Hands

Every skilled writer must be first and foremost a good observer.
Even more, a skilled poet.
That’s why Dan Humphrey immediately noticed that little, folded sheet of paper on the right corner of his locker.
Someone must have pushed it through the slit.

He was notoriously hard to be noticed by some girls, that’s why he’s very skeptical about it.

-There surely must be a mistake. Someone clearly confused my loker with one of the basket players, or the Rugby ones.. or the Lacrosse ones. -

And yet he  grabbed that note and opened it.

“ ‘Hello, Humphrey…’ “ He started reading.

- Well, unless someone was looking for Jenny’s locker, whoever wrote this was really looking for me. -

“ ‘I still owe you a big favor. Seventh grade. English lessons. Remember when the teacher asked for that essay about a body part?’ ”

- Oh, wait. No mysterious admirer girl. I perfectly know who it is. - He snorted.

Chuck Bass.
Back in the seventh grade era, he looked so petite and somewhat goofy and this made Dan sympathetic over him, so much so he decided to help him, writing for him an essay about his hands, in the form of a poem.

“ ‘It occurred to me that I’ve never ever really had a chance to thank you for that and now I want to do it. Meet me later today, at noon sharp, in the male bathroom of the second floor.’ “

It wasn’t even signed, but there was no need for.
It goes without saying that Dan spent half morning focusing on anything but the class lessons.

- Why the hell should Chuck want to thank me? Why now, after years? How is he supposed to do that? - He racked his brain, as he pretended to take notes about Art History.

A subject he usually loved, but that day there wasn’t room in his mind for that.

- Wait, he’s in Serena’s circle of friends, so maybe I could ask him to give me her number as a way to thank me. Oh, wait. Would this make me a stalker?- He wondered, as he nibbled the tip of his pen.

Serena Van Der Woodsen.
Dan’s main obsession. The purest form of blond perfection to his eyes.
After all, Serena was the IT girl. Almost every girl wished to be like her and almost every guy wished to get down with her.
But not Dan. He craved for more. He dreamed about getting into her life, becoming her one true love and isolating her from all her friends forever.
That’s what he tried to do on paper, at least, with tons of poems he wrote about her or the vision he had of them together.

Dan wouldn’t be so surprised if Chuck had also tried to make a pass at her, as handsome as he had turned out to be.

- Dammit. Where the hell did this last consideration come from?- He asked himself, puzzled, as he squeezed his temples with his hands.

Something that the Professor mistook for a deep sign of concentration, nodding in approval.

- But mostly… Why in the bathroom? Oh I got it. Maybe he wants to make me smoke some weed with him. And, nope, Dan, don’t even try to get hypocritical about it; you’re perfectly aware that it would be a lot less poisonous than all the cigarettes you smoke. And maybe it would be a good way to be more open minded and let your inspiration flow better.- His flood of thoughts went on as he tortured the corner of the page of the art book with his fingers.

“Mr. Humphrey, would you mind reading out loud for the class the rest of the chapter about the Corinthian style?” The Professor asked him, out of the blue.

Dan felt like a deer caught in the headlights of a car, but tried to keep his nerve.

“Huh? Yeah, sure…” He answered, choosing in the most random way possible a paragraph where to go on from.

And when he saw the Professor smiling at him as he kept reading, Dan thanked his lucky star.

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Gathering all his stuff after the end of the umpteenth lesson of that day, Dan checked his watch: five minutes to Midday.

He trotted his way upstairs, walking towards the corridors, until he reached the male bathroom.

“So glad you came, Humphrey!” Chuck greeted him, smiling. 

He was lying on the ground, his back against the wall, his tie a bit loosened.

His expression was so relaxed. Way too relaxed.

-So I guess we are not going to smoke together because he already did on his own!- Dan pondered.

“Come closer, Humphrey, I swear that I won't bite.” He chuckled. “Unless you don’t ask me to.”

- He’s still so high!- Dan draws his conclusions, walking closer to him.

“I’m still wondering why you decided to thank me after so many years…”

“Sit down, here with me.”

Dan still had to decide if that was a gentle invitation or an authoritarian command, but if in doubt he complied.

“That’s better!” Chuck smirked, patting his knee.

“I don’t want to sound pushy or anything, but I'm still waiting for a reply and I don’t have all day long, only the time of a break.”  Dan insisted.

“There’s plenty of time, trust me.” Chuck smirked. “To answer your persistent question, just like I said in my note, I wanted to thank you. Your poem/essay. I still remember it. Well not the poetic verses themselves, but the concept.The way you said my hands accompany my gestures, or how my hand can hold a pen as if it was wielding a sword.” He confessed, sliding closer. “The way my hands can torture each other, when I’m a little nervous. And then you said that one day they would caress someone special.”

“Well, even more than someone, judging by how many girls you conquered.” Dan chuckled nervously.

The whole situation is just so awkward.

“Conquered girls. Countless.” Chuck stated, so, so calmly. “Even some guys.”

“Gu-guys?” Dan jolted, even more when he saw Chuck bringing a hand towards his face. 

“Special one caressed. None. So far. But pretty close to the goal.”

Dan moved away before he could touch his face.

He was about to even get up, but Chuck yanked him down, by the jacket.

“Why are you so nervous, Humphrey? What scares you so much?” He meowed, sensually.

- You. The tone you’re using with me. The way you’re staring at me, with those narrow, yet so intense dark eyes. The elegance of your hands, despite that stupid ring. Your so androgynous charm, no wonder how you can beguile guys, too… What?!- 

Dan was puzzled by his own thoughts, but chose to keep silent.
And mostly, he chose to stay.

- Oh, Humphrey, if only you'd just let yourself go. It could be so much fun, for both. - Chuck got lost in his fantasies not so impossible to fulfill, as he went on with his seduction.

“If I were you, I’d take the jacket off; it might start to get hotter here.” Chuck clicked his tongue, taking his jacket off, as well, along with his pinky monogrammed ring.
 

Without even asking himself why he was doing that, Dan took his jacket off.

“But… there’s no way to lock the general door and.. I don’t want to move in the toilet cubicle…”

Dan was shocked also by the words he uttered out loud.

Chuck chuckled.

“Don’t worry. If I asked everyone to keep far from here, trust me, they will. I’m Chuck Bass.”
 

“So… what… What are you planning to do?” Dan wondered, already fearing the answer.

“Back to that time, it would have been a tad untimely, but if you wrote that essay now, you should add something else my hands can do so, so good.” Chuck informed him, sliding closer.
 

Dan barely figured out that those hands were undoing his belt, but definitely noticed when the right one was massaging his crotch, still covered by his pants.
 

“What the fuuuck are you doing?” Dan cursed, jolting.

“To be honest, this is the best way to thank you that came to my mind, and you don't seem disappointed at all!” Chuck smirked, pulling down the zipper. “What about a little closer contact?”

Saying so, he lowered Dan’s pants enough to expose his boxers and his slender fingers crossed the band, getting in touch with the hot flesh.

Dan jolted even more, as he could feel his cock awakening.

- Geez! Hey, you, stupid traitor, down there… We weren’t supposed to like this sooo much!- He groaned.

A sound that Chuck definitely liked, as he went on with his ministrations.

“Do you want more?” Chuck politely asked, bending over his ear.

Even his voice excited Dan more than he could have ever imagined.

He nodded, but before Chuck could pull down his boxers, he grabbed both of his hands in his.

“But first, tell me… Why me? Why do you think I’m special?”

“It’s just the way you don’t try to do anything to be noticed that makes you so special. The way you seem to live in your own world, always holding a pen and a notebook, drawing inspiration from everything. And let’s also add your bewildered attitude.”

“Oh…” Dan murmured, surprised. “OH!”

Chuck hadn’t lost any other time and had pulled down Dan’s boxers.
His cock stood up, shamelessly erect.

And Chuck stared at it, proud and eager.

- Looks like this little poet is not so little. - He mused. 

Now that he had more space to act, his hands were free to do incredible things to Dan.

“Oh God!” He moaned, arching his back.

Chuck seemed to know what he liked, even better than himself.

But when the rich, unpredictable guy tried to kiss him, Dan moved his face away.

“N-no, please. No kissing. This situation is already quite weird as it is!” Dan pleaded and Chuck respected his decision.

- Next time maybe you’ll change your mind about it. - He smugly hoped, as he kept focusing on Dan’s pleasure.

Up. And down. And up again.
Slow. Faster. Slowing down. then increasing the pace.
Alternating his attention both to his cock and his balls.

Dan bit his lips, trying not to scream.
His eyes were closed, otherwise he would have noticed how Chuck was devouring him with his.

“Almost theeere. Bit faster…aahhh, that’s it, yeaah.” He moaned, totally forgetting where he was, what was happening and mostly who was making him feel this way.

“Glad I’ve already lowered your pants and boxers, because things are about to become a little messy!” Chuck giggled, with a final, crucial squeeze.

He moved away right before Dan came, handing him some paper tissues to clean himself.

“So.. how was it?” Chuck asked as he wore his jacket and ring again.

“Huh. Good, but different.” Dam mumbles, as he still needed some seconds to recover. “I mean… usually it’s only me doing this… stuff… to myself!” He confessed, probably because he wasn’t lucid enough yet. “And .. huh. I’m glad your stupid ring didn’t get in the way!”

Chuck grinned triumphally.

“Ohhh, so I’m the first, my precious virgin boy.” He traced Dan’s face and chin with his index. “Well, Humprhey, know that I call dibs on being the first to do many other things to you and with you.”

That was enough to make Dan fully recover.

He got up quickly, dressing again.

“What? Noooo, no, no, no! It ends right here where it started. You wanted to thank me and you did. See ya, but never again so close!” He left in a hurry, leaving Chuck giggling, amused.

- You may think that it’s over, my Precious, but I beg to differ. -
 

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At the end of that wild, wild school day, Dan got home, placing his bag on the bed.

He took his diary, contemplating if he wanted to frame that morning in his memories or not.
He decided he did.

As he was in the middle of his writing, his phone chimed.

A text message from an unknown number.

Dan decided to open it anyway.

‘Hello, Precious. You were so out of this world after what I did to you that you didn’t even notice I took your phone for a while. So, this is my number. C.’

Dan smiled, despite the whole absurd situation, wanting to challenge him a little bit.

‘Well, thank you for providing me with a number I’ll never need to use. D.’

In the Upper East side, in a suite of his father’s hotel, Chuck smiled, reading that reply.

He started typing.

‘What happened today can remain one time only or… lead to more. Your choice, Precious. Although something tells me you wouldn’t mind having a reason for writing a poem even about my mouth. Or proving me how wrong that time the teacher was about the poem you wrote about yours. And, for the record, my suite happens to be much more comfortable and  private than a shabby school bathroom. C’

Dan threw the mobile on the bed and scratched his hair, frustrated.

The fresh, hot, so hot memories flooding his mind.
Added to the tempting offer to have more.
Do more, too.

- Maybe it’s not so over as I guessed. -

--

THE END