A/N: This was a little later than I planned, because I ended up having a busy week with my work assessments and such.. But I ended up getting a place at dog grooming academy, starting next month, so I'm super stoked about that! Anyway.. To the important stuff. Sorry to keep you hanging!


Chapter 12: Playing With Fire

I found myself holding back a small whimper that threatened to leak from my throat as Santana started to move her lips against mine. The feeling vibrated through every inch of my body, and I couldn't help but shudder. I was kissing Santana.. and the thought that it was actually happening while I was consenting and sober didn't disgust me in the slightest. Before I had the ability to register what was happening, I felt Santana lean further into my body.

Instead of the small kiss that I had intended it to be when we started, our lips moved against one another with untold urgency. She was clumsy and a little timid compared to my experience with kissing, but her lips were softer than any I had kissed before. Whether that was something that came with Santana being a woman, or just being Santana– I didn't know. But it wasn't unpleasant. It sent a soft wash of heat over my tired limbs, combining together in the belly of my chest with a swell.

It took until my fingers twitched uselessly for me to realize that I had use of them. I had never been a person of theory – and used my hands to manipulate the world around me instead of my mind, but I had never felt the desperate need to touch. Like my fingers were kleptomaniacs of their own accord, just yearning to feel and touch in order to feel some higher affirmation of fulfillment. I reached out to blindly capture the swell of Santana's hip with my palm, pulling her closer against my body and arching into her touch.

The way her body fit, curve against curve, was alien to me. Warm and fragile against my toned and hardened frame. I could so easily mold and manipulate her, but it was my own body that caved into it. It seemed something so ridiculous, but I felt more with Santana's lips moving ever so slowly against my own, parting and enveloping my own, than I could ever remember with anyone else.

It was intimate.. And I hated it.

I felt Santana move under my hand, her thigh raising from the mattress between us to be thrown over my hips. As she shifted on top of me, I followed her kiss blindly with my mouth. I only took note of the change in position when she lowered her weight against my hips, thighs resting either side of my own.

My hands slid down from her hips to the bare skin of her thighs. Her dress had ridden up to bunch up at the top of her thighs. Feeling her legs against my own, it was as though I had only just realized my own state of undress, clad only in my flimsy excuse for underwear from the night before.

I was pinned below someone very female, and the worst part was that I was actually enjoying it. Every moment of it.

Just as I was starting to freeze up under Santana's frame, my fingers digging their way into velvety thighs, Santana's lips parted against my own as the faintest hint of a tongue poked its way out to swipe ever so gently against my lower lip. I shuddered, a low groan sounding against Santana's mouth as my body reacted as though I had absolutely no control over it in the slightest.

I wanted to return the gesture, but I wouldn't allow myself to give in that easily. With a whimper of discomfort, I clamped my teeth down against my tongue to render it useless.

"Britt.."

Even Santana's voice, raspy from breathlessness, pierced right through my resolve.

My eyes snapped open with slight panic and the light basking through the open curtains flooding in and sent a stab of pain into my head. My senses flooded back to be, though my body immobile and my head was dizzy from the kiss we had shared. I flinched under Santana, begging my body to move away and out from under Santana as quickly as I could.

Instead, Santana's head dropped, her warm breath tickling at the exposed skin of my neck. I truly had no idea how Santana could suddenly feel so confident and comfortable with me, but her lips tickled below my jawline. I froze up just as a light moan left my mouth.

Feeling my chest tighten and my heart hammering in my ribcage, traveling down to my taught stomach muscles, I moved her hands up to Santana's shoulders to pry her away before pushing myself up and away from Santana to sit, almost cowering against the headboard of the bed.

"Fuck, fuck, fuck.."

Eyes wide, I watched as Santana's rose tinted face fell into a frown, realization dawning upon her about what had just happened.

"Brittany!... I'm sorry," She stuttered, reaching out to place her hand against my tense shoulder, but I flinched away from her touch. "I didn't-.. I thought you-… I'm sorry,"

She curled into herself, dress still bunched around her hips as she wrapped her arms around her own torso.

"Well you thought wrong," I spat back at her, fighting any slight urge inside of me that wanted to reach out and comfort the almost shaking girl in front of me. I couldn't touch her. If I did, I would turn into that pathetic jello that wouldn't be able to get away. Again.

I needed to regain my status. No one ever overthrew me so easily. I wasn't weak. Not to anyone.

"But you… Asked me to kiss you," Her voice was small, and I barely had time to register that tears were starting to form in her eyes before they were spilling freely down her cheeks. Santana's bottom lip quivered, and it took everything from me to bark back at her.

"You can go now. I can take care of myself,"

I tightened my jaw and lowered my eyes away from Santana before I could change my mind. The stung.. But I wasn't going to cry. I never cried.

"Brittany, please," She whimpered. "I'm sorry, I-I won't do that again, I promise Just…can we please just forget about it? We…we were becoming friends, and I really liked it, we can go back to that. I won't tell anyone about this and we can forget it. Please."

I couldn't forget it. How could I?

"We weren't friends." I spat. I couldn't be friends with Santana… And I couldn't have a soft spot for anyone. Whatever this was? Whatever I felt for Santana? I had to get away from it as fast as I could. I wasn't that kind of person, and I definitely wasn't gay.

"Just fuck off, Lopez."

Moving across the bed to the cold sheets, I shoved myself below the sheets, turning away from Santana as I covered my body. Closing my eyes, I tried to control my breathing, stopping the erratic way my lungs were trying to inhale.

It took more than a few minutes of listening to Santana's sniffing and soft sobbing before the bed shifted and Santana moved around the room to collect her things. Keeping my eyes tightly shut, I didn't move until I heard the door open and close with a click.

And I was alone.


I lifted my head from the covers of the bed to find them stained and soaked with my tears.

I didn't know how long it had been since Santana left. Minuets? Hours? I had just been frozen. Scared that I would run after her. I couldn't afford to show the weakness in my chink-less armor or I would be ruined. The shield I had built around myself since elementary school would be shattered and I would crumble. I didn't do feelings and never have, so what gave a girl the right to waltz into my life, changing everything I had ever known about myself. It made me feel small and pathetic.

I threw the limp covers off my body and swung my legs over the edge to stand up off the bed. I loved the bed when I had stayed before time and time again, but now it just felt like a prison. My skin crawled and my head was pounding from the excess I had been drinking the night before. There was nothing I could possibly do about that, unless Santana came back to comfort me and soothe it all, in a way that only she could

Catching my trail of thought, I growled at myself and made a move to kick the nightstand next to the bed. The furniture clattered to the floor as pain shot from my big toe, all the way up into my calf. It was a stupid move, but I couldn't stand it otherwise. I couldn't be in the room any longer, and I needed to get out as quickly as I could.

Ignoring the slight limp I now sported, I rushed around the room to find my scattered clothes from the night before, throwing them haphazardly over my body. I didn't care what I looked like, and anyone that may still be lingering around in the house from the night before knew better than to talk to me. If they did, I didn't have any moral issues with throwing a punch or two. I was far past the point of caring about that – more than I usually was.

Running from the room and down the elaborate staircase that ran through the center of Sugar's house, I made a beeline for the nearest exit to the outside grounds. Though the fresh air away from the stale after party haze felt incredible against my sweat stained skin, I didn't have time to bask in it. My eyes fell to where my bike sat, the rest of the courtyard blurring into nothingness at the edges of my vision. I was tunnel-set, and I needed to get home as quickly as I could.

Swinging her leg over, I roared the heavy engine to life. I pushed off the ground almost instantly with a mighty engine rev, not caring to even think about where I had left my helmet. The sharp air hit my stinging eyes like a million sharp knives as I hit the road and picked up speed. I squinted through the pain, weaving through the light early morning traffic until I was at the center of town

I didn't realize I had started to cry until the force of air around my head pushed a tear into my mouth, the saltiness bitter against my tongue. Turning into the parking lot of my apartment building, I let out a deep sob.

I swerved, losing control of my handlebar.

With a beastly sound of scraping metal, I found myself tumbling to the concrete as the machine leaped out from under me. Through my body scraped against the ground, I felt numb as I crumpled in a heap, unmoving.

Coughing lightly before taking in a deep breath to make up for what I had lost, I took a few moments to myself before I shakily went to stand back up on my feet. Without even sending a second glance towards the motorcycle that lay lifeless a few feet away from me, I turned on my heel and storm towards my apartment block.

Just as I unlocked the door with trembling hands, I felt my phone vibrate where I had shoved it haphazardly into my bra. Pulling it out as I kicked the door shut behind me, I clumsily navigated to my messages.

Text from: Fuckerman -
[ Hope you enjoyed your night macking on that little nerd ;) Hot, Britt. I didn't know you were into licking pussy, even if this is all for a bet. Invite me next time. Daddy likes a girl on girl show. Don't forget about me now you're a lesbo lol! ]

With a scream, I threw my phone against the wall. The sound of the crack hit my ears.

Breathing heavily, racked with guilt and distress, I tore into her apartment. Running into my living room area, all I could think of was the smirk on Puckerman's face as he evidently watched me get with Santana. What he must have thought of me being with a woman. Who else might have seen what I was doing and now assumed thing about me that weren't true.

I thought about Santana, and how much I hated that I enjoyed the feel of her against me. How good her lips felt against my own, and how much I really didn't want to stop. I couldn't think like that. I wasn't gay. I couldn't be gay, and Santana could never, ever be my friend. She couldn't be my anything.

In an instant of blind rage, my fist collided against the solid wall, a sharp cry leaving my mouth as all that desperation and all that frustration left me the instant a bone cracked in my hand.

The pain hit me in an instant, and I slid down the wall, cradling my throbbing hand with my other, the red hot agony more soothing to me than I would like to admit.

Though it hurt, and the concrete scrapes started to sting, the pain was but a blemish to the ache I felt in my chest.


A/N: Yikes! SORRY!