"Attention, 8th period students of Ms. Holliday's Drama class! Report to the April Rhodes Auditorium for class today."
Ms. Holliday gets Mr. Schuester and Ms. Pillsbury to help judge and grade the performances. Backstage, everyone rushes to dress in their costumes, most of which are from Goodwill or dusty attics, with the exception of Kurt's and Santana's. Kurt insisted on sewing their costumes himself, and Santana made a few alterations to hers afterwards.
"Good luck, guys!" Brittany greets Quinn and Santana, who are doing their makeup. She plants her lips on both their cheeks before either of them can protest.
Santana sighs sadly and watches her leave.
"Que paso chica?" Quinn asks.
"I don't want her to kiss Mike again," Santana mumbles quietly.
"Quit being such an angst-filled teenager," Quinn sighs.
"Excuse me?"
"You're like a powder keg for drama. 'I like her, and she likes me, but we can't be together. I won't date her, but I don't want her to touch anyone else.' Look, Santana, you're making this so much harder than it has to be."
There's a pause before Santana loudly slams her eyeliner onto the table. "Goddamnit, Quinn!" she shouts, finally breaking. "Can't you sympathize with me for once? You're supposed to be my best friend, remember?!" She looks more hurt than Quinn has ever seen her. "This whole fucking situation isn't easy for me, Quinn. This isn't some huge game for me, okay? Every time I see her, it fucking hurts. It hurts, because I can't have her, and don't you dare say otherwise. I just realized that I—" she stutters, seemingly steeling herself before whispering, "that I might be gay. And I wish you would just stop teasing me and treating this like it's nothing. Don't you understand?!"
Quinn feels horrible. How could she not have seen how much this is tearing her best friend apart? "I just want you to be happy, S," she whispers, barely audible.
Santana stands up. "Yeah, well, I do too." With that, she walks away.
"Stop it," Puck, acting as Edward Cullen, commands on stage. The class snickers as they watch "Edward" confess that he is surprised at his self-control, while "Bella" wants to take it further. Rachel and Puck just finished making out on the prop bed.
"This is priceless," Brittany giggles, recording them with her phone. Even though Santana is still upset about her argument with Quinn, she can't help but find the blonde extremely cute.
"I'd better go get ready. My scene's almost up," Quinn simply says before taking off.
Although Santana says a quick bye, she doesn't wish her luck.
"Hey, is something wrong?" Brittany asks, the skit turning into background noise as blue eyes meet brown.
"No. I'm fine." Brittany seems to know she's lying. Slowly, she takes Santana's hand, and, like every previous time their skin touched, a jolt goes through Santana. It makes her heart pound.
"Okay. Just know that I'm here if you want to talk about anything." Brittany looks genuinely concerned, no flirtation or hidden meaning behind her words.
"I know."
Their hands stay clasped as their eyes lock. With those blue eyes boring into hers and seemingly reading her every thought, Santana can feel herself losing control again.
Loud clapping breaks them out of their reverie, and they reluctantly tear their eyes away from each other to see Rachel and Puck bowing. As the teachers give feedback, Santana's hand slips out of Brittany's. The blonde doesn't even try to hide her disappointed frown.
"Quinn's next," Santana states, trying to break the tension.
Everyone watches as Sam and Quinn perform Romeo and Juliet.
"Sam isn't bad," Brittany whispers.
"I guess he's not terrible."
"Romeo" dies, and two seconds later, "Juliet" wakes up, only to stab herself as realistically as possible with a prop knife.
"That's my cue," Brittany groans, standing up. "Rremember San, it's just a scene. Don't get jealous," she grins before heading backstage.
Santana blushes; it's the first time since reestablishing their friendship that they've made any reference to their attraction to each other.
As Quinn returns to her seat, Santana tells her, "Good job." She isn't a total bitch, and she feels oddly proud of her friend's stellar performance.
"I'm sorry, San."
"I know."
They just leave it at that. When Brittany and Mike appear, Santana subconsciously holds her breath. Like yesterday, the same unsettling feelings churn deep inside her gut as she watches them act the scene out. This time, however, Quinn doesn't hold her hand. Instead, Santana's knuckles turn white as she grips the arms of her seat, trying not to run up to the stage and stop the inevitable.
When the two kiss, neither of them looks particularly happy to do so. To the relief of both Santana and Tina, the kiss is over in just a few seconds. The brunette lets out the breath she was holding, but it doesn't make her feel any better. Her feelings are getting worse. Stronger.
She is nearing her breaking point.
Needless to say, picturing Kurt as a bloodthirsty tyrant with an ambitious wife is just as hilarious as picturing Puck as a brooding, lovesick vampire. The only reason everyone isn't laughing is because they're too focused on how hot Santana looks. While 16th century garments are supposed to be modest, Santana's are anything but. Her regal red dress has a neckline cut so low and tight, her boobs are practically spilling out, and the corset wrapped around her waist accentuates her beautiful curves. Not to mention, her usually tied-up hair is down, freeing her long, wavy, raven locks.
People have gotten used to seeing her in her cheerleading uniform, so this is definitely a treat. If her partner were anyone but the only gay guy in class, everyone would probably be too hot and bothered to think coherent thoughts.
Just like Brittany right now. The blonde clutches her armrests in a death grip, in the exact same position Santana had been in, as she watches the brunette perform. All she wants to do is fuck the girl onstage senseless. Just watching Santana and hearing her husky, raspy voice is turning her on. As the scene finishes, no one is paying attention to the lines.
"That was an...ahem, interesting take on a classic story," Emma says.
"Yes, you both acted very well." Will nods uncomfortably.
"That was hot, mamacita! Seriously, you had me sweating in my seat," Holly praises.
Santana smirks knowingly. Oozing sex appeal is too easy for her.
"Holly! Inappropriate!" Will chastises.
"Oh, someone in this room had to say it! Kurt, with a little less hair and a deeper voice, you'd make a pretty good murderous King. Plus, you're the only guy here who wore your tights with confidence." The blonde teacher winks.
"Does that mean we get an A?" he simply asks.
"Alright, guys, that wraps up our presentations! How about a round of applause for our guest judges and your fellow actors?" Lukewarm applause echoes throughout the room. "Oh, and surprise! That was your semester final." Groans and cheers erupt throughout the room. "So if you need to talk to me about extra credit for your subpar performance, come do it now. Other than that, you're all free to go. Have a nice weekend!"
As they all walk out of the auditorium, Mike exclaims, "Ms. Holliday is crazy!"
"Perhaps, but she is an amazing teacher, even though her methods are seemingly unconventional," Rachel replies.
Puck shrugs. "Whatever. I'm just glad that the final is over. I think it's the first time I passed."
"You know, you did surprisingly well," Quinn praises him.
"Yeah, I think yours was my favorite performance. Hilariously entertaining," Santana teases.
"I don't know, San, you looked super hot up there. Your dress really showed off your assets."
Brittany hates the way Puck eyes her as he says that, like she's a piece of meat. It's obvious that he still has some feelings for her, sexual or otherwise, and Brittany doesn't like it. "Well, I really liked Tina and Finn's. I'm a sucker for Dirty Dancing," she pipes up, trying to change the subject.
"Oh, I bet you are," Puck smirks, and Brittany rolls her eyes at him. "But Santana was still hotter." As his gaze returns to the brunette, everyone notices the blonde's whole arm clench, ready to swing.
"Britt!" Quinn warns, grabbing her arm.
"Whatever." She shrugs Quinn off. "I've got more productive things to do than waste my time on you," she spits at Puck. Then, she turns to leave, but not before saying goodbye to a certain brunette. "Bye San," she whispers, placing a gentle kiss on her cheek yet again. This time, Santana doesn't try to stop her, and Brittany lingers a little longer than usual before pulling away.
"Bye," Santana responds dreamily.
The group watches their interaction in silence. "I thought Brittany said you weren't back together?" Mike questions.
Why do people keep bringing that up? Santana tenses under everyone's gaze. "We're not. I'm just tired." Santana's face screws up when she realizes that that doesn't even make sense. "Anyways, I'm gonna...yeah. Bye." Without another word, she goes home to wallow in self-pity.
Now that she's actually in bed, Santana doesn't feel like sleeping. It doesn't matter that she only got three hours of sleep last night. Her mind is racing.
All she can think about is Brittany, who she is convinced is slowly driving her crazy. Memories of when they "dated," how they made out in front of her locker, the kiss on her couch, and the kiss at Quinn's house...Santana can't stop thinking about the feel and taste of the blonde. With a heavy sigh, Santana gets out of bed and pulls on some workout clothes. Exercising usually helps clear her head, and even if it doesn't, maybe she'll pass out from physical exhaustion and finally get some rest. With that happy thought, she takes off at a steady jog.
As she runs, she thinks about her day—how mad she felt when that jock asked Brittany out, how jealous she was when Mike kissed her, and those butterflies whenever the girl came within view. With the blonde constantly on her mind, Santana isn't too surprised to find herself in front of Brittany's house. She can see water spilling down the driveway and hear music blasting from the garage.
Suddenly, she remembers that Brittany mentioned washing her bike today. "Oh fuck," Santana mouths silently to herself at the sight in front of her.
There's Brittany in a skimpy black bikini, completely drenched. Santana barely notices the wet motorcyle in front of her. All she can focus on is the nearly naked blonde who is dancing to some techno song. Santana watches, jaw dropped and eyes hungry with lust, as the wet girl shakes her hips and pops and locks her incredible body. Unlike that time she watched through the choir room door, there are no Gleeks gawking, no one to impress or upstage. It's just Brittany dancing for herself, and it is absolutely captivating and undeniably arousing. As the tall, lithe girl tosses her hair around, her eyes are closed in rapture, which is why she hasn't noticed Santana yet.
Santana's eyes, on the other hand, are roaming all over Brittany's body, not knowing what to focus on. It's all so fucking sexy. Her perfectly toned stomach, her crotch thrusting forward every now and then, her long, endless legs with defined muscles that clench and unclench as she moves, her boobs bouncing up and down with the movement, her ass that just..."Oh," Santana moans softly. The sound is unintentional, completely uncontrollable, as arousal floods her.
Brittany's head snaps up at the sound, eyes widening. "Santana?" she asks in surprise. The Latina is wearing a sports bra and spandex shorts, sweat visibly glistening on her tan skin, with that look on her face. Her mouth is slightly parted, and the look in her eyes is hungrier than the blonde has ever seen. The girl's chest is heaving up and down rapidly as she continues to stare at Brittany with unadulterated want.
In a flash, Santana closes the distance between them and possessively pulls Brittany into her. The blonde doesn't even have time to close her eyes before Santana roughly kisses her. Within seconds, Brittany's bikini bottoms are soaked in an entirely different way. "Fuck," Brittany moans when she comes up for air. "Fuck," she whimpers again when Santana presses her up against her car, and she clutches onto Santana's arm to regain her balance.
Santana doesn't know what's coming over her. She has never acted so out of control. All she knows is that she can't resist anymore. After suppressing her feelings for so long and dealing with Brittany's relentless persistence, she just can't hold back any longer.
She doesn't have any experience with girls, but she knows what her libido is telling her to do. Running her hands up the blonde's stomach, she once again marvels at the girl's amazing abs. Santana's touch causes Brittany to shiver and moan, noises that make the brunette smirk with the knowledge that she's causing such sexy reactions from the sex goddess. Wanting to hear more, Santana kisses down her jaw, then attacks her neck, not caring what bruises or marks she might leave.
"Ohh, oh my god," Brittany moans. She loves the rough treatment Santana is giving her, loves the feel of the girl going all out on her. She gasps when hands move from her stomach to her ass and breast simultaneously, squeezing and pulling. Brittany has touched Santana's boobs, after all; the brunette thinks it's only fair that she return the favor. When she pinches Brittany's pink nipple, the girl lets out a broken cry and bucks her hips forward into Santana.
Neither girl has ever been so turned on. They don't even care that they're practically having sex in Brittany's driveway. Brittany wonders briefly why Santana hasn't pulled away yet, but she certainly isn't complaining. Instead of pulling away, Santana's toned thigh thrusts between the blonde's legs, making rough contact with her clit through her bikini, eliciting her loudest moan yet.
Now that she has friction, she isn't giving it up, and the brunette certainly doesn't have a problem with that. Santana rubs her thigh up and down Brittany's clothed pussy in time to the girl's thrusting hips, and the blonde holds onto Santana for dear life as she dry humps her leg. Concentrating on the immense pleasure she's feeling, she buries her head into Santana's neck.
"Oh fuck," Brittany groans as she feels her orgasm approaching much more quickly than usual. "Fuck, Santana, fuck," she continues to moan. Sensing that the girl is close, Santana holds her tighter and increases the force and speed of her thigh. "Oh shit, San, I'm...fuck!" Brittany screams with ecstasy as the coil inside her finally snaps, giving her one of the most earth-shattering orgasms she has ever had. Her hips buck uncontrollably as her body rides out its release.
Santana can't help but stare as Brittany comes apart in her arms. Brittany's eyes are closed, head thrown back in blissful oblivion, nails digging into Santana as she climaxes screaming her name. It's the most beautiful thing Santana has ever seen.
When she finally comes down, the blonde feels like a puddle of goo. Thankfully, she's able to lean against her car as she slowly slides down to the ground. Santana kneels in front of her, both still holding onto each other. "What...was that?" Brittany breathes.
"I-I don't know," Santana admits, just as astonished as Brittany at her utter loss of control.
Brittany just chuckles tiredly. "Well, whatever it was, it was pretty fucking amazing."
"Yeah." Santana bites her lip and looks into Brittany's eyes. "You look really beautiful when you come," she says shyly, then blushes and groans. "I don't know why I just said that."
The blonde just giggles and kisses her. "That's sweet. Thank you."
Not knowing how to respond, Santana nods.
"Do you want me to do you?"
Santana doesn't know why she's blindsided by the question. She should have predicted that Brittany would ask to return the favor, and it's not like Santana's panties aren't completely soaked and her clit isn't throbbing. "I, um, I-I don't think..." she stutters, trying to find words.
Brittany gently cups her cheek. "Don't worry. If you're not ready, I won't push you."
Thankful for her understanding, Santana nods again.
"So what does this mean now?" Brittany asks hesitantly. She doesn't want to be rejected again; her heart can only take so much.
"It means that I can't stay away from you anymore, Britt. No matter how much my parents might want me to, I can't stop thinking about you. I feel depressed when you're not around, and I hate seeing you with anyone but me."
"Yeah?" Her smile is so big her cheeks hurt.
"Yeah," Santana assures her, smiling back. However, her grin slowly fades. "But my parents will kill me if they find out about us. And they'll kill you. I just...I'm so scared, Brittany," Santana whispers, resting her head on Brittany's shoulder.
The blonde squeezes her tighter. "I know, San. I know how scared you are and how hard this is, which is why I'm willing to wait for you. Now that I know your feelings, I...I'd do anything for you."
Santana looks up at clear blue eyes, finding nothing but honesty and affection shining in them. "I don't want to wait."
"What do you mean?"
"Maybe we can take it slow and keep it a secret?" she suggests hesitantly.
While Brittany doesn't love the idea, it's better than waiting for Santana to be ready. She wants her. Now. "Santana, I suffered a tortorous fake relationship, had my ass kicked, kicked someone's ass, became a jealous ex-girlfriend, and gave up sex for more than a week, all for you. I think a secret relationship isn't too much to ask for."
If Brittany's humor weren't so damn cute, and if she weren't saying yes, Santana would have glared. Instead, the brunette can hardly contain her happiness. "Is that a yes?!"
"Yup. Secret relationship, here we come!"
Santana squeals and presses her mouth eagerly against the blonde's.
Briittany returns the kiss with enthusiasm, then pulls away. "As much as I love this, making out in the middle of my driveway isn't very secretive."
Suddenly, Santana has that seductive look on her face again. "Oh? Then where do you suggest we make out?"
"I can think of a few places that are much more private." Brittany winks before standing up and helping Santana.
"Lead the way, Ms. Pierce." Santana intertwines their hands as they walk to the door.
"With pleasure."
Safely in Brittany's room, the blonde groans as Santana starts kissing her neck again. Sexually frustrated. That's exactly how Santana feels right now. In fact, she's so horny she wouldn't put it past herself to hump a pillow. It makes sense; she hasn't had a good orgasm in weeks, and she's making out with the hottest girl in the world. Yeah, she needs to be fucked.
Too bad she "isn't ready." Sometimes, she really hates herself. Why is she so freaking nervous?
"San? Are you okay?" Brittany pulls away and looks at her face, concerned. She doesn't want to push Santana into anything. "You're not...having second thoughts, are you?"
"No, of course not!" she reassures Brittany.
"Good, because I really like you." Brittany grins.
Trying to put her raging libido aside, Santana smiles back. "I like you too, Britt. A lot."
"Really? Because I want to ask you something," Brittany says nervously.
"Yeah?"
"Will you go on a date with me?"
Huh, Santana wasn't expecting that. "A date?" she repeats.
"Yeah, in secret, of course. It's just that we don't really know anything about each other."
"What? We know tons of stuff about each other!"
"Mhmm, like what?" Brittany challenges.
"Like you have a brother named Tommy, your parents are divorced, Quinn's your best friend, and your dad used to hit you."
"And?"
"And..." Santana racks her brain for an answer. "You like to pout overdramatically to get your way, but when you don't even know you're pouting is when you make people feel the most guilty. When you're confused, your eyebrows scrunch in the most adorable way. Oh, and you always stand on my right side when you hold my hand or put your arm around me."
"I do?" Brittany wonders.
"See! There's the adorable confused look."
Brittany jokingly shoves her as they both laugh. "Shut up, San! Seriously though, you know all that stuff, but what about normal stuff? Like what's my favorite color?"
"Um...black?"
"Nope."
"So are you going to tell me?" Santana asks curiously.
"If you want to know so badly, go on a date with me."
The Latina grins before giving Brittany a chaste kiss, just because she can. "It's not like I was going to say no," she says slyly.
"Yay yay yay!" The blonde launches herself onto the smaller girl, then starts kissing all over her face.
"Britt!" Santana giggles. "Get off! Oh god, I can't breathe!"
Brittany kisses her one more time before cuddling up to her side.
"I can't believe we're doing this," Santana sighs into the crook of her neck.
"I know. Brittany and Santana cuddling on a couch and being all mushy? Never."
"Not just that. This whole dating thing. I've never felt like this before, B. For anyone."
"Me too. You're not just another notch on my bedpost."
"Good to know," Santana chuckles softly.
"Quinn's going to go ballistic when we tell her."
"Right. About Quinn...could we not tell her? Just for a little while," she quickly adds.
Brittany's eyes widen. "You don't want to tell her?"
"Well, I'm kind of mad at her at the moment, even though I know I'm overreacting. Plus, think of it this way! If we can keep our relationship a secret from her, we can keep it from anyone. Besides, it's not like we'll keep it from her forever. We'll tell her eventually," Santana promises, cuddling into Brittany even more.
"Okay," she sighs, "but only because you're so damn cute."
They grin at each other, basking in each other's touch and company.
"So we're really doing this?" Santana asks.
"Yup, just me and you."
They both quite like the sound of that.
