A/N: Thank you for all the support guys. Sorry I haven't had as much time to write since I'm finishing up with school projects and such. Hope everything is going well with you. Shout out to momo0424 on this one and all the new followers/reviewers I've gained since the last chapter (Yay, 100!). Also, I 1000% agree with you boringsiot. Brittany used to have some of the best one liners and now she's been relegated to shitty end of the world plots. To be fair though, which Glee character haven't they ruined? Smh. *END RANT* x
Seeing as how Mrs. Fabray would be out of town Friday night, Quinn had invited Santana to stay to the night. She had stated that it would be better for carpooling reasons because the Cheerios Car Wash for Cancer event was the following morning and this way they could go together. Santana had agreed, hoping that a night filled with Quinn would satisfy her increasing hunger. She was told to arrive at 7:00 but being one of the most impatient people in the world, she showed up at 6:45. Then deciding that being 15 minutes early seemed desperate, she walked around the block until 7:15 before finally knocking on the door. It hadn't taken them long to end up in Quinn's bed and though Santana still remained fully clothed, she had managed to strip the blonde down to just her underwear.
"I've never had anyone go down on me before…" Quinn says nervously as she looks down at the Latina, perched between her legs. "What if I don't like it?"
Santana holds back a chuckle. "Trust me, you will…" Then in a gentler tone, "If you want me to stop, just say so."
When she nods the go ahead, Santana kisses along the inside of Quinn's thigh, smirking slightly when she sees how wet she is. Teasingly, she runs her tongue against the fabric of her panties, eliciting a moan from the blonde. She quickly hooks her fingers around them and slides them off in one swift movement. The sight of Quinn's exposed sex causes her to involuntarily lick her lips as she digs her fingertips into soft, creamy skin. The blonde seems to grow anxious when the Latina doesn't respond right away so to keep her mind at ease, she blows a soft breath of air against her hyper sensitive skin, the slight sensation making the girl whimper.
"Pleeease," She begs.
Santana grazes her tongue along her entrance, watching Quinn open herself up to her. She ends the movement by planting a suckling kiss on her clit before pulling away, watching the girl's body become frantic with need. The blonde fists her hands into her sheets, a desperate moan escaping her lips.
"Santanaaaa."
The girl repeats the action, letting her tongue delve inside her this time, which causes the blonde to shudder. She elicits a guttural moan unlike any Santana has heard before, causing her stomach to coil with desire. She works faster now, attaching herself to the girl's swollen sex as she sucks and swishes her tongue against it. She smiles as Quinn gives herself over to her and loses herself in the moment, threading her fingers into her hair. The Latina holds her hips in place, digging her fingertips into her possessively as she lets the blonde rock her hips into her, riding her pretty face. The girl's muscles begin to flutter underneath her as she comes undone, driving her to edge of oblivion. When Quinn finally lets go, she comes hard and Santana eagerly drinks her in until she has nothing left to offer. As if leaving her signature, she places two soft kisses on the girl's clit before bringing herself up beside her on the bed.
Santana wears a pleased grin as she admires the sight of the girl next to her. "You always look so hot after you come. I could fuck you all day."
The blonde takes a few moments to compose herself before she gets off the bed and walks over to the dresser, shrugging off her bra as she faces away from her. "Is that the reason you sleep with me?" Even though her tone is even, she seems genuinely curious.
Santana matches her tone. "What do you mean?"
Quinn rummages through her drawers, finally picking out a loose V-neck that she throws on. "You get off on me getting off on you?" Next she pulls on a pair of boy shorts.
The Latina watches her silently, wondering if Quinn would ever be comfortable enough to let her see all of her at once. When the blonde turns to face her, she shrugs slightly, noting contentedly that at least she could still see the girl's tits through her top. "Well, why do you sleep with me?" It comes across as more of a statement.
Quinn takes in the sight of Santana lying provocatively on her bed, and though she's still fully dressed, the sight makes her crazy with want. She jumps on top of her, straddling her. "I like the way your mouth and skin taste," She plants a kiss on her lips for added effect.
"I like the feeling of your hard and soft body against mine," She says as she runs her hand over Santana's breast, circling her hardened nipple with her fingertip.
"I like the feeling of you inside me. I like that after I come you leave two small kisses on me."
Santana runs her hands along her body, looking up into the girl's hazel eyes as she attempts to finish her thought, "I like—"
Her words are cut off by the Latina's kiss as she pulls her impossibly closer, grabbing her by the waist. Their tongues battling for dominance as Quinn takes Santana's into her mouth and gently sucks on it, causing the girl to moan. The brunette plays with the hem of the blonde's shirt as she tries to sneak a hand underneath it but she's quickly batted away.
"Stop. My turn."
The blonde removes Santana's top and covers her in kisses, her hands working their way lower until they find her jeans. Hastily, she unbuttons them and pulls them down, causing Santana to chuckle. She helps her by lifting her legs off the bed and wiggling out of them as Quinn tugs. She's quickly back on her, running her hands along her smooth skin as she kisses her passionately. The Latina moans as the girl quickly rids her of her black lace bra, stopping to give each of her breasts some much needed attention before working her way down to her matching panties. Growing impatient, the blonde rips them off, which enrages and excites Santana all at once.
"Quinn! Are you fucking kidding me? Those were fifteen dollars!"
The blonde quickly covers her protestations with kisses. "I'll buy you new ones."
This causes the Latina to smile as she wraps her arms around Quinn's neck and kisses her back. "I've never had a sugar mama before," She says teasingly.
"Shut up and spread your legs," The blonde says as she slaps her thigh.
Santana laughs lightly but does as she's told. Quinn makes her way between them, planting suckling kisses on her and using her tongue to work her clit. The girl moans as she watches her work. The sight of the pretty blonde between her legs makes her come almost immediately, so to maintain some semblance of pride she averts her gaze to the ceiling while raking her blunt fingernails against the back of the girl's neck. When Quinn has her where she wants her, she enters her with her fingers, and draws her body back up Santana's so she can kiss her, wanting to feel her breathy moans against her lips. Quinn uses her free hand to pull back on the brunette's hair so her neck is easily exposed, and as she feels the girl clenching around her fingers, she sucks on the exposed flesh before biting down. The Latina arches herself off the bed as she orgasms, the blonde's name leaving her lips, as her body presses against hers so that she feels Quinn's hardened nipples against her own.
"Fuck," Santana breathes. The blonde keeps her body pressed against hers as she watches the brunette work to regain control of her body and her breathing. She places tiny kisses all over her, helping to wind her down. Having finally regained her composure, the Latina runs a hand up Quinn's shirt and firmly squeezes her breast. "Your body turns me on so much."
"Yours too," Quinn says as she places a soft kiss on her erect nipple. She smiles down at her, brushing her dark hair out of her eyes, "You're so pretty, San."
The brunette doesn't acknowledge the compliment but smiles anyway, lazily resting her hand on the small of her back. "So, what now?"
"Hmm…" The blonde says pensively before breaking out into a grin. "Wanna watch Bring It On? I still have all the cheers memorized."
Santana smiles slightly. "Really? Me too… But if you even think about telling anyone, I will definitely bury you." Quinn doesn't seem threatened by her comment; in fact, she seems to find it amusing, which causes an uneasy lump to form in the brunette's throat. "Lend me a pair of your boy shorts." As the blonde gets off of her and makes her way to her dresser, a sinking feeling settles somewhere in the pit of Santana's stomach. She stares off into the distance, losing herself in her thoughts.
As Quinn shuffles through the contents of her drawers, she sneaks a glance at the naked girl splayed across her bed, wondering how someone could be so open and closed off at the same time.
The two make an attempt to watch the movie but quickly end up tangled in one another again before drifting off to sleep in twisted sheets.
[\\]
The following morning, the blonde wakes up to Santana bouncing on her bed and slapping her ass. Groggily, she opens her eyes, but she snaps to attention when she sees what Santana is doing. "San, are you eating my toaster strudels?"
Quinn's shrill voice catches the Latina by surprise, which causes her to respond negatively despite the fact that she's holding one in her hand.
The blonde calms down a little bit upon seeing her startled expression, "Is it a strawberry one?"
Santana shakes her head. "No… It's the other flavor."
"You mean blueberry? The Latina nods affirmatively and is surprised when Quinn pulls her into a quick kiss and flicks her tongue across her lips before letting go. "Liar. I knew it was strawberry."
The casualness of the whole exchange causes Santana to pause. "I can make you one?"
Quinn doesn't seem to hear her though as she's reading a text on her phone.
"Who is it?" The brunette asks as she settles on the bed next to her.
"Finn."
The mention of his name causes Santana to bristle. "Oh." When the blonde doesn't elaborate she adds, "What does he want?"
"He wants to talk," Quinn says plainly, not meeting her gaze. "I've been avoiding him for the past couple days."
The Latina can feel her annoyance at the blonde's vagueness starting to get the better of her. "Well, what do you think he wants?"
Quinn's answer is almost immediate, not liking the change in the Latina's tone. "After the way I kissed him, he probably wants to get back together."
"Is that what you want?" Her voice is searching.
The blonde seems to think about that for a second, returning to an even tone. "Actually, it would probably be a good idea… Then we'd be dating the two most popular guys in school. It would be good for our reps, probably help put this whole diary thing behind us." She nudges her friend. "Good idea. Don't you think?"
The Latina nods, finding a sudden interest in the lint on her jean shorts. "Yeah, definitely."
"Maybe we could even double date," The blonde offers.
"Sure." Then finding her spitfire again, "Just don't sit me next to Blubber. I wouldn't want to end up like Jonah or that wooden puppet."
"You mean Pinocchio?" Santana nods half-heartedly, and Quinn smiles teasingly. "Your lack of Disney knowledge is just sad."
"And yours is terrifying." Her voice carries more venom than she initially intended but if Quinn notices, she doesn't say anything.
It's a few more minutes before they speak again as the blonde rushes around to get dressed before looking over at her friend with a questioning glance. "We do have to leave soon. Are you ready?"
"Yeah. Not all of us take forever to get ready, Barbie." Nevertheless, Santana takes out her mascara and reapplies a second layer, not chancing another look in the blonde's direction. As she inspects herself in the vanity, she happens upon the mark that the girl left on her neck the night before, muttering bitterly, "Fucking Christ."
When they're both finally in the car, Quinn shoots her a look, "And as predicted, I was the one having to wait for you."
"Only because you decided to mutilate my body and I had to spend 10 minutes covering it up."
"Oh, please, you're such a drama queen. Send me the bill."
"This body is worth more than your monthly allowance, Q," Santana retorts.
The blonde looks at her with a humorless expression. "Did your boob doctor tell you that?"
The Latina laughs venomously. "Ya best get me to this car wash alive because there is no fucking way I'm being buried with this monstrosity on my neck!"
Quinn just sits there looking incredulous before she finally starts the engine. She cranks the volume up on her Mumford and Sons playlist and peels out of the driveway. "Don't tempt me, Santana."
[\\]
The girls arrive and realize that most of their teammates are already there. Santana quickly peels her jean shorts off, leaving her in her Cheerios bikini that they all had been given as one of the perks of making it on the squad, along with gym and tanning memberships. She glances over at Quinn who keeps on a pair of butt shorts and a tiny black halter-top over hers, which causes her to sigh in disappointment. The blonde seems to hear it as she shoots her a questioning glance.
"I can't believe I have to throw away another Saturday for this," She says as she gestures to the group of cheerleaders who are already running around with buckets of soapy water instead of doing any actual washing of the cars.
Brittany approaches them from behind and throws her arms around Santana's shoulders. "Hey, guys."
"Hey, Britt," The Latina greets as she pats her gently on the arm.
"We're washing Mr. Schue's car first. You'll come help, won't you?"
"Of course," Santana says with a grin.
The girls look over at Quinn, who's obviously distracted but when she feels their eyes on her, she smiles.
"Yeah, sounds good."
As they make their way toward the front of the parking lot, the sound of pop music coming from one of the cheerleader's stereos gets progressively louder. Upon reaching Mr. Schue's car, Quinn and Brittany decide to take sponge duty while Santana grabs the hose, which they quickly learn is probably not the best idea they've ever had because it takes less than thirty seconds before they're both completely drenched, the Latina laughing maniacally at their shocked expressions.
"Santana!" Quinn whines, she glares at her friend but there's warmth behind it.
Her halter-top sticks to her now becoming more uncomfortable the longer it's on her and so she goes to remove it, the brunette temporarily frozen in her tracks. She can't help but lick her lips at the sight of Quinn's exposed flesh, finding a sort of perverse pleasure in the slight bruising on her hips where she had touched her the night before. Tentatively, she thinks about running her fingertips across her skin, wanting to feel it heat up from her touch.
"Hey."
Suddenly Santana wishes Quinn would put her damn halter-top on again.
The blonde spins around to face the tall brunette boy now, "Hey."
He grins at Quinn with a dopey smile and Santana considers slapping it off his face. "Nice car wash. I hear you planned it?"
Quinn smiles slightly. "Not exactly, we came up with the idea though… Not that we had much of a choice."
Finn seems to notice the Latina now, "Hey, Santana."
"Hi," She responds flatly. A million insults rush into her head but she doesn't really feel like fighting with the blonde again so she joins Brittany as they move on to the next car.
Finn seems a bit shy now that they're alone. "So… That kiss…"
A small smile tugs at the blonde's lips. "It was pretty good, right?"
"Definitely not a 4."
"I was thinking an 8.5," She says as she shields her eyes from the glaring sun.
The boy finally takes in the sight of the girl in front of him. "At least." The words widen her smile. "There's a party tonight… Wanna go together?"
Quinn shifts her gaze over to the brunette girl and her smile falters slightly as she sees Sam approaching her. She quickly returns her attention to the boy, smile back in place. "Sure. Sounds fun."
[\\]
"Hey, Santana."
Santana turns to notice the blonde boy beside her. Suddenly she feels the need to lash out at someone and Sam seems as good a target as any. "What do you want, Trouty Mouth? Your lips are looking especially large today. At this rate, Lima will run out of collagen before the next major holiday."
"Whoa, hey. I just wanted to talk." He leans against the side of the car with a casual shrug. "Guess you can't break up McKinley's golden couple, huh?"
Santana follows his gaze and suddenly it clicks. "Oh, I get what this is… You asked me out because you wanted to make Quinn jealous."
His face reddens as he hangs his head. "I—"
"Don't apologize," Santana responds flippantly. "I don't really care… Actually, I didn't think you had it in you."
"Huh?" A look of confusion crosses his face.
"You're such a boy scout. The thought of you actually liking me was beginning to make me physically sick."
"Well, I—"
"We should go to that party together."
He pauses now. "Why would you wanna go with me?"
"Britt's taking Artie. Looks like Quinn's going with the creepy man-child. And since I can't really stand the sight of Puckerman at the moment, looks like it's your lucky night."
"But—"
"Pick me up at 8:00." And since the conversation is over, Santana goes back to washing cars, leaving a confused Sam in her wake.
[\\]
When Quinn arrives at the party in Finn's truck, she feels herself relax a little bit. Things were finally getting back on track. The car wash had gone pretty smoothly and even though she wasn't sure how much cleaning was actually done, the customers didn't seem to mind—not to mention they had also raised some money for a good cause. Now she found herself going to a house party with the quarterback of the football team, and for once she didn't feel the need to drink herself under the table… All she had to do was refrain from looking at Santana's cleavage and she'd be fine.
Her newfound sense of progress seems to put her in a good mood because when Brittany approaches her, she grins widely, and sweeps her into an adoring hug. "Britt, you look adorable tonight."
She feels the blonde's body tense as she holds her. "Uh, about that, Q…"
Quinn freezes as Artie wheels up behind them. "Have you told her yet?"
"She literally just walked in the door 5 seconds ago, so no... Unless she's developed telepathy, then yes."
Quinn's voice is cold. "Told me what?" She lets go of Brittany.
The blonde pulls out her phone and shows it to the girl. She quickly reads over the headline of the article.
Cheerios Car Wash Raises Money for Convicted Serial Killer?
Her mouth drops open. "This doesn't even make any sense! It was for cancer!"
"Actually…"
"Actually what?"
"The sign might have accidentally said 'Craner' instead of 'cancer.'"
"Craner as in Lester Craner? Ohio's most hated? The psychopath who went around murdering people while they used public restrooms?"
"Bastard should've at least had the decency to only be 'alleged,'" Santana adds as she joins the group. They all turn to look at her humorlessly. "What?"
"Who was in charge of making the sign?" Quinn's voice has risen now, looking more pissed off than anything. "Seriously, how does this even happen?"
Brittany looks at her nervously. "Uh—"
"It doesn't even matter at this point. We're so—"
"Fucked," Santana finishes.
Quinn shakes her head as she lets it sink in. "Coach is literally going to put us in body bags." She grabs the Latina's drink.
"Aye!"
"I need it more than you do… Fuck this, I'm over it," She drains the cup rather quickly. "I'm not a fucking babysitter."
Santana is still glaring at her, "I'm glad you're finally okay with dropping the 'F' bomb in public, Barbie, but the next time you grab a drink out of my hand, I will slap you."
Quinn doesn't seem to care though because she stomps away, presumably to refill the cup.
"Well, this is just great," The brunette sighs sarcastically. "Just when she was starting to be fun."
"Yeah, she actually gave me a real hug. At first I thought she was going to try to put me in a chokehold."
"There'll be plenty of time for that on Monday. Might as well have some fun while we have the chance. At least Q got that part right." She begins to dance with Brittany, dragging her into the living room to join the others. Artie eventually joins in, which to her surprise, doesn't bother her as much as it used to. Her eyes keep darting around the room, waiting for Quinn to resurface in the crowd. When she doesn't, she excuses herself and decides to look for her.
She checks for her next to the kegger, in the kitchen, in the line of the girls waiting to use the bathroom; she almost thinks she might have left with Finn except she catches him chatting with Puck as she loops back around toward the front of the house. So she makes her way upstairs and although she regrets checking in the first couple bedrooms, she finds her sitting by herself on one of the beds in the bedroom at the end of the hall, facing away from her. She steps inside and closes the door.
"Quinn?" When the girl doesn't answer, she shuffles nervously in place. "Do you want me to go?" The girl is still despondent. She turns to leave but a soft voice stops her before she can open the door.
"San." She glances over her shoulder to see the girl on her feet, facing her now. When Santana sees her hazel eyes growing dark, she feels a slight shiver pass through her. The blonde closes the distance between them and presses her lips against the exposed skin on her shoulder as she brushes the brunette's hair aside to admire her handiwork from the night before. Soft fingertips trace lazy circles on the caramel skin of her forearm as she feels the blonde's body lean into hers. Her breath is hot and heavy, her words intoxicating even though she can smell the alcohol on her. "I want you."
Santana closes her eyes for a moment, her mouth becoming increasingly dry as she lets herself enjoy the feeling of Quinn pressed against her before she brings herself back to reality. Her voice is firm but her touch is gentle. "We can't do this, Q."
She removes the girl's hand from her forearm and for the smallest of moments she wants Quinn to tell her she's wrong. She wants her to grab her and kiss her passionately; she wants to take back what she said and make her forget the boy she came here with.
But Quinn seems to break almost immediately at her words. Her face crumbles and for a second it looks like she might cry, only she doesn't seem capable of doing so. The hazel eyes that meet hers are full of something she's never seen before. They carry an insurmountable sadness; one the girl is drowning in. One Santana wishes she could fix by reaching out and holding her but the sadness seems too deep. So deep, she feels as if she's drowning with her, the sting of tears playing at her brown eyes, a pang of guilt in her gut for not noticing it before.
"Quinn? Are you up here?" Finn calls out.
And just like that, the hazel eyes seem to bury the sadness. So quickly removed that Santana wonders if she ever saw it to begin with.
Her tone sounds light when she answers. "Yeah. I was wondering where you were." She doesn't meet the brunette's eyes now as she steps past her to open the door.
He smiles when he sees her. "You're going to dance with me, right?"
She shoots him a small grin as she fights to steady herself. "Is that what you call what you do?" She makes her way over to him. "Let's do it."
They make their way to the dance floor and she leans into him as she feels the fuzziness getting to her head. Her earlier contentment with the spreading warmth of the liquor starts to fade as she begins to feel the weariness of it, the loud music and the blurry faces no longer appealing. He steadies her with his hands as they sway together.
His voice is soft and undemanding when he speaks to her. "You're so pretty, Quinn… You're perfect."
She holds on to him a little tighter, trying not to flinch at the words. "What about Rachel?"
"I'm here with you, aren't I?"
When his lips seek out hers, she doesn't pull away. They're familiar. They're safe. They're better than being alone.
[\\]
Santana steps out from the bedroom now only to find Puck waiting for her. "What do you want?" She says with a scowl as she makes her way down the stairs, the Mohawked kid keeping pace with her.
"Come on, you can't stay mad at me forever. I figure the fact that I'm still breathing means I'm of better use to you alive."
They reenter the main part of the house before she spins on her heels. "I wouldn't bet on it."
He looks past her now, his mouth slightly agape. "Whoa, who saw that one coming?" She turns around to see Quinn making out with the brunette boy in the middle of the living room.
"Mmm. Me." She answers distractedly.
His attention is back on her now as he continues, "For what it's worth, I am sorry. I didn't think they would actually steal it from your locker."
The Latina grits her teeth before shrugging nonchalantly. "It's McKinley. If you don't know how to jimmy a locker, you probably haven't graduated middle school." The boy grins, realizing it would probably be the closest thing he would get to an 'I forgive you.' She straightens up now, "Like they say, a bad reputation is better than no reputation at all."
"They meaning you and me, right?"
She furrows her brow. "Where's Trouty?"
"Last I saw, he went outside. He looked pretty shitfaced."
[\\]
The Latina makes her way outside, and sees the blonde boy sitting with his head between his knees near the stump of a tree.
"Hey."
He looks around for a few moments as if he's unaware of his surroundings before he looks up to see her. He stares at her for a few moments before slurring, "You left me."
She looks at him incredulously. Wasn't he aware she didn't do this touchy feely shit? "I don't have the patience to deal with your emotions right now, Pretty Boy. You're my ride. Give me your keys and I'll take us home."
He stands up now, trying to regain his balance but ends up haphazardly leaning on Santana. She heaves a disgruntled sigh. "Tell me where your keys are."
"Left pocket," He says with a groan. She slips a hand into his jean pocket to retrieve them. Sensing her proximity to his lips, he tries to close the distance between them but is quickly met with her hand.
"I like girls."
His eyes flutter open in surprise but he quickly backs off her. "What? Since when?"
She rolls her eyes. "Since a while. I'm not ready to make a big announcement or anything so calm your tits… I just know that I do."
His question rolls lazily off his tongue, almost as if he can sense its stupidity even in his drunken haze. "How do you know?"
She raises an eyebrow, deciding to humor him. "You know how you feel about Quinn?"
Suddenly, his face softens. "You mean like how I want us to make pottery together? And maybe even—"
Horrified, she quickly cuts him off. "Let me stop ya there. You know, the more you talk, the less I am buying your stripper story… But in a way, minus the pottery, yeah. That's how I feel about… girls in general I guess."
As if he finally senses the weight of her confession, he tries to initiate a hug. "It'll be okay." But he's once again met by her hand.
"Whoa, I'm not that drunk, Fish Lips," She says amusedly. His coordination once again fails him as he ends up leaning against her in his drunken stupor. The Latina just shakes her head, noting that if it had been any other guy he would've gotten a swift knee to the groin by now.
"But why did you tell me?"
Her face contorts in confusion as she realizes she doesn't know herself. "You tried to kiss me."
He shakes his head. "Yeah, but you could've lied…" She wonders why she didn't. It would've been so easy and it was something she had gotten pretty damn good at. His lips begin to tug into what she's sure is going to be an obnoxious grin. "Do you like someone?"
She looks at him in disgust as she gives him a hard shove that sends him sprawling to the ground. "Stop being such a cheeseball, Evans. No wonder you're never going to get laid."
