Title: After All This Time
Rating: NC-17
Word Count: 7.9k
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: Fear is a bitch.
/
You haven't played spin the bottle since you were a teenager in Brittany's parents' basement with Brittany and her friends who were just tolerating you for the sake of her birthday.
It was the first time you kissed someone, and it happened to be one of the other Cheerios – not Brittany – and it was okay. You thought it was wet, and sloppy, but you didn't have much to compare until you kissed a few more people and realised you needed to work on your own skills. You did, and you pride yourself over your skills now. There's something about kissing that just turns you on, but it's such a disappointment when people aren't as good as you, so you choose not to do it often.
Obviously, you kiss other parts of bodies, but the lips have got to have technique, so you only make out with people you know are going to be good.
Like Brittany, for example.
Before your scene, you'd never kissed her, but you knew she was good. You've seen her make out with loads of people and heard a lot of raving reviews about her from the randoms you've met the morning after, swiftly kicking them out the door to discuss the previous night out with Brittany. But that thought sits uncomfortably now in a way it didn't before, and so you're not too excited to watch it happen now.
Not like you can say anything though. Brittany's down to play, evident by the wide grin on her face and it's only a silly little game and really, you could do with kissing someone else. Maybe that'd clear a few things up inside your head, and potentially even hers. You know it'll have that effect on you if you have to watch her kiss someone else in this group and you're kind of hoping it might kick her in the ass, too, even if you're not entirely sure what that kick will lead you to.
Anyway, you're all sat in a large, wonky circle, the coffee table pressed up against the wall beside the sofa, so the front room is basically a large clearance. Most people are on pillows, sat with their legs tucked or crossed, but you're perched on the armchair, watching over the group with Artie to your left to keep him company up here. To your right is Kurt, and because God hates you, Brittany's sat directly opposite you with Sam and Sugar next to her, but you still haven't met her eye because she keeps looking away when you attempt to.
It's really starting to annoy you. Why won't she just look at you?
"Okay, okay," Sugar claps her hands again and gets to her knees, kneeling on her pillow as she reaches over to grab at the empty bottle of wine in the centre of the group. "We all know the rules, and everyone has to play nice and do it with a shot," she demands, poking her finger towards Puck and Sam, as if to say if the bottle lands on them, they have to kiss regardless. They both look at each other, shocked but the alcohol is doing its job because they both shrug and agree. "My turn first."
She twists the bottle with a flick of her wrist, the bottle spinning around quickly in the centre, and it begins slowing down, coming to stop as it points towards Artie. He – unsurprisingly – is over the moon with the result and Sugar crawls over to him, hands pressed to his knees and leaning up to kiss him quickly, no more than a peck which he looks entirely disappointed by. You laugh out loud, like everyone else does, but Sugar just winks at him and says something about getting chosen again and levelling it up, but that's such a cop out it's hilarious.
You're pretty sure Sugar's wanting to jump on Puck and keep Artie as a back-up in case that doesn't happen which is kind of mean but screw it, not your problem. You've got other shit to deal with.
"Now it's Britt's turn," Sugar announces as she returns back to her spot after taking her shot and your blood freezes in your body, but you don't want to visibly react. So you just tip back another long slurp of drink, and it's your seventh and now seems to be hitting you in the right places, so you indulge in the low hum inside your ears and the way your blood is warming straight back up as the liquor settles in your stomach. Okay, if you can drink your way through this, it's going to be totally fine.
Still, you don't like the way your body is screaming at you to kick the bottle out of Brittany's reach, because you don't know how you'd even explain that – intrusive thought might work but would be a weak shot – and instead you sit back in your armchair, grasping your glass so tight your knuckles go white. But you're totally fine. If you think otherwise, you'll let out the demon that's currently trying to poke its head out from inside your body, ruining everyone's night by stopping the game before it's even begun.
Another thing you wouldn't know how to explain.
Brittany leans forward, not getting to her knees – at least she isn't eager – and bites her lip as she flicks it around, putting enough force into it that it goes on for twice as long as Sugar's, which creates two times the amount of dread in your gut, and you stare in slow motion as the bottle comes to a stop…
On fucking Puck. Of all fucking people.
Of course.
"Ayyyy!" Artie cheers, pumping his fist into the air and wavering in his wheelchair, and you resist the urge to shove him off the fucking thing.
Instead, your tongue presses against the back of your teeth so hard you feel them move with the force, but you keep your expression stoic as you watch Brittany's eyes flit around the circle, meeting yours for a blink before she's crawling over to Puck who's smirking and puckering up. You've honestly never wanted to punch someone in the mouth so hard, but you can't react because she's your best friend, everyone knows that and if you leaped across the circle and strangled the guy, you'd have to explain it and just no.
Third thing you wouldn't be able to explain, even if you can feel the realisation of what you're about to witness gripping your chest in a way that makes it harder to breathe.
"Get ready to have your mind blown, Britt," Puck teases, waggling his eyebrows again and you twist your face up, unable to prevent the disgust from showing and Kurt spies you from the right, smirking right at you to let you know he saw. You don't care. Regardless of whether or not you're about to be insanely jealous that Brittany's about to kiss someone in front of you – even if it's for a dumb game – you'd have the same reaction. Puck is the reason why you're gay. If you were asked to show an example of a man that put you off all men, it would be him.
Still, you don't get to linger over that thought for long before they get closer and a breath hitches in your throat, eyes trained on it but it's not like you want to look. It's like a freaking car crash though – you just can't tear your gaze away – and you watch as Brittany leans in, eyes closing before she even gets within inches of his face and cups his jaw, pulling him forward confidently and pressing her lips to his grinning ones.
It's a sloppy kiss, one that falls off to the side because Puck's teeth are in the freaking way and as much as you feel your gut twist, you can tell Brittany's not enjoying it because she's not even trying to deepen it. She's keeping it lips to lips, face scrunched up and you get this feeling of smugness as you know the times you've kissed, she didn't react like that and well, okay, if the game is going to go that way, and she's set the tone for how you'll be when it's your turn, you can do this.
The kiss finishes quicker than it starts, with Artie no longer punching his arm in the air and cheering them on, instead looking disappointed by the length or intensity, and Brittany reels back, quickly returning to her pillow and wiping her mouth with the back of her hand. Puck's still fucking grinning, oblivious to the lack of enjoyment from the blonde and goes all smug as he leans back on his arms, scanning the group for a reaction as he and Brittany are handed a shot each.
He's got to be drunk or really just that stupid not to realise that Brittany wasn't into that, and he doesn't look like a player, just like a horny loser and it makes you laugh to yourself as you watch Sam take his turn, waiting for your own.
/
No-one else goes further than a peck on the first round, you included as you landed on Sam and that was brief and surprisingly nice. His lips are like clouds but you're still gay as hell, but the second round goes differently.
Sugar begins her turn, just like she did the first time, but when she lands on Puck, she leaps at the chance to stick her tongue down this throat and does so for an uncomfortable minute, draping her entire body across his and pulling away all dazed and shit. For the second time, you react in the same disgusted way and make a gagging sound until they part, everyone bumping their shoulders – bar Artie who looks pissed as hell he didn't get the same treatment – and joining in with the awkward laughter, and Sugar tears herself away, going back to the other side of the circle to sit down.
This time, Puck's smug for a reason as he missed out on Dani's go – she kissed Spencer which was weird – and even gets a high five from Sam, which is such a high school thing to do but they're immature little boys with immature little brains. You can't really expect more, but Sugar claps her hands and says that this round is a level up, which means tongues. She just proved that with her own turn at the bottle, but you guess it's to ramp up the fun more for everyone considering about six hours ago, there were a lot of naked bodies getting to know other naked bodies, so kissing is a minor thing in comparison.
Not for you, though, because as proud as you are that you're skilled in that particular area, you don't want to be forced into making out with someone in front of Brittany, but it's not your turn first and you fucking hate that you didn't sit next to Sugar so you could go first and not do it. Although you kind of are glad at the same time as it's going to go a similar way as the first time and that means Brittany gets to set the tone instead of you, either agreeing or disagreeing to make out with people, but you can see the glaze in her eyes and she always used to play back in high school, so why wouldn't she now?
Still, she looks hesitant as she lifts up on to her knees, leaning over the circle and spins the bottle, flicking it perfectly and much like ten minutes ago, it goes so fucking slowly you want to hit fast forward and skip her go. Then you wouldn't have to be in this position, and not know how it went and you'd be cool with that. Ignorance can be bliss and you've been nowhere near ignorant with Brittany. It's why you've felt so shitty all day.
"Who is it…" Sugar says, her voice excited as she has her hands clasped in front of her face, fingers pressed against her lips as she looks around the group.
And then the bottle stops.
Your eyes shoot to it, not wanting to follow the line but unable to as the circle isn't that large and the bottle is almost pointing towards Brittany but skewed, and you close your eyes when you realise who it's pointing to.
"Sammy!" Sugar yells, bouncing in her spot and that's when the alcohol hits you.
You're unable to force away your grimace, looking out to the room as if it'll hide it and you feel a nudge on your leg, eyes flashing down to Kurt to see him shake his head, but so subtly that only you can see it. You're not entirely sure what it means, but it makes you realise that grimacing isn't a normal reaction to seeing that and instead push a façade across your face, smiling too sweetly. Also a little dazed, because the shot you had after your turn has activated the rest of the alcohol in your body and now you're feeling it wobble from side to side even though you're sat completely still.
You should probably get some water.
"Get him, tiger," Sugar shouts excitedly, her hand slapping Brittany's ass – who wiggles it in response, tongue between her teeth – as she rises on her knees, but doesn't need to move so twists to face Sam. He's grinning like a fucking Cheshire cat, and you force your face to change expression, dropping it into a blank one. The next thing you move is your eyes, letting them to fall to the bottle in the middle of the circle and you can feel Kurt looking at you, but he just shook his head, so you're doing as you were silently told and not looking.
Or at least that's how you took it. You're a little drunk now, so you're not too confident in your telepathic ability, shockingly.
Sam shuffles to match Brittany's stance, kneeling in front of her and there's a burning inside your chest as you watch him beam a sloppily grin at her. He didn't look at you like that when you pecked him earlier, so you know he's going to enjoy this far more and you're just not okay with that. You want more than anything to snap at him, interrupt their moment and warn him that he needs to watch that tongue of hers as if it's proportionate to his mouth, it's going to suffocate the girl but the way Kurt's pushing his shoulder into your leg a little too hard to be an accident, is making you feel like you shouldn't.
You're just drunk and would make a total idiot of yourself. He of all people knows how you get after a few drinks, so you literally bite your tongue as Sugar begins egging the two blondes on.
And your heart leaps into your throat when you see Sam slide his hand into Brittany's hair, gripping and tugging her towards him a little too roughly for your liking, and your body jerks but Kurt puts his hand against your shin, pretending like he's going to reach for something and shoots you a feigned smile, a warning in his eyes. You hold it, knowing there's about three seconds before their lips touch and for some fucking reason – probably the last few shots you have – you turn at the wrong time.
Your eyes take in, in slow motion, Brittany's face as she closes the gap between her and Sam, smiling instantly into his kiss and the fire inside your chest explodes, transforming into a large fireball and surges around your body. You feel like you're on fucking fire and not in the good way, every nerve ending sparking painfully against your skin and when you see Brittany pull back, only to catch him in another kiss straight away, the pink of her tongue flashing you like a middle finger, you can't contain it anymore.
You're up on your feet within a second, panting heavily as you stare down at the blondes – who are still fucking kissing – and you're suddenly thankful for the alcohol in your body as you don't freeze or get embarrassed when the rest of the group's eyes shoot to you, instead exiting the circle immediately and heading straight for the kitchen. When you get there, you realise how tightly you're gripping your drink and throw it down on the counter, spilling it, your skin hot to the touch and cheeks too warm for your liking as you spin and lean on the far counter, out of view and press your knuckles into your eyes, wishing away the image playing over and over inside your brain.
You didn't want to fucking see that.
/
After a few minutes, you drop your fists down to your side, gripping the edge of the counter tightly and staring hard at the wall on the opposite side as you try to adjust to this feeling in your chest.
You've never had it before. Or, rather, you've never felt it so strongly before and you're not an idiot, you know what it is.
You're jealous.
There's that spiking beneath your skin every time you blink, seeing Brittany kissing Sam as a single image, paint itself on the back of your eyelids, and you're irrationally angry considering you've done your fair share in fucking up today, but it still doesn't mean you wanted to see that. The way she was grinning against his mouth, a complete parallel to the way she kissed Puck – even if it was a different type of kiss – is just pissing you off.
And whereas before you were glad that she was first up to set the tone, now you're irritated you didn't go first because then she'd possibly be feeling the way you do right now. You could've made out with someone in front of her, and even if you get to when you eventually conjure up the courage to return to the game, you're going to be the first one to feel it regardless of what you do. Now, if you go and stick your tongue down someone else's throat, you'll still be second in line, reacting to Brittany and waiting to see her reaction in turn (even if you are only doing it for a game, like you hope she is) and you're not sure what you hate more.
The fact you're suffering, or that there's now a possibility that Brittany won't do the same thing you did and walk out the damn room, because that was an over-the-top reaction to have to your best friend making out with some guy.
You can't mull over it for too long though, because as buzzed as you still feel, you know you got up with enough casual ease to actually be going for a drink, instead of admitting that you just couldn't stand watching Brittany kiss someone else, and that means you need to commit to your performance and get back in there. Or lie, however you want to phrase it. Regardless, you've got to get a new drink, head back on out there and pretend like you're totally cool and not even remotely bothered by what you just saw.
(Just in case she doesn't react the same way.)
(You're not sure you could handle that.)
You take in a deep breath, bracing yourself as you crack open a new bottle and pour yourself a glass of something strong. You're going to need it.
/
With the same nonchalance you had when you left, you wander back into the front room and see Sugar spinning the bottle.
Admittedly, you're a little peeved that they just continued playing without you, but at the same time, if they're just continuing as normal then you think you got away with the whole walking off thing without it being blatantly obvious why you chose that specific moment to walk off. They'd be whispering to each other and sniggering and making eyes at everyone to see who knows what is what, and the alcohol is probably to thank for that, but you'll take it anyway.
You settle back down in your seat, clasping your new drink in hand and fold one leg over the other, composing yourself. It feels a little too forced, probably because it is as you're aware how wavy you are, but you just stare at the bottle and suck your lips into your mouth, ignoring the several stares that follow at your return. Kurt's close enough that you can see out the corner of your eye him scanning you, but he just presses his lips together after a few seconds and looks back at the bottle as it lands on Spencer.
The hardest part of what you're doing though, the thing that's making you less focused on your balance which means you're starting to sway lightly again, is one specific pair of eyes that are sitting directly opposite you, burning holes into your forehead. They've been on you since you came back into the room, and you've got enough strength – and blood alcohol content – that you've managed not to look at Brittany, and instead focus on the game like everyone else is.
You're totally fine. F-I-N-E.
"…And Artie," Sugar cheers, but both of the guys look to each other, faces wrinkling in disgust, but a game is a game, and they hesitate before Spencer climbs to his feet, stumbling over the middle of the circle and bends at the hip, kissing Artie fiercely. It lasts for about two seconds, with Artie pushing the guy away who just chortles loudly – neither of them were into that – and wipes his mouth with his sleeve, retching a couple times as Dani leans forward, grasping the bottle but her eyes flash straight to you.
And for the like, the millionth time in this game, your heart stops.
There's a large possibility that the bottle won't land on you, but because you're a little intoxicated, you feel a light bulb switch on above your head and you don't know how, but you put every ounce of your energy into staring at the bottle as Dani spins it, sending it whipping around and around in hopes of it will land on you. It blurs a little at the speed, and you blink several times as you suck your cheeks into your mouth, knowing where you want it to go but not wanting to admit it as the only reason you think it's a good idea is because you're drunk.
(And mad at Brittany for kissing Sam, but that's totally irrational, so you'll stick with drunk.)
Someone in the heavens is looking down at you, though, a smirk growing on your face as the bottle slows down, and you don't know who it is, but you send a quick prayer to them, mentally promising that you'll do a few Hail Mary's before you go to bed tonight, as the bottle eventually lands where you wanted it to; on you.
At first, you're a little shocked, because that kind of thing never happens when you want it to, but you don't really care in this moment. Tomorrow, maybe you will, or even later on when you have your head down a toilet, but you let out a short laugh, making Kurt's head snap around, eyes narrowing into a glare but again, you really don't give a shit. You set your drink down on the coffee table beside you, rising to your feet and Dani smirks up at you, brown eyes darkening until they're almost black as she watches you confidently get into position.
It's only when she's on her feet too, standing a few inches shorter than you, that you realise what you're doing – you're drunker than you thought – and the cocky smile on your face fades, but everyone's making gorilla sounds around you to cheer you on so it's super confusing, too. Dani doesn't seem to mind though, probably because you know she's been wanting to kiss you since you started the game and showed it with large disappointment when it didn't land on you on her first turn, and grabs your hip, pulling you into her whilst the other slides up your neck.
Your body reacts without your mind telling it to, one hand shooting up to her jaw, curling around her chin with your thumb pressed below her lip, and you guide her face towards you, not even hesitating when you push your lips against hers and hear her moan. She shifts before you can even think of where to put your other hand, sucking in your bottom lip and you inhale sharply through your nose, but then there's a tongue sliding into your mouth and against yours and you don't have time to process what's going on as your hands drop to her hips, tugging her against you.
You've got to give it to her, the girl knows what she's doing, and it feels a little too good, too different to the last person that you kissed that you instantly feel guilty and reel back, breaking it and stepping away in a cold shock as Brittany pops into your mind.
Fuck. She's looking right at you, and you know she kissed Sam and didn't seem to care, even if you walked off and that says different, but you fucking care.
Your eyes widen as you take in the way Dani's looking at you, like she wants nothing more than to close the gap again and shove her tongue down your throat, but you gulp and obviously, because you've been putting far too much focus into not looking at Brittany, the one time you lose it, something akin to gravity pulls you towards the blue that are already staring back at you. You're breathing considerably harder than you were before and for an entirely different reason.
Twenty seconds ago, you felt cocky and smug and all the things in between, but now you're looking into glossy blue eyes – glossy for reasons that don't include alcohol – you feel nothing but regret and idiocy. Brittany's sitting there, shoulders slumped, and lips pressed tightly together and she's got that crease between her eyebrows that lets you know she's hurt. She's made that face at you before, when you accidentally called her stupid as joke once and she really took it to heart, accepting your apology immediately but you felt like shit for days after that, and you don't even want to begin thinking about how she's feeling right now.
(You think you already know.)
(Another stupid fucking decision you need to add to the list.)
"That was hot," Dani purrs, pulling your eyes back to her and you choke out a smile, shaking your head as you lower yourself back to your seat and grab your drink again, Dani doing the same but not tearing her eyes way from you as she sips on her own beverage.
You just return your vision to the beer, swallowing thickly, but you hear Kurt click his tongue.
/
The game swiftly comes to an end after round two.
Sugar began dry humping Puck in the corner, after removing herself from the game she started, and you all just begin leaving the circle until it's just you and Kurt and Artie left, there. You can still feel the effects of the alcohol buzzing through your veins, which is rooting you to your seat as your body is heavy as fuck and the two guys have been talking about how Sugar and Spencer are the hottest pieces of ass in the room, but you stay silent in fear you'll disagree too strongly.
There's no-one that can top Brittany, and you're mad that her ex, Artie, isn't remembering her like that considering they dated.
Although, you'll admit with how drunk you are, you're glad he's not drooling over her and reminiscing over their past relationship because you'd probably bite his head off, unable to control your actions under the influence.
But anyway, you decide to chime into the tail end of their conversation, and both sets of eye's flit over to you as they stop, and Artie leans forward, addressing you. "You okay, Santana?"
"Yeah," you breathe, even though you're not because you've been staring at Brittany on the other side of the room for ten minutes, who's sat with Sugar and Dani, and you're dying to know what they're talking about. All sets of eyes have slid to you at one point or another, and you know it's too conveniently timed for a discussion to happen with those three after what just happened with spin the bottle.
You knew you shouldn't have played.
"Excited for your scene tomorrow?" Artie continues questioning you, hiccupping to punctuate it, but otherwise seeming genuinely interested even though he's slurring and wavering in his spot.
But no, you're not excited, and you know – especially after kissing Dani – that you don't want to do the scene more than ever. The sheer dread that hung heavily in your stomach after seeing Brittany's face after was enough to solidify your decision. You don't think you could hack meeting her eye or being normal after her having to sit through watching you and Dani, and you already know she's not doing the scene with Sam, so you need to speak up.
Seeing as you've got Kurt and Artie here with you now, and they're a little inebriated, they may take the news lightly.
"About that," you start and clear your throat, inhaling deeply. You need to prepare yourself for this because it won't come without question. There are going to be thousands thrown your way, some you can't answer just yet and it's getting the better of you. Your palms are sweaty, and you've got this heat flaring beneath your skin at the possibility of admitting that you have a thing for your best friend just like everyone probably suspected all along. "I've been thinking about the rewrites–"
"Oh, God," Kurt interrupts, rolling his eyes and slumping heavily back into his chair, eying you with irritation present. "We're not gonna rewrite it again, are we?"
"Like you did anything to contribute," you snipe back, a little angrier than intended but Kurt takes it with jest and chuckles. You shake your head and look back to Artie. He's the one who was in charge of writing and you have a point; Kurt did fuck all towards rewriting everything, just pestered you and Brittany with questions to highlight the obvious tension that was in your apartment this morning. "Anyway," you begin again, droning sarcastically and Kurt smirks at you, not giving a shit that you're giving him attitude. "I'm not sure about that scene."
At your words, Kurt suddenly seems a lot less meerkat like, Artie less drunk and both more shocked, eyes wide and mouths open and you know it's a bold move, but you've been leading this thing and you don't feel like you're stepping on toes to ask this.
You don't want to do the scene with Dani, and the answers to their inevitable questions will have to come but you're not panicking because you're intoxicated and desperately trying to keep your attention on the two guys in front of you, even when your eyes flit behind them to see Dani lean in and whisper something to Brittany, who immediately looks back at you as if they're talking about you.
Looking at her isn't doing you any good, and entirely distracting you to the point where you almost forget you were just about to say something, and you go to continue what you're saying but then Dani's glancing at you too, shooting over a wink that Brittany manages to see and her eyes move between you two for a long second, her mouth open like she's just been asked something. You don't know what, but that's now grabbing your attention and the urge to get to your feet and go over there, asking why they're talking about you – as they obviously are – burns through you, but you hold back on it.
You're drunk, and not in the best state of mind to talk to either of those girls. Dani will probably try and stick her tongue down your throat and Brittany might yell at you or curl into a smaller, pained version of herself after you say something dumb again, which will make you want to ram your head into a wall or down a few more shots just so you can pass out with ease, and so that's not at the top of your list.
So staying here is good. It's safe.
Even if they're obviously talking about you and not trying to hide it.
"Santana?" Artie calls and your eyes snap to him, remembering you were about to tell them about the soon to be deleted scene.
But in your peripheral vision, you see Brittany shrug at Dani, saying something you can't hear as you're on the other side of the room, and then the brunette is up on her feet, her eyes finding yours and the breath is sucked from your chest as she shoots you a confident smirk.
It's a lot like when she walked into the audition, with her head held high and confidence emanating from her, but you're not feeling the same as you did back then, attracted to her aura. How could you? After you did what you did with Brittany twice and realised that the crush you had on her is very much present still, turning into something more the longer time goes on, and you forget all about Kurt and Artie as you watch in slow motion as Dani makes a beeline for you, the smirk growing on her face the closer she gets.
You don't look at her though. You don't know why she's looking at you like that – even if you suspect why – because you're entirely distracted with locking eyes with blue ones, holding them and it's the first time tonight Brittany's looked at you for longer than three seconds. She's maintaining the eye contact, but her face is expressionless bar the crease between her eyebrows and how her lip disappears slightly into her mouth, probably nibbling on it.
You don't know what just happened, and why Brittany shrugged or what she said, but you feel like it's significant because now Dani's stood in front of you, blocking the stare you had with the blonde and your eyes flick up to meet dark ones as the brunette grins down at you.
"Would you leave us alone for a minute please guys?" She says, quickly throwing a glance to Kurt and Artie who are watching the interaction between you, Dani and Brittany – they saw you staring – with jaws slack and eyes wide, like they're in a damn cinema and you desperately want to tell them to stay, but you can't.
It's like the cat got your tongue, because you know the girls were talking about you earlier, but then Sugar left to chase after Puck and something went down between the other two, and now Dani's in front of you with her hands on her hips and a devious glint in her eye. Something inside of you, deep in your gut, knows that Brittany shrugging was in answer to a question asked by Dani, and all you want to do is go over there and demand to know what it is, but Kurt and Artie sliding away from the conversation is pulling your attention.
You wish you hadn't drunk so damn much or maybe you'd be able to get your thoughts in order.
"So," Dani breathes and drops into a crouch, her elbows coming up to rest on your kneecaps and you grip the glass tighter in your hand as she drops one hand to smooth up your jean-cladded thighs. You don't know why she's here, but you already aren't liking it, especially as you can feel blue eyes burning holes your way over her shoulder. "I've tried to be subtle, and even be really obvious, but I don't think you're getting it," she continues and pauses, and you stop breathing completely when she licks her lips and one side of them curves up in a way that you know too well. "So, I'm just gonna be bold."
Fuck.
You know what's coming.
Dani shifts, lifting up slightly and leans into your personal space, now playing with the collar of your shirt and you're frozen in place. What the fuck is happening?
"I'm thinking we should hook up, like, right now," she outright states, her face so close now you can see just how dark her eyes are. They're borderline black, and super fucking pretty but they just pale in comparison to the blue ones you're used to looking back at you at this distance, but that's hard to remember when your insides twist up at the suggestion and after a few seconds, you process what she's saying.
She wants to fuck you. Literally take you into your bedroom down the hall and have her way with you.
Your mouth drops open, jaw hanging loosely, and you never fucking react like this, usually going straight in at such a proposition, like you did with Quinn, but you can't really understand how Dani went from sitting on the sofa on the other side of the room, with Brittany, to kneeling in front of you and offering herself out like this. But the longer you think on it, the quicker your mind comes to a realisation that Brittany shrugged… She fucking shrugged and if it's to do with what Dani's proposing, it means she shrugged to Dani asking her for permission, if that's what even went down.
Being unsure though, and really fucking wanting it not to be true, you know you have to ask and feeling considerably more sober than you did a minute ago, you kick your body into action and lean forward, expecting her to reel back but she doesn't. If anything, she takes it as a positive sign and brown eyes flit down to your lips, before returning up to meet your stare and you stutter, blinking rapidly as you gather your thoughts.
"Why were you over there with Brittany?" Comes from your mouth and not expecting a question in response to her question, Dani jerks back but answers anyway.
"I was asking her opinion on it," she shrugs. "I thought she'd be an issue, so I wanted to run it by her first."
You narrow your eyes. You really need it spelled out for you. This isn't a time to beat around the bush. "Run what by her?"
Not seeing where you're going with this – understandable, really – Dani hesitates, pushing her tongue to the back of her teeth and studying you for a minute, peering over her shoulder once to see Brittany no longer looking your way before returning back, but you're too caught up with wondering why the blonde isn't looking at you anymore that you don't hear her response until she repeats it twice, grabbing at the drink in your hand and taking it from you, dropping it to the floor beside her.
"That I wanted to hook up with you," Dani explains after a long moment with a small shrug. "Wanted to see if she was cool with it."
And it hits you all at once: Brittany doesn't care if you sleep with Dani.
That's why she fucking shrugged, that was the question she was asked, and you choke out a strangled laugh, squeezing your eyes shut and thinking that this is exactly how Brittany must have felt when you told Kurt and Artie you didn't care if she slept with Sam or not in front of her. You feel fucking stupid, and you slump back into the sofa, head tilting back to stare at the ceiling as you wish away the heat prickling at your eyelids, and you're suddenly angry as you think about how bad she made you feel for saying that, then following it up with the sentence of 'I don't just sleep with anyone' as if she meant you were someone to her.
Which you're obviously not now. You know you should go and clarify that with Brittany, but she isn't even fucking looking your way anymore, instead throwing her head back laughing with Sam on the same sofa she was on a minute ago, as he does another ridiculous impression of someone completely irrelevant. Harrison Ford is so thirty years ago, and you know what does it.
The combination of watching Brittany carelessly laugh away with the guy she made out with earlier and is probably going to jump on after the party's over, and the realisation that you're stuck in the same place you were ten years ago, having a pathetic crush over your best friend who doesn't want you back, is still very much a reality, surges through you, creating this bubble of overwhelming emotion that just takes over your mouth and mind and you're talking before you can stop yourself.
You need to hear it in black and white.
"She said it was okay if we hooked up?" You grit out, flaring your nostrils and clenching your jaw as you stare hard at Brittany, but she doesn't meet your eye.
Why can't she just fucking turn her head and look at your face right now? You had to fucking do it after you kissed Dani in that stupid game of spin the bottle, and you've been tormenting yourself for the past half an hour over her reaction because you thought she fucking cared and for what? Just to hear that she's cool with you fucking someone else?
No.
You're not okay with that and you can feel your chest crumbling the more you think it over, a sob threatening to release but the alcohol creating some sort of defence that won't let it come through.
Girl's been giving you mixed signals, and you hate yourself even more than you did before because it was obviously just sex for her. Obviously, you read into it way too much and painted a pretty little picture that Brittany couldn't see, and she hopped into your bed because you're brilliant in there. You're a freaking connoisseur in the sack and she did warn you that you'd want to go back for more, and even though you teased her, she clearly meant it playfully.
Or she wouldn't have shrugged and apparently, given Dani the answer she wanted.
Which is the next thing you hear.
"Yeah," the brunette nods, clearly not picking up on your sudden change in body language and emotion, but she doesn't know you well enough yet and you're good with that. Apparently no-one knows you well enough and okay, you could be the bigger person and just not do it, but in this moment, with this amount of alcohol in your veins and the newfound knowledge that you're allowed to fuck Dani into next week, approved by Brittany herself, you feel the total opposite. "I mean, you are just friends right?"
You still at the question, eyes flitting down to the floor as you think about how to answer that. Had she asked you before telling you she's spoken to Brittany, you'd probably be honest and say you don't have a fucking clue anymore, but this has given you clarity. This is making you see through brand new eyes, uncovering the wool from them to see what the truth is and most likely has been all this time.
That you want her, but she doesn't want you back.
So, you feel like doing exactly as Brittany said you could, and handling this situation the same way you would've done before you slept together. You wanted to claw back the friendship you had with Brittany, and this is the best and easiest way to do it because it shows it was just sex. You're all about that and always have been. It's been preapproved by her too – it's not like Dani would lie and she doesn't look like she's lying either as she eagerly awaits your response with a quirked brow and a smirk – and so why wouldn't you take advantage of it?
You're single, you're hot, and you're sexually available. There's nothing holding you back that's returned, which means you have no reason not to take Dani up on her offer and she's right... You are just friends.
So, you lift your chin, clamping your teeth together as tightly as possible and grab at Dani's hand on your thigh, pushing her back for only a second as you rise to your feet and begin tugging her towards the hallway, ignoring the question, as well as several pairs of eyes that shoot your way, following you the whole way.
If that's what Brittany wants, then that's what Brittany gets.
/
Dum dum daaaaaaa!