Fic: Let's Blame the Heat - (5/?) NC17
Title: Let's Blame the Heat
Pairing: Santana/Brittany
Rating: NC17/M
Summary: Santana would like to blame the heat, but it's much more than that; it's all Brittany.
Spoilers: None really, but it's a first-time fic so before they started doing the nasty or telling people about it on the phone.
Disclaimer: These characters are not mine and I make no money from them.
Chapter Five
They’d been at the party for a few hours now, and Santana was definitely feeling the buzz of alcohol. She’d avoided talking to anybody from Glee for as long as possible, but Quinn had cornered her at one point and dragged her over to where they were. She hadn’t been able to get away since, forced to listen to Finn being moronic, Rachel talking about herself non-stop, and Kurt droning on and on about how difficult it was to be different.
She’d wanted to get away, but Brittany had been more than happy to be around them, so Santana had reluctantly stuck by her, drinking and scowling and wishing she was up and dancing with most of the other occupants of the party. Chang was doing his thing on the makeshift dance floor now, almost looking like he’d choreographed his own routine, even though it was just a party in his house.
“Want to dance?” Brittany asked in Santana’s ear. She was sitting close to Santana and had been all night. Closer than normal even.
Just a little earlier while Rachel was causing Santana undue stress with her desire to throttle the midget, Brittany had placed her hand softly on Santana’s lower back as she sat beside her. She wasn’t sure if she’d done it to soothe her as her blood began to boil, or if there was another reason. Though Santana’s first instinct had been to pull away, she hadn’t, enduring the touch and actually finding that it did calm her, at least a little. Rachel had been lucky to escape with nothing more than a biting remark.
Trying not to shudder just from having Brittany speak in her ear, Santana finished off her drink, looked over at the Glee geeks as they chatted amongst themselves, and nodded. Hell, what did she care what they thought? It wasn’t as if they’d be doing anything weird; dancing at a party was normal, and even Tina and Artie had spun around the place a few times to the music.
For some reason it just felt strange having them all there, however. She wasn’t sure why, but she felt awkward, nervous even. Maybe they knew her a little more than she cared for. Maybe it was because she’d been herself amongst them - her real self - more than she had been with the Cheerios or anybody else she hung out with, other than Brittany of course. She shouldn’t care if they made judgments on her, but she did.
Reluctantly, she guessed she kind of liked them. Not that she’d ever call them friends, but they were closer to her than most people.
“Come on,” Brittany encouraged, pulling the empty glass from Santana’s hand and placing it next to her own on the table close by. “I love this song.”
Taking Santana’s hand, Brittany tugged her towards where the other revellers were dancing, swaying as she went. Santana’s gaze drifted to Brittany’s butt as if she had no control, her heartbeat already beginning to gear up as the music pumped and Brittany’s hand clung to her own.
Without giving Santana a chance to break away so they weren’t dancing too close, or in danger of causing a scene, Brittany turned towards Santana, taking both her hands. She shimmied and danced close to Santana, her hair swaying in the same sensual way her hips were, her eyes locked on Santana’s.
“Jesus,” Santana muttered under her breath, trying to act as nonchalant as possible.
Attempting to seem fine even though her whole body was tingling and screaming to be even closer to Brittany, to press up against her to feel her heat and the way her body undulated in time to the beat. She couldn’t keep her distance though it seemed; the alcohol and weeks of longing taking their toll. Santana felt the world melt away as Brittany’s hands suddenly found their way to her hips, holding her where she wanted her as the music swelled and the crowd around them flowed to the heavy beat.
Without thinking, just enjoying the moment, Santana turned around, pressing her back up against Brittany. She was faintly aware of people watching, some boys whistling and whooping, but she didn’t care now. All she wanted to feel was Brittany, and all she could feel was Brittany.
Their bodies moved to one another’s rhythm, but it wasn’t exactly lewd. They hadn’t gone too far. Not yet. At the moment it was just fun and nothing much more than what they’d normally do on the dance floor, but somehow it also felt different to Santana. As if Brittany was responding to the way Santana felt, without saying anything, or really even doing anything obvious.
“Want some meat in this lady-sandwich?” Puck shouted as he swayed up beside them.
Often they’d let him dance with them. He was a good friend and good to keep on side. If allowing him to perv a little now and then kept him from ignoring them then they’d retain their position in the school - hot cheerleaders that nobody dared mess with. Puck had his uses.
“No, we’re Vulcans tonight,” Brittany said, slowing down their movements so they were just swaying together a little now. “No meat.”
Santana raised an eyebrow and watched as Puck scratched at his head.
“Don’t you mean vegetari . . .” Puck began.
“She can call it what she wants,” Santana interrupted, giving him a look that dared him to question her. He didn’t.
With a grumble, Puck left them to each other, making his way over towards Rachel and Finn, his eyes roaming over Rachel in a way that Santana just knew would get him into trouble.
Once he was out of earshot Brittany leaned down and spoke into Santana’s ear.
“Sorry, I just want you to myself,” she said, giving Santana a squeeze with her hands as they rested on her hips.
Santana’s heart may have skipped a beat but she wasn’t certain. It could have just been the change in song as it powered over the speakers, making more of the party goers get to their feet. As per usual, Brittany told Santana that she loved the song, and Santana couldn’t help but smile and push back against Brittany a little more salaciously, her backside rubbing into Brittany as they danced closer together than ever before.
As David Guetta’s ‘Sexy Bitch’ span them into a trance, Brittany certainly didn’t shy away from the contact; moving her hips in a way that made Santana’s head spin and her body positively buzz with excitement. She felt the heat coming from her friend and wanted to turn around in her arms so she could look into her eyes. But she wasn’t quite ready to do that. This was somewhat safer, more usual to how they’d dance together when they wanted to put on a little show.
This was no show, however. This was just for them. Santana wasn’t sure how she knew for certain, but she didn’t think Brittany was doing this for their usual reason. And as the music and the alcohol took away most of their inhibitions, Santana allowed herself to indulge.
The song penetrated them, pulling them together, causing them to move as if they were one. The heat and energy made Santana’s head fuzzy and she ran her hands over herself, stoking a fire that had been burning for too long now. Letting the music and Brittany’s body mould her and manipulate her, she turned around and draped her arms up over Brittany’s shoulders, swaying her body into Brittany as Brittany held firmly to her hips, her hands soft but commanding. Their nipples were hard, despite the temperature, brushing against each other. It was almost painful for Santana; she desperately wanted Brittany to touch them, with her fingers, her lips, anything other than just the chafing material of her own bra.
Things were getting decidedly R rated, and the way Brittany started almost grinding against Santana made her totally forget they weren’t actually alone. She snuck her leg between Brittany’s, bringing them even closer. She could feel Brittany’s breath blowing hard and fast over her forehead and she forgot herself for a moment and nuzzled Brittany’s neck with her nose, taking in her scent, her warmth. She caught herself before she moaned, sure that - even with the thumping music - Brittany would have heard her.
The air was thick and dry and Santana licked her lips, tasting the salt of her own sweat, and inadvertently that of Brittany’s as her tongue glanced over Brittany’s skin at her neck. Somebody did moan then. It was Brittany, and she ground a little harder into Santana’s leg as she did so.
They either had to break apart before they literally started humping each other in the middle of all their friends, or get the hell out of there so they could continue this sans audience. Santana didn’t want to break the spell, however. She knew Brittany wasn’t exactly drunk, but she wasn’t totally sober either and once they parted she doubted Brittany would be as inclined to be so overtly sexual with her - which was definitely what Brittany was being, for whatever reason.
Brittany always lost herself to dancing. She was born to dance, but even though they’d played with the boundaries before, this was altogether a new experience. They were dirty-dancing, together, with seemingly not a care in the world.
“Holy hottness, ladies,” came Pucks voice close to Santana’s ear as he manoeuvred the girl he was dancing with close by them so he could say whatever lame thing he wanted to say. “Sure you don’t want a little beef between you? You’re making me crazy over here.”
Santana tried not to hear him, but his words got through the thick haze of lust she’d been blindly immersing herself in. Opening her eyes - only just realising she’d had them shut - Santana glanced around, noticing instantly that most of the boys in the room, and some of the girls, were staring at them. Some looked well and truly turned on, while others looked as if they were about to go searching for a cold bucket of water to throw over them. Rachel was seething in the corner as Finn stood drooling into his drink.
It was like a slap to the face and Santana backed away from Brittany, missing the curves and warmth of Brittany’s body instantly.
“Fuck off, Puck,” she bit, feeling lust turn to anger and shame as Brittany tried desperately to bring her closer again with her grasping hands. She turned on Brittany then, feeling her cheeks go red. “Jesus, Brit! What the fuck are you doing?”
All but pushing Brittany away, Santana glared at her.
“Just dancing with you,” Brittany replied timidly, stepping back and looking down at her feet. “I thought you liked it.”
“Hell, we all liked it,” Puck interjected with a smirk.
“Back off,” Santana warned him.
“This why you dumped me?” he asked, unperturbed. “Because you turned les?”
Santana’s hand balled up into a fist but she didn’t strike out. That would only have given her a sore hand and made Puck’s smirk even wider.
“I’m not . . .” Santana couldn’t say the word, anger boiling her blood; a mix of fear and shame. Once again she turned to Brittany to vent at her. “For fuck’s sake, Brittany. Don’t fucking do that again.”
She knew as she said the words that she was not only hurting Brittany but confusing her too; they’d both been guilty of seeking out the curves of each other’s body as they’d danced. They’d both done it, not just Brittany. Seeing the pout form on Brittany’s mouth made Santana even angrier - at herself. She felt like a coward, an awful coward.
“But I just . . .” Brittany began, but Santana needed to get away.
She was flushed with arousal and feeling stupid. She couldn’t stand to see Brittany’s pout and the hurt look in her eyes, knowing she was the cause. Without saying anymore Santana stormed off, leaving Puck grinning and Brittany completely baffled.
Walking quickly, Santana headed for the front door, pushing people out of her way when they were too stupid to move. She knew she couldn’t drive, as she’d drank more than she’d planned to, but she headed for her car anyway, planning to call a cab and wait for it there. Brittany would have to get her own ride home.
Sliding into the driver’s seat, Santana gripped the steering wheel. She banged her hand against it a few times, cursing to herself for her stupid hormones and her stupid feelings for Brittany. She wished she could just switch off how she felt, switch off what she wanted from Brittany, but she couldn’t.
Brittany had made everything even harder to ignore tonight as she’d been all over Santana; staying close, dancing with her provocatively as if she wanted something to happen. But Santana was sure Brittany was completely straight, and just liked her as a friend. It wasn’t fair that Brittany had been almost teasing her. Wasn’t fair at all.
“Fuck!” Santana cussed again, dropping her forehead to the top of the steering wheel, trying to calm her breathing as she did her best not to think about how good it had felt being that way - so close - with Brittany.
They couldn’t be that close though, not again. She couldn’t take the names people would call her, the things people would say about them.
She had to stop wanting Brittany. Stop being anywhere near her.
TBC...
.
Pairing: Santana/Brittany
Rating: NC17/M
Summary: Santana would like to blame the heat, but it's much more than that; it's all Brittany.
Spoilers: None really, but it's a first-time fic so before they started doing the nasty or telling people about it on the phone.
Disclaimer: These characters are not mine and I make no money from them.
Chapter Five
They’d been at the party for a few hours now, and Santana was definitely feeling the buzz of alcohol. She’d avoided talking to anybody from Glee for as long as possible, but Quinn had cornered her at one point and dragged her over to where they were. She hadn’t been able to get away since, forced to listen to Finn being moronic, Rachel talking about herself non-stop, and Kurt droning on and on about how difficult it was to be different.
She’d wanted to get away, but Brittany had been more than happy to be around them, so Santana had reluctantly stuck by her, drinking and scowling and wishing she was up and dancing with most of the other occupants of the party. Chang was doing his thing on the makeshift dance floor now, almost looking like he’d choreographed his own routine, even though it was just a party in his house.
“Want to dance?” Brittany asked in Santana’s ear. She was sitting close to Santana and had been all night. Closer than normal even.
Just a little earlier while Rachel was causing Santana undue stress with her desire to throttle the midget, Brittany had placed her hand softly on Santana’s lower back as she sat beside her. She wasn’t sure if she’d done it to soothe her as her blood began to boil, or if there was another reason. Though Santana’s first instinct had been to pull away, she hadn’t, enduring the touch and actually finding that it did calm her, at least a little. Rachel had been lucky to escape with nothing more than a biting remark.
Trying not to shudder just from having Brittany speak in her ear, Santana finished off her drink, looked over at the Glee geeks as they chatted amongst themselves, and nodded. Hell, what did she care what they thought? It wasn’t as if they’d be doing anything weird; dancing at a party was normal, and even Tina and Artie had spun around the place a few times to the music.
For some reason it just felt strange having them all there, however. She wasn’t sure why, but she felt awkward, nervous even. Maybe they knew her a little more than she cared for. Maybe it was because she’d been herself amongst them - her real self - more than she had been with the Cheerios or anybody else she hung out with, other than Brittany of course. She shouldn’t care if they made judgments on her, but she did.
Reluctantly, she guessed she kind of liked them. Not that she’d ever call them friends, but they were closer to her than most people.
“Come on,” Brittany encouraged, pulling the empty glass from Santana’s hand and placing it next to her own on the table close by. “I love this song.”
Taking Santana’s hand, Brittany tugged her towards where the other revellers were dancing, swaying as she went. Santana’s gaze drifted to Brittany’s butt as if she had no control, her heartbeat already beginning to gear up as the music pumped and Brittany’s hand clung to her own.
Without giving Santana a chance to break away so they weren’t dancing too close, or in danger of causing a scene, Brittany turned towards Santana, taking both her hands. She shimmied and danced close to Santana, her hair swaying in the same sensual way her hips were, her eyes locked on Santana’s.
“Jesus,” Santana muttered under her breath, trying to act as nonchalant as possible.
Attempting to seem fine even though her whole body was tingling and screaming to be even closer to Brittany, to press up against her to feel her heat and the way her body undulated in time to the beat. She couldn’t keep her distance though it seemed; the alcohol and weeks of longing taking their toll. Santana felt the world melt away as Brittany’s hands suddenly found their way to her hips, holding her where she wanted her as the music swelled and the crowd around them flowed to the heavy beat.
Without thinking, just enjoying the moment, Santana turned around, pressing her back up against Brittany. She was faintly aware of people watching, some boys whistling and whooping, but she didn’t care now. All she wanted to feel was Brittany, and all she could feel was Brittany.
Their bodies moved to one another’s rhythm, but it wasn’t exactly lewd. They hadn’t gone too far. Not yet. At the moment it was just fun and nothing much more than what they’d normally do on the dance floor, but somehow it also felt different to Santana. As if Brittany was responding to the way Santana felt, without saying anything, or really even doing anything obvious.
“Want some meat in this lady-sandwich?” Puck shouted as he swayed up beside them.
Often they’d let him dance with them. He was a good friend and good to keep on side. If allowing him to perv a little now and then kept him from ignoring them then they’d retain their position in the school - hot cheerleaders that nobody dared mess with. Puck had his uses.
“No, we’re Vulcans tonight,” Brittany said, slowing down their movements so they were just swaying together a little now. “No meat.”
Santana raised an eyebrow and watched as Puck scratched at his head.
“Don’t you mean vegetari . . .” Puck began.
“She can call it what she wants,” Santana interrupted, giving him a look that dared him to question her. He didn’t.
With a grumble, Puck left them to each other, making his way over towards Rachel and Finn, his eyes roaming over Rachel in a way that Santana just knew would get him into trouble.
Once he was out of earshot Brittany leaned down and spoke into Santana’s ear.
“Sorry, I just want you to myself,” she said, giving Santana a squeeze with her hands as they rested on her hips.
Santana’s heart may have skipped a beat but she wasn’t certain. It could have just been the change in song as it powered over the speakers, making more of the party goers get to their feet. As per usual, Brittany told Santana that she loved the song, and Santana couldn’t help but smile and push back against Brittany a little more salaciously, her backside rubbing into Brittany as they danced closer together than ever before.
As David Guetta’s ‘Sexy Bitch’ span them into a trance, Brittany certainly didn’t shy away from the contact; moving her hips in a way that made Santana’s head spin and her body positively buzz with excitement. She felt the heat coming from her friend and wanted to turn around in her arms so she could look into her eyes. But she wasn’t quite ready to do that. This was somewhat safer, more usual to how they’d dance together when they wanted to put on a little show.
This was no show, however. This was just for them. Santana wasn’t sure how she knew for certain, but she didn’t think Brittany was doing this for their usual reason. And as the music and the alcohol took away most of their inhibitions, Santana allowed herself to indulge.
The song penetrated them, pulling them together, causing them to move as if they were one. The heat and energy made Santana’s head fuzzy and she ran her hands over herself, stoking a fire that had been burning for too long now. Letting the music and Brittany’s body mould her and manipulate her, she turned around and draped her arms up over Brittany’s shoulders, swaying her body into Brittany as Brittany held firmly to her hips, her hands soft but commanding. Their nipples were hard, despite the temperature, brushing against each other. It was almost painful for Santana; she desperately wanted Brittany to touch them, with her fingers, her lips, anything other than just the chafing material of her own bra.
Things were getting decidedly R rated, and the way Brittany started almost grinding against Santana made her totally forget they weren’t actually alone. She snuck her leg between Brittany’s, bringing them even closer. She could feel Brittany’s breath blowing hard and fast over her forehead and she forgot herself for a moment and nuzzled Brittany’s neck with her nose, taking in her scent, her warmth. She caught herself before she moaned, sure that - even with the thumping music - Brittany would have heard her.
The air was thick and dry and Santana licked her lips, tasting the salt of her own sweat, and inadvertently that of Brittany’s as her tongue glanced over Brittany’s skin at her neck. Somebody did moan then. It was Brittany, and she ground a little harder into Santana’s leg as she did so.
They either had to break apart before they literally started humping each other in the middle of all their friends, or get the hell out of there so they could continue this sans audience. Santana didn’t want to break the spell, however. She knew Brittany wasn’t exactly drunk, but she wasn’t totally sober either and once they parted she doubted Brittany would be as inclined to be so overtly sexual with her - which was definitely what Brittany was being, for whatever reason.
Brittany always lost herself to dancing. She was born to dance, but even though they’d played with the boundaries before, this was altogether a new experience. They were dirty-dancing, together, with seemingly not a care in the world.
“Holy hottness, ladies,” came Pucks voice close to Santana’s ear as he manoeuvred the girl he was dancing with close by them so he could say whatever lame thing he wanted to say. “Sure you don’t want a little beef between you? You’re making me crazy over here.”
Santana tried not to hear him, but his words got through the thick haze of lust she’d been blindly immersing herself in. Opening her eyes - only just realising she’d had them shut - Santana glanced around, noticing instantly that most of the boys in the room, and some of the girls, were staring at them. Some looked well and truly turned on, while others looked as if they were about to go searching for a cold bucket of water to throw over them. Rachel was seething in the corner as Finn stood drooling into his drink.
It was like a slap to the face and Santana backed away from Brittany, missing the curves and warmth of Brittany’s body instantly.
“Fuck off, Puck,” she bit, feeling lust turn to anger and shame as Brittany tried desperately to bring her closer again with her grasping hands. She turned on Brittany then, feeling her cheeks go red. “Jesus, Brit! What the fuck are you doing?”
All but pushing Brittany away, Santana glared at her.
“Just dancing with you,” Brittany replied timidly, stepping back and looking down at her feet. “I thought you liked it.”
“Hell, we all liked it,” Puck interjected with a smirk.
“Back off,” Santana warned him.
“This why you dumped me?” he asked, unperturbed. “Because you turned les?”
Santana’s hand balled up into a fist but she didn’t strike out. That would only have given her a sore hand and made Puck’s smirk even wider.
“I’m not . . .” Santana couldn’t say the word, anger boiling her blood; a mix of fear and shame. Once again she turned to Brittany to vent at her. “For fuck’s sake, Brittany. Don’t fucking do that again.”
She knew as she said the words that she was not only hurting Brittany but confusing her too; they’d both been guilty of seeking out the curves of each other’s body as they’d danced. They’d both done it, not just Brittany. Seeing the pout form on Brittany’s mouth made Santana even angrier - at herself. She felt like a coward, an awful coward.
“But I just . . .” Brittany began, but Santana needed to get away.
She was flushed with arousal and feeling stupid. She couldn’t stand to see Brittany’s pout and the hurt look in her eyes, knowing she was the cause. Without saying anymore Santana stormed off, leaving Puck grinning and Brittany completely baffled.
Walking quickly, Santana headed for the front door, pushing people out of her way when they were too stupid to move. She knew she couldn’t drive, as she’d drank more than she’d planned to, but she headed for her car anyway, planning to call a cab and wait for it there. Brittany would have to get her own ride home.
Sliding into the driver’s seat, Santana gripped the steering wheel. She banged her hand against it a few times, cursing to herself for her stupid hormones and her stupid feelings for Brittany. She wished she could just switch off how she felt, switch off what she wanted from Brittany, but she couldn’t.
Brittany had made everything even harder to ignore tonight as she’d been all over Santana; staying close, dancing with her provocatively as if she wanted something to happen. But Santana was sure Brittany was completely straight, and just liked her as a friend. It wasn’t fair that Brittany had been almost teasing her. Wasn’t fair at all.
“Fuck!” Santana cussed again, dropping her forehead to the top of the steering wheel, trying to calm her breathing as she did her best not to think about how good it had felt being that way - so close - with Brittany.
They couldn’t be that close though, not again. She couldn’t take the names people would call her, the things people would say about them.
She had to stop wanting Brittany. Stop being anywhere near her.
TBC...
.