Some gender-bent Klaine! Because we all know that Santana would be all over that.
Twisted and Bent
Santana didn't plan on her evening ending this way.
It all started with learning that Blaine used to be a girl's name. The separation from Brittany and the "just a little too much" alcohol she had were responsible for the rest, truly.
Blaine, well, he nearly has the body structure of a woman anyway, with his small hips and fleshy butt. That time he wore heels for a glee club number? Oh man.
And Kurt. Lady Hummel earned his name the hard way. Girl songs and fashionable clothes, a perfume that was "unisex" but appealing, nonetheless…
Who could blame her for giving up and locking the door to her bedroom before stripping down, without any means to get dressed in her pajamas?
It didn't even take much more than that to get her imagination running; gently fixing the bulge in Blaine's pants and plastering boobs to Kurt's chest.
Female-Kurt would wear lipstick, the kind that smelled sweet but not sickeningly so, that left marks all over your skin; female-Blaine would be covered in them.
Blaine's curly hair would look lovely peeking from between Kurt's legs, eliciting excited noises from Kurt's throat, in an octave that should be too high for anyone to hit accidentally.
Santana could imagine Blaine crying out with Kurt sucking on her neck, playing with her breasts and nipples, massaging them gently as she sinks her teeth into Blaine's skin where her shoulder and neck meet. She'd pull away to look at the wonderful, dark spot she'd created, and move on downwards to make new ones.
And if all that got Santana hot below the collar, no one has to know. She falls asleep sticky and pleased, and that's all that matters.