So that was a bit of a break, my bad. I had such a hard time just starting this chapter, but once I got past the hard bit I just wrote it all out. So, sorry for the wait and sorry for any mistakes. I am posting this as quickly as I can because I don't want to make you guys wait any longer. Again, thank you so much for the reviews and favourites you guys make me smile. I hope you like this chapter. I am trying my best to keep the pace slow, but I am so bad at being patient. Bahhh. Oh well, here you go, enjoy!
The next morning, Brittany arose expecting Santana to be gone. She didn't know whether she was surprised or not to find the girl still lying beside her, fast asleep. Brittany let out a groan, noticing the sickness in her stomach and the overall shit feeling that came with a hangover. Checking the time, her eyes widened. It was almost midday! Where the hell was her mom?
She flipped the covers off and jumped to her feet.
"Santana?" She hissed, nudging the girl with her hand.
Santana muttered something sleepily and lulled her head limply to the side. After a second or two, her eyes flickered open, coming to focus in an unfamiliar room. She shot up, momentarily shocked until seeing Brittany standing before her, glaring daggers at her.
"I thought I told you to leave?" Brittany said, folding her arms in a very Santana-type manner.
Santana scoffed indignantly and rolled herself out of the oddly comfortable bed. The second she did, she missed the warmth.
"I'm surprised you even remember." Santana retorted, rubbing her eyes.
Brittany scowled at her.
"You can't remember anything, can you?" Santana asked, wondering whether she wanted Brittany to remember or not.
"Bits and pieces." Brittany said, folding her arms. It was clear that she was lying. She remembered nothing from after the game of spin the bottle.
Part of Santana was relieved, and yet part of her deflated. She didn't understand the feelings she was having, and she didn't want to.
"You still need to leave." Brittany insisted.
"Screw you." Santana snapped, standing up and gathering her belongings, clearly frustrated. "One minute you're all over me and the next you're kicking me out of your bed. Isn't this where you wanted me? In your bed? Well you've fucking got me. I'm so sick of your games, it's like I'm just a joke to you, but I am a person and I have feelings. You wont get away with treating me like shit."
Brittany listened with wide eyes, not having expected such a harsh rant. She knew she had been unfair to the girl, but she hadn't intended on making her feel like some kind of experiment. When Santana was done collecting herself, she stormed at Brittany's door and made a point of ignoring her on the way out. Brittany just stood there, flinching when the front door slammed shut.
She didn't speak to Santana for the rest of the weekend, even if she wanted to, she didn't have her phone number or anything, and they weren't friends on facebook. Brittany spent two days wallowing in self pity mixed with an unusual feeling of sexual frustration. When she thought about it, angry Santana was really hot. Like, totally 'fuck me' hot. She wondered what she'd be like in bed. Actually, Brittany often wondered about that, fantasised even. She imagined the excitement of dominating Santana, for once just making her feel like the bitch. Then again, she totally would not complain if Santana chose to top her, especially in an angry mood.
"Ugh, fuck this I need some weed." Brittany grumbled, trying to think of something that would distract her from these insatiable cravings.
She texted some of her junkie friends. Within a couple of minutes she had some replies. Some saying they were busy, but one had been successful. Her name was Skye, and she was hot. Not Santana hot, but still attractive enough to fuck. This was exactly what Brittany needed. Maybe a good fuck would lessen her borderline obsession over Santana.
So Brittany set off for the dingy old apartment where Skye lives. The block of apartments went by the name of Euphoria. Brittany snorted at the irony of it.
She knocked a couple of timed on the number nine door, waiting until the door swung open. Skye gave an enthusiastic, very much stoned greeting, flinging her arms around Brittany's neck and pulling her inside. Brittany laughed, and hugged back, kicking the door shut behind her.
"Bitch I've missed you." Skye exclaimed, slumping down on a two seat, black leather lounge.
On the table in front of her lay an odd fish ornament with a cigarette placed in its mouth. Alongside it lay a bong and a plastic bowl with about an ounce of weed in it.
"I've missed you too." Brittany replied, sitting down next to her, getting a better look at her old friend.
She was the type of sexy you wouldn't suspect. She had short blonde hair, styled in a cool, indie kind of way, and pale skin with rosy cheeks. Her arms had a couple of tattoos and she had a tongue and eyebrow piercing. Somehow, she also made wearing a wife beater and a pair of baggy sweat pants look extremely appealing. Brittany couldn't deny that she was getting turned on, or maybe the ache was still lingering from her thoughts about Santana.
"Wanna watch something?" Skye asked, holding the remote and sitting back in a comfortable position.
"Yeah, sure." Brittany replied idly, licking the outside of her teeth, still staring at the other blonde with searching eyes.
Skye turned on a movie channel that was playing some random horror movie about a girl being possessed. They both liked that twisted shit.
"Here..." Skye offered, picking up the bong and handing it to Brittany.
Brittany gladly took it, lighting up as quickly as she could. She was very eager to get high.
It only took them about twenty minutes and they were gone. Brittany lay back with a lazy grin on her face and her legs spread in a relaxed manner. Skye was much the same.
"God, I need a fuck." Brittany blurted out. Being high kind of did that to her.
"Mmm, me too." Skye agreed, leaving the two in suggestive silence.
Brittany took the bold move, walking her fingers coyly over towards Skye and trailed them up her thigh. Skye's smile broadened and her legs parted willingly. Brittany smirked, taking note of the approval and teased the inside of her thigh, dangling her fingertips through the soft fabric.
"Still the biggest lesbo in Lima then?" Skye joked, taking another hit.
Brittany let out a sarcastic laugh.
"Still think you're straight?" Brittany retorted playfully.
Ever since Brittany had met the girl drinking in a park at night, Skye had claimed to be straight. Except that was until Brittany became her casual fuck buddy. Brittany was kinda every straight girl's exception. She was hot, confident, indifferent and knew how to please.
"Shut up, Pierce, and stop teasing you whore." Skye grunted, becoming impatient with Brittany's slow, torturous journey up her inner thigh.
"Oooh, fiesty today aren't we?" Brittany taunted, taking that moment to firmly cup the girl's centre.
Skye let out a surprised gasp, her body stiffening as Brittany pressed her palm down with intent. Brittany bit her lip, she had missed the warmth between a girl's legs, and those high little whimpers and moans.
All within the span of about a minute, Brittany was straddling the girl's hips, her hand pumping furiously between her legs.
"Fuck, Britt- oh! Yeah, right there!" Skye moaned, her head thrown back in wanton desire.
Brittany on the other hand was focusing on concentrating. She wasn't getting the usual rush, the throb between her legs. It felt mundane, like a chore. It almost made her feel dirty. Then it happened, she wasn't fucking Skye, she was fucking Santana. For a split second she froze, but not long enough to be noticeable. She closed her eyes, blocking out all noise, focusing on the feeling. If she could just pretend that it was Santana writhing beneath her, three fingers buried deep inside of her.
"Fuck..." Brittany gasped, her breath hitching as a jolt of arousal shot straight between her legs.
It actually worked.
She picked up her pace, determined.
"I-I'm gonna cum." Skye announced, arching her back.
Brittany kept her pace, repeating Santana's name in her head like a mantra. A couple of seconds later, Skye came, moaning out her pleasure, holding Brittany close. Brittany immediately noticed that she didn't smell like Santana, she didn't feel comforted by the touch. It all felt so wrong. She felt guilty.
"Yeah, you still got it." Skye laughed, her chest still heaving.
"I-I'm sorry, I gotta go." Brittany jumped back, quickly collecting herself.
"The fuck?" Skye spat, frowning in confusion.
Brittany didn't even bother trying to explain herself, her head was racing a million miles an hour. She ran out of apartment and bolted down the stairs, running until she reached her car. She sped home, flopping onto her bed with an agitated groan.
"You idiot!" Brittany yelled at herself into her pillow.
She groaned again and rolled onto her back, staring up at her roof. Wondering if she had really just pictured Santana while screwing some hot piece of ass. Never had any girl done that to her head; fuck her up so emotionally that she couldn't function without thinking of them.
Except for Eve.
"Fuuuuuuuck!" Brittany growled, more frustrated than ever.
As if she needed anything else to ruin her day, the front door creaked open. Brittany shot up and walked out to the hallway, seeing her mom entering the house. Brittany watched, surveying her. Just like she had assumed, her mom pulled out a bottle of wine from a brown paper bag. She didn't even bother pouring a glass, she simply drank from the bottle.
Brittany rolled her eyes and made note to softly close her door behind her. As most nights went, Brittany found what she could for dinner, avoiding her mom at all costs. She lay on her bed from eight o'clock until finally dozing off at about eleven. It hadn't been easy with her racing thoughts, and her dreams were just as confusing as her waking thoughts.
She woke Monday to the familiar ringing of her alarm.
"Shut up, piece of shit." She demanded in a groggy voice, waving her arm around until finally banging the piece of plastic, shutting it up.
Sleep hadn't helped. She still felt confused and frustrated. Because how dare Santana do this to her. Make her feel. They hardly even knew each other!
Brushing off the thought, Brittany got dressed into a leather jacket and pulled on a pair of skinny jeans. It was cold outside, so she decided to wear a beanie. It was black and had a white bobble on the top.
She strode into the school hallways, minding her own business when fucking Santana decides to be standing right in her line of sight. So not fair. She hated how her heart skipped, how her brain froze up.
"Hey, you!" Brittany called harshly, walking towards Santana who snapped her head, giving her a confused, suspicious look.
"Jeez, calm your tits Pierce." Santana said, closing her locker to face the taller girl.
Before Brittany even had a chance to be angry with her, Santana's lips curled into a sneaky grin.
"What?" Brittany asked defensively.
"Cute beanie." Santana said in a teasing voice. However, she really did think it was cute. She loved that Brittany could pretend to be such a badass and sometimes just fail so miserably. The girl looked like the picture of innocence. Except for her bad attitude and anger problems.
"Fuck off." Brittany snapped weakly, pulling the beanie off her head.
"You came to me." Santana replied simply.
Brittany rolled her eyes, suddenly feeling bad for being such an asshole. Her expression softened, almost into a pout.
"Something wrong?" Santana asked, actually sounding like she cared.
Brittany must have been hallucinating, because Santana didn't give a shit about anyone. She was the ice queen, the coldest bitch at Mckinley. Then again, Brittany was known for a lot of things she wasn't, too.
"I just... I'm sorry." Brittany muttered, looking down at the floor.
Santana raised an eyebrow, almost forgetting what the girl had to be sorry for. She kept quiet, sensing that Brittany had more to say.
"I shouldn't have been rude to you the other morning. I'm just really fucked up, ok? I'm an asshole, sometimes I can't help it." Brittany shrugged.
Santana smiled, the kind that showed her dimples. Brittany cautiously looked up, surprised to see her smiling. It sent that familiar, weird feeling into her stomach. It made her nervous and excited at the same time.
"Well, you are a bit of an asshole." Santana teased, earning a half hearted glare. "But I forgive you."
Brittany's expression brightened, her blue eyes sparkled with a childlike glow.
"Uh, so um..." Brittany began, cursing herself for sounding so dumb and nervous. Santana just stared at her, amused and curious. "I still think you're like, really hot, and I know I'm a bit of a douche. But I was wondering-"
"Lopez!" A voice cut through their conversation.
Their heads snapped towards the intruding voice, and Brittany snarled when she saw who it belonged to. Quinn Fabray. Bitchy blonde bimbo, Cheerio slut. Oh yeah, she had a lot of names for that girl.
"What Fabray?" Santana asked, irritated by the interruption.
Quinn's eyes narrowed on Brittany, she looked her over with disgust before turning her attention back to Santana.
"The girls and I think you need to stop hanging around that dyke, because people are starting to talk. You're making us all look bad, even Coach Sue agrees. If I see you talking to her again you're off the team."
"Excuse me? I'm captain of that team, if you don't recall." Santana snapped angrily.
A subtle smirk formed on Quinn's face.
"Not anymore." She said smugly.
"Oh hell no!" Santana burst out, sizing Quinn up, gloves coming off. But the blonde didn't recoil in fear like she should have.
"Either deal with it or you can go have sex with your dyke friend over there and I'll make sure your life is a living hell." Quinn warned, turning on her heel and walking away, not without casting a dirty look back at Brittany.
People were staring at the commotion, some whispering, gossiping, all that shit that high school kids do when there's been a fight. Santana scoffed, yelling at them to go back to their business.
"I like the second choice better." Brittany said.
Santana couldn't tell for a minute whether she was serious or not, until a small grin crept up Brittany's cheeks. She had long grown used to being called such names, and Quinn Fabray didn't scare her one bit.
"Come with me." Santana ordered, firm, but not with her usual bite.
Brittany followed the Latina outside, finding herself under the bleachers standing face to face with Santana.
"Quinn's a bitch." Santana began, and Brittany nodded in agreement. "But this is pointless, Brittany. We're too different. It was amusing at the start, but now... now it has to stop. I don't even think I like girls. I can't hang out with you." She stated firmly.
Brittany frowned, taken aback. She hadn't expected it to hurt so much. Then she remembered why she cut herself off from people once Eve died. Because getting hurt fucking sucks. Her face fell, and even Santana was surprised to see Brittany look so deflated. She wasn't the hard badass in that moment, she was a sensitive girl who was clearly hurting. Santana didn't know if she had the heart to just leave her like that.
"Before... before Quinn interrupted..." Brittany mumbled in a weak voice, looking at Santana with those big, sad eyes. "I was going to say that I like you, I like you a lot." Brittany confessed, bowing her head in shame. She'd never felt so small or pathetic.
Santana's heart broke.
"Why do you have to make this so hard for me?" Santana sighed.
"Make what so hard?" Brittany asked, confused.
"Not liking you back!" Santana exclaimed, surprising them both. "I... ugh you're just so- I can't not think about you, you know? It's not normal, it's just like, I can't stand you sometimes, but then, I can't stand not being around you. Everything's so wrong." She sighed, running her hand through her hair.
Brittany had not been expecting that. At all.
"I remembered something from the other night, at the party." She spoke up, sounding guilty. Santana's eyes widened.
"I kissed you. Out on the lawn." Brittany said, recalling the image in her head that had kept her up all night. "And you kissed me back."
Santana said nothing, she didn't deny it. She just stood, not knowing what to say or what to do. Her mind told her to run, but her body wouldn't allow her to move.
"It was just a kiss... it doesn't mean anything." Santana said, unconvincing. In fact, to her it had meant a lot. More than Brittany would ever know.
"So if it happened again you'd feel nothing?" Brittany challenged, taking a step closer, closing the space between them.
Santana stiffened, but still didn't budge. Because once again she could smell Brittany, she could almost feel her. It was intoxicating and she couldn't pull away. She had her.
"It can't happen again." Santana whispered, not even believing herself anymore.
"Prove to me that it'd mean nothing, that you'd feel nothing." Brittany prodded, moving closer so that their bodies were touching.
Santana gasped, her skin burning at the touch. She felt Brittany's hands holding her hips, bringing them closer. She wasn't stopping her, she didn't want to. She knew she should... it was so wrong. Brittany waited, until realising that Santana wasn't leaving. She looked at her expectantly, as if testing Brittany. Daring her. Because it wasn't something she could do herself.
Then it happened. Brittany surged forward, wasting no time as she pulled Santana into an open mouthed kiss. Their lips slid against each other's, but it wasn't sloppy. It was warm, welcoming, exhilarating. When their tongues met, they moaned simultaneously, pulling each other even closer. It was fast and intense, all tongue and teeth, as if they had been waiting for this for years. For a second, Brittany parted their lips.
"That doesn't feel like nothing." Brittany panted, her warm breath hot against Santana's skin.
"How do you do this to me?" Santana begged, eyes pleading.
Brittany could easily determine what 'this' was, because she was feeling it too. An intense pull, something intangible. Something they couldn't control. Whatever it was, she wanted more.
She crashed their lips together again, making out like two hormone crazed teens, which in a way they were.
"No one has to know." Brittany breathed between heated kisses, her hands sliding past Santana's hip, groping her ass. Santana gasped, kissing back more intensely than before.
"Fuck, just please, don't leave." Brittany begged, gripping Santana firmly.
"Mmm, I wont." Santana hummed in reply, fingers twisting into Brittany's hair. "Fuck Quinn."
"Fuck everyone."
"Fuck me."
It just came out. She couldn't stop it, and oddly enough, she didn't take it back.
Brittany just stared at her, eyes wide, full of lust. They were so close, their bodies flush together, hearts thumping through their chests.
"Sorry... carried away." Santana corrected herself, face burning in embarrassment.
"Oh, don't apologise." Brittany said in a husky tone. She leaned in, whispering into Santana's ear, "But first, just let me kiss you some more." And kiss they did. For the first time without a care, letting herself go, Santana allowed Brittany's allure to win her over. She had never kissed someone like this before, and she knew that in that moment, she definitely felt something.