"The Beast You Made of Me"
Santana felt a hand snake up her abdomen coming to rest unassumingly on her breast. This was the morning after and she was already thinking of an escape plan. Rousing from her slumber, she tossed Puck's heavy arm off of her.
"You have to go." she said curtly as she stood pulling the sheet along with her.
But, Puck knew that already. He knew the drill. Hell, he pretty much invented the drill.
He sat up in bed, shaking his head. A fruitless attempt to knock the sleep out of his body.
"What are you going to tell the daughter of Moby Dick?" she asked sliding on a pair of shorts and one of the shirts Brittany had left behind. A loose, olive green v-neck. She never washed it and she only wore it when she knew she wouldn't be leaving the house. It still smelled like Brittany.
Puck bit back the urge to curse instead he shrugged his shoulders as he redressed himself. "I'm not telling her anything."
"Ah, but I thought love meant honesty?" she asked her voice dripping with sarcasm.
She pushed him out of the way as she began to strip her bed. When it came to boys, the morning after smell was the worst. She needed her bed sheets clean as soon as possible.
Sliding on his boots, forgoing lacing them Puck watched her work, his hand idling on the door knob.
"What are you going to tell Brittany?"
Her body tensed, but her arms continued to pull at the bedspread. Puck knew that she loved her. The whole Glee club knew. He didn't know to what extent. But, he was eager to push buttons. Brittany seemed to be the one thing that got a rise out of her these days.
"I asked you a question." His voice came out gruff.
Santana spun around, her signature bitch smirk playing on her lips. "I'm going to tell her that I used you for sex. I'm going to follow up with that it was mediocre."
He shot back a glare. She knew how to play this game too.
"Anymore questions?"
He wordlessly grabbed his bookbag off of the floor and opened the door.
"Also, Puckerman you should be thanking me. Everyone knows that pet rhino that you parade around under the rouse of being your girlfriend thinks a hanjob equates to adequate sexing. I did you a favor."
"Screw you, Santana." He spat. One foot in her room, the other out the door.
"You know what? When we were screwing on the regular your insults were a lot more original. Like Lauren's three stomachs, you've gone soft."
She shot back her retort with lightning speed. She knew how to pack a verbal punch without second guessing herself.
She knew how to hurt someone.
Without a word Puck moved his other leg across the threshold of her bedroom and made his way out of house all the while cursing himself. He didn't like her, but he knew that as soon as she called he would be right back in her bed.
She preferred it when the boys didn't say goodbye.
Most of them thought it would offend her so they'd tried to make small talk until Santana inevitably cut them off mid-sentence and kicked them out.
Before her heart turned against her brain and selfishly decided to love Brittany, Santana had a precise exit strategy for the boys she snuck through her window. Kissing was kept to a minimum as was talking. The only words that needed to be spoken was a hurried, "Do you have a condom?" And of course the appropriate response.
But, more often then not, she felt herself wanting to ask them to stay. If only to hold on to the fact that someone actually wanted her a little longer.
Julia's last name was Donovan. Santana found this out by pulling the fire drill during Spanish class and rifling through Mr. Shue's desk while everyone filed out onto the school grounds. She was a transfer student from Florida and she lived at 2048 Gallagher Drive-
Santana's black Jetta pulled up to 2046 Gallagher Drive. She shut it off and steeled herself as she opened the door. Grabbing a bottle of $6 wine she walked up the lawn and rung the doorbell of the blue two story stucco and waited.
She could hear shouting from inside and moments later the door swung open to reveal Mercedes, her hair in rollers, draped in a teal house coat. Her face fell. Santana held out the wine.
"I brought booze."
"How did you find my house?" Mercedes asked looking past Santana half expecting, well she wasn't sure what she was expecting but she knew it wasn't Santana turning up out of nowhere wielding wine.
"I snooped through Mr. Shue's desk. Invite me inside."
"Hell to the no. And put the booze up, my parents are home."
"And I'm sure they would be super disappointed to hear you speaking to a guest this way. They raised you better than that, Wheezy." Santana replied pushing pass Mercedes and walking inside.
An incredulous look plastered on her face, Mercedes shut the door and followed behind Santana. "Why are you here?"
"We're friends. Where's your bedroom?"
"We're not friends. We hate each other. Follow me." Mercedes motioned for Santana to move in the direction opposite the lively chatter that spilled out from what Santana guessed was the kitchen. Instead they turned a corner that lead to Mercedes's room at the end of the hall.
Safely inside Santana stashed the wine in Mercedes desk. "A gift for you. No need to thank me."
"Is this about Brittany?"
Santana felt that familiar constriction begin inside her chest at the sound of the girls name. She had stopped trying to fight it a long time ago, instead choosing to let the pain flow through her. A constant reminder of what she lost.
Of what she never really had.
"Why would this be about, Brittany?"
Mercedes sat down on her bed, her back leaning against the headboard. "Who are you kidding, Santana. Everyone knows you got it bad for her-"
"Shut up." Her arms were crossed again. Defense shields up. It was mechanical. She did it without thinking.
"I don't get you Santana."
"What's there to get?"
"You're supposed to be this bad ass. This take no shit from no one chick. But, this scares you?"
"Don't act like you know me."
"I won't pretend to. But, you openly, you PROUDLY spout off at the mouth about all the boys you make it with, but you won't admit how you feel about, Brittany? That's weak."
Mercedes took a bottle of clear nail polish out of her nigh stand and began to paint her nails. Santana stood frozen in the middle of the room. Once again unsure of what to say. She uncrossed her arms and sat down on a blue computer chair.
"This is your house so I'll refrain from punching you in the face for that little outburst." Her voice was meek and her eyes were glued to the floor.
"It's weak."
"I told her I loved her." her voice soft, her eyes still glued to the floor Santana didn't notice when Mercedes, in shock, knocked the bottle of nail polish over.
"What?"
"A couple days after we sang that song with Ms. Holiday. I told her I loved her."
"What did she say?"
"She said she couldn't leave Artie."
"Well, that's understandable. Artie's a good guy."
Santana's head snapped up quickly, her eyes hardened, "Artie treats her like she's got a severe case of the Becky. It's patronizing and she deserves better."
"Like a girl who won't subscribe to label enough to tell the world she loves her?"
"Listen Wheezy I didn't come here for a heart to heart, alright?"
"Which brings us back to my original question. Why are you in my house?"
"I need a favor."
Her hair in bouncy curls, Mercedes clutched the bottle of wine nervously as she walked two houses down to 2048 Gallagher. Until Santana had mentioned it she hadn't noticed that the house had gained new tenants.
As she glanced back Santana gave her a thumbs up and her best shit eating grin from her Jetta. Rolling her eyes Mercedes forged ahead and rang the doorbell.
No answer.
She rang it again. This time it was snatched up by a groggy Julia.
"Are you a Jevoha's witness?"
Mercedes held out the bottle of wine, "I brought a welcome to the neighborhood present. It cost six bucks."
"My parents aren't home."
"It's for you. You go to McKinley. You have Mr. Shue for Spanish."
"It's kind of creepy that you know so much about me." Julia replied wiping her eyes and grabbing the bottle out of Mercedes hand. "I'm Julia."
"Mercedes. I'm in Mr. Shue's Glee club."
"Those kids who get slushied?"
"That would be us."
"Oh. Cool..." Julia shifted her weight uncomfortably, "So, I'll guess I'll see you at school then?"
"I actually had a question to ask you."
"I definitely do not want to join the Glee club."
"No, that's not it. And besides we have 12 kids. I was wondering if you could tell me what happened with Santana Lopez?"
"Pertaining to?"
It was Mercedes turn to shift uncomfortably as Julia's once relaxed demeanor, stiffened.
"I heard she like tried to OD or something at the park."
"I have no idea what you're talking about."
"Oh. I thought that you were the one who found her?"
"I have no idea what you're talking about." Julia's voice had a bite to it and Mercedes unconsciously stepped back. "I think you should go now."
"Yeah, it was nice meeting you." Mercedes turned to walk back to her house.
"You know I wouldn't go around talking about something you clearly know nothing about." Julia called after her. With a quick nod of agreement, Mercedes hurried back to the safety of her home.
Santana, panting and dripping with sweat lied splayed out on her back, against her bed. The weight of Brittany's body pressed against her own was the only thing keeping her planted on the earth, but she was slipping.
Two slightly curved fingers plunged inside of her. She swallowed Brittany's fingers all the way up to her knuckles. Brittany set a rhythm. In and out, in and out. A 1,2 movement that packed a punch and tore like shrapnel through her body.
It was a good pain. A pain that traveled through her every limb, pooling at the wet mound between her legs. A pain that stripped her of any cognitive function.
She could only lay there and moan as Brittany's unrelenting fingers worked her into a frenzy. As her mouth latched onto her neck leaving a mark that meant she belonged to someone.
That she belonged to Brittany-
It wasn't working.
Santana kicked the covers off of her over-heated body and pulled her fingers out of her panties, wiping them on the bed sheet. This was her go-to memory when she needed to get off and didn't have Brittany to help her.
This was the moment that she has stored away in a vault inside of her brain. It was only the third time they had had sex, but it was the first time Santana forgot that she was sleeping with her best friend. Who happened to be a girl. And that they happened to be doing it two rooms down from her parents.
It was the night she had recklessly given herself over to Brittany. Let herself be devoured by nimble fingers and a hungry mouth. The next morning she had the marks and sore muscles to prove it.
It was the first time she had ever closed her eyes during sex. It wouldn't be the last.
With Brittany at least.
Santana stood and opened her window. She let her upper body hang out as she tilted her face toward the swollen moon and let the cold air create goosebumps along her skin. She stole a glance at the digital clock that rested against her wall, 4:32 AM.
Sunrise would be coming soon and along with it school. And along with it, Brittany.
With two muscle strapped football players flanking her sides, Santana strode down the hallway clutching a slushie and mentally playing duck, duck, goose as she passed terrified students.
"Duck..." she grinned at a chunky red head-
"Duck..." she shot a glare to a tall soccer player-
"Duck..." she motioned to throw the cup of goo at a nerdy blond kid who fell into his lockers-
"Duck..." that Hispanic kid with a studder was safe-
"Goose."
She came to rest in front of Jacob Ben Israel. He pressed himself against the door to the boys bathroom, but it was too late. Red slushie launched into the air coating his face, matting into his Jew fro. He let out a small gurgle as he collapsed to the floor in a heap. His glasses falling off of his face.
The football players high-fived behind her and she tossed the cup to Jacob's feet.
With a turn on her heel, she sauntered down the hallway. The students parting as she walked. She stopped at her locker and quickly dialed in her combination.
"But, I love his hair." Brittany's voice was even and it was right behind Santana.
Still pulling books from her locker, Santana didn't turn around, "His hair's atrocious."
"Santana-"
Stuffing her Science book into her bag, Santana slammed her locker. "Don't you have a boyfriend to be escorting to class right now?"
"We haven't spoken since Rachel's party. I need to tell you about what I caught Charity doing. Besides Artie's at home sick."
Santana had to bite her tongue to resist asking what Charity, Brittany's cat, had been up to. Fake or not, the cats escapades were some of the funniest things she'd ever heard.
"I don't want to talk to you, Brittany."
"Yes, you do. I can tell by the way your body leans in to me." Brittany replied, leaning against their lockers. "You may not miss me but your body sure does."
These moments of lucidity always took Santana by surprise. So much so that she felt the corners of her mouth turn up into a grin, "Where the hell did you get that from?"
"Charity told me. We've been talking about our situation. She told me to give you this." Brittany reached into her book bag and pulled out her diary, handing it to Santana.
"Is this your diary?"
"Yeah, she wants you to write down your feelings and get it back to me so she can read it...She's really good at relationships, Santana. She's been pregnant three times."
Laughter spilled out from Santana's lips. A sound foreign to her ears.
"I've missed that..." Brittany said quietly her eyes roaming over Santana's shining face. "I've missed hearing you laugh."
"I haven't had much to laugh about." Santana replied. She was suddenly aware of how close Brittany was to her. Of the ever familiar, always intoxicating scent of her former best friend. Of the unrelenting throbbing at her core that her own fingers and Puck's penis couldn't satisfy.
What happened next she really couldn't be held accountable for.
Two fingers, curved slightly plunged into her. Santana bit her lip as her breath hitched in her throat. She threw her hands out to brace herself against the walls of the small supply closet as her legs begin to tremble beneath her. Brittany brought her free hand around to Santana's ass and squeezed tightly as she pulled Santana impossibly close.
They crashed to the floor in a heap, Santana's hands tangling in Brittany's hair. Their mouths found each other in the darkness. Santana's moans grew louder, but Brittany continued her assault.
Brittany was cheating on her boyfriend and she knew it but she didn't care. She didn't care because it was Santana. She didn't care because she wanted it.
Santana knew what was happening, but she couldn't process it. Like all the times before she could only concentrate on the unrelenting fingers that moved in and out of her. Like all the other times before she could only clutch possessively at Brittany's body, her tongue darting in out of Brittany's mouth. Her teeth nipping at Brittany's skin.
And like all the times before she just closed her eyes and let the feeling overtake her.