Title: After All This Time
Rating: NC-17
Word Count: 10.4k
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: I know the last two have been filler-y, but it was necessary. Some of you are gonna be mad as hell, but some will enjoy. Also, I started writing a Brittany POV, but I'm not sure how I feel about it yet.
/
After the first performance with all these girls dancing and singing on the bars, very few clothing on them but continuing the trend of Sugar's strip club theme – intentional or not, you're still unsure – you're all pushed towards tables that Sugar has set out with a seating arrangement and the best view of the stage. It also has the advantage of not getting soaked by the spray of alcohol as the dancers whip out the champagne bottles for act two, so that helps.
Everyone's cheering and it's actually a pretty impressive. There's obviously been a lot of thought, time and effort put into this and during the performance, you nudge Cassie and speak quietly into her ear, telling her she could take notes from this for back in the city. She glares, but Mercedes agrees which just pisses her off more, but it's funny, and you know it's all down to the choreography, which you're aware of was created by Brittany so she probably can't recreate, but you like being a bitch to her seeing as she does it all the time.
The thought of her makes your eyes search the room until you're finding the blonde across the room, on a table with Kurt, Sam and Artie, and you flash a hesitant smile when she catches your eye and holds it, not knowing why you're staring with a furrow of her brow. You don't get to explain, mostly because you're too far away to do so without yelling, and instead just shrug at her as if it's for no other reason than you can now in a friendly way (because it's totally not weird) and the most beautiful smile tugs creeps across her face as she pushes back a strand of hair, trying to hide a blush that covers her cheeks but fails.
And it's really fucking hard to fall out of love with her when she does shit like that, but she always has done and that's why you became best friends and fell for her, in the first place. You still and always will have this damn connection and it's easier now you don't live in the same apartment with her, but it's also harder because it makes you just miss her more and more. That empty space has been filling, but it's like filling up an Olympic sized swimming pool with a hose… It's just going to take a while to fill completely.
But anyway, you're so caught up in making eye contact and trying to find a way to go over there without looking eager, that you miss Cassie leaning in towards you, only becoming aware of it when blue eyes flit to your side and narrow.
"So that's your ex, huh?"
You freeze at the question, finally tearing your gaze away from Brittany to look at the other blonde, who's close to you, but the performance is still going on and the last thing you need is for Sugar to come and hit you round the head and ask you to pay attention like a naughty school kid because you're talking loudly.
"What? No," you object, trying to keep your voice hushed but you weren't expecting Cassie to assume the relationship between you and Brittany, even if there was a time where you and Brittany used to joke about it seeing as everyone thought there was something going on when there really wasn't. Artie even thought that, in the brief stint where he dated Brittany, but up until that damn scene, nothing ever actually did happen, but now the assumption bothers you because you wish she was your ex in some ways. At least then something would've happened, even if it had ended.
"She's not my ex," you state and take a sip of your drink, feeling ten times hotter than you were before anything was said and now it's awkward. Back on the plane, you asked them not to bring up your scene and you tried to play it coy, coming across like it was embarrassing, but you did make sure to avoid all mention of the blonde you did your scene with and now you can see Mercedes and Cassie connecting the dots inside their minds as you glance between them, sat either side of you.
"Bitch, please," Mercedes snorts quietly, holding out her drink towards you with a knowing grin. "You swallowed your damn tongue when she walked in earlier, so don't bullshit us."
You would argue, but you know you were rendered speechless when you saw Brittany earlier, but that's so not the point. The less they know, the better, and if you admit the partial truth then you're not exactly lying either and maybe they'll stop pestering you. "She really isn't my ex… We never dated or anything."
"So you just fucked?"
You choke and flash a glare at Cassie. "Yeah for the film obviously, but we were best friends, too," you try, eying the blonde next to you to see if she's buying it, but she's got her neck craned and is peering over your shoulder and it's really annoying because you know who she's looking at. "Would you quit it? She's going to know we're talking about her."
"She's hot," Cassie shrugs and flashes an evil grin at you. "And I think she already knows we're talking about her," she nods her head.
This time, you do follow her line of sight but luckily, Brittany isn't looking towards you, instead caught up in talking to some of the dancers who skip over to her, probably preparing for the next performance, and it allows you to look away sooner than you expected because that doesn't prove Cassie's point. Although you do take a few seconds to admire how fucking incredible she looks in a simple dress and her hair straightened, down her shoulders.
"Yeah, she's beautiful," you sigh, unaware you've said the words until Mercedes presses her lips together, brows raising like there's only one reason you would say that and you're really not helping yourself here because that reason is true, and Cassie snorts out a laugh at you. "But she still isn't my ex," you deadpan and drop your vision to your glass.
"What happened then? Why do you keep longingly staring at each from across the room?" Mercedes teases and you scowl at her again.
"We aren't longingly staring at each other," you defend but, she's kind of got a point. You've caught her eye like ten times during the performance and it was only 3 minutes long, and you know you aren't going to avoid this forever, so you can reveal some of the truth without going into everything that happened. "She was my best friend and then the film happened and we just kind of… Fell out."
Cassie leans in again, lowering her voice and you guess she's picking up on how weird you're being about this. You'd rather not talk about it, but they're forcing your hand here. "Did you fall out because you had sex?"
You suck your lips into your mouth and think about everything that happened. Technically, no, you didn't fall out because you had sex, that was just the beginning of a very steep mountain you didn't know you had to climb. You fell out because you said you loved her, and she didn't say it back and you wish in some ways you'd never done that damn porno or you'd be as ignorant as before, fucking around with whoever and flirting and cuddling with your best friend in your shared apartment, and life would just be simple.
But it isn't, and there's a long list of reasons that contributed to the fallout of you and Brittany, but that's in the past and you're here to rebuild something new, but different, with her and talking about the past isn't going to help that.
"Kind of," you reply after a long while, spinning your glass in your hand as you pretend to focus on the current performance ending, and how the dancers all begin pouring various liquor into the customers mouths. "It's a long story, but all that matter is that we're trying to be friends again."
Both of the girls accept it with a silent nod, Mercedes looking more empathetic and Cassie mildly unimpressed, but you choose not react. You can't even bring yourself to rehash over the story of you and Brittany, mostly because it's a whole mess of crap and thinking about it only hurts. They're shocked you slept together for a porno, so you're not even going to begin telling them that you slept together again after that… Then again when you came back last month.
That won't help trying to prove she isn't your ex because she isn't. Ex best friend perhaps, but you don't want to think it's the end of your friendship, just a step back or two so you'd prefer to avoid labels.
"Well, I don't know 'bout you honey," Mercedes draws out, taking a sip of her drink. "But all I know is if looks could kill, we'd both be dead," she states and you're confused for a second, but then both of them are smirking over your shoulder and you peer around in time to catch Brittany this time, whose narrowed glare turns soft the second your eyes land on her, and then she blinks away, reddening in the face and getting up from her table, following some of the dancers who head off to the backstage.
/
A little later on, you're outside with Puck and Cassie, leaning against a brick wall round the corner from the bar and all of you have cigarettes in hand.
You don't usually smoke, but you needed fresh air and then Puck whipped out a pack of smokes and well, you needed one so that was your version of fresh air. They've been flirting, and it's been grossing you out and annoying you slightly as you're pretty sure Puck is still 'banging Sugar on the regular' as he so eloquently puts it, but she's like, right inside so you guess it can't be an issue. Plus, Sugar's been hitting on pretty much everyone the entire night, so you can't really blame Puck for taking advantage of a hot blonde from the city who's older than him. It's like his kryptonite.
Anyway, it's not your problem and you all smoke together until Puck offers to buy Cassie a drink, and that's where you decide to chime in. He throws down his smoke, stepping on the butt of the discarded cigarette on the sidewalk and offers out a hand to the blonde, a smirk on face.
"Aren't you dating Sugar?" You ask, pointing out the obvious.
There's literally a sign above his head that reads Sugary Sweetness – you didn't come up with the name of the club, and you don't like it but whatever – that should be a reminder that his actual girl is inside the building behind him, seeing as she owns it and all. Cassie whips her head around; Puck's eyes go wide, and you smirk. He hasn't told Cassie that apparently and now you're feeling kind of glad as you're not sure Cassie would've wanted to go through with a drink if he's shacked up.
But, apparently you're wrong. Not surprising seeing as you don't really know your boss that well, but it's not your problem and Cassie looks back to Puck and shrugs like she doesn't care.
"We aren't dating exclusively," he fires back, and Cassie takes out his offered hand, moving towards the club entrance but they both pause, and Puck looks over his shoulder at you. "You coming?"
You hold up the small amount of cigarette in the air. "Nah, I'm gonna finish this. You guys go ahead, I'll be in, in a sec."
They both flash a light tipped smile and then disappear inside, and you let out a long breath, tipping your head back against the brick and staring up at the night sky. You attempt to blow smoke rings and pull your mind away from the one thing that's been pinging around inside your skull, but ultimately you know it's pointless. All you can think about is Brittany, Brittany, Brittany and how she doesn't know who Cassie and Mercedes are specifically, and how she hasn't looked at you for like an hour now, and how you haven't actually spoken to her properly, nor have you had alone time since you were in Lima last and all you can think about is how much you want that.
But you also know that's risky. You've been saving up the money from the X rated movie in case you need to come back to Lima like Kurt suggested over a month ago, but you're unsure if you're going to still. There's still a lot of crap to sort out, like your apartment, and you really do enjoy your job, and your girls and the city, even if it feels like there's a huge chunk missing all the time, but that could with time. Or at least you're hoping it's at least a possibility.
Plus, you're building a friendship with Brittany over text and it's making life so much easier. You no longer want to see how many tequilas you can drink before you black out when you're at work, or scroll through social medias under an anonymous profile, and you actually text your friends in the group chat and separately, so it's been good for the month you've spent in New York, trying to figure out what your next move is.
Anyway, you don't get much more time alone before you hear bouncers greet someone from the right as they hold open the doors and peer down from the stars, finding Brittany stepping outside, wrapping her arms around her waist, and looking down the wrong way of the street before turning to spot you a small distance away, tucked behind the wall and away from the queue that's still there.
You'd be impressed that people are still waiting to get in, hours after opening, if it wasn't for the way Brittany's smile lights up the whole freaking street and you're momentarily distracted by the way her blue eyes begin sparkling the second they land on you, like she found what she was looking for.
(You really try not to let your stomach flip, but she just has that effect on you now.)
(Even if you aren't what you thought you could be, this friendship thing is good, it's safe.)
"Hey," Brittany breathes, coming closer and taking residence on the wall beside you, resting her back against the brick but rolling her head to the side to look at you. "I've been looking for you," she follows and bites on her bottom lip and you hum at her, trying to conceal the cigarette because she never approved of you smoking, but much to your surprise, blue eyes dart down and then back up to meet brown. "Can I have some?"
A little shocked, you accept because okay, that's weird, but she's a grown woman and maybe she's changed, so you hand it over to her, watching the way her nose scrunches up when she plucks it from between your fingers, bringing it to her mouth. It looks so foreign, and you suck in the light laugh that threatens to spill as she takes a small drag, instantly wrinkling her face with utter dislike but blows out the smoke smoothly, without even choking. Which, for a non-smoker, is impressive. Not that you're a smoker, but it was prevalent in the first three months after leaving Lima and like you said, it's your fresh air.
"Nope. I still don't like it," Brittany comments, handing you the cigarette back and you shake your head, watching her face with amusement and take it away. You don't know how, but she always makes you feel better just by being there and you find yourself looking at her for a beat too long as you think about how much you've missed these moments with her, the best friend moments. "It's like licking an ashtray."
You snort. "How would you know what licking an ashtray is like?"
Brittany grins and shoots you a sharp look. "You know I used to do all the dares at parties back in high school," she tells you and well, yeah, you remember. Not that you were invited to most of the parties, but you used to pick her up when she was borderline black out, mumbling incoherently but they're good memories for you. Even if you had a major thing for her back then and now looking back, it's totally obvious. You still freaking have it.
"Yeah… Two tequilas and you're the new daredevil," you chuckle, and Brittany bobs her head, laughing as you both reminisce about the past and it's nice. It's calming. It's everything the last trip wasn't, and you think you're going to be able to get a hold of yourself if this is the way it's going to be truly platonic and everything.
"That is how I ended up doing the first sex tape," she replies, and nope, okay, you were wrong. Maybe you can't get a hold because that response doesn't hit you in the way you want it to, instead reminding you that you are just another sex tape story now. It sits heavily in the pit of your stomach, and you resist the urge to wince against it, even though the air somehow just got chillier around you.
The shift in your mood must show, probably because you don't laugh along like you were and suck your lips into your mouth, but then she turns and rests on her shoulder against the wall, quirking a brow and reading you like she used to. You hate and love that. You two can't be friends if she does shit like this and it's all the things she used to do, which wasn't a problem then, but now you're like kind of in love with her and trying desperately not to be and her looking at you like that? Challenges your motivation.
"That's the only one I regret, by the way," Brittany continues, voice low and you can't help but look to her, finding her half-smiling and lifting the free shoulder up, like she's just telling you to tell you. "Where are your friends?"
You frown, even though it's a nice steer away from the awkwardness that just crept in, and you take another drag, blowing it out in a smooth line and you can't help but notice the way blue eyes follow the movement, like you're a dragon breathing fire, but in a cool way. Her lips are parted, face soft and she slowly brings her gaze back to you, awaiting an answer but you're a little distracted. Something that seems to be happening all over again, just like it used to.
"Inside… Puck's hitting on Cassie and I think Sam was chatting up Mercedes."
Brittany returns to her feet, the motion too quick for it not to be suspicious and you eye her curiously, seeing her eyes widen just the slightest like she didn't mean to do that. "Doesn't that bother you? That Puck's hitting on Cassie?"
That completely throws you off, and you stare at her, conveying that and searching for a reason why you'd be bothered, but it only takes two seconds for the lightbulb to flick on and you choke out the next drag you take, spluttering as you try to regain breath. She thinks you and Cassie are like, a thing – probably as your boss is physically your type, hot and blonde – and maybe that means Brittany was actually giving your boss evils from across the club, like Mercedes said she was, but you were distracted by correcting them about Brittany being your ex and finding other reasons why Brittany would be doing it.
But now it's staring you in the face, blatantly obvious and you know jealousy when you see it. You just didn't want to admit that before because it just makes this whole thing harder. Brittany has no right to be jealous as she isn't your girlfriend or even your best friend anymore, like you were trying to tell the city girls. She's just Brittany and you still don't really know what she is to you now. You think you're friends, though. Or at least getting there.
"What? God-No, Britt," you get out through a strained throat. "It's definitely not like that. She's my boss and kind of invited herself along after finding the porno online and she pretty much repulses me in every way."
Brittany's eyes flash with relief, her body sagging a little and you force yourself not to notice as she quickly passes to confusion, registering the first part of your sentence and thankfully, that's the part she lingers on. "She found it?" She asks, her voice a little desperate as she scuffs the bottom of her shoe against the sidewalk. You hear the other question of why you didn't tell them initially, but you don't know how to answer that. "What did they say?"
"Cassie seemed impressed and Mercedes said I should be called Spanish Mumba," you retort, because it's the truth and it's funny in hindsight, but at the time you were shocked that Mercedes and Cassie weren't instantly judging you for having the situation in your pants.
Brittany bursts into laughter, shaking her head but looking at her feet and you join in, enjoying the way it's starting to feel easy like it used to, and again, you're getting hopeful that you can just be like this from now on, and somehow find your way back to being close like you were.
Well, not exactly like you were. Maybe less touching and cuddling. You're only human and it was hard to resist when you didn't know how good she was in bed, but now you do and that's a memory that's here to stay.
"That's crazy," Brittany finally replies and leans back against the wall as you flick your cigarette out into the street, watching it roll into a nearby drain. "Not like she's wrong though," she continues, and the laughter shortly dies out when she rolls her head again to stare at your profile, but you don't look back. If you look at her for too long, you'll be stuck doing it. Like a good version of Medusa. "And you definitely know what you're doing and they saw proof, so it's a win-win."
You freeze instantly, hearing her voice drop and ignore the itch in your neck, making you want to look at her. But it's stupid, and the moment of resistance is fleeting as the itch is too strong, and you didn't even hug her earlier, so you're kind of dying to touch her and you'd recognise her tone from anywhere now. The first time you heard it like that was on the set, filming the porno. The second time you heard it was she was breathing your name into your ear in your bedroom, almost five months ago, and the most recent time, the third time, was when you were down in Artie's basement and your mind blacks out as the memories flash across your brain.
So, you give in, sliding your eyes to the side and only turning your head an inch, but she's already staring back at you, eyes narrowed and a smirk on one side of her mouth, whilst the other is sucked in, but you've got to play this off, even if you think she's flirting with you. She has got to know what she's doing, and you're shocked that she's being so bold, but it also is really fucking confusing. You know you two used to flirt when you were friends, but you didn't think you were at that stage yet and your entire body continues in its frozen state as you stare back at her.
What the fuck are you supposed to say to that?
"Uh, yeah," you manage to force out, not knowing if you're going to come across like a massive douchebag for agreeing you're good in bed – even though you used to be cocky and well, you are good in bed – but when Brittany says it, it hits you different.
You don't know how to be cocky with her anymore. She makes you lose all your confidence. She walks into the fucking room, and you don't even know what to do. You're always a fucking mess around her, always super vulnerable and you take a second to think about how stupid you were for believing that you could put the walls up now. That time would just give you that ability and you almost laugh, but then Brittany's pushing off the wall again and taking one long stride towards you, unfolding her arms, and pulling you to face her, but not holding your grasp so you're not touching anymore, and you're thrown into another state of confusion, but for a different reason this time.
Why isn't she touching you, and why is your body still on fire from when she was two seconds ago?
Oh, yeah. Because it's Brittany.
She doesn't seem to be phased, or confused about her actions, and you realise she's purposefully not touching you, probably not knowing if it's okay to be like she used to with you, even after flirting which you just sort of skipped over.
It's kind of nice, but kind of awful at the same time because you feel like if she just acted naturally, then you would too, and things would be easier. Except commenting on your bedroom skills really isn't something you think you'll ever be entirely comfortable with, mostly because it just makes you want to prove her point, but also because the last time you had sex it wasn't just sex and as much as you'd like to think you could be friends with benefits with her, you know you're not capable of that.
You've caught the feels for her and they're holding strong. No matter what you do, apparently, and she said she wanted her best friend back and you're trying to do that but it's like grasping at a rope on it's last tethered string when she says stuff like that.
"Did I say something wrong?" She finally asks, her voice in a whisper, even though it doesn't need to be as the bouncers are too far away to overhear, but also because there's literally no-one around you. The queue is on the other side of the building, and you're tucked away around a corner.
Still, you kind of wish there was someone in eavesdropping distance as then you could use that as an out, but instead, you're forced to reply and you say the first thing that comes to mind, which isn't the wisest. You could get angry, but you don't think you have it in you to do that, regardless of the small voice in the back of your mind telling you that yes, she did say something wrong, but she didn't. She's just trying to be normal with you and this is your normal.
So you're not mad, and that's what comes out your mouth.
"No, it's okay," you say and lift a shoulder, thinking if you can try to play this off like you used to, all cocky and shit, that it won't be a thing. "It's not like it's not true," you shrug, even though the words almost get lodged in your throat and squint as the next flow out. "You know what you're doing too... We were great together."
Well, you didn't mean to be that honest, but it's obviously the right thing to say because Brittany lifts her chin, tilts her head, and lets her eyes drag down your body, blinking slowly as she returns to your ones. It makes you cower a little, as she kind of takes your breath away when she looks at you like that, but then she's licking her lips and you swear everything goes in slow motion as she lifts a hand, dragging it down the dip in your throat, over your necklace to your chest and stops on your breastbone, a safe distance away from your actual boobs but too close to where your heart is, and you take in a sharp gasp at the sound and tone of her voice as she speaks.
"We were better than great," she purrs, and you swallow thickly, too close to her face now to think about anything other than kissing her.
She's got to know that, right?
"Which time was your favourite though?" She continues, breathing out the words and you can hear the quiver in her voice, letting you know as confident as she's coming across, she is holding back a little. "Because I know which time I thought was the best."
But it's been over a month since she's been this close to you. The last time she was even in touching distance, bar two minutes ago for a split second when she grabbed you, was thirty days ago when you were hugging her on the sidewalk, wishing that she'd just come after you and tell you not to go back to New York. That wouldn't have been the right thing to do, and more of a rom-com film ending and your life isn't like that, regardless of the times where it really fucking feels like it with Brittany, and you thought that it was good when you were back in the city.
You thought that having space to build a friendship with her where you couldn't see her and get mixed signals like this, would make it easier when you did see her, but now she's all up in your grill, palm now resting on the left-hand side of your chest and you're sucking in a shaky breath when her fingertips span beneath the strap of your dress.
If she doesn't stop touching you in less than three seconds, you're going to break.
So, you answer her question instead. That'll pull focus away from your urges. "The second time," you breathe, mind flashing back to when Brittany came into your room in the dead of night, and how it just happened so naturally even though you initially had no idea what she was doing there. You should've. It was the same day you had sex for the first time. "That time was…"
"Yeah," Brittany interjects, through a breathless whisper and chews on her bottom lip, eyes flitting down to yours and then back up to meet your gaze. "That was mine, too."
You gulp, only able to nod your head to agree with her as words have vanished, and you guess the silence isn't a good one when Brittany blinks rapidly, like she's getting herself out of a daze and takes a step back, arm falling to her side, the cool night air chilling your body instantly. You weren't even pressed against her, but your body was on fire because she was too close and had her hand on you, so her moving back was probably the right thing to do before you did something stupid like kiss her.
(Even if you're pretty sure she was about to kiss you, but she stepped back, so.)
"We better get back inside," you follow up, trying to strengthen your voice with a clear of your throat, but Brittany just snaps her eyes up and stares.
You hold it, not wanting her to leave despite what you said, but the silence goes on for too long on your side apparently as she exhales loudly through her nose, bobbing her head just once before spinning on her heel.
And you don't know what does it, but you suspect it's because it's becoming at thing, her walking away from you, or maybe because you swear you saw disappointment in your suggestion.
But you think it's the first one, because she walked away from you at the bar the first night you came back to Lima after a lame two-minute conversation. She did it when you said goodbye and she stood back, silently telling everyone she wasn't going to the airport with you, Kurt, and Artie, and now she's doing it again. But whatever it is that triggers you, you find yourself moving without conscious thought and grab her wrist, fingers pressing into her hammering pulse beneath your touch, and you tug gently, causing her to spin around.
You don't want her to walk away from you again.
There isn't even a coherent thought in your head as she loses her balance because your arms catch her quickly and then she's too close again and this time, something snaps inside of you. Like a rubber band stretched for too long, you give into the hardest yank in your stomach and slide your hand up her back, over her shoulder and anchoring on her cheek, holding it for the quickest of moments before you're pressing your lips to hers before you can even tell yourself to.
Brittany gasps, but her body whips into action before you can even register what you're doing and she's pressing hard into you, shifting her lips so she can suck in your bottom one and her hands shoot to your hips, steering you back a few steps until you're backed into the wall you were leaning on. The kiss is fierce, and electric, but somehow so fucking soft that you can't contain the moan that bubbles up your throat, your knees buckling when her tongue flicks against yours like it's always done it, but she's right there, body pressing into yours to pin you to the wall, so you don't slide down it and fuck.
You really didn't think this was going that way, but you don't think you could stop if you tried, nor do you care why it's happened even though it's probably not the smartest move.
Hands scramble at your hips, bunching up into fists and then they're reaching for yours, coming up to either side of your head, pressing into the brick and Brittany breaks the kiss, breathing hard and heavy into you as dark blue eyes bore into yours. She smirks, making heat pool low in your stomach and you search ocean blue for three seconds before the blonde is dipping her head, teeth grazing along the underside of your jaw before her tongue flicks out against your pulse and lips latch onto your skin, sucking gently.
Again, your knees buckle but Brittany smirks against your neck, her body shuddering when you groan loudly into the air above your head and your eyes focus on the streetlight dangling above you for a minute before you realise you're on the freaking street, out of hearing distance but not out of seeing distance.
"Britt... Britt," you manage to get out, even though the words are stuttered because she's not stopping doing that thing with her tongue dragging up your throat and it's entirely distracting, but you don't even know why you're saying her name because you don't want her to stop.
Except she does, after a long, long moment of giggling against your neck and she's pulling back, swollen lips, hair tousled and eyes so dark you could melt. She's so fucking beautiful and you can't help but steal a second to admire it before you realise what you're doing and how the back of your hands are hurting from the force she's pushing them into the wall, even though it's so worth the pain.
"People might see us," you say, not really choosing the words as you don't have the ability to do anything other than breathe, and even that's not going too well, but Brittany just smirks at you, seeming like she doesn't care but you don't think the innocent bystanders will appreciate you two dry humping in the corner.
Although you don't have to worry about other people seeing, because Brittany's stepping away from you, ignoring the slight whine you release as she moves and drops one hand, keeping the other hand grasped within hers as she looks left and right and then you're pulled away from the club without another word.
/
You don't get far.
You don't even get to your rented accommodation or her place that used to be yours, too.
No. Instead, you make it down one street before Brittany's pulling you into a dark alley with one broken light at the other end and hooking her fingers into the straps of your dress, yanking you forward with a devilish grin until your mouths come back together again and this time you're pressing her into the wall. Her tongue strokes into your mouth, your hands shooting to her hips, and you push your own into hers after, trying to relieve some of the pressure beneath your confinement boxers.
This dress is great and all, but it comes with the responsibility of hiding your secret (which shouldn't have been an issue when you chose it, but you didn't exactly expect to be doing this) and you can feel the familiar heat burning in your groin, the ache of being tucked away and you need to relieve it. You're already hard and it's because Brittany's nails are scratching your scalp, hands manipulating the angle of the kiss and she's moaning into your mouth when your fingers run along the hem of her dress, and this is all too much. Your body feels like it's on fire, your skin scorching and there's a serious lack of oxygen.
You shouldn't be doing it, or thinking how this fourth time could be your new favourite time with her as it's like the second time all over again by just doing it because you both just want to, but your body has other ideas and so does Brittany and you're confidently pushing up the hem of her dress, bunching it over her hips and doing the same to your own quickly, maintaining a sloppy kiss as you fumble to push down the tight elastic of your boxers. Then you're springing free, your heated skin instantly chilly as it's not exactly warm outside, but you're burning in a different way now and Brittany smiles into the kiss when you reach down and grip at the base of your cock, hoping that the cold won't have a negative effect.
Although you're pretty sure a freaking hurricane wouldn't be able to interrupt, with Brittany pulling back to look into your eyes with a too soft smile considering you're about to have sex in an alley, nodding her at the question you're yet to ask, it's enough to know that you can do what you're dying to do.
You whimper, thinking you should be embarrassed at the sound, but Brittany's eyes narrow at it, her eyes turning a shade darker and she's surging forward again, making you whimper over and over as she bites down on your bottom lip and pulls back the flesh, breathing hard and heavy, your heart thumping in time with hers.
"San…" Brittany whispers, releasing your lip and sucking her own into her mouth, moaning at the taste of you but you freeze, noticing a flash behind her eyes. "I-I need you," she gets out brokenly, arms sliding around your neck as you shuffle forward, one of her legs coming up so you can hook beneath her knee and shift, lining yourself up against, careful not to find out how wet she is. Once you do, you won't be able to control yourself and there's this lingering doubt in the back of your mind as you hover over her words.
You don't think she just meant she needs you in this moment or specifically in that way. You think she means that she needs you. Or at least that's what you're taking from the way she exhales shakily and not from pent up arousal and anticipation, eyes meeting yours and locking in a long moment, like she's trying to add something silent on to the end of her last sentence.
But you can't hold back any longer. Especially when fingers stroke down the back of your neck and you shiver, not from the cold this time. You're not even a little chilly right now and you adjust into a comfortable position, taking the opportunity to look left and right quickly, mentally noting down that this is dark enough and there's a large dumpster a few meters down blocking your view from anyone walking past.
You don't even know how you got here but Brittany was leading, and you were entirely distracted by the simple act of kissing her and now you're literally inches away from where you need to be, and arousal is curdling hot and deep. But all you want to do is be deep in her, and you adjust your grip on her hip, still gripping the base of your cock with your other and you confidently move forward, rubbing the tip between her folds and hissing as her warm juices coat you.
Fuck. She's so ready for you.
"San…" She breathes, biting hard on her bottom lip and you draw your gaze up from what you were just doing to her eyes again, too turned on to ask if this is really the best thing for you two to be doing, but right now, you don't fucking care.
You've never seen something as sexy as her. You've never been so fucking hot for someone and then there's hands coming to your cheeks, holding them carefully and Brittany's tilting her head to kiss you softly, parting your mouths for the briefest of seconds to nod quickly, and you take that as a sign to proceed, pushing into her and groaning loudly as the hot, wet suction encompasses you. She whimpers, dropping her head and biting down on the crook of your neck and you grunt as you continue sliding into her, only exhaling fully when you're as deep as you can go, the hand on her thigh squeezing to make sure she's okay.
After all, you are against a wall, with her leg propped up and spread open, and you're so fucking glad she has a dancers strength to hold her up with her other leg because you're already struggling to maintain balance and keep your own knees from buckling. She just feels so damn good. You just feel so damn good, buried inside of her and you hold still for a few seconds, nudging her head up from your shoulder to tip your foreheads together as you get used to the feeling of being connected again.
It may only be the fourth time, but it feels like you've been doing this for so much longer.
Blue eyes flutter as you draw back slowly, Brittany's hands still on your cheeks but they drop to your shoulders, gripping on as you use the wall as leverage and lean into her, beginning a slow tempo with your hips. Tiny whimpers escape her mouth, breath panting against the lower half of your face, but you can't help but stare. You can't help but watch every time you hit that spot inside of her, and how the little crinkle forms between her eyebrows, or how she tries to look at you but can't as you fuck her the way she likes it.
She's so tight and wet around you, and you know you're not going to last long. Not just because this is everything your body has needed in the month you've been apart, but because you're in an alley and you did tell Puck and Cassie you wouldn't be long after they left to go inside, so it's only a matter of time before someone comes looking for you two. Or just assumes that you've disappeared together and you're so not ready to deal with that just yet.
You're not even ready to deal with the consequences of fucking Brittany in an alley, a street or so away from where you're supposed to be and doing what you're supposed to be doing – celebrating Sugar's new club and making sure your friends from the city are okay – but you'll worry about that later.
Still, you know you've got to get a move on and increase the thrust of your hips, enjoying the way Brittany squeaks when you manipulate her leg and urge it higher, opening her up wider so you can fuck her faster and harder. Her hands move from your shoulders to clutch at your neck, holding tightly to keep herself as steady as she can but you know you're beginning to sweat, she's quivering already, and the position is getting uncomfortable. It's only been a minute or so, but you can feel her clenching rhythmically around you, racing towards her peak and you'll be damned if your stamina depletes this quickly and you interrupt her orgasm.
So, for a second, you slow down and drop your hand on her hip to her other leg, sparing a look into her eyes to ask silently if you can take charge and she sucks in a sharp gasp, shocked but excited by the suggestion. You move your grip, sweeping your spare hand to the back of her thighs and in one swift motion, hike her up and press her into the wall, using it to support half her weight. Long legs wrap around your waist, and your palms fall to the flesh of her ass, gripping it and you pick up the speed from where you left off, giving you more depth and stroke in this position and making you moan loudly into mouth as you rest your forehead against hers.
"Fuck," Brittany groans loudly into the air, and you smirk to yourself as you pull back, seeing her biting down on her bottom lip as she flings her head back, but you're quick to release one hand, it shooting up to cradle her skull, just to make sure she doesn't get a headache after this.
The action is familiar, an echo of the first time you had sex and just like back then, a too soft smile graces her lips as she peers down at you through hooded eyes. They sparkle, momentarily distracting you and you fall off rhythm for a split second, but then there's lips on yours again and a tongue stroking into your mouth and you have to return the grip on her ass to stop yourself from buckling to the ground.
The sound of slapping then becomes increasingly louder as you grunt, forcing all your energy into drawing this out but the end is rapidly approaching, and you've only had sex three times prior to this, but you know how to make her come. So, you begin rolling your hips, making sure the low of your stomach applies pressure to her clit and just as expected, with a few deep strokes, tapping the spot that drives her wild, you kiss her and she's tipped over the edge, screaming your name into your mouth.
"San-Santana… Ugh," she groans, her orgasm punching through her, and she squeezes impossibly tight around your member, shock waves pulsing through her and tugging you swiftly over the edge.
"Brittany–Fuck," you grunt, unable to stop saying her name and your eyes bug open as she looks into them, deeply, the heat too much at the base of your spine and kicking you into oblivion.
Then you're coming, your lips finding hers again as much as they can as your own climax punches through you, and you slam into her once, twice, before holding deep inside and coming hard. You spill into her, her hips undulating and legs twitching around your waist, but you just kiss her harder until you're both gasping for breath and thrust up into her a few more times until you're satiated.
She collapses against you with a low moan, her arms and legs falling slack, and you slowly lower her to the ground, chuckling as you bury your face into her neck, nose nuzzling against skin covered with a thin layer of sweat. You don't know why you're laughing, considering that was one of the most intense and exciting orgasms you've ever had – probably due to the thrill of being in public – but Brittany seems to get it regardless and joins in, giggling as you both pant heavily into the darkness.
/
After a few moments, you both become aware of where you're supposed to be.
Brittany moves first, hands coming to your shoulders and pushing slightly, and you wince, retracting your hips back until you slide out from between her, Brittany adjusting properly until her feet are firmly on the ground. She doesn't remove her hands, just slides them to the back of your neck to keep you close and you bite your lip as you glance between you, seeing how messy you were but surprised that you've managed to be relatively clean.
Or at least as clean as you can be when you're in a dark alley after a quickie.
You hear a giggle and glance up, unable to stop yourself from smiling at the blush that covers Brittany's cheeks when she notices what you're staring at, but you just bare your teeth, flashing an apologetic smile this time that she just rolls her eyes at.
"Sorry," you whisper, full well knowing there's some juices on the inside of her dress. Apparently it fell down during, but you were way too invested in watching the colour of her eyes change when she came.
"Never apologise for that," Brittany replies in an equally low tone, but you hear the real meaning of what she's saying, and you can't help but choke on the breath you sharply inhale. God. How can she make you feel like this after what you two just did? "But we should probably be getting back," she adds on, biting on her bottom lip, her eyes showing that she really doesn't want to get back, but you should. Puck and Cassie are definitely wondering where you are by now. "Your friends are probably looking for you."
You clear your throat and step back, pushing down at your dress and watching Brittany do the same as you try to put yourself back together, but there's no way in hell you don't look like you just fucked in an alley because you do. Your hair is a total mess, you really need to go to the bathroom to clean up, and maybe put on some more make-up as you got hot as hell and half of it was wiped off by Brittany's face on yours, but the thing that strikes you the strangest is how much you don't care.
There's no explanation or clarity coming from either of you about what just transpired, and considering the last real deep meaningful conversation you had was down in the basement at Artie's, right before you left over a month ago, which contained finding a way back to being best friends, having just done that has put a spanner in the works. That's not a typical thing for best friends to do, as those benefits are saved for different types of friendships and she knows you had feelings for her and is smart enough to know those haven't just gone away, so you're a little confused.
Surely that means that she feels something for you, beyond the realms of just friends, and you find yourself stilling in your redressing, gulping audibly until you feel eyes on you and then Brittany's inhaling deeply, like she's sensed where your head has gone and her expression changes into a small one. Even her shoulders drop a little as she adjusts herself finally and then takes a step towards you, fiddling with the front of your dress like she's scared to touch you like you weren't deep inside her over a minute ago, chewing her lip as she looks at the motion.
And as much as you want to hear her explain what just happened, you're strangely okay with not knowing. You've prodded before, and been scared back into the dark corner, and somehow you think talking isn't going to be good. As her mouth drops open, you reach down and grasp at her hands, earning her attention and it snaps shut again as she registers the way your eyes are boring into hers, silently conveying that you're okay with not talking about it for now, and that you really need to go back in, which you do with a quirk of the brow.
Brittany exhales shakily but accepts with a small nod and smile and you manage a weak one back, tipping your heads together and resisting all urge to kiss her one final time, instead choosing to shut your eyes and just enjoy the silence and bullshit that's obviously very much still lingering between you. That's the type of shit that can wait for later, or maybe even not at all, mostly because you're fucking terrified of dealing with these consequences and scared shitless that she's going to ask if you're still in love with her, because it's not like you can lie.
Maybe this is a way you can be friends. Maybe you two have incredible sex and that can be the new development, and okay, maybe it isn't fair to you as you bared your soul and she stomped on your heart, but you're okay with sleeping with her because it's easy and you're a grown woman so you can make your own choices. It's easier than the awkward silence or attempted friendly conversation, and it's not like you're around so it won't happen often – just when you visit perhaps – and you can maintain a normal friendship whilst in other cities.
But also… Maybe in time she might realise that it isn't just sex with you two, and she's just taking longer to get there and maybe at some point she'll realise that you two were heading there all this time because you refuse to believe – especially after what just happened – that you're alone in this. You've had this thought before, back when you had sex for the second time, but this feels a lot like that and so you don't need to hear anything from her.
You don't want her to talk, and you don't want to talk, so with one final breath, you pull away from her completely and offer out your hand, jutting your head towards the sidewalk and trying to find an ease with how you act towards her, and this feels natural, so you're good.
She stares at it for a long second, head cocked to the side adorably, but you just roll your eyes, smiling at the sky before she slips her hand into yours and you head back down the street towards the club.
/
No-one seems to be searching for either of you when you return, and you usher Brittany in first, telling her you'll be 30 seconds behind her.
She seems to realise why you're doing it, as it'd be obvious where you'd been if you walked in with her and you have been gone for at least half an hour, and bites on the corner of her bottom lip, nodding weakly. You didn't talk much on the short walk back, just kept stealing glances and you think that's definitely going to be a reoccurring thing now, even if it kind of was before, too. Mercedes did point it out with her jibe about longingly staring at each other, so maybe they've cottoned on to something you were trying to deny.
But you can't think about that right now, and you head back in after waiting, finding Mercedes by the table with Kurt, and they're chatting away, Puck and Cassie over by the bar on what looks like their second drink.
You don't hesitate as you wander up to the table, trying to seem casual as two sets of eyes slide towards you, but you're really hoping Kurt has lost some of his observational skills in your time away, or else he's going to read you like a book.
He did all that time ago, when you slept with Brittany for the first time, then again when he called you out on the elephant in the room and even after that… He's always been irritatingly aware of what's going on with you and Brittany and you just don't need that right now.
"Where did you go?" Mercedes asks the second you slide onto the stool, returning to the drink that now has no ice cubes in it. You've been gone so long they've melted.
"Just for a cigarette," you reply and put a stoic expression on your face. No cigarette lasts for half an hour, but you're hoping Kurt's not going to probe you or Mercedes is going to ask why you're smoking for so long when you barely smoke back in the city, and luckily neither of them do.
Except it's at the moment where you're feeling smug, like you've gotten away with it, that Brittany comes out from the side where the bathrooms are, looking more put together than how you last saw her and she looks around before finding you, smile tugging at her lips but teeth stopping it as she clamps down on the bottom one, trying to conceal it.
It doesn't work though, and you're smiling yourself before you even know, but the only reason you become aware of it is because Kurt clears his throat – like he always used to do – and lets you know with a swift lift of his brow and flit of his eyes, over to the blonde smoothing down her dress across the room, that he's catching on to something again and totally saw that.
God. He just never gives up.
"Didn't know you smoked," he chooses to comment, not highlighting what you think he's going to, and you narrow your eyes at him.
"You don't know a lot of things," you fire back with a smirk and a challenging head tilt because yeah, he doesn't know anything.
Mercedes looks between you, completely oblivious to what you're talking about and shakes her head, laughing. "You guys are weird."
/
Some of ya'll are gonna be mad, telling me they don't talk but it's never that easy. Remember in S2 when Santana took back that she loved Brittany was because she was scared after Brittany didn't say it back? That's how I'm trying to convey AATT Santana, and that's how I view her so there's always going to be similarities between fics when it's her POV.
If you aren't too pissed, leave a comment :)