Chapter 5 : Boy Sex

"I can't do this." I blurted and clutched my handbag to my chest. After a swift turn on my heel, I began marching back towards the car. As soon as I stepped off the walkway my heels stuck into the grass. Each step felt as if I were trying to pull a particularly stubborn dart from a dartboard. It took all the strength in my legs to keep myself from rolling an ankle, or worse, breaking a heel. But not even this uneven, soft, front lawn and the potential of ruining a brand new pair of heels was going to slow me down. I could easily get back on the Internet, visit neimenmarcus for a second time and use my dad's credit card to get the same exact pair of Louboutin heels.

"Santana wait," Brittany was quick to follow. She locked into hurried a pace behind me. From the concentrated and stiff huffs of air that I kept hearing, she was having a little more trouble speeding through the grass in her heels.

I didn't wait, because I didn't want to be here. Why did I agree to this in the first place? Sure this is Quinn's house, and Quinn obviously already knows, but nobody else does. I haven't talked to anyone besides Brittany for the past two weeks. I've locked myself inside my bedroom, ignored invites to keggers, ignored Puckerman's insistent pleas to meet up with him, and I even ignored Quinn when she invited me over to this stupid cocktail mixer.

But when Brittany showed up at my house with an adorably excited jump in her step, and a speech about how fun this would be, I couldn't say no. We get a chance to hang out with adults and our friends at the same time. And, we get to dress up. Its like homecoming, except we don't dance and we act like British butlers that are taking their break. Her words for us getting an opportunity to act sophisticated.

This morning I'd made up my mind. I wasn't going to go. There was no way I was ready to show off my new assets. The entire day I had neglected to open my closet and put on my dress, I had neglected to open the box of heels I'd gotten in the mail the day before, and I had neglected to text Quinn back and confirm that I was or wasn't going to attend.

Then Brittany showed up.

It's not as if she looked extraordinarily or unusually sexy. Maybe. She rang the doorbell. After a hesitant sigh, and a few seconds of contemplating whether I could make it to the shower before she ended up just coming in, I answered the door. And there she was. She was standing on my porch all dolled up in a white cocktail dress, with a black fabric belt that I knew for a fact didn't come with the dress. She added it. She always added little things that make simple become unique. There wasn't anything particularly sexy about the dress. Maybe. She could have easily picked a dress that rode a little higher on her legs and showed off every perfect inch of her legs. She has dozens of them in her closet. But she didn't. The dress hung down to her knees. And even though it was strapless, it's not as if it showcased her cleavage or anything like that. Maybe.

The smile on her face when I opened the door was heartbreakingly adorable. Her lips were pinched tight and the lifted corners of her mouth were pushing her cheekbones so high up on her face that the piercing sapphire of her eyes was almost hidden. Almost.

She looked like the same eight-year-old girl that always made me come over to her house for Halloween so we could get ready in her room and then show off our outfits to her parents. There's no way I could send her home, there was no way I could not let her show off her dress to everyone. White wouldn't have been my choice of color for her, since Brittany wasn't exactly the luckiest person when it comes to not getting stuff on herself, but everything about her was perfectly perfect. She's the only person that could change my mind so easily and so quickly about something I was dead set on saying no to.

"Santana slow down, my heels are leaving gopher holes in Quinn's yard." She called toward me when I started to pull away.

I stopped. This wasn't her fault. This was my fault. I did this to my body, and now I'm the one who's scared to admit that to everyone.

I turned and faced Brittany. She had slowed her pace, but was still walking towards me. "I can't go in their Britt. I shouldn't have worn this dress. I should have worn a Burqa." I turned and looked back at my car. It was only a few feet away. I could so easily take those remaining steps, get in, and drive away. "Or a poncho."

"But I thought you liked your dress." Brittany tried to hide her pout, but I could still see the faint jut of her lower lip. "I like your dress." Her eyes dipped down my entire body and then returned to my face. "It's pretty."

"No…" I threw my hands up in defeat. "It screams, boobs." I used my fingers to quote the last word.

"I like your boobs." Brittany stated matter-of-factly. "They're pretty."

Her comment stopped me from continuing. I didn't know how to respond. And without intending to, a small laugh escaped my lips.

I glanced down at my outfit. Unlike Brittany, I went for the whole stripper-cocktail dress thing. Plunging neckline, skin tight, black.

Brittany's shrug pulled my attention back to her. "Everyone else is gonna like it too."

"I'm so sure Rachel Berry is going to love my new boobs." I rolled my eyes. "And Mr. Shue." I laughed.

"Mr. Shue is going to be distracted by Ms. Pillsbury to even notice." She narrowed her eyes and held her breath before speaking again. "Not that he won't notice. He will. He'll totally be like, whoa hot Santana. I'm so glad I teach her. Wait no, don't look." Brittany lowered the tone of her voice to mock him and covered her eyes when she said don't look. "Then he'll go back to Ms. Pillsbury. One time I saw him singing about thongs when she was wearing this giant wedding dress. He thinks he's the cat's pajamas."

"Cat's pajamas?" I giggled and tilted my head with interest.

"Yeah. Totally. I mean, he's an all right singer, but your voice is all husky and sexy-sultry and stuff. You're like a husky pulling medicine through Alaska. He's like a Labradoodle cause his hair's curly." She shrugged.

I could almost feel the brightness of my smile burning my face. Or maybe that was a blush. "Thanks Britt. But my voice has nothing to do with my noticeably larger boobs."

"If it helps I'll slap people and yell boobs when they notice." She smiled, but kept her voice serious.

"That would help." I pinched my lips and nodded my head along with her sarcasm. Hopefully that was sarcasm. Then again, I wouldn't mind if she did that to man-hands. The momentary mortification of the glee clubbers staring at my boobs would totally be worth it.

"Okay. So let's go inside." She reached toward me and grabbed my wrist. "Just be Santana. Everyone will love you."

I turned and glanced back at my car, while she started to swing my arm back and forth between us. I took a deep breath. I was going to have to show them sooner or later. I couldn't hide like a hermit forever. And if I had to be completely honest, this was the hardest part. Showing them. I couldn't care less what everyone else thought, because everyone else wouldn't see me dancing, laughing, giggling, and singing in some ridiculous club.

"Okay." I nodded.

She kept my wrist tightly in her hand and started pulling me back towards the front door. We moved slower this time.

One step up. Another. One more.

I checked my heels. No grass stains, thank God.

I pulled my hand out of her wrist and started to flatten out my already flat dress. It's not like skin tight fabric can wrinkle…Regardless; I pinched the fabric and attempted to adjust spots.

Brittany knocked three times on the door.

While we waited, I stood petrified. The blush that had just so recently crawled across my skin, had completely drained. I felt like a ghost. Pale, drained, and see-through. I'm so stupid. It'd already taken awhile to adjust and somewhat accept the fact that I had enhanced my bust size, but these people weren't as accepting as Brittany. She was like the most un-jaded and sincere person I know.

She turned towards me. "Santana." She whispered my name. "Santana?" She said a little louder when I kept my eyes glued to the door handle.

I turned to her after she said my name for a third time.

"Remember what I said. I don't think you needed more boobs, but if it's something you wanted then it's okay. They look fine. You look fine."

"I can't." I shook my head and took a small step back.

She grabbed my wrist again. "Santana." She paused. "Think of it as something that helps people see your beauty in a new way." I froze. "You're a beautiful person on the inside, so think of it as a magnifying glass. Your boobs are like coke-bottle glasses, making your heart look way bigger, like the kids eyeballs from Christmas story."

"Britt." I sighed. Only she would think that. "Boobs are something I got because I didn't feel confident and beautiful." Those words shook my chest as I admitted them. It took every ounce of strength I had not to accompany that admission with tears.

Were we really having this conversation for the first time in front of Quinn's house, when someone could open the door any second.

"So." She shrugged. "Change your reasoning. I change my mind all the time. It's never too late to change something."

"I can't just change my mind Britt." My body sank into itself.

"Fine." She glanced back down at my chest. "I'll change it for you." She held still for a second and narrowed her eyes. "It's changed. And it's too late, because you can't reverse it." She looked back up and made eye contact. "Okay?"

I laughed again. How does she do that? Make everything so simple…

The door flung open.

"Finally." Quinn hissed. "I thought you guys weren't going to come." She stepped back. "And you're late." She shut the door once we were inside.

I looked over to the living room. A group of adults were hanging around the couches and chatting. Nobody seemed to have noticed, or cared, that we had walked in. They were all too consumed in their fancy flute glasses of champagne and the soft background classical music. Brittany was right when she said it would be like hanging out with a bunch of British butlers. They looked all bougie and were standing around the couches like they wanted to sit, but didn't want to mess up their clothing.

"Why is everyone old?" Brittany whispered as she glanced around the living room.

I followed her eye-line. Everyone was old. It reminded me of a work-party my dad had taken me to when the babysitter canceled. Except, back then I was dressed in pajamas and had to hang out in the next room over with an old deck of cards and a hundred year old dog that breathed like a freight train.

"They're my mom's friends. Church. City council. She was talking about our performance at Regionals last year and the mayor insisted that they throw a little cocktail party in our honor. Which is a bunch of crap, because nobody's even talked to me or any of the other glee guys and the mayor is drunk off his ass."

"Ha." I laughed. "This could be fun." Possibilities started flooding my mind. This is going to be way better than building a card house and then forcing that stupid dog to walk over it as if he were Godzilla.

"Don't you dare Santana." Quinn pointed a finger at me. "The last thing I need is the mayor and the upper class families of this town to look down on me. It's hard enough redeeming myself after…everything." Everything meant getting pregnant. "You will not do anything stupid."

"Oh come on Quinn." I peeked back into the living room. "I've been dying to try these new babies out," I glanced at my chest. "And what better way. Plus, I've always thought blackmail was kind of scandalous. I mean, imagine what we could get away with. We'ze be rollin' in the Benjamin's."

"He could make it so we get free Taco Bell." Brittany nudged me.

"Mmmhmm." I winked at Brittany. "Or, even better, I could rule Lima."

"Santana." Quinn warned. "I will kick you out."

I studied her. Found my answer, shrugged, and turned toward the door. "Okay. I'm peacin' out then."

"No." Quinn quickly stopped me. Of course she did. A growing smirk crawled across my face as I turned back to face her. "Just, come out back." She turned and headed through the kitchen without waiting for me to agree.

Brittany and I followed behind her. When she stopped at the kitchen counter, so did we. And when she started to search the cabinets for glasses, Brittany leaned into my ear.

"You're not really going to seduce the mayor? He's old and has raisin fingers."

I couldn't stop the gag-worthy thoughts that fogged my mind. Something about her saying raisin and fingers in the same sentence made my stomach turn, and not in a good way.

She turned her ear towards me so I could whisper back. "No way. That's nasty. As much as I'd love to rule Lima, I wouldn't."

"'Kay good." Brittany leaned back.

"Do you girls want apple juice, or sparkling cider?" Quinn turned toward us. She had had her nose far into the fridge and had been moving around bottles.

"Is that a serious question Fabray?" I was shocked. It's as if she didn't know me at all.

Quinn stood up, sped toward us, and lowered her voice. "Yes, it's a serious question. My mother's in the room over." She glanced over her shoulder to peek at the chatting adults. She turned back. "The apple juice has whiskey and peach tea, and the sparkling cider has champagne. I filled the bottles when my mom was at the grocery store this morning. There's so much alcohol in this house, that she'd never notice what I took."

"Awesome." I nodded.

"I, want, apple, juice…" Brittany said a little too robotically and a little louder than necessary.

"Cider." I lifted the corner of my mouth and exchanged a smile with Brittany after I mimicked her loud and robotic tone.

"You guys are ridiculous." Quinn rolled her eyes and headed back to the fridge. She pulled out the cider and apple juice and started to fill glasses for us.

"I like your dress." Brittany spoke into the silence of the kitchen, but over the hum of the chatting adults in the room over. "It's super nice."

I glanced over Quinn's dress. A pink, summer dress. Figures. I guess it's a little dressier than usual, but still. Quinn's as predictable as-…On second thought. Quinn's not predictable at all. When it comes to clothes, yes. But when it comes to the things she does, she's like a slot machine. One second she's president of the celibacy club, and the next she's pregnant. One second her kid belongs to Finn, and the next it belongs to Puckerman. One second she chastising me for wanting to get a boob job, and the next second she's the most empathetic and understanding person. One second she's telling Brittany to come up to my room and outing me about my boobs, and the next second she's upstairs with us helping me calm down from a panic attack.

I hadn't talked to her since that night. I didn't really have much to say to her. I was still a little pissed that she had gone behind my back and told Brittany, but on the other hand I was grateful for what she had done. Her outing me was easier than me outing me…

One second I want to rip her hair out, and the next I want to hug her. She's crazy. Maybe not as crazy as me, but still…

I'm surprised that we weren't a little more awkward with each other right now, seeing as how the last time she had seen me, I'd been crying about my boobs, attempting to overdose, and clinging to Brittany like an orphaned tree monkey that had found it's mother.

Whatever. That's Quinn's and my relationship. We keep it simple.

"Here," Quinn set two cups on the counter for us. "Tell me when you want refills and I'll get them for you. My mom doesn't like my friends digging through the fridge."

Brittany picked up her cup and took a small sip. I could tell from the look on her face that Quinn had been generous with the alcohol. Maybe I should have gotten the whiskey and tea. Champagne is just that…a champagne drink.

I should have gotten drunk before this. Then maybe Brittany wouldn't have had to practically beg me to not run away. I took a healthy sip of the champagne.

"You're just afraid we're gonna steal all your booze." Brittany took another small sip.

Quinn turned around, grabbed another cup for herself, and walked back toward us. "A little. Mostly I'm afraid you'll get naked," She eyed Brittany and then turned to me. "And you'll turn into something from Jersey Shore."

"It'd be hot." Brittany sipped her drink again.

"Yeah…" Quinn knitted her eyebrows together. "I'm sure my mom would think so too." She turned back towards the room of adults. "Let's head out back. And then my mom wanted me to mingle inside for a little and say hi to her friends. So we'll come back in when our drinks get low."

"Mine's already low…" I pulled the cup from my lips and swallowed the champagne. It bubbled down my throat.

Quinn dangerously eyed me.

"What? It is." I held my cup towards her. "I promise I'll be good. And I'll drink the…apple juice, way slower."

"You better." She snatched the cup from my hand.

I mentally promised myself to slow down. It's not like I want to get wasted in front of a whole bunch of adults. As interesting as that would be, I doubt they would appreciate the slur of bitchy remarks that would undoubtedly find there way out of my lips. Besides, boob job plus alcohol screams personal problems. Quinn's mom was the type of mom who ignores her daughter, but would have no problem holding in intervention in my honor. I'd rather not be ushered to sit on those couches that the British butlers refused to sit on, and then talked down to about acting inappropriately, drinking, and showing off a bit too much cleavage.

I shook the thought from my mind. "Is it good?" I tried to peek into Brittany's cup.

"Kinda." She held the cup towards me.

I took it and sipped. The whiskey clung to the roof of my mouth and thankfully the peach tea was able to calm my taste buds and keep me from gagging. Perfect. I handed the cup back to her and clenched my teeth as I adjusted to the stronger drink.

Quinn shut the fridge and walked back towards us. When I reached for the cup, she pulled it into her chest. "You have to promise not to do something insane. I've seen you at parties. And this isn't a party. This is a gathering of my mom's friends."

"Fine, fine, fine," I reached for the cup again. She didn't pull it away this time so I grabbed it, and started to drift it into my own chest.

Instead of taking the much-needed sip I wanted, I gestured toward the back where supposedly everyone else was. "Well, are we going to go?"

Quinn spun and started towards her backyard. I followed, and Brittany followed me.

I felt a soft, warm, heat crawl up my skin the second I stepped outside. I'd forced myself not to look around and see who was out there before hand. I just wanted to plunge in. But it was either the late afternoon sun, or the thought of their eyes locked on my chest that heated my body.

That night at Brittany's reeled through my mind. I remembered her asking Quinn to shut the window when I had started sobbing. What had they heard? Did they hear me crying? Did they already know? I clutched the alcohol in my hand and lifted the cup to my lips. Again, the whiskey clung to the roof of my mouth, and the peach tea quickly helped pull it down my throat.

When I pulled the cup from my face I found Tina and Artie approaching. Artie? Really? How did he even get out here?

"Hey ladies." Tina smiled as she stood up from pushing Artie's wheelchair. "You look cute Brittany." Tina reached out and pinched the white fabric of Brittany's dress between her fingers.

Brittany twisted with her feet planted, so the bottom of her dress spun and twirled around her calves.

Tina wasn't as dressed up as us. She was wearing all black. A cute black dress, but definitely nothing like my own black dress, that's for damn sure.

She turned to me. "Wow," she eyed me and that familiar blush came back, but it was accompanied by that same ghost-like feeling. "You look wonderful Santana. Your dress is…"

"Revealing." Artie blurted. I glanced down at him to see him staring at my chest. His eyes had glazed over.

Tina nudged him. "It's gorgeous. You look very nice."

The three of them, Tina, Artie, and Brittany started a conversation, but I didn't really listen. I glanced around at everyone else. Finn and Rachel were talking to Mike. Puck was hovering by a small table of sandwiches by himself. And Kurt and Mercedes were invested in what seemed like a very intense conversation just a few feet away from us.

I lifted my drink again and took a heavy sip. And when I brought my cup down, I kept it close to my chest, and used my arms to try and shield just how revealing my dress really was.

But I could still feel Artie's eyes flitting in my direction. Poor kid, probably has never even seen real life boobies. If I didn't feel so bad for him and is virginity, I would have snapped at him the instant his eyes made contact with my chest. I almost wonder if being with a guy like him would make things easier. Well, not for my popularity that's for sure, but for everything else…He'd be so nervous to even suggest sex that I could probably get away with just making him buy me dinner at Breadstix every other night, flowers, and jewelry with his parent's money and all I'd have to give is the occasional goodnight peck on the cheek. His parents would be so thrilled that he hooked the hottest Cheerio at McKinley that they'd be dumping money into his lap. All the while I could just get my satisfaction from a certain friend who happens to be wearing a very flattering white cocktail dress this evening. He'd be in both constant awe and terror of me that he would never have the guts to confront me about my lack of affection towards him. And if he did somehow find out about Britt or get jealous, I could just make out with her in front of him or something and he'd again turn into a blubbering little puppy. If I wasn't so worried about the guaranteed plummet of my reputation, I'd do it in a heartbeat…I'd date a guy that would be beyond thrilled just to call me his girlfriend, not a guy that brags about what I did to him the other night in the boys locker room.

Or, since that plan seems a little hard and involves me potentially exerting myself and pushing Artie's wheelchair…If we're throwing reputations down the toilet…Brittany's parents give her a healthy allowance. Actually, what am I thinking? My dad's credit card is like an endless pot of gold. I would just buy her something new everyday and hang it on her locker with a note that has a heart and my name. And then in glee rehearsal I'd point out the fact that Finn never buys that midget stuff, so he's a sucky boyfriend. But I'd never buy her anything too special on regular days, because on holidays and her birthday I'd buy her something that would make her jaw drop. Like custom made unicorn gummies from that online candy store. And I know she'd go around bragging about it, ultimately making me look like a rich bad ass.

I looked back at Artie and caught him casually averting his eyes.

Where's Quinn?

I spun around and found her standing behind me. Her eyes gestured down to my chest. "Are you ready for another drink yet?" She questioned and took a final gulp from her cup.

I looked into my own cup. It was still three-quarters of the way full.

"Quinn, Quinn." A familiarly annoying voice drilled through my head. Rachel stopped right next to me. "I heard that the mayor was here."

Quinn slowly nodded. I could tell she was starting to feel the contents of her sparkling cider.

"Well, seeing as he has such a powerful influence over arts programs and impromptu performances for the community I'd love to speak with him about how we could go about getting The New Directions a chance to-"

Finn interrupted her. "Hi Santana."

I hadn't even noticed he was standing by her. My eyes narrowed as I glanced up at him. He was gawking at my chest. I could almost see the drool pooling up in the corner of his mouth.

"That's funny." Quinn softly commented and acknowledge Finn's ogling. Yup, she's drunk. She had probably been drinking since the party started.

Rachel stuttered and shifted her gaze towards me. It looked as if her eyes were going to bug out of her head.

"Uh, w-well, Santana. It's nice to see you're feeling better." She turned back to Finn. "Finn that drink?"

"Oh," He glanced up at my eyes and then back to Rachel. So caught. "Yeah, I'll be right back." He darted away and inside.

"Thanks Crazy Train." I said and took a gulp from my drink. "I'm feeling loads better." I hoped that she didn't further inquire as to what I felt better from. Though, I'm sure the answer is right in front of her face.

When I pulled the drink down from my lips, she was staring at me, confused. Her mouth was parted and it looked like she had a permanent silent gasp glued to her face.

"Ozzy Osbourne…Come on Berry I thought you were musically literate." When she closed her mouth, but didn't pull her questioning eyes away from me I took another heavy sip of my drink. "You're not gonna start eating bat heads are you?" I cringed as I tried to swallow the whiskey coated peach tea.

"Excuse me?" Rachel's eyes finally blinked. "You're not comparing me to his crazy antics are you? While I do appreciate the absurdity and spontaneity of such an artist, I find that my talent surpasses the need for gimmicks…" Her eyes flicked down to my chest as she said the word gimmicks.

"Oh really?" I huffed. "Did you just imply what I think you implied?"

"I didn't imply anything Santana." She responded.

I glanced back at Quinn, who only shrugged.

"Hey," Brittany linked her arm in mine. She glanced at Rachel, and only nodded.

"Hello Brittany. You look cute." Rachel pursed her lips.

"I know." Brittany responded. She turned and spoke to me. "Want to get some food over there," She turned her head to look at the table Puckerman was hovering around.

I knew she was trying to pull me away from Rachel and she led me away, before I answered.

"It's okay Santana." She squeezed my arm. "Rachel is just being Rachel. You look hot. Just remember what I said about magnifying boobs." She unlinked her arm with mine as we reached the table.

She picked through food and put the hors d'oeuvres on a small clear plastic plate.

"Ladies." Puckerman approached. His eyes were locked on my chest. That's better…Last time I'd seen him, he hadn't even acknowledged me lying in Brittany's yard wearing a skimpy bikini. "So Santana." His eyes examined the rest of my body, before returning to my chest. "That's what you've been up to." The way he said it, almost sounded like he knew…but whatever.

"She's been up to what?" Brittany questioned as she kept her eyes on the food.

"Maturing." He glanced up at me.

Normally I'd be all over this situation. I'd have returned an equal amount of flirt, before pulling Brittany away and ending up sending him flirtatious glances the rest of the night. But now I was frozen. This is had what I wanted right?

"Do you want chips Santana?" Brittany ignored Puck and looked at me.

"You look hot too Brittany." He finally pulled his eyes away from me and directed them all over her body. "What are you ladies doing tonight?"

"We're going to Quinn's cocktail party." Brittany pursed her lips and turned toward me with a plate of food.

"What are you doing tonight Santana?" He turned his attention back to me. "My mom's out of town. House to myself, and there's wine coolers, a new recliner, and a Barry White CD with our names written all over it."

"Santana." Kurt spoke between the three of us. "This dress is spectacular. Where did you get it?" He gestured his finger for me to spin.

His interruption was more than welcome. And I had to force myself not to shake him with gratitude.

I obliged and did a slow spin. My heels clicked on the patio as I did so.

"Saks. My dad brought it home from a business trip. Late birthday present." I shrugged. "Among other things."

I turned to Brittany. She was smiling. I turned back to Kurt who was gawking at my dress.

"Among other very hot upgrades." Puck added.

Even Kurt shook his head in annoyance. "It fits you like a glove." He looked up at me finally. His eyes reminded me of a little child in a candy store. I loved wearing expensive things around him. He always noticed and he was always visibly jealous.

"You look fabulous Kurt." Brittany tapped his elbow. "Sooo fab…" She hummed.

I didn't turn my head toward her, but I definitely shifted both eyes in her direction. Maybe alcohol wasn't such a good idea. Who was I kidding? I lifted my drink to my lips, filled my mouth, and swallowed the liquid in two gulps.

Quinn! I had almost forgotten about her.

I looked past Kurt and saw her standing on the front porch fiddling with her cup.

"If you'll excuse me ladies," Kurt looked between Brittany and me. "I'm going to go freshen up." He turned and headed toward the house.

I sighed. That wasn't so bad. He didn't even mention my boobs. Maybe I'd overreacted about what people would think and say.

"So Santana," Puck stepped closer. "You never answered me. What do you say? Let's blow this joint, pick up some smokes, and then have a quickie out in the abandoned parking lot behind the gas station. We'd be back before anybody notices you're gone."

"I'd notice." Brittany stated. I looked over at her. Her eyes were glued to mine, almost pleading for me not to leave her alone. But there was something more to it. I'd never really seen this look from her.

"Well then come along with us." Puck looked to her and then turned back to me for an answer.

"Uhm hell no." I raised an eyebrow.

He scoffed and glanced back at Brittany. "Why not? It'd be totally hot and that way Brittany wouldn't get bored."

"Uhm," I snapped and cocked my head. "I'm pretty sure she'd get bored. You're not exactly the most exciting thing I've mounted." That's true…I glanced at Brittany and started to flush a little. Hopefully this new look she was giving me wouldn't allow her to read minds, because I swear she can see straight through me. Maybe I should stop thinking about mounting her.

"Were you bored last time?" Puck turned to Brittany.

My stomach plummeted. My jaw clenched. What?

She just shrugged and pulled her eyes away from me to look at Puckerman.

Oh my fucking goodness. Tears started to sting the back of my eyes. I had to clench my jaw even tighter to keep them from falling.

"Santana's right." Brittany mumbled.

Did she just admit to this in front of me? Yes I'd heard the rumors, but I had kind of just shrugged them off. At the time I hadn't cared if they were true or not. Had it been during that bon fire? When? Hadn't I asked her though? Yes. I had asked her that night if she had gotten with him. She said no. She wouldn't lie. Right?

That night slammed into my consciousness like a freight truck. We had been standing in that stupid itchy grass and she'd just walked over from a crowd at the bonfire. I'd just gotten out of the back of some guys truck after doing God knows what with him. I remember how hard my heart had pounded when she had started walking toward me. Quinn had just given me some pretty interesting insight about her and Puckerman. I had started crying before she had even reached me. She had wrapped her arms tightly around my body into one the most reassuring hugs I'd ever received.

"Did you do stuff with Puck?" I had asked this with as little spite as I could manage. There had been no way I could have held the question back any longer.

"Stuff?" She didn't understand.

"Kiss him. Or anything." I had explained myself, but as I had done so my stomach tightened even further.

"Well sure. He kissed me. Not for long though, it was kinda boring. And he came out of nowhere." She had said nonchalantly.

I laughed a little at the memory. She had said boring back then. How fitting for this situation. But she hadn't denied the sex thing. She had admitted the kissing thing, but I had purposely left the sex question up in the air.

My heart starting frantically pounding the same way it had that night.

"Well," Puck spoke. He looked a little hurt. Good. He deserved it. Asshole. "Santana as soon as you get your shit figured out and wanna take a ride on the Puck-a-lator you let me know." He looked back to Brittany and then back to me before he left.

Shit figured out? What shit? This thing between Britt and me? No. He was too dense to catch on. Wasn't he?

Those tears that had been stinging the backs of my eyes were now begging to fall out.

"Hey don't cry Santana," Brittany whispered and turned me towards the snack table and away from everyone else. "You'll ruin your make up."

I jerked my elbow away from her. "Sorry Britt, I'll try not to care that you slept with him."

"I was drunk Santana."

She admitted it. I clenched my cup until I thought the veins in my hands were going to pop.

"I don't care." I took a small step away from her.

I knew I shouldn't care. I hadn't been dating him at the time. And for that matter, in the back of my mind I always knew that they had hooked up. Not only that, but Britt and I aren't dating. She was free to do whatever the hell she wanted. If I started getting all freaky jealous then it was just going to make things more confusing.

"It looks like you care." She stepped towards me. "I'm so sorry Santana. As soon as I realized what I was doing I told him to stop. It kind of just happened. I didn't think you cared about him that much…" She whispered the last sentence so softly that I almost didn't hear it.

"I don't care about him." My heart paused its heavy beating for a second. Oops. "I mean, I don't know. It's just…It's not really that big of a deal." I was fumbling over my words now. "I guess I already kinda knew."

"I thought we just switched guys for the night." Brittany continued to whisper.

Fuck. She knew about the back of that truck. She knew I'd done stuff with Mark, the guy she'd been kind of talking to. It had started out as me trying to pull his attention from her and to me so I didn't have to spend the entire night making sure Mark didn't try and run off with her. I hadn't meant for it to go as far as it had.

"It's fine Britt." I looked at her. A suffocating wave of guilt filled my chest. I couldn't get mad at her for what she did, when I had done the same thing to her. But it still hurt. Why? Because of these stupid feelings for her?

"I am super sorry Santana. It only happened once. And never again."

"Okay." I nodded.

I hadn't cried. That was good. But I needed to step back a little. I needed to distract myself, before I did or said something that would make me cry. "Quinn wanted me to go inside with her real quick. To talk to her mom's friends."

Brittany stuffed a small sandwich in her mouth. "Okay." She held her hand up to her mouth as she spoke. "Do you want me to come?"

I glanced back up to where Quinn was. Still standing and still fiddling with her cup. I then glanced towards Mercedes and over to Tina. "You should mingle." I nodded towards the girls.

I could see her shoulders sink. "Ahh righh." She continued to speak with her mouth full of food.

I grabbed her cup that she had set on the hors d'oeuvres table. "I'll get you a refill."

I didn't wait for her to say anything before I left. And I made sure not to storm off. I didn't want her thinking I was mad. Because I wasn't. I was far from mad at her. I just needed to calm down. I needed to give myself a few seconds to process and digest everything.

Brittany and I weren't together. We probably wouldn't ever be together. We were best friends. Changing that was terrifying. I didn't know if I could sacrifice our friendship just to give our relationship a fitting label. And I didn't want a label anyway. If people found out, I'd be horrified. I was freaking out over Puckerman telling me to figure my shit out, so there was no way I could just date her and get everything out in the open. I had had near heart attacks after someone kind of hinted about us, I'm pretty sure I'd faint if someone just knew.

"Ready for that refill." I announced as I neared for Quinn. I put my cup up to my lips and swallowed the rest of the alcohol.


Kurt dropped us off at Brittany's house. I really needed to stop bringing my car to places that had alcohol.

"I'm starving." I held the cupboard door to keep myself balanced and tried to focus on the food. But I couldn't really read anything or even process what kind of food was in there.

"I ate like forty sandwiches. I'm gonna explode." Brittany groaned from the kitchen table.

I turned to look at her. She had her forehead pressed flat against the table and her arms hung limply at her sides.

"Are you gonna get sick?" I left the cupboard open and started to walk towards her. "Let's get you to the bathroom." I put my hand on her shoulder. It was the first time I had touched her after what she had admitted about Puck. The entire night I had kind of hovered by her side, but never got any closer. And I had made sure to keep Quinn close.

"But you're hungry." She didn't move.

"It's okay. I'm not that hungry." I lied. I didn't want her puking all over her parent's table. They were sleeping and they'd either wake up, or find it in the morning. Both scenarios sounded equally bad for us.

"There's top ramen." She grumbled.

"Eh," I cringed. "I haven't been able to eat it since you told me it reminded you of Mr. Shue's hair."

"Gross Santana." Brittany groaned into the table.

"Sorry Britt." I grabbed her bicep with both of my hands. "Come on. Let's get you upstairs and into the bathroom." I had to squint my eyes to keep my vision from blurring.

She stood up with my help. We teetered through the hall and up the stairs. I didn't let go until we were in her bathroom.

A quick glance in the mirror told me that despite my intoxication, I still looked smoking hot. Maybe my eyes were a little red and my mascara was a tiny bit smudged, but who was looking at my eyes when my boobs were so very big.

I blinked away fuzziness that had started to drift through my vision.

"Let me get you out of this." I stepped behind her and started to untie the black sash belt around her waist. It slipped undone with one tug of the string. I unzipped the dress and pulled it down to her feet.

She wasn't going to get sick. I could tell. She just needed a little water. Neither of us was wasted. Just tipsy.

Bending over, I tapped her calf, "Britt step over the dress."

She listened and stepped out of the pooled dress now on her bathroom floor. I took the dress and hung it on a towel rack.

When I turned back and caught her reflection in the mirror, my breath hitched in my throat. She didn't have a bra. Duh. But I hadn't been expecting it. I coughed to clear the frogs in my throat.

I turned on the faucet and grabbed a paper cup from a drawer. "Here." I filled the cup with water and handed it to her. I made sure not to look at anything other than her face. I could feel an embarrassingly slow blush starting to creep up my neck.

The alcohol was amplifying my emotions. That had to be it. Her body looked so frickin' hot. I wanted to touch it. I needed to touch it.

My shaky hand started towards her. She was too busy drinking the water to notice. My hand cupped the side of her waist. I jumped at how warm she felt, and I jumped from the prickles that started at my fingertips and started to crawl up my arm. I even felt her stomach twitch from my touch.

I didn't look down though. I kept my eyes glued to the cup she was drinking. The corner of her lip lifted up into a subtle smirk and I began to question if she had planned this, and planned me leading her into the bathroom and helping her to undress…

She took a small breath as she pulled the now empty cup from her lips. I watched as she set it on the counter and my eyes ran over her chest on the way. Every muscle in my stomach twisted from the sight.

They were just sitting there. Perfect. I could touch them if I wanted. She'd probably let me.

"Do you want water?" Brittany asked as she flicked the water back on.

I jerked my eyes back up to her eyes and felt my blush deepen when her eyes flickered to my chest. She'd caught me. It's not like I had been sneaky though.

"No it's okay." I pulled my hand away from her waist and reached for her spare toothbrush.

I squeezed a little too much toothpaste on it and shoved it into my mouth. When I looked back at her she was putting toothpaste on her own toothbrush.

I brushed and brushed and brushed my teeth until I felt like the toothpaste was going to overfill and squeeze from my lips. My cheeks probably look like chipmunk cheeks. Any second I was betting Brittany was going to tell me so. She'd say something about storing toothpaste in my cheeks for the cold and long winter months. On second thought, maybe she wouldn't. She was still a drunk (or pretending) and she was a little topless right now. She probably had other things to think about.

In the bustle to prep my toothbrush I'd found her chest in the mirror. I couldn't seem to pull my eyes away from the reflection. I had actually given up on trying. I was banking on either her not noticing how much I was blushing or her forgetting about it by the morning.

She leaned forward and spit into the sink.

I almost choked on my toothpaste. Her chest shifted, bounced, and hung.

The speed at which I was brushing my teeth my teeth dramatically slowed. I felt as if I were moving in slow motion. My toothbrush inched across my teeth and my eyes never faltered from her chest. I couldn't stop thinking about putting my mouth against them. I wouldn't even take the time to rinse my mouth. I'd spit the toothpaste into the sink and then suck every inch of her chest, leaving little toothpaste kisses everywhere.

"Want me to massage your boobs?" Brittany asked so nonchalantly that I thought I was imagining it. She started to refill her paper cup with water.

The toothpaste in my mouth ran down my throat. I jerked forward and coughed into the sink. I spit and hacked until my throat stopped tingling and the intruding toothpaste was out of my lungs.

It wasn't until I opened my eyes and looked into the mirror that I saw Brittany behind me, rubbing my back. Did she just ask what I think she asked? Sure we'd done stuff together (way more sexual that a boob massage), but ever since that night she found out about my summer surgery we hadn't even hinted at anything sexual.

It felt different between us.

It was hard to describe that different feeling. I had a boob job and hid it from her, and the night she found out she did one of the sweetest things she had ever done. She didn't get mad. She didn't ignore me. She had just been Brittany.

I coughed again. "You want to massage my boobs?" I turned on the water and started to splash cold water on my face.

"Well you're supposed to. That's what the paper said. So your boobs don't turn into boulders and knock you out during cheer practice."

"Oh." I stood back up and grabbed a towel to wipe my face. With the cloth stuffed over my eyes I could take a second to process everything. Was the alcohol making me crazy?

"It'll be totally hot anyway." She said.

I pulled the towel from my face and watched her shrug.

So I let her.

We went back into her room. She put on an over-sized shirt and gave me a matching t-shirt and a pair of her Cheerios sweatpants. I need to stop letting her buy extra-large shirts from the men's pajama section. Even if she insisted Lord Tubbington would sleep better if she wore a shirt with a large fish that said, Bad Bass at Fishing.

I was sitting at the foot of her bed. My shirt was bunched up on my lap. Her sweats were a little too long for me. They hung below my heels and if I curled my toes, my feet weren't even visible. I crossed my ankles and looked up at Brittany.

She was staring and squinting at my post-op instructions as if she were trying to burn a hole through it. Her nose was almost touching it. She's still a little tipsy…

"Is this safe?" I asked. I needed to say something to break the silence. I was getting antsy.

She looked over to me. "Totally safe. I even called this hotline number earlier and asked if they were absolutely positive about boob massaging. They said nothing bad could happen."

I nodded. "Wait…You called them?"

She called them…Hmm…

"Well yeah. I asked them if your nipples would pop off." She looked at me as if that were the most obvious question she could have asked, before returning her attention back to the paper in her hands.

Before I could stop it, a huge smile consumed my face. One of those smiles I got when Brittany bought me bubble gum Pop Rocks when I had had braces, because they were Pop Rocks not gum and therefore I could eat them. Or one of those smiles I got when everyone was dancing and singing during glee rehearsal.

I wasn't sure how long I'd been smiling, but I didn't waver until Brittany stepped in front of me. "What's so funny?" She leaned down and slapped my knee. "Dork."

My smile softened when I looked up at her. "Just had a good day."

Well, maybe that was an over-exaggeration. I hadn't exactly had a good day…but it was ending good after all things were considered. I finally had showed everyone else my boobs and nobody had said anything too judgmental. The rest of this was going to be cake. Brittany even admitted to the whole Puck thing.

My smile drained. I'd forgotten about that.

"How do you want to do this?" Brittany stepped in front of me so her knees bumped into mine. I regretted putting on the sweats, since she was only wearing a fish shirt and her underwear. The paper was still clutched in her hand.

"Do what?" I'd only processed about half of what she had said. I was still trying to muddle and sort through the whole Puck situation.

"The massaging. Do you want to be sitting or laying down?"

I gave a delayed response and looked to the paper in her hand."Uh. I don't know. What's the paper say?"

"It doesn't." She set the paper on the bed. "You should lie down." She decided.

"Okay." I shifted and scooted back a little. I tried not to look too nervous or awkward. So I kept my eyes away from her eyes and locked my sight on her hands.

As soon as my head hit the mattress I closed my eyes.

The bed shifted as she crawled up. I could feel the insides of her thighs graze the outside of my thighs as she scooted up. She stopped moving and sat straddling just above my hips.

"Oh, here." She raised off of me. I opened my eyes to watch her pull my t-shirt up my waist, so when she sat back down she was sitting on bare skin. "Actually," She glanced at me. "Can I just take this off for now?"

I nodded, not able to get any words out.

She inched it up, I wiggled and pulled my arms out of the armholes.

When the shirt was off I didn't panic. She'd seen my new boobs before…well, maybe not while straddling me.

But this was different. Everything about us was different. Almost calming. I felt at ease and for the first time since everything started between us, I closed my eyes because I felt so at ease, not because I was trying to stop a panic attack.

Her fingertips trickled up my skin, up my stomach, leaving a trail of goose bumps. When her hands feather touched the bottom of my chest I let out a begging noise. The anticipation of her touch had caused me to hold my breath, and the instant she touched my boob I couldn't stop the pleasured grunt that squeezed through my throat.

She pulled her hands away. "Did that hurt?"

I opened my eyes. She looked terrified. Her eyes were wide and flashing between my eyes and my chest.

My stomach tightened and twisted. I squirmed beneath her and pinched my thighs. "No." I closed my eyes again. "Keep going."

Her fingers repeated that trail back up and when she grazed over my chest for the second time I was able to stifle my groan.

She squeezed.

"Shit!" I jerked and my eyes snapped open. "Fucking ow."

Brittany lifted her hands and kept them floating inches above my chest. It had felt like she had twisted knives that had been shoved through my nipples.

Her eyes were doe-eyed again. "Sorry." She waited for another second, and when I didn't respond she continued. "It'll only hurt for a second."

"Okay," I sighed, but didn't close my eyes this time. I watched her hands instead.

Her hands moved back down to my chest. She cupped each breast and softly squeezed.

It hurt, but instead of saying something I kept my body tight and rigid and let her start kneading.

It only took a few minutes and the sharp pain dulled. Now it felt like a distant throb each time her fingers squeezed and palmed over my nipples. And then she started to put more pressure. She rocked into my chest and her center started to grind into me.

I looked up from her hands and to her face. She was biting her lip and her jaw flexed with each kneading motion she made.

Fucking hot.

I started to walk two fingers up her thigh. Her motions stuttered from my touch, but she continued her massage.

"Hey Britt?" I husked her name.

"Mmhmm?" She barely noticed.

"Let me do something."

She finally slowed and stopped. Her eyes were hooded and her lips was pink from where she had been biting them. "Do what?" She looked lost.

Instead of answering her I snaked my finger through the waistband of her underwear. Now I bit my lip in concentration. I brought my other hand up and slithered a finger underneath the fabric near her center.

She let out a heavy breath as I pulled her underwear to the side and used two fingers from my free hand to slip through her folds. She was so wet. I had to pinch my thighs again to keep myself from bucking her off and touching myself to relieve the tension.

"Hmm," Brittany hummed and leaned forward. She tucked her face into my neck. Her lips parted and swallowed the skin just below my ear.

As she continued to tease her lips and tongue across my neck, I continued to slip my fingers through her folds. I was still fascinated with how slippery she was and how easily my fingers glided across her.

"Sit up Britt." I hushed and pressed harder into her folds.

Her lips broke from my skin and she let out another heavy breath.

"Sit up." I repeated.

She sat up. Immediately her eyes searched and found my fingers that were touching her.

With one hand I pulled the fabric of her underwear further to the side and with my fingering hand I slid my middle finger again, dipped at her entrance, but didn't enter. She rocked her hips down in response.

I slid the same finger again, dipped at her entrance, and this time I pushed in. Her walls were swollen and instantly consumed my finger.

Her body shuddered in response. Her mouth parted. I hooked and twisted my finger, manipulating her breaths and gasps.

She started to rock into my finger. She placed her palms against my stomach and worked down onto my finger until I couldn't go any deeper.

"Put in another." She begged and gasped.

I shoved a second finger in her. It was tight, but the noise she made told me it was anything but painful.

She started her motion again. Almost like a figure eight. Occasionally I'd curl my fingers or twist them to maker her gasp.

"Shhh…" I hushed her after I'd pressed my thumb into her mound.

"I-I can't," Brittany started to rock faster.

This was maybe the hottest thing I'd ever seen. Was this what guys got to watch when girls were on top of them? Was this what I looked like? Was this what Brittany looked like on top of Puck?

I yanked my hands away. My fingers easily slipped out of her.

She froze, half gasp. "What's wrong?" She said in between a heavy breath. I watched her try to swallow an unexpected gulp and continue to try and catch her breath.

"Can we do this a different way?" I whispered and tried to move, but she kept me pinned between her thighs.

"This feels good," she pouted. "Does it hurt you?"


"What's wrong then?" She lifted her hands from my stomach.

"I just don't like doing it this way." I whispered.

"Oh…kay." She looked at our position. I could tell she still didn't understand. "Okay." She started to swing her leg over me and climb off.

I reached and grabbed her thigh. That look on her face was too heartbreaking. I couldn't just stop. "We can finish."

She sat back down on me. "But if you don't like it," she countered.

"I like it…I just…feel like Puck or a guy or something."

She mouthed the word, oh, but didn't actually say it. "Santana you're not Puck. This is way better." She reached for my hand. "I like your lady parts and your lady fingers."

I didn't answer.

"We can stop." Brittany nodded. "I'm sorry. I should have told you instead of assuming you already knew about Puck." She let go of my hand and wiped a small quick falling tear with the back of her hand. "I just didn't know. If I thought you would have been upset I would have never gone near him. I left right away when I noticed what was happening. I just didn't think you liked him, so I didn't say anything. I thought you liked Mark." She wiped another tear.

I closed my eyes and covered them with the crook of my elbow. This was way too confusing. Just tell her. "I…" I stopped. "It has nothing to do with Puck. I don't really like him like that, I use him for my reputation."

We sat in silence for a second. I wanted to peek out from my elbow and look at her. And I almost did. That's until I felt her lean forward and smile into my lips. "You're not a boy and I like it that way."

Her lips pressed into mine. They were warm and wet. We kissed slowly to start out. Her lips would capture mine, and I'd echo her movements. Then she started to push harder. Her tongue dipped out and slipped over my bottom lip. The next time I felt her tongue, I parted my mouth and let her slip in. Our tongues pressed and slip across each other, just like rubbing velvet.

She spoke through the kiss, "Put your fingers back in." It wasn't demanding the way she said it. It was her way of letting me know what she wanted, and she wanted me

Brittany would never intentionally have done something to hurt me. I had no doubt, just as I had blacked out that night and had woken up next to Mark, she had blacked out and found herself with Puck.

I slipped my hand under the waistband of her underwear. She had drenched them and the back of my hand brushed across her wetness on the fabric and my fingers slid through her folds. "Take your underwear off." I spoke when her lips had parted from mine to take a breath during our heated kiss.

She scurried and yanked her underwear off, and was on top of me again before I had a chance to blink. Her lips met mine again for a short kiss.

"Okay sit up." I ordered.

She sat up on her knees, her center lifted from my stomach. I moved a hand up, fingered her slit, and then finally pushed two fingers back inside her. She bucked into my hand and her back tightened and arched. My palm slammed against her mound, causing her to squeeze around my fingers.

She guided my hand back down until the back of my hand was flat against my stomach. And then she smiled. It was exactly like my silly little Pop Rock smile I'd given her earlier. It flashed and was gone as soon as she started to rock.

Her movements quickened. I could hear her slapping against my palm. Her breathless grunts mirrored the slap.

Hopefully her parents couldn't hear this, because I wasn't too sure we'd be able to explain…But I was too entranced to think about getting up and locking the door. There was no way I was going to stop this.

I curled my fingers and pressed against a swollen part inside of her. She froze.

"Fuuuhh," She gasped and then slowly rolled her hips into my hand.

I straightened my fingers and then curled them again.

Her body dipped down into me and she again tucked her lips into the crook of my neck. A droning groan vibrated from her mouth and against the skin of my neck. Her body twitched and she tightened against my fingers.

I let her come down before I pulled my fingers out. And even after that, she lay against my bare, tender, chest and kept her heavy breaths hidden against my neck.

I swung my arms around her neck and hugged her further into me.


A/N: wanted to save my comments till the end. thank you all for the reviews. This chapter ended up being way longer than I intended, but since when is that ever bad ;) I can honestly say I've never written a chapter where my plan and idea actually went as planned. Please let me know what you think. It keeps me headed in the direction you want.