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Dan makes the joke about hoping when Nate mentioned lingerie, he means for Juliet. And Nate grins, but some of the feeling lingers, which is why he finds himself calling Dan at eleven thirty on a Thursday night.
“Do you really think I couldn’t pull off lingerie?” he asks, on the call.
Dan’s laugh is rich and warm in the same way a forest in autumn is, mellow and orange-soft in the centre like a pumpkin pie. “Why, Archibald, are you considering it?” he asks.
“I just,” Nate exhales, frustrated. “Why do our girlfriends have to do all the work, you know?”
Dan’s quiet for a moment. “Lingerie for Juliet?” he asks, solemn. “You must really like her.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?” Nate asks, annoyed now.
“The only girl I would’ve even considered wearing lingerie for is probably Serena,” Dan says. “And that was a long time ago.”
“You and Serena in high school were intense, bro,” Nate offers, and the tension snaps like a torn rubber band.
Dan laughs warmly. “Yeah, I was whipped, wasn’t I? Serena and I were like, in orbit of each other. We were lovers, we were sweethearts. Hm, sounds good, doesn’t it? I should put that in an essay, send it in somewhere.”
“Not sure how Vanessa would feel about that,” Nate says, thoughtfully.
“Not like it matters, either way,” Dan says. “We fizzled out. There is no ‘me and Vanessa.’”
“Really, dude? that’s rough.”
“Oh, nah, it was a long time coming,” Dan says. He doesn’t laugh, but Nate can hear the smile in his voice. “Apparently, being platonically in love with your very attractive best friend can cause romantic confusion. Do you blame me? Vanessa is a stunner, surely you know this.”
“Huh, now we have two exes in common,” Nate says thoughtfully. “You should date Blair, up the count.”
“I’m fine with two, thanks,” Dan shoots back. “You know what I’d like to see? You in lingerie.”
“I might buy something, lots of lace,” Nate says, smiling. “Do you have any suggestions?”
And he’s saying it as a joke, but Dan’s response is immediate. “Pale blue.”
“Huh?”
“Like, try for a pastel blue,” Dan says. “But with a tint of grey, not just a super faded blue. You know the colour I’m talking about? Sort of like a sky blue, but not all summertime. A steel blue? Ugh, I don’t know how to describe colours.”
“Put a lot of thought into me in lingerie?” Nate asks, and Dan laughs again, but this time it sounds just a little forced.
“You wish, Archibald,” he says lightly, and disconnects the call.
Nate swallows, and wonders if it’s okay to ask Serena for help in buying lingerie. Blair would be his first choice, but she’d ask why, and he doesn’t really want to say that talking to Dan Humphrey about lingerie made him feel like he needed to prove he could be sexy in lace, too. He could even ask Juliet for a performance review, after.
He calls Serena. She laughs at him for fifteen minutes, but she doesn’t ask any questions.
-
Dan is the first person he calls, After.
“Nate, heyyyy,” Dan says, and he sounds enthusiastic and cheerful. “What’s up?”
“Juliet broke up with me,” Nate says.
“Aw, I’m sorry,” Dan says gently. “Her loss, man.”
“If you say so,” Nate says glumly. “You sounded really upbeat, though.”
“I got an acceptance on a submission to a magazine,” Dan tells him. “This is the first time I’ve sent in a poem, and I honestly didn’t think it would make the cut?”
“Of course it did,” Nate says, smiling. “That’s wonderful, Dan.”
“Aaarghh, it’s really nothing,” Dan says, bashful. Nate can hear the soft smile in the tone of his voice though, he can imagine the way Dan would be smiling right now. That little grin that he does when he doesn’t even intend to smile, but can’t really help it.
“No, it’s a big deal,” Nate says firmly. “Let me take you out for drinks to celebrate?”
“Okay,” Dan says.
And they get sort of drunk together. Dan leaves Nate’s place wearing Nate’s lacrosse jersey, and Nate watches him go, feeling warm inside.
-
“You know what’s really a shame?” Nate says to Dan on the phone, the next day.
Dan rises to the bait. “Do tell, I’m no telepath.”
“Juliet broke up with me before I could try out the lingerie,” Nate says, and he’s grinning, even though he knows he’s taking a gamble of sorts here. “Would be a shame if it were to go to waste, though, wouldn’t it?”
“I’m sure the lucky girl would appreciate it,” Dan says.
“What if there is no girl?” Nate asks.
“I’m not sure what you’re saying,” Dan says, and Nate almost buys it, but Dan’s nowhere near as good as Blair at pretending he has no idea what they’re talking about.
“You’re the one who suggested this,” Nate says, which is sort of unfair, but you don’t come out of having Blair and Chuck as childhood friends entirely unscathed, and he can be a bitch when he wants to be, just like them. “Please be at the loft tonight.”
“I’ll light candles,” Dan jokes.
But he actually does. And they have a fancy dinner together, and Nate kisses Dan, and Dan leads him over to his bedroom, unwraps him like a present, hands just a little shaky.
Nate will remember the way he looks for a long time – Dan, his eyes darkened by lust, a look of surprise and single-minded focus, his hands trailing Nate’s body with a sense of faint disbelief, like he doesn’t believe he gets to touch.
Nate’s never been with another man, but this isn’t just any man, this is Dan Humphrey, and they have a sort of ease around each other Nate’s never really had with anyone. The closest he got to this sort of comfort around another person was with Serena, but then again, he’s never pretended to be Serena at a level that is practically identity theft, or needed to rescue her from pre-college collegiate hazing. Being with Dan in bed is instinctual.
“Wow,” Dan says, once they’re done, smiling faintly. “So much for heterosexuality.”
Nate gives him a look like dude, really? but then Dan laughs, and his laughter is contagious. Nate cracks up too, light in the way he only ever is with Dan.
-
When Dan’s poem drops, Nate’s heart shatters.
It’s titled sky blue, and it’s an ode to a lover with beautiful blonde hair, warm summer skin, a laugh that draws him in like a magnet, gentle hands, a mouth that kisses with certainty, and eyes that are the same blue as skies and swimming pools, eyes that look at Dan and see the best in him, and it dances around the fact that this lover is very beautiful, and through the metaphors of beauty, it’s clear that the narrator of the poem is In Love. Proper, all the way, would get married at the drop of a hat kind of love.
“serena is a lucky woman,” Nate texts Dan, and then he switches off his phone. When Dan shows up at his room, Chuck happens to be out, which is unfortunate, because Nate could’ve counted on Chuck to keep Dan out.
“I don’t want to talk to you,” Nate says, aware that he’s being petulant, too hurt to care.
“Clearly, you switched off your phone,” Dan says drily. “But Nate, listen, just for a minute, please.”
And they are friends, whatever else has gone down between them, so Nate nods slightly, looks at Dan.
“The poem wasn’t about Serena,” Dan says. “It was about you.”
Of course, after that, it’s only natural for Nate to reach for Dan, take the collar of his shirt in his fists, and kiss him with the sort of desperation that is typically only found between lovers in hospitals and airports. Dan’s hands curl around Nate’s waist, and it feels inevitable, natural as breathing.
-
Nate thinks Dan’s joking when he gets a call that says, “What colour would you like me in?” and he laughs, says he’d do Dan in anything.
Still, he’s surprised when Dan shows up at the Empire, wearing Nate’s lacrosse jersey and a beat-up pair of jeans.
“How did you know Chuck wasn’t at home?” Nate asks as he opens the door, lets his boyfriend in.
“Why did you think Chuck isn’t at home?” Dan’s smiling as he says it. “I called in a favour.” He pulls off Nate’s lacrosse jersey, carefully drops it on the sofa, and pulls his jeans off his legs in the same breath.
Nate’s eyes widen. Dan’s wearing some sort of green lacy harness, something like olive green but a slightly brighter shade of green (not much brighter. Despite having dated Blair for years, Nate still doesn’t know what this shade of green is called.) The harness is a full body one, and it’s probably unisex, judging by how the translucent cloth over Dan’s nipples could work as a bralette. Paired with garters, of all things, and are those ribbons?
Nate exhales shakily, puts a hand on Dan’s thigh as if testing to see that he’s real, his other hand finding Dan’s lower back, pulling him closer.
“Like what you see?” Dan asks, smirking, but Nate can see the anxiety in his eyes.
He kisses the side of Dan’s mouth, remembering what Dan had said earlier, about not wanting to wear lingerie for anyone unless he felt something sufficiently big for them.
“Yeah,” Nate says, mouth dry. “I love it. How did you….”
“Find the colour, or the style?” Dan asks. “Whether you remember or not, my sister is an aspiring fashion designer.”
“So you asked Jenny for help?” Nate asks, raising an eyebrow. “That isn’t, I don’t know, weird?”
“Nope,” Dan says, quirking an eyebrow. “Why would it be weird?” Then, after a pause, he says, “Ah, I get it. No siblings. It was totally not weird. She laughed at me, by the way, since you asked. And then forwarded me a list of hex codes, and a catalogue. Since you’re so interested, the hex codes for these greens are #5F755E and #426F42. See, I even memorized them! And I can show you all the different greens, they were really beautiful, to be honest. More men should wear lingerie. Not that I’m into just any man in lingerie, honestly, I mean, we sort of already established that you’re like, it for me, but I think it’s weird that it’s seen as such a feminine thing, because everyone looks sexy in lace, and – ”
“Dan,” Nate says, amused despite himself. He shifts his hands, pulling Dan against him, holding him in a gentle embrace. “You’re rambling again.”
Dan laughs nervously. “Sorry,” he offers. “I’m new to this.”
“So am I, clearly,” Nate says gently. “You look incredible. And, yeah, you’re it for me, too. And as gorgeous as all this lingerie is, which, can I say, it’s impeccable, I can’t wait to get it off you.”
“Nope, you have to fuck me in the lingerie first,” Dan says, eyes full of mischief. “Speaking of. Why are we still standing here, and why are you wearing so many clothes?”
Nate pulls his clothes off, stands there in his briefs, and Dan smiles, curls his arm around Nate’s waist, and pulls him to the bedroom.
“Let me get a picture, first,” Nate says.
“As long as you don’t send it to Gossip Girl,” Dan says, reclining against the sheets.
“No,” Nate agrees. “Nobody else gets to see this.”
Dan smiles, and looks pleased. “Yeah, that’s what this is about,” he says, dorkily as ever. “I’m all yours, Archibald.”
“Best thing I’ve heard all day,” Nate says.
He hasn’t said I love you yet, and neither has Dan, but the truth of it hangs over both of them, enough so that it won’t be a surprise when one of them admits it.
Nate loves Dan; he really does.
He lies down in bed, next to him, puts his hands on Dan’s body.
“You’re the best thing that’s ever happened to me,” Dan says, quietly, like he’s talking to himself, and not to Nate.
“You happened to me,” Nate corrects. “And yeah. Absolutely, without question, the best.”
He kisses Dan again, thoroughly and tenderly. It lights him up inside, knowing that this is something that he can do. That he belongs here, with Dan.