Pairing: (AU) Brittany S. Pierce/Santana Lopez
Rating: NC-17
Word Count: 3.5+K
Disclaimer: I do not own Glee or any of its affiliated places.
A/N: Hello again! I'm floored by the amount of follows/faves/reviews yet again! I'm so glad to see y'all enjoying this story so far! Sorry that it's taken me a bit to update. I can give endless excuses, but no one wants to hear them haha.
And after reading your reviews I did pick up on a few things that I would like to address.
1. I understand people weren't expecting what happened between Brittany and Sam, and you're all here because you're rooting for Brittana, so some didn't like that particular scene, I'd say I'm sorry but I'm not, this is my story and things happen the way I plan them too, it's all part of a bigger picture, things don't always go smoothly for our leading ladies and mistakes are made, but I assure you all that Brittana is endgame. Just give it time
2. Someone mentioned the switch of POVs between Brittany and Santana, and I do apologize for that because it can get a bit confusing sometimes. But I tried my hardest to keep the change as obvious and smooth as possible. I'll try to stay away from that for the most part, but there will be a part entirely from Santana's POV in the future
3. This is no longer a two-shot, it'll be more like a full fic, though I'm not sure how long it'll end up. We'll just have to wait and see
4. One last thing to clear up. Canon!Brittany kissed nearly every person at McKinley High, so it's safe for me to assume that our little darling can be a bit promiscuous or simply a very sexual being, and I love writing her as such. So I can tell you all that Sam/Brittany won't be the only non-Brittana 'coupling' happening.
With all that being said, I do hope you enjoy the chapter.
When Brittany hadn't shown her face at the gym in days and avoided Puck and Rachel's texts and calls, Brittany received a call from Quinn. Begrudgingly she answered with a timid, "Hey Quinn."
"B, where have you been? We've all been so worried about you!"
She cleared her throat, picking at the hem of her t-shirt, mumbling, "I've just not been in a gym mood lately.."
"I don't buy that excuse. You're going to meet me at the café in fifteen minutes and we'll talk okay?"
Brittany gave a small smile. "Yeah, sure Quinn. I'll see you soon."
"Don't leave me hanging," she said with a laugh before exchanging goodbyes and ending the call.
Brittany sighed heavily, staring at her phone for a long movement before moving to the bathroom to freshen up. After slipping into a pair of denim shorts and changing into a purple v-neck, Brittany jumped in her car and headed to the café she normally met Quinn at. It wasn't far and normally Brittany would walk (or jog) but her knee had been killing her ever since the incident last week.
Quinn was waiting for her in a booth by the window and gave a small wave as Brittany queued up in line, waving back. Minutes later she was sliding in across from her pink haired friend with the smallest of grimaces. Quinn picked up on it, raising an eyebrow while asking, "What's wrong?"
The blonde pouted slightly, staring down at her cup of hot chocolate as she fiddled with the lid. "Nothing really.." She spared a glance up, catching Quinn's piercing hazel eyes before sighing and dropping her chin to her chest. "Just an old dancing injury acting up."
"Oh," she gasped softly, "I'm sorry to hear that. Is it why you haven't been at the gym?" Brittany nodded sheepishly, thinking, Among other things. "Mind if I inquire further?"
Brittany sipped at her drink before answering. "It was an accident while goofing off with friends. I landed a jump wrong and tore my meniscus."
"Torn meniscus," Quinn repeated quietly, her mind spinning for a moment over memories and facts until she leant forward with wide eyes, saying, "Isn't that a serious injury?"
"Not always," Brittany murmured with a one shouldered shrug. "But I didn't get it checked out right away and it became worse.." She slowly met her friend's worried eyes before admitting softly, "I need to have corrective surgery."
Quinn reached out, laying a hand over Brittany's, her voice quiet, "It's that bad?"
Brittany closed her eyes, twisting her wrist so she could grab the hand tighter as she nodded. "Yeah. I really screwed it up last time I was at the gym. I pushed myself too hard on the treadmill because I was frustrated and I'd been helping Mike with classes which I should not have been, and I just really messed up Q."
When Brittany's thin bottom lip began to tremble, Quinn pulled her hand closer, wrapping it up in both of hers and giving a squeeze. "Britt, you can't keep doing this, you need that surgery or you'll ruin your knee."
There was a sniffle and two wet dots appeared on the table before Brittany met her friend's gaze, her eyes watery, "I know, but it's so scary. Like afterwards I won't be able to do much of anything for at least six weeks and I'm afraid that if I can't dance, I'll-I'll just-It's like 'use it or lose it' and I'm scared I won't be as good as I once was."
Quinn offered a sympathetic smile, "Sweetheart, if you can't use your knee it won't matter anyway because you won't be able to dance at all." Fear flickered across the blonde's face and Quinn winced from the tightness of Brittany's grip on her hands. "The surgery sounds like the best thing for you right now."
The blonde nodded frantically, letting go of her drink to swipe the wetness out from under her eyes, choking out a, "Y-yeah, I know." She paused to take in a shuddering breath before saying, "That's why I wanted to talk to Mike and see if he'll be my physical therapist afterwards."
"He loves you like a sister already, I'm sure he'd have no problem with it, Britt, there's no need to worry about it."
"I don't want to take away from his time teaching classes at the gym though, so I was thinking maybe only do it before or after hours."
"That's sweet of you," Quinn smiled adoringly, "But I don't think he'd mind."
Brittany shook her head, "I don't want to impose. I'll work around his schedule, I don't want to take away from his personal time on his days off or anything like that."
Quinn stroked her thumbs along the warm skin of Brittany's hand, "You're too kind Britt, always putting others first." Brittany's lips curled bashfully. "If you weren't injured I'd ask you out again for drinks and dancing," her fingertips lightly teased the skin of Brittany's wrist.
The blonde's smiled turned impish. She remembered that night. The alcohol had her buzzed as she'd danced with Quinn, closer and more intimately than just friends. Blue locked with hazel for a long moment before drifting over Quinn's soft features. Quinn was pretty, like really pretty, and obviously Brittany had no chance with Santana (since the Latina hadn't made a move after all that teasing), so why not test the waters?
Brittany smiled easily and leaned forward into her friend's touch. "I'd drink and dance with you any time, even with a bum knee."
Quinn giggled and rolled her eyes, "Such the charmer."
"I try," she replied, her smile bright.
Quinn grinned back, "Alright. We'll have another fun night, but on one condition."
"Yes?" She tilted her head curiously.
"Set up your surgery and talk to Mike."
Brittany swallowed thickly, shutting down momentarily. It was Quinn's fingers dragging along her forearm that brought her back to reality, and she nodded stiffly. "Only because you're blackmailing me," she teased, smiling tightly.
Quinn squeezed her arm, "You'll be thanking me by the end of the night." The twinkle in her eyes has Brittany questioning what exactly she'd be thanking the woman for.
"So we're going out tonight then?" She asked, smirking.
"After a few phone calls, yes." Such an answer caused Brittany to pout slightly.
Mike was more encouraging than Brittany thought he would be, of course this was after the initial verbal beat down of how she could have treated her body with such neglect after the incident. Guilt weighed heavily on her shoulders and she managed to call her doctor without crying through most of the conversation. He was glad to hear back from her, though surprised it had taken so long. She was penciled in for surgery at 8am Monday morning. Today was Saturday. She felt the nerves already.
But now was not the time for that, she had a date to prepare for! Was it a date? Quinn did seem to be attracted to her and Brittany mirrored that attraction. Granted she felt as if she'd always be a bit stuck on that damn Latina. Oh well. Brittany sorted through her best dresses, eventually settled on something entirely different: a pair of cut-off denim shorts (extra short), a grayish off the shoulder ruffled top, the strap of her black bra peeking out and a pair of tan boots. Brittany added a few bracelets some unruly curls to her hair and a touch of make-up to complete her ensemble.
Before leaving her apartment, Brittany made sure to thoroughly stretch out the muscles in her legs. No need to ruin a potentially great night by locking up her knee on the dance floor and hobbling home in an entirely not-sexy way. They were meeting at the same club as last time, so as soon as Britt was done with her stretches she locked the place up and hailed a cab. Once at the club she ordered herself a drink and checked the time. Quinn should be showing up soon.
Once her friend had shown up, Brittany eagerly ordered them a shot to get the party started, then they hit the dance floor. Brittany merely swayed and rocked her hips to the beat, letting her arms do more movement than anything. She couldn't risk over-doing herself, again.
After several songs of grinding bodies and wandering hands the duo made their way back to the bar, ordering drinks to quench their thirst. Brittany was out of breath and panting as she watched the bartender mix the different alcohols, that she didn't notice Quinn's momentary leering, or when those hazel eyes drifted away to take in their surroundings.
They made idle chit chat about how their week had been, until Brittany's blue eyes brightened and she exclaimed, "I love this song!" Before dragging Quinn back to the dance floor and bringing their bodies together.
Brittany moved to the beat of the music, grinding herself erotically against the once-blonde woman. She smirked hearing Quinn's sharp intake of breath and spun around, fitting her ass against the woman's hips and slowing her motions. Quinn's hands were on her hips, squeezing rhythmically and Brittany was floating, either from the alcohol, music or combination of both. She leaned back, humming at the feel of Quinn's breasts against her back and brought her hand up to tangle in short pink hair.
Quinn brought their bodies closer, her breath in the blonde's ear. Now Brittany was positively buzzing with excitement. The dancer pulled away only long enough to turn herself around. Then molded their bodies together again and moving hers sensually against Quinn's. Once hand cupped her firm ass, the other tangled in the hair at the base of her neck and Brittany found herself staring down into hooded hazel eyes, darkened with lust. With a wicked smile, Brittany grabbed Quinn's ass and yanked their bodies firmly together before fusing their lips.
Quinn's a good kisser.
But the dance floor was hot and steamy and they could only kiss for so long, before Brittany was pulling away to gulp down fresh air. Quinn's lips were quick to tease the skin of her neck and bare shoulder. Brittany smiled, her eyes fluttering, then snapping wide open, almost in panic. She could have sworn she'd seen a familiar tan face framed with raven hair. Hearing the song switch, Brittany took the opportunity to take Quinn by the hand and lead her back to the bar for another drink.
It was seconds after the glasses were set in front of them that Brittany heard it.
"Oh, I think that's Santana over there."
Brittany instantly froze, her mouth running dry, "No way, seriously? Where?"
Quinn eyed the frazzled blonde for a moment before chuckling. She slid her arm around those lean shoulders and grabbed her chin, directing Brittany to look at the bar corner of the bar where Santana was quietly talking to Rachel.
Brittany only had a moment to compose herself before Quinn was tugging her towards the two brunettes. The blonde took a deep breath and large gulp of her beverage.
"Hey guys!" Quinn greeted cheerfully, swallowing Rachel in a hug and nudging Santana in the shoulder.
"Quinn! Britt!" The shorter brunette squealed, hugging back enthusiastically then doing the same for Brittany, squealing in her ear, "What are you two doing here?"
"We're celebrating," Quinn said with a grin too wicked for her innocent face. When Santana stared with an unreadable expression, the hazel-eyed woman rolled her eyes and chuckled, explaining, "Brittany's finally decided to go through with her surgery."
Brown eyes snapped in the direction of said blonde, exclaiming, "What?" before Rachel could say anything.
With that probing gaze focused on her, Brittany couldn't help but duck her head and shrug her shoulders, "Uh, yeah." She looked up through her eyelashes, meeting the Latina's imploring eyes, and swallowing thickly, before continuing, "I, uh, over-worked an old dance injury last time I was at the gym."
The way Santana's eyebrows were drawn together with concern lacing her features, Brittany had a difficult time not blushing. "Are you okay?" She asked lowly.
Quinn's arm slid over her shoulders and Brittany could see the way Santana's face slowly transformed back into indifferent as the pink-haired woman spoke, "Obviously not, hence the surgery Santana." A muscle ticked in the Latina's jaw.
Brittany broke in before things could get ugly, "I'm actually fine."
Quinn looked at her incredulously and Santana slowly returned her gaze to the blonde's face. "Good to know," she said coolly.
So distant and cold. It stung and Brittany could feel the corners of her mouth pulling down. But she didn't want to show Santana how much she was effected by her words, she turned her head towards Quinn, saying, "I'm going to dance," before extricating herself out from under her arm and patting Rachel's arm, heading right to the dance floor without looking back.
Of course Santana had to be here. And of course she and Quinn had gone to school together and been fiends, so Quinn had to say hello. But really? Of all the clubs, Santana had to choose this one? The night Brittany was dragged out? On a date, no less. Brittany thought she'd been able to rid her mind of the darker skinned woman, but stumbling across her today had her realizing that she'd always been in the back of her mind. Even, she mused, while kissing and dancing with Quinn.
Brittany angrily shook her head and closed her eyes, forcing her body into an aggressive dance that matched the quick tempo and low bass of the new song. She was so immersed in losing herself that she didn't feel someone slide up behind her until their hands were modestly placed on her waist, and "Easy there, tiger," was purred into her ear.
She'd only heard the voice a handful of times, but Brittany could place that raspy tone in the loudest of places. She huffed in aggravation. Oh, so now Santana wanted to be around her? Brittany jerked her body forward, away from the woman, and continued her dance.
Moments later the same hands were back, this time gripping her hips tightly. "You need to calm down before you hurt yourself, Brittany," she growled.
The blonde was momentarily paralyzed, the only movement a shiver as a chill crept its way up her spine. She twisted her body to face the woman, but Santana held firm, only allowing the blonde to face forward. "Why do you care?" Brittany hissed over the music.
The hands slid up to Brittany's trim waist before squeezing gently as lips brushed over her ear, "Because it would be a shame if you never danced again."
It would sound like some ludicrous threat, but Santana's tone seemed more of an admiring fan than anything. Brittany's forehead creased with confusion. More so when she felt the Latina step closer and press against her still body, hands guiding the dancer to move her hips slowly from side to side.
"When did you hurt yourself?" Santana whispered above the sound of the music.
Brittany barely heard it over the blood rushing so loudly through her ears. Santana was tightly molded to her back, hips swaying in time to her own on the heated dance floor. It was almost too much to handle after lusting over the woman since the first day in the gym. A squeeze of her waist brought Brittany back to the present, and she gasped out, "Sunday."
Brittany felt the brunette's moves falter against her for a long moment, before returning to their previous smoothness. Did Santana realize that was the last time they ran into one another? Did she know how aggravated she'd gotten the blonde? Does she feel guilty? The brunette said nothing, merely inched herself closer, palms sliding to lay flat on Brittany's stomach, keeping her in place.
The blonde automatically rested her hands over them, then let her fingertips tickle along Santana's wrists and bare forearms. Brittany felt the way tan fingers dug slightly into her skin and hummed. She felt more buzzed dancing like this with Santana―strong hips fitted against the curve of her ass, supple breasts firmly against her shoulder blades, hands burning through the cloth of her shirt―than she had felt while kissing Quinn. It made Brittany realize just how strong her attraction to the Latina was.
She closed her eyes and tilted her head back, letting herself move against Santana sensually, nails scratching along her arms and ass grinding. She could feel the labored breaths hitting the shell of her ear, and it excited her to know that Santana was enjoying the dance, even just a little. It gave her the confidence to spin around and directly face the woman, who was wearing a delightfully surprised look at the movement.
Brittany grinned wolfishly, her palms resting against Santana's collarbones, and then dipped her body down low, legs spreading lewdly as she bounced twice before propelling herself back up Santana's body, hands wandering. The movement hurt slightly and it showed in the crinkles at the corner of her eyes. Santana's face flashed with something too quick for Brittany to read, before Brittany's hands were gripped by the wrists and Santana's body was peeled from her own.
"You should get back to your date," the brunette said, tone cool and calm. Dark eyes scanned her face before Santana added, "And stop with the pout."
Brittany hadn't realized she'd been pouting, her eyebrows quickly rose to her hairline to show her surprise and she schooled her lips into a thin line. Their eyes were locked intently. "If you want me to leave so bad, let go of my wrists," was the blonde's soft reply.
Santana dropped them like she had been burned, quickly clearing her throat and glancing back towards the bar. Brittany sighed and rolled her eyes, brushing past the woman to return to their friends. Brittany certainly had done less on the dance floor with Santana than Quinn, but her experience with the brunette was far more exciting nonetheless.
Quinn saw her blonde coming back from over Rachel's shoulder and grinned widely. Brittany could only feel guilty at the excitement in those hazel eyes. She came up to their side and rested a hand on Rachel's lower shoulder. As Quinn turned to order a drink for her, Brittany reached out to place a hand on her forearm, eyes pleading, "Can we leave?"
She watched as hazel eyes darted somewhere past her, narrowed then returned to her face only to soften as she nodded. Brittany offered a sheepish smile to Rachel, apologizing as she hugged her goodbye. When Quinn gave her hug, she pulled back and waved her hand around, saying, "Tell San we left."
"Of course Quinn, I hope to see you both soon. And if I don't see you, good luck with your surgery Brittany."
"Thanks Rach," the blonde smiled, hugging her friend a second time before leaving with Quinn.
They decided to walk a ways, burn off some of the buzz from the alcohol. It was a few blocks later that the awkward silence was finally broken. "So, what did Santana do to make you angry enough to leave?" Brittany turned to her with a shocked expression. "I saw you two dancing, I'm only guessing," she smirked.
Brittany giggled softly, shaking her head. Quinn prompted her silently by linking their arms together and pulling the blonde a little closer. Brittany gave a shrug, "She didn't do anything, actually, my knee was starting to bother me."
Quinn hummed lightly, before drawling, "Yeah, I can see why with those outrageously fine moves of yours," looking sideways at her date.
Brittany flushed under her stare and turned her head away, "You saw that huh?"
She nodded as Brittany peeked from the corner of her eye. "Don't feel bad Britt. With how much you wanted to know about Santana during our coffee dates, as innocent as it may have seemed, I saw right through your white lies. You've been infatuated with her since your first day at the gym, I know that. I was just sort of hoping you'd forget about her long enough try and have a little fun with me instead." Quinn's smirk was positively perverse and Brittany balked at her forwardness.
Silence passed between before Brittany let out a guffaw of laughter and pushed the other woman. Quinn joined, laughing deep from her belly and sounding joyous, before taking the blonde's arm again. Quinn was a great friend. "Come over to my place?" The blonde requested between giggles.
The pink-haired beauty waggled her eyebrows suggestively and Brittany scoffed, laying her head on her shoulder. "Not for that, pervert." Quinn laughed deeply. "It's still early and we should hang out."
"Break out a bottle of wine and I don't see a problem with it. Now that I've gotten you to confess about Santana, and you've denied sleeping with me, I can tell you all these embarrassing stories about her."
Brittany merely rolled her eyes, "You've already told me embarrassing things about her, over coffee."
"That wasn't even half of it, Britt," she said with a wide smile. "C'mon, let's go," she stepped up to the curb, hailing a taxi.
The next morning Brittany woke up less than her usual peppy self, thanks to the incessant pounding in her head. She grumbled and flopped over, avoiding the sun streaming through her window. The motion had her stomach rolling uncomfortably and she winced, curling in on herself, only for her knees to brush against something soft and warm. Cracking her eyes slowly open she caught sight of bare legs, a tangled sheet, bare shoulders and disheveled pink hair.
"Oh dear Lord," she choked out, flinging herself off the bed as the sight caused her stomach to clench painfully. She made it to the toilet before spilling the entire contents of her stomach. Whining pitifully she flushed the toilet, resting her head against the cool tile of her bathroom wall, thinking, What happened last night?
That's the end to this chapter. What do you think happened?