A/N: so did anyone else's heart go all pitter-pattery when the QaF cast talked about being game for a QaF revival at the ATX panel and urged people to petition Netflix?
Writing 'it was love to me' has pretty much taken over my life and it's my personal headcanon that Brittana and Britin do exist within the same universe. So when I saw those articles I almost died because for a split second I thought 'ohmahgawd, we'll get to see Britt and Santana again-oh wait, no, my fanfiction is not canon.'
Anyhow, I wasn't planning to post this week, but I came down with a nasty cold and have been feeling pretty low because of it and I thought I'd cheer myself up by putting chapter 8 out into the universe.
Finally, I don't know if anyone is paying mind to the lyrics in each chapter, but I kind of have a few playlists for this story that I listen to. A general one, one for when I need to write Brittany-Justin and another when I need to get into Brian-Santana mode. Madonna's Superstar is on my Britt-Justin playlist; how adorable would it have been if Brittany had sang this for Santana on the show. Seriously, listen to that song and tell me Britt getting her dance on to it wouldn't have cute/hot/amazing.
X
you're my gangster, you're like Al Capone
you're like Caesar stepping onto the throne
you're Abe Lincoln, cause you fight for what's right
you're my angel, bringing peace to my life
you're my superstar, I love the way that you are
- Madonna
X
''Holds up, wait, are you for real?''
Santana was cracking up in a booth at the Liberty Diner as she sat across from Ted and Michael as well as Emmett who was in the booth behind the men and peeking over the seat barrier so that his head was between his two friends.
She stared at Michael baffled, ''your mother is Debbie...and your father is a drag queen?''
''Divina Devore and she's a legend,'' Ted clarified.
''I'm half Italian and half drag queen,'' Michael confirmed with a straight face. ''What's it to you?''
Santana smirked but before she could make a devilish reply Emmett piped up with ''It's in his DNA - drag queen - quite literally. He used to be too embarrassed to march in Pride but this once Teddy and I convinced him to don a gown and go for it. I did his make up myself.''
Santana emitted machine gun laughter, Ted and Emmett giggled along with her. Michael gave everyone a little scowl before announcing ''shut up all of you and also I looked damn good so laugh all you want.''
''He did work it,'' Ted said, lifting his coffee in salute.
Pleased with that Michael turned back to Santana. ''Anyway, why are you here? Who invited you to our booth? And get your own breakfast,'' he made to lightly tap her hand away when she stole a piece of bacon from his plate. He looked to the ceiling and closed his eyes as he shouted ''Mom!'' in exasperation.
From the other side of the diner Debbie turned away from a customer to holler back ''PLAY NICE!'' in warning to him.
Michael deflated in his seat and Santana delighted in his sad pouting. ''Calm yourself, hobbit, geez,'' she said. ''I'm only here because my girl Britt - '' she made a nod towards Brittany who was flicking through the selection of the jukebox in the corner of the diner ''said you guys reminded her of Alvin and the Chipmunks, she thinks you're funny for some reason, hell if I know why. She had her heart set on hanging out and whatever Brittany wants...Brittany gets. So we're all going to sit and have breakfast and smile and if she decides that she wants you three to burst out into a random ass high-pitched chipmunky musical number you're gonna do it. Hear?''
The three then blinked at her in silence. They were all significantly older than her. They were all well established and successful. They had, through the years, weathered personal storms and private heartaches and become able, articulate, strong men in their own ways and on their own terms. They were their own people...but Santana's intense stare and wicked tone had them suddenly reverting to toddlers in their seats, nodding obediently to her warning.
Emmett raised his finger. ''Though, I just want to note that I'm the Alvin of this trio.''
''Excuse me,'' Michael tutted. ''I'm clearly the Alvin here.''
''Well I'm certainly not Simon,'' Emmett said.
''You're more of a Theodore,'' Michael attempted to be helpful. ''Ted's the Simon.''
''Why do I have to be Simon? I'd rather be Theodore,'' Ted conceded. ''Besides it'd make sense for me to be Theodore. Ted - Teddy - Theodore. It is my name.''
''But it's not your personality,'' Emmett reasoned. ''You're the Simon, Michael's the Theodore and I'm the Alvin.''
''And you're all pathetic,'' Santana said with a slight fondness.
Madonna's Music began playing as Brittany came back to plop herself at Santana's side in the booth. She bounced into her seat and stole a piece of bacon from Michael's plate. It, unfortunately, was the last one. Michael threw his fork down in petty yet comical frustration gave up on actually enjoying his meal and pushed it away. Ted happily slide it over to himself to dig into the left overs.
''Ohh,'' Emmett exclaimed in appreciation. ''I love this song.''
Brittany agreed in solidarity. ''Totally. Music's one of my favorite albums.''
Santana tilted her head. ''But Ray of Light is like way superior.''
''I guess,'' Brittany said, ''I probably like Music more because it takes me back. My mom used to play that one all the time when I was a little girl.''
Michael scrunched up his face in confusion. ''Didn't that record come out, like, what, two years ago? How could you have been a little girl?''
Santana and Brittany exchanged glances before Santana laughed and informed him. ''Uhhhhh, that album came out when I was six.''
''Yeah,'' Brittany said, backing her up.
Emmett held out his phone for the other men to read the web page on it's screen. ''She's right...that album came out eleven years ago.''
''God, I feel ancient,'' sighed Ted.
''But Madonna's kinda beyond age - it doesn't matter how old someone is. Fourteen or forty-two. Who doesn't love Madonna,'' Emmett pondered.
Ted shrugged. ''I can't say I ever found her music all that interesting-''
''You shut your whore mouth, whore,'' Santana pointed a finger at him in mock anger.
Brittany blinked rapidly looking utterly confused, ''how can you not like Madonna? She's...she's Madonna.''
Ted bounced his head from side to side as he took a moment to swallow a piece of toast as well as formulate his thoughts. ''For whatever reason her music never spoke to me. I never really found an anthem in her, if you will. However I can appreciate and recognize that she is the most influential female recording artist of all time. A global cultural icon. There are certain defining figures in pop culture who come about and change everything. They become more than a pop star or heartthrob or momentary phenomenon, but an institution. A sign of social evolution. Most music critics and historians assert that there were two events in the history of music that altered the landscape. The arrival of The Beatles...and Madonna. In fact I even read an article in The Guardian recently where the writer suggested that Madonna herself is post modern art, the likes of which we will never, ever see again. Her music has never appealed to me but even as a non-fan I can respect the impact she's made.''
''Wow,'' Michael said, impressed with Ted's analysis of the pop star.
''It's kind of amazing when you think about it,'' Emmett mused as he looked to Santana and Brittany, ''you two have never known a world without Madonna.''
''For many she's always been there, a sign of glittering hope and sexual liberation,'' Ted added, looking to the girls as well, ''and for your generation she's been something of a guiding light. An almost otherworldly figure. Much like Oasis and Coldplay wouldn't exist had it not been for The Beatles, today's female music stars-''
''Gaga, Beyonce,'' Emmett interjected.
''-wouldn't exist if it weren't for Madonna. In some ways,'' Ted theorized, ''they're very much her daughters. Not to diminish them but they've never quite left a mark on the world on the same level. And you girls are young, so you have a whole lifetime to watch as other people come and go and try to take the reigns and push boundaries, now whether we see another figure succeed in making another massive lasting cultural impact remains to be seen. I for one don't think it'll ever happen again on the same scale comparable to Madonna.''
''I think it will,'' Brittany said, nonchalantly raising a shoulder.
Ted wrinkled his nose. ''It's highly unlikely. The arrival of Madonna came at a specific time in cultural history.''
''Oh my god, does he do this a lot?'' Santana stage-whispered to Emmett, who nodded sadly.
''Ted's kind of our guy when it comes to completely unnecessary lectures, I usually just replay old episodes of Tom and Jerry in my head until he finishes,'' Emmett stage-whispered back, cupping the side of his mouth as he did so as if that alone would prevent Ted from hearing him.
Ted paid them no mind and just carried on. ''...It was the dawn of MTV and the birth of the music video. People spent the 60's and 70's fighting for social change and we as a nation spent the 80's celebrating the freedoms won. Mostly by having copious amounts of drugs and/or sex. A lot of the 80's was about indulgence. That was a different world. We needed Bowie and Madonna and Bono to lead us through. The landscape of today's world is much different...I'm not sure this environment, with it's tumblr and twitter and selfies and constant self-congratulatory attitude is capable of creating and nurturing another world icon into existence. Once upon a time we needed these cultural figures to be our voice, for sexual liberation, for feminism, for equality, for social change to occur. But now? Now, what would or could any hypothetical icon stand for?''
''There's always something to stand for,'' Brittany said, ''and I know it'll happen again.''
Michael smiled at her. ''Yeah, how are you so sure?''
''Because you're sitting across from the next giant icon that'll change everything the world thought it knew,'' Brittany explained to him. ''Santana.''
The men snickered, though Santana could tell it wasn't in mean-spiritedness, but in harmless amusement. Because doesn't every girl dreams of becoming the next big thing, the next Madonna, just as every boy dreams of being the next Jagger? Who hadn't had rock star pipe dreams after all, they were a right of passage. She didn't take their laughter to heart because for the most part she actually thought them to be okay guys. Justin had vouched for them and that was enough for her.
''I'm sure,'' Ted chuckled and looked at them like they were toddlers.
''Well, when you begin your mission for world domination try to remember us little people,'' Micheal piped in, playing along.
''I dunnnnnoooo,'' Emmett sang, studying Santana, ''I could see it happening. She's got that sexy, sultry, mysterious thing going on.''
''Thank you, Emmett,'' Santana replied with a devilish smile, taking it all in stride, ''and for that you shall be spared unlike your friends here.''
''You know,'' Brittany said, clearly unamused with the other's amusement over her confident declaration, ''for your information Santana's the most talented person I know. You guys wouldn't be laughing if you'd ever heard her sing.''
''Why don't we,'' asked Emmett, patting both of his hands rapidly against the seat and producing a sort of drum-roll sound, ''Karaoke is tomorrow at Woody's. We should all go and you,'' he pointed at Santana, ''can show us what you got. That ways one day in the near future we can all say we saw you perform before you were a star. It'll be fun!''
''I'm game,'' Santana said.
''Totally,'' affirmed Brittany.
''I guess, why not,'' Michael said casually, and Ted nodded his head along as well.
''Then it's settled.'' Emmett clapped his hands and hopped up from his seat with his messenger bag in tow, ''I'll see you guys and gals later for drinks and bad cover music - fyi, I call everything Cher - but now I must be off, I have a massive sweet sixteen party to plan.''
''I'll walk out with you. I have a meeting in twenty,'' Ted said, standing up with his friend.
After Emmett and Ted said quick goodbyes and tossed waves in Debbie's direction the girls looked to Michael who was slurping his soda loudly.
''So, don't you have a job to rush off to?'' Santana asked, ''Or rather a bridge to guard. Don't you trolls work in shifts? What with labor laws and all that now.''
Michael checked his watch. ''I don't open my shop for another hour.''
Santana raised an eyebrow, suddenly interested. ''Shop?''
''Like as in store?'' Brittany asked.
''What do you sell? Handmade same-sex wedding cake toppers or something? Oh, I bet you like embroid things for a living. You seem like an embroider.''
Michael laughed. ''What? How does one seem like an embroider? And no, I don't. What, just because I'm a gay man and run my own business that must mean I have to own some fancy boutique that sells shoes or, or artisan soap or doilies, or, or whatever.''
''Do you sell shoes?'' Brittany looked excited at the prospect.
''Just so you know I own my own comic book store,'' he informed them.
''Why'd you have to get us all excited by mentioning shoes then?'' Santana asked. ''Cause that would've been a whole lot cooler, and not because you're gay, but because I love shoes. Do people even still read comics?''
''Sure they do,'' he answered with pride, ''lots. Comic book culture is nerd culture and nerd culture is very much in now, so really I'm on the cutting edge of things and you're on the outside if you can't see that.''
''I can see that you're a grown man wearing a Captain Astro watch,'' Santana dryly noted.
''Do you have any of those Powerpuff Girls comics?'' Brittany asked. Michael nodded and Brittany let out an adorable little squee and looked to Santana. ''Can we go?''
''I guess,'' Santana sighed, ''although we'll probably need a shower afterwards to get all of the lame off of us, but why not? Might be fun to see Michael in his nerd-habitat.''
X
''Who are they?''
''Mulder and Scully.''
''And who is that?''
''The Hulk.''
''And who's that?''
''Buffy.''
''And who's this?''
''Rorschach.''
''You sure do have a lot of dolls.''
Brittany studied Michael's collection of action figures that stood on display behind the register area of the otherwise empty comic shop. Santana, meanwhile, was laying in the small lounge area not too far away where a couple of small couches were placed for readers to relax. She was throwing a squishy light up ball up into the air again and again, waiting for Brittany to tire herself out.
''They're not dolls, they're action figures,'' Michael said to Brittany as he brought a handful of them down and allowed her to play with them.
''I never really got into this kind of stuff. Not that I think it's lame or whatever, I just never took the time.'' Brittany smiled down at a vintage looking Batgirl figure.
''Well, you'd be surprised at what you found,'' Michael insisted, ''sure, there's a lot of action and the element of fantasy is always there but there's a depth to these worlds, these universes. They say something.''
''My sister has been getting into Teen Titans, do you have anything with them?''
Michael squinted in thought. ''You know what, I do. Let me run to the back real quick.''
He scampered off into the rear of the store leaving Brittany to bounce on over to Santana. She plopped herself on the opposite side of the couch for just a moment before practically leaping to cover Santana's body with her own. She buried her head in Santana's neck and sighed contently. Santana couldn't help but melt at Brittany's ease and comfort as she gave her a full body hug lying atop the couch.
''Having fun?'' Santana asked.
''Some of this stuff is kind of cool, don't you think?''
''Not really. Sam tried to get me into some of this nerd stuff when we were dating. I never saw what the appeal was. He had this Batman shirt he really liked me to wear because it showed off my...''
Brittany picked her head up and wrinkled her nose at the mention of the blonde boy's name and Santana went quiet.
''Sorry,'' Santana sighed. ''What is it that you like about the stuff?''
''I'm not sure, but when you think about it what's the difference between Madonna and Lady Gaga and Wonder Woman or that Storm chick from X Men? Aren't they all trying to save the world...in really awesome costumes?''
Santana shrugged.
''Are you okay with earlier?'' Brittany asked. ''I didn't mean to put you on the spot like that. That whole karaoke thing the guys wanted to do, you don't have to.''
''What? Are you kidding? I'm so there.''
''I just really wanted Michael and Ted to stop laughing-''
''I don't think they actually meant anything by it though.''
''Probably not, but I just don't like it when people can't see how amazing you are.'' Brittany whispered into her ear, kissing it afterwards. ''Do you miss it; performing?''
She never quite got used to or understood Brittany's unwavering belief in her. ''Maybe a little.''
''How long has it been since you sang in front of someone?''
''Not since New York.''
''See, we so needed this. We can both wipe the floor with them and show Liberty Avenue how it's done - karaoke style.''
''And look amazing doing it too.'' Santana placed her hands on Brittany's hips and became suddenly preoccupied with how tight the girl's jeans hugged her every inch. One hand moved to cup her butt and squeeze which resulted in Brittany letting out a tiny happy squeak. ''These jeans make your ass look hot by the way.''
''You said that about the skirt I had on yesterday.''
''Well, it did.''
''The day before that you said the sandals I had on made my ass look hot too.''
''First of all, those were Michael Kors platform wedge sandals and they did make your ass look hot. There's like a science to it, when you wear heels or anything with lift something happens with your posture that makes your cute butt look even more fine. It's not my fault that you have a hot ass and everything you wear makes me want it.''
Santana's hand stayed put fondling her rear. Basking in the attention Brittany bit down on her lip. ''Someone's horny today.''
''I'm horny every day,'' Santana said as if it couldn't be helped. ''It's a serious medical condition, Britt.''
''Oh yeah. what's it called? P.H.S.? Perpetually Horny Syndrome.''
''Yes and you shouldn't laugh at my affliction here, you should want to help me.''
''And how would I do that exactly?''
Santana took a deep breath and then in a matter of fact tone spoke. ''Well, as of today there's no known cure for it, but there is a very popular treatment that many claim will relieve the major symptoms. It's radical but effective and it involves me fucking your brains out repeatedly and as soon as possible.''
''Didn't you already do that last night?'' Brittany teased.
''Hmmmmm, let's see,'' Santana pulled back from their embrace slightly to look at Brittany, as if inspecting her head. She gently turned Brittany's face to the side and squinted as if she were peering deep into the recesses of Brittany's ear. ''Nope, I still see some, I still spot some residual brain matter.''
Brittany giggled, delighting in the silliness. ''You want it now? Micheal could walk in...''
''Michael's so gay you and I could do the jitterbug naked and he probably wouldn't even notice, but no, yeah, maybe when you're done playing nerd-'' Santana laughed when Brittany gave her a poke in the side at the slight dig, ''you and I could go back to the loft...''
She trailed off in speech but her wandering hands made it clear what Santana was craving.
''I would normally totally be there for you in your time of need but I kind of have a date in a little bit,'' Brittany said apologetically.
''A what?''
''Not that kind of date. I talked Justin into doing an episode of Fondue For Two.'' Brittany went to bump her nose. ''I'll make it up to you after though.''
Santana's face fell adorably as she sighed deeply and feigned devastation. ''K. But if I die because I suffer from an attack that goes untreated, my death will be on your hands, I hope you know that.''
''Then this will have to just tide you over until later...''
Brittany moved to give her the sweetest little kiss that slowly blossomed into a gentle, hot little exchange. She opened her mouth and let her tongue wander into Santana's who eagerly accepted it. Santana paced herself, they were in a comic book store after all and anything more would have to wait until later. They parted only moments before Michael came strolling back in with a cardboard box which he placed on top of the small coffee table in front of them.
Santana straightened up, as did Brittany, but on Santana's part there was no knee-jerk reaction to push away or to put as much distance between them as possible as fast as possible. Liberty Avenue was different, she told herself. It's people were different.
Michael looked at them both. ''I actually found a few things you might like sitting around in the stockroom,'' he announced, unbothered by their closeness as he started pulling out several comics from the box. ''Feel free to take what you want.''
''Really? That's awesome. Thank you,'' said Brittany.
''No problem.''
Michael sat down in a chair nearby and watched as they both looked through the box. There was a decently sized stack of comics, a few of which Brittany happily flicked through. Santana, on the other hand, got bored pretty early on. She found an Iron Man figure and a Captain America action figure on a shelf directly behind her head and promptly adjusted them so that Ironman was boning Captain America who was on hands and knees. She proudly placed her handiwork on the coffee table and grinned wickedly when Michael caught sight of it.
They stayed for another half hour until Brittany's phone buzzed at her. ''It's Justin,'' she informed them as she started to stand and then looked to Santana. ''I have to go do this thing but I'll see you in a couple of hours. Try not to be too evil.''
''I can't promise anything,'' Santana said slyly.
''Bye, and thanks again Michael,'' Brittany then said to the short man as she placed a few comics into her bag.
''Hey, I'm happy any chance I get to introduce someone to the world of caped crusaders.'' He gave her a little salute.
She took one more lingering look at Santana before giving both she and Michael a small wave. Once she exited the building Michael turned back to Santana and smiled.
''And then there were two,'' he chirped, and Santana wondered if hitting him would be considered a hate crime.
He was such an annoying troll and just so very...Berry-like, with his big dopey grin and those puppy dog eyes and his apparent never ending supply of uncalled for and completely unnecessary enthusiasm. Just substitute comic books for Broadway and there ya had it. She didn't like hanging out with that loud teacup chihuahua back home and she really wasn't looking for a replacement in Michael.
''Yeah no,'' Santana said, standing up and straightening herself. ''Now that Britt's gone, I'm outta here. Your comic shop smells like sadness and desperation. I can't have that getting into my pores.''
''Uh-huh, sure.'' Michael said, rolling his eyes and looking unbothered by her sass. ''You know, if you gave some of these stories half a chance you might just get something out of them.''
''I doubt it.''
''Hey, anything is possible.''
''The hell it is.''
She gave him a single head nod as a goodbye and began making for the front door and it was there where she half collided with another person who was attempting to enter the store just as she was trying to exit it.
This person, of fucking course, was Brian Kinney.
''Never would have pegged you for a comic book nerd,'' he teased.
''I'm not. I had to collect some personal belongings from your dwarf friend over there,'' she motioned over towards Michael, ''so that the voodoo doll I'm making in his image will work properly when I do the binding spell. If he starts coughing up blood tonight you'll know why.''
''Thanks for the heads up, I'll keep an eye out for that.''
They gave each other smirks before shuffling around each other.
''What was she doing here?'' Brian asked once she was gone.
Michael shrugged. ''She and Sunshine the second wanted to see the shop. Oh, get this, a couple of nights ago they were at my mother's for dinner. Apparently she's taken a liking to them. Oh, speaking of Ma, I got a phone call from Melanie last night. She moved some work stuff around and it turns out she and Lindsey will be able to fly in for my mom's birthday shindig next week.''
''It'll be good to see Linds...and her husband.''
Michael rolled his eyes at his friend. Brian, meanwhile, walked around and stuck his hand in a candy jar, taking out a handful of them and pocketing them. Only picking out one to throw in his mouth for the time being as he walked around the counter and hopped up onto it. ''I'm bored. Wanna go catch a movie then?''
''Can't. I have work,'' the shorter man made a wave to the storefront. ''I want to get the shop ready for that afternoon rush we always get. What about your Sunshine?''
''He's busy with Brittany. I just watched them go off together.''
''Well, I don't know what to tell ya,'' said Michael, moving around the room tidying up, ''we're not all millionaires who can take an extended period of time off work. Some of us have day jobs.''
''I've seen your books, you know. You could afford to hire a clerk or two now.''
''Well, sure, but I like being hands on here every day. What can I say, I enjoy being surrounded by muscular caped crusaders.''
''That I can understand.''
''And anyway, if you really want a partner in crime for the day why don't you go catch up to Santana? You could hang out with her.''
''Fuck that shit,'' Brian laughed.
''Who knows, you might just discover you have a lot in common.''
''I...I have a lot in common with a seventeen year old cheerleader?'' Brian looked downright offended by such a comparison.
''What? Think about it. You're both rough around the edges alley cats who'll scratch the shit out of anyone who tries to get near them, but really at the heart of it you just want to be cuddled and told you're pretty.''
''Micheal?''
''Yes?''
''You're so pathetic.''
''You're my best friend too, Brian.''
X
''Santana lets you do that to her what?'' Justin squeaked in horror. ''That's disgusting, Brittany!''
''No, it's not!'' Brittany exclaimed. ''Have you ever tried it with Brian?''
''No, why would I? Ughhh!''
Together the two cousins walked down a city block, chatting away. Their conversation had somehow steered into sexual territory and they were currently in a friendly debate over who between them had the best, most adventurous sex life.
Brittany had always thought herself to be sexually liberated, free of convention or shame. Justin also felt similarly. Maybe it was a blonde thing, maybe it was just in their DNA, whatever it was, they both possessed a sort of eager, willing nymph-like quality in general, but they were never more eager, never more willing than when it came to sex with Brian and Santana respectively.
The funny thing Justin and Brittany discovered in their conversation is that oddly Brian and Santana were actually the more reserved ones. At least in their own way. Santana and Brian might think nothing of nonchalantly talking up their own sex appeal or flippantly throwing out unnecessary information about past casual sexual encounters...but when it came to Justin and Brittany, Brian and Santana were different. They kept that close to them.
Justin and Brittany however?
Well, they'd always felt more than just a bit of pride at their sexual relationship with their dark haired partners. They'd always found it hard not to brag and overshare with anyone and everyone willing to listen.
When it came to who between them had the best sex life Justin had been pretty confident that he and Brian couldn't be outdone but Brittany soon showed him she and Santana weren't out of this fight. With every wild, passionate account of his and Brian's lovemaking, Brittany was quick to toss in an equally adventurous account of her and Santana. Crazy positions and crazier locations, you named it, both blondes happily and proudly admitted to doing it.
That is of course until Brittany mentioned armpits, which took their conversation to an even weirder place.
Justin shook his head, baffled. ''You have the weirdest kink ever.''
''Hey,'' she said, ''I remember you gave me all the details about the night you lost your virginity, okay. Brian gave you a rimjob your first time. I don't see how you deem my kink any kinkier.''
''I don't, it's just - what is it that you find so appealing about armpits?''
''Not all armpits, just Santana's.''
''I get that she's beautiful, yeah,'' he conceded, ''but an armpit is still an armpit.''
''Hers are different though. They're like soft and smooth and her scented Secret deodorant smells like Starburst candy.''
Justin dusted his hands off and then held them up. ''Okay, I tap out, you win this.'' Brittany threw her hands up in victory and Justin laughed. ''Everyone's always on about how you look so innocent but you're pretty much the most perverted person I know and considering who my boyfriend is and my group of friends that's saying something.'''
''I'm going to take that as a compliment.''
''It was meant as one. Oh, here we are!''
He motioned and guided them into a doorway. They entered a rather rough looking building which was in fact home to Justin's art studio workspace which he had maintained and kept in order to store some of his larger works and unfinished pieces.
Unlike the loft this space wasn't exactly livable. The walls and floors were all cement. There was no trendy furniture or lush rugs, there were a couple of tables with tall stools, but that's as far as it went. It was very clearly a working space. One corner was filled with large canvases, a few of which were covered in plastic tarps to protect them, and all around were buckets of paint, cups of brushes and a few scattered sketches.
Brittany placed her messenger bag atop of the work table in the middle of the room and immediately went about situating the area just so. Placing the stools side by side, checking on the lighting of the room, dressing the immediate area with Justin's artwork and supplies until she finally pulled out her small camcorder and began setting it up on a shelf as she had no tripod available.
''So how does this work?'' Justin asked as he scratched the back of his neck. ''I only agreed to be a guest on your talk show because you threatened to show Brian pictures of when we were kids and went as Woody and Buzz Lightyear for Halloween if I didn't.''
''I don't know what you're so embarrassed about, you were a cute Buzz Lightyear,'' she teased. ''But it's simple really. We're just going to sit in front of the camera, I'm going to ask you a few questions, you'll answer and later on when I get back home to my computer set up in Ohio I'll edit it and get it all polished and then post it online.''
''I'm not going to have to eat any of that disgusting cheese am I?''
''Seeing as how this is going to be a special episode of Fondue For Two on location, there will be no craft service, sorry.''
''Thank god.''
After the space was prepared and everything was in it's place, Brittany and Justin came to sit atop of the stools with the work table directly behind them working as a sort of backdrop.
''Hello, America,'' Brittany smiled at the camera and began, ''I'm Brittany S. Pierce and today we have with us a very special guest, my favorite cousin, famed artist and former go-go-boy Justin Taylor.''
Justin grimaced and waved weakly at the camera.
''This episode is also special because it's taking place on location in Pittsburgh, Pennsylvania which according to my research is sometimes regarded as the 'Zombie Capital of the World' because George A. Romero has made it the setting of several films in his Night of the Living Dead series - Justin, with that in mind, have you ever personally met any zombies who call Pittsburgh home sweet home?''
''No, unless you count my friend Ted.''
''He does look really corpsey,'' Brittany said in realization and Justin nodded in agreement. ''Another interesting fact about Pittsburgh is it was actually home to another very famous artist, Andy Warhol.''
''It is,'' Justin grinned at the camera. ''Warhol was born and grew up here and we even have The Warhol Museum where you can find tons of beautiful, amazing works of art from him.''
Brittany tapped her chin as if in great thought. ''Has anyone ever told you that if you got a choppy haircut and put on sunglasses you would totally look like a young Warhol.''
''No.''
''Well, you do. So! I read that after his meteoric rise to fame Warhol became a bit of a figure on the New York nightlife scene, and seeing as how your career began and took off when you moved to NYC, have you've found yourself similarly drawn to the glitz and glamor?''
''I'm not going to lie New York has afforded me a lot of interesting experiences and yeah, the clubs and the scene and the parties were a small part of that but for the most part it really hasn't gotten to my head or changed me. Pittsburgh has a lot of of unique and quality things going for it but at the heart it's a very working class kind of community and coming from that I feel like I'm not as easily swayed by bullshit surface stuff- oh, crap, can I say bullshit?''
Brittany shook her head, feigning disappointment. ''I'm afraid I'm going to have to fine you for use of profanity.''
''Damn-I mean fuck-I mean damn,'' Justin nervously laughed to himself.
''You know, on another note, Justin,'' Brittany said slowly and carefully, ''I like to conduct my interviews with integrity and decorum and try to steer clear of sensationalistic topics-''
With a smile he shook his head at her claim, amused with her serious tone. ''Wasn't your last episode of Fondue For Two just a dramatic re-enactment? You used the entire show to accuse someone named Tina Cohen-Chang of once stealing your purple fuzzy top pen during English class.''
''That was investigative reporting, America needed to know the truth and she totally did steal my pen in class. But irregardless! What I'm trying to say is that I take journalism like mega super cereal, Justin, so it may be uncomfortable but I have to ask-'' out of nowhere Brittany produced an issue of Us Weekly which she opened to a specific layout, ''Just last month you and your way old boyfriend-''
''He is not that old!''
''-were spotted at Justin Timberlake's birthday bash rubbing elbows with all the big names. At one point you were photographed making Kanye West cry. Said photo which gripped all of America-''
''Mostly just tumblr. I think that pic became a meme.''
''-had many speculating. Would you like to take the time to clarify what transpired that night?''
''That...well, the answer is simple. He came over to say hi and tell me what a big fan he was of my work but I wasn't particularly interested in what he had to say because honestly I'm still not over what he did to Taylor Swift and I felt it was my duty on behalf of all blondes everywhere to tell him what a bitch he was.''
Brittany placed a hand over her heart. ''Blonde solidarity.''
''And then he started crying like a whiny little gay fish.''
''Fishsticks,'' she coughed into her hand.
''The paparazzi were around so of course they got a photo. That's pretty much it.''
Brittany looked to the picture where her cousin was reducing the douchey rap star to tears. ''Well, on behalf of all of America, I thank you, good sir. For one brief shining moment this photo united our nation, Kanye's tears are something we've waited years for.''
''It was an honor.'' Justin smiled and nodded his head about as if attempting to look humble with the silly praise she was heaping onto him.
''Next question...''
X
Still a little wound up from Brittany rubbing up against her Santana decided that rather than spend the rest of her afternoon cooped up in the loft she would venture out into the neighborhood on her own. More specifically the large fully equipped gym she and Brittany had passed several times in all of their walking about.
For the past several years Santana had made it a habit to get in at the very least six hours of exercise each week. She had herself on a rather rigid schedule but the trip had put a definite wrinkle in it and so far she'd only clocked in two and a half hours for her first week here and even that was just light cardio. While there was a large state of the art treadmill back at the loft it didn't have much otherwise and she really felt like she needed to work with weights after that fattening dinner at Debbie's house. Thankfully the neighborhood gym offered a free one month trial membership which was perfect as it would expire just as her visit ended.
She got a pass and with her gym bag in tow found her way to the locker room where after a quick change she emerged in her workout clothes. The building was actually quite vast with several rows of each kind of machine and as it was midday on a weekday it was fairly quiet. There were four or five different clusters of groups throughout the gym consisting of both men and women. Santana was rather grateful that no one was occupying the treadmill area as she stepped onto one in a line of neverending machines.
She popped in her earbuds, set up her resistance and incline level and began warming up. As she gained momentum and got into step she closed her eyes and lost herself briefly to the moment. Two songs into her workout she opened them again and immediately noticed that there was now a young woman on the treadmill to her right.
She smiled at Santana and looked directly into her eyes for a long moment before her gaze not so subtly travelled down to Santana's black sports bra, seemingly becoming preoccupied with what was inside of it. The girl didn't look too much older than her, maybe college aged as she did don a University of Pittsburgh tank top.
''Hi,'' the girl said.
''Um...hey,'' Santana offered hesitantly, pulling a bud out.
''Just warming up?''
''Yeah...just got here.''
''I've seen you here before, right?''
''Don't think so.''
''Are you sure?''
''Pretty sure.''
''Really?''
''Really.''
The girl eyed Santana up and down and back again. ''Mmmmm, well...if you need someone to show you around the gym I'd be more than happy to. Not that you need it...you've obviously spent a lot of time working on your body.''
Santana swallowed and found her mouth suddenly dry. ''I think I'm good but...thanks.''
She turned back to the display on her machine, not quite sure what that overly eager offer was about. Even though she usually hated being crowded when at the gym a part of her breathed a sigh of relief when out of the corner of her eye she saw a figure step onto the treadmill to her left. At least now she wasn't alone with the smiley girl, she thought.
Of course that sense of ease went away when she looked over and saw that it was another young woman at her side. Another young woman who Santana quickly noticed was also giving her pointed looks.
''Hey there,'' treadmill girl no.2 greeted.
Santana gave her a head nod and an awkward smile in response before turning the other way back to treadmill girl no.1 who was still staring at her. Sandwiched between them Santana shook her head, a little perplexed as to what exactly was going on but she tried not to dwell on it. She came here to workout and that's what she was going to do, focus on her task and move herself. She picked up the pace and turned up her music.
Forty five minutes later, several miles in and a dozen or so loaded glances from each of the treadmill girls, she finally pressed stop. She and her machine came to a halt and she turned around only to notice that sometime during her run a group of young women had gathered behind her on a set of machines. Some of them were half-heartedly working out, but all of them had clearly been watching her very closely. When she caught sight of them they smiled in unison, batting their lashes at her.
This was new, Santana thought, as she started off to another machine.
And so it went for the next hour and a half, fifteen minutes here, thirty minutes there, from machine to machine she found herself surrounded by girls at every turn. Girls who asked if she needed help with her machine, girls who offered her drinks of water, girls who brushed against her ever so slightly in passing, girls who seemed to be very interested in getting into her personal space.
Some would simply hang back and watch from afar but with every move to a new machine one or two would get up the nerve to come sit or stand beside her. Some attempted small talk, most seemed to be happy enough with the view she was providing. She felt their eyes on her body and...it wasn't an entirely unpleasant experience.
She knew how to handle stares from interested guys, but girls? That was different.
Santana had never had this kind of attention before from other girls, or at least not in this obvious, overt way. She'd never been the object of affection or desire to a gaggle of girls. Girls who, Santana noticed, were actually way hot. They were all total gym bunnies too, everything about them was tight and toned and fuck was she still horny. Why did Brittany have to leave her hanging like that? She'd be lying if she said the attention wasn't a little flattering, it was, and perhaps even a tiny bit thrilling.
By the time she finished and made her way to the locker room the group of ogling girls had thinned out. It was when she was pulling out her bag from a locker that treadmill girl no.1 and no.2 approached her. Both of them wearing short towels and looking fresh from showers.
She found herself staring at their bare legs for an inordinate amount of time. They had perfect calf muscles that put her in a temporary daze until she blinked and realized they were trying to talk to her.
''We were just talking about how you looked really good out there,'' treadmill girl no.2 began.
''Really hot,'' no.1 added with a slinky flirtatious smile.
Santana swallowed, uncertain of how to respond, but the girls didn't seem too bothered by her silence. They pressed on in speech, smiling at Santana in a way that made her feel completely naked.
''And that we hope you make this gym your new home. It's always great to see new members come in who already have such dedication and knowledge about the physical form.''
''Yeah and if you ever want a, um, work out buddy I'm always available.'' No.1 pulled a hand out from behind her back to produce a small slip of paper which she pushed into Santana's palm. ''Feel free to call me any time, day or night. And-'' she threw a glance at No.2 at her side who took the cue to speak as she produced and supplied Santana with her phone number as well.
''And if you ever wanted to work out with the two of us at the same time...I'm sure we could arrange that.''
''I actually prefer to work out alone, like solo,'' Santana tried to say, but was interrupted with-
''By working out,'' No.1 said leaning in slightly and whispering lowly, ''we mean fucking.''
''This isn't something we just do either but...you...'' No.2 placed a finger on Santana's bare midriff and traced a line on her abs, ''you're something else.''
''I usually don't like to share but for you, I'd wait my turn. So think about it and if you want, give us a call.''
And with that the two girls were off, leaving Santana frozen in her spot with two phone numbers in her hand.
Two girls, two complete strangers, two completely hot strangers who didn't even know her name, who she had said all of five words too had just offered her casual sex. Casual sex and threesome sex.
Foregoing the gym shower she tossed the numbers on her way out and made her way back to the loft where she threw her bag to the side and immediately went to the bathroom where she soon stepped into the glass shower cube. She closed her eyes and allowed the water to rain down over her as she spent several silent moments trying to piece together what just happened.
Really, she knew exactly what just happened.
She just wasn't used to the avalanche of feelings tumbling down and about inside of her. The strangest thing about it all, she thought, was that the most overwhelming emotion she was experiencing wasn't fear or shame, but rather a sense of...pride.
The attention itself was thrilling. Exciting. New.
And, well, kinda hot.
She let out a light, airy little laugh to herself, a laugh that turned into a jerky little yelp when she felt two hands snake around from behind to rest on her hips.
''Whoa, hey, it's me,'' Brittany said from behind her. ''I called your name like twice before I stepped in, you must not have heard me.''
''You scared the crap out of me,'' Santana relaxed. ''I thought you were doing Fondue For Two with Justin.''
''We wrapped it up earlier than I expected. Why are you showering in the middle of the day anyway?''
''I just got back from the gym, so. I got one of those free trial membership dealys.''
''Oh yeah? Get a good workout in?''
''More or less. I'm a little sore, but the good kind of sore.''
''Here,'' Brittany said as she grabbed for a bar of soap nearby and began to gently glide her hands around Santana's back, spreading suds around and trying to ease any tension in the muscles. Her hands continued to move over her, her fingers dancing up and down tight, toned curves. ''Good?''
''Mmm,'' Santana moaned her answer, closing her eyes and letting Brittany as well as the hot water wash over her.
''I have a question for you.''
''Is that why you're massaging my ass? So I'll say yes to whatever you're about to say?''
''No,'' Brittany laughed and leaned in to rest her chin on Santana's damp shoulder and whispered into her ear, ''I'm massaging your ass because it's a really nice ass. If it happens to help my case that's just an added bonus.''
''Okay, shoot.''
''So I've been thinking about something for awhile, about senior year.''
''Uh-huh.''
''I was thinking that maaaaaaybe...I would run for senior class president.''
Santana turned around to face her head on with wide surprised eyes.
''You think it's stupid?'' Brittany asked.
''What? No. Hey,'' Santana brought a hand up to cradle a pale cheek. ''Nothing you ever say or do could be stupid, okay? Don't ever think that. I just...it's not something I thought you'd be interested in. It seems like it'd be a boring job if you ask me...''
''It does, which is exactly why I want it. To make it not boring.''
''How would you do that?''
''By totally rocking and being mega hot of course.''
''Of course.''
''The truth though? Before I leave that place I want to try to make an impression on it and I want to show people what I'm made of...what we're all made of. Mike and Quinn would probably be better and more suited for the job, sure, but they wouldn't change anything.''
''Is that what you want to do?''
''I just want to help people be not afraid to be who they are. I want to make them see color. I want to show them it's okay if they want to color their school bus wheels green, you know?''
''And what is it that you need me to do?'' Santana asked, taking the bar of soap from Brittany's hands and running it around in her own until she created a lather which she then applied to Brittany's breasts. She slowly and softly glided her hands around making sure to touch every inch of them and smirking when she felt pink nipples pebble within her palms. She went over them several times, using her thumbs to play with them - all for the sake of cleanliness of course.
''Nothing major, I just want to know if you'd have my back.''
''You have a cute back but I much prefer to have your front,'' Santana seductively added, thoroughly enjoying the soapy action.
''Be my campaign manager?''
''What? I don't know anything about running campaigns or student government.''
''No, but you know about image, and you know how to sell something. If I'm going to change things it's not going to be easy. I'm going to have to make a splash and make some noise at first. You're good at that. I need your expertise.''
''President Pierce would have a nice ring to it. ''
''You don't have to answer now, you can just think about it. Nothing's going to happen or be put in motion until the school year starts so...you can just noodle on it in the meantime.''
Santana wrinkled her forehead, looking playfully concerned as her hands moved down to soap up Brittany's thighs, all smooth and toned and begging to be licked. ''If you want my help I'm there. You talked me into it...or rather your boobs did. But I do have a question. If I do this - become your campaign manager - will me and you have to stop sleeping together?''
''Why would we need to do that?''
''If people found out a candidate was sexing up her campaign manager behind closed doors it might look sketchy. That sounds like a political sex scandal just waiting to happen if you ask me.''
''Then we'll just have to be extra super sneaky.''
''Oh yeah?''
''I'm seeing a lot of nights full of campaign talk in your bed. Naked debates on what would be the best platform to run on. Naked brainstorming sessions where we try to think up campaign slogans. I think I'd want us to do all of our one-on-one strategy meetings naked. You know, if people talked politics while naked it'd be way more interesting, though I'm guessing watching C-SPAN would be a lot more horrifying, and wrinkly. Oh, you know what else we could-''
''Britt, if you say naked one more time, I'm gonna explode over here.'' Santana kissed her once and then buried her face in Brittany's neck to let out a funny, little frustrated growl, nipping at the girl's skin there. ''You know how I love your tangents, but can we please not mention old naked dudes while I'm rubbing you down? I was over here trying to be all seductive eyes and shit and you just totally killed it.''
''Aww, is my poor, wittle sex monster frustrated?''
Santana silently nodded and Brittany made a sympathetic noise with her mouth, as if she thought that was the most adorable thing ever.
''You're making fun of me.'.
Brittany fought back her grin. ''No, I'm not. I'm just kind of, I don't know...lately, since we've got here, it's like you can never get enough. I mean you've always kind of had that and we've always had really hot times between the sheets but in the week that we've been here you've been like whoa.''
''You know if it's ever too much for you, you could say-''
''What? No. It's amazing,'' Brittany insisted eagerly, bringing both of her hands up to place them on either side of Santana's slender neck, holding it as she delivered a warm, promising kiss. ''I like it. I'm sorry you had to work out all riled up like this though, that couldn't have been fun.''
''About that...uh...I think I should tell you something,'' Santana said, pulling away just slightly to look the blonde in the eye.
''Hm?''
She kissed Brittany's bare, pale shoulder. ''It's nothing really when you think about it. You'll probably laugh. I just know that you don't want us to hide things anymore so...''
''So, what?''
''Today...well...''
Brittany tilted her head at her hesitance. ''Uh huh.''
''Earlier at the gym there were these girls... like a lot of them but there were these two who kept looking at me and-''
''Oh my god, did you hit someone?''
''I'm serious here...there were these two girls who were looking at me and kept accidentally bumping into me in a totally non-accidental way and just being...I don't know...but like...they gave me their numbers.''
Brittany's smile slowly waned. ''Their numbers?''
''I was in the locker room and they came up to me at the same time and just shoved their numbers into my hands and gave me some super loaded smiles and basically told me they wanted to hookup-''
''And the numbers?''
''I threw them away.''
Brittany nodded and turned away slightly in thought, staring down at the tiled shower floor for several long moments. Santana wasn't sure what the girl was thinking. She didn't look angry, but then she also didn't look giddy at the confession either.
''Are you mad?''
''No, of course not, San. You didn't do anything wrong.''
''Nothing happened. I just wanted to be honest.''
''I think...'' Brittany turned back to her. ''I think that's just the kind of thing that maybe happens here on Liberty Avenue. You know?''
''What? Random sex propositions?''
''Well. People aren't ashamed of who they are here so they go for what they want, or who they want. Since we've been here I've noticed a ton of girls looking at you. Like, really look at you.''
''Why?''
Brittany shook her head at her as if the answer was obvious. ''Baby...you're beautiful.''
Sheepishly Santana looked down, breaking eye contact to study and stroke the inside of Brittany's elbow.
''I know you. You may talk a big game and have this need to remind everyone how hot you are...I know where that comes from, San. You don't always believe in your own beauty, but I do, and you are. You're the kind of beautiful it hurts to look at. Anyone with a pulse should want you. I know you're used to guys seeing you that way but believe me, girls do too, especially here. And it's okay.''
''It is?''
''Well...sort of. Do I like that people look at you like you're a piece of meat? No. But I'm sleeping with the hottest person on the planet and you're gonna get stares, I accept that. So girls are going to want to get close to you...that's going to happen.''
''And you're fine with that?''
''In some ways yes...in some ways no...but I trust you. I trust you more than anyone. It's probably something you need to see and experience a little bit too. Girls can look at you and give you numbers and flirt all they want but I'm the only one who gets these...'' she softly pressed the pad of her thumb to Santana's lips. ''Or...these.'' She moved her hand down to caress her breasts. ''Or this.'' And finally leaned up to softly peck her lips.
''I would never do anything with them. I wouldn't need to.''
''I know...I know you would never do that to me.''
''….….though they were pretty cute.''
''Oh they were cute were they, huh?'' A slightly amused Brittany pinched a nipple as punishment for that little remark.
''Oww! They were, but not as cute as you. No one is ever as cute as you. Your abs were better too and your ass is like way hotter.'' She reached behind the girl to cup said ass. ''You have that perfect squeezable thing going on back there-''
''Whoa, you looked at their asses?''
''Maybe, I don't know.''
''And how do you know my abs were better than theirs?''
''Yours abs are better than everybody's.'' Santana shrugged. ''We were all in the locker room at the same time, I guess I saw them then.''
''So you were checking them out?'' Brittany laughed. ''You were checking out girls!''
''I was noticing them, that's a totally different thing.''
''It's the same thing!''
''Okay, yeah, so what if I was?''
''Nothing...but like...if you think about it, it means you're getting comfortable. This is a good thing.''
''So wait, you like that I was looking at other girls?''
''Again I don't think like is the right word, I don't like it, I accept it. All of this, you figuring yourself out, learning who you are, San, it's a process and this is a part of it.''
Santana tilted her head, considering this. ''I'm not really sure I understand that.''
''You can look at them and they can look at you but in the end they lose.''
''Why is that?''
''Because I'm the one here with you and they're not. I'm the one who's about to have you, not them.''
''Not them,'' Santana repeated softly.
The next thing Santana knew she was being pushed back against the glass and into a corner, Brittany's swiftness taking her by surprise. She groaned in anticipation when she felt one of Brittany's hands slide down to cup a breast while the other traveled further below in between Santana's legs to tease her.
''This-this is for me right?'' the blonde asked as she began to slide a finger into her.
Santana could only nod dumbly. ''It's always for you.''
She was soaking wet and it had nothing at all to do with the shower. It's just how she was, it never took much to get her going and ready and she had already spent several minutes running her soapy hands all over the blonde's perfect body. A perfect body she could never, ever seem to get enough of.
Brittany then moved in to deliver an open mouthed kiss, her tongue seeking out Santana's as she added another finger. Santana groaned as she felt herself clench around them, pulling them into herself. Brittany's movements became more certain, deliberate, more passionate with each second and the teasing soon turned into firm strokes. Eventually Santana felt her whole body gently moving with each of Brittany's thrusts, taking the girl's long, thin fingers, open and eager for them. They broke their embrace but kept their mouths there, right there, so their lips continued to graze. They were practically breathing into each other's mouths, all the while Brittany kept pumping her hand between them.
''You feel so good,'' Brittany said hotly into her mouth. ''God, you feel so good.''
Santana was falling apart in anticipation but what what made her feel like she had died and gone to fucking heaven was after several moments watching Brittany halt her movements in order to kneel down in front of her.
The blonde was on her knees and her perfect mouth only inches from where Santana needed her most. Brittany wore a cute, naughty smirk on her face as she carefully pushed Santana's legs apart further, gently pushing and holding a thigh to the side to allow her deeper access.
''Bed?'' Santana suggested.
Brittany shook her head in the negative. ''No, I want you here.''
The next thing she knew Brittany was leaning forward to kiss her mound, warming her up, not that she needed it, her whole body was buzzing, waiting and ready. Dripping. Soon Brittany's mouth found her clit and started gently stroking it with her tongue before greedily sucking it in and moaning against Santana. The tiny vibrations making Santana's brain go haywire with excitement and she became incapable of all the normal processes, gone was her ability to reason, motor functions and speech. She reached out and placed both hands on either side of the glass surrounding her, even then she felt like she might give out.
She could only stare through hooded eyes at the blonde below, with her mouth attached to her, making tiny faint sucking sounds that she thought were so insanely fucking hot. Santana thought she could probably just come from looking down at Brittany's head bobbing in her lap at a delicate but eager pace. The sight before her was so beautifully lewd it made her want to fuck for the next million years.
''Buh-Britt,'' Santana panted, needing more, so much more.
''You have a really beautiful pussy...you have beautiful everything,'' Brittany said in admiration. Her position on her knees giving her a generous view.
The girl smiled and then went right back to work, only this time her licks and sucks were accompanied by a couple of pumping fingers. Fingers that knew exactly what they were doing and where they most wanted to be.
Despite the fact that they were still partially under the shower spray Santana felt herself begin to sweat slightly. It was getting hot in the glass cube but turning on the cool water would mean stopping Brittany's mouth and there was no way that was going to happen. Not while Brittany's face was buried between her legs, lapping up her wetness and making sparks shoot off behind her eyes at the things she was doing.
Moments later, still pushed into a corner she clenched her eyes and felt her heart jump within her chest as she came. Explosions in her head and heart setting off at the same time. Tiny tremors travelled all throughout her body. Even after that, when the intensity began to slowly fade Brittany was still happily licking her up.
She let one hand fall down to sink into blonde hair, stroking it tenderly. ''Britt?''
''Mmmmmm.'' The girl's only response was to moan against her.
''Britt,'' Santana tried again, saying her name softly. ''Hey...look at me.''
Brittany pulled away just slightly to kiss the inside of her thigh and look up.
And then there were no words.
Because those eyes. God, those blue eyes.
''Thank you,'' Santana whispered, blinking long and hard as she came back to reality.
And back in reality she figured it couldn't be all that comfortable for Brittany down below on her knees, kneeling on hard wet tile. Santana helped her up and pulled her into her arms for a kiss.
''You taste like super yummy,'' Brittany sighed.
Santana began running a hand down Brittany's side. ''Your turn.''
''No, that was just for you. I wanted to make you feel good.''
''You did, and if you want to keep making me feel good you'll give me a taste too.''
Brittany grinned at her eagerness. ''Okay, okay, but in bed, wash my hair for me first?''
Brittany turned herself around so as to allow Santana access to her hair, but the move also managed to present her bare ass to Santana, who just smirked as she grabbed a shampoo bottle and went to work lathering the girl's scalp. She occasionally found herself 'accidentally' bumping her front into said perfect ass during the task.
Needless to say they didn't make it to the conditioning part of the hair washing process.
For the next while they stumbled and tumbled their way through the loft, having each other on every available surface they could find. From the coffee table to the kitchen island to the bed, back to the kitchen and then in front of the windows until finally, out of breath and energy they came to rest on the couch together. Dark sheets draped haphazardly over their bodies. Santana watched Brittany flip through the old, thick binder that the blonde had taken with her that night at Debbie's house.
The binder contained some of Justin's old teenage drawings and sketches. It was on the brink of falling apart. The outside of it had doodles and marks across it, as well as a tiny bit of handwriting as well. Justin Taylor it read along the worn, aged spine.
Together they went through it, page by page.
Brittany had been interested in seeing his work, stating to Santana that she was really only familiar with what he drew pre-Liberty Avenue and post-Liberty Avenue. She'd never actually seen much of the work he had done during the span of time he discovered himself in this place.
''Who is she?'' Santana asked, pointing down at a drawing of an older, refined looking woman.
Brittany placed a hand onto the sheet of paper and smiled. ''My aunt Jennifer,'' she answered, tilting the sketch slightly to allow Santana a better view.
''It's good.''
''Let's see...it looks older than the other drawings...ah, according to the back of it Justin was fifteen when he drew it.''
''Impressive.''
They continued on through, finding sketches of bowls and fruit, of Justin's sister and Brittany's cousin Molly. There was a rough sketch of what looked to be the front building of a private school and a very young Daphne sporting some kind of school uniform, her shirt untucked, her tie loose. Over time and with each drawing it became clear that his style was evolving, becoming more sophisticated and detailed. There was a very elaborate one of Debbie in her kitchen with a man neither of them had seen before, whose face was worn and tired yet crinkled into a wide smile as he looked to her with a sibling like affection. There was a sketch of the chaotic and brightly decorated Liberty Diner. There was a drawing of a light haired woman gently cradling a newborn while a woman with short, dark hair adoringly watched them. There was also several sketches of Brian looking head on, done with so much care and obvious affection for the subject.
When there were no more pages to turn they noticed a loose stack of sketches at the back which Santana picked up and began flipping through, spreading them across each of their laps. These sketches appeared to be torn out of other books and they also seemed to vary in date as some looked older than others. These sketches appeared less focused or studied, as if they were things he did mostly to pass the time but had no great importance like the others he had taken the time to sort.
Still, even his most unfocused work was interesting and beautiful to look at, or so Santana thought. She turned a page over and came across a sketch of a young man in an action pose in a football uniform.
Number 68 displayed across his jersey.
In that moment Santana noticed something cross Brittany's face. Something sad, something angry. Something she had never seen before. The blonde closed her hand upon the drawing, crumbling it within her palm with a quiet focused fury.
''What?'' she asked, taken back by Brittany destroying a sketch when she was so careful of all the others. ''Is that a cousin you hate or something?''
''No...no, he's not.'' Brittany swallowed. She began stacking the other papers upon each other and quickly closed the notebook up before placing it on the coffee table.
''Then?''
''It's nothing.'' Brittany stood, reached for Santana's hand and pulled her up alongside her. ''Let's go to bed. You wore me out tonight.''
''Hey,'' Santana pulled Brittany to her, running a hand over her hair soothingly. ''What's wrong? Who was that?''
''It's just...it's a piece of trash. That's all,'' Brittany exhaled, shook her head dismissively and attempted to pull Santana towards the bedroom. She smiled weakly. ''Come on. We can look through the rest of these later. I'm exhausted and you owe me cuddles. …..Please?''
''Okay.''
Santana glanced down at the wadded up paper and blinked. There was something, or rather someone in that sketch that troubled Brittany. It took everything in Santana not to press or question, to simply take Brittany's hand when the girl offered it to lead her up the steps to the bedroom where they both slid beneath the cool sheets. Santana laid on her back, Brittany took to her side and placed her head on her shoulder. She continued to stroke blonde locks, even long after she heard the girl's breathing even out and become slow and steady in slumber.
As Santana stared up into darkness she had to wonder, who was number 68? How was he significant to Justin? Why did Brittany react so aggressively towards the sketch of him?
What did this mean and did it mean anything at all?
Without the answers all she could do was hold Brittany tighter in her sleep, hoping that her arms provided some sense of safety from whatever it was Brittany saw in that sketch.
X
A/N:I know Britt might seem super chill about other girls hitting on Santana now, but that will definitely change as we go further, and as Santana becomes more confident and begins to really enjoy the attention and bask in it. There will be no cheating in this story but it's important for this Santana to understand her sexual power on that level and embrace it (she and Brian share a lot of characteristics and their massive sex appeal is one of them). Brittany gets that it's good for Santana to acknowledge her attraction to girls beyond her, because it's a process that will help her accept herself further, but there will be some issues that spring from this.
Also, I debated a lot about mentioning Chris Hobbs in this story. I could have just ignored it, but I thought if I'm going to write this, if I'm going to build this universe I might as well explore everything. If Justin and Brittany were related there's no way that what Chris Hobbs did to Justin wouldn't hurt and affect Brittany profoundly. So I thought how would that event touch Brittany, how would their family deal? I definitely plan to explore that event from Britt's POV.
And yes, that line from Michael was a really clunky way of mentioning Melanie and Lindsey will indeed be making an appearance in this story. While Brittany/Santana do share more character DNA with Brian/Justin I think it's important for the girls to see Melanie and Lindsey's relationship. I totally feel like Santana would have a little schoolgirl crush on Lindsey (seriously, Thea Gill has gotten even more stunning since QaF! Guh.)
Next chapter: a little bit of Rage/Snix talk, karaoke night, and finally Babylon. Honestly, I can't believe I'm almost ten chapters in and I'm just now barely getting them to Babylon. The reason for that is because Babylon is the thing that changes everything for Santana. Once she and Brittany hear that ''thumpa-thumpa'' there's no going back.
Stay tuned! Same Snix time, same Snix channel. ;)