A/N:These will be a few little Pucktana moments of friendship in relation to the Brittana relationship. This one is Santana asking him to help her pick out an outfit for her date with Britt. Mostly written because I love the idea of Pucktana being lesbros. These mini moments might not go in order, either. So, here we go. (:
He kind of sucks at this. Like, he's a dude, right? A straight dude. A straight dude who'd rather have sex than actually date someone. If it came down to a dinner at Breadstix or a quick fuck in a pool, then bring on the hot mom. Kurt would have been a way better person to go to for this issue, but he and Santana aren't exactly close and the girl needs someone who knows her to get her through this freak out. She could have asked Quinn, he thought, but Quinn was kind of having her own freak out so maybe that wasn't the best idea. And she couldn't ask Brittany because then that would look kind of pathetic. "You need more friends," Puck says to her, watching as she pulls more dresses out of her closet. He shifts uncomfortably on the edge of her bed when she shoots him a sharp glare. "I'm just saying. You need like, chick friends. Or gay guy friends. Don't you go to gay clubs? Find one there and use him for his fashion advice."
"Shut up," she snaps and he shifts again, sighing heavily. He might have gone on with it, but Santana's about ready to crawl out of her own skin she's so nervous and he kind of wants to keep his dick in tact. She had already threatened him with ripping it off and shoving it down his throat once tonight. He wouldn't put it past her, either, which was the scary thing about Santana. Girl was hot, but she was also terrifying. He loved her but damn.So he stays silent, waiting as she shimmies out of her Cheerios uniform and stands in front of her selections in nothing but her bra and panties. Lace and sheer fabric, he thinks with a sigh. Usually when he sees lingerie, it's because he's about to rip it off a hot body. It's kind of not fair that the hot ass he's currently staring at is not even paying attention to him. Her hands are on her hips as she stares at the dresses, her mind no doubt on the sexy blonde who was the object of her affections.
Not that Puck would be willing to sleep with Santana again. The last time they'd tried that, it hadn't exactly worked out. Getting called "Brittany" in the throes of passion was kind of bad for the libido. Besides, fucking Santana now would be kind of like fucking a cousin or something at this point in their friendship. Even he has some boundaries. "Try the red one," he suggests because she's taking forever to make a choice. So Santana slips her way into the thing and spins for him, asking his opinion shortly. "It's hot."
"Is it a good date dress?"
"I think you'll get laid in a heartbeat, San," he tries to reassure, but she's tearing it back off a second later and he wonders if maybe that's not what she'd going for. Which, weird, because that's always been something he and Santana have gone for. Sex. They're alike in that way. They like sex. They're good at sex. And he knows for a fact that she and Brittany have gotten it on before. As she goes through a cycle of dresses, asking his opinion on each one, he thinks back to the time they'd tried to have a threesome. It had gone well for a couple of minutes, but then it had kind of turned into Brittany and Santana having sex while he watched and got himself off. That was around the time he'd started to wonder if maybe Santana wasn't as into guy sex as she was girl sex. Not that he cared because it was hot and he was all for sexin' up whoever you wanted to sex up. It had just been weird to him to think that he'd been getting it on with a lesbian since freshman year.
Cool, but weird.
"Santana, just pick a goddamn dress," he said after she'd tried on her like, eight millionth dress or something like that. His words seemed to make her snap. He watches, horrified, as she sinks to the floor and mumbles in Spanish, her face hidden in her hands. There's panic in her voice and in between the garbled foreign slurs, he hears things like so stupidand shouldn't even bother.So Puck awkwardly gets off the bed and squats down beside her, his hand patting her shoulder. "Why don't you both just wear your uniforms?" he suggests. "I mean, it's Breadstix, not some fancy French place. That way it takes the pressure off and you can just, you know, relax or whatever." There's silence and then she sighs and slumps against him, her head falling on his shoulder. And it's kind of weird because she's in her lacy underwear still and she's still mostly naked, but he isn't about to get laid. He doesn't know where to put his hands, so he settles for just wrapping an arm around her shoulder so that he doesn't get in trouble. "You've already got your lady, San," he points out. "You've had her since you were like… four. This isn't a big deal."
"But it is!I think. Isn't it? Aren't first actual dates supposed to be big deals? But maybe it isn't a date. Maybe it's just us going to Breadstix like we have a million times before and I'm just being stupid for no reason and… and… Fuck." She sighs and shoves him away from her and he rolls his eyes when she isn't looking because he's pretty sure they've been dating since pre-school so why was this an issue? "Maybe you're right. The uniforms thing. Maybe that's a good idea." She bends and scoops it off the floor, sliding quickly back into it. He helps her with the zippers because her hands are shaking and then she's sighing, relaxing. It's a good choice.
"Come on. Let's play Mario Kart until it's time to go. It'll keep your mind on me kicking your ass instead of your date thing." She smirks and rolls his eyes, insulting his racing skills as she shoves him again and walks past, and he thinks maybe he's an okay choice for this whole thing after all.