AN - So Brittana fans don't come after me with chainsaws, but this is a Sebtana fic, set post 'Smooth Criminal'. I'm honestly in love with the pair (one of the first hetro couples I've properly shipped and they are both gay...figures). Anyway I couldn't get this out of my head and this happened... I really hope that you all like it and don't hate me too much. Love you all!x
"You've been struck by a smooth criminal."
Wrapped in a dark red blanket in bed seven hours later, Sebastian couldn't shake the song lyrics out of his mind. The exhilaration was still coursing through his veins from finally singing with someone who challenged him and pushed him. Infuriatingly so.
Santana with her long dark hair, flowing around her shoulders and masking her face, and her mistrustful eyes that showed how much she craved to best him. And her voice. It would send goosebumps down his spine - if he could feel anything like that for some stuck-up, self-assured bitch that could wail a few decent notes.
And yet why couldn't he stop thinking about the way her fingers had brushed against his chest as she shoved him away and the elegant curve of her lips, slightly parted inches from his own. The number had been heat, aggression, a fight for power. So why was he left feeling a little disappointed when the devil had scoffed, turned on her heel and left, swinging her hips as she went.
'You're tired Sebastian, and you're thinking crazy. Go to sleep.' He thought and twisted the blanket around him more firmly, pulling up the image of some toned, tanned guy panting beneath him and willing himself to fall into oblivion.
Brittany was upset. And Santana was furious.
"You said that you were with me. And I go away for two hours to visit that asshat at gay Hogwarts and you agreed to go on a date with him?" she screeched down the phone at her girlfriend.
"San, it's not like that. All of Artie's shoes have gone missing and I suspected that a gnome wasbliving under his bed building a fortress with them so that he and his brother's could overpower Artie and steal his soul." her voice was pleading and Santana sighed in frustration, "I couldn't just let that happen San. So I had to go over and after his cousin showed up with the shoes, he'd taken them to get them all cleaned, we ordered in pizza and he helped me with my English assignment."
As adorable as Brittany's world view was, sometimes Santana just needed her to be practical and she had been counting on her girlfriend being there so she could vent about what had happened with Sebastian. But instead she'd been having dinner with her ex-boyfriend.
"And then he said he'd keep helping me with it if I came back over some nights." Brittany continued and Santana's composure snapped.
"Brit I've had a shit day and I needed you, but right now all I can think of is you being with him and you both get close again. You know that he still likes you. I can't talk anymore tonight because I really don't want to fight with you. I'll see you later."
"No, Santana, wait-" but she had already hung up and tossed the phone across the room. It landed with a soft thump on the green beanbag chair.
She didn't understand why it bothered her so much that Brittany was spending time with Artie, she knew that Brittany loved her - in whatever way that was - so why the flare of anger.
It was his fault. The twink. Sebastian. He'd riled her up and she hated that he'd managed to get under her skin.
He with the douchebag Twilight style hair, and lips so inviting that it was difficult not to stare at them. But she didn't stare. Because she hated him. And liked girls. Like Brittany.
The novelty of having someone with just as much sass, A-game and self-confidence was what was making her unable to think about anything but their duet. It wasn't because she could still feel his breath ghosting over her neck or the way his eyes had slid over her, both mocking and appreciative at the same time.
That's what worried her: if some bastard like that could make her feel like he wanted to set her on fire and that she was the most desirable thing on the earth, the what could a nice guy like Artie make Brittany feel for him.
It had been a long day. The trip to Dalton and the duet had taken it out of her. It was 11 at night and she should just go to sleep. She'd talk to Brittany in the morning and hopefully never have to lay eyes on Sebastian again.
It would be alright in the morning.
His hands tangled in her hair as she shoved him down onto one of the chairs, pupils blown and lips smirking playfully.
"What? Not fighting back Smythe?" She brought her mouth down so that her breath tickled his ear. She lowered herself onto his lap, straddling him and in the process her short dress slipped up so that all of her tanned legs were exposed and the glorious curve of her ass just peeked into view.
Everything was Santana. Her scent - dark, dangerous, seductive - wrapped around him. Her hair seemed never ending, a river of darkness that he wanted to drown in. She smirked again and ground herself against him, her mouth parting in a blissful pant.
But she was winning. Controlling him. And Sebastian couldn't have that. He was the powerful one. He was the top. He was the one in control.
He laughed, more shaky than he'd meant to but considering that all of his blood was quickly shifting to his lower regions he couldn't really help it, and grabbed her underneath her thighs an lifted her up, pushing her roughly against the wall in front of them.
She gasped in surprise and a blush spread to her cheeks as leaned her forehead against his. Sebastian's hands slid further back until he was cupping her ass and he bit down on the lobe of her ear, "Hard to fight with Satan. But I'll play along"
Her fingers splayed against her chest and she chuckled, a sound that made him want to punch the laugher out of her while at the same time never want to stop listening to it. He thrust his body against hers, eliciting a whimper that made him growl in satisfaction.
"I think I'll like playing with you." Santana murmured, reaching down to cup his growing bulge before his lips crashed against hers and nothing else mattered.
Sebastian sat bolt upright in his bed, sweat dripping off him and toes curling into the mattress. He didn't. He couldn't. How could he have had a sex dream about Santana.
No, wait, wait, wait, a sex dream about a girl.
He was gay. He liked cock. He liked sucking it and driving his into guy's asses. Girls and boobs, and pussies were like that family member that always gets drunk at get together's and dances on the tables: tolerable but not something you wanted to have anything to do with.
And Santana. He hated her. Hated her stupid long legs and her disgusting soulful voice. Hated her soft looking lips and her curving eyelashes. Hated her perfectly round ass and perfectly sized boobs.
He wanted to control her. That was all it was. She was the first person that he hadn't been able to either shock or charm in respect or tear down. She was tough. And he hadn't beaten her yet.
That was all it was.
He continued to tell himself that as he sent the text message to Blaine asking for her number.
Breathing heavily and biting down on her bottom lip to muffle the sounds of her moaning from her parents in the next room, Santana furiously plunged two fingers into herself while yanking at her left nipple.
Brittany was straddling her, her beautiful blonde hair glistening in the sunlight and a smile playing on her lips. She sucked on her fingers slowly and then dragged them down her naked body, teasing trails along her exposed nipples and dipping down to rub against herself. She threw her head back and moaned, before slipping her fingers from herself into Santana, who felt pleasure rushing through her body. She closed her eyes in ecstasy allowing her girlfriend to keeping pumping in and out of her.
A warm body covered hers and breath ghosted against her ears but the hand never stopped pleasing her. "Enjoying yourself Santana? Think you can handle more?" asked the voice in her ear that made her eyes fly open. Because it wasn't Brittany on top of her anymore. It was someone decidedly less female.
"S-Sebastian... What are you doing?" she whimpered, because his fingers had found that bundle of nerves that made pleasure spasms shoot through her.
He was smirking but his eyes were full of lust and she could tell that he was every bit as turned on as she was.
"Just making sure you're okay Sannie."
And then he was kissing her, lips warm and tongue seeking entrance. She gasped and in the process was consumed by his kiss. She drowned in it, adoring the way his other hand rubbed circles into the back of her neck and the thumb of the preoccupied hand was soothing circles onto her clit.
Everything was Sebastian, and she hated the way that she didn't hate it. But she couldn't think about anything else because with one more crook of his fingers, she was pushed over the edge and wailed in pure ecstasy.
Santana opened her eyes and pulled her hand out from between her legs, wiping her fingers on the towel beside her. Why had she thought of Sebastian while masturbating? And why had that thought turned her on so much?
She had been fine thinking of Brittany, in fact she didn't even have to imagine the sex because it happens, all the time. So why had she changed to that stupid meerkat face?
It was nothing. Stupid. She was a lesbian. She like girls. It just had to be some left over hetro feelings from when she had refused to come out of the closet.
But she didn't have anymore time to think about it as her phone buzzed beside her.
From Unknown: Texting to tell you that I won today. Your pathetic voice doesn't hold a candle to mine.
From Unknown: It's Sebastian.
From Unknown: But I'm guessing that you already figured that out.
Blaine had been pissed, it was 1 in the morning after all, but he was nothing if not unfailingly helpful and it had taken Sebastian all of ten minutes to get his fellow glee club member's number from him.
Sebastian didn't know what he was thinking doing this, or even why he was doing this. He just needed to prove to himself that he was better than her, that she didn't have any control over him what so ever. He sent the texts before he could over analyse it and waited to see what the demoness would reply.
From Santana: I think you need to go to the doctor's because I think that all of the crap you're putting into your hair is seeping into your brain and making your senses get muddled.
From Santana: Because the only way that you can think that your voice is better than mine is if your ears are filled with that gunk.
Sebastian smiled to himself, almost proud that he'd managed to predict that response. Most people went on the defensive, trying to convince you of their own talent. He - and obviously now Santana - went on the offensive making you believe that you were wrong in the first place and it's you that is worse through no fault but your own.
He could almost think that this was going to be fun.
Santana's brain was reeling, she hadn't had time to sort through what her imaginations meant and now she had to argue with the idiotic spoiled daddy's boy. And she was not in the mood.
From Sebastian: Funny I was going to refer you for your awful taste in fashion. I mean the hat? So 2010.
Why was he doing this? Did he know that she was angry, could he sense it, and he just had to get a few extra digs in before she blew up.
He was going to have to do better than that.
From Santana: That's what you come back with. Fashion advice? From the guy who looks like a cross between a preschooler and a college professor? Poor show.
From Santana: And I'd heard such great things about you.
He couldn't help it, she'd given him the perfect opening and he couldn't get the image of her panting and grinding against him out of him mind, so he asked without thinking.
From Sebastian: And what, pray tell, are these great things about me? :P.
From Santana: Don't flatter yourself. You're ego is big enough.
From Santana: And from the looks of things today, your ego is the only big thing about you ;)
She didn't know why she said it, in fact she knew that she was lying, her eyes had managed to unwilling glance at that particular area and she could see that he certainly wasn't lacking. But she'd be damned if she was going to tell him that. She did know, however, that she was going to hit a nerve.
From Sebastian: Looks like you need your eyes tested too Satan because I can assure you my ego is one of my smaller attributes.
From Sebastian: But you were looking? Aren't you meant to be a psycho lesbian?
From Santana: You heard right. I was just checking to see how much force I'd need to put behind the kick that I'm aiming your way for it to hurt you for weeks. Turns out, not much.
From Sebastian: I wonder really how your girlfriend manages to get off with your saggy ass completely putting a downer on any scissoring the pair of you two do.
From Sebastian: Or do you just lay down and let her ride you while you try to keep your unimpressive assets from sliding under your armpits?
Santana wasn't even angry now, nothing that Sebastian could say was going to affect her. The easy insults that they passed back and forth however were...amusing.
From Santana: Oh believes me, I can make my girl scream so loud she wakes up the neighbours, even with my 'saggy ass' so don't worry about my sex life. Worry about your own. Has it been that long since some guys went down on you that you need to go after a guy in a perfectly happy - if sickening - relationship?
It was her longest reply, but somehow the insult didn't sting. What irked him was the thought of Santana getting herself off with some other girl. That shouldn't bother him. But it did.
From Sebastian: Trust me my dick is perfectly well taken care off, Blaine's just for fun.
From Santana: I don't understand why anyone with half a brain would want to go near your dick. But then again you only fuck half-wits and losers, don't you?
From Sebastian: You would know, I hear your 'girl' hasn't got much going for her in way of brains.
From Santana: Fuck you. Don't you dare talk about Brittany that way.
No matter how much his insults didn't affect her, she wasn't about to let him get away with calling Brittany stupid. That was too far.
From Sebastian: Ooh, hit a nerve have we? I guess the great and mighty Satan does also have a weak point just like us mere mortals.
He'd found it then, the one thing he had over her. She was in love. And love made you weak, made you care. Sebastian wouldn't, couldn't do that. And that was where he won.
From Santana: The next time I see you I'm going to tear off your dick and make you watch as I feed it to the little singing bluebirds that next in my hair.
From Sebastian: I can think of a few more, better, things I'd rather you would do to my dick.
Wait? What? Had he really sent that? No. He hadn't... This had been a way to insult Santana, not to hit on her. He was gay for chrissakes! No. He could just pretend like that hadn't happened. She would't reply to that.
Santana stared down at her phone, trying to decide if he was playing her or if he actually meant it. Why should it matter? She didn't want to do anything to his dick apart from hurt it. He was bluffing. Trying to scare her away. He was gay. And so was she.
From Santana: Wrong plumbing twink. And aren't you a little too... umm what's the word? Gay to be thinking about girls doing things to your dick?
From Sebastian: Don't tell me that you haven't been thinking about our duet since the minute you walked out of the door.
From Santana: Yeah, I've been thinking of ways to ends you.
From Sebastian: I've been thinking the same. Just different context.
Why you smug, arrogant, self-indulging asshole! He had to be bluffing. Any second now she was going to get a text telling her how stupid she was for believing that he ever wanted a piece of her.
But no such text came.
From Sebastian: Tell me you haven't thought about shoving me against a wall and fucking. Because that's the vibes I got all the way through the number.
From Santana: Those were, I want to kill you vibes.
From Sebastian: Fuck.
From Santana: Kill.
From Sebastian: Fuck.
From Santana: KILL!
This couldn't be happening. She liked girls. Why would she have put herself through all the pain if she wasn't. Brittany. She loved Brittany. And she hated Sebastian.
Why was he doing this? Pushing it. In fact why was he trying to persuade her at all? She was missing that one all important thing that he loved. A cock. He couldn't want to fuck her.
But thinking once about those gorgeous legs and pouting lips, assured him that yes, in fact he did.
From Santana: Why are you doing this? We're both gay. I like pussy and you like dick. That's the way it is.
From Sebastian: I don't know. I just know that I want to fuck you. And that I don't like you.
From Santana: I don't like you either.
From Sebastian: I don't like you more.
This was getting them nowhere. When had it turned into this? One minute they were insulting each other and the next Sebastian wanted to fuck her. No. She couldn't go there. She didn't want him. Her imagination was wrong.
From Santana: I can't do this. I have a girlfriend.
From Sebastian: Doesn't bother me if it doesn't bother you.
He used the line that he'd used on Blaine, although he'd never used it before on a girl. He'd never met any girl that had turned him on, but he'd met plenty of guys that did. Slamming, sweating, swearing. Sex. With guys. But now it was Santana. And he wanted her.
From Santana: It does bother me. So stop.
From Sebastian: Not until you tell me I'm right. You felt something in that room.
From Santana: No.
From Sebastian: Yes.
From Santana: No.
From Sebastian: Yes.
She had to.
From Santana: Will it make you go away if I agree.
From Sebastian: Maybe, probably not though.
From Santana: Fine. Yes. But I can't. I'm gay.
From Sebastian: I know the feeling.
From Sebastian: Where do we go from here.
She kept telling herself that she was gay and brought up the daydreams and fantasies she'd had about the cheerio's. Brought up the real life stuff with Brittany. She never felt happy with a guy, and she'd had plenty. But with Brittany, she was complete, whole. Happy. With girls.
From Santana: We go nowhere. You go back to getting some twink to sit on your dick and I'll go back to my girlfriend. Today never happened.
She kept protesting but Sebastian knew he was right. Knew that she wanted him just as much as he wanted her.
From Sebastian: You'll be dreaming about me. I know it.
From Santana: You're an idiot. And wrong. Goodnight Sebastian. And drop it.
She forced herself to drop her phone and pull her duvet around her. In the morning this would all just be a hazy memory. She would go back Brittany and forget how it felt to have Sebastian's hand roaming over her body and his length pressed against her. She wouldn't think about it. Couldn't. She hated him. Hated him for what he made her feel. Well, she would feel nothing. The dull ache in her clit wanted her attention but she ignored it, knowing that her fingers would be replaced with images of his. No, so would sleep.
Closing her eyes, she prayed that the face staring back at her from the darkness would disappeared when sleep finally claimed her.
She ignored the buzzing of her phone and drifted away.
From Sebastian: Giving up. Never took you for a quitter.
From Sebastian: Ignoring me won't make it go away.
From Sebastian: Have fun dreaming about my dick.
From Sebastian: I win.
AN - Please let me know what you thought! And thank you for reading!