Compare Scars (To Kill A King)
SANTANA'S POV
I pressed my lips against hers and it was like every hurt that I'd been feeling for weeks washed away.
Her lips pressed back against mine, soft at first and then more urgent as her hand now gripped the back of my neck and held me in place. She nipped at my lips and let out breathy moans as she pulled away for only a split second before kissing me even harder.
My hands were everywhere, her hips and then her ass, more moans, more nipping and I couldn't help but allow myself to enjoy this moment. The papers were signed, and her consciousness was clear as I walked us towards the couch, not wanting to move to the bedroom.
I wanted her bad, but I was hoping I would have her forever, and there was no need to rush it.
If I had my way, this would be a normal thing between us, kissing and touching like nothing else mattered, even though with us, everything always does.
I had kissed her first.
I had moved us to the couch, but when all was said and done, it was her that is hovering above me, knees on either side of my lap...hands resting on the back of the couch as she continued to kiss me like this was the only thing that she's been thinking about since forever.
My hands were on her hips, gripping her tight and waiting...so patiently for her to make the next move because if I've learned anything at all from the way that Brittany can make you feel utterly powerless, Quinn needed more than anything to feel like she was in control of this situation, and I would NOT take that from her.
She put up a front, but I knew just how fragile she was, just as much as she knows how much of a sap I am under all my bullshit.
Match made in the stars, we are.
How is it possible that she's melted my heart so quickly?
Maybe because she's never left it, even for a second.
Her kisses are on the move now. The way that the softness of her lips traveled to my ear had me tilting my head to give her more space to do whatever she wanted with me.
I'm at her mercy and like it; so does she.
"I've wanted this for so long." She whispered. "Every time you put your hair up, I always wanted to nibble on this ear."
"Just this one?" I chuckled, and she bit down, just enough to sting, and I hissed in pleasure...because none of this could hurt...not with her.
"Hmmmm...no. How's that song go...I wanna lick, lick, lick you from your head to your toes..." She sang, and I felt every nerve ending in my body sizzle with sensations I hadn't had in a very long time. "I wanna move from the bed, down to the, down to the floor...I wanna uh...uh...make it so good you don't wanna leave..." And she's kissing again.
"Just let me know, know...oh God...what's your fanta-tasy." I muttered as she bit down on my neck hard enough to mark and then kissed the spot in apology.
"Is this okay?" She asked me, pulling back so we were face to face again. I should be asking this question, but apparently, in her eyes, I'm more fragile than she is.
And she was probably right.
"Honestly..." I wasn't sure what came next, but I didn't even get a chance to decide because her phone started chiming, and she didn't even try to ignore it.
"Hold that thought." She said, jumping off my lap and stumbling to the kitchen where she left her phone.
While she was gone, I sat up and straightened my hair, doing my best to be my sexiest when she returned.
But reality has different plans.
I was sitting there...getting restless after at least five minutes, when she finally returned to the room.
The first thing I noticed was that she had her coat on over my sweater now and had somehow managed to get her pants and shoes on while keeping the phone pressed between her head and shoulder.
Was she leaving?
"It's going to take me some time to get there, but if it's an emergency...are you okay...oh...well no, I can't then. Because I'm in New York." She looked at me and bit her swollen lips. "Never mind why I'm in New York...it's not important."
Ouch.
I tuned the rest of her conversation out and grabbed the pack of cigarettes that I left on the coffee table. Her eyebrows raised as she watched me pull one out and put it to my lips.
All while she stared hard at me.
If this is a test of my ability to read her mind, I'm failing as I light it and inhale all the toxins that will calm my frayed nerves and release all my pushed buttons.
"No." She said as she walked toward me casually. I thought she would sit on the couch, so I moved over to make room when the cigarette was taken from my fingers. I wanted to snap at her, but then I saw her put it to her lips and hesitate. "Damnit, Mother...no. I will not stop what I'm doing to come to LA!" She says and then takes a long drag.
Bliss was on her face as she held her breath before letting out the smoke. I felt like a bad influence on her, but shit, I didn't care now.
Neither of us had quite been ourselves these past few months, and we had been on our way to fixing it before Judy decided to tear our fantasy apart.
"I answered because my child is not with me, and I can't miss a call that might actually be urgent. Russell is not urgent. Ever." She kicked off her shoes and sat down next to me...her hand on my thigh as the cigarette dangled from her lips.
I reached for it, but she turned her face and squeezed my thigh before moving her hand up between my legs and resting it there. I knew she could feel the heat coming from me, even in these jeans, and I boldly pushed against her. She looks at me and raises an eyebrow as she listens to her mother go on and on about whatever family emergency.
She pushed her hand down, and I felt a jolt of pleasure as she did it just the right way. I bit back a moan, and she could tell because there was a sneaky little light in her eyes.
I snatched the cigarette back since both her hands were occupied, and she pressed her hand down again in response. I nearly dropped the thing and set us both on fire, but thankfully, I didn't because that would mess the mood up even more.
"Okay...look...Beth wants to spend Christmas in New York, every year, Shelby took her to Broadway and to skate at Rockefeller plaza, and I'd like to give her that." She moves her hand from where it's been resting at the mention of Beth because the conversation has turned serious. "No. I don't care if I'm her birth mom, Shelby was the only mom she knew until recently, and I'm not going to erase that part of her life. Look, I'm busy...I'll call you when I get home. I don't need the lecture. I'm an adult...no...no...I don't care. Yes...I always think about Beth. No. Enough, mother...goodbye...no. Bye!"
Okay...maybe I was important after all. Q hung up the phone and put it on the coffee table before sitting back and staring at the ceiling.
"What happened?" I asked, handing the cigarette back to her, but she just took it and put it in the empty ashtray. Whatever moment of rebellion she was having has passed, and she's back to being in this moment...at least...for the most part.
"It's dumb and not worth repeating. I saw your face. I didn't mean to imply that you weren't important. That couldn't be further from the truth. I was trying to throw her off my scent, but Mother knows I'm here...she knows I'm with you and by tomorrow...the whole town will probably know. Namely, Brittany, and I'm sorry if being here fucks up the divorce, but I couldn't let you spend this holiday alone and-" She was babbling, and I couldn't help but lean over and pull her lips against mine.
Maybe it was to shut her up, or maybe I didn't care about anything other than the fact that she chose me right back, and God help me; I think I love her even more for it.
"What was that for?" She asked as I pulled back and looked into those amazing eyes.
"For loving me as I am...and meeting me in my darkness and turning the light on."
She kissed me back and then smiled. "You're such a sappy dork, you know that, right?"
"Shit...did my face turn into a mirror again?" I teased, and she let out a giggle...like a legit all-out giggle, and it was the cutest thing that I think I've ever heard.
"I will always turn the light on, by the way. I will always love you as you are and give you what you need. Even when you don't know you need it. You were right earlier; I see that now. I don't want to save you. I want you to save yourself. Because you are way too flawless-"
"We are too flawless." I corrected.
She rolled her eyes but didn't miss a beat.
"We are too flawless to be damsels in distress. We've got to save ourselves..."
"Even if I've been doing a shitty job of that."
She looked around the room and then back at me and shook her head.
"No...that's not true. Stop beating yourself up. If you want to be in that family picture. If you want to be more than stolen moments, then you already know what you need to do to get there, and I know you will do it in your own way, but the Santana that I love gets what she wants in the end."
"Do I?"
"You already know the answers to the stupid questions. I love you, and I will keep loving you...even through your darkness...just like you loved me, pink hair and all."
All my thoughts spilled from me like word vomit when I saw the wonder in her eyes because seeing how she looked at me made me anxious. I hated the uncertainty that was clawing at my insides and threatening to tear me apart.
I didn't deserve to have her there looking at me like I was the center of her universe when I didn't belong anywhere in her orbit, but there she was, looking at me like she was ready to save me from myself.
Only she had no idea what that would entail.
"I need a drink...how about you?" I asked while my mind was on hyperdrive, and my hands were beginning to shake.
I needed to distract and be distracted.
How was she here showing me love after everything she'd been through?
It was unbelievable that she chose me over her family and her kid.
How was I so fucking lucky?
God help me!
Despite my nervous interruption, the light didn't leave her eyes; her smile just got smug, and she nodded.
"Actually...I do."
"Good! Why don't you pick a movie, and I'll go make some margaritas." I said, forcing a smile through my blind panic as I stood up from the couch without even glancing at her.
I needed a moment...several moments, actually, and I was hoping that she would get it.
Frankly, I was hoping that she'd get me.
I'd been through hell since I'd seen her last, and I knew that the wreckage of my marriage was so monumental that it could easily spill into her life, and that's the last thing I wanted.
So even though she was there, saying all the right shit, I didn't want to hear it.
Not when I felt so incredibly low and could get addicted to her words.
QUINN'S POV
A lesser person would have taken her abrupt change of subject personally, but Santana can be a bit of a coward sometimes, and I can't say that I didn't expect it when I started dropping the word love.
In fact, I was actually happy to see more and more glimpses of the Santana that she was at Mr. Schue's wedding...back before Brittany sunk her claws back into her.
When I gave her a glimmer of hope that she could be in that family picture, her eyes widened, and all the hope in the world was in her eyes.
Brittany had done everything to leech every piece of joy from Santana's life, but I was proudly there filling in the cracks...even though she was terrified.
Brittany had hurt me, and she had stood by her.
Everyone back home saw her as the villain because they didn't know the whole story, but those who knew it all were behind her.
But like the coward she could be, she wasn't showing it.
I'd need to drag her into the light, kicking and screaming.
She hated to need people.
I understood that more than anyone, but if she needed no one else, I wanted her to need me.
But I had to bide my time, so I said a mini prayer when she left me sitting there alone.
I didn't take it personally when she rushed into the kitchen, her fingers running through her hair as she tried her best to soothe the panic she was no doubt feeling.
The ink wasn't even dry on her divorce papers, and I was throwing myself into her lap, but you know what? I felt no shame.
She needed this...me.
Sure, she might be overwhelmed at the moment, but she'd get past it.
Especially after she's had a few drinks.
And when she was ready to acknowledge that she needed me, I would be waiting with open arms.
...FIRST MARGARITA...
SANTANA'S POV
"What the hell are we watching, Q?" I asked as I sipped my margarita. I'd slipped more tequila in mine than hers, but I wasn't going to let her know that.
"It's a semi-autobiographical docu-thriller...I can never watch this at home. Is it that bad? You don't like it? If you don't, I can change it. Is this okay?" She asks, her eyebrow arched and her bottom lip between her teeth. My God, I want to be the one to bite that lip.
And the way those eyes were looking at me, I felt the blush in my cheeks as I looked back to the screen.
"No. I uh...I don't really have an opinion on these kinds of shows, but that's probably because..." I trailed off, thinking it would be better to shut up. "Forget it."
"Too late...tell me...Because what, Santana?" She asks, pausing the movie so that she can give me her full attention.
Which was NOT what I wanted.
"Never mind." I say, stealing the remote back and pressing play.
She snatches the remote back and glares at the side of my face.
But I didn't break until she cleared her throat in that annoying fucking way of hers.
The moment I turned to glare at her, she won as she pounced.
"No. Say what you were going to say...I won't be upset." Her tone was too sweet, and I should've known better, but I had liquid courage running through me, and she had asked, so I didn't allow myself to feel guilty. Instead, I tried ignoring her.
"It's fine, let's watch." I say as sweetly as I can before downing the last of my drink and then returning my eyes to the screen, doing my best to pretend to watch the most depressing documentary ever created because I don't want to be an asshole...but her glare is starting to burn.
"Tell me." She whined and pouted in the cutest way, and I knew that cute look would be gone, but I blurted out the truth anyway.
"I guess I just thought...Britt always watched Disney. I thought because you're a mom now, again, I guess I expected something more innocent." I looked at her, and she was mid-eye roll as she sipped her drink and stared at the screen.
"Oh." She tipped her glass and emptied it with ease before reaching for the pitcher and refilling our glasses. "We can watch Frozen if you want? Beth is obsessed. I think I know all the words."
QUINN'S POV
The most valuable lesson that I learned from Sue Sylvester is that people will treat you how you allow them to treat you. I can take what Santana says when it comes to Brittany one of two ways...I can coddle her each time that Brittany comes up, or I can refuse to acknowledge that it doesn't bother me and move past it.
Neither one of those things comes easy.
But I need to try because whether I like it or not, Brittany has a hold over Santana...it's evident just by looking at her state of being, and how her apartment looked when I first got there that had I waited any longer, she'd be too far gone.
It was obvious that I wasn't the only one that was dealing with trauma from Brittany.
The ink wasn't dry on the divorce papers, but there she was, allowing me to be hitting on her as much as I pleased.
And then there was the way that she kept running her bottom lip through her teeth which made it hard to concentrate on the movie that I hadn't been able to see because Beth owned the remote in my apartment.
...HALFWAY THROUGH THE SECOND MARGARITA...
My feelings were hard to contain, but there was tension in the room that helped me keep my hands to myself.
Even though she wasn't there, it was like Brittany was in the room with us that kept us from crossing a line.
Brittany couldn't be the one I thought about when we were finally all alone.
The lights were off, and despite her earlier disapproval, the movie had picked up, and I could see that it piqued her interest.
As much as I wanted to watch the movie now that she was into it, I couldn't stop watching her.
And I couldn't stop the need to erase the tension that I couldn't tell if I was imagining.
...LAST DROP OF THE SECOND MARGARITA...
I don't stop to think as I put my glass down on the table and give in to my baser instincts.
Please, God, make her receptive. I can't take any more talk of Brittany tonight. I silently prayed as I moved closer to her.
I needed to feel her touch, even if it was just our knees touching.
SANTANA'S POV
The tempo of the music score has changed, and I'm feeling a little more into this shitty documentary than I thought I'd be while she sits there fidgeting.
Anyone else wouldn't have noticed the subtle shifts in her body, but I had been trained to know her every move.
Sue had hammered that into me, and even though I was no longer anyone's second, I still was in tune with Quinn's every move.
I drank down the rest of my second drink and focused on the screen, trying like hell to ignore her movements.
All I wanted was to put the awkward shit behind us.
After a few minutes, I stopped noticing her movements. Almost as if she had planned it, she moved closer to me just as I wasn't paying attention and pounced.
I feel the heat rise in my body as her lips attack my neck, each kiss and nibble sending shock waves right to my clit.
When she presses her fingers against my clit through my jeans, I moan low and nip her lip.
"I hate these jeans." She mumbled.
Although I didn't outwardly agree with her because so much of me was still hurting after Britt, the way I moaned said enough.
This time, there was no phone call to distract her from touching me wherever she wanted, so she pressed harder.
My eyes were closed as she climbed fully onto my lap, her legs straddling mine just like earlier, but instead of her hands resting on the back of the couch, they were in my hair as her lips made their way from my neck to my face and finally our mouths collided.
I gripped her hips as gently as I could, but then she growled.
And I remembered then just what kind of drunk Quinn could turn into.
An angry one, but even though there was anger in her movements, the way she was kissing me told a different story.
I could feel the desire pouring off her in waves.
There was a sharp pain as she bit my bottom lip and then sucked it into her mouth, soothing the bite with her tongue.
It was moving way too fast, but I was too chickenshit to admit that to her.
She deserved to take advantage of someone, and I didn't mind being that person.
But I needed to be respectful of her needs, so I moved my hands from her hips down to her thighs.
Even though she was getting wilder, I tried to be on my best behavior for as long as possible.
"Take me to your bedroom." She growled, and I wanted badly to obey, but she'd been drinking, and the last thing I wanted was for her to regret this in the morning.
I pulled back from her kisses and tried to find her eyes in the darkness. The flicker from the television was only enough for me to see the silhouette of her face.
"I don't want to take advantage of you...maybe we should-" I tried to be chivalrous but was cut off by her lips once again attacking me. My earlobe was being treated to her attention, and I was putty as my arms wrapped around her waist. "Q...please, I'm trying to do the right thing." I groaned.
"I promise, you will be the only one being taken advantage of." She whispered in my ear, and I was gushing.
How can I argue with that logic?
QUINN'S POV
She deposited me on the bed and looked at me with questioning eyes. I think she was waiting for me to throw up or pass out, but I was more coherent than either of us expected.
I stood up and immediately got to work, using my height as an advantage...even if it was just by a hair.
I ripped at the jacket that she was still wearing and then made short work of her shirt.
The only time I stopped was when she was standing there topless, and I could see just how bad her eating habits had been.
Our eyes met, and she looked away from me towards her full-length mirror.
I watched her eyes get wide as if she was seeing herself for the first time through someone else's eyes.
She looked at me again, looking at a loss for words.
Her ribs were visible, but I tried to look past that because I didn't want that night to become about the demons that she was fighting because I knew that we'd work on her issues later. Right then, what I was worried about was her sexual needs...and maybe my own.
"You're beautiful." I said when my ogling of her ribs became obvious.
She didn't smile or even acknowledge my compliment...instead, tears were pooling in her eyes.
And I knew then that our night wasn't going to get past that moment.
What a buzzkill.
"We should stop...I just...I'm not fit to give you what you want, Q. I don't think I'm ready."
And unlike Brittany...who didn't understand words like 'stop' or 'no'...I nodded and instead opened my arms for her.
"Can I at least hold you?" I asked.
She looked at the floor, and I thought she'd break down, but she just grabbed her shirt and then stood up, her eyes a little damp and brought the shirt to her chest.
"I'd like that..." She said, sounding like she was about to get weepy, but it seemed she was doing her best to contain it. "Is that okay?"
"It's more than okay."
"Thank you for understanding."
"I'll always try to understand."
"Thanks."
SANTANA'S POV
I'm sure she thought it was because of me being sick-looking that I asked her to stop.
But I knew what I looked like; I'm not blind.
How I looked wasn't really the reason that I stopped things; it was deeper than that.
Things were complicated.
I was fucked up in so many dark and twisty ways. Q didn't need my bullshit.
When I knew there was a chance of us, I swore that I would be the best version of myself for her and Beth.
I'd do anything to be the best person for them, but I wasn't ready.
Not as I was.
Everything about how I wanted things with Quinn was deeper than the surface for me.
I wanted everything.
But I knew that she knew that, which was why she didn't act rejected; instead, she began to strip her clothes off as she made her way to the doorway.
I sat on the edge of my bed, watching her walk away instead of holding me, but then she turned to look at me, her eyes practically glowing as she held her hand out.
Her naked body looked just as fit and tight as the last time I had seen it.
A different version of myself would be bending that body in all the ways that she'd allow, but I wanted more, and I was willing to invest in more than the physical when the time was right.
"Can I hold you in the tub?" She asked, and I felt a pang in my chest. Baths were something special between Brittany and me...but that was over. I wanted...no, I NEEDED to move past her.
So, despite the knot in my chest and every instinct wanting to get all sappy and cry, I finished undressing and then took her hand and let her lead me to the bathroom.
Each step felt monumental as we made our way across the hall to the tub that was the location of my last bath with Brittany.
That last bath with B had been before I knew that she'd hurt Quinn, after that it was showers only. It hurt me to know Britt lost her sweetness after everything we'd struggled through.
If taking a bath with Q could take some of the sting away, I'd welcome it.
Q had no idea how hard this was for me, and I didn't want her to...Brittany had been the wall between us for far too long.
And so, even though it was ripping me wide open, I welcomed the scars that would follow.
QUINN'S POV
It's a bold move to ask her to bathe with me, and while she may not realize that I know more about her and her ex-wife than I let on, I absolutely knew what she was thinking and feeling.
And I didn't fucking care...if I had my way, I would take every sweet memory that she had with Brittany and replace it with one of our own.
Call it selfish, but I think it will heal us both.
My back was resting against the bathtub, and my knees were bent as I waited for her to sit against me.
She was hesitant at first, but after a moment, she settled back against me and let out a low exhale as I kissed that special place behind her ear.
"I'm going to do whatever it takes to save you from yourself...and we will go however fast or slow you want."
She chuckled, her body vibrating against mine as she took in my words.
"I feel like I should be saying that to you...she hurt you too."
I kissed her neck and squeezed her tighter against me. She moaned, and I fought my urge to take that as a welcome sign to keep going.
Holding back was torture, but for her, I would.
"I've been in therapy in Philly and with your mom. Between my two therapists, I'm moving past what happened. It's beginning to feel like an old scar...It still hurts, but I don't think I feel the pain so deeply. I think I'm in a better place than you are. Am I right?"
"Yeah." She nodded and craned her neck, giving me more access to her neck and shoulder, and I didn't disappoint.
"Do you think you can open yourself up to me? Can you let me help?"
My kisses were soft, and nibbles accompanied them because eating her up was never far from my mind.
"I guess so."
"You guess so?"
I tickled her sides, and she growled.
"Yes! Okay!"
I kissed her shoulder, and she moaned.
"So since sex seems to be off the table for now...can we talk about something that's been bothering me?" I asked...well aware that this could go bad.
She went stiff, and I knew that she thought I'd ask her something heavy.
"Do I have a choice?" She groaned when I pulled her tighter against me, not letting her go for a second.
"Not really...but I can let you think you do if that helps?" I asked, being bold and turning her face just enough for my lips to brush hers.
She groaned and squirmed against me, but she didn't pull away.
"Just don't let me go, and I'll tell you whatever you want to know."
"Good, because I'm full of questions."
"I bet you are."
"How about I start with something easy?"
"I didn't know that you knew how to go easy." She teased.
"Oh baby, I can do things you can't even begin to imagine." I flirted, and she shivered.
"Oh, God. Mailman...mailman!"
I slapped playfully at her thigh, and she cackled.
Seeing her come alive with laughter was a far cry from that sad skeleton from the bedroom, and God as my witness, I was going to make sure that no matter what, that laugh never left.
Even though she was skeletal, I still rubbed lotion into her skin and kissed her wherever I wanted.
And when I pulled a shirt over her head, and she had tears tracking down her cheeks, I wiped them away and kissed her lips.
"It's okay to not be okay, Santana. I've been where you are mentally so many times, and no matter what, you met me on whatever level I was on, and you were there for me."
"Not always, I fucking stayed with her. How can you even stand to be in my presence after that."
"I don't have an answer for that, Love, I just know that we ignored the universe, and well, now we won't, will we?"
"Definitely not. I think you and I are cursed to be together."
"Or blessed."
"Yeah or blessed."
"Listen, I know you have heard all the advice from your parents, but I think you need to hear it from me."
"Yeah?"
"Yes. I've been through some shit, I've lost so much, but I don't quit."
"It's inspiring."
"No, it's more just me being stubborn. I am who I am because I can't let other people and their agendas decide how my life ends. I am nobody's bitch."
"Well, sometimes you are." She said, and I nearly cried out with joy at the playfulness in her eyes.
"I even control when I'm someone's bitch. I say all of that because I need you to see that for way too long, you've been letting people control your narrative. Even with college, you didn't choose Louisville. The only thing you've chosen is her, and I'm not even sure if that was you or if she put that in your head."
"Me either. Honestly, there's so much I thought I was doing on my own and looking back, it was definitely not stuff I wanted."
"Exactly. I need a helpmeet, Santana. If you and I are ever going to be something real, I need you at your best. I need you living for you, not anyone else."
"I'm trying."
"I know, but that's not enough. Trying without a goal just means you are scrapping by without a real plan."
"Harsh."
"Your parents are doctors, Santana. You had a perfect average in college in so many ways. You are smarter than me. You could have graduated from Yale in three years by studying half the time I did. Don't let your mind go to waste."
She sucked in a breath, and then the waterworks started.
And I held her.
From that moment until the day I left, I talked her into eating again. I got her smiling when I wasn't looking.
And I got her to go to church with me, delighting in the fact that she seemed more at peace than I had seen her in years.
If I wanted her to be my helpmeet, then I had to be hers; that much was clear.