A/N: And we're back! Apologies for the lack of updates. Some of you will know why…regardless, I'm back for YOU GUYS. Cos you're all kinds of awesome :)
Should have more regular updates from here on in…if my allergies play ball :/
Enjoy!
-H
Disclaimer: I do not own Glee :(
CHAPTER 4
Santana was lying on her bed, reading a book and tapping her foot softly to the music playing in her room when there was a knock on her door.
"Pasa," Santana called, her eyes glued the words on the page in front of her.
"Mija, tiene visita," Carmen said, opening the door.
Santana glanced over the edge of her book. She never got visitors. Her mouth opened slightly when Rachel Berry stepped into her bedroom, looking around with interest.
"Gracias, mami," Santana said quickly, giving her mother a look that told her to vamoose.
Carmen obliged and Santana sat up. "What are you doing here?"
The cheerleader was wearing black skinny jeans, a loose white top and a leather jacket. Four-inch heels completed the look.
Rachel looked at the Latina in confusion. "Party tonight? I'm taking you?"
Santana looked at her watch. "It's like ten pm. I thought you weren't going."
Rachel laughed. "Oh, no. I don't show up until at least ten-thirty. That way I skip all the lightweights who think it's ok to feel up a cheerleader."
Santana frowned. "So this is how you pick someone up for a date? No message to say you're going to be there at a certain time? No heads up at all?"
Rachel's smile fell and Santana felt a little better. She'd thought that when she'd agreed to a date with Rachel that she'd be seeing some improvement, but this just proved that Rachel had no idea how to date someone.
"Have you actually ever dated someone?" Santana asked.
"Uh, like going to dinner and movies?" Rachel asked, looking nervous.
"That's one date," Santana replied. "What I'm referring to is going out with one person several times. Without sex," she added, seeing the look of triumph on Rachel's face.
It fell as soon as Santana added the condition.
"That's what I was afraid of," Santana muttered. "Rachel, you can't just show up whenever if you make plans with someone. What if I don't want to go anymore? You told me that you'd get here around seven. That was three hours ago. I don't know how you normally operate, but I don't take kindly to being treated like someone who doesn't matter enough."
"What?" Rachel asked in alarm, her eyes meeting Santana's. "No, no, but you do matter! I'm sorry, Santana. I know I'm messing this up and it hasn't even started."
She actually looked so forlorn that Santana decided to go easy on her.
"Fine, but this is your one get-out-of-jail-free card, Berry," Santana said, standing up and grabbing her jacket from the back of her desk chair. "I told you, I'm not that easy to crack. You've got some hard work ahead of you."
Rachel smiled. "And as I told you, Santana, challenge accepted."
Santana felt the cheerleader's eyes run over her body as she pulled her jacket on and she raised an eyebrow. "I'm not getting all dolled up like you, so don't even think about trying to convince me."
Rachel shook her head and smiled. "I like how you dress. It's all Santana. And I like Santana, so I like what you're wearing."
Santana furrowed her brow. "That made no sense whatsoever."
Rachel impulsively grabbed Santana's hand. "It means that I like who the way that you are, Santana. I don't want you to change."
Santana couldn't help the smile that crossed her face. "Who knew that Cherry Berry could be such a smooth talker?" she teased, linking their fingers.
"Cherry Berry?" Rachel asked in amusement.
"Yeah, cos you like cherries," Santana explained with a wink as she opened her door. "Mama, I'm going out. I'll be back later," she called, descending the steps with Rachel in tow.
Carmen looked up from the sink and raised an eyebrow at the linked fingers.
"Mija, es de buena educación presentar a las visitas," she said, giving her daughter a disapproving look.
Santana sighed. "Forgive me for forgetting because I have guests so often," she said dryly. "Carmen Lopez, meet Rachel Berry. Rachel, Mom. Mom, Rachel. Cheerleader, parent. All bases covered? We good?"
Rachel giggled and Carmen just smirked. "That tongue of yours, mija."
"I like it," Rachel said quietly, loud enough for only Santana to hear, though.
The Latina turned and grinned at Rachel.
"You have your keys, Santana?"
"Si, mami. Pasa una buena noche."
"You too. Te amo."
"Te amo. Bye!" Santana called, pulling Rachel out the front door.
"You have a very dramatic relationship with your mother," the cheerleader commented as they walked to her car.
Santana shrugged. "We're just very comfortable around each other. I can totally be myself and they don't get irritated or anything."
Rachel clicked the alarm off on her car and Santana's mouth dropped open. "Holy shit, is this your car?"
"Sweet sixteen present from my dads," Rachel replied proudly.
Santana tried to act relatively normal, but Rachel Berry was driving her dream car – a red Ford Thunderbird. Not in her favourite colour, but who the hell cared.
"You like it?" Rachel asked, getting in the driver's side.
"This is only the coolest car ever," Santana gushed. "Is it the 1959 convertible?"
"Uh…"
"Shit, Rachel! Do you have any idea how classic this car is?"
"Jesus, it's just a car!" Rachel chuckled, started the engine.
Santana shook her head and got in, closing her eyes to fully appreciate the rumble of the engine. She felt Rachel pull out of her driveway and begin their journey.
"I asked for this model as opposed to the first generation Thunderbird," Rachel commented suddenly.
Santana's eyes flew open and she looked at Rachel in surprise.
"What?" she asked with a grin, keeping one hand on the wheel and running the other through her hair. "Just because I'm a cheerleader, I don't know about vintage cars?"
"You are definitely full of surprises," Santana said with a smile. "So why did you forego the inaugural sports model?"
Rachel stopped at a red light and held Santana's gaze with a smirk. "This model has a back seat."
They arrived at Artie's house around ten-thirty. Rachel and Santana exited her car and the cheerleader reached out for the Latina's hand, her eyebrows raised in expectation. Santana closed the distance and linked their fingers with a small smile.
"I know that you generally don't give a shit what people think about you, and I actually admire that, but just remember that most of these guys are drunk and don't have a clue what they're saying."
"Are you telling me to be on my best behaviour, Berry?" Santana asked, humour in her tone.
Rachel stopped walking and turned to face Santana. She sighed. "I just don't want you to become uncomfortable or pissed off. I know that these guys haven't exactly made your life easy and I'm pretty sure that you could beat their asses in the blink of an eye, yet you haven't. So I'm asking you to exhibit that strength tonight because I'm telling you that you're gonna need it."
Rachel could see Santana struggling with the idea. She'd been looking forward to Artie's party all week, but if Santana was going to be uncomfortable, was it worth it?
The cheerleader took a breath, This whole thinking about someone else before herself was a really novice idea to her and it was taking some getting used to. As Santana had mercilessly pointed out earlier, Rachel was hopelessly inexperienced when it came to actually dating a girl. Even though she was fairly certain that she and Santana would eventually sleep together, she had a feeling that she was going to be made to work for it. And strangely enough, she found she didn't mind the idea. Rachel just knew that when they finally did have sex, it was going to be amazing.
"Ok," Santana said finally, bringing Rachel out of her head.
"You sure?"
Santana nodded. "I'll just make sure that I stay well away from the cavemen." She huffed. "I'm not even going to know anyone there, Rachel."
"You'll have me," Rachel replied, squeezing the hand she still held. "And Brittany will be there."
Santana scoffed again and followed Rachel. "No offence, but I doubt that I'll find very much in common with Wonder Barbie."
Rachel smiled. "That's pretty clever," she chuckled. "Wonder Barbie."
"You guys have a very interesting friendship, don't you?" Santana asked as the ascended the steps to the front door.
Rachel laughed. "That's definitely one way of putting it."
She opened the door and immediately pushed Santana out of the way of two guys on a skateboard.
"You could always just ask to push me up against a wall, you know?" Santana teased, her breath brushing Rachel's cheek. "You didn't have to organise two drunk guys on a skateboard."
Rachel raised her eyes and met Santana's playful ones. "Well, I thought you liked the whole knight in shining armour shit." She shrugged nonchalantly and smiled. "Guess now I know for next time."
She leaned in for a kiss, but pulled away at the last second, sending the Latina a mischievous smirk.
"We can play dirty, Berry," Santana said, walking very close behind her and husking in her ear. It sent shivers down Rachel's spine.
Rachel and Santana walked into the kitchen and the cheerleader ignored all the looks of confusion at her company.
"What do you want to drink?" she asked, looking at the array of alcohol on the counter.
"Whatever," Santana shrugged. "Vodka?"
Rachel grabbed the vodka, a bottle of lemonade and two cups before inclining her head towards the living room. She'd been to Artie's house enough times to know where her friends would be hanging out. Sure enough, the Cheerios were all lounging on the chairs, chatting amongst themselves over the thud of Artie's brother's band.
"Rach! 'Bout fuckin' time!"
Rachel rolled her eyes. "Britt, your shirt is open again," she sighed. "God, whenever you get drunk you turn into a stripper. It's messed up."
"Hahaha, but you secretly like it," Brittany slurred, trying to do her buttons up but hopelessly confusing herself.
"Santana, could you hold this for me?" Rachel asked, handing her the alcohol and cups.
She deftly did Brittany's shirt up and led her to the couch that she'd vacated. With a flick of her wrist, the other two Cheerios stood up, making space for Rachel and Santana.
The small cheerleader quickly poured a drink for herself and Santana.
"Welcome to your first high school party," Rachel said, knocking their cups together.
"And what makes you think this is my first high school party?" Santana asked, sitting back and looking at Rachel in amusement.
"Allow me to rephrase," Rachel amended, "your first real high school party."
Santana rolled her eyes. "You upper class gotta be the best at everything, huh?"
Rachel leaned back and settled next to Santana. "You really don't think much of us, do you?"
Santana shrugged and took a sip. "So far, you're the only one that's proven to me that status doesn't mean everything. Your bestie over there is still one of the biggest bullies McKinley's every seen. And nothing she does is accountable. That's what irritates me the most."
"Why? Aside from the obvious?"
"Because the saddest thing is that all you Cheerios are gonna go out into the real world and suddenly, there isn't going to be anyone there to cover your ass if you fuck up."
Rachel blinked in surprise.
Shit. That actually makes a lot of sense.
"Whatryou guysss talkinbout?" Brittany slurred, falling over Rachel.
She squinted at Santana who simply raised an eyebrow and took another sip of her drink.
"I know you," the blonde said slowly, pointing a shaky finger. "Have you alwayyys had the…the…spectecta…spectacaaa-"
"Britt, this is Santana. We're in Glee with her," Rachel told her friend in irritation.
"Santana?" Brittany asked in confusion, but then her eyes went wide. "Santanaaa! Ssssshe's a good singer. Rachhh likes lisnin' to her. Pretty voice. Pretty skin."
Rachel's eyes popped at that and she heard Santana snort into her cup.
"Britt, I think you've had enough to drink," she said.
"No," the blonde said stubbornly, but allowing Rachel to sit her up properly. "I want more."
"Fine, hang on."
Rachel took Santana's cup and emptied the contents of her own cup into the Latina's and poured lemonade into the empty one.
"Here," she said, handing her friend the cup of straight lemonade.
Brittany took the proffered 'alcohol' and took a big sip. She winced. "Damn, Berry! S'strong! You don' need to make it so ssstrong."
Santana actually laughed out loud at Brittany's protest and Rachel just looked at her and smiled. She turned her body towards the Latina and leaned in. Santana met her half way for a soft kiss. Both of them ignored the catcalls and gasps around them.
"Are all real high school parties this awesome?" Santana asked dryly, swirling her full drink in her hand. "Seriously, no one's dancing. Everyone just drinks. Pretty sure that's not how a party's supposed to go."
"Oh, give it twenty minutes," Rachel replied. "These things all happen in cycles. Most people get their second wind at around eleven and the party picks up. Then it'll die down at about one if no one's called the cops."
"Uh, yeah, first siren I hear and I'm gone," Santana said. "You haven't met my dad. He'd kick my ass all the way to Puerto Rico so that my Abuela could kick it all the way back here."
Rachel chuckled. "I love how you speak."
Santana frowned and looked at Rachel strangely. "You mean how I use English to its full magnitude, as opposed to the shortened dialect the youth of today tend to spout?"
Rachel smiled. "Exactly. And I love how you manipulate the language by adding your own flair."
Santana smiled. "Thanks, Rachel." She leaned closer to the cheerleader's ear. "You should see how I manipulate Spanish."
Rachel felt another shiver run through her. She could only imagine Santana whispering Spanish in her ear as they were pressed up against each-
"Hey, cease and desist!" Santana said, poking Rachel in the ribs. "I know exactly where your mind went."
Rachel arched an eyebrow. "Like you weren't thinking the exact same thing?"
Santana grinned and took a sip. "Tell me something."
"What?"
"Anything."
"Um…ok." Rachel wracked her brain. "Oh, the first time I kissed a girl I cried."
Santana spat out the mouthful of vodka she had as she laughed. The Cheerios around them looked at her in disgust, but Rachel dealt with them with a glare.
"You can't actually be serious?" the Latina laughed.
Rachel shrugged. "I think it was because the girl I kissed looked absolutely terrified, like I'd given her rabies or something. For a few minutes, I think I thought I had."
Santana was still giggling.
"Ok, Miss Smarty Pants. Your turn."
"I outed myself."
Rachel froze. "What?"
Santana shrugged. "It wasn't like I ever pretended not to be gay, but I know how this school works so I figured the earlier everyone found out, the more time they'd have to actually get over themselves and I could just get on with my life. So I came onto that junior, Tracy, and let her own imagination do the rest. But it didn't go exactly according to my plan…"
"Yeah, enter the upperclassmen, huh?"
Santana smiled. "One day, I'd love to slushie them. Just so that they can feel what it's like. Not the humiliation or anything, although that'd be tops, but to actually just feel what it's like to have ice running down your back and have syrup burning your eyes."
"Maybe you can do that," Rachel suggested.
"Oh, yeah, that's a good idea,' Santana scoffed, rolling her eyes. "Really, Rachel? You honestly have no idea what life is like outside of your little bourgeois bubble, do you?"
"What the hell is that supposed to mean?" Rachel asked defensively.
"All I'm saying is that you're privileged. Yes, you took a slushie for me and it got you major brownie points for Operation Santana, but you're still in the penthouse. And I'm still in the sewers. And no matter what we do, that's how it is. One person can't make a difference."
"For someone who preaches about being open-minded, you're pretty quick to judge."
"Give me one good reason why I shouldn't!" Santana retorted.
"Like what?"
"You pretty much just proved my point there, Berry."
"Stop calling me that!" Rachel snapped, causing people around them to lean in closer.
"Oh, that's rich," Santana said, shaking her head. "It's fine for you guys to come up with all sorts of nicknames for me and my friends, but when I call you by your actual surname, I'm offending you? Priceless."
"I've never called you any names."
"Maybe not to my face," Santana countered. She sighed. "Maybe this wasn't such a good idea."
"Why, because I'm not someone who bows down to you?"
"What the hell does that mean?"
"Oh, please, I'm not blind, Santana. Everyone thinks that Quinn is the bigwig in Glee, but actually, it's you. You let Quinn be in charge because you can control her. And you control the Glee Club. You play the martyr by standing up for them and taking all the punishment, but really, you just want the control."
Santana's eyes narrowed and Rachel feared that she may have overstepped. But Santana was the one that had started attacking her in the first place. It wasn't in her nature to just sit back and take it.
The Latina stood up, but Rachel grabbed her hand. "Where are you going?"
"If it would please Her Majesty to know, I wish to use the lavatory, if I may?" Santana snapped sarcastically.
Rachel dropped her hand and fell back into the couch, folding her arms and scowling. This definitely wasn't going at all according to plan.
Santana pushed her way through the crowd and headed for the back door. Once outside on a spacious deck, she breathed in the crisp air. Closing her eyes, she just let the noise from inside the house fade away.
"Hey."
Santana groaned silently. She couldn't even get two fucking minutes to herself anymore. She turned to Puck.
"What's up?"
"You here with Rachel?"
"What do you care?" Santana asked, arching an eyebrow.
"I don't." Puck shrugged.
"Puck, I don't give a shit what you do with your Cheerios, but if you hurt Quinn, I swear-"
"Did she say something to you?' Puck asked urgently.
Santana frowned. "No, is there something she needs to tell me?"
Puck went red and looked down. "I'm sure she'll tell you if she wants to. I mean, girls talk about that kind of stuff, right? Or maybe cos you like girls too, she won't."
"What the fuck are you talking about?"
"Uh, nothing," Puck said quickly, pulling out his phone. "Uh, I gotta take one of my buddies home. He's totally passed out."
Santana shook her head. Puck's phone hadn't even been on. What the hell was he doing with Quinn? And why hadn't her supposed best friend even mentioned anything? She pulled out her own phone and typed out a message.
Puck seems to think that there's something that you and I should be talking about. I'm as curious as he is to know what it's about.
She took a deep chug of the vodka in her cup, feeling it burn slightly as it went down. Rachel had only been half right – she hadn't been to the typical high school party, but she was a pro at handling her liquor. She had three older brothers for Christ's sake. They'd taught their baby sister well.
"Heeeeeey."
Santana groaned audibly this time as Brittany stumbled outside.
"Iss Santanaaa! Heeeey!"
"You're drunk," Santana told her sternly.
"Yup," Brittany replied proudly. She pouted. "Why you so mean?"
"I'm mean?" Santana asked incredulously. "That's a little rich coming from you, don't you think?"
"I dunno what you said now," Brittany mumbled. "But you…you ssshould be nice to my friend, Rachel. Cos Rachel likes you."
Santana rolled her eyes.
"An' I can totally see why cos she told me everything. Like how hot you look in your bra and stuff and how you're sexier than me, but hello! Thass impossible cos I'm alllll kinds o' sexy. I gots maaah swag on."
The blonde giggled as she tried to do a sexy shimmy and almost fell over. Instinct overran Santana's brain and she reached out, grabbing Brittany's arms and lowering her to the floor.
"I wanna see if you're sexy than me," Brittany demanded from her new position on the floor, something she didn't quite seem to realise.
"Uh huh, keep believing whatever you need to, Wonder Barbie."
"I'm not a Barbie," Brittany said in a determined voice. "Who the fugg d'you think you are to call me a Parpie?"
Santana chuckled. At times like this she wished she had the vindictive nature to record Brittany's ramblings and circulate it around the school on Monday. But, it wasn't who Santana was – something she was debating was a good or bad thing. Her father had always told her that fighting fire with fire only made the fire bigger. You had to fight fire with water to douse its power.
"Where's your posse?" Santana asked the blonde. "Don't you have some charioteers that can cart you home?"
Brittany squinted at her. "I dunno what you sayin'. Aren't you s'posed to be clever or summin'?"
"Yeah, definitely or something," Santana muttered.
Why am I even still here?
She walked towards the door and saw Rachel heading for the small stage. She leaned against the doorframe where she had an unobstructed view of the small cheerleader having some words with the lead guitarist. He nodded after a while and Rachel picked up the microphone. Santana's eyes widened.
Oh no. No, no, no, no, no, no, no, not here. Please God, no, no, no.
"Hey, losers," Rachel said into the mic, immediately receiving a chorus of cheers and whistles. "So, it's come to my attention that this party's kind of blowing so I thought I'd kick it off a little."
The crowd responded appreciatively and Santana raised an eyebrow. Three weeks in Glee Club and Rachel Berry was now an impromptu performer? Santana wouldn't deny that she had the talent; in fact she had oodles of it. She just never pegged her as the extemporaneous performance type.
"People can come from different worlds, but often all you need is a bridge to bring those two worlds together," Rachel said softly into the mic and Santana met her eyes.
The cheerleader gave her a small smile and nodded to the guitarist. She started bouncing on her feet as the heavy chords echoed from the speakers. Rachel Berry doing rock? Santana smirked. This should be interesting to say the least.
I'm so addicted to
All the things you do
When you're going down on me
In between the sheets
Or the sound you make
With every breath you take
It's unlike anything
When you're loving me
Santana blushed. She could see eyes flitting between her and Rachel in her peripheral vision, but the cheerleader's brown eyes were locked on hers and she was giving the song her all.
Oh girl, let's take it slow
So as for you,
Well you know where to go
I want to take my love
And hate you til the end
It's not like you to turn away
From all the bullshit I can't take
It's not like me to walk away
I'm so addicted to
All the things you do
When you're going down on me
In between the sheets
Or the sound you make
With every breath you take
It's unlike anything
When you're loving me
Yeah.
Once again, Rachel Berry was putting herself out there in song. It was definitely an unorthodox apology – was it even an apology? They both believed what they believed and one little date wasn't about to change that.
I know when it's getting rough
All the times we spend
Trying to make this love
Something better than
Just making love again
It's not like you to turn away
All the bullshit I can't take
Just when I think I can walk away
I'm so addicted to
All the things you do
When you're going down on me
In between the sheets
Or the sound you make
With every breath you take
It's unlike anything
I'm so addicted to
The things you do
When you're going down on me
Or the sound you make
With every breath you take
It's unlike anything
When you're loving me
When you're loving me
How can I make it through
All the things you do
There's just got to be more to you and me
I'm so addicted to
All the things you do
When you're going down on me
In between the sheets
Or the sound you make
With every breath you take
It's unlike anything
It's unlike anything
I'm so addicted to
All the things you do
When you roll around with me
Or the sound you make
With every breath you take
It's unlike anything
I'm so addicted to you
Addicted to you
One thing was for damn sure. If McKinley High had any doubts about Rachel and Santana sleeping together, the shorter brunette's song had pretty much decimated any of that.
Santana sighed as Rachel handed the mic back the guitarist who immediately launched into another song as the dance floor was now full of people. She stayed where she was and waited for Rachel to come to her.
"Hey," the cheerleader breathed when she was standing in front of her.
Her eyes were sparkling and Santana recognised the adrenaline of performing as it tingled through her body. She got it every time she sang too.
"What was that supposed to be?" she asked. "Because the only thing it served was to let every single person here know that we're having sex, when we are most definitely not."
"Jesus, Santana, I was trying to tell you that I know we're different and hey, we might not be soul mates and grow old together, but that's not what I'm asking of you. I like you. We do have a few things in common and I'd love to discover more about you. We're probably going to have a lot of fights because we're both stubborn and we come from two very different worlds, but maybe that's not always a bad thing."
"Bridges, huh?" Santana asked with a smirk.
Rachel smiled shyly and looked down. Santana tipped her chin up.
"You know what lots of fighting means, right?"
Rachel grinned. "Lots of make up sex."
"I think we might be able to find some kind of arrangement here," Santana said softly, leaning down and kissing Rachel.
Hands were quickly on Santana's waist, fingers digging into her skin as her tongue darted out to trace Rachel's lips. The smaller girl moaned and pushed Santana against the door.
"Is this a more obvious way of me asking?" Rachel breathed, pressing their bodies together.
Santana bit her lip and nodded. "You didn't actually ask, but it's ok."
Their mouths met again, open and hungry.
Brittany's head was thick and hazy. She felt like she was floating, but she wasn't going anywhere. God, how had she had to drink? And why did she drink so much?
She tried standing up, but her stomach protested and she barely had time to turn to the side before the last three hours of drinking made its reappearance.
"Ew," Brittany grimaced when she'd stopped heaving.
She did feel infinitely better though. She stood up slowly, using the balcony on the deck as support. The fresh air was also sharpening her senses. She could hear the music and she smiled. She loved this song. Taking a few moments to compose herself, Brittany focused on the door and headed for it.
As she walked through, a voice immediately to her left caught her attention. It only caught her attention because the voice was speaking Spanish and it reminded her that she still had to hand in a paper on what she'd done over the summer.
She blinked in surprise at the sight of Santana pressing Rachel against the door, their bodies tight against each other and Santana speaking Spanish in Rachel's ear whilst her hands were running all over the smaller girl's body.
Wow. That actually looks quite hot.
What the fuck is wrong with you, Brittany?
The blonde frowned. That last voice sounded strangely like her mother's. Why was her mother in her head? She must still be drunk.
She wasn't exactly sure why she was watching her best friend make out (heavily, she might add) with the school weirdo, but someone calling her name eventually snapped her out of her trance.
"Britt!" Finn Hudson was yelling at her, waving frantically.
She grinned. Finn Hudson. He would make a very good replacement plaything. Puck was ancient history. He'd been staring at his phone the whole fucking night, looking like a lost puppy dog. Queen Quinn must've done something pretty extravagant to make him so whipped. She definitely didn't need a little boy.
But Finn, now he had definite promise. He was on the football team, he had a smoking body and he could dance – something that Brittany found very alluring in any potential plaything. She moved onto the dance floor and took his outstretched hand. They immediately moulded to each other's body and moved to the music. It was effortless when she danced with Finn. Puck was co-ordinated and could kind of grind, but it wasn't nearly as fluid as when she was moving with Finn. She also knew that dancers' were the best in bed because they were so flexible and agile. Brittany didn't know from her experience with guys, but she did know that she was flexible and agile and that any guy who could do what she did, could only be great in the sack.
Brittany spun around, remembering that if she wanted any kind of action, she was going to need to visit the bathroom to rid her mouth of its terrible vomit aftertaste.
She motioned to Finn that she was going to the bathroom and pushed her way through the crowd. She immediately went to the upstairs bathroom even though Artie told everyone they weren't allowed upstairs.
She pushed the bathroom door open and froze.
"Oh, fuck," Rachel giggled, pulling her top up to cover her chest.
Santana had Rachel pressed up against the sink, her thigh in between her legs. Rachel's bra was lying on the ground and Santana's shirt was underneath it. Brittany's eyes met the Latina's and the dark desire that was pulsating through them made her shiver.
What the fuck? Ok, so you just caught your best friend about to do the nasty. So what? It wouldn't be the first time. But…
It had to be because she was horny too. She hadn't been underneath anyone since Puck dumped her the first week of school and she was pretty damn desperate.
"Are you done?" she eventually asked.
"Does it look like we're done?" Santana snapped back, her hands disappearing under Rachel's top.
Brittany watched her hands moving under the white top and saw Rachel's eyes widen and a yelp escape her lips. She shook her head and squeezed her eyes closed. What the hell was wrong with her?
When she opened them again, she figured she probably should've left them closed. Santana was rocking her hips against Rachel's and they were kissing furiously. Brittany found herself briefly wondering what it would feel like. It looked incredibly sensual. Soft, yet so passionate. Did she look like that with guys? With Puck, or with Finn? She doubted it – they weren't soft.
WAIT! Jesus, Brittany! What the fuck is going on with you?
Rachel moaned and Brittany quickly pulled the door closed, hating how flushed she suddenly felt. It was the alcohol, definitely. And the adrenaline of dancing. And she was fucking horny! That was it. There was no other explanation why seeing Rachel and Santana had turned her on so much. It was just a combination of things.
Yup. That's exactly it. Now where's Artie's parents' room again?
"God, I thought she'd never leave," Santana mumbled against Rachel's neck, licking the skin she'd just marked.
"Hmmm," Rachel murmured, tangling her fingers in Santana's hair and arching back into the delicious friction the Santana was providing between her legs.
Santana pulled the white top that Rachel had half put on to cover herself and let her mouth run against the smooth skin of her chest. Rachel hissed as Santana took a nipple in her mouth and swirled it around with her tongue.
"Fuck!"
"That's the general idea," Santana replied after releasing the stiff nipple with a pop.
She was about to move to Rachel's other breast when her phone went off. Knowing that it could be her parents, Santana pulled back and reached into her back pocket.
"No, don't stop," Rachel moaned, kissing Santana's neck.
The Latina froze as she read the text message. Rachel felt it and stopped kissing her neck.
"What is it?" she whispered.
Santana showed her the screen. It was a message from Quinn.
I'm pregnant.
A/N: Never fear, I'm going to do something a little different with the baby storyline, never you fear :)
I've always pictured Lea Michele having the capability to really pull off a rock song. So I decided to have her sing Addicted by Saving Abel. Pretty hot vid ;p Plus, it totally works with my idea of her character :)
Don't forget to check out my original novella (if you're so inclined) on FictionPress. Same handle ;)
Feedback is muchly loved :)
-H