Title: After All This Time
Rating: NC-17
Word Count: 6.7k
Summary: See, you've never really been one for bright ideas. Sure, you're phenomenal at revenge plans and being a total bitch, but when it comes to genuinely decent ideas, you're lacking to say the least. But this one? This one could actually work.
Notes: This is a smaller update, but I'm hoping it'll answer some of the questions and tame the irritations.
/
Despite going all Snixx on Puck earlier, it seems to have put him back in line and he gets through his scene with Sugar and Dani after a few tweaks from Artie about direction.
You sit on your chair, ignoring everyone that tries to talk to you, making it clear with both sides of the headset on and just watch. There's barely any input from your side as you're far too caught up in thinking about the conversation with Brittany, and now you're torn because you don't know what you're supposed to do. You're not sure if the damage has been done and you – for the good of the film and your friendship with Brittany – should just forget about what happened last night, twice and quit all this awkward tension between you.
It's probably the best thing to do, but you don't know if you'd be jumping the gun and getting in front of the bullet, because Brittany said she didn't just have sex with anyone and that must mean that your thing meant something. Sure, she's had her fair share of conquests, as you have too, but she's always used it as a way to familiarise herself with people, finding it easier to find true meaning in their actions where it's been more of a release for you.
But last night wasn't. It wasn't one of your normal notch on the bedpost hook-ups and every part of your mind, body and soul knows that, but you've got to weigh up your options here and you've only got one more night of filming before it's all done. You've still got a couple scenes to go, and then comes the editing part and everything is so overwhelming that it feels like you're drowning under the pressure and the worst part is, Brittany was always your life raft. She was always the one to keep your head above water, but she's involved in it, and you seem to have blurred the lines between professional and personal and risked losing the best thing that ever happened to you.
So, you can't go to her for comfort or advice. You wish you could, and it'd just make it easier, but you're stuck in a rut with no way out.
"Okay, okay," Artie announces, slamming his clapperboard one final time and the actors on set all groan, rolling off each other, exhausted.
You know how they feel, except your exhaustion is emotional and not physical, even though you barely slept last night. The sheer anxiety that's been thrumming through your body has been a natural caffeine, powering you but you know you've got to head home. Tomorrow is a big day and you're glad Artie is calling time because you want to get out of here. Climbing into your bed, smelling Brittany on the sheets and falling asleep sounds like the best idea, right now, even if you know you'll be returning home with Brittany and the awkwardness that's now going to be there.
Maybe you'll have time to talk to her at home, though. Maybe you can wait until then and just figure your shit out when you're finally alone, without a risk of Sugar barging in like she did earlier.
"Good job, guys," Artie cheers and Puck gets up from the diner table, naked in all his glory with a raging hard on – you think he took the Viagra suggestion – before wandering over to the guy as he wheels over to you.
You just let out a long sigh and watch in amusement as Puck high fives Artie, a sticky residue on his hand that transfers over, which makes Artie screw his face up with disgust. If you were in a better mood, you'd probably laugh, but the time passes, then Puck's winking at you and heading into the back room to change again, leaving you with Artie who tilts his head to the side as he slows to a stop, a curious look on his face.
"You look tired," he states and yeah, understatement. You're running on empty. "Go home. We'll clean up."
The offer seems like a good idea, but you can't control the way you look for Brittany, wanting to find out if she's going to leave with you but you haven't spoken since the storage closet – she was busying herself with everything that wasn't within five meters of you – and so you think it's probably a no. Still, that doesn't change the way you feel, and Artie sees it too, peering over his shoulder but you can't see Brittany or Sugar, and wonder if they're getting changed in the back.
"Sugar said she was going for a drink with Brittany," he mentions, and your eyes snap to him, narrowing.
"She told you that?"
He nods, not understanding why you're shocked by the news, but you guess your face is showing it. "Yeah, Sugar was flirting with Puck, and he said he wanted to go but she said it would breach the professional lines," he explains and again, yeah, you know the feeling. He also looks a little bummed out that Sugar isn't interested in him, but you don't have the capacity to feel bad for him. "So she said she was going out with Brittany instead."
It seems like a plausible enough situation, but Brittany got as little sleep as you did, and you know she's not one for going out without inviting you. She always does, even if she's out with people you don't know and have no interest in knowing you, but you two come as a package and that's why you grew so close. You are the ying to her yang, the butter to her popcorn and the salt to her sugar. Everyone who sees you alone always asks if Brittany's around because she probably is, which is why most people probably assumed you'd sleep together before this whole thing, but it's different now.
You're not sure how you'll answer their questions anymore. You don't know whether you'll admit the truth or just forget about it.
"Do you need a ride?" He continues, quirking a brow and Kurt takes the opportunity to wander up, hands dug into his impossibly tight jean pockets. "Kurt can drop you and come back."
You don't know why they're being so kind to you, it's not like you're the nicest person but you could do with the cool night air to clear your head before you get back to your apartment which will feel cold as hell, and not because you didn't pay the heating. Alone time will help, seeing as you stick your foot down your throat when you're around people now and you know why. It's because your head is muddied and thoughts are blurred and everything's just a whole mess of crap up there, so you're not acting your usual self.
Which, you guess, is why they're offering to take you home. A kind offer, but you're going to decline.
"Nah, I'm good," you reply and grab the clipboard off your lap, finally taking your headset off and hanging it over the arm of the chair, ready to get up but your eyes flash up and see Sugar and Brittany come out, looking a little more dressed up than usual, and naturally because you saw them, blue eyes slide over to you. She could probably feel you looking at like, like you just knew she'd be coming out as you glanced up, and you're so distracted by how pretty she is that you don't notice someone else coming up to join you until Artie's greeting the person.
"Hey, Dani," he says, and you snap your attention back to the current situation, leaving your mind on the blonde across the room from you. You can see her in your peripheral vision, and hold your position, half off the tall chair, one foot pressed to the floor as you note new pair of eyes staring your way.
"Hey, Artie," Dani replies, smiling briefly at him and he just looks between you when you don't greet, lingering for a second before he pretends someone's calling his name and wheels off, leaving you with the other girl. She turns her attention to you, head cocked and a soft smile on her face, but you're very aware that there's a lighter pair of eyes burning holes into your skull from across the room. "How you feeling?"
Not really listening to the question, and more still staring over her shoulder at Brittany who's taking in the person you're stood with, eyes narrowing into slits, you just bob your head, vacant in response.
"I'm good," you confirm and bring yourself back to Dani. You need to stop looking elsewhere. It's rude. Even if you're being glared at by Brittany, which is annoyingly thrilling. "Everything okay with your scenes?" You ask, grabbing the clipboard tight against you and sucking your lips into your mouth.
The times this girl has come up to you have always resulted in some sort of flirtation and you're so not game right now, and you want to make sure it's not body language miscommunication.
Brittany can freaking see you.
"Yeah," she waves off, not picking up on your lack of interest and begins smirking. "Was just going to ask you if you wanna go through our scene tomorrow? Maybe over a drink at my place?"
You hear immediately what she's asking and snap your vision to her, holding dark eyes strong as shock seeps into your core, brain attempting to process the words. She can't actually be asking you out. You can't actually be unlucky enough to receive an offer like this, when you've just had a conversation with Brittany and a very confusing night, because that's something a shitty person deserves and okay, you're a bitch but jheeze. You didn't think you were that bad.
"Uh, maybe another time," you stutter out, glancing back at Brittany but not being able to gain her eye contact as she's making a point to turn her back to you now. You don't want her to read this situation wrong. "I'm kind of beat."
Dani doesn't seem too put off, and you'll worry about that later. You're distracted as anything right now. "Me too," Dani replies, but if she was she wouldn't have asked you to go back to hers for a drink, but you're not going to call her out on it. You just want to get out of this conversation and find Brittany. "Well, I'll see you tomorrow, Santana," she purrs, stroking down your forearm and your eyes snap down, body freezing at the movement, but you don't jerk away. Not because you don't want to, but because you're just confused with everything right now. "Looking forward to our scene. I know you'll do a better job than those guys," she throws in, eyes shifting to Sam and Puck who are being total children and having a sword fight with some of the dildos around.
And you start to laugh, more nervously than anything because Dani's shooting a wink your way and spinning on her heel, sauntering in a way that you know she's doing to catch your attention, but you hear the double entrance doors slam and whip your head around, trying to find Brittany but she's not there. She's not anywhere in the diner anymore, and your heart sinks in your chest, disappointment seeping in as you realise she just left with Sugar out the front door without saying goodbye to you.
Seems like you're going home alone for sure, now.
/
You throw your keys on the counter, slumping down on the sofa heavily and stare at the television when you get home.
It's not on, but you find weird solace in staring at it whilst it's off, cracking your neck from left to right as you sat in that damn chair most of the day and your back is aching like a mother. It went well though, and you guess it's progress and now you're two thirds of the way through the filming aspect of it, but it feels like there's something else you're two thirds of the way through. You're just hoping it isn't seeing the light at the end of the tunnel of yours and Brittany's friendship, but you know that it's gotten weird now.
You're still lingering over her 'I don't sleep with anyone' comment, because you don't feel like you insinuated that. You don't feel like you've ever judged her because you haven't. You enjoy sex too, it's like getting a release but it's pleasurable and you've never judged her, and she's never judged you.
But you don't think that's what she was getting at when she said it. You're just yet to ask her what she really meant.
She was pissed at you though, so you can't blame her for taking Sugar's interruption as her cue to leave, but you know need to sort it out. When she comes home, you're going to have to be awake as you don't think you can sleep with the mindset you're in, with the shit still hovering between you two, and so you decide beer is the way to go, heading over to the fridge to crack open a cold one, just to ensure your eyes stay open.
The bubbles tickle your throat as you throw it back, wincing because you don't actually like beer that much, but there's only half a bottle of wine left and Brittany likes a glass before bed, so this will do and return to your seat, flicking on the TV and setting back into the couch again. You don't get to focus on it for more than five minutes before your phone buzzes in your pocket and you set down your beer can, fishing the device out your pocket and flick open the lock screen to see Sugar's name on the front, with a preview of the message.
Brittany's on her way back. Just a heads up – Sugar xx
You frown at the message, checking the time because she's only been out for drinks for about an hour or so. You left a while after realising Brittany had gone without saying goodbye, not wanting to return to a cold, empty apartment with memories of what you were doing last night with the person who was running circles in your mind for too long. You're kind of annoyed at that still, even though you deserve it – so you're more annoyed at yourself – but you're now more focused on the nerves fluttering in your stomach because she's going to walk through the door soon.
Although it does strike you as strange that Sugar is updating you on her whereabouts. They haven't been out for drinks before, and you haven't known Sugar long nor are you really friends, so you don't understand why she'd forewarn you of Brittany's arrival.
You can't linger on that though, or you'll delve into a plethora of questions you'd rather not think about right now, and so you type out a quick reply, thanking Sugar for letting you know, and you'll update her when she gets home. Then you toss your phone to the sofa beside you, kicking up your feet on coffee table and slurping at the can of beer whilst you wait for Brittany.
(Your leg doesn't stop jiggling about nervously.)
/
The sound of the door clicking startles you, considering you've been pretending not to stare at the damn thing every other second for the last ten minutes.
You don't know where the girls went for drinks, but the town isn't too big and Brittany's got long ass legs for a quick journey back, so you wait with anticipation for the short while and try not to be too obvious with your looking as the front door swings open and Brittany steps inside, not sparing you a glance as she starts unbuttoning her jacket. She throws it over the armchair, dropping her keys to the side table where you dropped yours and the silence is hitting hard, despite the low murmur of the television in the background.
But it's no match for the volume of your heart as you watch her move around the apartment, kicking off her shoes before heading straight into the kitchen without glancing your way. It's beating so loudly in your ears that you're struggling to focus, but you said you'd text Sugar when Brittany got back and do so quickly, hiding what you're doing just in case the blonde comes out and catches you. You're pretty sure Sugar text you for a reason, and that the blonde doesn't know, so you'll keep it on the down low for now and wait to see where the conversation leads you with Brittany.
See, during the ten minutes you were jiggling about in your seat, every position being uncomfortable because of the anxiety and fear pulsing through you, you started thinking of why Brittany and Sugar went out for drinks, and you only came to one solid conclusion. They've only known each other for a matter of days, but they've formed quite a strong bond and if Brittany didn't tell Holly about what happened between you, you're going to assume that Sugar was her confidant.
Maybe that's why they had to go out for a girls chat or whatever Artie said, and whereas it initially made you feel better – Sugar really likes you – you also noted that Sugar thinks Puck is cute, so her judgement is a little skewed.
But anyway, you return your attention to the sound of Brittany moving about in the kitchen, hearing the clink of a glass and the fridge door shutting, but keep your eyes on the tv and then she's appearing beside you, hovering down the end of the sofa like she's undecided on whether to sit beside you or on the armchair opposite and you stop breathing completely. You can feel her eyes on you, even though you're staring at the freaking television like it's going to save you from the tension building between you, and you desperately don't want to have an argument so you're not sure if you can meet the sparkling blue.
You've never been able to resist her though, and when Brittany continues to be quiet, just lingering silently, you drag your gaze to her, clutching the beer can between your legs and offer her a half-smile, just to see if she'll smile back. Luckily, she does, even if it's a sad one, and your chest releases as her eyes drop to the space on the sofa beside you and you pinch your brows up, silently offering her to take it. You just want to be near her, even if you hate that it's like this with you two now, so awkward and shit.
She accepts, tucking her feet beneath her as she sits as far on the other side of the couch as possible, and you stare at the gap between you like its miles and miles. It fucking feels like it, and your throat is thickening with every second she doesn't meet your eye again, instead staring at the television like she isn't feeling whatever you are, but you know she is. Her fingers are grasping on to the stem of her wine glass like yours are to the beer can, and you know why you're doing it.
You're hoping she's doing it for the same reason.
"How was your night?" You ask, needing to break the silence between you, but your voice is hoarse and scratchy because you haven't spoken in a while.
Still, Brittany doesn't look at you, just nods slowly. "It was okay," she answers and bites her bottom, lip, the blue finally sliding to meet dark brown. It's only then that you start breathing properly again, but she doesn't continue talking, and you exhale heavily through your nose, clenching your jaw. This isn't going to be easy.
"Sugar was weird," you try, not choosing the words but finding it's the only thing you can muster as you stare deep in her eyes. "Was she like that with you?"
"How was she weird?"
You don't miss the way she sidesteps your question, and it makes you think she did speak to her about what happened with you two as that'd be a good reason for Sugar to be weird, but why wouldn't Brittany tell you?
"Just text me to tell me you were on your way back," you say, and it's honest, but Brittany squints like she isn't buying it, even if it's the truth.
"Did you tell her I was?"
You nod. No point in lying, even if you did try and hide it by doing it when she was in the kitchen. "Yeah, should I not have?"
"Doesn't matter either way," Brittany sighs and her responses are short, which is putting you off asking more but you just want to pull anything else out of her. You hate this treatment because her voice is flat, her eyes aren't sparkling like they usually do at you and despite her sitting down only a couple feet away from you, it feels so much further. "But yeah, she was being weird at the bar. We only had two drinks before she said she needed to go."
It makes you feel better, knowing that you weren't the only one finding Sugar's behaviour unusual – which is hard as she's constantly doing things you never expect – but the topic still isn't leading anywhere. If Sugar was being weird with Brittany too, then maybe she didn't talk to her about you two having sex the second time, and that makes disappointment sink hard in your chest. Your throat seems tighter than it was a second ago, and you throw back the last of your beer, which has now gone flat and tastes gross, but you're going to want another one anyway.
And when Brittany doesn't say anything else, you sigh loudly and get up from the sofa, heading into the kitchen to grab a new beer and crack it open, taking a long slurp. You might as well take another, with the way you're now consuming it since Brittany walked in, but getting drunk won't be the most productive and you really want to talk to her. You just don't know how.
But you've got to try, and so you brace yourself, thinking of a way you could get her attention and you think back to the last conversation you had, which was in the makeshift closet. She was making a point not to directly ask you about yours and Dani's scene, and you know you have the power to write it out regardless of what Artie thinks, so maybe that's where you can start correcting your wrongdoings. Maybe that's the way in, so you do a few jumps in your spot like you're preparing for a sprint, before wandering back out and hovering at the end of the sofa, much like Brittany was before.
Your heart's still beating super loudly, deafening you to anything else but you've got to take a dive in the deep end and hope you don't drown.
"So, um," you clear your throat and cock your hip out, trying to seem casual as you stare at the top of your beer can. "I was thinking about the rewrites we did this morning," you start, moving your vision to coffee table where you were going through all the scenes.
It grabs Brittany's attention, her head snapping towards you and eyes squinted. "You were?"
She sounds a little surprised by your conversation starter, but her reaction is stronger to the one she had when you asked how her night was, so it's a good way to go talking about your one. Just without admitting you stayed at the diner for longer than you needed to because you didn't want to come back home when she wasn't there. You've just got to continue as normal, and so you gingerly return to your place on the sofa, sitting on the edge like you're ready to get up any second.
(If she shoots you down, or you start arguing, you might need to. You hate it when she's mad at you and you hate it when you feel like a jackass, and it's happened before, but rarely.)
(This time is so much worse though. This time you've done it after finding a development you didn't know could happen in your relationship with her.)
"Yeah," you finally confirm through a breath and Brittany sips on her wine, but her eyes are trained on you. "Think I might need to make some changes," you get out and you hear the breath hitch in her throat as she lowers her glass to her lap, hesitantly flitting between each of your eyes like she's scared about what you might say.
But, as per usual, something has to crash your party and disturb the moment before you can reassure her, and there's a loud humming sound that echoes around you, deep within the walls of your apartment and it draws both your attention to it. You've heard it before, but then you're frowning because you damn well know you didn't pay the heating, and that's the sound of it freaking switching on and you don't know what's going on, eyes returning to see if Brittany's got a clue but nope. She's not in the know either.
And then there's a loud banging on your front door, stealing the moment of your admittance and because it's just before midnight, and it's unusual for either of you to have visitors at this time, you check with Brittany it's okay to see who's at the front door and get up when she shrugs, making your way over there to peel it open.
That's where you find them, all of your friends from the movie you're shooting, crowded in the cold hallway, bundled up in winter clothing as they look at you excitedly and you're stunned, not moving as you grasp the edge of the door and stare at them with your mouth open. Firstly, the heating comes on, and now you've got a bunch of people stood at your door, interrupting the moment where you were going to tell Brittany that you don't want to do the Dani scene anymore, and explain why you don't want to, and make amends with her.
But God has other plans, and so do your friends, and you don't even get to ask them why they're here before there's a pop of a champagne bottle and the cork shoots above your head, getting lost in the apartment behind you.
"SURPRISE!"
/
After brushing off the initial shock of your entire crew turning up, and them screaming in your face, you take a step back and they all come in, Artie rolling behind them.
Sugar, Puck, Sam, Dani, Artie, Kurt and Spencer are all here, grins wide and eyes glossy and you wonder what the hell is going on for a second before someone starts blaring music from your speaker in the corner and you spin around, finding Artie in front of you, beaming with excitement and pride. You could probably do with an explanation, but you're still startled and frozen and confused because nothing has gone the way it was supposed to today.
Nothing has, actually, since you came up with this whole idea and it's like you're being thrown from pillar to post, never quite knowing where you're going but you're driving the metaphorical car.
But you don't think you're anything to do with this, not until Artie hands you a plastic flute filled with cheap champagne and your eyes scan across the apartment to see everyone making themselves comfy, pouring drinks and beginning to dance to the music now playing overhead, Brittany somewhere in the back with Sugar.
"It's a wrap party," Artie cheers, interrupting your thoughts and you stare down at him, then around again like you're not understanding what he's saying.
"Aren't wrap parties supposed to happen after you wrap from filming?" You counter, not trying to be defensive or ungrateful but you aren't exactly in the mood for partying. You thought he and Kurt picked up on that when Artie told you to go home and offered you a ride. They both commented on how tired you looked and so it's not like you don't want them here but– No, scratch that. You definitely don't want them here. You're yet to clear shit up with Brittany and now she's tipping back the rest of her wine and starting on a line of shots Sugar is pouring out on the coffee table and your chance is rapidly sliding away.
Although now you wonder if Kurt was your distraction, like Sugar was Brittany's as that's kind of obvious now. What was he going to do though? Kidnap you? You only live five minutes away in the car but you guess it doesn't matter anyway.
"Yeah, but that's the surprise," he retorts and winks at you, lifting up his glass. "Plus, we paid your heating, so we wanted to enjoy our monies worth," he teases and sticks his tongue out which makes you throatily chuckle. "Cheers, Santana!"
And well, if Brittany can enjoy this – as she's popping open a bottle of champagne with the other girls – then you guess you can too.
At least you can get drunk now without worrying about what you've got to deal with.
/
It's a little while later, and the shots on the coffee table led to body shots, which led to beer pong, and basically all of you are trashed and falling about laughing and dancing.
Well, everyone except you and Kurt, who are annoyingly sober despite both of you keeping up with everyone else. The alcohol just doesn't seem to be doing its job as well as it usually does, but you're going to guess that's because of the way your stomach was turning prior to any alcohol touching it. The nerves have been too much and yeah, the alcohol has helped in that sense because you're feeling a hell of a lot looser than before, but you haven't been able to take your eyes off Brittany who hasn't spoken to you since everyone walked in.
Kurt's noticed, if his stolen glances every other minute are anything to go by, but thankfully he hasn't said anything. Probably because you don't look in the mood, a massive case of the resting bitch face going on since you've watched Sam and Puck both take their turns at hitting on Brittany during the night.
The first time, Sam stepped up to Brittany as she was laying down, ready to be the body in body shot and lapped the liquor out of her bellybutton, swiftly searching for a lime slice between her lips, but she was just grasping it in her hand and shoved it in his mouth to push his face away. It made you laugh, even though it was more of a ha than an actual laugh, but Brittany didn't look at you and hopped off the table, asking Sugar to take her place whilst she went to pee.
You were glad but didn't get to follow her as Puck did before, stopping her before she could go in, just to lean against the wall and look her up and down, waggles her eyebrows like she was a piece of meat and said something suggestive. You were too far away to hear, but he's so blatant with his pathetic seduction techniques that you filled in the blanks.
Obviously it didn't work – Brittany's a classy girl and deserves to be wooed, not just lusted after – and she waved him off and disappeared in the bathroom with nothing more than a scoff.
But anyway, she returned about five minutes ago, looking all glassy eyed as she stumbled out the door, but has been occupying herself on the far sofa, which was shifted to the wall to make room for beer pong, with Sugar. They've been in conversation since, and you've been watching out your peripheral vision, but otherwise seeming like you're enjoying the music and having a beer with Kurt.
Who still hasn't said much to you even though he keeps stealing glances and it's starting to bother you.
"Porcelain," you say, gaining his attention and he quirks a brow at you like he wasn't staring at you ten seconds ago. "Why aren't you drunk?"
He shrugs. "Been throwing them in your plant for the past hour," he admits with a grin, and your eyes shoot to the poor green thing in the corner, wondering how you'll save the damn thing now it's had quarter of a bottle of tequila. You thought he was drinking with you. "Think one of us needs to be in the right mindset for filming, tomorrow."
"Guess so," you reply, not that interested and now worrying he's going to ask you why you're not drunk. You've had enough to be.
"What about you?"
Shit. He did ask. "Doesn't seem to be hitting me right," you lift your glass up at him, and it's half-empty, like you're trying to prove you are drinking. He has seen it, so you don't know why you do it. Maybe you are a little intoxicated. At least yours isn't killing another innocent plant. "Just got a lot on my mind."
Kurt stares at you for a long moment, jaw shifting over as he sucks his cheek into his mouth. "Yeah, I've noticed you've been a little vacant," he says, and you know that because he pulled you to the side in the kitchen earlier for brief chat, and since then you've been trying to focus on being normal like he suggested and trying to save your friendship with Brittany as it's obviously been effected by everything, he just doesn't know the specifics as to why exactly. Hasn't been working apparently, though. "Guessing you haven't sorted it out with Britt."
Your eyes flash to him. "No," you confirm, and he presses his lips together. You're hoping he doesn't ask what happened.
"What happened?"
Second time you're wrong in the space of two minutes. "Just had a… disagreement," you lie, focusing on anything else in the room like Artie being tipped back in his wheelchair by Puck as Sugar pours vodka straight from the bottle into his mouth, so he's upside down. "It's nothing we won't get over."
He sits forward on the edge of the armchair and cocks his head to the side. "Was it about your scene with Dani or hers with Sam?"
You hate how nosey and observant he is, even if made you bond in the first place.
"Something like that," you choose to reply. It's not exactly the truth, but it's close enough and you throw in a shrug to convince him, taking a pull of your beer to punctuate your words as you watch Sugar turn to Brittany and urge her head back, pouring liquor into her mouth, both of them bursting into laughter when it dribbles down the blonde's chin. At least they're having fun. "It's just weird to watch your best friend have sex with someone."
"Because you two did it?"
You pause, clenching your jaw. You don't actually know if Kurt's suspecting that you two slept together after the scene, and is referring to that, or if he's got spidey senses telling him you something is up and he's attempting to figure out what it is. Either way, you don't want to let up if he hasn't caught on like you suspected, so you'll play it cool. "Yeah," you admit. "Just caused a few complications."
"Then why are you doing the scenes?"
It's like twenty-one questions, and as they go on, you're drinking more of your beer but feeling the opposite effects as it's irritating you. You know you started this conversation, but you're wishing you hadn't. You're getting all hot and sweaty from the interrogation, feeling like you're going to slip up somewhere and Kurt will get all dramatic on you or tell you off or whatever. He'd have some sort of reaction that'd piss you off, so you need to steer it away from the topic, even if you don't believe the words that leave your mouth.
"No reason not to. It's just sex," you shrug, but your tone wavers when you say just sex and Kurt's mouth snaps shut, his eyes narrowing rapidly like he's just figured something out, but then they shoot behind you, widening. And he doesn't get to comment, as you hear the yelling of Sugar as she climbs back on to the table she was on and claps her hands loud enough to drown out the music, earning all eyes on her.
It was intentional, and you're glad for the interruption because you don't know if Kurt's going to push you into spilling out the truth – or not as he's looking behind you still and you don't know why – and you can't do that until you've cleared shit up with Brittany, then it can be forgotten, and you can get back to how you used to be. Then it won't seem so slimy to confide in someone about it as there will be clarity between you and all will be fine.
"Let's play spin the bottle!" Sugar screeches, and your heart stops as Brittany comes from behind you, not meeting your stare for like, the hundredth time before walking straight past to join everyone else.
Maybe telling Kurt would've been better.
/
Shit's about to go down.