Friendship Meme: Blaine & Brittany
Blaine and Brittany dance an awful lot. This is, of course, to be expected. At first he dances on furniture a lot, out of her grasp and leaping from place to place as though the floor is made of lava. She tries to tell him that the rug is made of 100% cotton-poly blend and that the nearest volcano is Mole Hill in Virginia so he doesn’t have to worry, but he doesn’t seem to get it.
He does try to though, his face all scrunchy and yearning like Lord Tubbington when they’re trying to wean him off his cigarettes. So she can forgive him for being so very trying so sometimes. He doesn’t try to be trying. He tries not to be. Words are confusing. Brittany’s tempted sometimes, to go back to not talking and just meowing at people.
She works at him though, slow and steady wins the race she knows that (even though that doesn’t make sense until Santana explains that the turtle cheated, and then it makes so much sense.) And she pulls him into her orbit for a few seconds more each time until they’re dancing cheek to cheek. Sam’s awesome, and his mouth is amazing at doing all kinds of fun stuff (like accents. And sex. His mouth is really good at that) but he’s not a very good dancer. Blaine is. She likes dancing with him, and feeling his little hobbit pulse jump when she nuzzles into the scruff of his neck. She’s usually close enough that she can feel the way his chest shakes, and she recognizes that feeling from when she hugged Santana after her abuela kicked her out.
She holds him close and dances in a whirlwind around him so nothing else can touch him. As long as her ponytail is spinning in a circle around them both her blonde magic can protect him. She’d spin around him all the time, but that’d make her dizzy. Plus Blaine’s getting better about dancing with her. Maybe he’s got a little blonde in him too.
And he holds her too, when she misses Santana. She knows she’s not supposed to, not when Santana is happy in New York and she’s happy with Sam and Sam is happy with her. She knows all that happiness shouldn’t leave room for unhappiness; it’s like, science or something. There should only be so much room inside her.
But sometimes she still misses Santana, even though they’re best friends again and everything should be awesome like it used to be. And Blaine notices, and Blaine paints her nails and brushes her hair so she has other feelings to focus on. He even uses extra shiny laquer so she can press the pads of her fingers to that slippery smoothness. It’s one of her favorite feelings.
So when they’re together sometimes they dance, and sometimes they paint nails, and sometimes they practice make up on each other because Blaine has really pretty eyes and Brittany’s just super hot. And sometimes Blaine helps her with her homework and then she helps teach him new ways to stretch so that he’ll be able to win Kurt back with all the sexy moves she knows. And sometimes they just cuddle, because words are hard and weird and bodies are easier. She likes the way his legs are all smooth, and he likes the way her boobs are like pillows.
They’re aren’t obvious or crazy in their love for each other. They don’t plan insane take overs and mask-based plots like Blaine and Sam do. And Brittany doesn’t have to search Blaine’s fat folds for crack the way she does with Lord Tubbington. But it’s easy and fun and nice, and they’re both happy to have someone they can just be quiet around.