While both relationships are on rocky terms, Brittany and Blaine get drunk and sex each other up. Great. Kurt and Santana are *not* going to be happy.
[linelinelinelineKlaine!linelinelinelineBrittanna!line]
He shouldn't have been surprised to find himself in bed with Brittany after the night of a drunken sleepover. Blaine was a bad drunk and from what he knew, Brittany associated booze with sex.
Which was bad. Blaine tended to be a bit of a "bisexual drunk" (at least, that's what Puck had said) and when Brittany kissed him, he had no problems with kissing her back. He also had no problems when she started pulling his clothes off or when he began helping her. No problems with her directing them to the bed. No problems with running his hands over her as she did the same to him.
As she trailed a line of open-mouthed kisses from his mouth and down his body. When he tangled his fingers in her long blonde hair and she looked up at him with those oh-so-blue eyes that reminded him of Kurt. Blaine felt the blood rush out of his head and he rolled out of Brittany's bed, staggering toward the bathroom. The blonde didn't even twitch as the sound of Blaine being sick floated from down the hall.
[linelinelinelineKlaine!linelinelinelineBrittanna!line]
Brittany was feeling hysterical. And sore. And a little drunk… still. She could hear someone — Blaine — in her bathroom, but she remained perfectly still in her bed apart from the light rise and fall of her breathing. She felt gross and horrible about sleeping with Blaine.
Even though they had broken up, Brittany still loved 'Tana and Blaine still loved Kurtie. Who would, most likely, be pissed at the both of them for sleeping together. Even though no one was together anymore. The blonde felt tears prick her eyes. She was awful.
Awful for dragging Blaine's clothes off and kissing him. Awful for leading him to the bed and enjoying the power she had held over him last night. For looking in his wide, pupil blown eyes that were nearly black with lust. All she had been able to see was black and a thin ring of gold surrounding it.
The darkness reminded her of Santana.
Brittany began to cry silently as she climbed out of the bed, pulling on a too-big shirt — Blaine's probably — and a pair of bow tie patterned boxers — also Blaine's — before heading downstairs in the empty house. Empty except for her… and Blaine.
[linelinelinelineKlaine!linelinelinelineBrittanna!line]
Later in the day, Blaine staggered down the stairs, the pounding in his head reduced to a dull ache. As she stepped out of the hall, something caught his eye. Brittany sat on the couch, dressed in the curly haired boy's clothes and Lord Tubbington on her lap. Blaine felt awkward wearing just his jeans and the Cheerio-themed bathrobe he had pulled on when he couldn't find the rest of his clothes.
The blonde lifted her head and he felt a stab of guilt and self-loathing at seeing her red-rimmed and puffy eyes.
"Hey Britt," Blaine croaked, feeling tears gather in his eyes and spill down his face. Brittany stayed silent but removed the fat cat from her lap and held her arms open in a silent offer to her friend. Blaine stumbled into her arms and buried his face in her neck, — beneath the lingering smell of sex she smelled like something sweet and earthy and like *Brittany* — clutching at her as desperately as she held him.
"We messed up pretty bad…" she sniffled.
"Yeah, I think we did, too."
[linelinelinelineKlaine!linelinelinelineBrittanna!line]
A/N: Yay! My first Glee!fic! Anyways, Silly Lilly Lolly and I have met in real life and been producing thousands of plot bunnies ever since. Which is all kinds of awesome really. She prompted and titled this, in fact, and wrote the companion piece: Sex in the City. Which you should all go read. Now. Because it is the other half to this whole universe we've created together. And while you're at it, read the rest of her stories. They're really good and full of fluffy goodness.