
Dan came like this once, rocking against her through their clothes. Serena hadn't minded but he'd been so embarrassed that ever since they've avoided crossing the line, instead breaking apart to lay next too each other breathing too hard until they can function again. They're getting close to that point now, Serena can tell.
Dan pushes her shirt up so he can trail his mouth over the curve of one breast, tongue tracing around her nipple. He kisses the flat plane between her tits and moves over to the other, his teeth gentle and daring. She's still rubbing against his hand, the seam of her jeans, but she wants more like always – though before she can speak, Dan does.
"Can I…" He trails off, biting his lip, and lays his hand on her stomach. "Can I touch you – uh, you know –"
Serena can only imagine how she looks, on her back with her shirt rucked up, hair messy and undone, but she know how she feels, thrumming with tension. "Yeah," she breathes. "Yes."
The look he gives her then is near-wistful. He keeps his eyes on hers as he opens her jeans and slips his hand in. Her underwear is damp and clinging; Dan has touched her like this before, through her panties, and to Serena it's almost innocent in a bizarre way, keeping the thinnest of barriers between them. But now he nudges the fabric aside and for the first time touches her.
They both suck in a breath, Dan's gaze dropping down to where his hand disappears into her jeans. His fingers just slide over her at first, gently stroking. She can feel his erection pressing into her hip but he seems unconcerned for now, focusing instead on slipping one finger along her folds. The newness of doing this with Dan is enough to make Serena's skin prickle, but when his lips part, tongue swiping out to wet the bottom one, her anticipation is a painful thing in her chest.
He surprises her by locating her clit almost immediately, and it must show in her expression because he laughs. "I have looked some stuff up," Dan says, a touch smugly.
Serena snorts, which is probably not very sexy, and yanks him down for a kiss. "You trying to earn an A plus?"
"I hope," he murmurs, fingers working tentatively. His mouth lowers to press just underneath her ear, sucking lightly.
Serena wriggles a little, regretting her constricting jeans. The pressure on her clit is good but not enough, and a little too dry – she should tell Dan. He likes to know these things so he can do his best. But when she opens her mouth what comes out, breathier than she expected, is, "You can – um, put your fingers inside. Too."
Dan sucks in a breath. "Right."
He tries, hand moving too-slow and overly-cautious, but instead of the easy slide inside Serena is hoping for, he just sort of…pokes her. Serena gives him a minute but when his fumbling does not become more successful, she's unable to keep a slight wince from her face.
Dan's brows knit. "Uh, can you, uh, show me, maybe…"
He looks so disappointed with himself that Serena can't help a giggle – not laughing at him, exactly, but not not laughing at him either. It's just too impossibly sweet, how much he wants to be good for her. "It's not the end of the world," she teases him. "It's really not that – It's okay, just be…gentle, right?"
She finally shoves her jeans down her legs, kicking them off and delighting a little in Dan's widened eyes. This is the most naked she's ever been with him but it just feels natural – not that Serena has ever really been one to be self-conscious without her clothes on.
She covers his hand with hers, bringing it back between her legs, directing him as she lets her head fall back and her eyes close. She tries to concentrate so she can get things going a little and falls back on an old reliable as their hands glide together over her pussy: the beach, maybe, on a blanket at night with the waves in the background – no, day would be better, thinking of the hot sun on her skin, that dreamy feeling that comes with being overheated, suffused in all that light. Usually in the fantasy she's just touching herself, sometimes wearing a bikini or a flimsy sundress tugged off one shoulder, but always with someone watching her breathlessly. Sometimes the someone is a person she knows, Blair or Carter, but sometimes it's a lot of people, strangers.
She releases Dan once it seems like he's got the swing of it, her hands coming up to cup her breasts, toy with her nipples. She keeps her eyes shut while she thinks of lots and lots of eyes on her – her in public doing something she's not supposed to be doing –
"Oh, shit," Dan breathes, at what must be the first wet rush against his fingers. She can feel it, everything suddenly easy and slick. "Wow."
It makes her laugh, palms against his cheeks. "You're just – you're so cute," she tries to explain. He smiles, sweet and crinkly, and that demands a kiss too.
Serena drags Dan home from school with her most days, keeping him late and then sending him back to Brooklyn in a hired towncar, the acceptance of which is determined by how tired he is (he usually takes the car, but he pouts about it). Today she makes him skip his last class because she's still hyped from a lacrosse victory in gym, too hyped to sit through her final class of the day: algebra, made almost too easy to skip thanks to its schedule placement.
Getting Perfect Attendance Dan to skip a class or two is a tiny victory Serena wouldn't trade for anything.
She deposits him in her bedroom with magazine and laptop access while she goes into the ensuite bathroom for a quick shower. She's a little sweaty and gross, hair in a fall-down ponytail with strands sticking to her cheeks. She strips off, kicking her gym clothes into a heap, and tugs her hairband free. She looks at herself in the mirror for a long second and then looks at the door, beyond which Dan waits, wasting time.
It isn't a difficult decision to make.
She wraps a white towel around herself before poking head and shoulders out into her bedroom. "Hey," she says, casually. "I was thinking. You sort of look like you could use a shower yourself."
Dan had been flipping through Vogue with a perplexed expression, but at the sound of her voice it shifts into playfulness. "You thought so, huh."
Serena nods solemnly. "And there's really no reason to waste water, so I thought I might invite you to mine."
Dan smiles but doesn't get up just yet. First he asks, "You sure?"
"More than," Serena answers without missing a beat.
She gets the water going, steam filling the room as Dan shuts the door, his hands already at his buttons. "Should we talk about, uh," he starts, a touch of anxiousness in it, "like, how far we're going to –"
"Dan," Serena says firmly, raising her eyebrow slightly. "We're taking a shower. Don't overthink it. And take off your pants."
She flits around the bathroom checking the water temperature and putting on music and trying to not to straight-up watch Dan get undressed like she really wants to do. He can be shy, she knows from experience, and she wants him to be comfortable. But she also really wants to look.
Finally, seeming amused, Dan steps up beside her and kisses her shoulder, hands on her towel. A minute later it's on the ground and they're in the water, a dizzy-hot cocoon of steam.
She stands behind him in the spray, nearly his height, and rubs the soapy shower puff over his back, thinking about how he'll smell like her, her body wash and her shampoo. She's given Dan a lot of her body but not taken much advantage of his. She touches him everywhere, his arms and sides, his slightly jutting hipbones, his flat stomach, small nipples, skinny thighs. She just wraps him up in her arms and feels him breathe, awaiting her next move. He doesn't have a lot of marks on his body: no scars, no bruises, no stray dark brown freckles. Untouched, she thinks.
Serena kisses the back of his neck as her hand curls around the base of his cock. He blows his breath out slow, pacing himself. She runs her fingers over him very lightly, getting a sense of how he feels in her grasp, tracing veins and listening to every little huff and sigh of breath.
One of Dan's hands braces flat on the white tile in front of them, and Serena can't help trailing a touch along the strong line of his arm. His head tips back against her shoulder, wet hair tickling her cheek, his eyes closed and mouth open. The shower spray hits him square in the chest, a little reddened patch of skin.
Serena turns her face against his, kissing his cheek and jaw. "You feel good," she tells him.
He has his lower lip between his teeth, but he releases it to say, "You're not getting much out of it."
Serena's brows draw together slightly and she leans up to kiss his open mouth. "I'm getting a lot out of it," she says. It isn't a lie. Serena's boy-craziness has been exaggerated to legendary proportions but at the end of the day she can't help the way they do drive her crazy: wide shoulders and sharp collarbones, prickly jaws and flat chests, slim waists and slim hips. With Dan it's his nice hands, bony wrists, the vein that runs along his forearm. It's his nose, his eyes, his lips. It's his dick in her hand, his gasps close to her mouth.
"Turn around and kiss me," she says, so he does, water spilling over both of them. His hands are all over her body immediately, curling against the curve of her ass and bringing her close, so close they're pressed together and she doesn't have much room to manipulate her hand – but it doesn't matter because Dan comes with teenage boy abruptness, evidence of it washed from her skin almost as quick.
He breathes against her throat, kisses her skin.
"Wash my hair?" she asks hopefully.
His laugh is quiet, more air than sound. "Least I can do."
He falls asleep in her bed later, redressed but still damp. Serena, in pajamas now, lays awake. She lets her fingers sink into his hair, still wet and slightly curling. He'd said he had curly hair but it's too short to really tell and she likes the idea of a silly little mystery between them. She wonders what his family will say when he shows up with wet hair, wonders if she could keep him here, dozing next to her, for a whole night.
She wonders at wanting to keep him for a whole night.
After the sex-that-wasn't, Serena had harbored a tiny fear that maybe Dan wouldn't continue being so patient – that his niceness and understanding had a limit, and any day she would reach it. But it was irrational; Dan genuinely didn't seem to care that she wanted to wait, and if he felt otherwise, he'd probably say so. That was one good thing about Dan, that he never kept stuff like that to himself. If he felt something, she was bound to hear about it sooner rather than later. And Serena likes that. She likes to know these things so she can do her best, so she can be better than before.
And one day he says, "I want to go down on you," point-blank, not even bothering to lower his voice for decency.
They're not even kissing, they're not even – nothing sexy is happening, Serena isn't trying to turn it on, it's just normal. They're having coffee together Saturday morning and Serena is reading a novella she bought at the used bookstore Dan likes. She thinks he's reading too until she realizes he's just looking at her. Her smile is a quick quirk of self-consciousness and her eyebrows lift, questioning. And then he says it.
Serena feels the words all the way down to her toes but she still jokes, "What, right here?"
"Dad's going in to the gallery at one," Dan says.
Serena worries her lip, fights a smile. "Jenny?"
"With your good friend Blair, being made to feel insecure and lacking in self worth," he sums up neatly.
Serena gives that a fond roll of the eyes.
"So?" Dan prompts, book closed now, leaning forward. "Can I?"
Half an hour later finds her on her back on Dan's bed, tights peeled off and dress twisted up, blue-and-pink floral panties dropped on the floor. His cheap jersey sheets are soft under her hands and hips, slept-in and well-used. She pushes up on her elbows, looking at Dan looking at her, which is what he's been doing for the last minute or longer, touching her lightly and just looking.
"Dan," she prods.
"Huh? Oh. Sorry." The look he gives her is slightly sheepish but also strangely heated, and she feels her stomach clench pleasurably. "I've never really been up close before. Uh, obviously."
Serena laughs, nose wrinkling. "It's not much to look at."
"I think it's beautiful," Dan says, in that Dan way he has that makes her skin tingle, before he leans in to press a kiss to her pussy. "Will you tell me what to do? What you like?"
She rubs a hand affectionately through his hair, ruffling it. "You're good with your hands," she says. "Now add your mouth."
Dan gives her a wry smile and lowers his head.
Serena always liked Dan's mouth; it was one of the first things she noticed about him, one of first things that comes to her mind when she thinks about him. She likes the shape of it, likes that he knows when to be soft and when to be firm. She likes his mouth that has proved to be naturally very good at kissing but spends most of its time talking, saying weird things and interesting things and sort of mean things, too.
Now his mouth moves gently over her, not hesitant but building anticipation. He tugs her a little closer to the edge of the bed, which he's kneeling beside, hands wrapping around her thighs. Serena has found herself a little shy with Dan since the sex-that-wasn't, but she isn't sure it has anything to do with him, really. That twinge of vulnerability is in her whenever they touch now, and it's good but it's scary too.
His nose nudges against her lightly, oddly a little cold, and then his tongue parts her folds, dragging slowly upwards, flat as it passes over her clit. He keeps the pace hurried. Serena isn't sure if it's an attempt at technique or if he's just unsure but either way it works for her, warm bursts of sensation washing through her like waves. Shallow waves, still, but very promising ones.
"You'll tell me, right?" Dan's voice is low, a sweet hum against her. "What feels good?"
"It's all good," Serena says, maybe impatiently, as she threads her fingers through his hair. "Keep going."
His lips close around her clit, sucking while his tongue flicks against it, and Serena gasps.
"Did you do more research or something?" she breathes, honestly curious, and feels Dan's silent laughter, his face turned into her thigh, before a little bump from her leg redirects his attention. He keeps it up insistently, the sucking and flicking, a few long slow licks, and then he slips his fingers into her.
"Oh, that's good," Serena moans, pressing his head against her, "That's so good, that's –"
He picks up the pace a little, tongue quick against her clit as his fingers curl slightly, his free hand gripping her ass. Serena pulls her knees up a little, holds her legs farther apart, arching against his mouth and clutching his hair way too tightly.
"Dan, Dan," she says, head thrown back, "Dan, I think –"
Her toes curl, her hands fist in the sheets, and her body is a tight arch, everything focused on Dan. The moan that pulls its way from her throat is more of a cry, sharp and sudden and so good. Her pulse flutters and flutters and she thinks Dan must feel it under his tongue, still working against her.
"Oh, Dan," she murmurs, stroking his hair, the back of his neck, his ears, his jaw. "Dan, that was really good."
"See, you make fun of me," he says, and then kisses her thigh. "But research helps."
Christmas cheer has given way to the usual New Year letdown, all quickly broken resolutions and January chill. In the past, Serena has spent the entire post-holiday season pretty out of it, emerging sometime around spring to fumble through exams and plan summer vacation.
This year is different.
She and Dan spend all of winter break finding excuses to get wrapped up in each other, a feat made much more difficult by the return to school. They try to work around it: back to kissing in the courtyard, rushing back to her empty apartment after school. Serena sends Dan increasingly filthy texts throughout the school day until he has to turn off his phone. But some days require a few stolen moments.
She whisks him away after third period, Dan protesting that he has class but with a smile on his face that belies the objection. She drags him up and up and up the stairs, uses her key (Serena always has a key) to get the door to the roof open and pushes him into the February cold.
"Oh no, too cold, way too cold," Dan says, but he lets Serena keep pulling him along.
"You'll be warm in a minute." She leans back against the brick of the building, eyebrow quirking cheesily, and tugs Dan against her, arm looping around his neck. "Give me your hand."
She presses his hand under her skirt, between her legs, and smiles at his soft swearing; she'd slipped her panties off in the bathroom right before coming to get him, shoved them into the side pocket of her purse. He's confident and unhesitating now, knows from months of practice where and how to touch her. The slide of his fingers is skilled. Serena bites her lip, keeping a quiet cry from escaping, and hooks one leg around his hips.
"Right here?" Dan asks. His nose brushes hers, lips moving over her face.
"Right here," Serena murmurs in confirmation. The breeze isn't strong but it's undoubtedly cold, whipping her hair into both of their faces, pinking their cheeks. Blair likes making fun of what she refers to as Serena's "exhibitionist streak," but there's just something she likes about having sex outside – not the getting caught aspect so much as it just feeling free, sun and wind and wide blue sky.
Dan is good to her, always making sure she's ready, every single time. Jackets had been left in lockers so she's only got a cardigan and thin shirt between herself and the elements; it's easy enough to untangle her tie, open buttons. Dan smiles before he bends to kiss along the lace-edged cup of her bra, his fingers inside her so careful. Serena scratches her nails luxuriously through his hair and kisses his temple – happy but not knowing what to do with it, with feeling so much.
She reaches for his zipper as they kiss, Dan giving a little shiver that could be cold or desire and laughing against her mouth. It edges over into a groan when her fingers curl around him.
"I don't," he breathes, "I don't have a condom."
Her Dan, always so responsible. Well, she's picking up tricks from him. "I do, it's okay."
A few moments later and he's easing into her. It's a discordant feeling, the cold bringing goosebumps to her skin while Dan makes her flushed and hot. Her hair is catching on the bricks. Her hands are pressed to Dan's cheeks as she kisses him and laughs because it's chilly and moans because it's so good, so impossibly good.
He's got one hand on the bricks and the other under her ass, telling her all kinds of nonsense, that she's beautiful and wonderful and she feels amazing, all that sex bullshit that, inexplicably, Dan actually means. His eyes close only in the brief, hurried moments when their lips meet; otherwise his eyes are on hers, dark brown and warm.
Sometimes she still wishes there hadn't been anyone but Dan, and sometimes it even feels like it.
Like right now: Serena has fucked plenty of boys in inconspicuous places but at the moment all of it pales, pales compared to Dan laughing and losing his balance and catching it again and cursing. Pales against giggly kisses passed between them and Dan's forehead pressed to hers.
Best of all is when Dan gets serious about it, holds her up with both hands and catches her mouth on every other thrust, his brow getting that solemn little crease. She knows she's the only one who has this part of Dan. She's the only one who has seen it. It belongs to her and she'll never have to share it, Dan's quiet moaning of her name before he comes, Dan's fingers finishing her off.
Owning things has never been important to Serena; she's not really possessive by nature. But there is a fierce protectiveness in her she can't deny and it wraps its hand around her heart whenever she thinks about Dan. They go back to class, Dan looking particularly dazed, and Serena doodles her way through English feeling not only the shivery tension of dissipated orgasm, not just the thrill of having broken some rule, but a bizarre and private kind of pride.
The best part is knowing that when she's sitting here thinking of Dan, he's out there thinking of her too.
dan/serena. r. 5k words. set in s1.
summary: Serena has never been conscious of somebody else's limits before; she's not sure anyone's been quite so conscious of hers.
note: some fluffporn, which is apparently all I am capable of writing anymore. set from around 1x05 to after 1x11.
I must say, Dan has been surprisingly good at everything we've done.
Which is…? Everything?
No! But feel free to ask any personal questions.
Finding out Dan is a good kisser is a huge relief for Serena.
Not that she expected him to be a bad kisser. She just assumed he hadn't necessarily done much in the way of kissing, considering he hadn't ever had a girlfriend – but then again, she'd never had a boyfriend and she was about as far from unkissed as a girl could get.
It was just that she wanted him to be good so badly. It was totally normal to have a healthy amount of worry; at least that was what she gleaned from Blair's advice on the matter.
"You haven't even kissed him yet?" Blair had leveled her with one of those you are absurd looks she was so good at, like Serena was wearing a teapot on her head or something. "I wouldn't get too attached, S. He practically has 'virgin' tattooed on his forehead, I bet it'll be a disaster." (Serena was a good friend, so she kindly refrained from pointing out that Blair was also a virgin.)
The trouble was Serena was already attached. But it turned out that healthy amount of worry was all for nothing, because Dan is a fantastic kisser.
Dan also likes to kiss probably more than anyone she's been with; or, at least, he doesn't kiss her like he's waiting for the next step, like this is a thing he has to do to get under her skirt. Dan doesn't even try to get under her skirt. Kissing seems to be a more than acceptable endgame for him.
They're on his bed while his family's out, after school and still in uniform, though Dan's tie is missing and so is Serena's sweater. He has one leg between hers and his hand is smoothing over her thigh repeatedly, though he's sticking to the exposed skin between the hem of her skirt and top of her kneesock.
"Who was your first kiss?" Serena murmurs, soft and curious, ignoring the steady thrumming of her heart that wants to hear you were.
"Uh…" Dan laughs a little, looking uncertain, like maybe he's not supposed to talk about another girl to her. "Her name was Melody. We were, um. Twelve, I think? She was the kid of this guy in my dad's band." His eyebrow lifts slightly, interested. "Who was yours?"
Serena suppresses a tiny smile though a little bit of a giggle slips out anyway when she answers, "Blair," and watches his eyes go dinner-plate-size. "Don't tell," Serena adds in a whisper, leaning back in to kiss his parted lips, enjoying his little overwhelmed huff before he kisses back.
Serena has never been conscious of somebody else's limits before; she's not sure anyone's been quite so conscious of hers. It's not just that Dan doesn't do anything without asking her first – he doesn't even ask, some combination of insecurity and courtesy keeping the words from his lips even as it pushes them to hers. "Can I?" she asks, and waits for an affirmative reply before unbuttoning his shirt, and, "Will you?" so he'll put his hand under hers.
"It's okay, I promise," Serena says, a little impatient, as kisses get quicker and rougher, her whole body arching up into Dan. She wants to wrap herself around him, all her limbs, like an eager octopus. She brings her knees up around his waist and feels Dan move into the space between, a rush of breath escaping him, a nervous flexing of his fingers against her lower back.
Serena strokes his cheeks with both hands, her mouth insistent against his. "It's okay," she says again. "I want you to touch me. Here."
She tugs her own shirt buttons free, letting it fall open over her thin camisole, her hot pink bra just barely showing through. She moves to pull the cami untucked but Dan stills her hands and sits up between her legs, holding her up slightly so he can help her arms out of the shirt and get the camisole over her head. They both laugh when it gets caught first in her earring, then in her hair, and Dan untangles her each time.
His hands skim over her waist as he leans down to kiss her. Dan's lips always seem to fit just right with hers, never landing awkwardly or bumping noses. He has a way of kissing that reminds Serena of how he talks: earnest, usually, and intent and deep, sometimes a little teasing. She thinks she likes it best when he smiles into her mouth, or laughs. He kisses her like there's nothing else he ever wants to do.
She catches his bottom lip between hers, gives him a gentle nip, and lets her legs fall apart further, tips her hips up against his. His shirt's open halfway and she relishes the press of skin to skin, however brief. He still seems to be holding back a little, dipping down to kiss her, long kisses that she could sink right into, but otherwise keeping himself separate.
"What? What is it?" she says, wanting to get his shirt off the rest of the way, wanting more.
"Nothing, I'm just…" Dan swallows, flustered maybe, and looks down for a quick second; Serena follows the look and laughs, though that seems to make him more nervous.
Mouth on his once more, she says, "That's a good thing; kind of means the kissing's working."
Dan laughs a little. "I don't want to be, like, the creep with the erection pressed up against you."
"But what if that's what I want?" Serena arches, slips her hands down to his ass. "What if that's really, really what I want?"
He laughs again but this time finally lets his weight settle on her. She can feel him then, hard against her, and her body answers his desperately, pulse fluttering every time their lips meet. They start moving in an imperfect, unpracticed rhythm; Serena kisses his jaw, a hint of stubble under her lips. Dan's touch trails over her legs and arms and sides until finally he gropes her through her bra, bright pink satin with a lace overlay and a price tag that would shock him. She started wearing good lingerie to school under her uniform in the hopes that after class Dan would get to see it.
His breath stutters against her cheek as he rubs her nipple through the lace, feels it tighten. It's not just you, she wants to say. It's not just you being driven crazy. "Here too," she says with sudden determination, taking one of his hands and putting it between her legs. "You can touch me here too."
She thinks it might be too much for Dan, hesitant as he generally is, but the surprise fades from his body before it fades from his face. He strokes over her panties (pink lace to match), learning the way she feels with his fingertips. Serena knows she's wet and wonders if he can feel that too.
Serena lets herself learn him by touch right back: nails over his lovely shoulders, hands on his chest and the stomach that contracts under her fingers, and finally the hard shape of him through his uniform pants. Not bad, she thinks with another silly rush of relief. Not bad at all.
Lazy Sunday studying devolves quickly into lazy Sunday kissing. Dan has come over to help Serena with her English paper, but she can't help deviating from the plan: his serious, furrowed-brow concentration demands a kiss. And when he smiles, caught between wanting to kiss back and his studious dedication, it demands another.
Eventually they end up stretched across her bed, Dan's hand under her loose white t-shirt; he doesn't need quite as much prodding anymore. Serena admits to teasing a little today, not wearing a bra and pressing against him a lot, leaning farther every time his eyes dropped to the low V-neck of her shirt. But it's to his credit, she thinks, that he's starting to take her at her word, that he's no longer nervous about touching her.
"God, you're so beautiful," Dan says. It isn't the first time she's heard that from him but he says it like it's a revelation each time. His mouth is soft over her throat, down along the neckline of her shirt, briefly pressed to her hard nipple through the cotton while the hand underneath teases.
Two pairs of jeans make things more difficult in terms of sensation but Serena isn't exactly complaining; the seam is pressing against her in just the right way and she can't stop fidgeting, especially when Dan's hand slides between them to palm her, the heel of his hand grinding against her.
Dan came like this once, rocking against her through their clothes. Serena hadn't minded but he'd been so embarrassed that ever since they've avoided crossing the line, instead breaking apart to lay next too each other breathing too hard until they can function again. They're getting close to that point now, Serena can tell.
Dan pushes her shirt up so he can trail his mouth over the curve of one breast, tongue tracing around her nipple. He kisses the flat plane between her tits and moves over to the other, his teeth gentle and daring. She's still rubbing against his hand, the seam of her jeans, but she wants more like always – though before she can speak, Dan does.
"Can I…" He trails off, biting his lip, and lays his hand on her stomach. "Can I touch you – uh, you know –"
Serena can only imagine how she looks, on her back with her shirt rucked up, hair messy and undone, but she know how she feels, thrumming with tension. "Yeah," she breathes. "Yes."
The look he gives her then is near-wistful. He keeps his eyes on hers as he opens her jeans and slips his hand in. Her underwear is damp and clinging; Dan has touched her like this before, through her panties, and to Serena it's almost innocent in a bizarre way, keeping the thinnest of barriers between them. But now he nudges the fabric aside and for the first time touches her.
They both suck in a breath, Dan's gaze dropping down to where his hand disappears into her jeans. His fingers just slide over her at first, gently stroking. She can feel his erection pressing into her hip but he seems unconcerned for now, focusing instead on slipping one finger along her folds. The newness of doing this with Dan is enough to make Serena's skin prickle, but when his lips part, tongue swiping out to wet the bottom one, her anticipation is a painful thing in her chest.
He surprises her by locating her clit almost immediately, and it must show in her expression because he laughs. "I have looked some stuff up," Dan says, a touch smugly.
Serena snorts, which is probably not very sexy, and yanks him down for a kiss. "You trying to earn an A plus?"
"I hope," he murmurs, fingers working tentatively. His mouth lowers to press just underneath her ear, sucking lightly.
Serena wriggles a little, regretting her constricting jeans. The pressure on her clit is good but not enough, and a little too dry – she should tell Dan. He likes to know these things so he can do his best. But when she opens her mouth what comes out, breathier than she expected, is, "You can – um, put your fingers inside. Too."
Dan sucks in a breath. "Right."
He tries, hand moving too-slow and overly-cautious, but instead of the easy slide inside Serena is hoping for, he just sort of…pokes her. Serena gives him a minute but when his fumbling does not become more successful, she's unable to keep a slight wince from her face.
Dan's brows knit. "Uh, can you, uh, show me, maybe…"
He looks so disappointed with himself that Serena can't help a giggle – not laughing at him, exactly, but not not laughing at him either. It's just too impossibly sweet, how much he wants to be good for her. "It's not the end of the world," she teases him. "It's really not that – It's okay, just be…gentle, right?"
She finally shoves her jeans down her legs, kicking them off and delighting a little in Dan's widened eyes. This is the most naked she's ever been with him but it just feels natural – not that Serena has ever really been one to be self-conscious without her clothes on.
She covers his hand with hers, bringing it back between her legs, directing him as she lets her head fall back and her eyes close. She tries to concentrate so she can get things going a little and falls back on an old reliable as their hands glide together over her pussy: the beach, maybe, on a blanket at night with the waves in the background – no, day would be better, thinking of the hot sun on her skin, that dreamy feeling that comes with being overheated, suffused in all that light. Usually in the fantasy she's just touching herself, sometimes wearing a bikini or a flimsy sundress tugged off one shoulder, but always with someone watching her breathlessly. Sometimes the someone is a person she knows, Blair or Carter, but sometimes it's a lot of people, strangers.
She releases Dan once it seems like he's got the swing of it, her hands coming up to cup her breasts, toy with her nipples. She keeps her eyes shut while she thinks of lots and lots of eyes on her – her in public doing something she's not supposed to be doing –
"Oh, shit," Dan breathes, at what must be the first wet rush against his fingers. She can feel it, everything suddenly easy and slick. "Wow."
It makes her laugh, palms against his cheeks. "You're just – you're so cute," she tries to explain. He smiles, sweet and crinkly, and that demands a kiss too.
Serena drags Dan home from school with her most days, keeping him late and then sending him back to Brooklyn in a hired towncar, the acceptance of which is determined by how tired he is (he usually takes the car, but he pouts about it). Today she makes him skip his last class because she's still hyped from a lacrosse victory in gym, too hyped to sit through her final class of the day: algebra, made almost too easy to skip thanks to its schedule placement.
Getting Perfect Attendance Dan to skip a class or two is a tiny victory Serena wouldn't trade for anything.
She deposits him in her bedroom with magazine and laptop access while she goes into the ensuite bathroom for a quick shower. She's a little sweaty and gross, hair in a fall-down ponytail with strands sticking to her cheeks. She strips off, kicking her gym clothes into a heap, and tugs her hairband free. She looks at herself in the mirror for a long second and then looks at the door, beyond which Dan waits, wasting time.
It isn't a difficult decision to make.
She wraps a white towel around herself before poking head and shoulders out into her bedroom. "Hey," she says, casually. "I was thinking. You sort of look like you could use a shower yourself."
Dan had been flipping through Vogue with a perplexed expression, but at the sound of her voice it shifts into playfulness. "You thought so, huh."
Serena nods solemnly. "And there's really no reason to waste water, so I thought I might invite you to mine."
Dan smiles but doesn't get up just yet. First he asks, "You sure?"
"More than," Serena answers without missing a beat.
She gets the water going, steam filling the room as Dan shuts the door, his hands already at his buttons. "Should we talk about, uh," he starts, a touch of anxiousness in it, "like, how far we're going to –"
"Dan," Serena says firmly, raising her eyebrow slightly. "We're taking a shower. Don't overthink it. And take off your pants."
She flits around the bathroom checking the water temperature and putting on music and trying to not to straight-up watch Dan get undressed like she really wants to do. He can be shy, she knows from experience, and she wants him to be comfortable. But she also really wants to look.
Finally, seeming amused, Dan steps up beside her and kisses her shoulder, hands on her towel. A minute later it's on the ground and they're in the water, a dizzy-hot cocoon of steam.
She stands behind him in the spray, nearly his height, and rubs the soapy shower puff over his back, thinking about how he'll smell like her, her body wash and her shampoo. She's given Dan a lot of her body but not taken much advantage of his. She touches him everywhere, his arms and sides, his slightly jutting hipbones, his flat stomach, small nipples, skinny thighs. She just wraps him up in her arms and feels him breathe, awaiting her next move. He doesn't have a lot of marks on his body: no scars, no bruises, no stray dark brown freckles. Untouched, she thinks.
Serena kisses the back of his neck as her hand curls around the base of his cock. He blows his breath out slow, pacing himself. She runs her fingers over him very lightly, getting a sense of how he feels in her grasp, tracing veins and listening to every little huff and sigh of breath.
One of Dan's hands braces flat on the white tile in front of them, and Serena can't help trailing a touch along the strong line of his arm. His head tips back against her shoulder, wet hair tickling her cheek, his eyes closed and mouth open. The shower spray hits him square in the chest, a little reddened patch of skin.
Serena turns her face against his, kissing his cheek and jaw. "You feel good," she tells him.
He has his lower lip between his teeth, but he releases it to say, "You're not getting much out of it."
Serena's brows draw together slightly and she leans up to kiss his open mouth. "I'm getting a lot out of it," she says. It isn't a lie. Serena's boy-craziness has been exaggerated to legendary proportions but at the end of the day she can't help the way they do drive her crazy: wide shoulders and sharp collarbones, prickly jaws and flat chests, slim waists and slim hips. With Dan it's his nice hands, bony wrists, the vein that runs along his forearm. It's his nose, his eyes, his lips. It's his dick in her hand, his gasps close to her mouth.
"Turn around and kiss me," she says, so he does, water spilling over both of them. His hands are all over her body immediately, curling against the curve of her ass and bringing her close, so close they're pressed together and she doesn't have much room to manipulate her hand – but it doesn't matter because Dan comes with teenage boy abruptness, evidence of it washed from her skin almost as quick.
He breathes against her throat, kisses her skin.
"Wash my hair?" she asks hopefully.
His laugh is quiet, more air than sound. "Least I can do."
He falls asleep in her bed later, redressed but still damp. Serena, in pajamas now, lays awake. She lets her fingers sink into his hair, still wet and slightly curling. He'd said he had curly hair but it's too short to really tell and she likes the idea of a silly little mystery between them. She wonders what his family will say when he shows up with wet hair, wonders if she could keep him here, dozing next to her, for a whole night.
She wonders at wanting to keep him for a whole night.
After the sex-that-wasn't, Serena had harbored a tiny fear that maybe Dan wouldn't continue being so patient – that his niceness and understanding had a limit, and any day she would reach it. But it was irrational; Dan genuinely didn't seem to care that she wanted to wait, and if he felt otherwise, he'd probably say so. That was one good thing about Dan, that he never kept stuff like that to himself. If he felt something, she was bound to hear about it sooner rather than later. And Serena likes that. She likes to know these things so she can do her best, so she can be better than before.
And one day he says, "I want to go down on you," point-blank, not even bothering to lower his voice for decency.
They're not even kissing, they're not even – nothing sexy is happening, Serena isn't trying to turn it on, it's just normal. They're having coffee together Saturday morning and Serena is reading a novella she bought at the used bookstore Dan likes. She thinks he's reading too until she realizes he's just looking at her. Her smile is a quick quirk of self-consciousness and her eyebrows lift, questioning. And then he says it.
Serena feels the words all the way down to her toes but she still jokes, "What, right here?"
"Dad's going in to the gallery at one," Dan says.
Serena worries her lip, fights a smile. "Jenny?"
"With your good friend Blair, being made to feel insecure and lacking in self worth," he sums up neatly.
Serena gives that a fond roll of the eyes.
"So?" Dan prompts, book closed now, leaning forward. "Can I?"
Half an hour later finds her on her back on Dan's bed, tights peeled off and dress twisted up, blue-and-pink floral panties dropped on the floor. His cheap jersey sheets are soft under her hands and hips, slept-in and well-used. She pushes up on her elbows, looking at Dan looking at her, which is what he's been doing for the last minute or longer, touching her lightly and just looking.
"Dan," she prods.
"Huh? Oh. Sorry." The look he gives her is slightly sheepish but also strangely heated, and she feels her stomach clench pleasurably. "I've never really been up close before. Uh, obviously."
Serena laughs, nose wrinkling. "It's not much to look at."
"I think it's beautiful," Dan says, in that Dan way he has that makes her skin tingle, before he leans in to press a kiss to her pussy. "Will you tell me what to do? What you like?"
She rubs a hand affectionately through his hair, ruffling it. "You're good with your hands," she says. "Now add your mouth."
Dan gives her a wry smile and lowers his head.
Serena always liked Dan's mouth; it was one of the first things she noticed about him, one of first things that comes to her mind when she thinks about him. She likes the shape of it, likes that he knows when to be soft and when to be firm. She likes his mouth that has proved to be naturally very good at kissing but spends most of its time talking, saying weird things and interesting things and sort of mean things, too.
Now his mouth moves gently over her, not hesitant but building anticipation. He tugs her a little closer to the edge of the bed, which he's kneeling beside, hands wrapping around her thighs. Serena has found herself a little shy with Dan since the sex-that-wasn't, but she isn't sure it has anything to do with him, really. That twinge of vulnerability is in her whenever they touch now, and it's good but it's scary too.
His nose nudges against her lightly, oddly a little cold, and then his tongue parts her folds, dragging slowly upwards, flat as it passes over her clit. He keeps the pace hurried. Serena isn't sure if it's an attempt at technique or if he's just unsure but either way it works for her, warm bursts of sensation washing through her like waves. Shallow waves, still, but very promising ones.
"You'll tell me, right?" Dan's voice is low, a sweet hum against her. "What feels good?"
"It's all good," Serena says, maybe impatiently, as she threads her fingers through his hair. "Keep going."
His lips close around her clit, sucking while his tongue flicks against it, and Serena gasps.
"Did you do more research or something?" she breathes, honestly curious, and feels Dan's silent laughter, his face turned into her thigh, before a little bump from her leg redirects his attention. He keeps it up insistently, the sucking and flicking, a few long slow licks, and then he slips his fingers into her.
"Oh, that's good," Serena moans, pressing his head against her, "That's so good, that's –"
He picks up the pace a little, tongue quick against her clit as his fingers curl slightly, his free hand gripping her ass. Serena pulls her knees up a little, holds her legs farther apart, arching against his mouth and clutching his hair way too tightly.
"Dan, Dan," she says, head thrown back, "Dan, I think –"
Her toes curl, her hands fist in the sheets, and her body is a tight arch, everything focused on Dan. The moan that pulls its way from her throat is more of a cry, sharp and sudden and so good. Her pulse flutters and flutters and she thinks Dan must feel it under his tongue, still working against her.
"Oh, Dan," she murmurs, stroking his hair, the back of his neck, his ears, his jaw. "Dan, that was really good."
"See, you make fun of me," he says, and then kisses her thigh. "But research helps."
Christmas cheer has given way to the usual New Year letdown, all quickly broken resolutions and January chill. In the past, Serena has spent the entire post-holiday season pretty out of it, emerging sometime around spring to fumble through exams and plan summer vacation.
This year is different.
She and Dan spend all of winter break finding excuses to get wrapped up in each other, a feat made much more difficult by the return to school. They try to work around it: back to kissing in the courtyard, rushing back to her empty apartment after school. Serena sends Dan increasingly filthy texts throughout the school day until he has to turn off his phone. But some days require a few stolen moments.
She whisks him away after third period, Dan protesting that he has class but with a smile on his face that belies the objection. She drags him up and up and up the stairs, uses her key (Serena always has a key) to get the door to the roof open and pushes him into the February cold.
"Oh no, too cold, way too cold," Dan says, but he lets Serena keep pulling him along.
"You'll be warm in a minute." She leans back against the brick of the building, eyebrow quirking cheesily, and tugs Dan against her, arm looping around his neck. "Give me your hand."
She presses his hand under her skirt, between her legs, and smiles at his soft swearing; she'd slipped her panties off in the bathroom right before coming to get him, shoved them into the side pocket of her purse. He's confident and unhesitating now, knows from months of practice where and how to touch her. The slide of his fingers is skilled. Serena bites her lip, keeping a quiet cry from escaping, and hooks one leg around his hips.
"Right here?" Dan asks. His nose brushes hers, lips moving over her face.
"Right here," Serena murmurs in confirmation. The breeze isn't strong but it's undoubtedly cold, whipping her hair into both of their faces, pinking their cheeks. Blair likes making fun of what she refers to as Serena's "exhibitionist streak," but there's just something she likes about having sex outside – not the getting caught aspect so much as it just feeling free, sun and wind and wide blue sky.
Dan is good to her, always making sure she's ready, every single time. Jackets had been left in lockers so she's only got a cardigan and thin shirt between herself and the elements; it's easy enough to untangle her tie, open buttons. Dan smiles before he bends to kiss along the lace-edged cup of her bra, his fingers inside her so careful. Serena scratches her nails luxuriously through his hair and kisses his temple – happy but not knowing what to do with it, with feeling so much.
She reaches for his zipper as they kiss, Dan giving a little shiver that could be cold or desire and laughing against her mouth. It edges over into a groan when her fingers curl around him.
"I don't," he breathes, "I don't have a condom."
Her Dan, always so responsible. Well, she's picking up tricks from him. "I do, it's okay."
A few moments later and he's easing into her. It's a discordant feeling, the cold bringing goosebumps to her skin while Dan makes her flushed and hot. Her hair is catching on the bricks. Her hands are pressed to Dan's cheeks as she kisses him and laughs because it's chilly and moans because it's so good, so impossibly good.
He's got one hand on the bricks and the other under her ass, telling her all kinds of nonsense, that she's beautiful and wonderful and she feels amazing, all that sex bullshit that, inexplicably, Dan actually means. His eyes close only in the brief, hurried moments when their lips meet; otherwise his eyes are on hers, dark brown and warm.
Sometimes she still wishes there hadn't been anyone but Dan, and sometimes it even feels like it.
Like right now: Serena has fucked plenty of boys in inconspicuous places but at the moment all of it pales, pales compared to Dan laughing and losing his balance and catching it again and cursing. Pales against giggly kisses passed between them and Dan's forehead pressed to hers.
Best of all is when Dan gets serious about it, holds her up with both hands and catches her mouth on every other thrust, his brow getting that solemn little crease. She knows she's the only one who has this part of Dan. She's the only one who has seen it. It belongs to her and she'll never have to share it, Dan's quiet moaning of her name before he comes, Dan's fingers finishing her off.
Owning things has never been important to Serena; she's not really possessive by nature. But there is a fierce protectiveness in her she can't deny and it wraps its hand around her heart whenever she thinks about Dan. They go back to class, Dan looking particularly dazed, and Serena doodles her way through English feeling not only the shivery tension of dissipated orgasm, not just the thrill of having broken some rule, but a bizarre and private kind of pride.
The best part is knowing that when she's sitting here thinking of Dan, he's out there thinking of her too.