SantittanyBrittanaFanFic

11^th Grade

Santana pulled up at the car park of the dirt bike track before she had even realised where she was going – straight to Brittany. After her brief encounter with Puck, Brittany was the only one she felt like talking to right now.

As she cut the engine, she felt the evening breeze whip past her open convertible – picking up into strong gusts every few minutes – for the first time since she had left school. She guessed that the storm must have drifted towards Lima Heights not long after she’d left Puck in the lot (as it had been sunny then) but couldn’t remember the sky darkening over the half hour drive to the track.

Now, a thick grey blanket of clouds, churning viciously overhead, covered the earth. Only a few gaps allowed rays of sunlight to stream through and partially illuminate her surroundings.

Santana hastily closed off her convertible from the forces of Mother Nature before she settled back in her seat. As she adjusted into a comfortable position, Santana stared vacantly, straight ahead at all the four wheel drives and trailers parked randomly throughout the lot, waiting to see dirt-clad figures emerge from the tracks which lay just out of her sight. She didn’t want to think or feel until Brittany was here beside her. For some reason, Puck had shaken her so badly, that only her sub-conscious could be totally certain of what was upsetting her right now.

She occupied her mind by watching the clouds’ vicious battle overhead, each so dark that they could explode into a shower at any moment, until she noticed Mr. Pierce’s pick-up slowly trundle into the lot. Santana immediately sat up a little straighter, aware that Brittany’s practice must be almost over as Mr. Pierce was always perfectly on time to pick her up.

He parked at the front of the lot, squeezing in between an old, red Chevrolet and a small silver Ute. His door swung open and he emerged in jeans and an old grey t-shirt, his eyes clouded by a pair of dark shades despite the minimal rays of sunshine breaking through the sky.

Santana followed his gaze in the direction of the edge of the lot. A second later, dozens of bikes came whizzing up the hill from the track and dispersed throughout the car park. Santana instantly recognised Brittany’s tall slender frame as she weaved between cars and people to reach her father’s pick-up. The blonde stopped just beside Mr. Pierce’s truck and removed her helmet. Her long blonde hair fell out of its tight tangle, swirling around her face.

Together, Brittany and her father began to load her bike before Brittany looked up and noticed Santana’s car, waiting patiently across the lot. Santana breathed a sigh of relief – glad that she didn’t have to brave mother nature’s storm to catch Brittany’s attention. Instead, she stayed inside her toasty-warm car while Brittany waved goodbye to her father and ran over – or rather half-skipped and half-bounced – to the convertible.

As the leggy blonde approached, Santana noticed that her once white and navy blue riding outfit now resembled a brownish colour; sprayed with all sorts of mud and gunk. Her eyes practically popped out of her skull in panic. She threw her seatbelt off and reached over for the doorhandle but before she could get out of her car and stop her, Brittany climbed into the passenger seat – causing Santana to whimper as she saw mud mark her beautiful leather interior.

“What are you doing here?” Brittany asked, her eyes alight with curiosity.

Forgetting all about the mud as she stared into the eyes of her best friend, Santana sighed. “I was with Puck.”

“Oh, did he finally talk to you? What has been bugging him? Did he say?” Brittany bombarded.

“Nope,” replied Santana. “He just said that he deserves an apology because I walked out that night and that was about it.” She sighed. “We got in a fight and I threw him out of my car.”

“He deserves it! How dare he ask for an apology when he’s the one who’s been acting like a dick for the past few weeks. You didn’t do anything wrong!” Brittany ranted. “See that’s what I love about Artie. He’s nothing like any other jerk I’ve ever been with – he’s actually nice.”

Oh yeah, thought Santana. Artie.

After the drama at Puck’s the night of the near threesome, Brittany and Artie made up and had become “official”, meaning that the two girls had spent a lot less time together. Luckily, Brittany still believed that it wasn’t possible to cheat on her boyfriend with a girl; so Santana still made the most of the time that they were able to hang out while she had been going through this weirdness with Puck. However, she couldn’t help but feel incredibly jealous every time Brittany chose to go over to Artie’s instead of her own house.

Willing to do anything to avoid another hour of Brittany’s incessant droning about how amazing her new boyfriend was, Santana decided to change the subject – though she would have liked to talk about Puck for a little longer.

“You’re getting mud all over my car, Britt,” Santana pointed out.

“Oh, sorry,” Brittany replied. “I forgot about the mud.” She immediately began to pull her long-sleeved top and thick, waterproof pants off, revealing just a pair of lace blue panties and a grey sports bra, (she claimed she got too hot to wear another layer underneath) which somehow thrust her breasts up, creating substantial cleavage, rather than strapping them down.

“You’ve already made a mess now, you don’t have to take your clothes off,” Santana laughed, but Brittany was already fully undressed, with her clothes in a tangled heap at her feet. Then, Santana noticed the tiny brown marks that still covered Brittany’s arms, neck, chest and face, plus the multiple clumps entangled in her hair. “You still have mud everywhere.”

“Really? Where?” Brittany asked.

“Here.”

Santana leant over and pulled a few clumps out of Brittany’s tangled blonde hair. Brittany sat completely still, watching Santana with her wide blue eyes as the Latina gently pulled away the muck. Santana half-smiled as she noticed Brittany’s intent gaze and restrained a chuckle.

“What?” Brittany asked innocently.

“You literally have mud everywhere,” laughed Santana. She reached across and held Brittany still by grasping the blonde’s bicep as her other hand gently grazed Brittany’s forehead. The dirt crumbled away under her touch. She then cupped Brittany’s chin in her hand, twisting the blonde’s face so she could easily examine the extend of the remaining damage.

A small streak of mud stretched from the blonde’s petite nose to her cheekbone, which Santana softly swiped away with just her index finder. She smiled as she realised there were still many marks covering Brittany’s body. She took Brittany’s face in her hands.

“Why are you so messy!” Santana exclaimed, meeting Brittany’s gaze with big, bright eyes.

The way Brittany instantly cheered her up never ceased to amaze her.

Brittany shrugged, smiling beneath Santana’s grasp.

Santana immediately lost her train of thought as Brittany’s smile stretched into a broad grin. All of a sudden, as Santana took in Brittany’s body (so literally covered in filth), she was overcome by the strong desire to do dirty things to the blonde. Unable to restrain herself, Santana edged closer to Brittany’s face, which was still locked tightly in her own grasp.

Brittany didn’t seem to realise what was happening until Santana gently pressed her lips against Brittany’s. However, the blonde’s warm lips moved against Santana’s easily anyway, completely familiar with each other’s natural rhythms.

Reluctantly, Santana broke away from the tender kiss and quickly (so as to avoid the prying eyes of the last few cars in the lot) jumped into the backseat and pulled Brittany in after her. She pushed Brittany into a horizontal position, letting the blonde’s hair fan out across the seat. Her long legs were push up (as she was far too tall to fit into the backseat length-ways) allowing Santana to slip between the small gap between the blonde’s thighs and position her own thighs behind Brittany’s arse. Santana ran her hands up and down Brittany’s thighs, fingertips grazing gently against the blonde’s skin.

She desperately wanted to savour the moment – which scared her a little (but she quickly told herself that it was just because she really missed her best friend now that Brittany and Artie were spending so much time together). But, below her, she could feel Brittany was tense and the blonde’s eyes watching Santana intently – obviously confused as to why there was a sudden delay when Santana had so suggestively pulled Brittany into the back seat.

Santana bent over, intertwining her fingers in Brittany’s blonde locks. She hunched over, trapping a small bubble of warm air between their bodies and slowly drew her face back to Brittany’s. This time, Brittany was ready. She launched herself upward, wrapping one arm around Santana’s neck to pull the brunette towards her, while the other supported her at the elbow as she planted a passionate kiss on Santana’s waiting lips.

Santana could feel Brittany’s tongue exploring every crevice of her mouth and intertwining with her own. Santana guessed that no amount of experience with any guy could have prepared her for the amazing, tender and precise technique that Brittany possessed in the bedroom. Every kiss and every touch hit her like they were newly invented, keeping Santana constantly on toes.

This kiss was no exception.

After a few moments, Santana felt her head beginning to swim. She realised that she hadn’t inhaled air in a number of minutes – a frequently occurring consequence of these intense and consuming kisses. She broke away to gasp in a lungful of air while Brittany nuzzled her head deep into Santana’s neck.

She attempted to catch her breath, which had become fast and raspy. Closing her eyes seemed to help – as she was not as tempted without seeing Brittany’s half naked body in front of her. However, she could still feel Brittany’s slow, nervous breathing shooting down her neck, tingling the entire surface of her skin. She could smell Brittany’s Flowerbomb perfume that Santana had bought her last Christmas. She could feel Brittany’s heart fluttering through her own chest as the two girls now lay horizontally across Santana’s back seat, with Brittany’s legs spread wide to accommodate for Santana’s body.

Santana’s eyes popped open as Brittany suddenly grasped Santana by her arms and rolled her over so that the Latina was now sprawled along the base of the backseat with the blonde hovering just an inch or so above her. Santana swallowed a thick mouthful of saliva, keeping her eyes on Brittany’s face as the blonde tentively reached for Santana’s body, still fully clothed in her cheerios uniform.

In the small space between their bodies, Brittany’s gentle hand grazed down Santana’s front, from her sternum to the line of her pelvic bones. It was such a light touch that Santana should barely feel it, but her skin erupted in the same line that Brittany’s fingers had traced.

When Brittany’s hand reached Santana’s skirt, the blonde nuzzled her head back into the comfortable nook along Santana’s neck to allow herself to concentrate. The space between their bodies lessened so that only the small concave between their hips where Brittany had tilted her hips away from Santana (so that her bum stuck up in the air, just within Santana’s line of sight) would allow for more than a sheet of paper to fit between them.

It seemed like Brittany’s hand danced around the top of Santana’s skirt for a long time but she was sure that it was probably only a few minutes in reality. She tried to keep her eyes open as Brittany gently traced her fingers from one pelvic bone to the other, always gentle along Santana’s sensitive skin, but the torturous pleasure made that too difficult.

With her eyes tightly shut, she eventually felt Brittany brush the skirt up, causing her heart to flutter. Brittany then slowly ran her open palmed hand over Santana’s mound – restrained beneath her cheerio’s bottoms sewn to the skirt. When Brittany’s fingertips brushed past Santana’s clit, the Latina had to bit her lip to stop herself from moaning.

Then Brittany’s fingers found the small wet patch that had seeped through Santana’s underwear and the red bottoms. Even with her eyes closed, Santana could tell that the touch of Santana’s soaked bottoms would cause Brittany’ face to stretch into a broad grin. She almost opened her eyes to check, but in the same instant, Brittany’s index finger began to rub against the wet patch, finding Santana’s slit.

Santana had to squeeze her eyes more tightly shut to help her concentrate on keeping calm.

Then Brittany’s fingers began to play with the edges of bottoms and underwear, slowly pulling them off her mound so that her other hand could slip underneath and play with Santana’s clit. It was just a small manoever, that shouldn’t get even the horniest girl riled up, but already Santana was panting.

Suddenly, Brittany was straddling her around her thighs but Santana couldn’t remember her leaving the nook of her neck. She was aware that Brittany was sitting upright in front of her – shirtless – but she didn’t have the courage to open her eyes just yet.

She heard Brittany unzip her skirt, and all of a sudden, it seemed that her skirt was yanked off her – quickly followed by her underwear. She couldn’t remember her shoes coming off, but they must of because she was able to curl her toes into the leather as she felt Brittany’s hands spread Santana’s thighs further apart so that the blonde could kneel between them.

Gone were the days when she used to feel self-conscious when Brittany had a full view of her naked body. Now, Santana was much more occupied with willing the moment that Brittany would stick her face in her own crotch to hurry up.

Brittany never left Santana waiting for too long. She wasn’t sure if that was because she got sick of teasing or because Brittany loved to make Santana moan as much as Santana loved to do the same for Brittany so much that she couldn’t put it off for very long.

Outside, a colossal downpour rained on the lot. Santana knew that the continuous pelts of thick, heavy raindrops must have been making an ungodly racket but it sounded like a mere whisper with her focus so entirely on what her friend was doing between her legs.

She could feel Brittany’s breathing filter over her body as the blonde nestled into the space between Santana’s legs. Brittany’s fingers ran up and down Santana’s slit, edging it open with each movement. Santana could tell that Brittany’s fingers were probably already soaked at this point as they slid into her easily.

Brittany circled her interior with just one finger before she added another. Without even having to search, she pressed her fingers immediately against Santana’s g-spot and felt the Latina flinch at the pleasure of the touch. Santana imagined Brittany smiling wickedly as she found the spot with no trouble at all, as Brittany was fully aware of how much Santana loved her g-spot.

Immediately, Santana felt her g-spot tighten and swell as Brittany’ rhythmic thrusts aroused her. When she was almost sure that she couldn’t take anymore without exploding, she felt the blonde lower herself closer to Santana’s centre.

Santana couldn’t restrain the gasp that exploded out of her as she felt the slippery wet surface of Brittany’s tongue tip touch her clit. The cries of pleasure only erupted out of her more frequently as Brittany flicked her tongue rapidly against her engorged clit head, until she was gasping so frequently that they sounded like howls of pain.

Brittany showed no mercy, keeping up the same intensity until Santana felt a rush of intense pleasure as a dilute, clearish fluid shot out of her – no more than a cup full – saturating her leather seats and (she assumed) Brittany’s face. Santana groaned, feeling her pulse quicken further as the accompanying orgasm threatened to explode out of her.

As always, Santana began to shift around, uncontrollably squirming as her orgasm edged closer. Brittany did her best to hold her hips still, but with brutal force that Santana wasn’t even aware that she was using, she managed to wiggle away from Brittany’s grip. Brittany didn’t falter – completely used to chasing Santana as she moved around, using making a complete circle of the bed before she came. Her tongue barely left Santana’s clit for a second and her fingers never slipped out of their rhythmic motions against the g-spot.

Suddenly, Santana’s body shuddered into a scream as climax hit her like a ton of bricks. Her eyes popped open. Brittany relaxed immediately, letting Santana ride out the orgasm before she was left in a panting mess. Her eyes were wide and her body was damp.

“Oh. My. God.” Santana’s voice was barely a hoarse whisper as she wiped beads of sweat off her forehead and clutched her own arm. “Britt that was amazing.”

Finally, Santana turned her head to see Brittany sitting cross-legged between her own open legs, smiling happily over at her best friend. Sometimes Santana cursed the day that a late-night visitor at Santana’s first cheer camp had raided Brittany’s tent – she wished that Brittany could have just stayed innocent in every way, forever. It was how she was meant to be. Other times – she wished that it had been herself that had taken Brittany’s innocence (if that was possible?).

Santana slowly sat up and crawled towards Brittany. “You’re turn,” she whispered – still out of breath and weak limbed.

Brittany smiled but then shook her head. “It’s almost dinner time. My parents will be wondering where I am.”

Santana frowned. “I guess I better drive you home then.”

Brittany nodded and then checked Santana’s dash clock. “Yeah, well it has been an hour.”

“Already?” Santana gasped, hardly believing how quickly the time had flown. She was about to crawl back into the front seat when she remembered that there was a wet patch somewhere beneath her right now. “Ahhh, my leather seats,” she muttered.

Brittany laughed. “It will wipe off.” She looked around for some sort of napkin or cloth, but found only Santana’s underwear. “So that’s the tenth time in a row I’ve got you to squirt now San,” she added as she soaked up most of the fluid with Santana’s grey panties.

“Really? Well, maybe you should throw a party,” Santana replied, trying to put on sarcasm but being with Brittany didn’t make her feel very sarcastic.

Brittany attempted to hand Santana her underwear back.

“They are saturated Britt,” Santana laughed. “I don’t want them now.”

“Fine,” said Brittany as she wound down the window and chucked them out the window.

Rain spattered inside, mostly getting Brittany and the top of the door before Brittany quickly wound the windows back up.

“Britt!”

“What? You said you didn’t want them!” Brittany snapped back. “It’s not like anyone is going to know they’re yours. The lot is empty.”

Santana pursed her lips as she pulled her cheerio’s skirt back on – without underwear. “If I threw out every pair of knickers that had gotten wet because of you, I’d have none left.”

Brittany laughed, watching Santana shaky hands attempt to do up her skirt zip.

“I think I’d better drive,” Brittany noted. “You’re still a mess.”

“Because you made me that way,” Santana replied darkly. She frowned at her friend. “I can’t let you drive Britt. It’s an expensive car. What if you crash again?” Santana made out like she was concerned for her car, but in reality, she remembered too clearly the day that Brittany had been taken to the emergency room after a head on car collision over the summer. Though both Brittany and the other driver had been lucky to walk away with only minor broken bones and a few scratches, Santana had still been worried out of her mind.

“I won’t crash,” Brittany replied.

Santana didn’t argue it further. To be honest, she knew she was in no condition to drive and when Brittany was adamant about something, she usually didn’t just let it go. Santana just nodded to show that she trusted Brittany and climbed back into the passenger seat while Brittany got behind the wheel.

Santana curled up her feet to avoid Brittany’s dirty clothes still on the floor, trying not to think about the dirt that was probably beneath her. She rested her head back and slumped down in her seat as Brittany pulled out of the lot and headed back towards town. It would be natural to feel exhausted, but usually after being with Brittany, Santana would be on a high rather than a low.

She blamed it on Puck. He was making her life feel like a fiasco.

For a while, only the rhythmic sounds of the rain and windscreen wipers broke the silence.

“You still look sad,” Brittany observed accurately as her eyes flickered over to Santana.

“I don’t know exactly why. I guess, I just feel really messed up inside right now because of this whole Puck thing,” Santana explained, finding herself in the mood to talk all of a sudden. “I mean, these past few weeks where Puck and I haven’t really been talking have been so awkward for both of us – but today when I busted you girls having a meeting about Karofsky without me and Quinn pulled me up on the whole ‘getting naked with Puckerman’ thing…” Santana paused, shaking her head at herself. “It made me realise that no one else has even the faintest idea that there is something wrong with us now. I mean, I’ve been acting like there’s nothing wrong to them, but surely if we actually were a couple in everyone’s eyes, they would have picked up on the distance.”

Santana looked up finally, and caught Brittany’s dazed, confused expression as she tried to process what Santana said but also concentrate on the road. “Do you understand what I mean?”

Brittany pursed her lips. “Not really.”

“What I’m trying to say is, were Puck and me every special? Were we even something? Or were we just nothing to begin with?”

Brittany thought it over for a few minutes. “Well, you are both such special people but I don’t know if you really loved him San,” she said finally.

Santana swallowed a thick mouthful of saliva. She hated to admit that she’d expected Brittany’s answer to be something like that – Brittany knew her better than anybody else.

“Fuck,” Santana groaned, holding her face in her hands. “Now what do I do? I can’t let me and Puck fizzle out without some sort of a backup plan.”

“What you need is a back-up man,” Brittany suggested.

“But who?” Santana prodded.

Silence hung like a thick blanket of fog as the two girls lost themselves in thought, considering all the possibilities. Santana liked the idea of going after Sam – he was starting to create quite a name for himself – but he was far too Quinn-obsessed for Santana to be successful.

“What about Finn?” Brittany asked.

Santana raised an eyebrow. Finn. That was an interesting idea. Popular and reasonably cute.

“You’ve already taken his virginity, he belongs to you now,” Brittany explained.

“Too bad the Hobbit has such a tight grasp on him,” Santana mumbled.

Brittany shrugged. “If I was Finn, I’d want to be with you. Besides, Finn is totally obsessed with being cool and he’d be cooler with you than with Rachael.”

“Did anyone ever tell you that you’re a genius Brittany?” Santana gasped as she processed the brilliance of Brittany’s idea. She leant over and impulsively planted a kiss on Brittany’s cheek, causing her stomach to erupt into butterflies.

Brittany batted her away, but smiled as she remained focused on the road.

Santana quickly cleared her throat. “So I’ll just get Finn to confess that we did it last year, maybe this weekend at the Husdon-Hummel wedding. Rachael will dump him and then he’ll be free to see me.”

“Sounds like the perfect plan,” Brittany agreed, beaming over at her best friend.

                                                                                                       11^th Grade

As the final bell echoed throughout the school, Santana hurriedly grabbed her things and headed for the parking lot. It was a Tuesday afternoon so there was no Glee Club rehearsal or Cheerio’s practice. In fact, it was Santana’s only night off during the week.

With Brittany at motocross practice, Santana usually spent the afternoon at Puck’s but since the threesome incident at his house, the two of them had barely said two words to each other.

There was this weird vibe between them recently. Santana couldn’t explain it. She had always felt entirely comfortable with Puck and their semblance of a relationship had always been easy – but something had changed. Initially, she had thought Puck was mad because of the way she’d just got up and left before anything really happened that night, but she knew what Puck’s mad face looked like, and this just wasn’t it. It was something else entirely.

With her mind still intently focused on her latest boy-troubles, Santana had cleared half of the near empty lot before she finally looked up. Her eyes immediately fell upon her shiny red convertible standing out against the lumps of junk that remained.

To her surprise, the tall, poor-postured figure of Noah Puckerman was slumped against the passenger side door, arms folded against his burly chest and dark eyes squinting into the late afternoon sunshine. At first, she thought she was imagining him, as her mind had been flicking back to him all day, but as she approached, he flashed her a pearly white smile.

“Hey,” he greeted.  

“Oh, so you’re talking to me now?” Santana snapped.

“Hey, you’re the one that hasn’t been talking to me,” Puck shot back.

“What?” Santana shrieked. “That’s because every time I tried, you’d make it really weird. Why should I be the one to make the first move anyway?”

“Because I think I deserve an apology for the way you left the other night,” said Puck stiffly.

Santana raised an eyebrow. Not only was he referring to the night of the threesome as if it had only just happened, when in fact, it had been weeks ago, he was making out that he hadn’t been blatantly ignoring her ever since. “You think that you deserve an apology?” Santana repeated coldly. “Fuck you Noah.”

Santana stormed around to the other side of her car – thrusting her school bag in the direction of the backseat – and slid into the front seat. She avoided Puck’s watchful gaze. Clumsily, Santana shoved the keys in the ignition and was just about to speed off when Puck bounced into the open convertible, landing squarely on the seat beside her. He dropped his bag on the floor at his feet and turned to face Santana, a wicked grin stretched from ear to ear.

“Get out Puck,” Santana ordered, gripping the steering wheel tightly and determinedly staring straight ahead. She couldn’t stand another minute of him, acting all high and mighty. He was the one fucking things up, so he should be the one to put his ego aside and admit that the past few weeks of awkwardness were his entire fault.

“Look,” began Puck as Santana seethed beside him. “Don’t get mad at me Santana. You’re mad at yourself and you’re just taking it out on me.”

Santana raised an eyebrow as she turned to face him. “Why would I be mad at myself?”

Puck shrugged. “You tell me.” He smiled slyly.

Santana gave him a look of profound confusion. Puck could tell that her fuse was wearing thinner and thinner as he continued to prod her like this. Santana was easily frustrated by conversation that wasn’t clear and concise in meaning.

“Get the fuck out of my car,” said Santana icily – she had had enough of him for one day.

“No.”

The next thing Puck knew, he was pressed up against the door as Santana launched herself across the car and began pounding her fists and feet into any part of his body they could reach while she screamed, “Get out, get out, get out!”

“Okay, okay!” Puck shouted; the sound of his voice muffled against his arm, which he was using to protect himself from blows to the head. He quickly grasped the door handle with his free hand and threw it open.

Puck leapt out of the car and slammed the door closed behind him. Santana tore out of the lot before he’d even heard the click of the door locking back into place. His bag, tossed unceremoniously out of the car, just before Santana disappeared around the corner.

His whole body throbbed, particularly at his torso. He looked down into his open shirt, noticing that big welts had emerged where she’d ripped his skin open with her nails and small dark bruises were slowly forming where her fists and feet had collided with his body. Tasting blood in his mouth, Puck tentively touched his lip, feeling a long cut stretching across the inside layer. It was probably the result of her first and only punch to the face which had struck somewhere around his bottom lip and cut it open with his own teeth.

“Fucking psycho,” he muttered to himself as he jogged over to grab his things.

Puck shook his head and made his way over to his own heap of a car. 

“Puck!” Someone shouted behind him. “Did I just see you get beaten up by your girl?”

“She’s not my girl,” Puck yelled back over his shoulder as he let himself into his car and pulled away.

He gripped the steering wheel tightly as he drove home, his mind occupied by Santana. Since the whole threesome fiasco, his mind was on her more often than not – but not in the way it used to be. He had seen her in a new light, which was probably the cause of the “weirdness” Santana said she was feeling around him.

There had been a moment in his bedroom that night that he couldn’t get out of his mind. A moment where he had watched as Brittany and Santana’s eyes had met and he had seen a whole other side of Santana that he had never experienced in bed with her before. He saw someone who was compassionate and gentle rather than uncontrollable and feisty.

At first, he had thought that it was purely because the two girls were thick as thieves – everyone knew that – but then he had remembered how familiar the two girls had been with each other, not only as they ripped each other’s clothes off but before any of that, when they were just laying with each other.

It made him consider the possibility that it wasn’t Santana and Brittany’s first time in bed together at all; it was only the first time either of them had shared that moment with someone else.

Initially, the thought of Brittany and Santana getting down and dirty together was a total turn on but then, he had realised that whatever it was that the two of them had, it was definitely not the same as what he shared with Santana. Where their relationship was casual and light, the two girls’ was obviously much more meaningful and deep.

As soon as he had made that connection, he could not be satisfied by their relationship anymore – not when he knew that it meant absolutely nothing to Santana compared with Brittany. Puck couldn’t stand the thought of not being Santana’s (or any girl’s, for that matter) number one priority (even if they weren’t his). He lived to be adored, not to be the one who cared more in the relationship – and it was clear to him that he was obviously the one who cared more in his relationship with Santana.

However, as he recalled the fleeting conversation he had just shared with Santana, he considered the possibility that maybe the Latina genuinely didn’t have any idea what he was talking about. When he had hinted at the fact that Santana had been mad at herself for letting Puck into a very private, personal moment between her and Brittany, it had seemed like Santana had no clue what he was referring too. It didn’t seem like she was just trying to deny it – she seemed legitimately unaware that the moment had meant anything to her.

Was it possible that Santana not only had feelings for her best friend but also didn’t actually know that she did? Maybe that was why she could still routinely sleep with Puck – because she didn’t recognise the feelings that Puck had caught a glimpse of during their threesome.

Fuck trying to have “the talk” with Santana again to figure out what all of this was and what it all meant to both of them – he might not be left with eyesight after round two with the Latina. He figured he could just let things naturally ride out and meet their end. Santana was smart, she’d work out that it was time to move on sooner rather than later – and perhaps deal with her obvious but blatantly ignored feelings for Brittany.

                                                                                                  11^th Grade

Santana had to admit, she was a little surprised when Puck did not call her the second he was released from Juvie. She assumed that he would have been about to explode like a shaken up can of soda with all the time that had passed since they’d last slept together. After all, when she and Brittany had been fighting just after Puck had left, she had been just about prepared to throw herself on anyone that she had almost dragged the Lopez’s forty-year-old mailman into her bedroom for an early morning fuck before school.

Santana needed regular physical contact, like flowers needed the sunlight to grow. As easily as she could have had any other guy at William McKinley, she hadn’t wanted to screw things up with Puck by sleeping with one of his friends or one of his enemies. Out of all the guys she had slept with, she enjoyed sleeping with Puck the most. He liked mixing things up which stopped Santana getting bored.

So she had endeavoured to get Brittany back at her side so she could take out her sexual frustrations on her best friend – the only other person other than Puck that didn’t bore her. It took her a while, especially with the introduction of Stubbles McCripplepants on his chair on wheels taking up all of Brittany’s attention. Luckily, Santana knew exactly what to do to get him out of the picture – tell him that the only reason she was with him was for his voice to help her win the free dinner at BreadstiX, which was for the most part, true. The stupid sucker broke up with her a few hours later.

By the time the Rocky Horror Show rolled around, the two girls were back to being as close as ever and after a few rehearsals, they were even back in bed with each other most nights. When she thought about what could have happened if she hadn’t won Brittany back from Artie, she shuddered. Which made her wonder, how was Puck doing it? He was about as sex-crazy as she was. There was no way he could be lasting this long on the outside without some sort of physical contact with a girl. Was he getting a little something from some slut on the side? She couldn’t be sure.

Santana decided to throw herself into that week’s Glee Club project to pry her mind away from the suspicious paranoia. She liked the idea of rocking out to a song typically sung by boys. It was something fun and different – plus the outfits the girls had planned out were going to look so super smoking, she was sure that even the Hobbit would resemble sex on a stick.

So rather than turning up whenever she could be bothered, Santana and Brittany were perfectly on time for their meeting to sort out their costumes. The girls got organised quickly, dividing up the tasks between them so they would be most productive and set to work. There were a few minutes of intense, focused silence before Mercedes spoke up.

“The boys beat us the last time we competed against them, we’ve got to bring the noise hard this time.”

There was a communal nod of agreement.

“To be fair, they didn’t officially beat us. We got busted for Vitamin D possession before the vote,” Quinn pointed out.

“Wait,” Santana piped up, feeling the silence and then respectable conversation a little too odd. “Something is definitely wrong. Why isn’t Rachael talking?”

“Yeah, she should totally be bossing us around right now,” agreed Brittany beside her as the blonde struggled with the numerous pieces of long string they were using on their costumes.

“The idea of the assignment was to do the opposite of what we normally do,” responded Rachael pompously. “I’m just trying to stick to the lesson plan, which is proving nearly impossible, since you’re gluing the sequins on backwards.”

Santana slowly turned around, shooting Rachael a dangerous look. Her urge to punch the Hobbit straight in the face transpired to her fists clenching around the tube of glue in her hands, which was almost empty and luckily didn’t make a mess over her costume. Santana was just about to stand up and give Rachael a piece of her mind when she saw the other girl’s eyes widen in a mix of surprise and rage.

Rachael quickly pointed at the door and shrieked, “Spies!”

Santana whipped her head around just in time to see Puckerman enter the choir room, wheeling Artie. She raised an eyebrow curiously, wondering what on Earth the two of them were doing together when Puck scoffed off Rachael’s remark.

“Lighten up!” He snapped at her. “We’re here to talk to Santana and Brittany.”

Santana’s face broke into a broad smile. Finally, she thought as Puck leaned down and whispered something into Artie’s ear. She adjusted her position in her chair and gazed up at Puck with a superior smile on her face. She looked Puck up and down, taking in his obviously more toned body.

“Hmm, so?” Santana prompted. “How does it feel to be a free man?”

“All I can say is that I don’t want a long term relationship with either of you,” Artie blurted out, his arms folded. “Especially Brittany, since I’m not in love with her,” he added quickly.

Santana exchanged a glance with Brittany as Artie finished his speil, which had rudely interrupted her conversation with Puck. Brittany’s eyes quickly darted back to Artie, alight with excitement while Santana let her eyes hold on Brittany’s face as the blonde spoke.

“You guys want to go out to dinner tonight?” Brittany asked.

Santana turned to back to Puck, her eyes expectant.

“Not really,” he said.

“Oh.” Santana’s eyes dropped away from Puck as a wave of panic swept over her. If he really didn’t want to see her tonight, did that mean he was already seeing somebody else? Her mind whirred at all the possibilities.

“Tell you what,” Puck continued. “You two show up at BreadstiX tomorrow night around seven. If we don’t find even hotter chicks to date tonight, we might show up.”

Santana gazed up into Puck’s eyes, relief washing over her. “You are totally cool,” said Santana, feeling incredibly aroused by Puck’s attitude.

“Awesome,” Brittany enthused.

The two girls exchanged a look of triumph as Puck wheeled Artie away.

                                                   *

“Are you ready to go?” Santana called out to Brittany as she applied another coat of mascara to her lashes before throwing her make-up back into her travel kit. She bent over the sink near the toilets and examined herself closely in the mirror, checking that her mascara hadn’t left any marks.

It was about an hour after Cheerio’s practice had finished. The rest of the squad had long since departed but Santana and Brittany, not wanting to make themselves late for their date, had chosen to stay behind and share a quick shower and freshen up their make-up in the girls’ locker room before heading to BreadstiX, as both of their houses were in the opposite direction to the restaurant. Santana, who usually took forever to get ready, had been so rushed with adrenaline at the thought of finally sleeping with Puck again that she seemed to be taking half the time to go through her usual routine, polishing up a half hour before they were supposed to meet the boys.

“Not yet,” Brittany’s voice called back from the other side of the locker room, near the showers.

Santana poked her head around the corner to see Brittany standing in the middle of the room with her Cheerio’s top on backwards and her skirt on inside out. Santana chuckled as she strode over to her friend.

“Here,” she said as she quickly pulled off Brittany’s uniform, leaving her standing in front of her with just a pair spanky red panties and sparkly black bra on.

Santana dressed Brittany like she would a child, letting Brittany lean on her shoulder as Santana instructed her to step into her skirt one foot at a time and then pulled it up around her waist and zipped it up.

“Arms up,” Santana commanded and Brittany swung her arms over her head.

Santana had to stand on a bench to pull Brittany’s top over her head as she was much shorter than the leggy blonde, but soon she had Brittany’s clothes smoothed over her skin perfectly. “There you go,” she said quietly, pulling away a loose strand from Brittany’s hem.

“Thanks Santana,” replied Brittany. “I don’t know what I would do without you.”

Santana shrugged it off. “Next time, get changed in front of a mirror like you do at home, okay?”

Brittany nodded.

Santana pulled Brittany to the mirror and opened up both her’s and Brittany’s travel kits. After quickly applying Brittany’s foundation, Santana used her new liquid eyeliner and mascara to frame Britt’s big blue eyes so that they’d both look perfect for this date.

“Ready?” Santana asked again.

“Yes,” said Brittany, clapping her hands excitedly as she took in Santana’s handy work.

The two girls grabbed their stuff and headed out to Santana’s convertible. It was the only car left in the lot at quarter to seven on a Friday night so they ran across the car park, giggling and squealing as if they were actually scared. Santana tore off out of the car park in the same split second that Brittany slammed her door shut, causing the blonde to fall into her lap as they sped towards BreadstiX.

Santana laughed. “Hey, if this date goes badly, your face might end up there,” she joked.

Brittany laughed as she straightened herself up. “Hopefully it will be an awesome double date though.”

Santana nodded enthusiastically. “It has seriously been so long since Puck gave me a good dicking, that I am pretty much ready to do it in an alley.”

The two girls burst into laughter, because they both knew that Santana was only partially joking. They were only able to subdue their giggles when they pulled into the BreadstiX car park and quickly made their way inside the big double doors.

“Can I help you?” Asked an older waitress with short greying hair.

“Yeah, uh, table for four?” Santana asked.

“This way,” said the waitress, leading the way to a booth directly across from the door.

Santana slid into one side while Brittany sat on one of the two chairs on the opposite side and the two girls grabbed a drink while they waited for Puck and Artie to show up. As could be expected, they arrived almost twenty minutes later. Puck noticed them at the door, gave a small head nod in their direction and wheeled Artie over.

Santana stood up and greeted him with a hug before following him back into the booth. Artie pulled up next to Brittany and gave her a quick, nervous smile, which she returned brightly. The four shared relaxed conversation over dinner about school work, Glee Club and football after which Santana, eager to hear Puck’s voice, asked him to talk about Juvie.

Puck seemed only too happy to oblige, launching into this elaborate story about a guy who had tried to steal his waffle. The others hung on his every word, enthralled by his sheer bad-arse-ness. Santana let her hand run up and down Puck’s thigh, completely aroused by his bravery, and talk of flexing his rock hard pecks.

“You should be our nation’s president,” she gushed, unable to control the intense desire she had to crawl on top of him right there.

Puck shrugged, trying to look laidback but Santana could tell he was quietly excited by all the attention. “Maybe.”

Santana was so wrapped up in fantasies of what she and Puck would be doing that night that she took no notice of the conversation between Brittany and Artie across the table. She was roused from her thoughts as the waitress returned with the bill and placed it on their table.

“I can take that when you’re ready,” she told them kindly.

“Thank-you,” said Artie.

Puck leaned forward and lowered his voice. “Alright guys, let’s move. This meal had been copped.”

Santana frowned, a little disappointed that Puck wasn’t going to do the manly thing and pay for their food on their date.

“What?” Artie responded.

“Dude, I don’t pay for food,” Puck hissed. “It’s my thing, yo.” He shrugged. “So we’re going to dine and dash.”

There was a moment of silence where they all exchanged glances. Santana looked at Artie, who looked guilty as all hell as he glanced from Puck to their waitress. She then checked on Puck whose eyes bore down on them all, exuding his own form of peer pressure wordlessly. Lastly, Santana looked over at Brittany – whose expression was easiest for her to read. Brittany didn’t want to do the wrong thing by leaving, but she was obviously inclined to follow Puck’s lead – she’d always been the type of person to follow a lead rather than stand up for herself.

“Let’s go,” Puck encouraged and Santana quickly slid out of the booth.

She made her way over to the door, with Brittany and Puck close at her heels.

“Oh no,” she heard Puck groan.

She stopped and turned around. Brittany came to her side.

“What?” She asked him.

“What is Artie doing?” Puck hissed under his breath, stalking back to their table where Artie had just paid the bill.

Santana and Brittany waited by the door as Puckerman and Artie exchanged words by their table, after which Puck returned and announced that Artie wouldn’t be joining them for the rest of the evening and took one girl in each arm and lead them outside.

“Whose car should we take?” Puck asked.

“Mine,” announced Santana, unlocking her car as they drew nearer. “And I’m driving,” she added as Puck reached for the keys.

They climbed into the car, Puck calling shotgun and Brittany sprawling herself across the backseat.

“Where to?” Santana asked as they pulled out of the car park.

“I was thinking my place,” said Puck. “My mother and sister will be asleep by now.”

“Okay,” Santana agreed, turning towards the Puckerman’s house.

Out of habit, she pulled up around the corner and the three of them got out and crept over to the house, slipping in through the back door and heading straight for Puck’s room, closing the door behind them. Santana crawled onto Puck’s bed, propping herself up against his pillows while Brittany flopped down beside her, spreading out like a starfish, half on the bed and half on Santana’s legs. Puck rummaged through his wardrobe and eventually pulled out his stash. It was a big cardboard box, filled to the brim with a collection of bottles of various types of alcohol – whatever he could lay his hands on. He brought it over to his bed and let Santana and Brittany take their pick before he cracked open a beer and leant back against his desk chair.

Santana and Brittany quickly started downing wine coolers before they attempted to take long swigs of vodka. They giggled together, watching each other’s expression contort as the liquid burned the backs of their throats with Puck eyeing them from across the room. He had always assumed that Santana and Brittany were really close, but the way that Brittany lay against Santana, chatting animatedly while Santana idly stroked Brittany’s blonde locks away from her forehead, made him feel like there was something there that was more than comfortable between them – it was familiar. It was almost like they were used to this sort of intermit physical contact.

His mind whirred. Although he had told Artie that he would be taking the two girls back to his place for some “sooki-sooki”, he had only ever really intended to hang out with the two girls that he considered his best girl friends at William McKinley. Santana and Brittany were both up for almost anything in the sack, however, he hadn’t actually considered that they might go for a threesome – but watching them together right there, made him change his mind.

Puck frowned as her seriously considered how he was going to attack this. If he could pull this off, he would become a legend at their school – the football team would practically throw him a parade. He cracked open his fourth can and made his way over to the bed where he sunk down right beside Santana and Brittany.

“You’re quiet,” Santana observed.

“Must be these beers,” said Puck. “They’re totally relaxing me. Don’t you girls feel… relaxed?” He let his eyes bore into Santana’s reading her expression, which was a mixture of agreement and suspicion. He let his hand graze her thigh smoothly and felt her muscles twitch beneath his touch and her eyes responded with a look of realisation.

He wants a threesome, Santana thought, her eyes widening in surprise. She glanced over at Brittany, who obviously hadn’t made the same connection. Her heart began to beat faster as she considered it. The two people that she loved the most in the world in the same bed? They were like her two best friends, surely it would be weird? She pursed her lips – Puck didn’t seem to think so.

“Do you have any cigs?” Santana asked to change the subject and hopefully Puck’s train of thought until she could decide if she wanted this to happen or not.

Puck blinked at her in surprise. “Yeah sure,” he responded finally, pointing over to his desk. “They should be there somewhere.”

Santana stood up, dislodging both Brittany and Puck as she did so and padded softly across the room. She sifted through Puck’s things and eventually found a pack of Menthols and a lighter. She picked them up and carried them over to the window, throwing it open as she lit a cigarette, which hung, loosely out of her mouth.

She didn’t look back but she knew that both Brittany’s and Puck’s eyes were on her. Their stares bore down on the back of her skull like lasers, searing straight into her mind’s eye. She could practically visualise Brittany’s vacant expression as she watched Santana light up. Coach Sylvester had banned cigarettes – she didn’t want any of her cheerleaders to have weak lungs – but Santana enjoyed the occasional smoke when she drank or was stressed out and Brittany seemed to like watching her smoke, as if living vicariously through her. Puck, however, just found it damn sexy – he had a thing for a girl with a bad attitude.

“For fuck sake,” Santana snapped eventually. “Don’t leave me out here on my own, get over here and gets your smoke on.”

Puck got up first and Brittany followed, making their way over to Puck’s white-framed windows. They were old school, opening up at a small little hinge in the corner and there were three of them, long and skinny, side by side. Each of Santana’s friends unhooked a window on either side of her and leant out into the cool air while Santana handed out the smokes.

Santana took in a deep breath of heavy air, feeling it shoot down her oesophagus and rest comfortably in her chest. She held onto the breath for as long as she could before she gently blew back out again. Beside her, Puck breathed in just as easily, his face wincing slightly at the taste even though Menthols were hardly even strong. On her other side, Brittany spluttered slightly at the exhale like always but she quickly got the hang of it and soon the three of them were smoking in silence – savouring the moment.

Santana wasn’t sure what it was, but there was something about breathing in cloudy air that made her so clear headed. She suddenly wasn’t so up in the air about the whole threesome idea. In honesty, the thought of being in bed with two people had always turned her on a little bit. She never really said no to anything a guy had ever wanted, and so she had tried most things before – except that. Who better to experiment with than the two people she trusted most at McKinley?

She didn’t really care if the whole thing got out at McKinley, which it probably would seen as Puck would want to brag about this for the rest of eternity, so what was the harm?

Santana’s cigarette burned low so she butted it out against the windowsill and dropped it into the garden. She leant back against the frame and breathed deeply, relaxing into the silence.

“Another?” Puck said, offering her the carton.

Santana shook her head and climbed down out of the window. She moved over to the bed and flopped onto its surface. The springs gave way beneath her and then creaked back into their fully extended position causing her to bounce in place. She laughed.

“Hasn’t it just been forever since you could jump on your bed and get away with it?” She giggled.

Puck raised an eyebrow.

“I mean, seriously, how fun was it to be an absolute manic on your bed?” She shrieked as she stood up, feeling dizzy because of all the alcohol, and began to jump on Puck’s bed. She bounded up and down, nearly losing her balance on several occasions.

Brittany’s face cracked into a huge grin and in two second flat, she had discarded her cigarette and bounded over to Santana. She leapt gracefully to the bed and began to jump up and down alongside Santana, reaching for Puck’s ceiling and giggling incessantly. After a moment, Puck wandered over and dove onto the bed, sending Santana and Brittany crashing to the mattress.

“Ahh!” Brittany wailed, grabbing Puck’s pillow and whacking him across the head with it.

Santana laughed and quickly grabbed his other pillow and joined in the Puck beat down. He withered on the bed, his arms up to protect himself from blows to the head as the two girls continued to aim for any part of his body they could reach. Puck leapt up and forced himself onto Santana, pinning her to the mattress as he wrestled the pillow out of her grasp while Brittany shrieked in the background.

While Santana lay underneath Puck’s body, her heart throbbed. The way he forced her arms down and locked her into a still position by straddling her around the waist reminded her of the way Brittany usually was in bed – so forceful, it was invigorating. She could feel a sexual energy charging within her that she desperately wanted to release.

She stopped fighting Puck, falling limp, so he easily pulled the pillow out of her grasp. When he looked down at her, surprised she had given in so easily, Santana pulled herself up, grabbing Puck by the neck and pulling his lips to hers. She planted a long kiss on him, ignoring Brittany’s gasp. She closed her eyes, enjoying the feel of his rough lips on her own for a moment before she slowly broke apart.

Santana swivelled her head to find Brittany. Her friend was frozen awkwardly at the edge of the bed, just behind Puck, pillow in hand. As she watched Santana and Puck, her expression changed from surprised to mischievous. It was clear that she was intrigued by the idea of sharing a lover with Santana and knowing that glint in her eye, Santana guessed that sharing this experience with Brittany would be something to remember.

Santana slipped out from under Puck who responded by sitting upright, following her with his dark eyes as she crawled across to Brittany. Santana levelled her face with Brittany’s. She locked her gaze onto Brittany’s bright blue eyes, watching her best friend’s expression as Santana slowly closed the distance between them. Brittany remained motionless, waiting patiently as Santana drew nearer. Her breathing was audible, coming out in quick sharp rasps until Santana’s lips connected with her own and her breath caught in her chest.

Brittany’s hand found Santana’s face as the two of them kissed lightly. Santana could practically hear Puck’s jaw drop open in shock. The kiss amped up and Santana felt Brittany’s tongue run along Santana’s bottom lip and Brittany slowly forced Santana backwards, until Brittany was lying on top of her.

“Oh, yeah,” came Puck’s husky tone.

Brittany’s hands traced Santana’s curves. Her fingers gently grazed Santana’s thigh, swept past her crotch and then continued up, cupping Santana’s ample breast underneath her cheerio’s uniform. In a haze of pleasure, Santana had almost forgotten Puck was still sitting beside them, watching closely, as Brittany pulled away from her lips and the two girls’ eyes met. Santana hurriedly reached for the zip of Brittany’s uniform and began to pull the blonde’s clothes off as she was overcome with a strong desire to have Brittany right then and there.

Every hair on her body raised as Brittany leant down over her and gently exhaled right beside her ear. She tilted her head back and closed her eyes, waiting for Brittany’s lips to touch her neck.

Her eyes popped open again as the mouth that pressed against her neck was rough, surrounded by prickling facial hair. Santana’s eyes locked onto Puck’s as she realised that Brittany had leant back and allowed Puck to take over. He hovered over her, topless, where Brittany had been only a few minutes earlier, his lips moving from her neck, down her body slowly. He glanced up at her, and met her gaze with a confused expression. He raised an eyebrow, his eyes studying her face.

“Santana?” He prodded. “What’s wrong?”

Santana blinked. “N-nothing,” she replied, shaking her head. “Sorry. Continue.”

Puck sat up. “Are you sure?”

“Yeah, yeah,” said Santana quickly, propping herself up on her elbows. “I think I just need another drink.”

Puck shrugged and leant back slightly so his face was level with Brittany’s. He planted a soft kiss on Brittany’s lips. When he was sure that she was into it, he pulled her onto his lap and began to slowly run his hands down her back, grabbing her by the arse and pulling her right onto his crotch.

As they grinded against each other, Santana forced herself to look away, climbing off the bed. She rummaged through Puck’s stash, eventually finding a couple of UDL’s which she hurriedly cracked open and downed. They were warm and very sweet, making her mouth dry, but she savoured the feeling of her inhibitions slowly drifting away.

As the alcohol hit her, she began to become overwhelmed with her own thoughts and emotions, as the reality of the situation hit her. Her eyes burned as tears sprung in the corners. She endeavoured to wipe them away before either Brittany or Puck perceived them.

Get yourself together, woman, she mentally urged. What is wrong with you? It’s just sex.

She shook her body – attempting to shake off the jealously that consumed her before she had to think about it too much. She returned to the bed, inhaling deeply and trying to calm herself as Puck and Brittany continued dry hump right in front of her. She couldn’t decide what was worse – watching Puck fuck Brittany or Brittany fuck Puck.

“It’s getting late,” Santana spoke up after a few more minutes of agony. “I’m out.”

Brittany snapped her head around as Santana spoke and quickly climbed off Puck’s lap. “San? What’s wrong?”

“Nothing, just tired,” said Santana with a shrug. She got up and began to search for her clothes, quickly changing while both Brittany and Puck sat facing her.

“If you’re not into this, we can just hang out,” Puck offered, although it sounded like he really wanted to continue.

“I can leave if you want Puck all to yourself,” added Brittany, concerned.

“Look, just drop it, okay?” Santana snapped. “Britt, if you want a lift home, get your clothes back on.”

“But you’ve been drinking,” Brittany protested.

“I’m not even that bad.”

“Santana, you’re upset. You always get weepy when you’ve had too much,” Brittany pointed out.

“Fine then!” Santana shouted as she stormed out of Puck’s room. “I’ll fucking walk home.”

                     11th Grade

Santana slung her Cheerio’s duffel bag over her shoulder as she got out of the convertible her father had given her for her birthday. She locked the doors over her shoulder as she strode up to the Puckerman’s house. It was only nine o’clock but Santana chose to divert past the front door and make her way through the backyard to Puck’s bedroom window.

Mrs. Puckerman had never really liked her that much, and showing up this late would probably give conventional, old Mrs. Puckerman a heart attack because even she would know that it was a booty call. Santana tapped on the window and waited. A few minutes later, the blinds lifted and Puck swung the glass window open for her to climb through. As gracefully as she could, Santana slipped through the window and dumped her things on the floor as Puck closed the window behind her.  

“Hey,” she greeted, undoing the buttons on her long jacket to revel a bright red corset, out of which her breasts practically exploded and a skimpy, red lace g-string.  She dropped the jacket and stood in front of Puck, waiting for him to crumble at her feet.

Puck paused, looking her up and down for a moment. “Hey, Santana, I totally forgot that we were meeting up tonight,” he said with a shrug. “I made plans to meet up with some of the boys in like half an hour.”

“And you didn’t think to call me?” Santana snapped, folding her arms angrily.

“Hey, I’ll be back in like, two hours tops,” said Puck, stepping forward and putting his hands around her waist. “Think you can wait for me until then?” He asked sweetly, planting a kiss on her lips.

Santana rolled her eyes. She considered storming off and tearing out of Puck’s street in her car, but she hadn’t seen him in almost a week and she needed him bad. “Fine,” she snapped.

“And, ah, babe?” He continued. “Can I borrow your car?”

“Get fucked,” Santana shot at him. “No one drives my car, but me.”

“Fine! Geez! I’ll take the Volvo,” he retorted quickly.

“Don’t keep me waiting Puck,” Santana hissed as he threw on a jacket and slipped out his bedroom door.

She heard him swipe the car keys off the bench and then disappear out the front door. She lay down on his bed, idly playing with her hair as she waited impatiently. She stared out the window and listened to the stillness of the night until slowly her eyes began to close.

When her eyes fluttered open, sun was streaming in through the white-framed window, dazzling the room in a faint yellow tinge. She sat bolt upright and prepared to smack Puck across the head for not waking her up when he returned, only to find that she was the only one in his room. She raised an eyebrow, confused as she reached for her phone. Maybe he had stayed at Mike’s or Finn’s or something?

There was one voicemail message. She opened it and pressed her phone to her ear.

“Hey, Santana, it’s Puck. I’m in the slammer,” came Puck’s voice. “It’s a bit of a long story but I’m hoping you haven’t gone home yet since I’m already half an hour late. Can you come get me? I don’t want my mum to know what happened last night. I was thinking, you can borrow some money off your dad to bail me out and I’ll pay you back every cent, I swear.”

Santana shut her phone angrily without listening to another word. How dare he leave her here all night without the decency to fuck her first? And then ask her to bail him out of jail so Mrs. Puckerman wouldn’t find out? There was no way she was going to come and save his arse. He’d have to work it out for himself.

Santana got up, grabbed her bag and walked over to the door, ready to let herself out and head back home for a quick shower before school, when she heard the phone’s shrill buzz echo into the room next to her. She hesitated, knowing that she’d never make it across the living room outside Puck’s room and down the hall to the front door before Mrs. Puckerman was out of bed. Sure enough, a few seconds later, she could hear her shuffling around looking for the phone.

Santana groaned, slapping herself with her hand as she waited by the door, listening to Mrs. Puckerman as she picked up the phone – hoping that whatever it was wouldn’t take too long and that the old woman would go back to bed soon.

“Yes, this is Mrs. Puckerman,” Puck’s mother said briskly. There was a pause. “He’s where? No, no, you must have the wrong boy. I’m sure my Noah is in his room right now.” There was more silence. “No, he wouldn’t do this. He knows he’s on his last warning before they cart him off to Juvie. He wouldn’t risk it.” She wailed. “Look, I’m going to check his room right now.”

Santana panicked at the door for a second, wondering if she should hide. She could hear Mrs. Puckerman’s slippers grazing the carpet as she hurried to her son’s room, giving Santana maybe ten seconds to get out of there. Santana darted across the room, springing over Puck’s bed and wading through the mountain of dirty clothes on his floor to get to the window.

“Shit, shit,” she muttered to herself as she shakily flicked the window clasp off its hinges.  

She forced the window open, slipping out just as she heard the doorknob turn and Puck’s bedroom door swing open. The early fall breeze hit her bare skin like an icy outdoor pool on a winter’s day. She crouched beneath the windowsill, clutching her legs to her chest and cursed herself for not grabbing her jacket from Puck’s floor on the way out. She waited patiently, trying not to let her teeth chatter as she listened to the old woman sob into the phone as she realised that her son’s bed was empty.

For a second, she contemplated waiting there until Mrs. Puckerman left, but as she heard the springs give way to her rear end, Santana accepted that Mrs. Puckerman wasn’t leaving anytime soon. She crawled around the side of the house to the front yard, where she stood up and raced across the lawn to her car, hoping that none of the neighbours fancied a peek outside at that particular moment. She threw her things into the car, jumping in and slamming on the accelerator as quickly as she could.

Santana hurried home and got ready for school, making it into the car park just as the bell rang through the school, ending first period. She made her way to the choir room, where they were scheduled to have a Glee Club meeting during recess that day, arriving at the door at the same time as Brittany and Mike Chang, who were deep in conversation about the upcoming football game.

“Hey,” Santana greeted.

“Hey, where’ve you been?” Brittany asked.

“Long story,” Santana sighed. “What’s new?”

“Mike was just telling me about football practice,” replied Brittany as they made their way t the back of the room. “Apparently there’s this new kid called Sam on the team.”

“Damn, that’s another guy on the team I haven’t slept with. If Coach Beiste changes the team around anymore than this, I’m going to have only slept with half the team!”

“I know, right!” Brittany exclaimed.

Santana rested her leg up on the back of a chair and began to stretch out her legs, preparing for gym the next period seen as she hadn’t been up and walking around for nearly as long as she usually would have been on a Monday. Mr. Shue entered and she and Brittany quickly finished their conversation as he began to blab on as usual, sitting down just in time for him to tell them that he had been with Principal Figgins.

“Bad news guys,” he said as he sat down. “Puckerman’s in Juvie.”

Santana rolled her eyes. Of course he was.

“It really was just a matter of time,” said Tina.

“What did he do?” Quinn called out.

“He drove his mum’s Volvo through the front of a convenience store and drove off with the ATM,” Mr. Shue explained.

Santana’s eyes widened as Brittany and a few others laughed. She swallowed a mouthful of saliva, thanking God that she hadn’t let him take her car – her dad would have killed her. She relaxed in her seat, thankful that Mrs. Puckerman had contacted the school so she didn’t have to be the one to tell everyone what her idiot boy-toy had done.

“And when is he getting out?” Rachael asked.

Will frowned. “Unknown.”

“He’s the dumbest person on this planet and that’s coming from me,” piped up Brittany.

“Guys, let’s have some sympathy,” Mr. Shue pleaded.

“For a guy who put his needs before the teams?” Finn interjected. “We need his voice and his bad boy stage presence.”

Will rolled his eyes. “We can’t look at this as a crisis. It’s an opportunity.”

“For what?” Quinn piped up. “Further embarrassment and humiliation?”

“For welcoming our new member, Sam Evans!” Mr. Shue declared, pointing at the door as a tall, pale white boy with light blonde hair and a voluptuous set of lips jogged inside.”

“How’s it going?” He greeted, stopping next to Mr. Shue. “Hey everybody, I’m Sam.” He took Mr. Shue’s hand, which he had extended as a sign of welcome.  “Sam I am.” He paused. “And I don’t like green eggs and ham.”

“Oh, wow,” said Santana, glancing across at Brittany. “He has no game.”

As Finn got up and welcomed Sam, Santana watched Sam idly. He would more than likely be a relatively easy conquest, which gave her no motivation to rush. She figured that she’d let it hang for a while and see if he had the potential to become a somebody at this school before she climbed on top of him – after all, she had to have some integrity when it came to who she got in bed with.

She came back to the conversation just as Mr. Sue finished blabbing on about something or other and he announced that he was making the week’s Duet assignment a competition.

“What’s the winner get?” Mike asked.

“Dinner for two, on me,” announced Mr. Sue. “At BreadstiX!”

The choir room buzzed.

Santana gasped. “I have to win!” She exclaimed. She turned to Brittany who looked just as excited. “Oh my God,” she gushed. “I just have to win!”

For the rest of the day, Santana and Brittany talked about BreadstiX, reminiscing over all the times they’d been there since they became friends over two years ago. It wasn’t until after they’d finished Cheerio’s practice late that night after that they realised that they hadn’t talked about what they were doing after school.

“Should we hang out at yours tonight?” Santana suggested, feeling vitalised rather than exhausted after Cheerio’s practice and frankly, a little frisky after missing out on sleeping with Puck the night before.

“Yeah,” Brittany agreed, following Santana to the car park and getting into the passenger seat. “I just downloaded the new season of Gossip Girl if you want to watch it.”

Santana smirked at Brittany playfully. “I have something else in mind,” she cooed suggestively, as she tore out of the car park.

Brittany smiled, partially excited by Santana’s suggestion, and partially exhilarated by the way Santana drove. Santana had passed her driver’s exam with flying colours – she knew exactly how to handle a car – but she loved feeling as if she was in control of something very powerful, which gave her these impulses to tear off at ridiculous speeds, and wait until the last minute to slow down for a stop sign. It made her feel like she was living on the edge.

Brittany never got scared that they were going to crash because she trusted Santana more than anything and she knew that Santana wasn’t suicidal – plus with her driving, they were at Brittany’s house in five minutes flat.

The two girls pulled their things out of Santana’s car and headed for the front door. The house was locked and empty so Santana sorted through Brittany’s keys, letting them in and flipping on the lights.

“Where are your parents?” Santana asked, dumping her things by the door.

“Some dinner thing I think,” replied Brittany, wandering into the kitchen with Santana close at her heels. “Do you want to order Pizza?”

“Yeah,” said Santana, pulling out her hair band so her long dark hair hung loosely over her shoulders. She hoisted herself up onto the counter as Brittany rang the nearest Pizza place and ordered their usual.

Santana smiled as she listened to Brittany whisper down the phone line. Coach Sylvester kept a close eye on all of her Cheerio’s diets and Pizza was not included in a single girl’s eating regime after she had exploded at their old Captain Alana, who’s last year on the squad had been two years ago, after a Pizza party incident. Since then, Brittany had developed a habit of whispering when she was ordering food that their Coach wouldn’t approve of – one of her adorable qualities. 

“Okay, it’ll be here in like half an hour,” announced Brittany.

“Ahh, perfect amount of time,” replied Santana, hoping down from the counter and putting her arms around Brittany’s waist. She planted a soft kiss on Brittany’s lips before she dragged the blonde upstairs to her bedroom.

Brittany’s room was much brighter than Santana’s, with floral wall paper and an old single bed that she’d has since she was three, complete with pink and blue covers sitting right in the middle. Santana made a beeline for the bed, not bothering to take in any other details as she pushed Brittany onto the mattress and hovered over the top of her. She lowered herself, as Brittany got comfortable and gently kissing her mouth. Brittany grinned as Santana began to nuzzle her neck, kissing and nipping her neck, exactly the way Brittany liked it.

“I love your sweet lady kisses,” whispered Brittany.

“Mmm-hmm,” murmered Santana as she found the spot just down from Brittany’s left ear that was particularly sensitive.

As she processed what Brittany had said, she paused, realising that Brittany was implying that she hadn’t kissed her in a while – which was partially true; at the last few sleepovers, there had been a lot of sex and not a lot of anything else involved. She lifted herself up off Brittany for a moment, looking her straight in the eye. “It’s a nice break from all the, scissoring.” She made sure she put a slight twang on ‘scissoring’, which would remind Brittany of how good that part was too – and hopefully get her in the mood for that a bit later on in the night.

She could feel Brittany’s smile stretch as she leaned back down to kiss her neck as Brittany recalled what Santana was talking about. A small chuckle escaped her.

“We should do a duet together!” Brittany’s eyes widened as an idea crossed her head. “We should sing Melissa Etheridge’s ‘Come Through My Window’!” She suggested.

Santana groaned inwardly, frustrated that neither Puck nor Brittany seemed to be quite as in the mood as she was. She quickly pulled away from Brittany. “First of all, there is a lot of talking going on, and I wants to get my mack on,” she told Brittany seriously before she leant back down to Brittany’s neck.

Brittany frowned, confused. “Well, I don’t know… I just think we should –”

Santana pulled right away, sitting up on the mattress and facing away from Brittany. She knew she shouldn’t have led with kissing – it always made Brittany feel like she wanted to be intimate with her and talk and stuff, which just wasn’t Santana’s deal. She felt Brittany roll onto her side and follow her with her gaze.

“Second of all, I am not making out with you because I’m in love with you and want to sing about making lady babies,” Santana told her as she began to pull her hair back up into a ponytail. “I’m only here because Puck’s been in the slammer for about twelve hours now, and I’m like a lizard. I need something warm beneath me or I can’t digest my food.”

Brittany looked down at her mattress sadly. “But who am I going to sing a duet with?” She asked, her mind still focused on what they had been talking about together all day.

Santana smirked, already planning to ask Mercedes Jones to be her partner – because even though she wanted to go to BreadstiX with Brittany, she knew she wouldn’t win without someone really talented like Mercedes. But it was more than that. If she sang with Brittany, she knew that Brittany might get confused about where they stood. She was already frequently questioning Santana about their relationship as it was and Santana just didn’t want to deal with all that right now. Right now, she was in the mood for somebody, anybody warm to be beneath her.

Santana stood up. “I’ve gotta go.” She told Brittany.

“What about Pizza?” said Brittany sadly.

“I don’t know, just give some to Lord Tubbington or some shit. I don’t care,” said Santana as she slipped out the door, leaving Brittany laying alone on her bed.

                                            11^th Grade

Santana stormed out of Coach Sylvester’s office, holding back a stream of tears that were building up in her eye sockets. She resisted the urge to throw a tantrum, to slam the door of Coach Sylvester’s office because she knew, that even at the bottom of the squad’s pyramid, she was better off there than not on the squad at all. Coach Sylvester wasn’t the type of person to take shit; Santana would be off the team faster than you could say Glee Club if she stepped out of line in front of her coach.

Instead, she stormed down the hallway, bubbling with rage. Students parted for her like the red sea had for Moses as they took in Santana’s ferocious gaze. Then, up ahead, Santana noticed a glint of red supported by a girl with blonde hair. It was Quinn.

All of a sudden, Coach Sylvester’s words recrossed her mind – “a little birdie told me” and “Quinn will be replacing you as captain” – and Santana’s eyes widened in realisation. Quinn Fabray had betrayed her to their Coach to wheedle her way back onto the team, and back into the top dog of the school, knocking Santana down in the process. They were supposed to be friends.

Santana surged forwards, heading straight for Quinn as the blonde strode down the hall, all proud in her Cheerio’s uniform. She reached out and pushed Quinn right in the back, forcing her into the lockers that lined the hallway with a momentous grunt. Quinn spun around quickly, as though she had been poised for the attack and pushed Santana off her, back into the middle of the hallway.

“You did this to me! You told Coach Sylvester about my summer surgery!” Santana accused.

“You have a surgery when you get your appendix out!” Quinn retorted quickly. “You got a boob job.”

Santana nodded. “Yep, sure did!” She spat, slapping Quinn hard across the face.

Quinn staggered and then turned back to Santana. “You can’t hit me!” She yelled.

“Sure I can!” Santana countered. “Unless you got yourself knocked up again slut!”

Quinn’s face contorted into rage as she grabbed Santana by the arms and threw her into the lockers. Like a cat, Santana slipped out of her grasp and as Quinn turned to see where she had disappeared to, Santana forced herself on top of Quinn as she pinned the blonde against the lockers. Quinn reached for Santana’s long, black hair and pulled until Santana howled with pain. Taking advantage of Santana’s moment of weakness, Quinn tried to push Santana to the floor, only to be met by a violent shove to the shoulders.

Quinn lost balance as the sheer force of Santana’s powerful push sent her tumbling towards the ground. As Quinn, hurriedly tried to stagger to her feet again, her eyes set on Santana’s smug face, who she stood hovering above her, ready for Quinn to fight back, Mr. Shue stepped in.

“Hey, hey, hey!” he shouted, getting between the two just as Quinn prepared to launch herself at Santana – holding them apart at arm’s length.  “What is this? What happened to us being a family?” He managed to choke out as the two girls continued to struggle against him. “Hey!”

He let go of Santana as Quinn made a desperate attempt to lunge forward, catching her before she could move more than a few centimetres.

“Oh, please,” Santana scoffed, standing back from the two. “She has a family! She’s a mother!”

Now facing Santana and restraining Quinn from behind, Mr. Shue stood ready for the fight to continue to turn ugly. He could feel Quinn resisting behind him while Santana looked oddly calm and triumphant at this point.

“Walk away!” Quinn shouted viciously as Mr. Shue held her back. “And tighten up your body before you get to class!” She struggled to break free of Mr. Shue’s grasp as Santana stalked away, praying to be able to get one more hit in. Instead, she had to watch from inside Mr. Shue’s bone-crunching clasp as Santana flipped her off, walking away with Brittany following like a puppy behind her.

As Santana prowled down the hallway, angrily throwing students out of her way as she left Quinn standing there with Mr. Shue, she boiled with anger. She felt like Quinn had definitely come off second best – which was the only reason why she was physically able to walk away from her – but she was still fuming at this cheerleading revelation.

Brittany hurried to keep up with her, following a few steps behind as Santana headed straight for the girl’s bathroom rather than fourth period English. She burst through the door and screamed “Get out,” to the freshman huddled by the sink. They scurried out, fear-stricken, just as Brittany entered.

“Santana?” She gasped. “Are you okay?”

“No, I’m not okay Brittany,” Santana snarled. “I just got demoted from head cheerleader and pushed to the bottom of the pyramid.”

“Why?” Brittany asked.

“Because Quinn ratted me out to Coach Sylvester about my boob job over the summer.”

“Oh, what a bitch,” said Brittany, calmly stroking Santana’s arm as she stood, leaning over the sink.

“Why did I get a boob job?” Santana grumbled angrily. “I was on top, why did I rock the boat?”

“You said they made you feel good about yourself,” Brittany reminded her. “They made you get more attention and that made you happy.”

“But now look where I am,” Santana snivelled. “Sulking in the bathroom.”

There was a moment of silence. “If it makes you feel any better, I like them,” said Brittany. “I think they make you look super hot.”

Santana’s mouth tweaked into a smile. “Want to feel them? They feel so real too.”

Brittany’s eyes widened and she nodded enthusiastically. She reached out and cupped a breast in each of her hands, kneading them with her fingers while Santana’s eyes quickly ran dry and her anger slowly started to fade.

Santana even laughed as she watched Brittany’s expression – so keenly interested in what she was doing. “Thanks Britt, you always know how to make me feel better.”

Brittany smiled at her.

“You can let go of my boobs now,” Santana added with a chuckle.

“Oh, sorry,” said Brittany as her hands swung off Santana’s chest.

                                                        10th grade

“What do you want to watch? Sweet Valley High?” Santana asked Brittany.

Brittany, who was running her hands idly over one of Santana’s throw pillows, shrugged. “Whatever you want to watch is cool.” She tilted her head sideways as Santana pulled out a Sweet Valley High DVD and stuck it into the player beneath the television in her room.

Santana pressed play and returned to the bed beside Brittany. She sat up, with pillows propped up behind her, staring intently at the screen. Brittany edged over towards her, snuggling closer to Santana’s body when Santana abruptly scooted over.

“Santana?” Brittany questioned, confused.

Santana ignored her.

“Did I do something wrong?” Brittany asked.

“I don’t know Britt, what do you think?” Santana snapped back sarcastically without making eye contact.

“Well we always get our cuddle on when we watch Sweet Valley High,” Brittany mused. “And sometimes sweet lady kisses if you’re in the mood, which is like always.”

“Not today,” she grumbled.

“What did I do Santana?” Brittany asked sadly.

“You just have to be more careful with what you say Britt,” Santana replied eventually, turning to face Brittany.

Brittany stared up at her with a vacant expression, obviously missing what Santana was getting at.

“Today, at school, on the phone,” Santana prompted. “The whole ‘sex isn’t dating’ thing.” She paused, waiting for a light of realisation to spark in Brittany’s eyes – it never came. “You can’t just go around telling people that we sleep together Britt. The kids at school might get the wrong idea.”

“Nobody seemed to care,” Brittany mumbled, hanging her head. “Maybe it will be different for us… because we’re so popular.”

“Not too long ago, Quinn was top dog around here and look how quickly they dumped her when they found out she was pregnant,” Santana explained. “If anyone finds out, we could end up on our arses like Quinn and then what will happen? There are no more cool kids to take over – the next thing you know it will be Rachael Berry at the top of the school. Do you want that to happen Brittany?”

Brittany blinked at Santana blankly.

“The answer is no,” filled in Santana. “You have to do this for the good of the school, okay?”

Brittany pursed her lips, thinking. “Okay.”

“Good girl,” Santana praised. “Hopefully, the Glee kids will just assume you were joking or forget about it in all the preparation for sectionals.”

“Santana?” said Brittany after a minute of silence.

“Mmm?”

“I don’t understand what this is,” said Brittany.

Santana paused. “It’s just sex Britt.” She replied. “Like friends with benefits… Or even just friends talking with their tongues super close.”

Brittany pursed her lips, unsure of how to respond.

It was true that she and Santana had been getting together frequently since Nationals the year before, either at sleepovers or when their parents weren’t home after school. Even when they had boyfriends – or boyfriends in Brittany’s case and boy-toys in Santana’s – they never stopped being intermit with each other. Brittany knew that was okay though, as Santana had clearly explained that it’s only cheating if it’s with someone with the same plumbing as your partner – but the relationship still confused Brittany.

Santana was probably the least affectionate person she knew. She wouldn’t even hug or kiss her own family. When Santana was with a guy, there was no hand-holding or sweet, tender kisses – it was all hot, passionate sex with no eye contact or intimacy. Santana said that it was “the way she liked it”. However, around Brittany she was different – like a whole different person.

They would cuddle on the couch when they watched movies or Sweet Valley High. They would kiss without the pretence of sex. They would link pinkies – because Brittany knew not to try to hold Santana’s hand in public – and lean on each other when they were feeling tired or sad. The more time passed, the more affectionate Santana became towards Brittany to the point where sex didn’t feel like just sex anymore.

It confused the hell out of Brittany – especially since every now and again, Santana would get all distant and the two of them would have to start all over again when it came to her being comfortable with hugs and kisses.

“Friends just talking with their tongues super close,” Brittany repeated, lying down alongside Santana’s body and resting her head on Santana’s chest. “I like it.”

Santana smiled down at Brittany, unable to stay mad at her best friend for too long. She ran her fingers through Brittany’s beautiful blonde hair and kissed her on the forehead before she turned her attention back to the screen.

              9^th grade

“Your 2009 national champions are…”

A moment of silence fell over the stands and floor as the presenter’s voice faded into an echo in the southern Florida stadium where the National Cheerleading Championships were being held that year. Santana could almost hear everyone in the stands and the two teams on the floor hold their breath in anticipation. She could feel her heart pounding violently against her chest as she squeezed Brittany’s hand with her right and Quinn’s with her left.

Her stomach fluttered nervously at the idea of ending her first year as a cheerleader as a part of a National Championship team, especially since the Cheerio’s had taken out the title for the past four years in a row. Santana could hear the presenter take the envelope which held the name of the new national champions and slowly pull out the card within. She dared not look up at him, waiting with her head hung and her eyes closed.

“The William McKinley Cheerio’s!” The presenter’s voice boomed.

An uproar of cheers and screams filled the stadium.

Santana leapt into the air as Coach Sylvester and their captain Alana proceeded to the front to collect their National trophy. She felt two strong bodies collide with her as Quinn and Brittany embraced her, jumping up and down, completely ecstatic.

“I can’t believe it!” Quinn exclaimed.

“Yay!” Brittany enthused.

The team encircled Alana and Coach Sylvester, admiring the beautiful gold trophy as the various cameras flashed in their direction. Santana grinned broadly up at all the flashing lights, unable to believe that at fifteen, she was already part of a nationally recognised cheerleading team. She held her smile perfectly as the cameramen panned across the group and the photographers hastened to get the best shot for almost an hour; and she was still smiling when Coach Sylvester gave them permission to celebrate before she was whisked away for interviews.

 “Party in my room!” Alana announced as she thrust the trophy into the air. “Be there in an hour!”

It was almost sunset when Santana and Brittany had finally finished getting ready. They had been slightly held up by the impromptu appearance of Quinn and her roommate Alex who had come loaded with three bottle of Vodka. Now, a little more than slightly tipsy with only one bottle left, they checked themselves out in the mirror one last time.

Quinn was wearing a pretty white sundress that was low cut on her chest but fell almost to her knees with a pair of strappy white wedges. Brittany had on a pair of denim short shorts and a white top with a pink floral pattern that covered about the same percentage of her torso as a sports bra with a pair of nude stiletto’s. Santana had chosen a little black, open back dress and black Tony Bianco heels. Alex was wearing just a black bikini top and a pair of high waisted black shorts and sandals.

The four girls made their way down to the ground floor where the older cheerleader’s rooms were. The party was already in full swing, with many of the guests not even a part of the Cheerio’s team. As the hotel rooms were quite small, the party spilled out onto the hotel lawns, which lay just beyond the open courtyard off Alana’s room, and into the adjoining room next door, which belonged to Alana’s best friend Courtney.

The music blasted loudly, vibrating up Santana’s spine. She gazed around the room and felt her hormones charge. There were so many shirtless guys and half-naked girls surrounding her.  All of the exposed skin in the haze of her drunken gaze gave her stomach nervous butterflies. Her eyes moved, dazed from one person to the next, feeling her heart throb at the sight of all the sexy people in the one place.

Alex dragged them to the tables where Alana had laid out cups and an enormous collection of alcohol and started pouring Tequila shots. From there, the night was just a series of flashes.

The next thing she remembered was playing drinking games in Courtney’s room after which was a big blank gap until she was talking to one of the senior cheerleaders, Dominique, before Alana swept him away without even a kiss. Then she somehow ended up with a whole bunch of the Cheerio’s and members of the runner up team in the hotel pool without a bathing suit on followed by dancing in wet clothes in Alana’s courtyard with Brittany and Quinn. 

It was almost four am when she and Brittany finally stumbled back to their room, meaning that they would only have about two hours of sleep before they had to be back up to go home to Ohio.

“What a great night,” Brittany giggled as she flopped down onto her bed. As always, she had seemed to have lost her top whist in the haze of drunken partying; so she lay there in a bra and shorts and dripping wet hair from the pool.

“Would have been better if I had of been able to get my mack on,” Santana grumbled. “Why do all of the guys here have to be homo’s or belong to one of the older cheerleaders?”

Brittany shrugged. “I still had fun dancing so I don’t care.”

“Well I do,” Santana snapped. “I have to sleep with someone when I get drunk… It’s like the law.”

She felt so sexually charged, she couldn’t bring herself to lay down, even though she was exhausted. Ever since she had lost her virginity to Matt in the Christmas holidays that year, she felt like she was constantly craving someone to touch her.

Seeing her friend so obviously frisky, Brittany stood up and walked over to Santana. She cupped her face in her hand and leaned in and kissed Santana. At most parties these days, they seemed to be making out at one point or another – usually to capture the attention of another guy but this kiss was different. It was so strong and intermit – the most soft and tender kiss Santana had ever received.

She wasn’t even consciously aware that in that moment, she had made the decision that she was going to take things further than Brittany had intended with the kiss – her hormones were raging so ferociously that she was just on autopilot, doing exactly what her instincts told her.

Santana wrapped her arms around Brittany’s waist, pulling her closer so their bodies clung to each other. Brittany responded by arching her arms over Santana’s shoulders as Santana’s lips closed over her own. Locked together tightly, Santana pushed Brittany back towards her bed, crashing down on top of her as they lost their balance right in front of it.

Brittany’s hands moved up into Santana’s long dark locks and Santana began to yank of Brittany’s shorts and then tug off her own dress before leaning back down to urgently plant a tender wet kiss on Brittany’s mouth. Santana sat on Brittany’s lap, grinding against the blonde’s inner thigh as they kissed passionately.

Santana’s lips gently moved down Brittany’s neck, kissing, sucking, licking and nipping against the blonde’s warm, wet skin as she moved down her body. She unlatched the blonde’s bra in one swift motion as Brittany arched her chest towards Santana’s mouth. Santana took one breast in her hand while kissing the other gently. Brittany breathed heavily as her nipples grew erect under Santana’s lips.

Santana’s hands gently grazed Brittany’s body as she moved further south, glancing back up at Brittany every few moments to watch her entire body quiver. Santana felt for Brittany’s underwear, using her index finger to slowly tug them down. Her head finally drew level with Brittany’s crotch.

She blinked in surprise when she noticed Brittany was wearing Superman underwear but didn’t hesitate in pulling them right off her long slender legs. Her hands moved up and down Brittany’s thighs, making the blonde tremble. Santana gently caressed the region between Brittany’s legs, rubbing until her hands were covered in fluid. She tentively ran her index finger along Brittany’s slit, finding the opening and exploring the cave inside.

Brittany’s back arched, pushing her crotch towards Santana, welcoming her touch. Santana kept one eye on Brittany’s expression as she found Brittany’s G-spot and rhythmically pressed her fingers against it. When Brittany started to moan with pleasure, she bent down and began to flick her tongue over her clitoris, which rendered Brittany practically soundless. Santana felt Brittany suddenly shudder and in a flash of limbs, Brittany had grabbed Santana, twisted her around and thrown her back down onto the bed.

Brittany hovered over her, a cheeky grin spreading across her face as she bent down over Santana’s body and ripped off her underwear in the two rapid manoeuvres. Santana shivered as she felt Brittany’s hands explore every inch of her body.  Santana shifted, trying to move upwards to kiss Brittany as she hovered tantalisingly close. Brittany pushed her back down forcibly and Santana felt her heart skip a beat. Her eyes widened in shock and pleasure as she registered this very different Brittany in bed. 

 “Cheerio’s. Out of bed.”

Coach Sylvester’s megaphone crackled faintly in the distance, causing both Santana and Brittany to pause. 

Santana leapt to her feet and ran to the balcony. Peering through the curtains, she could see that the sun was already peeking over the horizon, casting a glow over the hotel lawn. Coach Sylvester stood in the middle of the lawn with her megaphone at her lips, walking down the length of the three-story hotel room, waking everyone in their wing of the building.

“Shit, it must be six am,” Santana hissed at Brittany who was still sitting on the bed. “Quick, pack your stuff. We have to be down there in half an hour.”

Brittany got up and started searching the room for her clothes. “Here’s your bra.”

Santana swiped her bra from Brittany’s hands and hastily put it back on. “There’s your shorts and top,” she replied, pointing to the floor near the television set.

Santana reached down and grabbed hers and Brittany’s underwear.

“Why do you wear Superman underwear?” She asked as she slipped on her own lace panties and handed Brittany’s back to her.

“Because boys love Superman,” Brittany replied with a shrug. “When you’re in bed with a guy, you have to wear something that they like. Everybody knows that.”

Santana laughed as she picked up her black dress and shoved it back into her suitcase. “So by that logic, you should wear flower underwear or some shit when you’re with me?”

“Yeah,” replied Brittany as she threw on tracksuit pants and a loose T-Shirt.

There was a moment of silence as Santana changed.

“So Britt,” she said eventually. “Let’s not tell anyone about this.”

“Do we have to stop doing it?” Brittany asked. “Because I kind of liked it.”

“No, of course we can still do it… But it will be our little secret alright?” said Santana gently.

“A secret? Yeah, I like secrets,” Brittany replied, grinning mischievously.

“It’ll be like, our own little secret club,” Santana told her.

tumblrbot asked: WHERE WOULD YOU MOST LIKE TO VISIT ON YOUR PLANET?

1. LA to try and meet Naya Rivera, Heather Morris and Jennifer Aniston

2. Rome

3. Swiss Alps

9th Grade

A stream of fine grains of sand and dirt slipped through the crevices of the wooden bridge above Santana’s head. They hit the ground just in front of Santana’s small, black BMX bike wheel as a train clattered over the tracks on the bridge above. She hit the brakes, skidding to a stop on the bank of the wetlands over which the train line ran.

The last time she had been here when a train had roared overhead was months ago now – just before she had started at William McKinley High School in central Lima Heights. She had been saying goodbye to her friend from Lima Heights Adjacent (or LMA) Middle School, Adriana, after her father had decided to transfer her.

Santana could understand her father’s decision. Lima Heights Adjacent had been suffering from conflict for decades. With the upper-middle and high-class neighbourhood, overlooking the wetlands and the rest of Lima Heights, neighbouring the lowest-class neighbourhood of Lima with just a set of train tracks to separate them, the youth of the two neighbourhoods were known to get violent. Especially since the rich estate was full of bored rich kids who were always on crack and the slums were ridden with angry Latino’s who just had to look across the tracks and see what they were missing out on to get excessively aggressive.

Even though the Lopez’s owned one of the nicest houses in the estate, and her father was a doctor, Santana had been so torn by all of the conflict, more so than the others. On one hand, she was a spoilt rich girl who got everything her heart desired, living in the nicest estate in Lima. On the other, her roots were Hispanic and to keep true to this, her father hadn’t enrolled her at the posh private schools that the other kids in her neighbourhood were attending – attending LMA for the first two years of middle school. Luckily, as long as she only wore her rattiest clothes to school and didn’t invite anyone over, the kids all assumed that she was one of them and she had avoided being targeted.

When her father had told her that she was transferring she was actually relieved to be rid of all the drama – even if it meant transferring to a weird secondary school that had both the middle years and high school years rolled into one school. On her first day at William McKinley, when she told students that she was from Lima Heights Adjacent, they had all assumed that she was a bad ass from the slums because of her Hispanic heritage. She quickly found that she enjoyed playing it up because the more she exaggerated herself (telling them that she’s shoplifted her Chanel purse rather than telling them that it had been a Christmas present) the more the students feared and were in awe of her, and the more popular she became. She was able to spend her parent’s money frivolously on clothes and shoes that she was actually able to wear for once.

A few weeks later, she had been introduced to another transfer student, Quinn Fabray, and the two had quickly used each other to sail to the top of the William McKinley popularity hierarchy, forming what was coming to be known as the “Unholy Trinity” between them and the school’s most popular girl Brittany Pierce. Now, Santana felt closer to these two other girls in a few months than she had ever felt to anyone at LMA in over two years.

Tonight, Brittany was even coming over to her house, which was the first time Santana had ever let anyone know where she lived; At LMA, she hadn’t wanted to make herself a target, and at William McKinley, she hadn’t wanted to ruin the fantasy. Santana looked over her shoulder to make sure Brittany was still behind her to find her new best friend grinning broadly. Brittany was astride an old, pink Malvin Star complete with tassels and a bright violet bell which was slightly too big for her so she had to stand when she stopped rather than sit.

“This way,” Santana said, leading the way down the dirt track, along the border of the wetlands and up towards the estate.

Brittany was very athletic as she’d joined the Cheerio’s in her freshman year and kept up with Santana easily. Santana, who had just recently joined cheerleading, since LMA hadn’t had the funding for any sporting teams except football, was strong after many years of gymnastics outside of school, but not nearly as strong in her cardio-vascular endurance. She peddled hard, pushing herself so that Brittany wouldn’t think she was unfit.

They reached Santana’s drive and she finally slowed down, riding alongside Brittany.

“Is this your house?” Brittany asked as they drew level. “Santana are you a princess?”

Santana laughed, getting more and more used to the weird things Brittany said that they were starting to make sense to her. “No.” Santana glanced over at Brittany, wondering if she would realise that all of the things she had told everyone about being from Lima Heights Adjacent were a large stretch of the truth, but Brittany peddled along blissfully.

They left their bikes by the garage and entered through the front door. Santana dumped her school bag by the antique table in the centre of the chandelier-lit foyer, almost knocking the vase of lilies flying. Brittany copied her gracefully.

“Santana?” Mrs. Lopez’s voice called from the kitchen, her Latino accent thick.

Santana led the way through the double doors behind the grand staircase, into a spacious kitchen. Mrs. Lopez was busy chopping vegetables while her younger brother Diego sat on a stool at the island bench doing second grade spelling homework. Mrs. Lopez didn’t look up as Santana entered, concentrating hard on getting dinner organised.

“How was your day sweetheart?” She asked.

“Good. My arms feel like they’re going to drop off from all this cheerleading practice,” Santana replied.

Mrs. Lopez laughed and looked up for the first time to spot Brittany standing cautiously behind Santana, peering out at Mrs. Lopez and Diego curiously. “Whose your friend?” Mrs. Lopez asked, obviously surprised to see Santana bring home a friend.

“This is Brittany,” Santana introduced.

“Hi Mrs. Lopez,” said Brittany brightly.

“Ah, please, call me Sofia,” said Mrs. Lopez. “Brittany, will you be staying for tea?”

“I rode my bike over so I should probably only stay for a little while. I’m not allowed to ride home in the dark,” Brittany replied. “Plus it’s scary.”

“We can drop you home if you like Brittany,” Mrs. Lopez replied. “I’m sure Carlos can fit your bike into that bat mobile of his.”

Brittany’s eyes widened as Mrs. Lopez referred to Dr. Lopez’s small black turbo charged sports car as the ‘bat mobile’ as Mrs. Lopez thought it was an unnatural looking car.

“Ok, we’re gonna be in my room,” Santana told her mother as she led the way back out of the kitchen. She grabbed both hers and Brittany’s bags so they could start their maths homework that was due the next day, before dinner.

“You didn’t tell me that your dad was Batman,” Brittany hissed as the two girls climbed the stairs to the second floor.

Santana laughed and opened the door to her bedroom, across the hall from her own bathroom at the end of the landing. She closed it behind Brittany as she entered.

Her room was quite large, and rectangular. Beautiful dark wallpaper covered the walls along with numerous posters. She had two large dressers, one between the door and her walk-in-wardrobe, and the other opposite her bed. A low armless couch lay under the window on the far side of the room near an elaborate stereo and a tv hung mounted on the wall in the corner of the room.

“Wow, this is so cool,” said Brittany as she flopped down on Santana’s double bed. “Do you have boys staying over all the time?”

“Oh, yeah,” lied Santana, remembering to keep up her bad ass persona. “All the time.”

“Wow,” Brittany repeated. She paused for a moment, watching as Santana got out both hers and Brittany’s books from their bags and set them up next to her on the bed.

“What’s it like to kiss someone Santana?” Santana hesitated.

The truth was – she’d never even held a boys hand. No one at her old school was very affectionate unless they had been real sluts. However, the more she had told people she’d done, the more they seemed to look up to her. “Ah, I don’t know – good.” She lay down next to Brittany and opened her books.

“No, tell me what it’s like.”

“I can’t explain it Brittany,” Santana replied shortly, trying to focus on her maths homework.

Brittany eventually gave up and looked down at her book. She studied the problem for a few minutes before she spoke again. “Why won’t you tell me?”

“Just drop it Brittany or I’ll go all Lima Heights on your ass.”

Brittany sat up, starring at Santana intently. “If you don’t tell me what it’s really like, how will I know what to do when someone kisses me?”

“You’ll just know,” said Santana, trying to sound confident.

More silence.

“Santana, will you show me?” Brittany asked.

Santana looked up at Brittany. Her eyes were alight with curiosity. It was obvious that she trusted Santana deeply – the two of them had clicked right away and become the best of friends, even better friends than Santana had been with Adriana in over two years. It felt nice having someone she could trust, and she knew that she must be just as important to Brittany. A best friend – something she’d never had before.

Santana dropped her pen and knelt on all fours. She crawled closer to Brittany. Brittany leaned in towards her, nervous and excited. Santana closed her eyes because that’s what they always did in the movies about now and tried to copy what she’d seen a hundred times over.

She felt her lips touch Brittany’s. They were slightly parted and tasted like lip smackers. She closed her lips on Brittany’s bottom lip and ran her tongue over the delicious strawberry flavour of her lips. Brittany’s lips began to respond to hers and reciprocate. As Santana began to doubt herself, she pulled away. She waited anxiously, not sure if she had done it right, for Brittany to say something.

Brittany’s mouth slowly tweaked into a smile. “I am so going to do that again, with everyone.”

“Girls, dinner!” Mrs. Lopez called.