Title: Locksmith
Rating: NC-17
Word Count: 9.7k
Summary: Even now, after ten years together, you still aren't in the right place and it's like you can never fit right together for too long before one of you shifts and it happens again.
Notes: Glad you're enjoying the flashbacks! I actually really like writing them... Anyway, hope you enjoy this ;)
/
You stare at Elaine for a little too long before stepping aside and allowing her in.
She doesn't smile at you, just lets her eyes linger hesitantly as she brushes past, far enough away that you don't touch and for that you're glad. You're not only super sweaty still, but you don't want to make this harder than it is and you already didn't leave the last conversation on a good note. Quinn busted in, and as nice as it was at the time – it stopped you from blurting out the truth – you kind of wish she hadn't so you didn't need to do this again. Instead of ripping off the Band-Aid, you're peeling it off painfully slowly.
"So," Elaine starts, pausing in the middle of your apartment but not moving to take a seat as she turns to face you, expression void of emotion.
You don't offer either, not wanting her to feel like she has to sit down, perhaps because it might give her the expectation that you're about to tell her everything is great between you is good and you'll have make-up sex on the couch. She's already looking at you like she knows that's far away from what's about to happen though and you'll admit, it's kind of helping. Not helping the guilt minimise in your chest, but it's helping that you don't have to let her down again because you're already mostly broken up. This is just to make sure she knows that and knows it isn't because of Brittany and to finalise the ending, as harsh as it may seem.
"El, I just wanna start by saying–"
"Are we done?" She interrupts, obviously not wanting to beat around the bush and you wince at the hardness of her tone. You have kept her waiting for almost three days now. She flicks her hair over her shoulder and presses her lips together, waiting expectantly but if she wants to do it like this – with no softness – then you'll do it. You owe her that at least.
"Yeah," you exhale in one swift breath, sucking your lips into your mouth and toying with the bracelet dangling on your wrist, and she doesn't flinch, just lifts her chin into the air, narrowing her eyes at you, but you feel the need to explain it more. You don't want her to think it was a spur of the moment reaction after being with Brittany and Lucas at the hospital, and you certainly don't want her blaming your ex for this either.
You're doing this because Beth managed to talk some sense into you, and you've spent the past couple days thinking about your own personal growth and development and this is part of it. This is the next step in your programme to better yourself and the running obviously was a good tip from those YouTube health gurus because it meant you ran into the teenage Fabray again and it pretty much solidified what you were going to do next after your chat. That kid sure is wise.
"But I want you to know," you begin and swallow thickly, seeing tears forming in the eyes staring back at you, but you owe her the truth. "This decision wasn't easy, and I didn't lie to you about why," you explain and take a step forward, lifting a shoulder at her and trying to convey as much honesty as possible. "Brittany and I aren't getting back together, and I do like you, but I know I would be lying to you if I said I was over her," you breathe and Elaine does flinch this time, jaw clenching as she lets the words sink in. "It's just not fair and I need to deal with that."
She studies you for a long time, nostrils flaring, and you can see her wanting to fight, but there'd be no point, and you think she knows that. So, you just brace yourself, your eyebrows pulling together the longer you gaze at her, and she shakes her head eventually, showing the disappointment you expected and folds her arms over her chest, turning her face away for two seconds to wipe at her eyes.
"You could've told me about your feelings, you know," she gets out, inhaling shakily as she meets your eye again. "I would've understood, and we could've gone at a slower pace."
Your eyes drop, the need to tell her that it's not about the timing surging through you, but if she's understanding what you're saying like that, then it'll be less brutal.
"I know," you nod. "And I should've told you, but I thought I was over her and I'm just... not," you shrug, because that's the simplest part of all of this. There's no point in denying it anymore. "And I realised I need to change, before I can be with anyone."
She chokes out a snort through the small number of tears falling, and you jerk your head back. "Ah, the whole 'it's not you, it's me' excuse," she hisses, and you can see and hear she's angry, but the tears are still spilling, and you hate that you're hurting her. "Don't give me that, Santana."
"I'm not giving you anything, El," you try, stepping forward and holding out your hands but she steps backwards instantly, a single finger pointing out to halt your movement.
"Don't come towards me, and don't try to make me feel better," she entreats, and you swallow against a thickened throat, rejection pulsing through you. You don't know how to make this better. "I just want to leave, if you've said everything you need to say."
You clench your jaw, giving a hardened expression and you want to continue and explain it more. You want her to understand. You want to tell her that you've always loved Brittany and you feel really fucking bad that you put her through all of this, but you don't regret it. Not because you got to spend time with her and inevitably break her heart, but because it was the jump into the unknown (with her) that propelled you to become who you used to be, someone to be proud of and she helped you and you're grateful for that.
You feel like you're somebody again.
(Somebody who Brittany loves again.)
(Somebody who you love again.)
But you don't think she'll want to hear that. You think that's why she accused you of using her the last time you had this conversation and after everything, you think enough damage has been done, so you offer her a stern nod and do as you're told. You won't try to make her feel better because you can't. So, you just step aside, sweeping your hand forward towards the front door. She stares at you for a long minute, and the indecision of whether to continue the conversation is clear but she walks towards the exit anyway, pausing at the door and peering over her shoulder.
"I hope you find the happiness you're pretending to have," she whispers, holding your eyes for another two seconds before sweeping out and leaving you alone.
It's only when the door clicks that you let the tears, you didn't know were there, fall as the words replay over and over again in your mind.
/
Break-ups are never easy.
No matter why they happen.
You weren't lying when you told Elaine that you liked her, and you're glad that you managed to swallow down the truth again without Quinn's interruption, because after five long minutes of sobbing quietly to yourself in your apartment, you feel the freedom of the breakup sink in. The pressure on your chest lifts, and you wipe away the tears, staring at yourself in the mirror by the front door and give yourself a nod, knowing that step two is now complete and you're even closer to the end, even though you haven't exactly planned out how many more steps there are on this road to recovery.
Elaine was collateral damage, and even though you regret hurting her the way you did, it's all for the best. You can now go to Vegas without worrying. You can now talk to Brittany without always feeling like there's a pair of eyes on you. You can now find the happiness that Elaine told you, you were pretending to have, because you think that, ultimately, you know where that happiness is. You think you always have known.
But first, before you can even think of step number three, you've gotta shower.
You take in a deep, shaky breath and turn, heading down the hallway to the bathroom but you don't get to it before you hear a few raps on the front door and stop moving. Elaine just left, and the last thing you want is for her to come back and continue the conversation because you're done now. You don't think you could apologise anymore, and you don't want to intensify the pain because it just needs to simmer now and sink n.
But still, you owe it to her if she's the one knocking, and after only a moment, go back to where you wear and suck in a deep breath as you reach for the handle, swinging open the front door, ready to greet Elaine.
"Oh," leaves your mouth when your eyes fall to the person on the other side of the door because it's definitely not the person you were expecting.
It's Brittany.
"Hi," she breathes, blue eyes shifting behind you as she rocks on to the balls of her feet and you can tell she's nervous by the way she's clutching to the bottom of her grey sweatshirt and chewing on her bottom lip.
Disbelief floods your body, and for a second, wonder where your phone is because there's no way she'd just turn up at your door, especially considering the last conversation you two had didn't involve updates on anything other than your son, and you stand there with your mouth open, brown eyes flitting over the blondes face. She stares back hesitantly, looking like she doesn't know what to say or really why she's here, but you don't either. She's come to your place, not vice versa, and Elaine just left, and the part of you that was debating your cell phone's whereabouts, has redirected to panicking over whether your exes ran into each other in the lobby.
But when Brittany gives you an unsure smile, you realise that she wouldn't be smiling if they had, so you're going to throw that question away and replace it with another one.
"What are you doing here?" You ask, voice hoarse and you hate the way your body feels like it's alive now she's stood in front of you.
For two days, you've been planning not to talk to Brittany until you felt ready but now she's here, you think that was dumb. You're always ready to see her and you wait for the answer to your question, feeling your breaths shallow and mouth dry the longer you look at her. Why is she here though?
"I tried calling and texting you, but you didn't reply," she explains, and it's weak because you had your phone on you up until half an hour ago, so if Brittany's been wondering where you've been, it's only been in the very recent past so you're not buying it.
"Is Lucas okay?" You follow up with, mind suddenly panicking when you notice the lack of your son with the blonde. It was literally three days ago that you didn't have your phone on you (again) and missed Brittany's attempted calls to tell you that Lucas had fallen over and was headed to hospital, and you make a mental note to glue your phone to your hand if it means no more surprises. There's only so many a girl can take, and they always seem to end up with you getting into sticky situations.
Like the time Quinn stole your phone and invited Elaine to your birthday party without your knowledge. You really need to hang on to that thing more.
"He's fine, he's okay," Brittany hurries out, obviously realising your sudden shift in body language and shakes her head, exhaling whilst trying to smile at you but she's radiating nerves. "Quinn and I dropped him to school," she stutters out and your mind connects the dots when she lifts a shoulder at you in a half-shrug, like she's apologising silently for something. It was only a matter of hours ago you were talking to Quinn 2.0 and you're guessing that the conversation you two shared was also shared with her mom when she got home, who happened to be in the company of the blonde in front of you and that's why she's here. That damn teenager and her big ass mouth.
"Beth told me you quit your job yesterday, and I wanted to come check in on you, seeing as you've been avoiding any other topic other than our son when I've text you."
Your eyes flash to her, hearing a dig somewhere in her words but she doesn't look pissed, and you know instantly it was more of a friendly reminder that she knows you better than you know yourself. There's no point in trying to lie to her, but you really weren't expecting her to turn up at your door so you feel unprepared. Which, in hindsight, was also stupid because you never ghost and so disappearing for two days was always going to make her wonder where the hell you've been.
Beth even asked that question, so no chance that Brittany wasn't thinking the same thing.
"Yeah," you answer through a breath, clearing your throat and looking around the hallway before returning to blue eyes. "Sorry about that," you say, dropping your chin to your chest, eyes focused on the ground. You don't want her to read your face too much; you've just been crying. "Just been dealing with stuff."
Brittany narrows her eyes at you and slides past, moving into your apartment without invitation and spinning around to face you, folding her arms and tilting he head to the side. "You wanna talk?"
You don't answer for a long moment, feeling like it's too weird to talk to her because you'll have to explain that you've broken up with Elaine, and having not prepared for her presence, you know you're not in the right state of mind to be discussing that part of your life with Brittany right now. You're yet to have your best friend chat with Quinn, which you think might have been step three but you guess you're going to have to skip that one now that Brittany's here.
And it's not like she isn't your best friend, too. Yeah, you were in a relationship, but one of the things that made you so strong (at the time) was that it wasn't just that. You had this foundation of being best friends for three years before getting together and so it wouldn't be too weird to talk out your emotions with her, just as long as you avoid the topics that'll drag you into venturing down other roads.
So, knowing you can't ever say no to her, you suck in your lips and slowly nod, closing the front door behind you.
/
Talking to Brittany has always been so easy, so you shouldn't be shocked when you make a cup of coffee for the both of you and then lean on opposite sides of the kitchen, resting your butts against the counters and begin speaking comfortably and openly, like you used to before you got together. She asks you what you've been doing in the past couple days, and you find it easier to tell her than you think, and she laughs when you tell her how many self-help videos you watched on YouTube last night. You ask about Lucas and whether he enjoyed telling his school mates how he got his stitches, and Brittany says he did and is milking it for extra treats like pancakes for breakfast and ice cream after school.
But then you get to the Elaine portion of things somehow, and Brittany stops taking the sip of coffee and freezes, eyes flitting over the lip of the porcelain object to meet yours when you mention the woman's name.
"Elaine came over earlier, too," you say, finding the words hard to say because you feel like telling her is a big thing.
But you don't want a big reaction. You still aren't prepared, even if you're both now perched on the kitchen counters, still opposite ends of the kitchen but legs dangling over the edge like teenagers, with a good distance between you. You've somehow slipped into the friendship mode that's always remained, and that's been nice up until now, but you can feel a different atmosphere creeping in and you don't really know how you ended up talking about Elaine, because a second ago you were talking about everything other than that. Avoiding it, if anything, but you've said it now and can't take it back.
Fuck. You're an idiot.
"How are you two?" Brittany asks, quietly and carefully, the words muffled behind the mug that's still in front of her mouth, and she finishes taking her sip, dropping it to the side and tilting her head towards you, waiting for the answer. If you didn't know her so damn well, you probably wouldn't notice the slight flash behind her eyes, telling you that she doesn't really want to know but it's an appropriate thing to ask if you're friends. Quinn would ask, and so would Beth, and even Kurt freaking Hummel would pry seeing as the last time he saw you, you were at Quinn's birthday party with Elaine and he asked then how things were.
But you see it, and almost feel excitement when you think that Elaine isn't an issue anymore, even if that'll only lead to bad things and you need to not let your mind wander down that avenue.
Especially as you're still wearing your running clothes from earlier and haven't taken that shower you were supposed to. You're still covered in sweat.
"We, erm–" You shift, feeling a little awkward and drop your eyes to the coffee stains inside your mug, not wanting to look her in the eye when you tell her this. Your heart is now hammering inside your chest, pulse throbbing in your neck to the point where it's pounding in your ears but you need to hide that. This is so not a big deal. "We broke up," you whisper finally, and ignore the way your stomach leaps when Brittany's head snaps up, eyes wide.
"What?"
You swallow thickly and take a deep breath as you finally meet blue eyes. "We broke up," you repeat, firmer this time, taking a sip of your coffee and she leans forward, setting her coffee down, hands grabbing on to the edge of the kitchen counter she's sat on. She leans forward, her face twisted with confusion and you think she's checking she heard right, which you get. If she told you something about Carl, you'd be really fucking alert so you get the reaction.
"You broke up?" She repeats, but her tone is harder than usual and you can't read her face. But you can feel the silence ringing in your ears, mixed amongst the noise of the traffic outside the kitchen window, but you've said it now and you won't take it back, even if you need to try and not make this like, a thing. You just broke up with Elaine. You're not saying anything else and the way Brittany's gazing at you, makes you feel like you just said something completely different.
(You think somewhere deep inside your mind, you are.)
(But you're not at that step of your recovery process yet.)
"Yup," you pop the 'p' and set your coffee down, knowing that the only safe way out of this, to make sure it's not blown up into a mountain when it's just a molehill and you need a way out of this. Due to being in your running clothes, you choose that as a decent avenue as it's way off topic and pluck at the front of your top, which clings tightly to your abs, laughing awkwardly as you hop off the counter. "I've gotta shower though," you say, glancing down to the fabric and make a point not to look at Brittany as you grab your coffee mug and head over to her, reaching for her one now so you can drop it into the sink.
But, really, you should've known that being within touching distance of her was going to be a bad move, and freeze when her hand snaps out to yours, fingers curling around your forearm to earn your attention and you're only about a foot away from her, but it seems like considerably less when you look up and she's staring down at you, face softer than a second ago, like she's processed the news you just gave her. The breath hitches in your throat though, and you're screaming at yourself to move when she narrows those damn blue eyes at you because she's doing that thing where she's reading your mind.
Except when she speaks, you're shocked because it's nowhere near along the lines of what you considered her to say if she was using that superpower.
"Why are you wearing running gear?"
Okay, not what you were expecting, but she isn't lingering on the Elaine thing and you can handle it.
Except wen you told her about the YouTube videos, you only mentioned the meditation side of things because if you'd mentioned running, it could've led you to explaining that you'd seen Beth and Brittany would've asked what you spoke about and why you were running again and the answer is her. You were trying to run away from the memories, but everything reminded you of her. Like the ducks in the pond, or the blue in the sky that matches her eyes, or when Beth when she asked you what your plans were with Brittany and you had no answer as those are still very much up in the air.
You've always run to clear your mind. When she left for London, you ran for miles and miles on end, just so you could fall asleep.
But now you're in a situation you should've avoided, even if she's not asking you the things you thought she was going to after telling her that you and Elaine had broken up.
"Those YouTube videos said that running would help me clear my mind so I thought I'd take up an old hobby," you answer, trying to seem chill as anything, and it's not a lie, but it's a hell of a lot easier than admitting that you were trying to run away from your thoughts of her. You throw in a shrug, forcing yourself to step back and out of her reach, taking the coffee cups to the sink like you originally planned.
Now, you've got your back to her and take advantage of her not being able to see you properly to let your façade fall, exhaling through pursed lips in relief that you got away from that situation because you were nearly pulled in then, and there isn't really any reason why crossing a line is a problem now. Apart from the fact you're not ready and you don't want to dive headfirst into the best thing you ever had in fear you'll mess it up again. You want to make sure you're a better person now, for yourself, for Lucas and for her, and you're not sure you're just there yet.
"You always loved running, even though you always used to get super sweaty," Brittany observes, and you hear her voice getting closer as she hops down from the counter, but not towards you, instead choosing residence on the counter directly behind you, but there's considerably less distance between you now and you can feel the back of your neck and your cheeks getting hot. If you turn around, you're going to be closer than you want to be – temptation is the devil, after all – and so you literally sidestep out, pretending to put away some of the items on the counter into the overhead cupboards to busy yourself as you reply.
"Yeah, just thought it'd be nice to get back into it," you say, reminding her of when you first met and she asked to go running with you. It was one of the first things you ever did alone together, and she was super into athleticism and you fancied the hell out of her in running clothes, which is one of the reasons why you stopped. It got to the point where you were barely making eye contact with her because you couldn't stop drooling over her, back before you were best friends and Quinn had told you to stop leering one day when she decided to go with you.
Back then, you weren't allowed to be overwhelmingly attracted to her, and you sort of feel the same now. You don't know what's appropriate anymore, even if you've managed to slip back into the friend mode that you're growing to despise because it's making everything so much more complicated as the other side of ten years ago, you could flirt with her without worry. You could tease her and tell her in sports bra and tiny shorts turned you on, as a response to her calling you sweaty, but you can't now.
So, you put the last box of macaroni cheese back in the cupboard, and spin around, slightly further away from her now and fold your arms over your chest, resting your butt against the counter. Except she's looking at you through narrowed eyes, her lip sucked between her teeth and she's reading you again, but you're trying to resist by clenching your jaw and glancing around the kitchen, avoiding the eye contact. You don't want her to know where your head is at because even you don't know that. There's a little bit of it everywhere.
"Do you remember when we went running for the first time together?" She asks, after a long moment and your body tenses. Can she actually read your mind?
Still, you nod and smile, trying to lighten the atmosphere as it's getting heavier by the second and she's still fucking staring at you through narrowed eyes. You feel like an open book, even when you try not looking at her and at everything else in the room. "Yeah."
Brittany doesn't seem to notice or is maybe is but not caring, and pushes off the counter, coming towards you and stopping short, only half a meter away and you try to regulate your breathing as her scent is invading your senses. She's getting closer to you and your entire body is feeling it, like someone's just put you in the electric chair and turned it up to the maximum. You hate how much your body reacts to her being close to you.
(Well, not hate, but it's just kind of annoying.)
"Can I tell you a secret?" Brittany asks,, eyes flitting down your body to take in your running gear again, before slowly coming up to your brown ones and you know her well enough to see where this is going.
But you don't think you're ready for it. You're not ready for a secret. You need to keep adjusting to this relationship you have with her – whatever the hell it is – and see how it goes from there. You need to be the friends you were before you got together – the ones that didn't sleep together – and you need to focus on yourself. If anything happens, then so be it, but you're not going to force it and you're going to try and laugh this off and make it easier to deal with.
After all, she did just find out that you and Elaine are no longer a problem either, and that's naturally going to change things but you don't want it to influence anything.
So, you do the only thing you can think of and nod, letting her know she can tell you a secret but glance over at the laundry and spy a t-shirt and track pants on top, knowing if you're going to hear her out, you need to distract yourself and not just stare at her. If you're not in this specific outfit, you could probably steer away from the direction of this conversation too, and it seems like a good idea. You head over there, brushing past her and grabbing the first shirt you can, clutching it to your chest, covering your current clothes as if it'll magically switch the topic on hand.
But Brittany watches you the entire time, tilting her head to the side as you're holding the fabric and she smirks a little, like she's just figured out what you're doing and hurries up with her confession.
"I fancied the hell out of you when I first saw you in that get up," she admits, and there's a confidence in her tone that makes your thighs pinch together, hands squeeze the shirt tighter until your knuckles are white. You're starting to sweat now but in a totally different way than before and you know she can see it, and it's making her come towards you with a knowing glint in her eye.
"You were gross and sweaty," she wrinkles her nose up, but it just makes you laugh quietly and nervously as you try not to notice the fluttering inside your stomach as she speaks but it's there and you can't ignore it. Your body is having a say when your mind isn't. "But you were like…" Her brows raise as she pauses, like she's playing the memory of seeing you back then for the first time all over again and allows the smirk to grow as she continues, holding your eyes. "…Really hot," she enunciates, and you gulp when she cocks her head to the side, her voice lowering as her tongue pokes out to wet her lips, her eyes dragging back up your body in a way that makes heat flare across your skin. "Kind of like right now."
You want to feel guilty for this. It's literally been fifteen minutes since you broke up with Elaine but Brittany's looking at you like she did every time you ended up sleeping together. There's this lust and need in her eyes that's hacking away at your resolve, and you grip the t-shirt in your hand harder, balling it inside your fists and gulp again, too loudly not for the blonde to hear it. She hears it, smirking even wider now, pushing off the counter like she did a minute ago but this time she does come to you completely, her long legs winding as she freaking struts forward and you instinctively take a step back, only running into the laundry basket behind you on a table which stops the movement.
You scramble your mind for something to say. Something that'll get you out of this intense situation that you've found yourself in, but your throat is really fucking dry because your mouth is wide open and you're putting all your energy into breathing normally through it because it feels like the oxygen has been sucked from the room.
You can't move and she comes as close as possible without wrapping you up in her arms, totally invading your personal bubble and her hands move to the shirt in your hands, grabbing the sleeve that's dangling down. She doesn't stop there, just blinks slowly and holds your eyes, staying silent as her hand moves up to grip the clothing tighter, and your heart is thrashing so loudly against your ribcage that you think you might have to go to ER after this.
Because she's got you.
She's fucking got you in this staring contest you didn't want to be in in the first place, and when her fingertips brush over yours as she grips the t-shirt, sending electricity throughout your entire being, you gasp and the smirk on Brittany's face twists into a small smile, like she's just waiting for you to deny the connection. But you can't. You fucking can't deny it and you can't stop looking at her, your eyes flitting between both of hers, knowing her suspicions are completely fucking accurate but she just continues smiling at you as she fists the t-shirt, matching what you're doing but still touching you with the tips of her fingers.
It looks like you're about to play tug-of-war with the shirt, but you know it isn't heading that way. Not even a little.
"It kind of turns me on," she purrs, the confidence still in her voice and you suck in another sharp gasp, your cheeks reddening. Where her hand is touching yours, your skin is on fucking fire and it's spreading across your entire body. She really needs to stop doing shit like this to you because you barely have any resolve as it is, and you're desperately clawing away at your brain to try and find reason to push her away, but you're coming up blank.
Her scent is invading your nose, your mind is flurried with how close she is to you now, so close you can see every perfect imperfection on her face and being this close to her has never ended well.
And you're super fucking aware that it's been a while since she touched you. Hyper-aware in fact. You two had a more than healthy sex life when you were together, sleeping together at least five times a week which apparently for a long-term couple was a rarity, but she knows exactly how to touch you and how to turn you on. She always has done. So to have not slept together for over a month now, it's challenging to say the least. Especially when you she managed to get you into bed even after a freaking painful breakup.
(You're really beginning to ache for her. Like physically fucking ache and not inside your chest.)
(You really know what she means when she says she's getting turned on.)
(You felt the same way about her in her running clothes when she was bending and stretching.)
Still, you don't want to do this for the fourth time, even if the first three obviously kicked both of you in the ass to notice there was still something between you and even though you're incredibly thankful for the sexual connection you two share, you wish it wasn't so damn strong. You've genuinely never felt so freaking attracted to someone in every possible way – spiritually, physically, emotionally and obviously sexually – and you think that's one of the thousands of reasons why you always hung on to her. Why you could never let her go. Why you're really struggling to find any reason to just run out your own apartment and not just give in.
Even though it literally takes everything you have, you somehow find the strength to move. You duck out from in front of her, bumping the tip of your shoes against hers and then you're in the doorway to the living room, spinning around and panting heavily like you just went for another run, your lungs burning inside your chest. She follows you with her eyes, but she doesn't seem swayed and just folds her arm slowly, pushing her tongue to her teeth and staring at you through a narrowed squint but that damn smile is still there.
She totally knows what she's doing to you and if you weren't clinging on to the very last piece of resistance inside your body, you'd be embarrassed.
You're like a hormone filled teenager and you're at boiling point, but this isn't right. You really can't do this again.
"I'm really sweaty and sweat isn't sexy," leaves your mouth, the words stinging the air and you feel the coldness rush into the atmosphere. It was completely intended to be a boner killer, but Brittany waits for a long beat before reacting and then she's laughing quietly, shaking her head and your hands drop in front of you, still grasping the shirt and her grp releasing, and your mouth is opening for a totally different reason this time. She not only knows what you're doing, but she's finding it freaking hilarious that you're trying to fight or deny it.
And you don't know why you do it.
Well, you do, because you see an opportunity of Brittany sniggering to herself at whatever bullshit is leaving your mouth as a distraction and whip off your sweat drenched running top, leaving you temporarily topless in a sports bra.
You quickly fumble with the clean shirt in hand, hoping that being dressed differently will put a barrier between you and her because she just told you she was turned on, that she liked seeing you in running gear the first time you met, so it's the best move. Except you fumble so much, trying to go too fast, too quickly, that you drop the fucking shirt, the clothing hitting the floor in slow motion and then the sound of Brittany laughing stops, and so does your breathing.
FUCK.
You jerk forward to sweep it off the ground, but Brittany's hand snaps out and pushes against your shoulder, preventing the movement. You exhale shakily as she stares you up and down, now just stood there in a sports bra with your abs and too much skin on display, and it's dead fucking silent, apart from the heavy panting coming from you but she steps forward until she's right there, in front of you, that fucking smile still on her face.
Her eyes are dark, her stride over was confident, and you can only gulp, breathing harder and heavier as she drops into a crouch slowly, too close to your body and it makes your eyes roll back into your head because that was on purpose. Her face is now dangerously close to your crotch, and you try to resist, but your eyes flit down, seeing blue ones already gazing up at you and you suck in a sharp gasp, forcing yourself to look around at literally anything else in the room as she slowly raises back to her feet, holding the shirt you dropped in her hand.
She blinks slowly, her breath weirdly calm and you only know because you're purposely listening, desperately hoping she's struggling for air like you still are. That she might be feeling an ounce of the intensity that you're feeling right now, but she's just staring into your eyes calmly, like she can see in vivid pictures what you're thinking and pushing the shirt into your bare stomach, the backs of her knuckles pressing into your abs. She shudders at the touch, the smile disappearing from her face slowly at the touch, a short breath bursting free from her throat and you see the intensity of the moment hit her, too.
And well, you fucked it.
/
Fourteen Years Ago
Getting a body like yours didn't come free.
You had a killer metabolism, admittedly, but through high school you participated in a lot of physical activities outside of school time and made sure to run every day after school, having weekends off, because you liked having abs. The theme continued as you got older, going to college and running before the first class of the day and even when it got difficult, because hangovers existed and you were a freshman, you still pushed yourself and you enjoyed it.
It gave you an opportunity to run off your thoughts. To get out of your head for a bit until your lungs were burning and so were your legs. You used to run for hours upon end, along the banks and through the city, and it was only when you met Quinn and Brittany that you considered doing it with someone else.
You'd only known them a few weeks, but it turned out you all lived close to each other, and they were cool. You had a tiny, weeny, almost non-existent thing for Brittany – you had freaking eyes and her legs were to die for – but she was cute and funny, too and had this calming effect on you and Quinn was a bitch but you liked it and somehow you all gelled and had a few classes together, too. So, it wasn't strange when you turned up at the coffee shop you all worked at, after a long run, to grab a bottle of water and say hi to both of them whilst they were on shift.
You'd chosen to run through the city that day, enjoying the way people yelled at you when you paced past them but the headphones with blaring music drowned them out.
Anyway, you heard the bell ring above the door as you went inside, letting a few people out before you went to the counter and Brittany was on the register. She didn't notice you at first, scribbling down something on a cup with her back turned but you rapped your knuckles on the top and she spun around, eyes widening when they fell on you. Her mouth popped open, and you weren't stupid; you'd hooked up with enough girls to know when someone was attracted to you and because it was a hot summers day, you'd chosen to forgo the usual attire of leggings and a tight shirt, choosing a sports bra and loose shorts instead and you looked good. Sweaty, but good.
That attraction you could knew about though from all those other girls? That was staring right back at you, from freaking Brittany and you smirked because you were cocky and confident and it was fun to flirt with someone new and Brittany was insanely good looking. Easily in the top three most attractive people you'd ever laid eyes on.
(Probably number one, but you wouldn't admit that out loud.)
"You good?" You quirked, in a knowing manner and Brittany fumbled the pen in hand, almost dropping it but catching it skilfully as she snapped out of it and stepped towards the counter, leaning over. Her eyes trailed down your body, lingering over your abs and tits, spilling from the sports bra you were wearing, and you just let her check you out, cocking a brow when she finally returned to your eyes.
"I didn't know you ran," she replied, ignoring how obviously she was leering but you found it hot. She wasn't even embarrassed that you caught her staring and if anything, did it for longer as she looked right at you after doing so.
You just shrugged, folding your arms over your chest and laughing quietly. "You don't get abs like these without putting in the work," you said smugly, gesturing to your half-bare torso.
But Brittany just shot you a smouldering stare through thick lashes and for the first time ever, you felt your confidence fade. The cockiness seeped out your body until you wanted to shrivel up, and it was super weird because you had such a dominant personality and girls usually fell at your feet. You'd never met anyone that matched your energy, even that drama teacher you started flirting with and she was serious cougar material. She fell victim to the bats of your eyelashes and the smirk you gave a girl when you wanted them to whimper, and even though you hadn't exactly carved that notch into your bedpost just yet, it was on the cards.
Brittany though… She was looking at you like she wanted to tear your clothes off, and you held it for a long second before there was someone clearing their throat and you noticed Quinn stood by the coffee machine, hazel eyes flitting between you and the other blonde, taking in the energy surrounding you. Feeling like a deer caught in the headlights, you snapped yourself out of it, shaking your head and ducking it, the selection of chocolate bars stacked on the side suddenly incredibly interesting and Brittany just giggled.
"Am I interrupting something?" Quinn asked, her voice cautious and you glanced up at her, suspicion evident on her face.
Brittany stepped in though, waving her hand around and cocking her hip out against the counter. "Santana was just telling me that she goes running," she said, and you were thankful she took over because your heart was in your throat.
Quinn didn't seem to buy it though, tilting her chin up and studying you both again for a long moment and once again, Brittany took over. She could obviously see the look her friend was giving her – she was staring straight at her – and you wondered if she felt the same as you. She didn't seem to be embarrassed that you just had a weird connection that Quinn interrupted though, and you felt a little disheartened, thinking that it might have been a usual occurrence for the blonde if she didn't feel like she'd been caught red-handed.
You'd seen her flirt with customers and guys – who were way below her league – attempted the impossible and slip her their numbers after a few times of meeting her. You'd never heard about her following up on the contact, so she must have been used to getting hit on and maybe that was just another one. Maybe that's why she was being like that towards you and as much as it sucked, it was definitely the safer option and so you'd let yourself be another one of her people to flirt with.
When the girl is that pretty, anyone would be mad not to flirt with her.
But that was a good thing. Flirting with you was just as harmless as you flirting with her, then. You could have a flirtatious friendship with Brittany, even if you couldn't actually do anything about it and it didn't mean anything.
"I was thinking about running with her some time," Brittany added, and your eyes flashed to her, shocked but instantly feeling good about the suggestion. Admittedly, you'd put about 2.3 seconds thoughts into it, but you could totally run with her, especially if she was matching your attire. Or lack of, you should've said. "If she'll have me, that is?" She directed the question at you, and you found yourself nodding immediately, earning a wide grin with sparkling blue eyes which made your stomach flip. It was weird, but you were starting to like Brittany more. As a friend, obviously. "Awesome."
"Huh," Quinn commented, more of a question than anything else but Brittany was being normal about it and you were going to do the same. It wasn't weird for two friends to do something together and you hadn't spent much alone time with the girl. You'd done shifts with her and had girls nights out with them both but the only solo times you had with her were brief, so you were looking forward to some bonding time, especially over a passion of yours such as running.
So, you sucked up the courage to speak. You needed to show Quinn it was innocent like the other blonde was. "Yeah, and I just came to grab a bottle of water," you explained, to both of them as you hadn't got round to telling Brittany why you were even here and she grabbed one out the fridge from beneath the counter, sliding it over to you instantly. "Thank you," you whispered.
Brittany winked at you – and you clung to the underside of the counter, out of sight from both the blondes – and offered her a half-smile. Only half because you were swiftly recovering from her winking at you.
"Well, I'm gonna shoot now," you added, holding up the bottle of water and twisted off the cap, taking a long pull of the cold liquid and moaning when it settled in your stomach. "See you guys around?"
Hazel eyes narrowed at you, but blue ones beamed, and they both nodded – one stiffer than the other – as you backed away and headed out the store again to resume your run.
You were already breathless when you broke into a jog.
/
When you went running with Brittany for the first time, she turned up wearing only a sports bra and a barely-there pair of tight shorts and was stretching her limbs, bent over in a position that made your eyebrows shoot up. The girl was flexible as hell and the wonder of what other positions she could do shot through your mind, but you swiped them away instantly.
You couldn't think of Brittany like that. You were friends and you really didn't want to make it awkward with your trio friendship with Quinn.
However, because you were caught off guard, you couldn't get an instant control on your reactions and much like she did with you, you stared at her with your mouth open, drool curdling at the corner of your lip and it was only when she giggled and straightened up, noticing your presence, that you snapped out of it. She jogged over to you slowly, resuming her stretches and bent over to touch her toes with her fingers, her ass popping out behind her, and your body instinctively leaned to the right to get a better look at the beautifully shaped curves of her body.
Hell, you were only human, after all.
"Like my running gear, too?" She asked, rhetorically, smirking as she caught you in the act and straightened up, holding one arm in front of her and pressing down to stretch out her arms.
Had you not been so distracted and half-embarrassed that you she noticed your leering, you would've realised she basically just admitted to finding you attractive in your gear, but the fabric of her clothes was really tight and you could see the way her muscles were flexing like, all over her body and she was just… Heavenly. She genuinely looked like something carved by the Greek gods and you bit down on your tongue to stop anything coming out your mouth. Something flirty or sexual or perhaps a comment about how good she'd look bent over the other way round with you deep inside her, because that would've been super inappropriate.
"I–Uh–I wasn't–Uh," you stuttered, unable to form any coherent words and Brittany just grinned widely at you, biting her tongue between her teeth and scrunching up her nose, like she found your lack of ability to say anything adorable.
But she was such a mind fuck. Somehow, she was like, insanely attractive, and cute and funny and kind, and you had no idea how to feel. Your insides were twisting and your thighs were pressed together tightly and you were super confused because you didn't know if you wanted to laugh or cry. She made your emotions mix together in a big jumble and you couldn't focus on whether you were finding her hot, cute, or just nice.
She knew how she felt towards you, though.
"You're cute," she whispered, and yup, the confusion trebled. Was she hitting on you or not? And why were you being so fucking lame about it? All confidence and cockiness that you usually had when you were flirting with a girl had just disappeared
But then Brittany winked at you in a way that made your insides puddle into a mess on the floor and started off in a slow jog, jutting her chin to urge you to join her, so you did.
Even if your legs were like jelly, and you actually stumbled as you tried to match her pace.
/
The next time you went running, Quinn joined you.
She was a lazy runner, always wanting to stop after a short sprint and you liked the marathon type runs. Not fast sprints, even though you only discovered Quinn was lazy because you challenged her to her a one of them and her pride was too much to say no. Brittany outpaced both of you by a long mile, but her legs were insanely long and you enjoyed the view from behind, if you were honest, but it seemed that you weren't exactly subtle with your leering because when Quinn was taking a breather, she called you out on it.
"You've gotta stop checking her out," she said, voice laced with exhaustion and in front of you, Brittany spun around and began jogging backward, slowing her pace so you could catch up but you decided to match with Quinn's speed, not wanting her to hear this conversation and stayed away for a minute.
You still tried to play it like you didn't know what she was talking about and clicked your tongue, screwing up your face. "She's just a bit of eye candy," you replied but she wasn't buying it, so you shrugged. "It's harmless; we're just flirty people."
Quinn scoffed and you looked at her to see her stop on the spot, putting her hands on her hips and pressing her lips together tightly as she glared at you. "Britt's seeing someone, and you can't sleep with one of your best friends," she stated and it was kind of like, friend code or girl code or whatever, but you didn't like that she was telling you no. It was like being told not to push the big red button, even if you knew deep down that you couldn't actually flirt with Brittany to the point of seduction, but you just wanted to push the damn button because it had legs for days. Even if Quinn had two very good points. "It'd make all of our friendships awkward, so I'm going to veto that idea."
Your brows pushed together, and you saw Brittany breaking into a jog towards you and rolled your eyes at Quinn, ignoring the need to make a snarky comment at the blonde and waved her off instead, choosing to play it off instead. "You're just jealous I don't find you attractive at all," you sniped, winking and making the conversation playful as Brittany came over, smiling breathlessly as she slowed down. "Don't think Quinn's built for anything other than dragging herself around like a sloth," you quipped to Brittany who grinned but tutted at you.
"Don't be mean. She's just out of practise," she retorted and you laughed as Quinn batted both of you in the arms, not hard enough to actually do any damage but enough that you both jerked back.
"Bitch," you hissed, rubbing the spot and you all burst into laughter when Brittany pouted, making Quinn's face drop with regret because hurting Brittany was like a no go. It was like kicking a puppy but when Brittany followed up with a cheeky grin, you knew that she wasn't as innocent as she came across and it was making you like her more.
"Alright, alright," you continued and stood between them, pushing your arms out as if you were trying separate them. You glanced at the taller blonde and smirked, and mentally told her you were about to be a bitch which she nodded slightly at, almost like she was not only allowing you (even if you didn't need her permission, but it was nice still) but she was going to enjoy whatever you were about to say. "Let's see how long flabby ass can go before she passes out," you teased and darted off into a sprint with Brittany, avoiding the next jab in the arm Quinn tried to deliver you.
/
Vegas up next?