Title: Bragging Rights
Summary: "Think of the pride, the bragging rights. You getting a girl before me, the Puckster," he tried convincingly, his voice almost a hiss, "you would be a legend. Especially if you managed to lez it up with the straightest girl in this joint." Femslash. Quinn/Santana.
A/N: I have never written these two before; nor do I know where his story is going/will end up, and nor do I know if people would actually want to read a story about these two. I guess we'll find out. Thanks for reading :)
Puck was leaning back lazily into the uncomfortable plastic chair, Santana in much the same position next to him. She was focused on her nails, picking at them aimlessly and cleaning them in the process.
"I could so do her again," Puck said absently, causing Santana to peer up from her hands. He was staring straight ahead, and when the Latina followed his gaze, her eyes fell onto a group of the Glee kids all laughing and joking around the piano.
"Who?" she asked curiously, only really half interested as she continued to fidget with her already immaculate nails.
A smug smile began to hint on Puck's face. "Quinn," he said simply.
Santana glanced at the girl, stood next to Brittany and Tina and laughing hysterically. She scoffed.
"What?" Puck asked, tearing his eyes away from the scene and glaring at the girl beside him, eyebrows furrowed.
She shrugged, "I dunno. Last time she let you pass through all the bases, she ended up playing home to a kid for nine months."
"So," Puck defended, "if anything, that brought us closer. I could totally get her to go there again"
"You totally could not," Santana bit back mockingly, chuckling lightly at herself.
He sat up a little straighter, face showing offence and a sprinkling of anger. "What are you saying?" he demanded, turning a little to face her completely.
"I'm saying that I have a better chance at getting into her pants, Puck," she stated simply, dropping her hands to her lap and feigning sympathy, "and she's a prudish, god fearing, blonde haired cheerleader."
He stared at her for a moment before breaking into a overly enthusiastic laugh. "You wish, Santana," was all he said, causing the girl to arc a questioning brow.
"I can assure you, I don't."
He shook his head, releasing the angry tension that had suddenly built in his shoulders and turning back to the group. "Are you game for letting me win some of your hard earned money, Lopez?" he asked after a few seconds, Santana still looking at him questioningly.
"Tell me more."
He turned to her again, "Quinn," he began, "I get into her pants, you give me twenty bucks. You get into them before me? I give you twenty bucks."
Santana's face crumpled, her mouth dropping open in what could only be described as complete disgust. "I do not want into Fabray's pants. Not even if you're paying!" she exclaimed, still managing to keep her voice quiet enough not to be heard.
"Make it fifty?" Puck laughed, watching the Latina with an amused grin.
Santana's face ironed out a little, a thoughtfulness in her eyes. "Fifty bucks for sex...I feel like a hooker."
"Think of the pride, the bragging rights. You getting a girl before me, the Puckster," he tried convincingly, his voice almost a hiss, "you would be a legend. Especially if you managed to lez it up with the straightest girl in this joint."
She sighed, throwing her head back dramatically. "Why does my life have to be so boring right now that this actually sounds appealing?"
He almost cheered in victory, managing to maintain his cool exterior and simply grinning happily. "We have one week," he explained, "if neither of us get her, then we forget the whole thing."
She glanced at him through a half-open eye. "One week?" she asked disapprovingly, "one fucking week to make her not only consider doing a girl, but prevent you from getting your filthy paws on her again? You have a head start, it's not fair."
"Stop being a whiny bitch," he laughed, "you managed to get Brittany into bed quickly enough."
She paused; a small, smug smile finding it's way onto her face.
"You up for the challenge?"
She sighed, sitting up straight again and taking the hand that he offered to her, shaking it. "This is ridiculous."
"Nothing wrong with a little motivation," Puck reassured as he pulled his hand away and slouched back into his chair, arms folding, "keeps things interesting."
Santana laughed, her own eyes falling onto the now singing gang that stood around the black piano. She had to admit, Quinn wasn't ugly, so it wouldn't exactly be torture. What would be torture, however, was trying to get her to even consider the possibility of sleeping with Santana. She would probably be impaled by a bible as the blonde tried to defend herself; and even if she wasn't, that weird Jesus picture thing Quinn has in her room? Total turn off.
She got to her feet swiftly, spinning as she walked backwards while still managing to face Puck. "Time for me to even out the playing field," she smirked, backing away from the chuckling boy. She walked over to the group, to the opposite side of the instrument, and pushed her way in next to Quinn. The blonde looked confused as she continued to sing, her brows knitting even further when Santana simply smiled at her and allowed herself to join them in their harmony.
The Latina knew she had a kick-ass voice. It was way better than Puck's, anyway.
Point one for Santana.