"I don't think this was a good idea..." Quinn muttered as Rachel continued to suck on her neck. Rachel barely heard her over the blasting music and the scores of teenagers bustling around in Puck's house. The two stood in the corner of the room, thinking that offered a small fraction of privacy.
"This wasn't?" Rachel asked removing her mouth, but only by an inch.
"No, not this," Quinn answered rolling her eyes as Rachel repositioned her mouth. "Bringing Casey." Quinn wasn't very concentrated on Rachel- she was spectating her sister sitting on the couch with Puck, adjusting her head whenever a Lima Loser got in the way of her view. To be honest, Rachel wasn't really paying attention to Quinn's words. At all. All Rachel wanted to do was get out of this party, and into the privacy of either girls' bedrooms, but Rachel put up with parties, because something about them, for some reason that was obscure to Rachel, made Quinn light up, but tonight this wasn't the case. Quinn wanted to be focusing on Rachel, she wanted to get submerged in the hot kisses Rachel was placing all over, to feel the brunette's hands hovering just above the hot skin of her stomach, but if something happened to the young Fabray, it would be Quinn who was punished, and that didn't ease Quinn in the slightest.
"Oh don't worry," Rachel halfheartedly mumbled into the blonde's neck. "Puck's looking after her."
"Puck doesn't know how to look after her. He's not responsible in the slightest." Quinn clenched her jaw. "I mean, if we'd have kept Beth-" Quinn began, but felt Rachel hesitate her mouth's movement. Rachel didn't say anything to the blonde, but of course she never really enjoyed speaking about Quinn and Puck's baby. She couldn't stop herself from fearing the possibility of her girlfriend leaving her, for her baby's father, no matter how much assurance given from the blonde girl.
"It doesn't take that much responsibility, Quinn." Rachel finally lifted her head to look into the Cheerio's hazel eyes. "He cares about her. They're friends... and... and she can look after herself." Rachel whispered, close enough so her voice wasn't drowned out by the music. Quinn knew for a fact that Puck cared for Casey. When he and the head Cheerio were dating, Quinn was almost a little jealous of the relationship they shared- but Quinn would never admit that.
"I... okay." Rachel kissed her lips and nodded, lowering her head to resume the in-progress-hickey. "But if she gets drunk and cuts a bitch it'll be your fault.
"Mmm," Rachel smiled brightly into her girlfriend. "You want to go outside?" She whispered in her girlfriend's ear, hoping it would get the blonde's mind off of her sister.
"...sure..." Quinn finally agreed.
"Whatever," Casey crossed her arms and removed her eyes off of Puck. The two sat alone on the couch, partygoers stumbling drunkly around them as the music blasted loudly.
"Come on, don't be mad." Puck tried.
"I'm not mad." She said shortly, but she did not place her eyes back on the boy.
"Look, if I'd invited you, your sister would've flipped a shit and punched me." He reasoned. "And... she's scary sometimes."
"On a scale from one to I don't care, I don't care." Casey shook her head, pursing her lips.
"That... doesn't make sense... You are such a drama queen!" Puck slouched back into the cushion of the chair, "But, hey, did you come here to be mad at me, or did you come here to have fun?" Puck knew the girl couldn't be mad at him for too long, and so did she, and she placed her eyes back on the senior boy.
"What if I came here for another reason?" Casey quickly he glanced to his side to see Brittany, up against the far wall, drink in her hand, as Santana got extra close. Puck turned on his couch to look at Casey's object of focus.
"No." He quickly said, turning back.
"What?" Casey kept on staring.
"No. Not Brittany." Puck shook her back. "Not her."
"Oh, Noah, don't tell me you like her..."
"Of course not." He almost laughed at the idea. "And you can't either."
"Who says I do?" Puck gave her an "are you kidding me?" glance. "...Well why not?"
"Casey, if you want to survive in high school, you cannot screw with Santana Lopez." Casey's eyes wandered back to Brittany. "Meaning... you can't steal her tater-tots. You can't take her Glee solos... You can't hit on her girl." Casey's eyes shot at Puck.
"Brittany... an-and Santana are dating?" Casey bewilderedly whispered, her jaw opening. Of all the times Brittany and Santana had stayed in the Fabray house, she never figured Quinn was the third wheel, or what they'd be doing after Quinn fell asleep...
"Well... no... not exactly" Puck attempted explanation of the Cheerios' relationship... "They're together... I guess... for lack of a better term."
"Oh, well..." Casey paused and opened up her mouth to speak, then closed it once before finally saying- "But... but you and Santana have sex... pretty often." It was almost a question, because there was something about this scenario Casey just couldn't grasp.
"Yeah... Well, that's where they're lacking... They aren't official." Puck wasn't really sure of their situation himself. "There's a lot of sex... that goes on... not between the two of them... not that there isn't a lot of sex that goes on between the two of them..." Puck raised his eyebrow in pleasure, thinking to himself about sex between the girls. Casey pushed his shoulder, giving a grossed look, tethering him back to reality. "All I know is that Santana is Brittany's... and Brittany is Santana's. Santana may not admit it but... everyone knows."
"How come I didn't?" Casey couldn't help but feel a little stupid. Here she was, trying to find Brittany in the halls, looking forward to the afternoon car rides because Brittany was apart of them, and Brittany was with someone else. "I mean, having Quinn as an older sister, I pretty much knew everything about the high school even when I wasn't apart of it."
"I'm sorry, Fabro," Puck hesitantly placed a comforting hand on the girls back. If it had been any other girl, Puck would've noticed he could see Casey's blue bra from underneath her white tee shirt. "Why don't we get you some hotter, closer in age gay meat, huh?" He then removed his hand and scanned the room.
"Maybe some other night..." Casey moped. She didn't want to feel bad, she barely knew Brittany. How had she fell so hard for someone she could count on one hand the times she'd talked to?
"Say, shouldn't you and Santana be having sex right about now?" Casey inquired, taking it upon herself to change the subject.
"We should..." Puck bit on the inside of his cheek, "But for some reason we aren't. Shall I peel her away from Brittany?" At hearing that small detail, Casey's eyes brightened filled with possibility that Puck could see.
"No. No, no, no, no, no." Puck shook his head. "You are not using mine and Santana's whore time to hook up with Brittany." But the excitement was still in her eyes. "When we get back you better still be a virgin. And if I find out you aren't- I will let Santana go bloody massacre on your ass." Puck got up, hoping he got through to the blonde.
Casey watched as Puck made his way to the far wall where the two girls were standing. He tapped Santana's shoulder, and as she turned from Brittany. There was a note of displeasure on her face, before she nodded and left with Puck up the stairs. Brittany stood there, looking displaced, unsure what to do with herself, until her eyes met with Casey's and she smiled and bounced happily to the couch, where she plopped herself next to the other blonde, careful not to spill her red cup full of what Casey assumed to be alcohol.
"Hi!" She exclaimed, smiling ear to ear.
"Hey." Casey felt a lump form in her throat, and her cheeks redden, unsure what to say to the other girl. An uncomfortable silence grew over the two as they fake listened to the music playing around them.
"I'm a tad drunk!" Brittany exclaimed, breaking the silence.
"Is that so?" Casey asked sarcastically, but playfully.
"Yes! Very drunk actually!" A few seconds passed again.
"Do you want to go outside?" Casey asked, voice being drowned out by the music.
"What?" Brittany asked loudly.
"Do you want to go outside?" She asked louder, straining her voice, and Brittany vigorously nodded, jumping up and taking Casey's hand. She led her outside to the patio, where Casey had never been before. The two sat down, cross legged, facing each other. For a quick moment, Casey was sure she heard something, but decided it was probably just one of those rabid dogs Puck set free when he got tired of them.
To the side of Puck's rather large house, Rachel and Quinn groped and searched each others bodies. To each pair of girls outside, both were unaware of the others' close presence.
Rachel placed intense kisses on Quinn's willing chest. Here, in the darkness, with Rachel, Quinn whole-heartedly focused on the brunette's ever-so-light and considerate kisses. Drowning cooperatively in every touch and every brush her girlfriend laid on her.
That is until she heard something.
"What's that?" Quinn asked Rachel, eyes immediately jolting open.
"Nothing," Rachel uninterestedly murmured.
"Rachel," Quinn shrugged the smaller girl off her neck, hearing voices, hearing laughter. "What if something's wrong?"
"Nothing's wrong," Rachel, annoyed, said rolling her eyes, trying to close the space in between the two. "It's probably just two people about to do what... what we are not succeeding at doing."
Rachel touched her lips lightly to the blonde's neck, cautiously, and when the other girl didn't protest Rachel closed her eyes, wrapping her arms around the girl's waist.
"M-maybe I should just check," Quinn suggested, releasing herself from Rachel's grasp and moving to the edge of the house. Rachel groaned, unamused when the Cheerio peered over the side of Puck's home. Seeing the sight of Brittany and her little sister, sitting on the patio, Brittany uncontrollably laughing, Quinn's mouth drops open.
Rachel peered over behind her girlfriend.
"So...?" The diva asked.
"Are you seeing what I'm seeing?" She spun around, against the wood of the house.
"I simply see two mature individuals passing time with each other." The brunette simply stated.
"No no no no NO. This isn't okay." Quinn runs her hand through her hair, eyes widening. "They're going to start dating, aren't they? They're going to have sex and Santana's going to murder my little sister! B-brittany is going to screw my little sister!"
"Shh, shh." Rachel knits her eyebrows together, taking Quinn's hands and squeezing them comfortingly. "Nothing is going on. They're in Glee together. They're friends." Although the shorter girl is more than happy to comfort her blonde, the only thought running through her mind is that she isn't getting laid. "Like... like she was... is with Puck."
"But they aren't!" Quinn sighed, spinning, looking past the edge again, inspecting the blondes. "Puck was an exception. They're... they're like weird Lezbros or something. But I know my sister, and that look in her her eyes- I can't believe she's trying this. Look!"
"Look what?" Rachel sighs.
"Look at their body language," She points. "Ugh! They're giving each other niceys!" Quinn all but shouted.
"What the fuck are niceys?" Rachel inquires.
"Niceys are when you... you know-" Quinn sputtered.
"I do not." The brunette hoped if she could distract the other girl for long enough, she might be able to continue what they had been attempting to do all evening.
"They're what they're doing right now!" Quinn gestures, and Brittany is running her fingertips ever-so-lightly across Casey's forearms as she grins. "It's practically foreplay!"
Rachel unfortunately had the idea that she wasn't getting what she wanted tonight.
Santana exited Puck's room upstairs, dissatisfied. She fixed her t-shirt, and a grim look sat on her face as she galloped downstairs. She all but rammed through partygoers in her way, looking for her blonde, who she expected would be waiting for her, waiting to actually grant the Latina some satisfaction tonight.
But she wasn't.
Santana couldn't find anyone. Not Brittany, not Quinn, not even annoying Rachel Berry. She dug through pretty much every room in Puck's home, music virtually obliterating her eardrums. She swam through a sea of drunk girls, laughing obnoxiously and making out with anything they could their hands on, it pleased Santana that Brittany hadn't been swallowed by that particular group of students.
Exhausted, Santana gave up. She was pissed. Everyone was used to her routine at a party: have a beer, sleep with Puck, have another beer. What made tonight any different?
'Mother fucking whores' Santana thought, opting to get a glass of water, to calm her down, before planning to go find Puck in his whore house, for another round. It's not as if she had anything better to do.
As she ran the faucet, her eyes looked up out the window, onto the patio.
That was when Santana lost it.
There was Brittany, with that freshman, gaping like adolescent lovers which it was blatant to Santana that they were. As far as Santana thought, the two might as well have been fucking right then and there.
Santana only stopped staring when she heard glass shatter, and blindly reached down in the sink for pieces, only to ignore sharp pains and blood trickling down multiple fingers.
Hand gashed, face still showing aftershocks of disbelief, Santana spotted Jewfro making his way through the packed room, having even more difficulty than Santana did, especially because he was holding a beer filled cup.
Santana didn't wait for Jewfro to pass, she took a few steps toward him, and grabbed the beer. She chugged it without consent from the boy, while complete fear swallowed his face.
"Get me another, Jewfro." Santana demanded as he fearfully nodded. He quickly stumbled back with another beer. Santana downed it too. "Another."
By the time Brittany and Casey found their way back inside, it wasn't more than a few seconds before Quinn, unwillingly followed by Rachel, mildly stalked them to the inside of the house.
"Where did you come from?" Casey asked loudly, noticing her sister slide in the door behind her.
"Oh, just outside." Her sister replied, a trace of guilt on her face. Brittany remained unaware of the other girl's presence, or if she was, she was much too busy looking for someone, or something, in the crowd, standing on her tippy-toes.
"What were you doing?"
"Nothing, actually." Rachel cut-in bitterly, glaring toward her girlfriend. "Nothing at all."
"Has anybody seen Santana?" Brittany finally turned and asked, unconcerned with the added presence of both girls.
"No, not all night," Rachel loudly declares over the blasting music.
"Did you ask Puck?" Quinn adds with equal loudness.
Without a farewell, Brittany pushed her way through the population, looking for Puck. Casey wordlessly followed her, a tad more difficulty than the other girl had, but it wasn't long before Brittany stopped in her tracks, Casey a few steps behind.
It almost made Brittany sick to see Santana, drunk, falling over every mass in the room. Scrutinizing Santana, weak, unstable, drunk, sobered Brittany in a way. It made her feel unsafe and worried, so she had absolutely no patience for any nonsense, quickly electing the best way to get Santana out of this ridiculous house.
"Santana," Brittany quickly trotted over to the dark haired girl, who had something sticky in her hair that Brittany had no desire to identify. Santana slouched on a dark brown piano bench, despite the fact that Brittany was pretty sure Puck didn't even own a piano, some girl sitting on her lap who was even more drunk than the Latina.
Santana barely even noticed the blonde gliding toward her, furrowed brow, distressed face, until the Cheerio knocked the girl rather savagely off of the intoxicated girl's lap. "Come on, San," Brittany uttered gently in Santana's ear, carefully placing a hand on her shoulder. "Let me drive you home." Even with Santana's now polluted brain, Brittany's soft voice and breath on her skin still sent shivers down Santana's spine. But drunk-Santana was much too stubborn and angry to let Brittany prevail so easily.
"Don't touch me," Santana spat halfheartedly, shrugging Brittany off of her.
"San, what's wrong?" Brittany looked so lost. Santana had never, never spoken to her so coldly. Santana quickly rose, drunkenly spilling plastic cups of beer at her feet.
"Nothing. Nothing at all Britt." Santana hissed, feeling her insides gently combust when the blonde's face drop. But Brittany knew Santana. Every movement, every expression, Brittany analyzed and understood. Maybe the child-hearted girl didn't follow everything that was being said around her, not right away at least, but if she had the chance to decipher every gesture, every action that flowed through the enraged Cheerio's body, Brittany Pierce would do it flawlessly, and without hesitation.
"Santana your hand," Brittany kindly took off her scarf (the one Santana had instructed her not to bring, since it had been 90 degrees outside that morning) and wrapping it around her friends hand.
"I don't want it, Britt." Santana looked down, tossing that scarf back at the girl.
"You aren't yourself," Brittany weakly murmured, taking the darker girl's hands, attempting to drag her out of the house. "Just let me drive you home. Please."
"Why don't you just drive your new girlfriend home?" Santana all but shouted, gesturing to the blonde who had been choosing to stay out of the confrontation that had been occurring between the two seniors. Rachel and Quinn had finally caught up to the girls, shuffling through a packed living room. Puck had caught wind of the situation, and threatened JewFro that he would murder everyone the boy loved unless he turned the loud rapping of Ludacris off. Eyes were suddenly on her, causing Casey's face to flush as Brittany sent her a quick glance, but then looked down fast. Not fast enough, of course- not fast enough for Santana's impaired eyes to catch the look. "Ha!" She let out a sharp laugh. "So you aren't denying it!"
"No... No, Santana." Brittany tried to reason, "You're drunk, and... and I just want-"
"You want FabGays hands all over you! That little dy-"
"Hey!" From each pair of eyes watching the scene, it took a second for anyone to identify who's voice had obtruded the intensity. Quinn stepped into the steel ring that had been exclusive to the infuriated girls. "Santana," Quinn hissed through her teeth, Santana's blurred eyes finally focusing on her friend. "I put up with a unholy amount of your shit, okay? You may have fucked me up more than anyone who's ever dared to come too close to you, besides Brittany of course, who by the way you are just shitting on right now," Quinn got uncomfortably close to the Latina who remained dead-still. "You can screw me over, Lopez, but Casey is my sister. I hate her almost every second of every day, but if you ever try to call her the dyke ever again, you will become painfully friendly with a grape slushie." Quinn turned on her heel, nodding toward Casey to signal it was time for them to go, taking Rachel's hand and leading her back into the abyss, heading toward the door.
Santana just stood there as she observed a single tear roll off the edge of Brittany's cheek. A single, hollow sob, escaped Brittany's mouth, as she turned and left the house as well. The eyes that had been watching all of them, soon became bored and turned back to their conversations. Santana felt Puck's arms catch her as she fell backward, the vision of the party blurring and meshing until her eyes rolled back, blind.