Fic: Dirty Sexy Money/Gossip Girl
Nov. 15th, 2008 08:17 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
Title: This is Hardcore
Fandom: Dirty Sexy Money/Gossip Girl
Pairing: Jeremy Darling/Chuck Bass, Jeremy Darling/Nola Lyons, implied other relationships
Rating: NC-17
Disclaimer: Gossip Girl and Dirty Sexy Money belong to the CW and ABC respectively and many other people who aren't me.
Summary: When Bart won't give Chuck the funds to save the bar Chuck turns to an old friend for help.
Spoilers: The Chuck Also Rises and DSM S2E4
Acknowledgments: Thank you
mskatej for the song,
allegraconbrio for the audiencing, and
mosca for the beta - especially the New Yorkifying -you really helped make this shine.
Author's Note: For
moosesal because I love you.
You are hardcore, you make me hard.
You name the drama and I'll play the part.
It seems I saw you in some teenage wet dream.
I like your get up if you know what I mean.
Pulp
He's buried so deep in Nola that he can hardly remember his own name when he hears his phone for what seems like the millionth time that afternoon. He closes his eyes and thrusts up further, deeper. He's trying to resist moving to the rhythm of the ringtone but he can't stop pulling her hips down slow and sinuous to the beat, he feels her start to shiver, gasping for breath as she reaches between them and rubs herself, her breathy sighs incapable of drowning out the sound of This is Hardcore.
She climaxes before him and he lets himself think about the person calling him. Jeremy has never been one to believe in self-restraint so as Nola collapses on top of him, he rolls her over and presses his finger to her lips. Her mouth opens immediately and she sucks his finger in, getting it nice and wet then he reaches behind himself to slides it in his own ass. His phone rings again, he imagines the caller behind him, fucking him into Nola and that's it. He's shooting hard, vision whiting out, Nola laughs softly while she runs her fingers through his hair and Pulp echoes through the apartment.
Nola kicks him out shortly thereafter. Clark's waiting in the limousine outside her building and Jeremy waves him off before he can get out and open the door for him. He settles in the back pouring himself a glass of champagne as he checks his phone.
15 text messages
15 voice mails
2 Gossip Girl alerts
He dismisses the Gossip Girl alerts, since they aren't as much fun with Juliet out of town and out of touch. He doesn't bother reading the text messages or listening to the voice mails, he hits speed dial 666 and waits.
"What the fuck have you been doing?"
"I think the better question is who have I been doing."
The wicked chuckle curls Jeremy's toes. "Do tell Mr. Darling."
"Can't." He really can't. He wants to and he will, as soon as the trial is over, or before if it means keeping his mom out of jail. Jeremy can hear the tell-tale sound of ice against glass and knocks back his glass of champagne. "I need you."
"You always need me now that Archibald isn't talking to you." He pours another glass.
"I need you for your money." There's another rattle of ice and Jeremy has to admit, if only to himself, that he's intrigued.
"Tell me."
"I'm sending an address. Meet me there."
Chuck hangs up, and Jeremy gives the address to Clark, who makes an immediate illegal left onto Ninth Ave.
~*~
"Brooklyn?" He asks Clark as he steps out of the limousine. "Are you sure this is the right address?" Clark's eye roll is all the answer he needs.
Jeremy looks around. The buildings are too short. The sidewalks too dirty. The hoboes too resigned to their fates.
Regardless, he sees Chuck right where he said he would be through the ancient window. Sitting inside at the bar talking to an old black man. He goes inside the crumbling building and heads straight for Chuck. Jeremy throws an arm around his shoulder and drops a wet smacking kiss on his forehead.
"You called?" He sees a girl lurking in the shadows of a nearly hidden stairwell. Her wavy black hair and mocha skin are pretty enough, but it's the look on her face that catches his attention half-disbelief, half-spite, completely-horny.
"I want to buy this building."
Jeremy looks around, absently ruffles Chuck's hair and shrugs. "Why? It's old, it's not hip, and it's certainly no Victrola."
The old man snorts and shakes his head muttering under his breath as he walks off. "History. Joe Kennedy used to party here." Jeremy tunes him out as he spins a tale of debauchery and scandal, letting his chin rest on Chuck's shoulder. He's going to do whatever Chuck asks because Jeremy hasn't seen him this animated since spring. "This place?" Chuck concludes hands out wide, fingers spread wide. "Does not deserve to be torn-down."
Jeremy blows his bangs out of his eyes and spins Chuck around on his bar stool. "Fine, fine. You want to buy the building and I even understand why. Go ahead and buy it."
"Dad blocked the deal." That's new. And very surprising, he'll have to let it drop over dinner next time Tripp is in a snit that Bass Sr. is limiting new real estate purchases.
"I thought you could buy all the real estate you wanted."
"I can." Chuck picks up the glass that's been sitting on the bar and twirls its contents so that the ice clinks against the glass. "Or I could, until now. Dad's working on the family image for some deal he's in the middle of. We're supposed to be on our very best Brady Bunch behavior." Chuck sneers into his glass before sipping. "Apparently his under-age son buying bars doesn't fit that image. Even if it's part of the noble goal of getting the building registered as a historical landmark."
"Dude. You've got millions in your off-shore accounts. Fucking buy the building already."
Chuck grits his teeth and pulls away turning his I-hate-you-so-much-glare-number-12 at Jeremy and he can't help but preen a little beneath it's weight. He loves that glare. It gets him hot and bothered every time. "That money is tied up right now."
"Please." Jeremy slides his arm back around Chuck's shoulder and squeezes his arm. "There's no way Victrola isn't liquid enough for you to pull this off."
The hate in the glare ratchets up to I'm-shooting-lasers-at-you-with-my-eyes and Jeremy feels it all the way down to his toes.
"Dude. What have you done?" He can feel Chuck vibrating beneath his arm and can't resist leaning over him a bit more and stealing his drink. Chuck is glaring at his hands now instead of Jeremy and Jeremy realizes suddenly exactly where Chuck's money is tied up. "No way." Chuck shrugs his arm off and Jeremy throws back his head and laughs. "You soft bastard." He jumps up on the bar, slides across the scarred wooden top and hops off the other side. He picks up and discards several bottles on the mirrored shelves until he finds a bottle of Tanqueray and a nearly empty bottle of vermouth and mixes them both martinis, whistling tunelessly all the while. The girl is still hiding in the shadows of the stairs and Jeremy can't resist winking at her. She stares at him expression unchanging. He's a bit disappointed that she doesn't even have the decency to blush.
He slides Chuck's martini across the bar with a flourish and holds his own up in a toast. "Here's to friendship."
"Jeremy." Chuck hisses his name like it's a warning.
"May the Nate Archibalds and pretty dark haired girls of the world know that Chuck Bass is a soft fucker who will destitute himself for others."
"Fuck. You."
Jeremy clinks his glass against Chuck's and smiles. "Before or after I transfer the money?"
The laser-glare reduces somewhat and Chuck picks up his own glass and sips. "I've always preferred during."
"Will this be a strictly short-term loan or a partnership?"
The I-hate-you-glare completely disappears and Chuck's back to his usual cantankerous self. "Short-term limited partnership." Chuck sips his martini before reaching in the glass and pulling an olive out of the bottom of the glass with his fingers. He holds it up and Jeremy leans across the bar and opens his mouth. Chuck drops the olive in his mouth, letting his fingers trace Jeremy's lips. Jeremy rolls the olive across his tongue and sucks the tips of Chuck's fingers before chewing the olive and swallowing it down.
Jeremy bats his eyes at Chuck's drawn-in breath. "Will there be a dominant partner?"
"You Darlings and your power dynamics."
Jeremy hops over the bar and moves to stand between Chuck's spread thighs. "You Basses and your ... creative definition of partnership. You learned at your Father's knee the same as I did that there's always a dominant partner." Jeremy waits until Chuck sips his martini before leaning in to lick the taste of gin from his lips.
Chuck opens his mouth, receives Jeremy's kiss, pushes into him when Jeremy rocks against his thigh. "I suppose if I had siblings to fight with for Dad's attention I'd be more interested in the power play." He stands then and pushes Jeremy against the bar. Jeremy leans back propping his elbows on the bar and tilts his head back for the bite Chuck prefers to a kiss. "You know I prefer to let these situations play out on their own."
Jeremy laughs as Chuck licks and bites his way down his throat. "That's bullshit." Chuck's hand trails down his body and as it reaches Jeremy's belt he grabs his wrist and reverses their position. "You use that line on all the boys and girls, but I know better. I know you Chuck. As long as we both reach a satisfying conclusion, you'll be ecstatic with the deal. Now be still and let me kiss you." Jeremy uses his hands and hips to anchor Chuck in place. Fingertips resting on his jaw, the other hand wrapping around the nape of Chuck's neck. He kisses Chuck thoroughly, slow and deep, pulling back to nibble on his lips before diving back inside. They're both hard, not rocking or grinding against each other, not yet - just feeling and anticipating what's to come.
"You taste like pussy." Jeremy laughs into Chuck's mouth.
"You," he jabs Chuck in the chest with his finger. "Are absolutely right. How about we make me taste like you?"
"You are such a slut." Chuck says starting to rock against Jeremy
"And you're not?" Jeremy drops to his knees and has Chuck out and in his hands in seconds. Jeremy breathes against the tip and looks up at Chuck from beneath his bangs. Chuck's wearing his bored face and Jeremy decides to drop the tease and get down to business. He kisses the tip, traces his tongue along the crown, probes inside the slit once and then swallows Chuck down. Gratified by Chuck's hiss he swallows repeatedly against Chuck's familiar length before drawing back and sucking lightly on the head. It doesn't take long, a minute maybe two, before Chuck's tugging on Jeremy's hair in warning then shooting in Jeremy's open mouth, a few drops scatter across his face. Chuck pulls him to his feet and immediately licks them away.
"That was far too quick for you, not getting any lately?" Jeremy can't help but smirk.
"Fuck off." Chuck tucks himself away and fastens his pants. He checks his reflection in the mirror and heads for the door. "I'll be in the limo. We're finishing this at my place."
Jeremy drains both their martinis and heads to the stairwell. She is sitting there looking shell-shocked.
"Give it." Jeremy holds out his hand and she hands him her cell phone. He scrolls through the images until he finds the ones of him and Chuck. Nothing too incriminating, a couple of kisses. The bar had kept the good stuff hidden from view. Still it's enough for Gossip Girl to report. He forwards the pictures to himself and deletes them from the camera. "I hope you enjoyed the show?" He makes it a question but doesn't wait for her response. "I would have invited you back to Chuck's place to join us if I hadn't found these. Naughty, naughty." He wags his finger at her before returning her phone and turns to leave. "Better luck next time." He calls over his shoulder and lets the door bang shut behind him.
He heads toward the waiting limousine. Chuck left the door to the car open he's already poured champagne as Jeremy slides inside the car and takes the offered glass. "Did you get the pictures?"
"Please, who do you think you're talking to?" Jeremy clinks his glass against Chuck's. "Do you want me to wait until you're inside me before I call my broker?"
"Hmm." Chuck unties his bow-tie and lets the ends hang loose. "I think it would be better if you made the call while my tongue is in your ass."
Jeremy's hard-on throbs and he gives himself a squeeze. "Sold."
Fandom: Dirty Sexy Money/Gossip Girl
Pairing: Jeremy Darling/Chuck Bass, Jeremy Darling/Nola Lyons, implied other relationships
Rating: NC-17
Disclaimer: Gossip Girl and Dirty Sexy Money belong to the CW and ABC respectively and many other people who aren't me.
Summary: When Bart won't give Chuck the funds to save the bar Chuck turns to an old friend for help.
Spoilers: The Chuck Also Rises and DSM S2E4
Acknowledgments: Thank you
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Author's Note: For
![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
You are hardcore, you make me hard.
You name the drama and I'll play the part.
It seems I saw you in some teenage wet dream.
I like your get up if you know what I mean.
Pulp
He's buried so deep in Nola that he can hardly remember his own name when he hears his phone for what seems like the millionth time that afternoon. He closes his eyes and thrusts up further, deeper. He's trying to resist moving to the rhythm of the ringtone but he can't stop pulling her hips down slow and sinuous to the beat, he feels her start to shiver, gasping for breath as she reaches between them and rubs herself, her breathy sighs incapable of drowning out the sound of This is Hardcore.
She climaxes before him and he lets himself think about the person calling him. Jeremy has never been one to believe in self-restraint so as Nola collapses on top of him, he rolls her over and presses his finger to her lips. Her mouth opens immediately and she sucks his finger in, getting it nice and wet then he reaches behind himself to slides it in his own ass. His phone rings again, he imagines the caller behind him, fucking him into Nola and that's it. He's shooting hard, vision whiting out, Nola laughs softly while she runs her fingers through his hair and Pulp echoes through the apartment.
Nola kicks him out shortly thereafter. Clark's waiting in the limousine outside her building and Jeremy waves him off before he can get out and open the door for him. He settles in the back pouring himself a glass of champagne as he checks his phone.
15 text messages
15 voice mails
2 Gossip Girl alerts
He dismisses the Gossip Girl alerts, since they aren't as much fun with Juliet out of town and out of touch. He doesn't bother reading the text messages or listening to the voice mails, he hits speed dial 666 and waits.
"What the fuck have you been doing?"
"I think the better question is who have I been doing."
The wicked chuckle curls Jeremy's toes. "Do tell Mr. Darling."
"Can't." He really can't. He wants to and he will, as soon as the trial is over, or before if it means keeping his mom out of jail. Jeremy can hear the tell-tale sound of ice against glass and knocks back his glass of champagne. "I need you."
"You always need me now that Archibald isn't talking to you." He pours another glass.
"I need you for your money." There's another rattle of ice and Jeremy has to admit, if only to himself, that he's intrigued.
"Tell me."
"I'm sending an address. Meet me there."
Chuck hangs up, and Jeremy gives the address to Clark, who makes an immediate illegal left onto Ninth Ave.
"Brooklyn?" He asks Clark as he steps out of the limousine. "Are you sure this is the right address?" Clark's eye roll is all the answer he needs.
Jeremy looks around. The buildings are too short. The sidewalks too dirty. The hoboes too resigned to their fates.
Regardless, he sees Chuck right where he said he would be through the ancient window. Sitting inside at the bar talking to an old black man. He goes inside the crumbling building and heads straight for Chuck. Jeremy throws an arm around his shoulder and drops a wet smacking kiss on his forehead.
"You called?" He sees a girl lurking in the shadows of a nearly hidden stairwell. Her wavy black hair and mocha skin are pretty enough, but it's the look on her face that catches his attention half-disbelief, half-spite, completely-horny.
"I want to buy this building."
Jeremy looks around, absently ruffles Chuck's hair and shrugs. "Why? It's old, it's not hip, and it's certainly no Victrola."
The old man snorts and shakes his head muttering under his breath as he walks off. "History. Joe Kennedy used to party here." Jeremy tunes him out as he spins a tale of debauchery and scandal, letting his chin rest on Chuck's shoulder. He's going to do whatever Chuck asks because Jeremy hasn't seen him this animated since spring. "This place?" Chuck concludes hands out wide, fingers spread wide. "Does not deserve to be torn-down."
Jeremy blows his bangs out of his eyes and spins Chuck around on his bar stool. "Fine, fine. You want to buy the building and I even understand why. Go ahead and buy it."
"Dad blocked the deal." That's new. And very surprising, he'll have to let it drop over dinner next time Tripp is in a snit that Bass Sr. is limiting new real estate purchases.
"I thought you could buy all the real estate you wanted."
"I can." Chuck picks up the glass that's been sitting on the bar and twirls its contents so that the ice clinks against the glass. "Or I could, until now. Dad's working on the family image for some deal he's in the middle of. We're supposed to be on our very best Brady Bunch behavior." Chuck sneers into his glass before sipping. "Apparently his under-age son buying bars doesn't fit that image. Even if it's part of the noble goal of getting the building registered as a historical landmark."
"Dude. You've got millions in your off-shore accounts. Fucking buy the building already."
Chuck grits his teeth and pulls away turning his I-hate-you-so-much-glare-number-12 at Jeremy and he can't help but preen a little beneath it's weight. He loves that glare. It gets him hot and bothered every time. "That money is tied up right now."
"Please." Jeremy slides his arm back around Chuck's shoulder and squeezes his arm. "There's no way Victrola isn't liquid enough for you to pull this off."
The hate in the glare ratchets up to I'm-shooting-lasers-at-you-with-my-eyes and Jeremy feels it all the way down to his toes.
"Dude. What have you done?" He can feel Chuck vibrating beneath his arm and can't resist leaning over him a bit more and stealing his drink. Chuck is glaring at his hands now instead of Jeremy and Jeremy realizes suddenly exactly where Chuck's money is tied up. "No way." Chuck shrugs his arm off and Jeremy throws back his head and laughs. "You soft bastard." He jumps up on the bar, slides across the scarred wooden top and hops off the other side. He picks up and discards several bottles on the mirrored shelves until he finds a bottle of Tanqueray and a nearly empty bottle of vermouth and mixes them both martinis, whistling tunelessly all the while. The girl is still hiding in the shadows of the stairs and Jeremy can't resist winking at her. She stares at him expression unchanging. He's a bit disappointed that she doesn't even have the decency to blush.
He slides Chuck's martini across the bar with a flourish and holds his own up in a toast. "Here's to friendship."
"Jeremy." Chuck hisses his name like it's a warning.
"May the Nate Archibalds and pretty dark haired girls of the world know that Chuck Bass is a soft fucker who will destitute himself for others."
"Fuck. You."
Jeremy clinks his glass against Chuck's and smiles. "Before or after I transfer the money?"
The laser-glare reduces somewhat and Chuck picks up his own glass and sips. "I've always preferred during."
"Will this be a strictly short-term loan or a partnership?"
The I-hate-you-glare completely disappears and Chuck's back to his usual cantankerous self. "Short-term limited partnership." Chuck sips his martini before reaching in the glass and pulling an olive out of the bottom of the glass with his fingers. He holds it up and Jeremy leans across the bar and opens his mouth. Chuck drops the olive in his mouth, letting his fingers trace Jeremy's lips. Jeremy rolls the olive across his tongue and sucks the tips of Chuck's fingers before chewing the olive and swallowing it down.
Jeremy bats his eyes at Chuck's drawn-in breath. "Will there be a dominant partner?"
"You Darlings and your power dynamics."
Jeremy hops over the bar and moves to stand between Chuck's spread thighs. "You Basses and your ... creative definition of partnership. You learned at your Father's knee the same as I did that there's always a dominant partner." Jeremy waits until Chuck sips his martini before leaning in to lick the taste of gin from his lips.
Chuck opens his mouth, receives Jeremy's kiss, pushes into him when Jeremy rocks against his thigh. "I suppose if I had siblings to fight with for Dad's attention I'd be more interested in the power play." He stands then and pushes Jeremy against the bar. Jeremy leans back propping his elbows on the bar and tilts his head back for the bite Chuck prefers to a kiss. "You know I prefer to let these situations play out on their own."
Jeremy laughs as Chuck licks and bites his way down his throat. "That's bullshit." Chuck's hand trails down his body and as it reaches Jeremy's belt he grabs his wrist and reverses their position. "You use that line on all the boys and girls, but I know better. I know you Chuck. As long as we both reach a satisfying conclusion, you'll be ecstatic with the deal. Now be still and let me kiss you." Jeremy uses his hands and hips to anchor Chuck in place. Fingertips resting on his jaw, the other hand wrapping around the nape of Chuck's neck. He kisses Chuck thoroughly, slow and deep, pulling back to nibble on his lips before diving back inside. They're both hard, not rocking or grinding against each other, not yet - just feeling and anticipating what's to come.
"You taste like pussy." Jeremy laughs into Chuck's mouth.
"You," he jabs Chuck in the chest with his finger. "Are absolutely right. How about we make me taste like you?"
"You are such a slut." Chuck says starting to rock against Jeremy
"And you're not?" Jeremy drops to his knees and has Chuck out and in his hands in seconds. Jeremy breathes against the tip and looks up at Chuck from beneath his bangs. Chuck's wearing his bored face and Jeremy decides to drop the tease and get down to business. He kisses the tip, traces his tongue along the crown, probes inside the slit once and then swallows Chuck down. Gratified by Chuck's hiss he swallows repeatedly against Chuck's familiar length before drawing back and sucking lightly on the head. It doesn't take long, a minute maybe two, before Chuck's tugging on Jeremy's hair in warning then shooting in Jeremy's open mouth, a few drops scatter across his face. Chuck pulls him to his feet and immediately licks them away.
"That was far too quick for you, not getting any lately?" Jeremy can't help but smirk.
"Fuck off." Chuck tucks himself away and fastens his pants. He checks his reflection in the mirror and heads for the door. "I'll be in the limo. We're finishing this at my place."
Jeremy drains both their martinis and heads to the stairwell. She is sitting there looking shell-shocked.
"Give it." Jeremy holds out his hand and she hands him her cell phone. He scrolls through the images until he finds the ones of him and Chuck. Nothing too incriminating, a couple of kisses. The bar had kept the good stuff hidden from view. Still it's enough for Gossip Girl to report. He forwards the pictures to himself and deletes them from the camera. "I hope you enjoyed the show?" He makes it a question but doesn't wait for her response. "I would have invited you back to Chuck's place to join us if I hadn't found these. Naughty, naughty." He wags his finger at her before returning her phone and turns to leave. "Better luck next time." He calls over his shoulder and lets the door bang shut behind him.
He heads toward the waiting limousine. Chuck left the door to the car open he's already poured champagne as Jeremy slides inside the car and takes the offered glass. "Did you get the pictures?"
"Please, who do you think you're talking to?" Jeremy clinks his glass against Chuck's. "Do you want me to wait until you're inside me before I call my broker?"
"Hmm." Chuck unties his bow-tie and lets the ends hang loose. "I think it would be better if you made the call while my tongue is in your ass."
Jeremy's hard-on throbs and he gives himself a squeeze. "Sold."