Friend of Chaos

Writer's Block: Book worms unite!

Sat, 28 Nov 2009 19:29:49 GMT

What are the three best books you have ever read and what are the three worst? What made them so good or bad?

Best:
1) War & Peace - by Leo Tolstoy. Obvious Reasons (Well written, Classic adventure, yadda yadda)
2) The Dresden Files books. - I'm a sucker for fantasy and mystery.
3) Anything by Roald Dahl. He was my favorite as a kid. The nasty subtleties of his writing make me crack up every time

Worst:
1) The Twilight Saga - It really is like a poorly written work of fanfiction that somehow got published.: No style, little substance, and the characters were fucking psycho.
2) Ender's Game- Actually really well written, but the plot of the story is so fucked up. I mean, child soldiers unknowingly committing genocide? Christ on a Cracker, it made me Cringe. (Haha. I like a lot of alliteration)
3) The Vampire Lestat. - The plot moved really. Fucking. Slow. Also, Lestat was kind of a whiny bitch. It only took me ten days to read War & Peace while also going to high school and a part time job. The Vampire Lestat? Four fucking months, two of which were during the summer.

Writer's Block: If we took a holiday ...

Fri, 27 Nov 2009 01:30:43 GMT

What is your favorite holiday and why?

Submitted By crazyprotein

View 1052 Answers

Halloween because it's pure fun for fun's sake, no fakeness or dress code or financial obligation beyond the purchase of candy.

Writer's Block: Ohhh, baby

Tue, 20 Oct 2009 18:31:38 GMT

If your best friend asked you OR your partner to help you conceive a child, would you consider it? How do you think it would affect your friendship and your relationship?

Submitted By moho2987

View 972 Answers

If by "help" you mean "drive them to the fertility clinic."

Friends don't ask friends for help making babies. The potential repercussions are too extreme.

A Gratuitous Interlude

Mon, 21 Sep 2009 21:41:05 GMT

Title: Superstar
Pairing(s): Chuck/Nate
Rating: NC-17
Spoilers: Early Season 1, Handmaiden's Tale
Warnings: Slash, fisting, a distinct lack of plot.
Disclaimer: I do not own Gossip Girl or any of its characters. They belong to the CW and other people. I also do not own the Kimberly Cole song for which it is titled. No infringement is intended.

Chuck closed his eyes and leaned into the warm spray of the shower – his second of the day – willing his muscles to unclench and his aches to slip away. Four hours of rough sex was pushing the limits of even the legendary Bass stamina. Suddenly, he felt a blast of cool air parting the steam, licking against his skin, and heard the shower door slam shut.

“Seriously? What the hell is wrong with you?”

Chuck sighed and opened his eyes, facing his very pissed off best friend with the most innocent expression he was capable of mustering. (Not very innocent, then. Everything having to do with Chuck Bass is coated in a layer of dirty.)

“Anyone could have walked in and seen me there, Chuck!” Nate's were flushing at the very thought. Oozing with fake sympathy, Chuck ran a hand through Nate's sweat-soaked locks before sliding his hand back to cup the nape of Nate's neck, drawing him forward into the spray of the shower head.

“Give me a little credit, Nathaniel,” Chuck murmured reassuringly. “I'm not going to let just anyone into the suite, and I'm sure as hell not going to let them see what you and I get up to behind closed doors.” He leaned in to whisper in Nate's ear “I'm far too possessive,” hand sliding down Nate's chest in a most distracting manner. His diversion succeeded in softening Nate's expression as Chuck drew back, Nate's indigence morphing into self-indulgence.

“My arms hurt,” Nate pouted, his big blue eyes more pitiful than a lonely puppy's. Chuckling, the sinister brunette slid his arms around the blonde, massaging his shoulders in a rare gesture of sympathy.

“Well,” Chuck's voice dripped with amusement as he spoke silkily in Nate's ear. “Maybe now you've learned to behave while we play.” Nate sighed and dropped his head to rest on Chuck's shoulder, pressing his hips into Chuck's with a soft whimper.

Seriously? No, that's impossible – Again??? Chuck silently cursed at the sensation of Nate's now half-hard cock rubbing against his inner thigh. How the hell could Nate still want sex after all they'd done already? It was early evening. They'd been fucking since midday. Truthfully, Chuck was unsure whether he should be proud of Nate's new sexual appetite or afraid of it. Chuck had to wonder if Nate's emo hair had finally infiltrated his mind, but his Upper East Side upbringing had him substituting sex for cutting (razor scars don't accessorize well); or if there'd been Viagra in the petit fours at Eleanor's. Chuck's Id, however, prevented from acting upon these concerns, concluding that if Nate's body was looking to put itself through all of this punishment, then Chuck had might as well oblige.

Which is why Nate was now doubled over against the shower door, which rattled with the force his body shuddering around the four fingers currently rooting around in his ass. Chuck curled his fingers to swipe Nate's prostate again and again, driving Nate to the brink, until, bastard that Chuck was, he spun the faucet, switching the water rapidly from hot to ice cold, the pure shock ripping Nate's orgasm out of him, a tiny stream of cum dribbling weakly from his rapidly flagging erection as his now-empty sac seized with the throes of climax.

Exhausted, Nate slumped forward in a heap, held up only by Chuck's arm about his waist, looking thoroughly debauched. (Which, by now, he really should've been. Not even Superman himself could get fucked up the ass that many times and not let it show.) With a great heave, Chuck pulled his loopy friend upward, holding him back-to-chest as they stood under the still-cold spray, wiping him down with his left hand as he kept Nate firmly secured to him with his right.

Nate whimpered in chilly protest as he batted dazedly at the faucet handle, trying (and failing) to warm the punishing streams as Chuck shoved his head under, scrubbing efficiently at Nate's hair with his now-soapy left hand. However, the blonde's suffering ended as soon as the water ran clear, and the sleepy boy was dragged from the little glass room to find himself bombarded by fluffy white monster's that yanked at his hair and ran themselves suggestively over his skin with remarkable efficiency before shoving him (naked) into Chuck's room.

Sliding between the sheets, Nate was too tired to be amused when Chuck, cloaked once again in a towel, tucked him in with a kiss to his forehead. Nate's final sight before he fell asleep was of Chuck, standing before his wardrobe in the exact pose he'd held when Nate had arrived that day.

Author's Note: Comment, Please.

Writer's Block: Improving the Way We Eat

Mon, 21 Sep 2009 19:49:49 GMT

How could the way we eat improve in the future?

Presented by Intel, Sponsors of Tomorrow.

View 257 Answers

Calorie free ice cream

Writer's Block: What if calories didn't count?

Sat, 19 Sep 2009 02:03:34 GMT

If a magic genie told you your calories wouldn't count for 24 hours, would it change what and how much you ate that day?

View 1266 Answers

Abso-fucking-lutely.

I'd switch from steamed tofu to fried, and actually try the non-yogurt version of Cherry Garcia.

Writer's Block: The truth is out there ...

Sun, 13 Sep 2009 06:11:38 GMT

If someone discusses UFOs at a party, do you assume they're a visionary or bonkers? Do you consider yourself a believer or a skeptic?

View 1080 Answers

I'm a believer. In fact, I own a copy of the Encyclopedia of UFO sightings. It's a piece of shit, really, but it's the street cred that I'm going for here

Writer's Block: Confidence Booster

Fri, 14 Aug 2009 22:37:42 GMT

What do you wear to feel confident?

Sponsored by Body by Victoria® from Victoria's Secret.

View 505 Answers

Spanx. Under dress pants.

Writer's Block: Not So Genius

Sat, 18 Jul 2009 22:07:49 GMT

Which modern invention do you think the world would be better off without?

View 502 Answers

Nuclear weapons. Duh.

Writer's Block: All About My Mother

Sun, 10 May 2009 19:27:50 GMT

Lois from Malcolm in the Middle

Writer's Block: Desert Island Time

Mon, 02 Mar 2009 22:56:14 GMT

You're packing your bag for that magical desert island that happens to have electricity, a TV, and a DVD player—what five DVDs do you take with you?

View 501 Answers

Slither
Kingdom of Heaven (Director's Cut)
Pineapple Express
Hot Fuzz
Ella Enchanted

Writer's Block: A Bargain at Any Price

Sat, 27 Dec 2008 01:52:40 GMT

No matter what their budget is, everyone loves a bargain. What item or object do you love the most that cost you the least?

View 475 Answers

My iPod speakers: Small, collapsable, 75% off the sticker price

Writer's Block: Set Sail

Wed, 10 Dec 2008 00:01:59 GMT

Spike and Angel, President Roslin and Gaius Baltar, Harry and Hermione—shippers often find pairings that the original author might have overlooked. What coupling of fictional characters would you most like to see?

View 504 Answers

Chuck & Nate - Gossip Girl.

Dylan Hunt & Telemachus Rhade - Andromeda

Logan Cale & "Alec" - Dark Angel

Gratuitous Smut, Part 2b/3

Wed, 26 Nov 2008 00:43:16 GMT

Title: The Joker
Pairing(s): Chuck/Nate, mentions Nate/Blair
Rating: NC-17
Spoilers: Early Season 1, Hand Maiden’s Tale
Warnings: Slashy smut, food kink
Disclaimer: I do not own Gossip Girl, or any of its characters. They belong to the CW and other people. The song for which this is titled belongs to The Steve Miller Band, or whoever.

The Joker

It's a fact: Basses Don't Suck Cock.

And they certainly don't deep throat teenaged cocks sheathed in grape-flavored latex.

Or, that's what Chuck was letting everyone think. Because people wouldn't be able to handle the truth.

They'd stare blankly in response to tales of Chuck pinning another boy's legs to the floor with his own torso.

They'd scoff at the idea of Chuck's throat wrapped tightly around his writhing best friend.

They'd dismiss the idea of him enjoying it all together.

Because no child of Bart Bass could ever do that sort of thing.

And Yet....

Nate Archibald had never gotten such a good look at his own eyebrows before. There wasn't much to see, to be quite honest, but it's not like he had much of a choice in the matter.

His eyes refused to stop rolling up. His hips wanted to join them, but unfortunately, Chuck's weight was relentlessly unyielding. Chuck had been sucking Nate off for at least an hour now, and Nate still hadn't come yet; every time he got [shiveringly] close, Chuck pulled back, let Nate's cock droop to half-mast before continuing. It was really aggravating.

Nate arched his back as Chuck's mouth once again sucked with amazingly strong force. Nate squirmed, his wrists straining against his bonds, but to no avail.

With a moan of defeat, Nate let his shoulders hit the floor. Chuck, noticing, went down hard, and swallowed.

Again... and again... and again.

The coil of lust that had been tightening ever so drastically within Nate sprung loose, and he came with a girly scream. (Which Chuck was nice enough to forget hearing.)

When Nate regained control of his senses, he opened his eyes to find that Chuck (and his glorious mouth) were gone.

But Nate was still tied up on the floor.

XD.

Review, Please.
Interlude: Superstar

Writer's Block: Revolutionary Thought

Fri, 07 Nov 2008 22:58:31 GMT

It's the anniversary of the Russian Revolution, marking the Marxist overthrow of the Russian government. Karl Marx once wrote that "religion is the opium of the people." What is the new opium of the people?

View 501 Answers

WARNING: I MAKE NO APOLOGIES FOR MY OPINIONS.

This statement still holds true today.

Look at The Evolution/Creationism/"Intelligent Design" Debate.

Evolution is a theory. A theory that is well supported to the point where the majority of the world concludes that it is fact, but the first rule of science is that Nothing is Proven, Only Supported, so it's perfectly plausible that some may find flaw in evolution.

Creationism is derived from an ancient book that has been written and rewritten so many times that no one knows what the original truly said. It holds little credibility among the reasonably minded.

"Intelligent Design" is sheer idiocy, and was born of idiocy. Some "scientists," funded primarily by far-right extremists, came up with this pseudo-science in an attempt to combat the validity of evolution. So obsessed with asserting their religious dominance, these quacks broke the most important rule of scientific ethics: Don't make shit up.

Thus, religion is the opium of the masses. And many are still hooked.

Gratuitous Smut, Part 2a/3

Mon, 03 Nov 2008 01:02:32 GMT

Title: Outrageous
Pairing(s): Chuck/Nate, mentions Nate/Blair
Rating: 16+
Spoilers: Early Season 1, Hand Maiden’s Tale
Warnings: Slashy smut, food kink
Disclaimer: I do not own Gossip Girl, or any of its characters. They belong to the CW and other people. The song for which this is titled belongs to Britney Spears, or whoever controls Britney now that she’s lost it. No infringement is intended.

“Wow,” Nate intoned as he stared at the apparatus on Chuck’s bar. “This is bordering on creepy.”

“Well, I’m hungry and you’re horny,” Chuck explained as he poured himself a Gin & Tonic. “So we’re meeting halfway.” Nate laughed, and shook his head when Chuck offered him a G&T as well.

“A chocolate fondue is your idea of meeting halfway?”

“Are you complaining?”

“Not really,” Nate admitted, popping a marshmallow into his mouth. He chewed thoughtfully for a moment.
“Kind of curious as to how you plan on pulling this off.”

“Meaning?”

“Well,” Nate grabbed a melon ball. “The bed’s over there.”

“Uh huh.”

“And the food’s over here,” Nate finished.

“Your powers of observation astound me, Nathaniel,” Chuck said dryly. “Amazing, really.”

“I know.”

Chuck laughed, speared a strawberry on a fondue fork and dunked it in the molten confection, twirling it for an even coating. He extended the fork to Nate, who made a show of biting into it slowly, eyes constantly on Chuck. When Chuck pulled the fork back, he saw that a dollop of chocolate had dripped onto Nate’s chin. Unable to resist, Chuck leaned in and licked it off, savoring his bit of Chocolate-Covered Nate, nipping Nate’s chin gently when he’d finished. Pulling back, Chuck saw the reawakening of the manic lust in Nate’s eyes.

Apparently, it was time for their games to begin again.

OoO /Let’s cut straight to the kink./ OoO

Nate strained against his bonds as Chuck’s tongue scraped over his inner thighs. Nate was not happy. The floor was not comfortable, and being zip-tied, shirtless, to one of Chuck’s barstools was not helping any. Chuck Bass had no sense of humor. Honestly, Nate ‘accidentally’ getting chocolate in Chuck’s hair did not necessitate bondage. But try telling Chuck that.

“Nathaniel, stop squirming,” Chuck ordered. “That’s what led to your current predicament, remember?”

Nate pouted. Chuck rolled his eyes and ambled up Nate’s body until they were face to face, their breath mingling. Nate put on his most maudlin puppy-dog face, but Chuck was having none of it.

“Give it up Nathaniel,” Chuck leaned in to murmur into Nate’s ear. “You know you like it.”

To emphasize this point, Chuck traced along the underside of Nate’s erection with his index finger, making Nate shudder and let out a strangled whimper/moan. Chuck smirked and gave Nate’s earlobe a gentle nip before pulling back.

Nate flinched at the sensation of Chuck’s chocolate-covered finger tracing a gooey trail up his chest, Chuck’s tongue quick to follow it. Chuck’s mouth lingered on Nate’s Adam’s Apple. (Chuck secretly delighted in making Nate giggle like a school girl.) Nate squirmed, protesting breathlessly, until Chuck’s mouth was sealed to his, and his senses were overwhelmed by the taste of Chocolate, his own sweat, and something that is distinctly Chuck.

(AN: Chuck-olate)

Once they parted, Nate found Chuck’s hand, dripping chocolate, offering up a grape, hovering mere inches from his mouth. Nate accepted said grape, and took Chuck’s hand while he was at it, sucking each finger clean, eyes on Chuck the entire time.

Chuck’s relished the warm, wet feel of Nate’s mouth, and wouldn’t have minded letting Nate go on like that for a while longer. But this was the first time Nate had let Chuck put him in such a vulnerable position, and Chuck was determined to take full advantage while he could. So he removed his fingers from Nate’s mouth with an obscene *pop.* Nate pouted prettily, missing his tasty treat, but Chuck ignored him, opting instead to coat all of the sensitive spots on Nate’s chest with melted chocolate.

Nate wriggled, his body unsure if the confection was too hot. Chuck blew on the puddles of brown, willing them to cool and harden. His hands traced Nate’s hips as he did so, fingers feather-light. Nate, frustrated by this torturous lack of coital progress, bucked his hips, seeking friction, Chuck’s attention, anything. Chuck laughed, his hands going from feathery to vice-like on Nate’s hips, pinning them down.

“Behave, Nathaniel.”

“Make Me.”

Chuck’s eyes glinted mischievously; it was making Nate equally nervous and horny. Chuck slowly undid the knot keeping his robe closed, eyes on Nate’s, always. He slid it off his shoulders, and threw it in the same general direction he’d tossed Nate’s nearly half an hour earlier. But instead of leaning in closer, Chuck rose, picking his cell phone up off the bar.

“What are you doing?” Nate’s panicked at the sight of the phone.

“Checking my messages and ignoring you,” Chuck lied. In reality, he was taking a picture; forever recording the image of Nate, boxer-clad and eyes horny, bound by his wrists, milky skin decorated with hickeys from Chuck’s mouth, lips bruised from Chuck’s lips. Nate was a work of art, and it was only by the cruelty of the universe that Howard and Anne Archibald were his parents.

Pretending to respond to a text message, Chuck sent the photo to his own e-mail before deleting it. (One could never be too careful with Gossip Girl around.) He put his phone back on the bar and grabbed the condoms. He then kneeled, straddling Nate’s squirming hips as he inspected his handiwork up-close.

The chocolate, as intended, had hardened on Nate’s skin. Chuck now set about the task of scraping it off with his teeth, making Nate wriggle and moan beneath him. When Nate managed to crash their hips together, Chuck’s teeth sank into Nate’s left nipple in warning, and a chocolate-drenched marshmallow was shoved between his lips to stifle the begging-moaning-sobbing. Chuck was not going to rush this - not until it suited him.

When all traces of chocolate had been expunged from Nate’s skin, Chuck and Nate shared an erotic marshmallow: tongues dueling, teeth clashing, breath mingling. In a (most likely nonexistent) word: mouthfucking. Nate writhed beneath Chuck, arching his back and moaning like a whore from Chelsea. Chuck, for his part, managed to keep his noises to a minimum; however Nate’s reactions raged a fire within Chuck that burned through Chuck’s mile thick patience at record speed.

Needless to say, those flavored condoms were quickly put to good use.

Author’s Note: Remember, friends. You share love, I share love. Review to read about yet another Chuck/Nate BJ.

Writer's Block: Forbidden Reading

Sun, 19 Oct 2008 18:00:25 GMT

From Judy Blume to V.C. Andrews, there's always a book circulating among teens that their parents don't want them to read. What favorite book did you have to hide from your parents?

View 503 Answers

Are you kidding?

Why would I EVER have let my parents know what I was reading?

They might have tried to {[(*Shivers*)]} talk to me about it.

Blech.

Writer's Block: Everything That's Fit to Print

Thu, 18 Sep 2008 21:01:34 GMT

The New York Times was first published on this day in 1851. How important is print news to you? Does the internet render circulation obsolete, or will print never die?

View 426 Answers

print news in intensely important to me, and i hope it never dies.

Writer's Block: Greenery

Tue, 16 Sep 2008 00:34:45 GMT

Today in 1971, Greenpeace was founded. How are you helping to keep your section of Earth green these days?

View 500 Answers

Instituted a paper-recycling program @ school.

Writer's Block: Brand Loyalty

Tue, 16 Sep 2008 00:32:48 GMT

Why are you loyal to certain brands/stores? What keeps you coming back?

Writer's Block: Redoing Nature's Color Palette

Tue, 26 Aug 2008 19:18:20 GMT

If you could manipulate the color schemes of nature, what things in nature would you change the color of? What would you change them to?

Submitted By laurelsing

View 501 Answers

Chocolate.

I'd give it a shiny happy color to reflect it's chocolate-y goodness.

Also, I'd create black roses, purple roses, possibly garish hippy tie-dye roses.

Gratuitous Smut, Part 1/3

Wed, 20 Aug 2008 01:34:43 GMT

Title: The Beautiful People
Pairing(s): Chuck/Nate, Chuck/Nate, Chuck/Nate, But they're kind of OOC.
Rating: 17+
Spoilers: Early Season 1, Hand Maiden’s Tail
Warnings: Slashy smut of no real literary substance.
Disclaimer: I do not own Gossip Girl, or any of its characters. They belong to the CW and other people. I also do not own the Manson song for which it is titled. No infringement is intended.

Note:

To all who dislike my [hilarious] commentary, I present you with your two choices:
1) Don’t read my Fics.
2) Get over it, M*ther F*ckers, because they’re not going anywhere.

Nate climbed back onto the bed, and settled himself half draped over Chuck’s upper body. Chuck yanked him closer so that their mouths crushed together in a desperate clash of tongues and teeth. Their legs entwined, and soon, Nate was fumbling blindly with the condom chains on the bed.

Unfortunately, condom labels are not printed in braille, making them very hard to distinguish from one another by touch alone. Impatient, Chuck broke free of Nate’s mouth (with a custom Chuck Bass Eye roll, of course), and examined the various contraceptives Nate had chosen.

“Why Nathaniel, I didn’t realize you planned on attempting a world record today.” Eyebrows and hairline had now merged and become one. “Blair must really be a tease.”

“Shut up,” Nate blushed, his pink face contrasting his [fake] blonde locks nicely.

“Hmm, let’s see,” Chuck inspected the condom labels. “Glow in the Dark ultra thin condoms, Twisted Ribbed condoms, and... grape flavored condoms. Why Nate, sucking my cock turns you on that much?”

“You’re reading way too much into this,” Nate replied, shaking his head. “I mean, they’re your condoms.”

“Oh look, you chose the grape lube, too. So it’s grapes that get you going, Nate?”

“You suck, dude.”

“ Au Contraire, Nathaniel, it’s you who likes to suck.”

Nate, having no comeback, grabbed the lube and the condoms from Chuck, tore off a packet, pressed said packet (along with lube) into Chuck’s hand, and tossed the rest to the side. He then kissed an amused Chuck quite thoroughly, shifting his hips suggestively against Chuck’s left thigh. Chuck let out a breathy laugh, and tore the condom wrapper open with his teeth. Nate took it from him and pulled out the condom, tossing the wrapper onto the floor. He rolled the condom slowly onto Chuck’s cock, teasing glint in his eye as he held Chuck’s gaze.

Once it was on completely, Nate straddled Chuck, took Chuck’s face in his hands and they kissed again, slower this time, while Chuck, not breaking the kiss, lubed up his fingers. (A/N: Can you distinguish Under-Sexed Boyfriend from Crude, Emotionally Stunted Pervert yet?) Pulling away slightly, Chuck held Nate’s heated gaze as he traced his slick fingers along his lips, leaving behind shiny grape flavor. (A/N: “Chuck Bass’ Signature Grape Lip Gloss, available in stores near you.”) Nate was frozen, mesmerized by the sight, for several moments, before swooping in, tongue roughly attacking Chuck’s mouth, chasing the sweet, greasy taste.

Meanwhile, Chuck’s slick fingers had found their way to the rim of Nate’s ass, tracing his entrance, seeking permission.

“Mmph.” Nate mumbled something unintelligible into Chuck’s mouth. When Chuck, still trying to decipher, did nothing, Nate pushed back into Chuck’s hand. Chuck took that as a sign, and slid his index finger into Nate.

Nate keened, breaking away from Chuck and arching his back as he moaned aloud. Chuck took the opportunity to add his middle finger, and began working his fingers in and out. Nate grunted in surprise, and lowered himself back down, his mouth latching onto Chuck’s collarbone, and tried to hold in his whimpers when Chuck’s fingers began scissoring.

Meanwhile, Chuck was looking for something. He knew he’d found it when Nate’s entire body convulsed, and Nate’s teeth sunk into his shoulder, hard. Chuck hissed, and Nate unclenched his jaw.

“Dammit, Nathaniel!”

“You’re fine, you big baby.” Nate told him, inspecting the damage. Chuck’s comeback was to add a third finger, and press down on the previously discovered spot in a less-than-gentle manner. Nate made a strangled noise and his entire body tensed as shocks shot up his spine. This gave Chuck the opportunity to work out a rhythm that quickly reduced Nate to a whimpering, pathetic mess.

“Chuck,” Nate gasped squeakily. “Please.” With one final twist against Nate’s prostate, Chuck removed his fingers. He eased his right arm out from under Nate’s weight and sat up.

“What’re you doing?” Nate asked, dazed. His question was answered when Chuck lunged towards the foot of the bed, and triumphantly brandished his previously forgotten towel, which he used to wipe the greasy mess from his left hand. When he laid back on the bed, he brought the nasty towel with him.

Nate wrinkled his nose in distaste.

“Dude, what’s with the towel?”

“Sex is messy, Nathaniel.” Chuck rolled his eyes at the obviousness, then tossed the towel into his nightstand drawer, which Nate had left open. (A/N: Well he was kind of in a hurry. ;-P)

“Now then,” Smarminess reemerging as Chuck reached for Nate. “Where were we?”

“Uh,” Nate pretended to think about it as he straddled Chuck. “I think you were about to sodomize me.”

“Lovely,” Chuck grimaced at Nate’s juvenile (but succinct) response. He gently grasped Nate’s hips to help guide him forward. “Well then, I guess that’s where we should pick this up again.” He aligned himself with Nate’s entrance, and stilled, relinquishing control to Nate.
***
(A/N: Yes, I realize that particular bit of banter was rather lame, but honestly, what else was I supposed to write? I mean, saying “where were we?” all slow and sexy is totally Chuck, but how the hell would Nate respond to that? So, yeah, we’re gonna be OOC for a while.)
***

Nate, impatient and abrupt as always, guided the head of Chuck’s cock inside, then brought his hips down quickly, taking in Chuck’s entire length in one hard, fast stroke.

He then proceeded to keel forward, flat down against Chuck’s chest.

“Hey, you’re the one who chose ribbed condoms,” Chuck reminded him, petting Nate’s head.

“I forgot,” Nate told Chuck’s left pec.

Chuck laughed. “Not that I mind, but you really should go slower. It’d be easier for you.”

“Wanted to get it over with.” Nate sat up again with a grunt. “Get to the fun part faster.” He punctuated his point by sliding up and down on Chuck’s cock once, making them both moan.

“Fine,” Chuck said through clenched teeth. “Just don’t shoot off early.”

“Promise.” (A/N: Well, what do you know, Porny!Nate can be smarmy too.)

Nate rose up, then slammed himself down as Chuck thrust up, hitting all the right spots and making sparkly white spots on his eyes. He did it again, and again, setting a frantic pace, as was normal with them. Abnormal for them was Chuck watching Nate like a hawk, rather than staring at the ceiling above the top of Nate’s head, and groaning like a porn star.
[A/N: the following list is for Entertainment Purposes ONLY; I make it all up, please do not assume that any of the following points are real. 'Cause they're not.]
---------------------
Chuck’s Reasons for Watching Nate:

1. What Nate was unaware of was that flavored lube, while grapey, isn’t as effective of a lubricant as Nate was used to. Its consistency is similar to that of Baby Oil.

2. Ribbed condoms are designed to maximize sensation, and are coated in your standard condom lube.

3. Neither of these lubricants contain numbing agents for “Extended Pleasure.”
(A/N: Not how I would’ve phrased it, but I figure a company as old as Trojan uses it for a reason.)

4. They were in a fairly high-friction position.

5. People who live in glass houses shouldn’t throw stones. Also, people with insanely tight asses shouldn’t ride cocks like it’s going out of style.

6. Ribbed condoms are really more of a hetero thing; a way for married suburban couples to liven up their vanilla sex. They might not be built to withstand the friction of a rough-riding teenage boy’s ass. Chuck wasn’t sure. He (shockingly) hadn’t tried this before.

7. If the condom tore, that would be bad. Very, very bad.

8. Nate’s sweaty hair was flopping with the force of his thrusts. It was amusing in an incredibly sexy sort of way. Not to mention the look on his face was... perfect. Not that Chuck would admit that aloud, mind you.

9. Something had to be very wrong for Nate to abuse his own ass like this. And although Chuck was enjoying Nate’s manner of self-medicating, he was still worried. He’d have to remember to ask about this tomorrow. No need to bother Nate with this now.

10. When Nate broke his “promise,” Chuck wanted to know ahead of time, so he could grab the towel. He liked this headboard. He liked Nate’s cum, too, but not so much that he wanted it plastered permanently over his bed. That’d be rather hard to explain to Bart.
----------------------------

As predicted, Nate felt the first warning ripples of orgasm far earlier than he’d originally anticipated. He tried to stave it off, gulping down air, slowing his thrusts, digging his nails into his palm, anything to ground himself, but to no avail, because Chuck was still pumping his hips, cock dragging against Nate’s prostate. Nate closed his eyes, the sight of Chuck mid-coitus really not helping his current predicament.

Suddenly Nate felt the bed shift from under him, and suddenly he was on his back, Chuck’s weight on him, and he guessed they’d rolled to the left side of the bed. Chuck’s cock was still buried deep in Nate, but it wasn’t moving. Nate opened his eyes to see Chuck reaching for something.

“Something” turned out to be the towel, which Chuck tossed on the bed. When he noticed Nate staring at him, Chuck smirked, hoisted Nate’s knees onto his shoulders, and began pounding wildly into him. Nate arched, not sure if he was trying to get away from the sensation, or press closer. What he did know was that the ripples were back again, stronger this time, and if Chuck kept this up, this would be over way too quickly.

He tried to tell Chuck this, but all that came out was “Chuh uh nggguh.” Not very helpful. Nate tried again, but this time all he did was mew, which was worse, because apparently in Bassworld, mewing is code for “Change angles and speed up,” because that’s exactly what Chuck did. Nate writhed as shock waves shot from the pit of his belly to the top of his spine.

Chuck, whose motor functions were clearly not affected by the vice grip of Nate’s ass, leaned down to whisper in Nate’s ear.

“Let go, Nate.”

My, said the Blair-voice inside Nate’s brain. How clichéd.

“Just let go. ”

And, just like a bad skin flick, Nate’s body chose to ignore its Brain and listen to Chuck, his dick exploding. He waited to feel the spatter of hot cum on his chest, but it never came. That’s when Nate’s brain regained enough coherence to notice two things:

Chuck’s cock, though still hard and still inside him, was no longer moving.
Something very rough was rubbing his over-sensitized dick.

Nate whimpered and opened his eyes to the sight of the now-soaked towel in Chuck’s hand, wrapped around the head of his cock.

“Good -*huff*- thinking - *puff*”

“I know.” Chuck Bass was rarely modest, and never during sex. With a roll of his eyes, Nate let his head flop back onto the pillow, his legs falling from Chuck’s shoulders. He reached out with his arms, and Chuck, tossing the cum-towel to the other side of the bed, fell into his embrace, Nate’s chest still heaving. Their lips met lazily, and after a moment, Chuck rolled them over so that Nate was again on top.

“Better?” Chuck asked, so close that his lips bumped Nate’s, their breath mingling. Nate nodded and closed the fraction of distance, their lips melded once more. More kissing, then Chuck pulled back again.

“You sure you’re okay? Because that was inten-” Nate sealed his mouth to Chuck’s again, effectively cutting off his words. Chuck laughed into the kiss at Nate’s eagerness. The vibrations from Chuck’s laughter spread through his entire body, including one particular portion that was still trapped within Nate. The sensation reminded Nate that they still had some unfinished business.

“Chuck,” Nate whispered.

“What?”

“I broke my promise.”

“It’s okay, Nathaniel.”

“I want to make it up to you.” He wiggled his hips suggestively around Chuck’s cock, a lewd Cheshire Cat smile gracing his lips.

“We’re not eight year olds, Nate. I’m not going to kick you out of the clubhouse.”

“Eyes on the prize, Bass.” Nate used his most authoritative, Bart-like tone. “World record, remember?”

“You’re trying to kill me, aren’t you?”

“You’re Chuck Bass. You can take it.” Nate began thrusting again, slowly this time, waiting for Chuck to join him.

“Hmm,” Chuck closed his eyes at the sensations. “If you insist, Archibald.” His hips rose to meet Nate’s slow rhythm, and together they increased the tempo, Chuck was bucking in shallow, sharp thrusts.

Without warning, Chuck again flipped Nate onto his back, and changed both the angle and speed, pulling out until only the tip remained within Nate before slamming balls deep inside, hitting Nate’s sweet spot every time. Chuck, despite himself, cried out when Nate began flexing his inner muscles in time with Chuck’s thrusts. However, Chuck was unwilling to relinquish control, so he flipped them again, this time so that he was sitting on the edge of the bed, feet on the floor, Nate’s legs wrapped around him. This position gave him total control, leaving Nate helpless to the harsh laws of Gravity as Chuck moved him up and down by the hips. Nate’s cock was trapped between their stomachs, dripping pre-cum as the friction overloaded his nervous system. He felt his body hurtling toward the edge...

...until Chuck grabbed Nate’s cock in a crushing death grip. Nate cried out in protest, his vision swimming at the combination of pain and pleasure.

“Not this time, Nate,” Chuck whispered into his ear. “Not until I say so.”

Nate shivered at the finality in the words. Then he remembered something.

“Coitus Interruptus,” Nate said with a small smile. Chuck laughed and kissed him softly.

“You liked that, huh?” Nate blushed, cursing his girlish blood vessels.

“You did, didn’t you?” Chuck’s tone was positively gleeful. “Oh, I am going to have fun with this...”

Worried now, Nate wiggled and bounced on Chuck’s cock, trying to disrupt Chuck’s evil plotting. Successfully, it would seem, as Chuck’s eyes momentarily slid out of focus. But while Nate’s movement’s did distract from all future plans, they also put an evil idea in Chuck’s twisted mind regarding the present.

Chuck released his death grip on Nate’s throbbing shaft, his hands sliding down to grasp Nate’s ass. Chuck leaned in close...

...and lifted Nate up off of his cock. Nate let out a whimper of protest, nearly keeling backwards out of Chuck’s lap at the change in sensation.

“What?” Nate gasped. “What the fuck? Why?”

“Couch,” Chuck told him. “Now.” Chuck helped a very confused Nate to his feet, steadied him, and pushed him gently in the direction of the couch. Nate flopped down on it, eyes tracking Chuck closely.

“Are you coming, or do I have to do this myself?”

“That I’d like to see,” Chuck laughed. “I’ll be there in a minute, Nathaniel, I just need a fresh condom. This one’s run its course. Which is sad, really, considering it hasn’t even been filled yet.”

“Well if you weren’t such a goddamned tease,” Nate retorted. “Maybe it would have.”

Chuck simply grinned as he peeled off the condom and tossed it in the trash. He tore a new ribbed one off the strip on his bed, ripped open the package, and rolled it over his swollen member. He picked up the three condom chains and threw them back into his nightstand drawer, then grabbed a jar of real lubricant and a rubber band before closing the drawer and joining Nate on the couch.

Nate curled up next to Chuck almost immediately.

“What’s that for?” Nate nodded toward the lube jar Chuck had just set on the coffee table. “Those things are pre-lubed, aren’t they?”

“Not well enough,” Chuck’s voice was soft, bordering on vulnerable. Basses were not supposed to be this open, especially with their lovers.

“Humor me, Nathaniel,” Chuck’s added when Nate opened his mouth to argue. He’d let Nate fuck himself sore trying to make his problems disappear, if that was what Nate wanted; but under no circumstances was Chuck going to aid in Nate’s self-mutilation. Not to mention, he’d have a really hard time explaining a ruptured colon to Nate’s parents.

Nate rolled his eyes, but surrendered, capturing Chuck’s mouth in silent acquiescence. Chuck smeared the bumpy rings of the condom heavily with lube, barely getting the lid back on the jar before it was knocked from his hands as Nate straddled him, sinking down on Chuck’s cock almost immediately. Chuck reached down around to where they were joined, fingering the rim of Nate’s stretched, abused hole. Nate shivered at the sensation, the motion spreading through him and into Chuck, who moaned softly, and returned his hand to Nate’s hip. Nate leaned down for one final kiss before he began to move, rising, until only the tip of Chuck remained inside him, before dropping back down, filling himself completely with Chuck.

Chuck let Nate go on like that for a bit, resting his head on the top of the couch, savoring the pleasure shooting through his veins, not to mention the sight of Nate, fiery eyed and flushed, fucking himself on Chuck’s cock. It wasn’t until Nate’s breath began to quicken, his fingers tightening around Chuck’s shoulders, that Chuck took action.

He took the rubber band, which had been encircled around his left wrist, and wound it once, twice, three times around Nate’s shaft and bouncing balls, effectively preventing Nate from orgasming. Nate cried out at the pressure from this makeshift cock ring, the slightest movement of either organ sending an odd pleasure-pain through his nerves. Several times, Nate tried to speak, perhaps to protest, but no words would come out, only faint, squeaky sounds.

Chuck grinned, and lightly rubbed the head of Nate’s dick with his index finger, reveling in the sight of Nate’s eyes rolling up as the increasingly sensitive organ twitched. Chuck stretched up to whisper in Nate’s ear.

“I should probably hurry,” Chuck suggested innocently. “We don’t want your balls” *squeezed them for emphasis* “turning blue.” Nate nodded, eager for the torment to end. Chuck leaned back against the couch, his hands tightening on Nate’s hips. Then he began to plow into Nate, thrusting hard as he brought Nate down on him. Somewhere in the back of Nate’s mind, he figured out why Chuck had moved them to the couch: the back of the couch allowed Chuck the maximum amount of thrust with the minimum amount of work, in addition to fucking Nate up and down his cock.

Nate’s thoughts ended there, when Chuck changed the angle of his thrusts, hitting Nate’s prostate hard as the ribs of the condom stimulated every nerve ending Nate had. The pleasure meshed with the pain in Nate’s full, straining balls and weeping cock, the rubber band felt as if it were red hot. Nate knew he should be getting off right now, but he couldn’t. Not until Chuck let him.

“Please,” Nate begged. “Please, please, please, please.” Chuck’s hips stalled, one of his hands left Nate’s hips to reach for his cock. Nate thought that Chuck was going to remove the band, but all he did was wrap his hand around Nate’s cock and give a few dry pumps before flicking the head, grabbing Nate’s hip again, and resume fucking him, even harder than before.

Nate let out cries of frustration that soon turned to whimpers. He slumped against Chuck, head on his left shoulder, body shaking with the force of Chuck’s thrusts. He had apparently lost control of his arms, which no longer had the strength to grip Chuck’s shoulders, and now strained to prop himself against the couch. His entire body was confused, half of him wanting for this to end, the other half never wanting to stop, all of him wanting the rubber band to come off.

Finally Chuck felt the beginning of his own orgasm. Determined to take Nate with him, Chuck hooked his finger under the band and pulled it off Nate’s balls, letting it go to snap around Nate’s cock, making Nate cry out in pain. Chuck grabbed Nate’s Cock in his previously demonstrated death grip with his left hand, pulling off the band with his right. A bulge was already forming at the base of Nate’s cock where Nate’s spunk had rushed from his sac. Nate’s eyes were actually leaking on Chuck’s shoulder with the need to come.

Chuck thrust once, twice more before releasing Nate’s abused cock and filling the condom with his seed. Nate’s cock exploded, spraying hot spunk all over himself and Chuck as he screamed Chuck’s name. Nate’s orgasm was long and hard, and left him feeling as if Blair had jumped on his balls wearing her deadliest stilettos. He collapsed against Chuck, panting endearments into Chuck’s neck as the world slowly righted itself. Chuck kissed Nate’s shoulder softly.

“You okay?” Genuine concern from a Bass. It seemed he wasn’t the only one acting out of character today.

Nate grunted affirmatively in response, a small smile gracing his lips. Chuck maneuvered their joined bodies sideways so that Nate was laying on his back on the couch, legs still spread to accommodate Chuck, who was propped up on one arm. Chuck began to slowly extract his limp cock from Nate, who immediately let out a moan of protest and wrapped his legs around Chuck’s waist, keeping him still.

“No,” Nate knew he sounded like a petulant child, but he liked the feeling of Chuck inside him. It was Home.

“Nathaniel,” Chuck sighed, amused but determined. “You have to let me out.”

“I don’t want to.” If only Chuck had a camcorder at this moment; Post-coital Nate was something he wanted to keep forever. The nasty condom soaking his rapidly cooling cock with his own sperm, however, was something he wanted to dispose of.

Chuck pressed forward onto Nate and kissed him sweetly, keeping Nate’s attention while he simply grabbed the base of his shaft and withdrew it by hand, swallowing Nate’s sad moan of loss. Chuck pulled out of the kiss and sat up, carefully shed the full condom and tied it off, tossing it into the trash. He got up off the couch and headed into his bathroom, leaving Nate pouting on the couch while he cleaned the spunk and lube off of himself. He wet a fresh washcloth with warm water, and tossed it to Nate as he passed the couch, heading for his wardrobe. He donned his silk robe and grabbed the hotel spare for Nate, who had by now cleaned himself off, but did not stir when the robe landed on his chest. Chuck went over to him.

“Nate, put the robe on.”

“Don’t want to,” Nate replied wearily from behind closed eyes.

“Nathaniel,” Chuck’s voice held an uncharacteristic tone of warning. “Let’s not scare the nice people from Room Service.”

“What,” Nate struggled into a sitting position, pulling on the silky robe. “You haven’t screwed them all into silence already?”

“You’re confusing Room Service with Concierges and Bar maids,” Chuck informed him as he rifled through the stack of food menus he kept on a table by the door, locating the hotel’s menu quickly.

“Ah, Of course, how silly of me,” Nate’s voice absolutely dripped with sarcasm as he fumbled with the sash. Chuck picked up the phone to dial Room Service as Nate headed into the bathroom, washcloth in hand, slamming the door behind him.

Chuck cringed slightly at the noise, hoping the vibrations didn’t cause any unwanted visits from security, courtesy of nosy neighbors. He didn’t want to imagine what his father would say. Then again, he’d walked in on his father doing all sorts of kinky things, Bart wasn’t really one to criticize.

A grin suddenly spread over his face as inspiration suddenly came to Chuck, a new kink to explore with Nathaniel. Their morning had been fun, but their afternoon was going to be positively yummy.

A/N: Okay, this is WAY longer than anticipated, and I’ve still got two more parts to write. So people, please, for the love of Nail Polish, write some freaking comments! The trilogy is going to be divided according to type of condom that Chuck and Nate are using. Also, the other two parts will probably be shorter, since I don’t think there’s really going to be anything resembling a plot by the time I’m through. Just sex.

Writer's Block: Six-Word Story

Thu, 14 Aug 2008 17:36:12 GMT

Hemingway was once challenged to write a story in only six words. His response? “For sale: baby shoes, never worn.” He is believed to have called it his greatest literary work ever. Can you write a story in six words?

Submitted By femspectre

View 506 Answers

Plane Crashes into Ocean. No survivors.

Sigh

Sun, 10 Aug 2008 17:11:06 GMT

Writing is hard.

Writing slashy smut when you're a girl and therefore have never engaged in guy-on-guy is even harder.

And, of course, commenters pick the one day I don't have time to work on the next chapter to reach the commenting requirements for the chapter.

Grrrrr.

The Aforementioned Graphic Sequel (with cliffhanger ending thrown in at no extra cost)

Wed, 06 Aug 2008 01:23:53 GMT

My First Gossip Girl sequel
Title: Heaven on Earth
Pairing(s): Chuck/Nate, some Blair/Nate
Rating: 16+
Spoilers: Early Season 1, Hand Maiden’s Tail
Warnings: Graphic Slash fic named for a Britney Spears song. Yes, you read that right.
Disclaimer: I do not own Gossip Girl, or any of its characters. They belong to the CW and other people. No infringement is intended.

mOBSCENE

Nate nearly cringed as his girlfriend let out a tinkling laugh from her place at his side. It wasn’t that Blair had an especially annoying laugh.

It was just that, coupled with the near blinding light of the Saturday morning sun, and the acoustics of Eleanor’s penthouse, Blair’s laugh was not agreeing with the jackhammer currently going to town on his skull.

Nate suppressed a shudder, and reached for his glass of ice water, hoping that diluting the ethanol in his liver would provide some refuge from this torture. Holding the glass would also aid in resisting the urge to massage his throbbing temples.

The glint of Blair’s bracelet drew him to her hand, which was perched affectionately on his knee.

A knee that, mere hours before, had been hooked over Chuck’s shoulder as Chuck pounded into him, Nate’s head thrown back in rapture.

And now his mouth was dry again.

Nate brought the glass to his lips again, trying to force the thoughts from his mind and concentrate on the conversation at hand. He’d already gone suffered through the standard questions about school and college and his relationship with Blair, but it wasn’t polite to ignore one’s host, especially when the spread Eleanor had thoughtfully had Dorota prepare contained some excellent Hangover foods.

Nate forced his mind to focus on the inane conversation about fashion and shopping and makeup with renewed false interest, counting the seconds until he could leave, get back ~~home~~ to the Palace.

--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Nearly three hours later , Nate rushed from the Palace elevator, ignoring any passerby in his haste to reach Chuck’s suite. He fumbled through his pockets to find his key to Chuck’s suite, nearly missed the lock twice once he’d found it, and finally got the door open. He burst into the room, the door closing with a slam behind him, already scanning the room for his... Chuck.

The heir to Bart Bass’ fortune was standing at his wardrobe, towel around his waist, hair damp and messy, obviously fresh from the shower.

Nate stumbled over the couch (A/N: Don’t ask me how, I’m still trying to figure that out for myself.) in his haste to get to Chuck.

“Don’t run, Nate, people might think you’re desperate,” Chuck teased, not bothering to turn around. Nate groaned as the room spun momentarily before grabbing Chuck’s elbows and pushing him backwards onto the bed. Nate kicked off his shoes and wordlessly lowered himself on top of the now curious Chuck, and began nibbling at his neck and collarbone, the entire time emitting some very out-of-character whimpering noises. After a moment of bewilderment, Chuck laughed, entwining his hands in Nate’s hair.

“Still hung over, I see.”

Nate nodded into his chest before burying himself in Chuck’s abdomen, causing Chuck’s breath to hitch. Nate’s tongue lapped up all of the stray water droplets from Chuck’s skin before turning its attention to Chuck’s navel, an especially sensitive spot for Chuck.

“The only proof that you’re human,” Nate had told him laughingly after a night of too much tequila had led to body shots.

Chuck arched beneath Nate as his finger’s tightened involuntarily in the blonde’s hair, fighting the urge to moan. Nate’s tongue flickered lightly at the rim of Chuck’s navel, which Nate knew drove Chuck crazy, before biting down lightly and sucking. Chuck groaned, and Nate laughed, releasing the now abused skin and, progressing lower, angled his head so that he could drag his tongue along the skin just above the top of the towel. He bit down on one of Chuck’s hipbones, causing Chuck to buck. (A/N: Hee hee. That rhymed.)

Smirking, Nate’s hands grasped both of Chuck’s hips as his mouth pressed light kisses back down the edge of the towel, stopping in the center, his tongue sliding under the towel to brush the start of the hairs beneath, relishing the feeling of Chuck’s arousal poking against his throat. Chuck let out a coughy/laughy moan and hooked his hands under Nate’s arms, dragging him up to eye level, pressing a slow, indulgent kiss to Nate’s lips, their first of the day. Nate shifted slightly, seeking a better angle, causing his thigh to brush the organ currently tenting Chuck’s towel. Chuck moaned and threw an arm around Nate’s neck, the headlock effectively holding Nate still, while the other hand rested at the small of Nate’s back, keeping him close.

They remained like that for a while before Nate, becoming impatient, (A/N: Or possibly oxygen deprived.) began to whimper into Chuck’s mouth, his tongue more insistent as he tried unsuccessfully to create friction. Chuck smirked and broke the kiss.

“I like this new ‘hello’ of yours. You should greet me like this all the time from now on.”

Nate laughed. “Somehow I think our teachers and parents might object to that.”

Chuck snorted. “Fuck ‘em.”

“Ew!” They were both laughing now, and Chuck finally released his death grip to allow Nate to roll off him, onto his back.

Once his breathing had returned to normal, Chuck turned look at his best friend.

“But seriously,” he asked. “What’s got you so hot and bothered at two in the afternoon?” Nate blinked at the ceiling once, twice, then rolled onto his belly, his mouth immediately latching onto Chuck’s earlobe, one arm slung across Chuck’s chest.

“Brunch Sucked.” Nate’s voice was muffled by the skin of Chuck’s neck, which he was apparently trying to suck clean off Chuck’s body. (A/N: Oh, GOD that’s a funny mental image)

Chuck laughed, ran his fingers through the hair on the back of Nate’s neck.

“What, Eleanor hinting at wedding plans again?” Chuck’s laughter at his own joke became a yelp when Nate, who did not find that nearly as amusing, gripped Chuck’s cock a bit too hard through the towel.

“Oh, sorry,” Nate deadpanned, clearly not sorry in the least. Chuck’s eyes narrowed, and Nate suddenly found himself flat on his back, Chuck straddling his hips.

It is also worth mentioning that Chuck was no longer wearing the towel.

Nate gulped at the evil glint Chuck had in his eyes as he leaned forward, slowly unbuttoning Nate’s shirt, kissing every new bit of skin that was uncovered as he went. When he reached Nate’s waistline, he licked a path back up to Nate’s chin, and pressed a sultry kiss on Nate’s lips while he untucked what was left of Nate’s shirt and undid the last two buttons. When this was done, Chuck pulled back to hold Nate’s gaze as he opened Nate’s shirt, running his hands up Nate’s chest as he leaned back down for another kiss.

This time, when Chuck pulled back, Nate followed, lips seeking Chuck’s, allowing Chuck to divest him of his shirt, which was tossed to the floor. Nate’s belt soon followed, and Nate was again pushed flat on his back as Chuck dragged his pants and boxers down. His socks were yanked off as well before Chuck climbed back up Nate’s body for another kiss.

Their hips eventually began moving together in a slow, agonizing rhythm. Nate knew, from the look on Chuck’s face, that this was just teasing, and if he tried to resume the frantic, panicky pace of before, he’d be left on his own for an afternoon of autoeroticism. He therefore let Chuck control the pace, though slightly anxious for things to get moving.

A shrill, polyphonic beeping interrupted their coital bliss. Chuck broke away from Nate’s mouth with an annoyed hiss, untangled himself from Nate, and stood to search for the source of the annoyance.

He didn’t have to go far.

Nate groaned when he saw Chuck retrieve his phone from his pants pocket. He sat up, swinging his long legs over the edge of the bed, and took the phone from Chuck. He rolled his eyes when he saw the display.

“Hey Blair,” Nate sighed, cursing his girlfriend’s terrible timing. He could feel his headache returning, and it had nothing to do with alcohol this time.

”Hey, sweetie, what’re you up to?”

“Oh, Nothing much,” Nate lied as Chuck sat down next to him on the bed.

“So, I’m thinking about throwing another soiree.” Nate rolled his eyes at the word “soiree.” “Maybe a masquerade.”

“A masquerade?” Nate asked incredulously, momentarily stunned by the pretentiousness of his own girlfriend. However, and approving smile grew on Chuck’s face, and Nate could tell that he was looking forward to the event already.

“Uh huh. So what do you think?”

“Well, Chuck certainly seems to approve of the idea.” Nate Archibald may not have been the brightest crayon in the box, but he was certainly the most agile, both physically and orally. (AN: For those who don’t get it, I’m trying to say that he’s good at evading questions. And a fast runner.)

“You’re with Chuck?” It didn’t sound like an accusation.

“Uh, yeah,” Nate replied nervously.

“Can you give him the phone? He’ll be more interested in the details than you.”

Relieved, Nate gladly handed the phone to a puzzled Chuck, and flopped backwards to lie on the bed, feet dangling over the edge, Chuck’s right hand on his left knee, finger’s drumming some unknown beat as he and Blair discussed party details. Uninterested, Nate closed his eyes with a sigh, trying to will time into passing faster.

After three minutes or so, Nate noticed that the warmth from Chuck’s hand was traveling up his leg, along his inner thigh. Nate’s eyes shot open to find Chuck gazing intently at him as while conversing with Blair. Nate shuddered as Chuck’s hand circled oh, so close to his cock, than retreated again. Chuck taunted him repeatedly, until Nate was emitting impatient groans of need. Worried that Blair might hear (thus bursting the evil bubble that formed at the thought of fucking her boyfriend while she pined like a virginal bitch in heat), Chuck grabbed a pillow from the head of the bed, handing it to Nate to bite down on. He then proceeded to slowly jack the flustered Nate to the point of delirium.

Suddenly, his hand froze on Nate’s stiffness.

“Uh, Blair, I’m going to have to call you later. Nate’s call waiting is going off.” Nate, still trying to get a good look at his own brain, barely comprehended his words, until...

“Oh, Hello Mrs. Archibald.” Nate’s eyes widened in abject horror as he numbly held his hand out for the phone.

“Mom,” Nate thanked God, Zeus, Shiva, Krishna, and countless other deities he didn’t believe in that his voice came out normally. Chuck maintained a reassuring grip on his arm, keeping his mind grounded. Nate focused on listening to his mother, then rolled his eyes as his brain processed her words:

“Your father and I were worried when you didn’t come home after Brunch at the Waldorf’s.”

“I’m fine, Mom.”

“You don’t sound fine. Did something happen at Brunch?” Translation: Did you do your father’s ass kissing for him like a good boy; or did you screw up his chances of getting his claws into Eleanor’s business? God damn them, if they didn’t pay his cell phone bill, he would have blocked their number years ago.

“Brunch with Eleanor was fine, Mom.” Chuck, picking up on the nature of the conversation, lay back by Nate on the bed; his presence a comforting reminder that though Nate’s parents were self-absorbed and irresponsible, Nate still had someone who loved him. Who looked out for him.

“Look, Mom, Blair asked me to call me her this afternoon, so if that’s all....”

“Oh of course, dear. Be sure to give her my regards.”

“I will Mom. Love you.” Nate snapped his phone shut with a pronounced eye roll. Chuck laughed and rolled on his side to face him.

“What do you think Mommy Dearest would think if she knew why you really spend so much time in my suite?” Chuck asked jokingly. Nate laughed.

“Don’t know, don’t care. Though my father would probably try to find some way to use this to advance his career.”

“Sounds familiar,” Chuck agreed.

“Doesn’t matter what they’d think. What anyone would think. All that matters is here and now.” Nate leaned towards Chuck.

“Nathaniel, who knew you were such a romantic?” Chuck teased before fusing Nate’s lips to his own. Their tongues entwined, their intensity increasing, until Nate soon found himself straddling Chuck’s thighs, Chuck’s fingers tight in his hair, holding Nate in a less-than-comfortable position, but Nate barely noticed anything other than the warmth of Chuck’s chest pressed against his, silky skin and firm, sinewy muscles. Not to mention the burning in his groin. (A/N: Of the non-VD variety. X-D)

The passion in Chuck’s eyes when they finally came up for air made the fire inside Nate burn a thousand times hotter. Caving to the urgent need to see how far he could push Chuck, Nate started licking his way down the column of Chuck’s throat, pausing only to suck on his Adam’s apple. He continued, down, down, down, drinking up the sweat from Chuck’s chest and abs. He made his way lower, until he was going down on Chuck, deep throating him without the slightest hesitation, and swallowing.

Chuck groaned as the muscles of Nate’s throat worked the head of his cock, tongue writhing against his shaft, Nate’s lips rubbing the base as Chuck’s pubic hair tickled his nose. When Nate eventually took Chuck’s sac in his hand, Chuck was shocked back into reality enough to yank on Nate’s hair, silently letting Nate know that Chuck’s pleasure was not to be placed above Nate’s need for oxygen. Relenting, Nate pulled back until only the head remained in his mouth, inhaled and exhaled deeply through his nose (while tormenting Chuck’s slit with his tongue, of course), and took it all back in again, sucking hard.
Nate began bobbing his head up and down on Chuck’s cock, Chuck’s fingers digging into his scalp encouragingly. Nate’s pace gradually increased, until Chuck’s fingers began to yank on his hair again, a warning that he was close. Ignoring this, Nate’s pace increased further, accompanied by a rather convincing impression of a toothed Hoover vacuum, until Chuck was spilling himself down the back of Nate’s throat with a yell.

Nate licked the remnants of their activities from Chuck’s cock and his own lips before crawling back up Chuck’s body, taking in his best friends hazy, dilated pupils, flushed cheeks, and swollen mouth as he came down from his high. Chuck smiled at Nate when he finally regained his vision, kissed his lips softly, tasting himself on them.

“You’re crazy today, you know that?” Chuck’s voice was soft, hardly more than a whisper, and slightly hoarse from all the screaming. Nate simply gave Chuck a smile that didn’t reach his eyes, and rolled off the bed to his feet.

"Says the guy who jacked me in a public library," Nate replied as he foraged through Chuck’s well-stocked nightstand, emerging with lube and three varieties of condoms. He tossed them to Chuck on the bed, and climbed back in.

Now the real fun would begin.

A/N: You know the deal, people. You can buy an extremely graphic sequel for the price of 10 reviews. Clicky the last line. (above)

Friend of Chaos

Writer's Block: Book worms unite!

Writer's Block: If we took a holiday ...

Writer's Block: Ohhh, baby

A Gratuitous Interlude

Writer's Block: Improving the Way We Eat

Writer's Block: What if calories didn't count?

Writer's Block: The truth is out there ...

Writer's Block: Confidence Booster

Writer's Block: Not So Genius

Writer's Block: All About My Mother

Writer's Block: Desert Island Time

Writer's Block: A Bargain at Any Price

Writer's Block: Set Sail

Gratuitous Smut, Part 2b/3

Writer's Block: Revolutionary Thought

Gratuitous Smut, Part 2a/3

Writer's Block: Forbidden Reading

Writer's Block: Everything That's Fit to Print

Writer's Block: Greenery

Writer's Block: Brand Loyalty

Writer's Block: Redoing Nature's Color Palette

Gratuitous Smut, Part 1/3

Writer's Block: Six-Word Story

*Sigh*

The Aforementioned Graphic Sequel (with cliffhanger ending thrown in at no extra cost)

Sigh