Title: Eras of Us [Part One]
Rating: PG-13
Word Count: 8k
Summary: Brittany Goddamn Pierce: the girl who built you up, ruined you, loved you and did many, many other things and it's hard to remember all the pain and hurt that's occurred between you when your eyes meet in an instant, because you could swim in those oceans for days and once upon a time ago, she was okay with that.
Notes: Writing this was playing on my mind for months, and I rewatched the 100th episode a million times and found so many gaps I wanted to fill in, so I thought screw it... I've had crazy writers block, so it's an apology as well :) Hope you enjoy!
/
It's been three months, one week and four days since you saw her last, and you've been practising for this moment in your head for way too long.
You don't know why you're so nervous, or rather you do but you'd prefer to pretend like you don't as you're downright terrified to face the consequences of those reasons because you don't get nervous around anyone. Not even Dani anymore and even at the beginning of that relationship, it was more like hot panic and not nervous in the way Brittany always made you feel.
Anyway, that speaks volumes and like you said, you'd rather not go there and you've rehearsed this, so you just put your energy into holding your head high as you sit in the back of the choir room and ignore all the memories associated with this place.
You never lied… This is where you grew up and this is where the era of you and Brittany began. This is where you fell in love with her and realised who you could be, and regardless of how many times you've been here, it still hits the same as it did that day you two broke up, even if you specifically chose to sit a couple chairs down from the scene of that particular crime.
However, the whole holding your head high idea flies straight out the window the second you see Sam walking into the room, mostly because he's not the only blonde entering and the breath is ripped from your lungs when you see her, a couple steps behind him.
Because it's Brittany.
Brittany Goddamn Pierce: the girl who built you up, ruined you, loved you and did many, many other things and it's hard to remember all the pain and hurt that's occurred between you when your eyes meet in an instant, because you could swim in those oceans for days and once upon a time ago, she was okay with that.
Anyway, you take in a deep, shaky breath, breaking the eye contact and switching your attention to Quinn sitting down at the front as she peers back to scan the room. It's been a little weird with her since you hooked up, and you know Brittany knows because Tina has a big mouth, but you didn't get to hear about her reaction or how she found out.
Which, in some ways, is probably a good thing, even if there's this burning urge in your chest to hear it anyway but that would be a bad idea, and coming back here is to celebrate the last few days of Glee club. That's the reason you told your damn girlfriend and you promised you'd stick to it.
But anyway, back to Quinn.
You two are on friendly terms, as yeah, you had sex, but it really wasn't what you expected – probably as Quinn's straight, as it turns out – and you've text a few times but you're not half as close as you used to be. Especially because every time you do speak, she goes on about her apple crazed stiff of a boyfriend, amusingly called Biff and she's desperately trying to be someone she's not.
A façade you've seen way too many times to be entertained by it anymore.
Still, Quinn smiles, you do a half awkward wave and before you can decide on whether or not to give her a verbal greeting – or maybe spit some venom at Berry as she keeps fucking looking at you from the front where Sam, Tina and Artie are now stroking her annoying Jewish ego – all those sour thoughts disappear as you register a shadow towering over you, gaining your attention and yup, you have no idea what you were going to do.
"Hey," Brittany greets, her voice soft like summer rain.
Fuck, you hate how much of an effect she still has on you.
You don't let that show though. "Oh, hey," you say like you weren't staring at the door for a solid four minutes prior to her walking in.
As always though, she can see straight through you and blue eyes twinkle, a fair eyebrow arching as she sucks her lips into her mouth and follows your previous line of sight to Quinn, managing a smile that doesn't spread across her face. She holds it, Quinn goes red which almost makes you laugh but then Brittany's gazing back down at you and you don't know what to say to her.
There are a few three worded sentences that are spinning around your mind and none of those should come out because you have a girlfriend called Dani. A serious girlfriend and Brittany is your ex and you weren't together when you and Quinn hooked up, as that was made abundantly clear by her the previous week in the stupid auditorium, so it shouldn't matter how she feels about it.
She was dating Sam too, so she can't exactly say anything.
"Can I sit?" Is the next thing you hear, and you whip your neck around to see her gesturing to the empty seat to your left, a genuine concern in her expression, but you've never been able to say no and so you nod, keeping silent and she carefully takes her seat.
Then it gets awkward.
Not awkward in a way that makes you want to leave, but in a way you're super aware because she's been in your proximity for exactly thirty seconds and you're yet to touch her.
One of the first things Brittany ever did was touch you. Back when Sue put you on the Cheerios together and you first met, she stumbled into her Cheerio audition and grabbed your arm to stop herself from chinning the ground, and you swear to God the heavens opened up and angels started singing when you tried to tell her to back off, but instead whimpered as she stared into your soul for the first time.
Something you didn't know you'd get used to, and lose, but that's neither here nor there.
As those thoughts go through your mind though, you watch Mercedes and Rachel side eying each other from the front – rolling your eyes because really? How many enemies does Bird Beak Berry have? – before almost shoving each other to the floor for the front row seat, and Mr Schue is speaking which occupies all attention.
You just take a deep breath and ignore the twitch in your neck to look at Brittany sat next to you.
This is going to be A-okay.
/
Despite fully expecting Mr Schue to ruin your day with another horrible rendition of some rap song the Glee club didn't violate, you find yourself in a fairly good mood thanks to April Rhodes showing up.
You sing, and dance, holding up empty plastic champagne flutes and the tension eases off. You make small talk with everyone, but shyly smile at Brittany in the moments where your eyes meet from across the room, and you actually begin enjoying yourself.
It's nice being back around here, even if it's to say goodbye to the choir room and all the occupants who once used this place to hide away from normal high school bullshit – or conjure it up, as Glee was always full of drama – and when April tells everyone to meet her down at the local bar, Mr Schue urges her out with a disapproving frown. You laugh, but then you're pulled into a conversation with Artie and Puck, who actually looks good in a military suit, and you start catching up.
One by one, everyone stops by you, but when you come to the last two people, you freeze. Both of them are blondes, and you have history with them in similar ways – and very different ways, too – but you know that's old news now and steel yourself. This was bound to happen, so you make sure not to break a sweat when you find Quinn hovering behind you, smiling awkwardly.
"Hey," she greets and since you left the morning after Mr Shue's failed wedding, there hasn't been much talk apart from a couple texts.
Not monthly catch ups to bitch about Berry via email, like you were doing back when you were in the city, and you can't pretend like it's not awkward. Now you know what Quinn freaking Fabray looks like when she comes, and how she tastes, and that's kind of surreal as it's every lesbians dream to hook up with hot once best friends, but not for you.
Especially as the second you open your mouth to reply, you feel a pair of eyes burning into your temple and glance around to find Brittany, stood with Mike and Tina, over by the piano. Her back is straight, her lips are sucked into her mouth and she's talking to them, but all of her attention is on you, and you'd have to be super dumb to stay ignorant as to why. She's watching you and Quinn because she knows, and this is the first time seeing you two together since it happened.
"Hey," you get out and shift your vision back to the blonde in front of you. "How have you been?"
"Good," Quinn shoots back and wrings her hands in front of her, eyes shifting around over your shoulder. "A little less good since finding out everyone knows about us."
You stifle a laugh and raise an eyebrow at her. You weren't the one to spill the tea. "Oh, come on," you drone. "Let's be real, it was never going to stay a secret for long. Everyone knows everything in this place," you point out as that's always been the theme in here, no matter the information. "Who was brave enough to say something to you then?"
Quinn rolls her eyes but smiles and you feel lighter about the situation. She's not being that weird about it, probably as you did discuss it in the few awkward minutes it took you to get dressed after sobering up, and right now? That's what you need.
"Puck, obviously," she answers and of course the most perverted creature in this room asked about your hook up. He's more than likely storing that for spank fodder. "Sam brought it up, but Britt was around, so…"
The silence that follows makes your skin spike, and you feel the innate urge to push for more information as you really want to know how Brittany felt about it, but you also don't. So far, you're on good terms as you've said hello to her, sat next to her, shared some eye contact during April's performance and many times after, and for now, that's easy. That's something you can deal with as she's at an arms distance and you know she knows about Dani, but you're also yet to hear about her opinion on that either so there's two reasons not to fall into a friendship once again.
It just seems too… Dangerous.
"Yeah, I don't really know how she feels about that," you admit, and Quinn's face turns serious, but also confused. "We haven't exactly talked about it."
"What?"
"Doesn't seem necessary," you shrug and ignore the urge to circle your foot on the ground, as it'd be a clear sign that what you're discussing is making you uncomfortable and you can still feel blue eyes burning into your temple. "It's not her business and Dani was obviously cool with it… Not like I'd met her or anything yet," you throw in another shrug as that's the truth.
Hearing your ex-girlfriends opinion about you hooking up with the third person in a once trio, who also used to be her best friend, would be unknown territory and not one you'd like to venture into.
You don't think you could handle it.
"Yah, okay," Quinn scoffs and folds her arms over her chest, eyes shifting to focus on something over your shoulder and due to the intense burning in your temple, you know she's looking right at Brittany, but something flashes behind hazel eyes, and she frowns, which catches your attention. To the point where you have to follow her line of sight, just in time to see Brittany sweep out of the choir room, Sam right behind her and your stomach sinks.
Great. Maybe they're rekindling, and you hate that even though that's none of your business so you can't feel any type of way about it. Just like Brittany can't about you and Quinn, or you and Dani, or you and anything or anyone after her. She was the one to end things once and for all over three months ago now.
"Well, I suggest we go and talk to everyone before they start talking about us, her, and our history," Quinn breathes and your eyes flash back to her to see a small smile. "Maybe deal with the fire before it gets out of control," she adds on through a whisper, but now you're the one confused as you have no idea what she means and you can't help but open your mouth to ask, but then she's sliding away and Artie's grinning at her and you're just left there alone, stirring over her words.
What fire?
/
Ten minutes.
It takes a whole ten minutes of pretending like you care about anyone else in the room before you excuse yourself, saying you need to pee. Quinn eyes you as she heads out into the hallway, giving you a stern nod – for what reason, you're unsure – and announcing her billionaire boyfriend has arrived, but you narrow in on your senses, trying to find familiarity as you spent years in these four walls, trying to find Brittany when she lost her map so you should still have that skill.
Luckily you do, as the first faculty member you come across grins at you, staring at the space that used to be occupied in this place, and mentions how she just saw your missing partner in crime. You leave with a polite smile, as finding Brittany is way more important than verbal gratitude, and shift between the nearby classrooms, your chest releasing when you see a closed door and something inside of you knows she's in that one.
Something that's proven to be correct, as you reach for the handle and let yourself in, eying the board she's leaning against, with white chalk lines in bizarre algebraic. What the hell is she doing?
"Hey, I've been looking for you everywhere," you greet, swinging the door shut. "What are you doing?"
Brittany doesn't turn to look at you, so you patiently wait, ignoring the urge to know if she could sense you were coming, like you sensed she was in this specific classroom. She looks all up in her head, with her brow pinched, features stern and she looks the total opposite of how she did when she breezed into the choir room earlier. Now, she looks stressed, and you can see the whites of her knuckles from where her fist is balled, propping herself up on the board.
"I'm trying to prove the Riemann hypothesis."
You have no idea what that means, and she tries to explain it by telling you about how MIT thinks she's got one of the most gifted minds in a generation. Not that you think they're wrong as she's a genius – you've told her so many times you can't even count that high – but she just looks so unhappy talking about it. There's no smile on her face, no glint in her eye or glow on her skin. She's just setting herself down in the chair nearby, twisting from side to side and huffing every time she finishes a sentence.
You hate seeing her like this. She's almost unrecognisable and you wonder how you didn't see that in the choir room before.
Maybe she was too busy being nervous about seeing you again to show it, like you were with her.
Although when she mentions having her old life back, you can't pretend like your heart doesn't damn near leap out your chest. Her eyes meet yours, holding them for a beat too long as the words leave her mouth and she follows it up with a ridiculous story involving talking to her cat, but you know that's just one of her distraction tactics. People mistake her intelligence for stupidity, but you see through it.
You always have.
Now isn't the time to think about that though, and you get that hot panicky sweat at the back of your neck when she just waits for you to answer, dropping her gaze to the floor. It feels like it used to, back when feelings were hidden and the most public you got was linking pinky fingers in the hallways, or following Quinn around before she went all cray-cray, but it's not like that as you two went your separate ways and it was for the greater good.
All the reasons you split still stand, and it doesn't matter as you've moved on anyway with Dani, your girlfriend, so you think of the only thing that springs to mind and that leaves your mouth.
"Well, what do you say you and I reunite a little threesome?" You smirk, but you really didn't mean how it sounded, especially as Brittany stills, eyes flashing to you as she not only knows who the third is – Quinn – but also as there's a huge elephant in the room and you're directly referring to it, so you quickly finish the offer in the way you intended. "Called The Unholy Trinity?"
Brittany's face breaks into a tight lipped smile, her eyebrows raising, and you swear you see a flash of relief before she's pushing up off the chair to her feet and gently swatting out at your thigh, with you hopping off the table to join her shortly after.
Maybe it won't be so bad.
/
It's when you're stood in the locker room, pulling down the bottom of your Cheerio top and adjusting it around your hips, that it happens.
You're not expecting it, but you suppose seeing Brittany in this specific room, in that specific uniform, five years after sharing a life changing moment right here when you were just two kids, that it would happen, but it still shocks you.
"This place brings back some memories, huh?"
You jolt at the sound of her voice, whipping your head to the right to see Brittany walk in and lean against the lockers, arms folding slowly over her chest as she looks at you. Her long blonde hair is down and straight, and your eyes drag the length of her body as the long definitely not forgotten memory that she's talking about comes back to life.
This is where you were when you saw her after you spent the night together for the first time, and all she did then when you got caught staring was bashfully smile at you whilst drinking at her water bottle like she knew exactly what you were thinking as she was thinking about it, too. It was an intense moment, one that previously you've smiled about but now it's hard to think about it as life is so different, and it must show as the small smile drops from your face, your vision finally returning to bright blue.
"Yeah, it does," you still breathe, acknowledging that you know exactly what she means, and she too stops smiling. Her head tilts against the locker, and you get lost for a long minute, neither of you speaking out loud, but screaming silently but you're the first one to look away. You didn't come back here to do this. "Are you nervous for our big number?"
Brittany sighs, louder than intended you think as she goes red immediately after, and picks her head back up, returning to her feet properly but still guarded, proven by the crossed arms. "Not for the number, no," she replies and it's cryptic, so you narrow your eyes, but she smiles sadly. "We're not really the Unholy Trinity anymore, are we?"
Despite the question being about you, Quinn and her as a trio, you know it's not. You know she's finally bringing up something that both of you have dodged discussing, and it's the perfect opportunity as there's no-one around, but you'd really rather not go into this as you have this heavy feeling inside of you, like it would lead to something else. Something that your girlfriend back in New York definitely wouldn't approve of, and something you don't even know is on the table but…
It just feels like there's unfinished business.
But on the off chance that this is it, that discussing Quinn and you hooking up with her is that unfinished business which avoiding discussing could lead to palpable tension, you choose to talk the conversation head on. It was bound to happen, and you can't be around her with tension as it's already bad enough, and you don't want to be focusing on that.
You're strong, but not strong enough to fight that battle all over again.
(Getting over her the first time almost killed you.)
So maybe this will work. Maybe clearing the air will divert the tension and you'll get through these next few days with no trouble.
Trouble that almost happened when you asked Quinn to do this number. The only reason she agreed to do it was because you used some good old blackmail involving her and Biff, and ignored the obvious signs that she was nervous as she kind of owes you as you weren't the one to tell everyone about the hook up – which spread like wildfire, thanks to Tina being the confidant – but none of you can feel negativity as it'll overall effect the impact of this reunion.
Or at least, that's what you're trying to convince yourself. That's way easier to deal with than acknowledging it's just giving into the urge to know how Brittany feels about everything.
"Not really," you finally answer, swallowing loudly. "Are we gonna talk about it?"
Brittany stills, eyes locking in on you and you can tell she wasn't expecting you to be so bold, but you've changed. "Talk about what?"
Your head tilts, disappointment sinking in because it feels like the roles have reversed. A few years ago, you were the one who would try to avoid talking about the uncomfortable things, like how she was the centre of your universe and made you happy to exist just by existing herself, but you shouldn't have been because it lead you to be who you are today. It led you to be a proud Latina lesbian who doesn't care what anybody thinks, or at least most people, and you don't want her to become vulnerable and guarded like you were.
She's way too good for that, and she went to MIT and followed her dreams so that she could live her life and see what the world has to offer and that's why you let her go, so you refuse to see backpedalling.
"About what happened with Quinn at Mr Schue's wedding," you state, and you're shocked at the lack of wavering in your voice as you know how big this moment is.
Sleeping with anyone else and talking about it was never going to be easy after what you two went through – Sam wasn't fun – but the fact it's someone that both of you grew up with, stood by, and trusted… It just hits different.
It makes it so much more intense because way back when, you know that Brittany had concerns about Quinn as physically, she was your type. Her and Brittany shared a lot of traits, physically and personally, even though they were incredibly different in countless ways, and you let yourself down by going back on all the promises you made about never being able to see Quinn like that.
Something you think Brittany's remembering, if the way she's looking at you with her lips sucked in is anything to go by and it stirs uncomfortably deep inside.
"No, because it's not necessary," Brittany replies, and it catches you completely off guard because you took the first step, and history goes to prove that she would take off from there, but she isn't. Instead she's breathing in deeply, lifting her head high and losing the shine in blue eyes as they turn hard. "You two hooked up," she shrugs and swallows thickly. "I was dating Sam at the time, and you're allowed to do who and what you want."
That's your argument, but it sounds a lot like she's rehearsed it in her head a thousand times before and you can't help but notice. But you don't want to make it obvious that you're aware it's not as simple as that, and so you just look away, giving her a moment to collect herself as you slam the locker with all your shit inside shut and head over to the floor length mirror, red headband in your hand.
"I am, but you know it's different with Quinn," you reply and stare at your reflection, knowing how you can make her understand as you adjust your hair, readying the accessory. "Like it was with you and Sam," you point out and resist the urge to flinch when she gasps.
Again, she wasn't expecting you to be so cavalier, but you remember the conversation on the stage, right before you left for New York. You remember her telling you that she was happy with Sam, that you should chase your dreams and was honest with you and that's what you're doing here. You're paying her back for what she gave you, for what she made you do and realise, and it feels different but it's not.
Or at least, it shouldn't be, but she's now following you and coming to a stop at the wall right next to the mirror, taking up a leaning position against it and gazing at your profile and it's making you forget how to put the headband on.
She's always been super distracting.
"Yeah, and I can't pretend like I wasn't mad when I found out but I had no right to be, so I stopped," she says with certainty, eyes creating a path of heat as they trace over your features. "And I know how you must have felt about Sam now, so."
Something releases in your chest, a long breath joining it, but the former is way more emotional. It feels like Brittany's finally said something real, instead of talking about the weather or the other mundane crap shared in the minimal texts sent between you over the past couple months and it's good to hear, but she's way too close for you to check it's honest.
Which is shown when you drop your arms, after managing to tie your hair back with the headband and your elbow collides with her forearm, but that just makes her other hand snap out to steady you when you stumble away. It's just a simple touch, but it sets your skin on fire, it sends your blood shooting around your body ten times faster, and you gasp as you find your footing quickly, straightening up but then she's like, right there, in your personal space, so much freaking closer than you have been in months and time just stops.
Blue eyes bore into yours, stealing every part of your mind, body and soul and it feels like the first time. She's just staring at you, unflinching like she's not shocked you share such a strong connection still, but you guess you were being naïve. Having been away from her, out of contact with her for such a long time has made you forget the little things, like the thirty-two freckles dusting her nose, and the freckle by her lip, and how she makes you feel alive just by freaking touching you.
But you know you need to stop.
You're mentally going down a path you shouldn't be and so you clear your throat, take your arm back and brush your hands down the front of your Cheerio uniform.
Right, the performance. That's a safe thing to talk about.
"Yup," you chirp and pretend not to notice the squint of her eyes as they dart down to your feet moving backward. "I can't believe we didn't rehearse for this," you follow as it's been a matter of hours since you even came up with the idea of the performance, but you three should be okay.
Last Thanksgiving, you did an impromptu rendition of Come See About Me with zero preparation and that went great.
"Yeah, but I feel like I'm gonna let you guys down," Brittany sighs, pushing away from the wall and standing in front of the mirror you were just at, adjusting her hair over her shoulder and staring at her reflection from head to toe. "The last time I danced properly, I was wearing this," she adds on with a barely there smile flashed at you. "It's…" She huffs out the word. "It's been a while."
"You'll be amazing," you reassure because it's automatic and it could be years of no dance practise and she'd still wipe the floor with anyone who tried to compete against her. The way she moves is incredible and always has been.
"Probably not."
There's zero confidence and much doubt in her tone, and it's so un-Brittany that you don't know what to say. This isn't her, and you know it's only been a few hours since you've been around her but she's just so different. There are so many things that are still the same, like the way she looks at you, but everything else is different and as much as she was your everything, she was your best friend because of that and that part of you is deeply concerned.
So you let that lead you, and step up behind her, making sure she notices by peering around her body at her reflection and set your hands on to her biceps, squeezing gently. It's breaking the touch barrier, but you're behind her and you don't think she's going to turn around – your grip tightens as the idea passes through your mind – so it's safe and you used to do this as best friends anyway.
(You also did a lot of other things that best friends didn't do, but you're trying not to think about that.)
(It's not working.)
"I believe in you, Britt," you tell her, holding her eyes as seriously as you can. Oh, and continue ignoring how your palms feel like they're on fire and how the words coming out your mouth are an echo of a not forgotten memory, back when she was campaigning for class president and you had just started dating. You told her she was the unicorn. "Come on… I'll be right there with you."
For the first time since you stepped in here, she smiles properly, just like they did back then. Her eyes sparkle, her pearly whites showing as she begins grinning and she looks over you for a long moment before bobbing her head and you take that as a sign to step away.
Just in time, too, as she spins around and observes the distance you've just put between you, but doesn't comment and instead holds up a pinky finger.
You take it with a smile.
/
The number goes as smoothly as the last one did, but when you're feeling the warmth of everyone's applause, you glance across to Brittany and see her blowing her cheeks out, hands set on her hips.
She wasn't lying about being out of practise. That performance along seems to have taken a lot out of her and you're not even needing a minute to catch your breath, but that just makes you hurt inside as you think about all the times you'd find her dancing alone in her bedroom just because, and that's clearly not something she does anymore.
Dancing used to make her happy, so that can only mean she lost that happiness a while back, and you don't listen to April as she staggers up to the staging area, pulling all attention until someone begins throwing jibes at Quinn's stiff of a boyfriend who was on his phone the entire time as you watch her.
You don't even join in, even though you usually would as you're ogle worthy when you're performing and he's already pissing you off with his stuck up attitude, because all you can see is Brittany scuffing her bottom of her sneaker against the linoleum and looking so damn down.
It's so crappy to see as she's always been infectiously positive – a quality you fell deeply in love with – and you look at Quinn as she inevitably and pathetically stands up for her piss poor excuse of a boyfriend, but your mind is elsewhere. Elsewhere being with Brittany, trying to figure out how you can make her believe in herself as you thought you did a good job, but apparently not.
And maybe that was because of Quinn, which makes you shut your eyes and kick yourself for because Brittany basically told you that you three weren't the same, and that could be to blame for her lack of enthusiasm. Maybe she saw it coming, even though you don't remember a single flaw in any of her moves, and when everyone finally shuts up, you pull her to the side and tell her again how good she was.
Something she immediately argues against, giving you fractions and ridiculous explanations before she walks off, talking about Fondue for Two and you try to follow but Artie rolls up to you, blocking your path and asks if you want to join him, Puck and Mike for dinner tonight.
But you can't get the image of her looking so disappointed in herself out of your head as you watch her disappear.
You're gonna need to do something about that.
/
When you find Quinn and her boyfriend at Breadstix, you try to think of a way to leave immediately but Puck grabs your arm and steers you towards the booth and you roll your eyes at him, before seeing a silent plea in his and realise he wants you there for him.
Even if you two now have the same notch in your bedpost in common, and share a similar past, it doesn't make you friends, but you guess you could do with finding out about another one of Quinn's ridiculous choice of boyfriends, especially after hearing about the old money he comes from on the ride over.
(You're a lesbian, but you're down with having a sugar daddy and you might find an opening for an offer.)
Anyway, Quinn's jaw instantly drops when Biff asks you all to describe her, and you can't help but smirk and leap at the chance to continue when Mike starts revealing the apparently unknown past. There's a few home truths thrown in, with Artie and Puck sniggering when you reveal the purple piano incident after Mike mentioned the Ryan Seacrest tattoo, but none of which are that damaging – you could do a lot worse – and as expected, Quinn uses her powers of manipulation to get Biff to leave the table.
She gives a bullshit explanation and reveals her ultimate plan – to sit comfortably on someone else's coattails for the rest of her life – and it's so obvious you roll your eyes, wondering how the hell she covers up the tattoo when he's taking her from behind. Puck looks downtrodden, and you kind of feel for the guy as he's doing better with himself after Finn decided to up and die – bastard – but Quinn still isn't seeing it.
Which should come as a surprise, but there's something different about Puck now and you think if Quinn chose to remove her head out of her own asshole for more than one second, she might see that they've been a long time coming and in some ways, would be perfect together. They're total opposites, like ying and yang, salt and pepper, black and white… But they still complement each other.
Something that's familiar, and makes you call over the waiter as ordering dinner is a priority and thinking about the eery similarities is not a safe zone.
/
Puck offers to drive you home, which is weird because the last time that happened, you gave him a blowjob as thanks and that's definitely not going to happen again, but you could save on the cab fare, so you shrug and accept, heading over to his truck and clambering inside. It's the same one he had when he was cleaning pools, but it's actually tidy inside and you're visibly shocked when you don't have to remove week old food from the footwell and seat to get in.
"God, you have changed, haven't you?" You comment as he slides into the driver's side, flicking on the ignition. "It's not that gross in here anymore."
"I'm a gentleman now," he grins back, throwing his arm the back of your seat as he reverses out of the parking spot. "Wish I could say you've changed," he continues and returns his grip back to the steering wheel as he peels through familiar streets. "Heard you're still pissing Berry off endlessly by crashing her gigs and shit," he laughs, and you do too.
But there's more to the story, and you would explain but you're not back here to talk about your other life. A lot of those parts still stand – most prominently, the girlfriend part – and you know that you two shared stories of girls last time you saw each other, so you decide to lead the conversation there.
"Well, I have. Yeah, I'm the understudy for Bilbo Baggins but I also have a girlfriend who happens to be insanely attractive," you retort, smug as you know how hot Dani is and it's a real relationship.
Not that what you and Brittany wasn't real, but this is like a grown up relationship where you don't see each other at school all the time and crap. Hell, since being kicked out the band – something you're still sore about – you haven't seen that much of Dani at all, but you did before you left, and so you know your relationship is in safe hands. Even if some things don't feel right, but there's always doubts this early on in a relationship.
(There weren't any with Brittany.)
(You were always sure about her.)
(But you were just two kids in love.)
"I heard about her from Quinn," he bobs his head, his body language changing as he rests his elbow on the arm rest and side eyes you. That's a little confusing that Quinn would tell Puck but whatever. "Still must be weird seeing Britt after hooking up with my ex and her ex best friend, even if you've bagged yourself a hottie."
There's a hardness in his words, a bitterness too and you hadn't considered talking to him about hooking up with Quinn. Mostly because time and time again, they've started just to end abruptly but you believe they're meant to be in some fucked up way as you have to hope. Sometimes people grow apart, just to come together stronger in the future and so you feel bad as you suck your lips into your mouth, breeching into the unknown with zero preparation.
"Yeah, about that," you chuckle through the words, but the awkwardness is very obvious. Especially when you shift and begin playing with your purse set on your lap. "Maybe I should explain–"
"I'm not surprised she tried pussy, but I always thought it'd be Berry's," he interrupts, smirking like he's imagining it, and you wrinkle your nose, swatting at his bicep.
He's not wrong – everyone always thought Faberry would eventually happen in one way or another as they're so gay it's unreal – but with the way you currently feel about the troll, you're instantly disgusted and want to switch the conversation to anything else. But then you process his words, thinking about how even the dumbest douchebag on this planet would consider that it'd be difficult for you to see Brittany, and that pulls all attention and before you can stop it, the question leaves your mouth.
"Wait, what do you mean?"
Puck eyes you for a long second. "I thought you had a gaydar for these things–"
"Not about them," you click your tongue, realising he thinks you're talking about Quinn and Rachel still. "About Britt," you explain but he looks at you again, staring blankly. "Why would it be weird seeing her?"
He laughs, but more at you this time and you press your lips together into a tight line, head cocking to the side with attitude and he stops. "You two have history," he shrugs like it's obvious but it's not. "And we all heard about how you reacted when you found out she was hooking up with Sam," he explains, and you really don't want to remember that. The whole Elaine girlfriend stunt thing seemed like a good idea at the time, and you were left with humiliation after you walked away without the girl and with total exposure. "Should've picked someone who didn't fess up the second Brittany cornered her, though."
Your eyes narrow, your mind picking up on a piece of the story that you haven't heard. All you know is that Brittany paid Elaine off with scratchers tickets and a t-shirt to reveal the motives behind coming with you to do that Tina Turner number, or that's what she told you and so you never thought to question it. When she tells you something, you just instantly believe it and now you feel dumb for a whole other reason as you've obviously been left out of the loop somewhere.
"What? Who did Brittany corner?"
Puck looks at you with disbelief, and he laughs again but when you give him the same look you've done twice in sixty seconds, this time he doesn't stop. "Don't play dumb, Lopez," he tries but you're not, just too embarrassed to admit that you don't know what he's talking about you. "Tina told Mike who told Sam who told me that Brittany hid in one of the stalls until your 'girlfriend' –" he finger quotes with one hand. "–Was in there alone and then got all up in her grill until she spilled the tea," he explains with a lopsided smile, shifting his eyes between the streets but all you can do is stare.
Is that what actually happened? No wonder Elaine was super weird with you on the train back to Kentucky.
"You actually didn't know?"
You didn't reply to him, so you're not surprised he's noticing the silence as that's one of your rarest states and instead of confirming verbally, you look out the passenger window, trying to figure out if this new information is significant. Probably not, and it was months ago and that was before you two were on that stage, and you were making the life changing decision to pack up your shit and invade Porcelain and Hellmouth's living space, so regardless, that doesn't change anything.
(Even if something in your chest tightens as had you known she was so bothered that she exhibited aggression towards a stranger, you might have handled things differently.)
(But it doesn't matter or change anything.)
(You have to remember that.)
"Whatever," you wave him off as he pulls up outside your parents' house, putting the truck into park and twisting in his seat to look at you. "Thanks for the ride."
"No problem," he replies but as you pull the handle on the door, there's a hand grabbing at your other arm, and you peer back over your shoulder to find him purposefully stopping you, his brow furrowed and face stern. "You think Quinn's really into that douchebag?" He whispers, and you're relieved he didn't continue talking about Brittany, or that you didn't know about the whole Elaine thing, but you push that feeling aside to respond.
"Nah, because some things don't change about you, Puckerman," you offer a light hearted smile and an arched brow. "And that's the part that Quinn will always be soft for."
He smiles affectionately at you, but it's such a weird moment – you two never did feelings or friendship, even when you were dating – that you both register it at the same moment and clear your throats, getting all flustered as he turns the engine back on and you continue getting out the car.
But just as he's about to pull away, and when you reach the top of the path leading to your parents house, he calls your name again and like you did before, you glance back at him winding down the window as that's the second time he's stopped you and if he had something to say, he really should've done it all at once.
"You should take your own advice."
You narrow your eyes, awaiting a further explanation but he just smirks and peels off, the headlights of his car disappearing in night.
/