OMFG ! It's truly been too long! I apologize profusely for that, by the way. Life sometimes fucks you up and school with give you three chops to the throat, but you just gotta keep it moving. Honestly, I meant to have this finished way sooner but then I found out my play made it to state so I had to work on that, school work, writing for my actual writing class, seeing about family, and all that other shit that I can barely call a life. Lol, I hope you all had a happy holiday and you don't hate me too much. I really am sorry about the time that has pasted between updates. But, I skipped working on my review for you guys, if that makes you feel better. Haha, anywho, I don't own shit, literally , and I hope you all enjoy! Sorry for any mistakes!
~Kay
Quinn's POV
"Did you get everything important?" I ask Santana, pulling my suitcase to the cab and holding the phone between my ear and shoulder.
"Yup!"
"Tampons just in case?"
"Check."
"Nice thong?"
"Check."
"Extra thong?"
"Check."
"Dirty tapes?"
"Check."
"Vibrator?"
"Double check."
"Alright, as long as you put that in the suitcase and not the carry on, it'll be fine. It looks like you have everything necessary to survive the next four days. I'm on my way over now. Make sure you have enough stuff for four days, okay? But not too much."
I hear a sigh on the other end and some rustling. "I know, Quinn. You've reminded me to get my stuff together, like, fifty thousand times."
"I keep reminding you because you are a procrastinator. A lazy one at that."
"No, no. I'm not lazy, just a very selective participant."
2 hours later...
"Tana, stop giving that man the stink eye." I say, bumping her shoulder. She looks at me halfheartedly and looks back at the guy whose phone is plugged into the wall.
"I'm not giving anybody the stink eye." she says, still looking at the poor man with a squished up face.
"Yes, you are." I say pointedly. She spares me a glance and goes back to looking at the man. "Why are you staring at him so hard? He's just another man at the airport, Tana."
Santana give a heavy sigh and turns to face me slightly. "Ok, so you know how he has a beard, right?" I nod and she continues. "Okay, so he has a beard and a turban and he keeps looking around. I know why he keeps doing that." she says, looking around to make sure nobody hears what she has to say.
I roll my eyes and lean forward with my eyes narrowed and a hiss. "Basically you're saying he's going to blow us up?" At that she recoils and looks at me as if I slapped her in the face.
"Oh my God, Quinn." Santana says as she looks at me in poorly contained disgust. "That's fucking racist! All I was saying was that I saw him earlier in the candy shop and he stole a pack of gummy worms."
"Oh."
"Yeah..." she trails off, shaking her head. "Such an asshole." she mumbles. I gape at her and she just crosses her arms.
"Baby, I'm sorry. I didn't mean to make it seem that way. I just-"
"Save it, Lucy." Hold the front fucking door. Did she just first name me?!
"Lucy? Really?" I ask, eyebrows raised.
"That's your name, isn't it?" she just shrugged, voice uncaring as she took out a nail filer.
"My name is Quinn, you know this!"
"Well maybe I like Lucy better now that I found out Quinn is a racist."
"That doesn't even fucking make sense!" I exclaim, looking around to see if anyone else heard this bullshit.
"You being a racist doesn't make sense."
1 Hour Later...
"Santana," I chide gently, trying to unscrew her fist around the arm rest. "Give me your hand, baby." She shakes her head with her eyes clenched shut and her lips sucked in her face. A middle-aged man behind me stuffs his suitcase into the overhead compartment and close it with a semi loud bang. Santana jumps about a foot in the air and her eyes widen dramatically.
"My God! ISIS!" She whisper yells in a panic, beads of sweat coating her brow. I try to stifle the laughter the best I can, but it's pretty hard.
"Santana," I chuckle as she frantically looks around. "Calm down!" In response shake her head and stats patting the seats and the ceiling above us. I look around and see people giving us weird looks. I gently grab her arms, only to have her shrug them off. "Baby, what the hell are you looking for?"
"Oxygen masks!" She squeaks, clutching her chest.
"Why?" I ask seriously, wondering if something is really wrong with her, kind of scared to be honest.
She moves her big brown, watery eyes to look me right in the face. My heart almost cracked when I saw a single tear rolling down her face.
"We're crashing!" She pants. That's a pretty legit reason to- wait what?!
I couldn't have stopped laughing if I tried.
Her eyebrows furrow and she purses her lips in a displeased manner. "Why the fuck are you laughing?" she spoke the best she could through her wheezes.
"HAHAHA!" I hold on to my stomach with one hand and hold the other in the air to signal that I need a moment. She frowns and her breath begins to slow. "Santana, we haven't even left the ground yet!"
30 Minutes Later…
"You okay, baby?" I ask, noticing how her eyes have finally gone from clenched to gently closed. She gives me a jerky nod and stretches her probably aching fingers on the arm rest. I look around us and notice that no one is really paying attention to us. I think it's about time for me to join the mile high club.
"San?" I call with a grin. She opens one eye and looks at me questioningly with a frown.
"What?"
"What would you say," I start slowly with a hopefully coy smile and crawl my fingers up her arm. "If we could maybe, just maybe, join the club today?"
She opens both eyes and raises her eyebrow. "What club?"
"You know," I wiggle my eyebrows, giving her a clue about what I'm talking about. "The Club."
"What club?" she asks with the same eyebrow wiggle.
"The Club," I say, looking around to make sure no one heard me. "The same club that Ashton Kutcher and Amanda Peet joined in that movie."
"Who the fuck is Amanda Peet?" Well damn, she's slow today.
"Nobody, I just think we should join the Club today. You know, on the back of the plane." I send her a wink hoping she would finally get it.
"The only thing on the back of the plane is food…" she trails off with a furrowed brow. "Wait! Did you mean The Breakfast Club? That's a movie that's not in the literal sense of breakfast, and it's past noon anyway." she asks with her head cocked, and I just can't help the way my mouth gapes open.
"Never mind. Forget it." I sigh and shake my head, leaning back into my seat before I close my eyes and think about what could have happened. But now I'll just have to settle for porn on my phone when she goes to sleep.
"No," Santana says, poking me in the boob repeatedly like there's nothing painful about it. "There is no 'never mind'. You brought it up, so you finish what you were going to say!" she whispers heatedly.
I just flick her hand away and keep my eyes closed while speaking to her. "Obviously you have no clue what I'm talking about, so I guess it would have never happened anyway." It's a wonder how someone so sexy and who's going to be a damn sex therapist has no clue about all the cool stuff going on in the world.
"Quinn. I want to be in the club." She says, hating that she doesn't know what's going on.
"You don't even know what it is., so-"
"Yes I do!" she interrupts quickly.
"What is it?"
"It has to do with the, um, the stuff that goes on in the back of the plane!"
"No."
"But I want to know." She begs.
"Google it."
"Fine." she huffs and pulls her phone out of her bra. "Ah shit," she mumbles. "It's a little sweaty. Hold on."
There is no way in hell my lip can stop from curling up in disgust as she wipes it away with the bottom of her shirt. She sees the look on my face and shrugs like nothing is going on. "Don't act like you don't want to be all up on this boob sweat."
"I don't."
"But you do. Now shut up, I'm googling," she says as she looks down at her phone with determination. She furrows her brows and grunts in dissatisfaction a few times and after about two minutes she huffs and throws her hands up. "Dammit, just tell me! I've looked up the club in the sky and all I've gotten was club sandwiches, dancing clubs, strip clubs, book clubs, or chess clubs," she pouts. "Help."
"You have issues," I sigh. "I was talking about the Mile High Club."
"The Mile high club…" she repeated in a confused manner before she trailed off in realization. "Oh! The Mile High Club!" she exclaimed in an excited manner before her face contorts into panic and looks around with wide eyes. "Why the hell would you bring weed on the fucking plane?!" she aggressively whispers. Aggressive because she's in my face and her nail is digging into my nipple. "Matter fact, how did you bring it? And why the fuck are you asking me if I want to smokeit in the air! You are one fucking loco if you think I'm going to jail for your ass. I cannot believe-"
"San, calm down. I'm not asking you to smoke anything!" I hurriedly cut her off, amazed at the shit she comes up with.
"Oh! So now you want me to eat your smuggled weed! What'd you do, Quinn? Bake some brownies? Maybe cute little cupcakes and shit?" I can only gape helplessly as she continues her rant. "Oh, I got it! You backed some 'Christmas' Cookies and wrapped them up in little packages, didn't you? What's the code name, the Grinch? WhoBrownies ? No, fuck you. I'm done." Santana said as she crossed her arms and turned away from me in her seat, going on tangent in Spanish.
"San-"
"NO!"
"Goddammit! LISTEN TO ME! It means that I want to fuck in the goddamned airplane bathroom, you big fucktard!" I yell in frustration. She froze and went from a hundred to zero in less than two point five seconds.
"Oh… I wish I would have known what you were talking about because-"
"Excuse me, ladies," we hear a man say. I look over and see a flight attendant with his eyebrows raised and a smile as fake as any dick of mine. "Is everything okay?" I give him a sugary smile and reply with my best innocent voice, trying not to let my annoyance show.
"Yes." No, fucker.
"Can we get you anything to make you more comfortable, maybe some headphones?"
"No." Does this look like first class? This is not a flight out of the country. I don't need your damn Nokia headphones that smell like ball sweat and turkey. As a matter of fact, I need to call in a complaint for that.
"Are you sure there's nothing I can get you?"
"I'm sure, thank you." You can get your face the fuck out my face while I put mine in Santana.
"Alright, enjoy your flight." He says as he smiles in a sickly sweet smile once more before going away.
"Quinn," Santana starts timidly. "I want to join your club."
"Alright, well how do we go to the bathroom without them thinking we're going to do something?"
"Quinn, we're both girls. Nobody is going to care." Oh, but that man in F4 seems to care.
"Don't worry, babe. I got this." Maybe if I just sort of spill the drink on her lap, I can get a rub and have an excuse for both of us to go. Okay, plan Flight Sixty-Nine, go head.
"OH NO!" I call loudly, ignoring Santana's frightened jump and tip over the ice in her plastic cup. "It seems that I have spilled a little drink on your pants!" I exclaim innocently, pointing to her pants. I actually think people are buying this! Judging by the concerned stares, I guess I should have been an actor this whole time. "It looks like we have to go clean it up," San looks at me in shock, I'm guessing because of my good idea, so I give her a discreet wink. "In the bathroom… together!"
"Goddammit, Quinn," Santana sighs and puts her head in her hand. "Just shut the fuck up and get up."
"But we have to make inconspicuous." I pout.
"You're making it worse."
"Really?"
"Yes."
"Aww damn. I thought I was doing a pretty good job." I say, affronted and feeling a little disappointed to be completely honest.
"No." She says as she gets up and walks to the back of the plane. I hurry to follow and awkwardly wave at the flight attendant on my way to the back.
She opens the door and I open my zipper. It's about to go down.
"Oh shit, this is small." I grunt as I realize that Santana and I weren't pressed up against each other by desire, but by force. The metal toilet was just a foot away from the sink. I ignore the lack of space and immediately attach out lips together. Her lips are as soft as pillows but even more aggressive.
"Quinn, baby..." Santana said breathlessly against as she wrapped her arms around my neck. My hands travel from her shoulders to her waist and I begin to trail kisses down her jaw and along her neck. She tilts her head with a moan to give me more access.
"You are so fucking sexy," I husk as I rub my hands under her shirt and up her back to unsnap her bra in one quick motion. My means to life bounce free from their evil Victoria Secret constraints and welcome me with a smile to which I generously return. I lift her shirt up and place my kisses lower and lower until I reach her breastplate. Her fingers tangle into my hair when an announcement came on from the speakers.
'Excuse me, passengers. There seems to be some turbulence so our pilot has asked everyone to put your seat belts on and remain seated. Thank you.'
I ignore it and continue with what I'm doing. I've flown plenty of times, I'm sure it's nothing. "Quinn," Santana says with a moan as I pull one of her nipples into my mouth. "Do you think we should go to our seats now?"
"Just a few more minutes," I mumble as I swirl my tongue around her nipple. "Nothing's going happen, babe."
"Wha- what about the turbulence? W-we need to go back, Quinn." But the fighting in my hair says otherwise as her breath hitches when I unbutton her pants and slide them down, running my hand over her area on the way down.
"Just trust me." I husk into her ear. Slipping two fingers in the waistband of her socked through panties and taking her other nipple into my mouth, I can't help but feel like my fingers have found their new home.
Everything was great until it wasn't. It happened so fast that it became slow motion.
The plane shook particularly hard and caused us to bounce about half a foot into the air, causing me to hit my head on the ceiling and close my mouth on instinct, completely forgetting that I had a very sensitive body part in it and I clamp down on her nipple. She howls as my mouth stays latched on as the rest of my body propels towards the door and she flies backwards. I let go with a yelp as I feel myself slipping on her fallen bra and her cast scrape the skin away from my neck. Desperate to grab something to stop me from busting my ass, my arms grasp at nothing and my shoulder jams into the door handle and lock. A shooting pain hit my shoulder-blade and my knee pops horribly as my legs were still intertwined with Santana's.
I hear a scream, a splash, some shouts, a toilet flushing, more screams, an oddly a dog barking…. Or was that a fart? I ignore the last questioning noise and struggle to get up.
"Are you okay?!" We hear from the flight attendants outside of the door, someone banging on the door.
"Yes, we're fine." I say to the door. I try to slide it a little bit open but I notice that it's stuck. "Can you open the door from the outside?" I call. I hear them trying and speaking among themselves and various grunts from the unsuccessful efforts of opening the door for a good ten minutes.
"Sorry, we'll have to wait until the plane lands to get someone to open it. We might have to call the fire department." A lady says. I sigh and rest my forehead against the door and close my eyes. "Just hold on to something that's as stable as possible for the remainder of the flight. We only have about thirty minutes left."
"Ok." Fuck on a stick.
"Quinn." I hear Santana's timid voice. "I think we're at the honestly stage in our relationship, right?"
"Yeah," I pant, once again trying to unjam the lock. "What's up?"
"My..." She mumbles something I can't understand so I ask her to repeat it. "My ass is stuck." She says.
"What?" I ask and turn around to see what she's talking about. Well damn… I see that her lips are sucked in and she looks up at me with tears in her eyes and so much disappointment. Her legs are bent awkwardly and her arms are extended, holding on to the walls on either side of her. I must say that her eyes reminds me of a sugar glider and her naked body's position is one of a flying squirrel. I grab my phone out my back pocket and take a few quick shots of it, ignoring he shouts of protest.
"Oh, baby. I don't mean to seem kind of asshole-ish, but that's pitiful." I chucked.
"No shit, Quinn!" She yells, her voice wavering as she hopelessly flailed on the cold, metal toilet.
"Is it, like, stuck on it, a little bit stuck in it, or like all the way in…" I trail off when I see her crestfallen look and a few tears rolling down her cheeks.
"All I wanted…" she starts miserably. "All I've ever wanted was to fuck! Is that such a fucking crime?!" On that note, I actually think that sex in airplane bathrooms is a crime. "And I end up getting my ass flushed down the toilet!"
"Maybe it's for the best you know? Our first real time shouldn't have been in a plane." I say. She looks up with a lopsided, pitiful smile. "I'm going to treat you nice. I'll take you out to dinner- not quite McDonald's, but not quite past Chinese food- then I'll take you back to my place and wine and dine you. You know, buy some box wine and sharp cheddar cheese, maybe something from the nice isle in the grocery store if you're lucky."
Santana burst out in watery giggles and I shoot her a teasing smile before I continue. "And for the final step, I'll find fifty different scented candle, overfill the bathtub, forget how fast the water got cold and slowly let you into the tub. It will be horribly sexy and me being the klutz I am, will forget that adhesive ducks and slip and give us a new opportunity for hospital sex."
By the time I end we both have big grins and she hold her arms out for me. I shuffle that twelve inches of space to her and meet her with a tender kiss. "I wouldn't have it any other way." She laughs against my lips. "Now can you hand me your bra? I don't want the flight attendants to see my boobs when they finally get the door open." I give each nipple a quick kiss and help her with her clothes.
An hour later firefighters finally hack the door open, maneuver San's ass out the toilet and they carry her out on a stretcher with a red ass face up and her screaming about suing, an air marshal asking why the both of us were in there at the same time, confiscation of the well hidden extra vibrator Santana had, and a phone call for my parents to pick us up out of holding. Overall, I'd say it was a pretty good trip.
Sooooo, How was it?! Was it worth the wait? Are you disappointed? (if you are, please say it in a nice manner lol) Was it good, was it bad? Funny enough? TELL ME! GRRRRRRR! *aggressively in your face* . lmao, jk... a little bit.
Ya'll have a good two to three weeks that it might take me to update because of benchmarks, finals, and everything else. Ummm I kind of wanted to put the family in this chapter, but I wanted to try something different, like writing travel experiences lol. So you all will meet the family next time, as well as the funeral.
