Sink in my thoughts
Plip.
Plip.
*
Plip.
Plip.
“Do you see it, Humphrey? The faucet keeps dripping.” Chuck explains, as he shows him the bathroom of his suite.
“Yeah and this noise is already driving me mad. But what can I do about it and mostly why did you take me here?” Dan stares at him suspiciously.
“Well, it seems obvious to me: fix it!” Chuck snarls.
“What?! This is the Palace Hotel and you’re Chuck Bass. All it takes is your blink of an eye to have a horde of plumbers at your service.” Dan tries to reason with him.
Chuck chuckles, annoying Dan even more.
"Don’t you think I’m utterly aware of that? And yet I don’t want them. That’s a job for you.”
“Do you need to check my resume? I’m a writer, not a plumber!” Dan scoffs.
“Not such a talented writer, if I may be so bold. I had the misfortune to read one of your latest works.” Chuck states, as calm as sharp.
“In my defence, that was still a draft. Plus, I think you should appreciate that I chose to never publish the edited version.” Dan strikes back.
Chuck angrily rushes towards him.
“What I didn’t appreciate is the fact that you used me!” He raises his voice.
Dan stares at him, showing no sign of fear.
“You’re right. That’s a line I should have never crossed and I’ve figured it out too late.” He murmurs, his tone low.”Can you get over this?”
“Just
think of this sink as my feelings that you hurt. And before you ask;
yes, Humphrey, I do have feelings.” Chuck points out, his dark, narrow
eyes piercing Dan’s bigger ones.
“You have feelings not much deeper than a sink; so it makes the comparison very fitting.” The other teases him.
Dan gulps when he sees Chuck abruptly taking a screw wrench from the tool kit beneath the sink.
“Uh! Trust me, Chuck, this is not the best way to welcome criticism.” He mutters, backing off.
Chuck giggles.
“As tempting as it may be, I’m not going to use it to harm you, I was just about to hand it to you.” He clarifies, doing that in the process.
“But I have no idea what to do with it.” Dan protests.
“That’s the fun part.” Chuck sneers. “A good starting point could be to take off your jacket.”
And that’s what Dan does, folding it carefully and placing it on the shelf.
“C’mon, Humphrey, I don’t have all day long and I want to see you getting your precious, artist’s hands dirty!” Chuck urges him.
With a very uncertain attitude,Dan grabs the wrench
and slides beneath the sink drains, his back on the floor that, at
least, seems to be very clean.
He also took a torch from the case, studying that area better.
"Guess I saw Dad once doing something like this..." Dan grumbles, taking the screw wrench and starting to tighten a bolt.
Surprisingly it seems to work because the leaking of the sink diminishes.
"Looks like you're so much better than you think, Humphrey. " Chuck kneels down to his direction.
“Why don’t you try that, too?” Dan offers, handing to him a second screw wrench from the case. “But if you do, I suggest you take off your precious jacket and scarf.”
Normally Chuck would scoff and tell Humphrey to mind
his business, because he would never reach his same level,
metaphorically speaking or not.
Instead, in a completely unexpected way, he follows his advice and gets rid of those bits of clothing, reaching his same spot.
Because there’s something in Dan’s tone, in the way he looked at him.
Something that screams ‘escaping’.
And for once, he does want to escape.
Being someone else beyond Chuck Bass.
Someone much freer.
That’s why he’s crawling with his back on the floor, the sleeves of his purple shirt rolled up, his hand taking that plumber tool from Dan’s hand.
“Try to do the same thing I did.” Dan instructs him.
Chuck does and the faucet stops leaking.
But immediately after they hear a strange noise.
“Chuck, did you turn off the water before letting me work on that… right?” Dan asks.
“Oh. That would have been a wise thing to do.”
Chuck has barely the time to say that, before under such pressure one of the pipes explodes.
The water splashes all over them, spreading all over the floor.
That’s when Chuck finally recalls where the water switch is and turns it off.
But when it does, the bathroom is already half flooded.
Slowly he turns to Dan, but instead of finding him angry, he looks visibly amused.
So much that he bursts out laughing.
“I swear I haven't had so much fun for ages. I mean, fun that you can have without weird pills.” He clarifies, still giggling.
His good humor is so contagious that Chuck ends up laughing as well.
Probably something he hasn’t done for such a long time.
“We’re so soaked!” Dan laughs, getting up, as the other reaches him. “And look at your hair!”
“Said the one who looks like a wet dog.” Chuck strikes back. “And
don't even think to take a picture of me like this and send it to Gossip
Girl or I’ll..”
“You’ll what?” Dan downplays. “C’mon, Chuck, instead of wasting
time with your threats, we’d better take off these drenched clothes. I
don’t know about you, but I don’t wanna catch a flu.”
Saying so Dan takes off his T-shirt, throwing it on the wet floor.
He reveals a chest that Chuck didn’t expect to be so muscular and… appealing.
Not that he pays attention to guys’ chests, of course.
Chuck is about to mirror Dan’s actions, but Dan anticipates him.
He unbuttons his shirt under Chuck’s puzzled stare, especially when his hand starts to caress the exposed, wet skin.
“What… What the hell are you doing Humphrey?” He asks him, bewildered.
He would never confess, not even if someone tortured him, but he’s liking that Brooklyn guy’s touch.
A lot.
Dan chuckles.
“Just adding fun to the fun.”
Chuck barely notices that his chest is already bare, just like Dan’s.
The writer’s hand traces his shoulders, forearms and back with a naturalness that puzzles the young businessman even more.
“Stop it, Humphrey!” He snaps, nervous.
He hates not to be in control of his own feelings.
Dan chuckles again.
“Do you find it funny, Humphrey?” Chuck frowns.
“Oh yes, Bass. A lot.”
- Has he always been so damn cocky?- Chuck asks himself, more and more confused.
“I found it so fun how your lips say something, while your eyes beg to differ.” Dan murmurs.
“Oh, really? Now I’m curious… What are my eyes saying, Humphrey?”
- Wait a minute. This is my flirting tone. I recognize it. Why am I using it with him? - Chuck figures out, growing agitated.
“To begin with, they know that you’re free to touch me, as well.” Dan invites him. “They’re wondering if my chest is as smooth as it looks, what it’s like to draw a finger upon my collarbone, to put a hand on my not so defined abs, to hold me tighter to you. And I think your eyes should just stop wondering about all of this.”
Chuck brings his hand to his chest, testing its smoothness, playing with his hard nipples.
He caresses his neck, grab his shoulder and goes down until he’s holding his waist firmly, pulling Dan closer to him.
And he’s enjoying all of this more than he could have ever guessed.
The way Dan is staring at him tells him he’s not the only one appreciating that weird situation oh so much.
“So, what else are my eyes telling you, Humphrey?” Chuck questions him, as his fingertips press his skin even more.
Chuck is shamelessly flirting with him now and he couldn’t care less.
Especially when he sees Dan smirk in such a sexy way.
“They want me to do this!”
Dan stretches towards him, his hand wraps his nape to pull him closer, as his lips land with determination on Chuck’s thinner ones.
He immediately part them, too curious of finding out what it feels to have Dan’s tongue invading his mouth.
And it feels fantastic.
It just last too little, because Dan parts from him, backing off.
And yet those large, dark, lustful eyes can’t deceive the King of Manhattan.
Dan is not regretting what he did.
Dan is not afraid.
Dan is not even remotely confused.
Dan is just waiting for him to make his move.
And Chuck reminds to himself he has always been the predator.
He reaches for his prey with few, quick, determined steps, splashing the water beneath them.
He smashes his lips against the writer’s ones, kissing him possessively, hungrily, even angrily, as his hands grab his shoulders so tight he could almost hurt him.
Almost.
Dan looks anything but hurt, as his tongue duels fiercely with Chuck’s.
Chuck’s hands descend on Dan’s ass, cupping it with such impetus that they both fall on the wet floor.
Dan above Chuck.
Both Laughing.
Panting.
Aching for more.
“I’ve never kissed a guy before,” Dan feels the need pointing that out, as he nibbles Chuck’s lower lip.
“I have, because life is just too short to preclude any experience.” He growls against his lips. “But…”
“But?” Dan repeats, parting from him to stare at him better.
“This is the very first time I find myself questioning if this is even better than with girls.” He confesses as he kisses Dan’s slender neck.
His lips find the joint with the collarbone and suck the sensible skin, deeper and deeper.
Dan’s delicious moans are his reward.
“You know, Chuck, I guess it’s because guys are much more direct, they go straight to the point.” Dan explains, as his fingers toys with his nipples.
“‘Straight’ is not the most suitable word right now.” Chuck makes him chuckle, as he enjoys the sensation.
Without even asking, Dan lowers the zip of Chuck’s trousers, getting rid of them.
Chuck doesn't even try to stop him, as his hand cups his crotch, still trapped in his wet boxers.
Wet in every sense.
Dan’s hand crosses even the ultimate border, touching directly his hot flesh.
“Fuck!” Chuck curses, startling.
“Didn’t you want me to get my precious artist's hands dirty?” Dan sneers, taking every possible advantage.
His hand pumps Chuck’s cock with such a dexterity that leaves him speechless, the other hand doesn’t neglect his balls for sure.
“Please, Humphrey, don’t stop!” He pleads, getting harder and harder under his hands.
“I have no intention, Chuck. I’m going to make you feel so good, Chuck.”
“I like the way you call my name…” Chuck smiles at him.
“Said the asshole who keeps calling me just ‘Humphrey’!” Dan scoffs, making him laugh.
A laughter that gets stuck in his throat, once Dan’s hands increase their rhythm.
Dan bends down to kiss him, his hands still engrossed with their task.
“Aint’ it just perfect, Chuck, how good we can make each other feel?” Dan murmurs against his lips as he can feel how the other is close to the orgasm.
“I’m so proud to have this effect on you, Chuck. Now come for me, on my hands, Chuck… Chuck.. Chuck…”
*
“Chuck… Hey, Chuck!”
Chuck feels someone touching his shoulder, shaking him.
He stirs and opens his eyes, staring at Nate.
There’s no flooded floor.
He’s in his bed.
Dressed.
And, thanking his lucky star, the sheets are covering what could be an awkward situation to explain.
Plip.
Plip.
Plip.
The only true fact.
That leaking faucet.
It was just a dream.
“Geez, Chuck, how the hell do you manage to sleep with this constant, annoying noise?” Nate complains.
“Don’t worry, Nathaniel. I’m on my way to call a plumber to fix it.” He informs him, sitting up, still prudently covered.
“Good to know, guess I’ll be back when this place is liveable
again.” Nate shrugs, leaving Chuck alone with his still very confused
thoughts.
- I’m going to call a real plumber, this time.- He ponders, as he dials the reception number.
-It’s
almost ironic. A few days ago I teased Humphrey asking him if he was
gay…Did I turn gay? Just for him? And if I did, what am I going to do
about that?-
“Good evening, Mr. Bass, it’s Sophie speaking, what can I do for you?” The gentle voice of the receptionist welcomes him.
“Hello, Sophie, get me a plumber here in my suite, as fast as you can.” He orders.
-Let’s start with the problems that are easy to fix.-
--
THE END