fic: ducky
Title: Ducky
Pairing(s): Santana/Brittany, Quinn/Kurt, one-sided Rachel/Quinn
Rating: R, for sexual situations -but with euphemisms
Summary: This comment thread. (Not altogether necessary to read the OP to understand this, though)
Spoilers: No. This takes place in crack!land.
Notes 1: Seriously, you need to read the link in the summary before you decide to read this. This is complete and utter crack. I’m sorry but I had to write it, I couldn't stop myself. And I hope for the sake of my sanity someone else finds this as amusing as I do…
Notes 2: Also, this could potentially be taken the wrong way: But, really, I’m not trying to be offensive; I have mad respect for transpeople. This is just a ridiculous story that shouldn’t be taken seriously.
It’s third period Spanish and Finn’s having trouble paying attention, as usual. So, okay, sitting in the back row probably isn’t the best choice for someone who has as much trouble paying attention as he does, but he doubts sitting in the front row would have made much of a difference.
It’s just so hard to pay attention when you have boobs to look at.
Finn looks down at his boobs and grins. Having boobs is awesome. He’s so glad he got them.
Of course, he’d been reluctant to get them when Brittany had first suggested it. Because he didn’t feel like a woman trapped in a man’s body like Brittany (Ben), Santana (Carlos), and Quinn (Quinn) had back when they were dudes. Finn just really likes boobs. Like a lot. So, yeah, when Brittany had first suggested that he get a boob job, Finn thought the idea was just kind of weird… but it didn’t take very long for him to think the idea was just kind of... the best idea ever.
Finn stares down at his boobs and smiles.
Having boobs is awesome.
………
In the same row of seats, but on the opposite side of the classroom, Santana punches Brittany’s arm to get the other Cheerio’s attention. Brittany turns to look at Santana, who scowls.
“Stop staring at Finn’s boobs,” she hisses.
Brittany’s eyes widen. “I wasn’t!” the blonde says a little too loudly.
Everyone’s eyes (except Finn’s) turn to her, and Mr. Schuester clears his throat. “Brittany, preste atención al frente, por favor.”
Brittany nods, confused, because Spanish is confusing and she wishes Mr. Schue would stop speaking it so much. “Uh… okay,” she says to her teacher. She tries to pay attention to class after that because she figures she probably should, but after a few minutes her eyes drift back to Finn because his boobs are a lot more interesting than verb tenses.
Then Santana punches her again, and the Latina is staring at Brittany’s lap for some reason when Brittany turns to look at her this time.
“Oh my god, you did not just get a boner from staring at Finn’s boobs,” Santana hisses, looking up to narrow her eyes at Brittany.
Brittany eyes shoot down to her lap, and yeah -there’s an unmistakable tenting of her Cheerios skirt. She looks back up at Santana, panicked. “Uh… no. I totally didn’t.”
Brittany didn’t think it was possible, but Santana narrows her eyes even more. “You totally did.”
“I didn’t! I swear!”
Santana rolls her eyes. She looks super-mad, so Brittany shifts her gaze to the front of the classroom, determined to pay attention and not stare at Finn’s boobs. Because Brittany doesn’t want to make Santana any madder (because Brittany’s not sure she wants to find out what level of angry comes after super-mad).
But then she feels Santana cupping Ducky (Brittany likes naming things) and Brittany’s eyes are still fixed on the board, but she’s so not paying attention to verb tenses anymore. Because it’s kind of hard to concentrate with Santana’s hand on her... Ducky… Brittany is right about to inform Santana of this fact, but then Santana starts stroking Ducky, and Brittany loses the ability to form words.
Brittany has to bite down on her lip to keep herself from moaning after that. Because Santana is good at a lot of things, like Spanish, and cheerleading, and being awesome -but if there’s one thing she’s best at, Brittany’s pretty sure it’s playing with Ducky.
It doesn’t take long before Brittany doesn’t think biting her lip will help suppress the moan building up inside her, so (because she doesn’t want the entire class knowing that she’s getting a hand job) Brittany hurriedly grabs her notebook and writes Santana a note.
Can we finish this in like the bathroom? Brittany scribbles.
Santana reads the note, and the smile she gives Brittany is kind of… well, pure evil. Santana leans in, and the feeling of her breath on Brittany’s ear makes Brittany shiver. “Who says we’re finishing this?” Santana whispers.
And after that, she stops playing with Ducky.
Brittany shifts her gaze from Santana, to her lap, then back to Santana. “But-“
“But nothing. You were staring at Finn’s boobs.”
Brittany pouts. The blonde squirms a little in her seat, and then trails a hand down to her lap because, since Santana’s being mean and all, she figures she’ll just have to take care of Ducky herself.
But Santana stills Brittany’s hand, and puts it back on top of her desk. “No,” Santana crosses her arms over her chest (which Brittany unfortunately knows means her decision is final). “You were staring. Consider this your punishment.”
A very unhappy Brittany (and an even unhappier Ducky) spends the rest of the period trying to remember what Rachel taught her during her Government tutoring session that Monday. Brittany knows Rachel mentioned something about “cruel and unusual punishment” at some point…
………
Brittany searches for Rachel after she leaves third period. (The blonde has to subtly hold her books over her lap as she walks down the hall because Ducky still hasn’t given up.) The diva is at hir locker when Brittany finds hir, and the blonde taps hir on the shoulder.
“Oh, hi, Brittany,” Rachel smiles -sie looks kind of relieved for some reason…
“Hey, Rachel.” Brittany shifts uncomfortably from one foot to the other. “I was just wondering…”
Brittany trails off, about to ask Rachel what the rule about “cruel and unusual punishment” is again, but suddenly Brittany feels… thirsty. Like crazy thirsty. Like… wilty thirsty. “Oh my god! I forgot to water Seymour!” Brittany exclaims before running off, question completely forgotten.
Rachel raises an eyebrow, but then just shrugs and turns back to hir locker. “At least I haven’t run into-“
“Manhands!” a voice that most definitely belongs to Quinn growls. Rachel cringes. Perfect.
“Um… yes, Quinn?” Rachel doesn’t turn away from hir locker to look at the angry blonde, but Quinn quickly fixes that.
Quinn grabs Rachel’s shoulder and roughly turns the diva towards her. Quinn’s eyes are narrowed and her voice is low and angry when she speaks. “You told Puck and Finn that I wasn’t pregnant.”
Rachel is intimidated by the scowl Quinn has aimed at hir, but that doesn't stop hir from going into discussion mode. “Well, you aren’t pregnant. You can’t be. I mean, first off, as a transsexual man, Puck definitely can't be the father. Plus, you are a pre-op transsexual female. So, it’s physiologically impossible for you to carry a-“
Quinn shoves Rachel up against the lockers. She growls, her face mere inches away from Rachel’s and her body pressed up against the brunette’s. Rachel like… shudders in reaction, and Quinn thinks it’s totally creepy and gross. Of course, pressed against Rachel, she can also feel Rachel’s... things squirming around under hir shirt and that’s just… ew (there are no words to describe it).
Quinn has to take a slight step away (because EW) before she speaks. “Listen,” Quinn’s eyes shift down Rachel’s body and then back up, “listen, Octopus, you need to stay out of my business, got it?”
Rachel nods (it’s all sie’s capable of doing with Quinn so close to hir), and Quinn let’s hir go.
“Good,” Quinn says firmly, before heading to her fourth period class.
Rachel sighs as sie watches the blonde walk away. Sie wishes Quinn would just own up to the sexual tension going on between them. Sie just knows the blonde must want hir just as much as sie wants her. What else could explain the (eerily accurate) pornographic pictures Quinn drew of Rachel on the walls of the girl’s bathroom?
………
Kurt waits in a secluded corner of the art hallway before lunch. He still feels a bit queasy, and kind of wants to find and kill the bitch that gave “morning sickness” it’s name -because “all day vomiting” is a much more accurate description. He feels himself starting to gag again and he places one hand over his mouth and the other on his developing baby bump, wishing Quinn would hurry up and get there already because he seriously needs to get to a bathroom.
A moment after the thought enters his mind, Kurt feels a familiar pair of arms wrap around him from behind. Kurt smiles (despite his nausea) and turns in the embrace.
“Quinn.” Kurt moves his hands to the back of his baby daddy's neck and pulls her in for a kiss.
The blonde is grinning when they break apart. “How are my two favorite boys doing?” she asks, moving one hand to rest on Kurt’s baby bump.
The smile stays on Kurt’s face, but he glances around nervously and takes a not-so-subtle step away. Quinn rolls her eyes, trying not to let her irritation make her say anything rash -she knows how emotional the pregnancy has made Kurt. “Baby, we picked this spot specifically because no one ever comes here.”
“Yes, well,” Kurt does one of his signature hair flips, “I just don’t want anybody to find out…” he trails off.
Quinn frowns, half-angry… and half-hurt. She hates the feeling -the feeling that Kurt is ashamed of their relationship. “They’re going to find out eventually, hun. Berry explained to Puck and Finn exactly how and why I can’t actually be pregnant.”
Kurt’s eyes widen, although he knew this was inevitable. In fact, if he’s honest with himself, he’s surprised their little plan worked as long as it did: Quinn faking a pregnancy to distract people from his very (unfortunately) real pregnancy. (God, people from Lima are stupid.)
“Hey, are you going to be okay?” Quinn asks, stroking Kurt’s cheek when he doesn’t say anything for a minute.
“Yeah, I’m fine, sweetie,” Kurt manages to say, sealing the words with a kiss, even though the statement is a total lie. Because he’s not okay. He’s gay, damn it. He was a lesbian before he started transitioning, and now he’s a gay man. Kurt Hummel is gay. Kurt Hummel not straight. Hell no.
Kurt Hummel is not okay with not being gay.
Pairing(s): Santana/Brittany, Quinn/Kurt, one-sided Rachel/Quinn
Rating: R, for sexual situations -but with euphemisms
Summary: This comment thread. (Not altogether necessary to read the OP to understand this, though)
Spoilers: No. This takes place in crack!land.
Notes 1: Seriously, you need to read the link in the summary before you decide to read this. This is complete and utter crack. I’m sorry but I had to write it, I couldn't stop myself. And I hope for the sake of my sanity someone else finds this as amusing as I do…
Notes 2: Also, this could potentially be taken the wrong way: But, really, I’m not trying to be offensive; I have mad respect for transpeople. This is just a ridiculous story that shouldn’t be taken seriously.
It’s third period Spanish and Finn’s having trouble paying attention, as usual. So, okay, sitting in the back row probably isn’t the best choice for someone who has as much trouble paying attention as he does, but he doubts sitting in the front row would have made much of a difference.
It’s just so hard to pay attention when you have boobs to look at.
Finn looks down at his boobs and grins. Having boobs is awesome. He’s so glad he got them.
Of course, he’d been reluctant to get them when Brittany had first suggested it. Because he didn’t feel like a woman trapped in a man’s body like Brittany (Ben), Santana (Carlos), and Quinn (Quinn) had back when they were dudes. Finn just really likes boobs. Like a lot. So, yeah, when Brittany had first suggested that he get a boob job, Finn thought the idea was just kind of weird… but it didn’t take very long for him to think the idea was just kind of... the best idea ever.
Finn stares down at his boobs and smiles.
Having boobs is awesome.
………
In the same row of seats, but on the opposite side of the classroom, Santana punches Brittany’s arm to get the other Cheerio’s attention. Brittany turns to look at Santana, who scowls.
“Stop staring at Finn’s boobs,” she hisses.
Brittany’s eyes widen. “I wasn’t!” the blonde says a little too loudly.
Everyone’s eyes (except Finn’s) turn to her, and Mr. Schuester clears his throat. “Brittany, preste atención al frente, por favor.”
Brittany nods, confused, because Spanish is confusing and she wishes Mr. Schue would stop speaking it so much. “Uh… okay,” she says to her teacher. She tries to pay attention to class after that because she figures she probably should, but after a few minutes her eyes drift back to Finn because his boobs are a lot more interesting than verb tenses.
Then Santana punches her again, and the Latina is staring at Brittany’s lap for some reason when Brittany turns to look at her this time.
“Oh my god, you did not just get a boner from staring at Finn’s boobs,” Santana hisses, looking up to narrow her eyes at Brittany.
Brittany eyes shoot down to her lap, and yeah -there’s an unmistakable tenting of her Cheerios skirt. She looks back up at Santana, panicked. “Uh… no. I totally didn’t.”
Brittany didn’t think it was possible, but Santana narrows her eyes even more. “You totally did.”
“I didn’t! I swear!”
Santana rolls her eyes. She looks super-mad, so Brittany shifts her gaze to the front of the classroom, determined to pay attention and not stare at Finn’s boobs. Because Brittany doesn’t want to make Santana any madder (because Brittany’s not sure she wants to find out what level of angry comes after super-mad).
But then she feels Santana cupping Ducky (Brittany likes naming things) and Brittany’s eyes are still fixed on the board, but she’s so not paying attention to verb tenses anymore. Because it’s kind of hard to concentrate with Santana’s hand on her... Ducky… Brittany is right about to inform Santana of this fact, but then Santana starts stroking Ducky, and Brittany loses the ability to form words.
Brittany has to bite down on her lip to keep herself from moaning after that. Because Santana is good at a lot of things, like Spanish, and cheerleading, and being awesome -but if there’s one thing she’s best at, Brittany’s pretty sure it’s playing with Ducky.
It doesn’t take long before Brittany doesn’t think biting her lip will help suppress the moan building up inside her, so (because she doesn’t want the entire class knowing that she’s getting a hand job) Brittany hurriedly grabs her notebook and writes Santana a note.
Can we finish this in like the bathroom? Brittany scribbles.
Santana reads the note, and the smile she gives Brittany is kind of… well, pure evil. Santana leans in, and the feeling of her breath on Brittany’s ear makes Brittany shiver. “Who says we’re finishing this?” Santana whispers.
And after that, she stops playing with Ducky.
Brittany shifts her gaze from Santana, to her lap, then back to Santana. “But-“
“But nothing. You were staring at Finn’s boobs.”
Brittany pouts. The blonde squirms a little in her seat, and then trails a hand down to her lap because, since Santana’s being mean and all, she figures she’ll just have to take care of Ducky herself.
But Santana stills Brittany’s hand, and puts it back on top of her desk. “No,” Santana crosses her arms over her chest (which Brittany unfortunately knows means her decision is final). “You were staring. Consider this your punishment.”
A very unhappy Brittany (and an even unhappier Ducky) spends the rest of the period trying to remember what Rachel taught her during her Government tutoring session that Monday. Brittany knows Rachel mentioned something about “cruel and unusual punishment” at some point…
………
Brittany searches for Rachel after she leaves third period. (The blonde has to subtly hold her books over her lap as she walks down the hall because Ducky still hasn’t given up.) The diva is at hir locker when Brittany finds hir, and the blonde taps hir on the shoulder.
“Oh, hi, Brittany,” Rachel smiles -sie looks kind of relieved for some reason…
“Hey, Rachel.” Brittany shifts uncomfortably from one foot to the other. “I was just wondering…”
Brittany trails off, about to ask Rachel what the rule about “cruel and unusual punishment” is again, but suddenly Brittany feels… thirsty. Like crazy thirsty. Like… wilty thirsty. “Oh my god! I forgot to water Seymour!” Brittany exclaims before running off, question completely forgotten.
Rachel raises an eyebrow, but then just shrugs and turns back to hir locker. “At least I haven’t run into-“
“Manhands!” a voice that most definitely belongs to Quinn growls. Rachel cringes. Perfect.
“Um… yes, Quinn?” Rachel doesn’t turn away from hir locker to look at the angry blonde, but Quinn quickly fixes that.
Quinn grabs Rachel’s shoulder and roughly turns the diva towards her. Quinn’s eyes are narrowed and her voice is low and angry when she speaks. “You told Puck and Finn that I wasn’t pregnant.”
Rachel is intimidated by the scowl Quinn has aimed at hir, but that doesn't stop hir from going into discussion mode. “Well, you aren’t pregnant. You can’t be. I mean, first off, as a transsexual man, Puck definitely can't be the father. Plus, you are a pre-op transsexual female. So, it’s physiologically impossible for you to carry a-“
Quinn shoves Rachel up against the lockers. She growls, her face mere inches away from Rachel’s and her body pressed up against the brunette’s. Rachel like… shudders in reaction, and Quinn thinks it’s totally creepy and gross. Of course, pressed against Rachel, she can also feel Rachel’s... things squirming around under hir shirt and that’s just… ew (there are no words to describe it).
Quinn has to take a slight step away (because EW) before she speaks. “Listen,” Quinn’s eyes shift down Rachel’s body and then back up, “listen, Octopus, you need to stay out of my business, got it?”
Rachel nods (it’s all sie’s capable of doing with Quinn so close to hir), and Quinn let’s hir go.
“Good,” Quinn says firmly, before heading to her fourth period class.
Rachel sighs as sie watches the blonde walk away. Sie wishes Quinn would just own up to the sexual tension going on between them. Sie just knows the blonde must want hir just as much as sie wants her. What else could explain the (eerily accurate) pornographic pictures Quinn drew of Rachel on the walls of the girl’s bathroom?
………
Kurt waits in a secluded corner of the art hallway before lunch. He still feels a bit queasy, and kind of wants to find and kill the bitch that gave “morning sickness” it’s name -because “all day vomiting” is a much more accurate description. He feels himself starting to gag again and he places one hand over his mouth and the other on his developing baby bump, wishing Quinn would hurry up and get there already because he seriously needs to get to a bathroom.
A moment after the thought enters his mind, Kurt feels a familiar pair of arms wrap around him from behind. Kurt smiles (despite his nausea) and turns in the embrace.
“Quinn.” Kurt moves his hands to the back of his baby daddy's neck and pulls her in for a kiss.
The blonde is grinning when they break apart. “How are my two favorite boys doing?” she asks, moving one hand to rest on Kurt’s baby bump.
The smile stays on Kurt’s face, but he glances around nervously and takes a not-so-subtle step away. Quinn rolls her eyes, trying not to let her irritation make her say anything rash -she knows how emotional the pregnancy has made Kurt. “Baby, we picked this spot specifically because no one ever comes here.”
“Yes, well,” Kurt does one of his signature hair flips, “I just don’t want anybody to find out…” he trails off.
Quinn frowns, half-angry… and half-hurt. She hates the feeling -the feeling that Kurt is ashamed of their relationship. “They’re going to find out eventually, hun. Berry explained to Puck and Finn exactly how and why I can’t actually be pregnant.”
Kurt’s eyes widen, although he knew this was inevitable. In fact, if he’s honest with himself, he’s surprised their little plan worked as long as it did: Quinn faking a pregnancy to distract people from his very (unfortunately) real pregnancy. (God, people from Lima are stupid.)
“Hey, are you going to be okay?” Quinn asks, stroking Kurt’s cheek when he doesn’t say anything for a minute.
“Yeah, I’m fine, sweetie,” Kurt manages to say, sealing the words with a kiss, even though the statement is a total lie. Because he’s not okay. He’s gay, damn it. He was a lesbian before he started transitioning, and now he’s a gay man. Kurt Hummel is gay. Kurt Hummel not straight. Hell no.
Kurt Hummel is not okay with not being gay.