I walk the line like Johnny Cash
I made the bus in seconds flat
I called your line too many times
I'm not obsessed, just impolite
- Plushgun
X
Brittany wasn't quite sure what had just happened, but she was almost certain the earth had just spun off its axis. It had been hours after their arrival and she and Santana were now laid side by side in bed under the sheets, spent, their hair fanned out against the pillows as they both worked to catch their breath.
''That...was...fucking hot,'' Santana panted, still reeling from the last round as she stared up at the ceiling.
''I can't...with...guh...'' Brittany found herself only able to speak in short, awkward turns. ''I don't...my...I think I may be having a stroke.''
Dizzy from the rush and with her body still humming Brittany smiled in content.
She always felt a little bit like she and Santana had invented sex. She supposed neither of them would even exist if all of civilization hadn't experienced sex in the technical sense so technically, logically, yes, people other than them had had sex before, but she found it hard to believe that they had sex. Of the heated, passionate, frenzied kind that was nothing short of divine. In her head there was just no way anyone before them could ever create that they way they created it together. They had always been amazingly in sync with each other, possessing intimate knowledge of the other's body. Getting each other riled up and pushing each other over the edge was an everyday occurrence, often times a multiple times a day occurrence, but this?
This had been something else, Brittany thought. Whether it was slow and tantalizing or fast and dirty, the brunette's touch was unlike any other. It always took Brittany's breath away, but what had just occurred between them on this bed was completely out of this world.
Considering how amazing it usually was between them, this was really saying something.
Brittany suddenly recalled her mother's addiction to all of those paranormal tv shows where people talked about their supposed near-death experiences and how they claimed to have seen angels and heard trumpets, explaining to the camera that they had experienced majestic revelation in some heaven-like place where everything was beautiful only to come back to earth emotionally transformed by all they had witnessed.
That.
Brittany had never really believed in any of that noise until now, because what she had just had with Santana wasn't sex so much as it was a profound spiritual experience. If Brittany hadn't momentarily lost her ability to talk she'd throw a halleluja out into the air.
Santana had actually started things off fairly slowly, but moments into it, it was as if something strange overtook her, overtook the both of them actually. Something rushed and unstoppable. Some force that was greater and bigger than them. So out of body and explosive it was that Brittany briefly wondered if this bed had some kind of otherworldly properties that could give its inhabitants out of this world sex. In the end, she merely chalked it up to Santana. Santana and her amazing insatiable appetite and desire that never failed to make Brittany tremble.
As Santana's naked chest heaved she announced, ''Out of all the times we've been together that has to be in our top ten and by now I think we're way into the triple digits.''
''Quadruple digits if you ask me,'' Brittany added at her side, staring up at the ceiling as well.
''What the hell was that?'' Santana asked, still stunned. ''I mean I know we're good, but damn.''
''Right,'' Brittany laughed through her post-sex fatigue, just as taken back by the intensity. ''You just-just-just kept going.''
''Me? What about you? It was your idea to go again that last time.''
''I didn't exactly hear you complaining.''
''Maybe I did, you just couldn't hear it over the sound of your own voice chanting my name like it was scripture.''
''So full of yourself.''
''And you love it,'' Santana turned to give Brittany's cheek a peck. ''Seriously, I think we may have just topped our personal bests.''
''Hmm.'' Brittany raised an eyebrow in playful consideration. ''It was even better than that time in the choir room against the piano.''
''Mmmmmm, the piano.'' Santana recalled with a wistful expression. ''Good times, good times.''
''Yeah, it was, but I don't think Brad appreciated the ass prints we left on it.''
Santana recalled yet another wonderfully explicit memory, ''it was even better than that time sophomore year when we locked ourselves in Quinn's room and did it on her bed.''
''Oh god,'' Brittany moaned at the memory. ''Now that one was a top fiver for sure.''
''I think what made that one especially hot was listening to Q bang on the door the entire time screaming 'for the love of God not on my bed, my nana made me that quilt'.''
''It was a really pretty quilt,'' Brittany snickered.
''Not by the time we were done with it, it wasn't.''
It had indeed been a very lovely piece Brittany remembered, of course by the time they were finished there had been a few small tears at some of the intricate patches from where one of them had grabbed ahold of it during a particularly intense moment. By the time they were finished and opened the door to allow Quinn entrance the entire thing ended up being covered in wet spots and had absolutely reeked of sex. In the face of Quinn's horror, they had been quite proud of their handiwork.
''Quinn was so mad,'' Britt remembered. ''She wouldn't talk to us for a week.''
''Which if you ask me wasn't much of a punishment as it was a reward. And anyway, it's what she gets. If you remember she called us over because she said she wanted to hang out and watch a movie in that awesome home theater room her douchey father built, but then when we got there all she did was try to pressure us into becoming the first members to sign up for her lame ass celibacy club. And you know how talk of chastity and virtue makes my clothes come off.''
''And why did my clothes have to come off too?''
''Because, being subject to long-winded, archaic text written by cavemen but passed off as holy scripture can cause itching, burning and an allergic reaction to logical reasoning. We listened to Quinn's mom's bible thumping for a solid hour and I had to make sure you got the other side of all of this. I couldn't let you be brainwashed. Your clothes came off for your own good, Britt.'' Santana reached over to stroke her hand against Brittany's bare hip. ''I had to demonstrate to you that the universe didn't begin when god created man, but that all of time and space started because of a big, big bang.''
''Which we did on Quinn's bed, three times.''
''For science.''
''You're evil.''
A devilish grin played across Santana's features. ''Thank you.''
They burst out into shoulder-shaking laughter, both of them still slightly dazed and buzzing from post-orgasmic bliss. When their giggling died out, Brittany couldn't help but think about how easy this felt, how wonderful this was, existing with Santana in the afterglow.
The sex was mind blowing, because with Santana mind blowing was simply par for the course. It kind of went without saying. But the after part? The part where Santana simply allowed them to lay and laugh side by side, sated and satisfied, without caution or worry. That part? That was the part Brittany had spent years fantasizing about.
The truth was she'd never had to fantasize about sex with Santana, because she'd always known the real thing. She'd had the real thing. Above her, beneath her, inside of her. Brittany had never stayed up long nights wondering what Santana's skin felt like against her fingertips or how the other girl tasted, no, but she had spent many sleepless evenings aching, longing to know what it would be like to lie with Santana, to stare meaningfully into her dark eyes, to feel the depth in them, the passion in them, to know that all of it was for her, just her and no one else. She didn't just want Santana's body, she wanted her heart. She wanted to be exposed to that fire she was so sure burned within her.
Years of having to hear ''sex is not dating'' and ''it's better without feelings'' and ''I'm only here because...'' gave Brittany a lot of time to think up different fantasies. Fantasies in which Santana stopped running and Brittany stopped having to chase and they could just be. She never told Santana about any of them back then because Brittany was certain all she would have done was throw some dismissive, snarky remark out about Brittany's silly starry-eyed ways of thinking. Plus Brittany enjoyed keeping them all to herself, there was something to be said about living in your head to a certain degree.
She built entire universes from these daydreams. Some involved weddings, babies and white picket fences in a blissful imagined future with Santana. In one she imagined that in some near distant future they would finally be a real couple, with a house and a family and a mortgage and fuel efficient cars, living some wonderfully boring life together. Brittany would coach their kid's soccer team and Santana would inevitably be that crazy supportive embarrassing mom in the stands rooting for their tyke on the field. And when their neighborhood would have block parties Brittany would always end up standing at the grill amongst the husbands as they clinked their bottles of beer against hers in salute and recognition of the fact that she had - hands down - the sexiest wife on the block. And at night after tucking the little one in, she and Santana would crawl into their bed and surround themselves in each other completely and utterly content. It was an imagined existence filled with breakfasts in bed and backyard birthday parties and quiet, quaint date nights consisting of nights at the movie theater and romantic walks through the park.
Or, in other fantasies they'd forego all of the trappings of ordinary suburban life completely. Santana would become a wildly successful singer with everyone in the entertainment industry hailing her as the next Adele and Amy all rolled into one. Meanwhile Brittany herself would become a hotshot choreographer that artists all over the world sought out. In this fantasy they'd become a total-mega-power-couple, the likes of which had never been seen before. Better and bigger and more talented than Jay-Z and Beyonce or Brad and Angelina combined. Magazines would tout them as the most powerful, talented couple in Hollywood. They'd make all the hot lists while raking in the millions and somehow would also find the time to use their power for good, trotting around the globe and shining a light and championing those in need. In this daydream Brittany fantasized them as the perfect couple who would do sexy photoshoots and walk the red carpet and adopt awesome ass babies from like every country. This Santana would be so proud and happy to have Brittany on her arm and together they'd rule the world. Totally.
Yeah. Brittany had some pretty sweet fantasies.
The unfortunate thing about fantasies though is that really they can only sustain you for so long. After a certain period of time you start to want more than a fantasy. It was at that point, at that realization that things got complicated between them and Brittany started to wonder if perhaps maybe the fantasy would always be just that. A fantasy. Something she had built up in her head, something that would always be out of her grasp, completely and utterly unattainable.
She'd touched Santana's body so many times, but there were nights where Brittany wondered if she had ever managed to touch Santana's heart the way Santana had touched hers.
It didn't help that everyone around her was constantly telling her that Santana wasn't worth the effort because she was bad. Even their own friends thought her to be a bitch. She had heard Quinn comment as such several times. After Santana's exploits with Finn during Madonna week had came to light Rachel had squawked to anyone who would listen about how big, bad predatory Santana had manipulated poor, sweet innocent Finn into bed. Even Kurt and Tina, while not having expressed a dislike for Santana, did voice their apprehension.
On one particular evening during sophomore year when Santana had decided to ditch her to meet up with some random hookup Brittany had found herself getting invited to a sleepover with Tina and Kurt which they had arranged to coincide with the release of Beyonce's latest tour DVD. It was at this sleepover that they'd had the brilliant idea to get together again and practice and create their own Single Ladies video project. And so, after doing their best to mimic their favorite dance sequences of the tour movie and demolishing an entire pizza together, they collapsed onto the floor in a fit of giggles. Coming down from their natural high and perhaps feeling somewhat bonded they soon began a serious, hushed conversation about boys and sex. A bashful Kurt admitted that he didn't have any experience (he had yet to meet Blaine and his one super awkward make out session with Brittany was several months away), and a nervous Tina admitted the same which made Brittany the most knowledgeable in the subject of sex. Both teens eagerly spouted off questions about boys and Brittany answered with careless ease. It was only when they asked her who the best sex she'd ever had was that made her pause, her ears burning in a sort of delightful embarrassment that spread over her.
She knew she shouldn't have, but they had been so insistent and eager and well, kind. Tina and Kurt weren't like Quinn or any of the other Cheerios, no, they were warm. It felt nice to be just one of the girls with them. They would both go on to be witnesses to sex is not dating and that one awkward phone tree, but the nature of her true relationship with Santana had been revealed to them before that. She had sworn them to secrecy (which they upheld) as they wiggled in excitement at the prospect of being confided in by one of the most popular girls in school. When she quietly but very proudly told them who exactly had given her the best sex she had ever had she was greeted with two very stunned expressions. ''I guess it makes sense it'd be her'', Tina had said, ''I mean she's Santana. It has to be the reason why all of the guys are okay with her treating them like garbage.'' Brittany's feathers were slightly ruffled by the comment and she quickly spoke up, ''but she doesn't treat me like garbage'', she said. Kurt tilted his head sympathetically and added ''no, she just ditches you at every available opportunity yet expects you to come running at the drop of a hat. Unlike the guys she jerks around, I can actually tell that she cares about you, Britt, but that doesn't change the fact that something is in that girl.'' Tina concurred with ''she's borderline vampiric and trust me I would know, I watch True Blood.'' Brittany shook her head, refusing to hear it. She told them that everyone Santana had ever touched knew what they were getting into when they were with her because despite what everyone thought of her Santana had never had to manipulate anyone for sex. Santana always gave them a choice, and she was always honest about what they could expect from her, and what they couldn't. She was always honest with Brittany too, painfully so even. Other than friendship, Santana never made any promises to her. ''Everybody thinks she's a bitch, but she's not, she's honest,'' Brittany had said to them with conviction.
Brittany knew that when it came down to it, the rest of the club cared about Santana, but that didn't exactly mean that they liked her. No matter how she tried to explain it they could never quite see Santana the way that she did. They never really got that Santana was built a certain way, she didn't play by anyone's rules, she didn't humor people. She said what she said and meant what she meant, even if it wasn't polite, it was always honest. Granted, Santana's honesty could at first glance look like cruelty, but it wasn't. If you looked closely, if you paid attention, if you understood how she worked, you would only see it was brave.
Brittany just didn't quite understand how the bravest, most honest person she had ever met was so afraid of showing the world and Brittany herself what she really felt. In her eyes Santana had always been invincible, it was hard to see her as anything else. She was aware that Santana was human of course and had flaws like everyone else, but Brittany couldn't help but see those flaws as part of Santana's perfection. The girl was overly sensitive, sure, occasionally prone to lashing out, yeah, and she wasn't above slapping someone across the face if she thought it warranted. Brittany knew all of this, but it was hard for her to reconcile the reality of this very human, very complicated, very complex Santana with the fantasy Santana seated upon a pedestal in Brittany's head.
Brittany had since realized that in her eagerness she had pushed Santana, the real, flawed and very human Santana, too hard and too fast. Santana hadn't been ready for Brittany's prom proposal on Fondue For Two, she wasn't yet prepared to proudly don her Lebanese shirt on stage for all to see. When it came to Santana Brittany had the tendency to get ahead of herself. She had to come to terms with her own missteps in their relationship and was trying with everything to amend that now with patience and encouragement as Santana began her search for personal resolution.
She had hoped that their conversation in the hallway before their last Glee club meeting was the start of getting things back on track, restoring order to their universe. Brittany had, in no uncertain terms, let it be known that she loved Santana more than anything or anyone in the world. She told the brunette in her own gentle way that that would never change, could never change. Even though Santana hadn't said that she loved her back in that moment, Brittany had never been more certain of their unspoken commitment to each other.
That was the first night they ever spent together. Really, really together. It was the first night Santana purposely looked into her eyes. The first night Santana held her. The first time they ever fell asleep together, skin to skin. When she thinks back on that evening a few short months ago it isn't the earth-shaking orgasms she had that first come to mind, it isn't even that intoxicating sensation of being inside of Santana, no, the first thing that comes to mind about that night is that she finally got to lay her head on the chest of the girl she loved and be lulled to sleep by the gentle thumping of her heartbeat.
It was better than any fantasy Brittany had ever daydreamed and she had spent the first two months of her summer vacation going to bed and waking up in the arms of the most stubborn, amazing, sexy, determined person she had ever met. Now that she'd experienced that real, pure intimacy she couldn't go back to being satisfied with some fantasy Santana.
Brittany had resolved to wait for as long as it took Santana to be ready. Even if it meant all summer. Even if it meant all senior year. Even if it meant the next five years. Even if it meant forever. It was going to happen, they were going to happen. Brittany wholeheartedly believed that someone as strong as Santana would eventually come to it in her own way, in her own time and when she did Brittany would be there.
Every day she saw and felt Santana getting closer.
Especially in these moments here in bed when Santana began gently pulling Brittany toward her, silently inviting her skin to meet her skin. Brittany grinned at the gesture and placed her head onto Santana's pillow while she let her hand rest on Santana's toned stomach to trace slow, invisible figure eights on her smooth skin.
''You know, now that I think about it this wasn't so different than it usually is. You were amazing,'' Brittany said, nuzzling against Santana's ear while delightful, relaxing little tingles floated up and down her spine, ''But then you're always amazing.''
''We're always amazing,'' Santana sweetly corrected.
''Know what's funny?''
''Mmm?''
''I can always tell how good it is by how sleepy you get afterwards and you always get sleepy afterwards. Well, at least with me you do.''
''Pshhhh, I do not.''
''Honey.''
''What, I don't,'' Santana scoffed, making a funny little dismissive noise with her mouth. ''I'm not some lame inexperienced, clueless newb at this okay.''
''Trust me, I know you're definitely not.''
''I've been having sex since I was fourteen. I know what I'm doing.''
''It isn't about experience. That has nothing to do with it though.''
''Do with what?''
''With the fact that when it's really good, when it's really hot you fall asleep within minutes after.''
It was kind of ridiculously adorable to Brittany. That time they snuck into the empty choir room and ended up screwing against the piano, Santana totally wanted to pass out like five seconds after her orgasm. Brittany was pretty sure the only reason she didn't was because they barely had enough time to recover before Kurt and Mercedes came flouncing in while having some loud discussion. The two were on about how they were going to the mall after school to find Mercedes a new church hat, which of course drew Brittany into the conversation because, you know, hats. While Santana pretended not to nap on on her shoulder Brittany had ended up having an hour long conversation with her two friends that ended with her accepting an invitation to join them for Sunday service at church. In all honesty, she and Kurt had mostly attended to check out the crazy elaborate church hats the ladies in the congregation liked to wear. It was like a Lady Gaga concert up in there. But the point: Santana couldn't keep her eyes open, even after almost being caught in public by their friends.
And that time in Quinn's bed? Santana was out like a light once they were done and her head hit the pillow. San's sleep was so deep she hadn't even noticed that Brittany had actually opened the door and poked her head out to talk to Quinn briefly. She had warned the shorter blonde to leave them be for an hour or she'd take her revenge when Santana woke up by making sure they did it on every single article of clothing Quinn owned. Which okay they kind of did anyway after said nap because Brittany got to thinking that while Quinn's dresses made Q look like a sad, repressed 1950's housewife they would in turn actually make Santana look like a really hot 1950's housewife. In her head she saw Santana with her hair up, apron on, bent over a stove in heels that screamed fuck me. Yeah, Brittany had been all over that when Santana woke up. ''No, no,'' Brittany had urged in a seductive whisper while comically wiggling her brows, ''leave the broach on'' she said then before sliding her hand under the retro skirt Santana had slipped into later that evening after they'd swiped it from Quinn's closet.
Back in bed under the lighted art that mostly looked like a couple of weird little squiggles to Brittany, she laughed, ''Why are you denying that you get sleepy after sex?''
''Uh, because it's not true,'' Santana scoffed.
''Really?''
''Yes...I mean no...I mean whatever.''
''Awwwww,'' Brittany let out a little squee, ''you're even doing it now! You're starting to do that cute little slow-blink thing that means you totally want to take a nap.'' She reached over to scratch behind one of Santana's ears with a finger as if she were a cat. ''It's like you're some tiny baby kitten.''
''Tiny baby wuh?''
''Kitten.''
Santana tried to lightly bat her hand away. ''Stop that.''
''Nope,'' Brittany chirped.
''And I'm not a baby kitten.''
''Sure, you're not.''
''If I'm anything I'm like a total badass panther or something.''
''Of course you are.''
''And badass panthers don't just doze off or whatever.''
''Uh huh.''
''And they certainly don't submit and roll over to get their bellies rubbed,'' Santana said through a yawn.
''You're so right.'' Brittany continued to sooth her with her hand.
''If I wanted to I could...I could even flip you over on your back for another go...''
''I know you could, baby.''
''...that's how...how awesome and, and... superior my stamina is.''
Brittany watched as Santana's speech started to slow while she fought to keep her eyelids open. Eventually no longer able to blink her post orgasm drowsiness away Santana submitted to slumber. Brittany studied the girl's sleeping form for a few moments, smiling in silence. She pulled the sheets up over them and gave the girl one last kiss to the jaw before positioning herself just so, so her head rested somewhere between Santana's shoulder and chest. Right there where she was able to listen to Santana's heart gently beating beneath her.
Human and flawed and beautiful.
''If you ask me kittens are way more cuddly than panthers,'' Brittany whispered to the sleeping brunette, being slowly lulled to sleep herself by the comforting pitter patter.
X
For Brian Kinney, there were many perks that came with being CEO of Kinnetic, one if not the most successful ad firms in the country. Wealth, notoriety, respect, awards, all good things, but when it came down to it the best thing about running his own company and being his own boss was that he could - whenever the need struck which was often - take a break from his day to fuck Justin senseless ten different way in all different kinds of places. In his office's private bath. Or in a deserted meeting room. Or in his new leather executive desk chair.
Or, in this instance, atop the sleek desk located within Brian's office in the Pittsburgh headquarters of Kinnetic.
But of course as good as Brian was at it no amount of screwing could make Justin forget if they were due for a Serious Conversation. When Justin had stopped in unannounced Brian had the bright idea to break the news that he had to work late mid-fuck as they rocked together on top of his desk. It was his thinking that it would soften the blow, so to speak. After going on for as long as he could Brian took care of Justin before finally allowing himself to find release. He collapsed in a heap atop Justin, both of them sweaty, exhausted and reeling.
''That was...fuck,'' Brian said, his body still vibrating, even as he slowly withdrew himself from the other man.
''That was incredible,'' Justin said, out of breath as he slowly propped himself up onto his elbows and watched as Brian took an unsteady step backwards to plop himself into his desk chair.
''You're telling me.''
After staring at a breathless and satisfied Brian for several long minutes the blonde man asked, ''Do you ever wonder if it's like this for other people...other couples...?''
''Like what?'' Brian asked, wincing ever so slightly as he pulled off and tossed away his condom.
''Like this. Electric. Uncontrollable.''
Brian shrugged wordlessly.
''Sometimes I think you and I are the only ones on earth who have this,'' Justin admitted, looking upwards as if in great contemplation. ''Everyone else wanders around thinking they know what sex is when in reality they don't because they're not us. How can anyone truly understand this but us. Like it's some secret between you, me and the universe.''
''I just fucked your blonde brains out...I don't know if that qualifies as kismet,'' Brian said dryly.
''It was more than that,'' Justin insisted. ''It's always more than that and you know it too.''
Brian inhaled deeply, unable to deny it or the grin breaking out onto his face. ''I do, and it was. It was great, it's always great, but not because of kismet or the universe...it's great because it's us. You and me. And fate has fuck all to do with it.''
''Ever the romantic.''
''You have a post-it note on your ass by the way.''
Still quite youthful Justin took little to no time to regain himself. He soon stood up from his spot on the desk and inspected himself, after finding and removing a bright blue post-it note stuck to the side of one of his cheeks he then stepped back into his pants. Brian smiled as he watched the blonde do an adorable little hop while buttoning himself up.
''Fated orgasms or not, don't think you're off the hook,'' said Justin.
''What hook?'' Brian asked innocently.
''You're bailing on dinner with me and my cousin,'' Justin reminded him.
Brian, who wore a tie and dress shirt but was naked from the waist down, made no effort whatsoever to cover himself as he responded, ''I'm not bailing, I'm postponing. A few things came up last minute.''
Looking amused Justin shook his head. ''Just admit it, you've been looking for a reason to bail on this since I asked you.''
''Look, I'm not going to lie I hate fucking teenagers-''
''If I recall correctly once upon a time you quite liked fucking this teenager,'' Justin made a small wave at his own face, ''all night in fact.''
''You know what I mean. And the thought of spending the evening with your teenage valley girl cousin-''
''She's from Ohio,'' Justin clarified, defending his family member from the harmless jab.
''Whatever, it sounds like a perfectly tedious evening, but I was more than happy to go along with it because you asked. But,'' Brian paused briefly as he stood and buckled himself back into his dress pants, ''that was before Cynthia informed me there are a few things I need to sort out and attend to before the end of the week and tonight just so happens to be the deadline for some of them. There's urgent papers being drawn up as we speak that'll be immediately messengered over regarding Kinnetic's buyout of Vanguard; I need to look over them. Plus Theodore said he had some things he needed to go over with me about Babylon's upkeep.''
''And he can't do that on his own?''
''He could, but he's Theodore,'' Brian said, screwing up his face.
''Exactly. He's practically your right hand when it comes to running Kinnetic.''
''Yes, but as far as Schmidt's come in the last few years, the man still occasionally wears bowling shirts and don't even get me started on his collection of jean shorts which he refuses to get rid of. He knows how to make decisions when it comes to numbers and Kinnetic, not when it comes to style or throwing parties and certainly not when it comes to what's right for Babylon.''
Justin nodded, understanding, but still looking crestfallen as well.
The truth was Brian was really only in a rush to sort those final matters out as quickly as possible so his schedule could be cleared completely for the coming month which would provide him with more time for the blonde man. Still, he hated to see the disappointment on the other man's face, a face he was so used to seeing lighting up the room. Brian moved towards him, snaking a hand up to soothe blonde hair.
''I'm sorry, Sunshine, but we'll have to reschedule that dinner.''
''I get it,'' Justin sighed, accepting the affection as Brian nuzzled his ear. ''It's okay. It's just I really wanted you to meet her. She's important to me.''
''Is this the one you made me go watch at some fucking singing competition a few months ago?''
''Brittany, and it was a show choir competition, and yes.''
''Show choir,'' Brian repeated, his face contorting into a repulsed expression. ''I still can't believe you talked me into going to that. It was the single gayest experience of my life...and that's coming from a man who just had his dick in your ass.''
''Shut up,'' Justin laughed, and Brian delighted in having chased his brief frown away. ''She was really good!''
''She was,'' Brian raised a shoulder and admitted with reluctance. ''Her part was probably the only enjoyable thing about it. Way more entertaining than that song her team started off with - you know, that pedestrian ballad between the girl with the nose and that guy who looked like he was shitting himself when he sang.''
Justin dipped his head in pride. ''Britt is incredibly talented.''
''Mmm, well, it must run in the family then.''
''But she's also one of the few people who's always been in my corner through it all. Even though we don't see each other very often she's one of the most important people in my life. I want her to meet you.''
''And I will, just not tonight.''
''Okay then how about this, instead of taking the whole evening off, you just take an hour or two out of your night, tops, to have dinner with us and then afterwards you can go back to work. Just a quick bite at the diner, that's all. Please.''
Justin looked at him with those pure, bright blue eyes and in that second Brian knew there was no saying no. As hard as he tried, as firmly as he fought it, Brian had never quite developed a defence against those eyes.
''Come on,'' Justin playfully pleaded, ''I'll let you blow me in the car on the way there.''
''Who says I even want to?'' Brian scoffed, as if the idea didn't interest him in the least when in reality it was very much one of Brian's favorite things in the world to do.
''You always want to.''
''Fine.'' Brian sighed in exaggeration. ''You do know how to negotiate a deal, Taylor.''
''Well, I did learn from the best.''
Brian took it as cue to step over and pick up the phone on his desk. ''Cynthia,'' he said into the line as he grinned wolfishly at Justin, ''have someone bring my car around. No, no driver today. One of my personal vehicles, yes, the Stingray will do. Justin and I are going for a little drive.''
Justin beamed sweetly in victory. ''I love that you'd do anything for me,'' he said in a teasing tone, as he had once before years ago.
When all was said and done, as much as Brian had once tried to fight it, what Justin had said wasn't untrue. Brian would do anything for him. At this point there really was no getting around it.
It was a little over two years ago that they parted briefly. Justin had set off to discover himself as an artist in New York, which left Brian alone in the city that was his church. If his life were a movie, book or tv show, that would've been the point where Brian shriveled up and died inside, but it wasn't and so he didn't. In the real world people had to learn to live without each other sometimes. It was life and there was nothing in this world Brian Kinney couldn't survive.
In the blonde's absence Brian continued on. He ran Kinnetic and maintained Babylon, he met up with the boys for drinks and snide remarks, landed a couple of million dollar accounts with little to no effort and had a few orgasms along the way. Life went on. He missed Justin, but he knew this was how it needed to be for the time being. It was vital that Justin have this time alone to himself and for himself, to explore, to fail, to triumph. To be the man he needed to be, to be the artist he needed to be, Justin had to experience the city alone. It was the only way.
Brian would never allow Justin to sacrifice who he was to make him happy, and Justin had refused to allow Brian to sacrifice his own identity just to please him as well. They parted not because they didn't care for each other, but because they cared too much. They loved each other enough to know when they needed to let each other go. Even if that meant never seeing each other again. Time and distance were no matter because Brian knew nothing in this world could ever diminish this thing they had built together. This bond. It was only time he had once said to Justin.
And it was.
In the end, it was only a year. A year apart. A year of phone calls and sporadic visits, longing and uncertainty until Brian woke up one day and realized that he had did all that he could do in Pittsburgh. He had ruled his territory and prospered, he had landed every deal he possible could, nailed every fuckable guy in his zipcode, but he knew there was more out there to explore, to conquer. Pittsburgh and Liberty Avenue would always have a very special place in his cold unfeeling heart. It was a world he would always belong to, but that didn't mean he had to stay still and grow stagnate. That wasn't for Brian Kinney. He could have been sensible and logical about it all, about expansion and slowly branched out cautiously, but Brian had never been one for practicality. If Kinnetic was going to expand, if he was going to succeed, if he was truly going to be the best he wouldn't do so by being reasonable or cautious. No half-steps. Win or lose, all or nothing, he was going to take the risk, and what bigger risk was there than New York.
If you believe in something strongly enough you have to be willing to risk everything for it.
Brian believed in Kinnetic. He believed in himself as a leader, an innovator of the ad world. He believed in his vision and himself. Yes. But he realized that more than all of those things put together, he believed in he and Justin the most. It was that certainty that drove him to take the biggest risk he would ever or could ever take.
One involving his heart.
It took some time making the proper preparations, locating a creative yet suitable work space and hunting down a new staff of up and coming talent but he did it. He was making the move that had been coming for years. The move that he had always put off for one reason or another. By then Justin had discovered himself as an artist and experienced the city and all it had to offer. His work had gained notoriety and acclaim, he'd had a few shows under his belt and was now, according to many, one of the city's most valuable sought after artists. Justin had come into his own on his own and Brian couldn't have been more proud.
After that year apart, when Brian finally came to stand on Justin's New York doorstep it was, on it's own, a silent statement: I'm ready, you're ready, let us begin. It took less than a second for Justin to understand and embrace him. Brian had always desired New York, even before Justin came along, but the timing had never quite been right. Pittsburgh had still needed him, he had still needed Pittsburgh. But those chapters were closed and he was finally ready to take the city and with Justin at his side they made New York theirs.
It was now almost a year since that kiss on that New York doorstep. And Brian Kinney finally had everything he'd ever wanted. His prince and this city.
He kept Kinnetic's Pittsburgh offices running, leaving Ted and his loyal assistant Cynthia in charge of managing the place. Brian had trained and mentored several ad men and women by that point who were happy to take the reigns as Brian himself went on to greener pastures. Once a month he would return under the guise of checking in on the Pittsburgh offices and to make sure Babylon was still running smoothly, but in actuality, though he was loathe to admit it, the majority of his visits were to make sure he maintained his ties to his true city, to the place that made him who he was. Staying in contact with their friends and the place they once called home was especially important to Justin who often accompanied him on these trips.
Earlier in the year when Brian brought up the idea of going on a month's long vacation Brian had thought they'd see Mexico, or maybe Hawaii, or perhaps France, he really had his heart set on fucking Justin somewhere exotic and far off, but Justin had set his heart on spending the entire month back home in Pittsburgh and even went so far as to invite his cousin out for the duration of it. Brian made a bit of a show, grumbling and huffing at the suggestion of taking their vacation in that god forsaken 'burgh and having to babysit a teenager to boot, but in the end he always made sure Justin got what Justin wanted.
Brian still had a few meetings to take and papers to sign, but after a couple more days his schedule would be completely clear to spend time with Justin, as well as their friends.
And so moments after hanging up his phone in his office, as the pair exited the building that was once the Liberty Bathes but was for the last few years home to Kinnetic's Pittsburgh offices they made for Brian's classic two seater car and slipped inside. Brian slipped in behind the wheel as Justin excitedly buckled up in the passenger's side.
''What are you doing?'' Brian asked.
''Buckling in,'' Justin answered slowly, as if he thought it was pretty obvious.
''Why?''
''You just said you'd have dinner with me and my cousin.''
''Yes,'' Brian said, leaning over the console and smirking confidently, ''but there were terms we agreed upon. I'm more than willing to fulfill my end of the bargain but first you have to fulfill yours.'' He punctuated the end of his sentence by placing a hand in Justin's lap and unzipping the younger man's pants. ''I hope you're not backing out, because that would really call your integrity into question. A deal is a deal, Sunshine.''
X
''Britt, are you sure this is the place Justin said he'd meet us?'' Santana asked and wrinkled her nose in disgust.
They had just stepped inside the Liberty Avenue Diner and while Brittany looked entertained by the warm, playful, chaotic atmosphere that buzzed with energy, Santana tried her best to hold her tongue.
And not because the place was openly, overwhelming gay-friendly. It had several tiny rainbow flags placed throughout and large marriage equality signs pinned up near the rear of the diner. Not to mention the two dudes in ridiculously revealing leather outfits who were sharing a piece of pie in a corner booth. No. That she took no issue with. What she did take issue with was the fact that it looked like a super lame version of The Peach Pit from the old-school 90210. Also it smelled totally funky and she couldn't even begin to express her distaste for the vomitty paint color on the walls or the revolting green booths that looked to be covered in body glitter, sweat and who knows what else.
She could handle the gay of it all, she just couldn't handle the gross of it all. It was so disgustingly pedestrian in every way. Just. So freaking charming.
''It has to be,'' Brittany answered after taking a few moments to look over the street address she had on a piece of paper. ''The driver said this is the only Liberty Diner in the city.''
After she and Brittany shared a rather interesting shower (and had managed to cross it - as well as the bathroom sink counter for that matter - off of Brittany's list) they had gotten ready for their evening out. Initially, the plan was for Justin and his boyfriend to meet them at the loft where they would all then depart, but moments after Brittany practically freaking mounted her against that counter they received a short apologetic text from Justin informing them that something very urgent came up. Instead of meeting them at the loft he said he was sending them a car and driver that would escort them to their destination and assured them that he would meet them as soon as possible. It was during the car ride that Santana watched the scenery change before her eyes. In the dark the loft's neighborhood appeared almost sterile and deserted, but a handful of blocks further that all changed. Through the glass window of the cab she saw how dark, lifeless streets turned into bright store fronts, restaurants and bars filled and brimming with loud, excited crowds pouring in and out of them.
In an instant everything turned to color. Everything came alive.
This was the Liberty Avenue Justin had mentioned earlier and their destination for the evening, Santana came to find, was some dinky, greasyspoon right in the middle of it all called The Liberty Diner.
''I just feel like this place is going to give me a rash. Like for real, Britt, I think if I sat down in one of those booths I might contract mange or something.''
''First of all, cats and dogs get mange, humans get scabies. Second of all, this place is kinda cute if you ask me.''
Santana shivered in overly dramatic repulsion. ''Can we please wait outside?''
''We were waiting outside, you were the one who insisted on coming inside because some drag queen on the street started complimenting your eye make up. You wanted to come inside, so now we're inside.''
''Yeah and now I want to go back out.''
''Let's just sit and wait for bit,'' Brittany pleaded, pulling her towards the counter and silently encouraging Santana to join her as she climbed atop a stool. ''If they don't show in fifteen minutes we'll call and make sure this is the right place, okay? But for now I'm like super hungry and I totally need something to nibble on.''
''Fuh-ine.''
Santana exhaled with exaggeration, resigning herself to the idea because between the three rounds in bed and the two rounds in the bathroom she knew Brittany had to be famished seeing as how Santana had made it her mission to make the girl come again and again until she couldn't see straight. Truth be told Santana was even feeling a little peckish herself and as incredibly put off by the diner's decor as she was she couldn't deny that whatever they had cooking in this joint smelled damn delicious.
''Maybe we can split something small,'' Brittany suggested and made a grab for the menu in front of her which she then began to study. ''Ooo, they have pigs in a blanket!''
Relaxing a bit Santana gave the place another unimpressed once over, still finding it all very unappealing. After a few minutes she came to focus on a figure at the other end of the diner. A short, somewhat stocky waitress with hideous red hair and the most unsightly outfit she had ever seen was cackling on the far side of the restaurant and was apparently the only employee working the floor at the moment.
''Yo, lady, can I get a cup of coffee over here?'' Santana hollered at the older woman who was actually in the process of taking another's order. The woman made no response which only spurred Santana to try again with ''Hey, Flo, I'm talking to you! Can I get some service here?''
The waitress who had been all smiles to the customer she had been conversing with abruptly turned to Santana with a glare. The woman had definitely heard her this time, still she took her sweet time checking on other patrons and placing a few bills on tables before she confidently strided over back behind the counter to stand right in front of the girls.
Santana huffed, ''about time.''
''Excuse me,'' the woman looked at Santana and snapped her gum. ''What did you just say?''
''Cute! Buttons!'' Brittany looked up from her menu which she had been previously engrossed in once she caught sight of the waitress' work vest. A work vest that happened to be completely covered in buttons. Really gay ass buttons.
Santana smiled wickedly as she and the waitress continued to stare each other down. This, Santana could tell, was going to be fun. Yes, she was more than willing to be kind and sweet and the perfect guest for Justin, but that's where she drew the line. She wasn't about to take lip from anyone else.
''Uh, I think I said I wanted a cup of coffee,'' Santana sneered, ''like, oh, twenty minutes ago, but I can understand how you didn't hear me over that loud bozo the clown dye job you got going there, grandma. Now coffee, black.''
''Say please,'' the woman said in a tight, clipped tone that failed to intimidate Santana, who wasn't about to concede or make any apologetic pleasantries and only responded with a mirthless laugh. ''I don't know where you come from, missy, but around here we use words like please and thank you.''
''Huh, well, where I come from, which is a little place called Lima Heights-''
''Santana,'' Brittany warned gently.
'' -Adjacent, we use words like fu-''
''You have to excuse her,'' Brittany jumped in and looked apologetically to the waitress, ''she's just being a meanie because she's hungry, right San?''
''No, not really.''
''Hey! Maybe you'd be kind enough to help us,'' the blonde quickly changed course and produced a piece of paper which she handed over to Bozo The Waitress along with a sweet, pleading smile. ''We might possibly be lost. This is the address here, right? We're at the Liberty Diner?''
''The one and only,'' the older woman said, letting her demeanor soften a bit.
''Well, that's great,'' Santana grumbled, ''when your cousin said he wanted to take us out to dinner I assumed he meant to a nice reputable restaurant, not this hole in the wall.''
''Hey,'' the waitress snipped though she didn't sound nearly as gruff as she had moments before, in fact she seemed quite proud and jolly as she informed them, ''this hole in the wall just so happens to be a Liberty Avenue institution I have you know.''
''I've only spent about five minutes in this neighborhood, but this Liberty Avenue, what is it? Like a gay Sesame Street,'' Santana snarked.
Before the older woman could reply, Brittany blinked rapidly like some adorable Disney creature and interjected once more. ''I like your button collection by the way...Debbie.'' She paused to read the woman's name tag.
The waitress, Debbie, looked pleased with the compliment. ''Why thank you, sweetheart.''
''How did you get so many of them?'' Brittany asked and leaned in a few inches to inspect them a little more closely with child-like wonder. ''I love learning about people's collections. I think collections say a lot about who people are on the inside. Me? When I was younger I used to collect My Little Pony toys. I had shelves of them, but then my cat started stealing them one by one until one night me and my little sister did a stake-out and found where he was taking them. It was like a graveyard of My Little Ponies in our backyard. After that we put him in some intense therapy and I stopped collecting altogether. Plus, by that time bronies started being a thing and it just put the nail in the coffin of my whole My Little Pony experience. But I love your button collection! That one is so funny and that one is so cute and that one is just hah! There's so many. The one with the unicorn with the rainbow mane is my favorite.''
Santana turned and studied the older woman and waited for her reaction. She'd had years of experience and had always found that people usually reacted one of two ways to Brittany's unique mind. They either found her delightfully quirky and welcomed it or regarded her as...well, queer; strange and eclectic. There were more than a few times where people who saw Brittany as the latter were eager to treat her as a target for taunting and manipulation; Santana had been there each and every time and each and every time that person walked away fully aware of what kind of wrath they could expect again if they ever thought about hurling the words 'stupid', 'slow' or 'freaky' in Brittany's direction a second time. Believe it or not, Santana never really took joy in tearing people a new one in those instances, but she knew it had to be done. She would always protect Brittany.
And so sitting atop her stool Santana waited to see which side of the fence this Debbie lady here fell on. If need be she would get the claws out and decimate the woman with her words though she hoped it wouldn't come to that as Brittany had obviously taken a liking to the waitress.
''You, little lady,'' Debbie said and reached over the counter to playfully pinch one of Brittany's cheeks, ''have to be the most precious thing I have ever seen in my entire life.''
Santana unsuccessfully tried to fight the small, closed mouth smile from forming on her face. When you fell on this side of the fence, the side that found Brittany wonderfully peculiar and interesting, you always fell hard.
''Just for being so damn adorable,'' Debbie screeched, suddenly full of mirth, ''here's a lemon square on the house.''
The waitress slide a plate of dessert in front of Brittany who clapped and gave thanks before taking a bite and moaning in delight at the tasty treat.
''Hey, where the hell's my lemon square, huh?'' Santana huffed at the older woman. ''I can be a fuckin' angel too you know.''
''No, you're a little shit is what you are,'' Debbie said with a loud, hearty laugh. Her eyes were warm with an almost motherly like affection. ''But you're a hilarious little shit, I'll give you that.''
Debbie produced another lemon square and placed it in front of Santana who smirked and dipped her head in gratitude; the two achieving a kind of silent cease-fire in that moment. ''Not bad for a hole in the wall,'' Santana spoke with her mouth half full of the spongy cake.
''More than not bad, our lemon squares are god damn delicious,'' Debbie happily declared with pride and utter conviction. ''Anyhow, you two must be new to the area. I don't think I've ever seen you around here before.''
''I'm visiting some family in the city and San's kind of along for the ride,'' Brittany chirped as Debbie went about setting a cup of coffee in front of Santana and a cup of milk in front of Brittany without any prompting. ''I'm Brittany by the way and this is my... um...Santana.''
''Well, I'm Debbie and let me be the first to welcome you both to Liberty Avenue,'' Debbie produced yet another loud happy cackle.
''It seems like a really cool place,'' Brittany said kindly.
''Why are there condoms mixed in with the Sweet N Low packets?'' Santana wondered allowed as she poked about in the tiny container looking for sugar to add to her beverage.
''Oh that?'' Debbie said, waving a hand at it dismissively. ''We make it a point to have plenty of rubbers available around here. Gotta keep Liberty Avenue a safe place, ya know. Keep it.''
Santana had never had an adult be so blunt and nonchalant about contraceptives or the idea of sex in general. It was...whatever. ''Um, no thanks. I always have an allergic reaction to the flavored ones anyway. '' Santana tossed the square packet aside, scrunching up her nose as she did so.
''You know, now that I'm thinking about it,'' Debbie continued as she supplied a proper canister of sugar from behind her counter and slid it over to Santana, ''Liberty Avenue is kind of like a gay Sesame Street. Everything's really bright and colorful and wonderfully whimsical and it does seem as if I'm always handing out life lessons each week. Except instead of Cookie Monster and Oscar hanging out at the end of the block, you'll find drag queens and leather daddies. Also, we don't have Letter Of The Day segments so much as Trick Of The Day segments.''
Santana smirked from behind her cup of coffee, amused by Debbie's crass sense of humor. ''Bert and Ernie would still probably fit in though I'm guessing.''
''Probably,'' Debbie chuckled.
''When I was six Bert and Ernie were like my OTP before I even knew what an OTP was,'' Brittany randomly added and took a sip from her glass which left her sporting a milk mustache. ''Even after all these years I still totally ship it.''
Amused, Santana shook her head at the sight while Debbie snickered nearby. ''You got a little...'' Santana pointed at her own face, silently trying to signal to the corresponding area on Brittany's, but the blonde just blinked on oblivious. Santana then decided it was just easier to quickly reach over to wipe it away with her thumb, but the funniest thing happened when she tried. Before she knew it and without her even noticing she found herself gently cradling one side of Brittany's face with her palm as her thumb slowly stroked against the cupid's bow of Brittany's lips, even after the milk had been wiped away. Unabashedly Brittany leaned into her; a slight blush warming her skin. In that second they were both momentarily lost in this small but delicate touch.
They didn't do this very often in public anymore, not since before there was something there to risk. They used to do it all the time, touch each other in public. Gentle stroking of one's hair, the hooking of their arms as they walked McKinley's halls. The way Santana would lean in and rest her head contently on Brittany's shoulder. The way Brittany would pull Santana's bare legs into her lap and slowly run her hands along the silky, smooth skin. No matter how slight, subtle or seemingly innocent there was always something electric about the way they touched.
It had been one of the things taken away from them. Now, it was one of the things they were working towards getting back. These touches, these moments, these displays of affection carried a weight to them now more than ever.
''I don't know about any of that,'' Debbie said, unknowingly interrupting their quiet moment as she went about wiping down menus behind her counter, ''as much as I believe that all Muppets are created equal I don't think I could ever root for Bert and Ernie.''
''Why?'' Brittany asked as Santana withdrew her hand from her lips.
''I'm just not so sure they would make sense together,'' Debbie supplied.
''Maybe not, but like, when does love have to make sense,'' Brittany countered, gathering herself and containing her reaction to being touched in such a tender manner in public.
The older woman took it into consideration for a few silent seconds. ''That's true. You gotta admit it though, Bert's an asshole, honey.''
''Weeeeellll, yeah,'' Brittany conceded, getting more drawn into the conversation, ''but that's who Bert is, it doesn't mean he's a bad person, er, Muppet.''
''Does it not though?''
Now recovered from the small, sweet display she showed Brittany and thankful no one had made mention of it, Santana squinted at the other two. ''Are we seriously talking about whether the hypothetical romantic relationship between two gay Muppets is emotionally healthy or not?''
Neither Debbie nor Brittany thought to answer her, they were now too engrossed in their friendly debate.
''In my experience and believe me, girls,'' said Debbie, ''I have had plenty of it, the assholes of the world never change.''
Brittany, looking suddenly weirdly invested in this, remained unshaken in her support of said love. ''Exactly, that's the whole point.''
''Which is what exactly?'' the older woman asked, intrigued.
''Ernie accepts all that Bert is and Bert accepts all that Ernie is,'' said Brittany. ''And let's face it, Ernie can be a bit of a spacey goof who does silly things that make no sense whatsoever, he's not perfect either. But it isn't about changing each other other or making apologies, it's about acceptance. Loving someone flaws and all. Everyone likes to say that love changes you but I don't think it's supposed to. Real love doesn't need to because...because real love would never require you to sacrifice who you really are. Whether you're a lovable goofball like Ernie or a ticking time bomb like Bert. Love is just letting you be who you were always meant to be.''
Debbie dipped her head and smiled in silent acknowledgement of this quietly profound thought from Brittany.
''It might not be the easiest kind of love, but it's the best kind of love,'' insisted Brittany, her eyes smiling with certainty.
Debbie nodded. ''I suppose even assholes need love to.''
''I think they need it the most,'' Brittany said as she caught Santana eyeing the last of her lemon bar. Without a word she slide it over to her in offering.
Silently Debbie looked at them both in turn for a moment as if studying them, reading them. ''You're one smart cookie, kid,'' she said to Brittany.
''My best friend is always trying to tell me that.'' Brittany glanced over at Santana.
Santana didn't really get what the other two were on about or why Britt was being all defensive about Bert and Ernie's Muppety love affair, but she was glad to see Brittany making friends with the open-minded waitress. Plus if it meant Brittany could score them more free lemon squares...
''So,'' Debbie said loudly, changing the course of conversation and pulling a pencil from behind her ear and tapping it against a small notepad, ''is there anything on the menu I can get for you girls? Soup, burger, sandwich? How about a slice of warm apple pie, huh?''
''It sounds delicious,'' Brittany said, touching her flat tummy, ''but those lemon squares should hold me over for a bit. I don't want to spoil my dinner too much. That family I said I was visiting, well, I was supposed to be meeting 'em here.''
''Oh?'' Debbie inquired.
''Yeah,'' Brittany responded. ''Only, he texted me that something unexpected came up and he'd be late, but he should be here any minute now I'm sure.''
''That was like an hour ago though,'' Santana added, puzzled herself by Justin's tardiness.
Brittany worried aloud. ''It's just so not like Justin to be late or bail unless there was a really good reason.''
It was rather hard not to notice the piece of gum Debbie had been chewing on throughout their exchange fall out of her mouth, which was now currently hung wide open.
''Ho...ly...fuck,'' Debbie said, more to herself than either of them.
''Erm, sorry?'' Brittany asked, taken back.
''Oh, sorry, sweetie,'' Debbie said with a shake of her head. ''It's just, what did you say your last name was again?''
''I didn't. It's Pierce though,'' Brittany said, confused by the inquiry.
''Why?'' asked Santana.
Debbie blinked awkwardly. ''Nothing. I just had a crazy thought is all. For a minute there I thought you might be related to one of my boys but I'm afraid I don't know a Justin Pierce, just a Justin Taylor.''
''That's my cousin!'' Brittany exclaimed, looking quite thrilled over this found connection. ''We're related through our moms, they're sisters, but he has his father's last name: Taylor.''
''You're related to Justin? Justin Taylor?'' Debbie questioned, perplexed at this for some reason. ''My sunshine?''
''Sunshine?'' Santana pondered.
''Is he like a regular or something?'' Britt asked.
''You could say that. Course after all the years I've known him I've come to consider him one of my boys. One of my sons. Christ!'' Debbie shouted as she squinted at Brittany in observation, ''now that I'm looking, the family resemblance is fucking uncanny.''
''That's what everyone says,'' Brittany remarked.
''So, like, since you know him so well or whatever do you have any idea what might have held him up?'' Santana asked, scarfing down the last of Britt's lemony treat which she had to admit to herself was freaking amazing.
''He said something urgent came up and I'm a little worried,'' said Brittany.
''Oh, I'm pretty sure I know what came up...or rather who came up to be more precise,'' Debbie said under her breath.
Then, as if on cue the door to the diner opened and in stepped Justin who happened to be accompanied by a tall, handsome mysterious looking man. It was at this moment for some unknown reason that Santana felt a strange, inexplicable shiver run through her as she studied the man's face...but then that shiver could've just been the scabies setting in.
Nevertheless, she couldn't take her eyes off of him.
Santana tried to put a name to it. It was an odd, eerie sense of recognition, deeper and more unsettling than simple deja vu. There was something there, something about him that made her take immediate notice. Something in his severe and withholding expression, in his smug, superior sneer, in that look of total and complete disinterest. He was just somehow...familiar.
The man caught her gaze and gave her the tiniest, cockiest, most arrogant smile and without completely understanding why a strange uneasy feeling began to form in her gut. She felt like someone had walked over her grave...and then proceeded to piss all over it, the feeling was that foreign.
''Girls,'' Justin began, ''I'd like you to meet my boyfriend, Brian Kinney.''
X
To anyone out there, thank you for reading. Thoughts?