Title: Knowing The Score
Rating: NC-17
Word Count: 8.9k
Summary: He's been thinking and acting towards this night for so long that he lost sight of the important things. The most important thing.

Notes: Received a prompt from two lovely people and thought I'd give it a go. Bare in mind this is my first shot at Brettiago, and it is genderswap Brittana, just in case people don't know that, but yeah, hope you enjoyyyyyyy :)

Prom night.

The one night that every single American teenager looks forward to, no matter their status, clique, height or weight; they look forward to it. The nerds flock together, the Cheerios flutter their eyelashes weeks before to see who can grab the hottest Jock and the stoners all get high and end up going with whoever. It's the one night all teenagers look forward to because it means dancing, it means music, it means fun and lame attempts from Norah Puckerman and Anita Abrams (the weirdest friendship to have come through McKinley hallways) to spike the punch.

Yet it's still exciting and everyone thrills on it, from the moment it's mentioned at the beginning of the school year to the end of the night where all the stupid, romantic couples give their virginities to each other, and where the popular kids go off to some house on the hills and do things they'll regret for years to come.

Despite all that, Santiago's still not completely thrilled for tonight.

See, he promised himself that be now he'd be okay with who he was, that he'd be proud to hold Brett's hand and tell everyone that he's gay and madly in love with his best friend, but he's not. He's not even freaking near it and he wanted so, so badly, to be ready by now, to be able to ask Brett to Senior prom and to go up for nomination as prom royalty with him, and yet he still hasn't freaking told his parents.

He's such a crappy boyfriend already and they've only been dating officially for two months.

Letting out a long sigh, he drops his head and hangs it between his open legs. This is so shit.

"Santiago!" His mother calls, rapping on the door. "You need to get up now!"

He clears his throat and picks up his head, looking toward the door. "I'm up, I'm up," he grunts in his deep, sleep-filled tone.

"Okay, well breakfast is ready and Brett called."

Instantly, his heart skips and he rolls across the bed, reaching for his phone. He finds Brett's number immediately, pressing down with his thumb and bringing it to his ear, his free hand drumming over his toned abs in time to the rings. He won't lie, he's pretty impressed with his appearance right now. Football training with the so-called Lima celebrity Sullivan Sylvester has been exhausting, but it's bumped up his four pack to a six pack so it's all good.

On the seventh ring though, his thoughts are interrupted by a deep, cheery voice.

"Good morning, handsome, this is your sexy boyfriend."

Santiago chuckles throatily and sniffs, rubbing a large hand over his face. "Mhmm, good morning. May I ask why you're so happy?"

"I've got the hottest boyfriend ever and it just so happens to be prom tonight, which means I get to see you in a suit."

"Me in a suit? You like that?"

"Well, actually I like it better when it's on the floor but yeah, you're pretty damn sexy in a suit."

Brown eyes roll. "You're so cheesy, Brett."

"You love me."

Santiago grins widely. Yeah, he can't deny that. "You know it."

"Okay, so," Brett's voice is higher than usual, more excited too, and Santiago can imagine him bouncing on his bed, looking forward to tonight. "What's the plan for tonight?"

"I've gotta pick Davina up at seven but I can meet you outside the gym entrance at like quarter past."

There's a long silence on the phone afterward and Santiago pulls it away from her ear, making sure his boyfriend's still on the line and yeah, he still is. He's just not talking. What did he say?

"Brett? You still there, babe?"

"Uh... Yeah," Brett coughs and Santiago frowns at the other boy's tone. What has he done to upset him? "I just... I didn't know you were going with her."

He sits up, folding one leg beneath him and letting the other dangle over the side of the bed. "We're running for prom king and queen, Brett, you know that."

"I do, I just thoughtActually, you know what? It's nothing, San." The blonde boy breathes down the line. "Don't worry. I'm justI'm being stupid."

"I told you not to say that," Santiago chides, voice deepening and eyebrows pulling together. "You're not being stupid. So what's wrong? Just tell me what you thought without the stupid part."

"I thought..." Brett sighs. "I thought that seeing as you two were running for king and queen, me and you could at least turn up together."

This has been a long running concern for Santiago. Actually, he's surprised that it took this long to come up between them considering they spend ninety percent of their time together. He knows the only reason he didn't want to bring it up was because for some dumb reason, he thought their prom night would turn out to be amazing despite them not being able to spend it together like the couple they are, but he was expecting Brett to know the boundaries, too.

After all, Brett's been talking about going to Senior prom together since they were seven and spent their time behind the sheds, playing with action figurines instead of peering up girls skirts like other boys did. But somehow it's still taken this long and Santiago thinks the build up has made it worse because now he feels like a total dick. Whereas before he could be blissfully ignorant of the fact he's playing it straight tonight, ditching his boyfriend for an in-the-closet lesbian (also known as his beard) and going to Senior prom. He could be blissfully ignorant that he's pretending to be all happy and shit, when now all he really wants to do is let Brett wrap him up in his arms and tell him how much he loves them in the middle of a dance to some cheesy rendition of Take My Breath Away.

But he can't do that. He's not ready and Brett understands that, but still can't get a grasp on why he doesn't want to arrive with him.

"Brett," Santiago says through an exhale, throwing himself back onto his bed and lobbing an arm over his face. "This thing between me and Davina has to look legitimate. If I turn up with my best friend people are going to start thinking that I don't wanna be with her."

"But you don't."

He sighs and shakes his head, tongue pushing up against teeth. "No, I don't, but if I wanna win then I have to play it like I do."

"I know you don't like me using the word San, but that's stupid and makes no sense."

"I know, Brett, I know," he agrees through a breath. "But it's the way it is."

"Yeah, right. Okay. Whatever," Brett says and his voice is a lot angrier than it was a minute ago.

Santiago can just imagine the flaring nostrils, strong, clenched jaw and hardened eyes and shit, that's kind of hot. No, scratch that, angry Brett is really fucking hot.

"No, babe, come on. I'm sorry," he pleads. "Don't be mad. You know if I could be with you in front of everyone I would."

"Sure. I've gotta go now, my mom just called me."

And then the line goes dead, and he's left with a scrunched up face, knowing that Brett's mom didn't call him because he would've been able to hear. Shit, Brett's pissed at him and now he feels even shittier than he did a minute ago. For fuck sake, prom's already crap and it hasn't even started yet.

He throws his phone onto the carpet somewhere and buries his face into his hands.


Davina smiles at him as she walks down the staircase in her house, but Santiago's too busy thinking how she'd much prefer being with Brett.

Her mom claps him on the shoulder and her father gives him a stern look, and he almost lets out a remark about how he'd much rather screw a cactus than his daughter but thinks it's probably best if he doesn't. He takes her hand and hands her the corsage that matches his tie, then leads her out to the car, opening the passenger door for her and letting her slide in. He makes sure to shoot Davina's parents a smile as he climbs into the drivers seat and reverses out the driveway and to school, taking in deep breaths and reminding himself that this is for the best.

Becoming prom king means automatic rule for the remainder of their time here. It means he'll be go down in the history of McKinley High and people will respect him way too much to pick at him when he finally comes to being okay with who he is, when he finally decides to tell everyone that he's dating his best friend and is gayer than the day is long.

It's the best thing to do.

He just needs to convince himself of that.

Whoever organized the prom definitely did a good job, and Santiago notes that if he finds out who that is, if he even knows who it is, he'll clap them on the back and congratulate them.

Brett isn't waiting for him outside the gymnasium, but it's not really that surprising. He hasn't been answering any of Santiago's texts or calls today and Santiago desperately wishes things were easier. He doesn't get why Brett can't understand how hard this is for him, but then he supposes everything's bright colors, rainbows and unicorns to Brett. Brett's out, sort of. 'Sort of' meaning that he doesn't hide the fact that he finds guys attractive and has made out with a few of their teammates in the past on drunken nights, and people accept that, but they accept that he's bisexual. That's a different ball game to being gay, and people always think Brett's too dumb to really understand sexuality anyway. He's not, but people don't listen or change their minds once one idea is set.

If there were any way Santiago could just throw all his worries away and announce his love for Brett, he would. If there was a switch, he'd flick it. If there was a button, he'd press it. But life isn't easy and shit doesn't happen like that.

Sometimes she wonders if they were both girls, would it be easier?

He doesn't know, but there's no point in thinking about it. It's not like he'll ever find out.

"I'm going to get a drink," Davina says beside him, glancing up with big green eyes, heavily coated with mascara. "You want one?"

Santiago nods and they both go over to the table, where that Asian couple, Michaela and Tim are standing.

"Hey," Michaela greets, smiling up and clutching Tim's hand, the other hovering in the air, grasping a cup of punch. "You two look great."

"Thanks. So do you two."

Santiago nods along to his dates words but lets his vision drift around the room. He spots a few of the Glee kids, Samantha who's standing beside Mack - they really couldn't be more obvious if they tried - Quentin's standing with Fiona looking wholly awkward, and Ray's on the other side of the room, probably pretending to be fawning over Fiona but failing due to the intense eye contact he's got going on with Quentin. That's another thing that should be branded with the 'obvious' stamp.

"So I bet you two are excited for the prom nominations," Michaela continues, tapping her finger on her cup to the beat.

"Yeah, we're stoked. We're gonna win, right, Santiago?"

Davina has to nudge him to grab his attention and he twists his head, eyes widening.

"Huh? Oh, yeah. Winning. Totally excited," he says, bobbing his head but unable hide the flatness in his voice.

Tim stares at him curiously and Santiago lifts a brow in his direction when it goes on a little too long. The eye contact is immediately broken and Tim mutters something to Michaela and only moments later they're smiling apologetically and skipping away to the dance floor to join Samantha and Mack.

A hard tug on his arm takes his eyes away from that and he glares down at his date, hissing, "What?"

"You've gotta get your head in the game," Davina spits, eyes shifting around to make sure no-one's listening.

"My head is in the game."

"No it's not, Lopez. You're out of it. Kick your ass back into gear or I'll have to."

Santiago snarls but doesn't say anything, instead letting Davina pull him to the dance floor for the first song, performed by none other than Brett, Michaela, Tina and Anita.


A little while later when everyone's arrived at the prom's in full swing, Santiago's dancing with Davina in the middle of the floor.

Ray's on on stage performing a really beautiful rendition of Coldplay's Trouble and the moment the music drifted around the room, Santiago began searching for Brett because the lyrics are just too fitting for their situation. He never meant to do Brett wrong, nor did he mean to hurt him, and yet he's standing here, arms wrapped around Davina's middle, with Davina's head resting on his shoulder at the last prom they're ever going to attend in High School, and somehow, he doesn't think he succeeded in that.

Oh no, I see... A spider web is tangled up with me... And I lost my head... The thought of all the stupid things I've said...

His eyes begin searching, and the moment he finds Brett, he almost stops dancing. Brett's over by the wall, sat with his back against the it and head tilted against it too. His eyebrows are pulled together and he's staring at the ceiling, an empty cup hanging loosely from his hands as he sways to the piano of the song. He looks so beautiful, but so pained and it's the best kind of paradox. The tears begin to sting Santiago's eyes before he even notices and he pulls Davina closer to him, unwilling to let her see his emotions.

Oh no, what's this?... A spider web and I'm caught in the middle... So I turn to run... And thought of all the stupid things I've done...

Santiago's done hundreds of stupid things, thousands even. He's done too many to count really, but he'd never take them back. He would never take back that time he got a mullet back in sixth grade, nor would he take back his school year of being the biggest badass around because it led him to the reputation he holds today. He can't really find anything that he's done, be it stupid or not, that he'd take back. Well, apart from one. There's one crucial stupid thing he would most definitely take back.

His heart aches as he watches Brett, seeing what he's putting him through. They love each other, they're together—admittedly secretly but still it's a step up from last year when all Santiago did was push people into lockers and get so angry at everything just so it would distract himself from his feelings—but sometimes love isn't enough.

He wants to be with Brett, he really does, and like he said before, if he could flip a switch he would, but it's just not possible. He's not able to control what his feelings.

It's how he ended up falling in love with Brett in the first place.

And oh, I never meant to cause you trouble... And oh, I never meant to do you wrong...

He chokes back a sob, biting down hard on his bottom lip as he twirls around the room slowly, shifting from side to side. He really didn't meant to Brett any wrong. He wanted the best for him. He wanted him to have the best because he deserves the best. He deserves all the love in the world.

Brett's blue eyes finally find his across the room, and he sucks in a shaky breath, holding it there.

He wants Brett to know what he means, what he's saying. He needs him to know that he loves him, more than anything.

And oh, well if I ever caused you trouble... Oh no, I never meant to do you harm...

And a small smile tugs at Brett's lips as he registers the look, registers the unspoken words and moves his hand to his chest, then to his face, curving it into a heart and then points it directly toward Santiago.

He's telling him he loves him.

All of a sudden, every doubt, every insecurity and every negative thought shoots straight out his head and he stops moving. His eyes squint, his heart pounds loudly against his ribcage and he stares at Brett, wondering how something so beautiful, so incredible can love him, even after everything he puts him through.

Oh no, I see... Spider web and it's me in the middle... So I twist and turn... But here I am in my little bubble...

Slowly, Santiago unwraps his hands from Davina's waist and pushes back, stepping away without breaking the eye contact with Brett. He moves to the side, ignoring his dates call of protest and makes his way towards his boyfriend, a soft smile growing across his face.

Because suddenly, it makes no sense. Why is he so scared? Brett's all he's ever wanted and he can never imagine loving anyone more. He doesn't think he's capable of that.

He's already wasted so much time and this is their final year. This is the last chance he has to hold Brett's hand and show everyone that he can love, that he's not a cold bastard, and that the only reason he's heartless is because Brett owns his heart. Brett's owned it for years, for as long as he can remember.

His hands shake by his side as he approaches Brett, and before he knows it, he's holding out his hand and waiting for Brett to take it, along with his whole life, too.

"Students of McKinley High would you please turn your attention to the stage!"

Santiago jerks, head twisting around to the stage. Brett looks just as shocked and is on his feet in an instant, beside Santiago and letting their hands brush between them.

"The time has come to announce the Prom King and Prom Queen!"

His stomach goes cold and Brett glances to the stage and back, sucking in his lips and dropping his head and eyes to the floor. Santiago knows he's about to cry and just wants to hug him, but he can't. These stupid fears of his are holding him back. For fuck sake. Why can't things just be easy?

"Can all the nominees come to the stage, please!"

Blue eyes drift up to meet brown, and Santiago tilts his head to the side, biting his bottom lip and scrunching his eyebrows together to apologize but Brett just shakes his head, disappointed yet again before he shoves his hands in his pockets and passes by him slowly, making sure their shoulders don't brush on the way. Santiago turns and follows the blonde boy, watching him head toward Samantha and Mack who standing at the back of the gymnasium, a little close to just be friends. Brett just smiles at them and stands there, still looking at the floor as his foot scuffs along it.

This night sucks.

Principal Figgins stands behind the microphone, holding two envelopes in his hand.

"Ladies and gentlemen..." He says, lowly. "This is this moment you've been waiting for."

Santiago takes in a deep breath, standing with his chin held high on stage. To his right, Quentin Fabray's standing there with his dirty blonde hair slicked back, and he's donning a classic black suit with a light green tie that matches his eyes. To Santiago's left is Lawrence Zizes, the once Twilight geek turned wrestler who somehow managed to score Norah Puckerman as his date to prom (Santiago will never understand that) and then further down the line is a ginger guy who he's pretty sure is in his math class, and next to him is Salt Motta.

On the other side, Davina's standing with her head held high and a smirk on her face, Fiona Hudson's beside her looking way too tall amongst the other girls, the math guy's girl is there too, but Santiago doesn't know her name and last but not least, Salt's date Rosa Flanagan, a transfer student from Ireland is standing there, staring at the floor. Santiago doesn't even know how he was nominated but he doesn't want to be a dick and say that or anything. He doesn't really know why people nominated him considering he treats pretty much everyone like crap.

Whatever, though, it's high school. Weirder things have happened.

"And now, I can reveal the winner of McKinley High's prom queen is..."

The entire gymnasium goes quiet, everyone holding their breaths and the only sound that can be heard, beside the weird guy banging on the drums to build the anticipation, is Figgins' fingers flipping open the envelope and twisting it over, his dark eyes peering over the writing.

"Davina Karofsky!"

Everyone's attention flicks to said girl, and her face is bright, lips parted, eyes wide with shock. She squeals and claps her hands together loudly, and that sets off the rest of the audience because the entire crowd begins a round of applause as Davina skips to the microphone, squirming with excitement as last year's prom queen lowers a tiara onto her head, where she touches it, unsure if it's real.

And Santiago knows that right now, it would probably be good to be grinning and to be clapping, basically just looking a whole lot more excited than he does, but he just doesn't feel it. Something about having Davina winning, with him being her running mate, doesn't make him feel great. It just means the higher chance that he's going to be standing beside her in a few moments, having a crown lowered onto his head before he leads her out onto the dance floor for their first dance. None of that makes her heart jump because it's just a reminder that he doesn't have who he really wants in his arms, who he really wants to be dancing with.

When the crowd dies down, and he's allowed to stop clapping, he crosses his fingers by his thigh, hiding them beneath the flap of his blazer and hopes to God that something intervenes, even though there's still a large part of him that wants to win, wants to because that means respect and respect means fear. With fear comes confidence because you just know you can own everyone and no-one wants to trouble you, and that means sometime in the future, Santiago will be able to walk the streets of Lima or wherever they end up after Senior year with Brett beside him, with Brett's hand in his own.

He can do this. He just needs to win.

"Yes, yes, everyone calm down," Figgin's calls, waving his hands in a 'quiet please' motion. "Now, for the winner of prom king..."

Santiago's breath hitches in her throat and she leans forward unconsciously, waiting for the answer, but not before Quentin leans over and whispers, "You may be her running mate but I'm gonna win," into her ear.

Anger pulses within him and he can't help but snarl in return, still keeping one ear tilted to hear the announcement. "Screw you, Fabray. We'll see who comes out as the winner."

"Oh, please," Quentin spits, eyes narrowing. "Like you wouldn't rather be up here with Brett."

All the blood drains from Santiago's face, but it shouldn't come as much of a surprise that Quentin knows. They used to be the badass trio of McKinley's football team, and it always felt like Quentin was the third wheel, even when Santiago refused to admit his brewing feelings for his best friend. Still, though, it makes him freeze and his chest seize with panic. Yet when his eyes flicker out toward the crowd without conscious thought, he catches someone's eye and the response is right there, waiting to be spat straight back. Two can play at this game.

Santiago leans to the right a little, upper lip raising. "At least he knows I love him back," he whispers, and hazel eyes flit toward him. "You can't even give Ray the time of day."

It has the desired effect because all the cockiness and arrogance vanishes from Quentin's face. The corners of his mouth drop and his cheeks suck in, but he doesn't even try and deny it and Santiago leans back, eyebrow lifting because he knows he won. Yeah, fuck Quentin.

"I can announce that the winner is... Quentin Fabray!"

The entire crowd erupts into applause and Quentin still looks pale but he forces a grin, stepping forward without the smirk shot back at Santiago like he was expecting and moves next to Davina. People cheer and Santiago stares, his face dropping and all hope vanishing from his chest. He didn't win. He's not prom king and not only does that mean he isn't going to go down in history, but he doesn't have respect, or fear.

A hand wraps around him and tugs him off into the wings of the stage before he even has time to process more thoughts. His eyes are lost, his mind gone too, and he watches everything blur past as someone drags him through the corridors of the school and only stopping when he's standing in a cold locker room, watching his heavy breaths puff out from his lips in the form of smoke.

And then it's silence, apart from the loud of beat of his heart and breathing, someone else's too.


He blinks, unable to register anything. His chest throbs with the need to breathe but it's like he can't. He just lost and the will to cry bleeds through him but he won't. That'll break him and he can't break in front of Brett. He just lost, but he doesn't need to turn to the voice to know who it is. There's only one person who would drag him off stage and take him to the locker room because they know he couldn't handle the humiliation of running off instead.

"San... I'm... I'm sorry."

He turns slowly, tongue pressing up against the inside of his mouth to hold back that bitter taste coating his tongue. He swallows, his eyes drifting up until they find bright blue ones staring straight back and he watches hands reach out for him, but it's instinct to take a step back. The walls guarding him move his body before he can tell his mind not to and Brett bites harshly on his bottom lip, wincing at the rejection and stilling, panic evident in his eyes. But there's something else there, and the more Santiago looks, the clearer it becomes.


Brett's scared.

He's fucking terrified and Santiago's standing here, crying over losing at the prom king election?

God. He's so fucking stupid.

"Santiago..." Brett chokes but stays still, his shoulders squaring and pulling into his neck, trying to shrink away.

And Santiago hates himself. Right now, he fucking hates himself because Brett's frightened for him, for them.

Brett's fucking terrified that this loss will affect their relationship, will take back the strength and courage Santiago's built so far and will push him back into the closet. He's so scared and Santiago's whining over some stupid prom king loss whilst the love of his life is standing there, thinking about deeper consequences and further down the line.


All Santiago can think of is stupid, materialistic things like a fucking crown and fucking respect he'll gain with it which sure, might lead to him to gathering the courage to coming out, but might not. He's been thinking and acting towards this night for so long that he lost sight of the important things, the most important thing. He lost sight of the thing that he was doing this all for anyway, and now that thing, that person is standing there, panic and fear flashing across his eyes and dwelling in the darkest parts of his eyes, not knowing that Santiago doesn't really need anything else apart from what he already has in front of him and what's already his.

"San..." Brett whispers again, taking the smallest step forward, his strong hands toying nervously in front of him. "San... Please. I—I know you didn't win but... We can get through this... We can—" The words catch in Brett's throat and he swallows thickly and audibly, his eyes unsure and the rest of his sentence dying, switching to something else. "You'll always be my king," he settles on, his shoulders shrugging in a small motion as he tries to read Santiago. "Fake plastic crown or not. You'll be my king, forever."

Santiago blinks, everything inside him bursting with emotion. He blinks, unable to form any words. How was he this fucking lucky? How the hell did someone like him—someone selfish, complicated, grumpy, sarcastic, stubborn and impatient—get someone like Brett? Someone so compassionate, beautiful, generous, sweet, sensitive and just angelic. It's something that fairytales are made of and as he stands here, staring at his boyfriend, he honestly doesn't know why he was even panicking in the first place.

He's got everything he needs, and he's had it for so long.

So instead of forcing out something that'll probably be some cheesy, romantic line about how madly in love he is with Brett, he just shakes his head and feels his heart swell inside his chest, taking in the meaning of Brett's words. He'll always be Brett's king. He'll always be Brett's love, Brett's soul mate, Brett's best friend because those are all the things that Brett will always be to him. He doesn't need a stupid crown to prove that. He doesn't need other people's respect and blessing to hold Brett's hand. He doesn't need anything except the one thing he already has.


And for the first time in pretty much forever, Santiago realizes that.

He just needs Brett. He just wants him. He just loves him.

That's it.


Brett's voice pulls him out his thoughts, and shaking himself from the daze he was in, he begins to move. Step by step, he makes his way toward Brett who seems anxious and uncertain about it, and even though that kills Santiago to know that Brett can't read him right now, can't sense the overwhelming rush of love within him, he sort of loves that he's going to surprise Brett in a good way, since all the surprises committed so far have been bad.

Large, tanned hands come up to pale cheeks and cup them, fingertips tracing along the edge of a strong jaw and Santiago doesn't even hesitate in tipping their heads fall together, noses squashing and breaths trading between them. A gasp catches in Brett's throat, and he doesn't move to steady or stable Santiago against him. He doesn't even budge, just clutches to the bottom of his tuxedo jacket with quivering hands, his pulse racing beneath Santiago's palms and pants beating hard and heavy against Santiago's chin.

Brown eyes peel open slowly, locking into blue and he can see the disbelief in Brett's eyes. He can't believe they're this close, at school. They've never been this close anywhere near McKinley High school grounds, not even beneath the bleachers. They've only ever been like this is the comfort of their own homes, locked away in their bedrooms, beneath the covers and darkness the night brings. They've never been like this, even though they're dating now.

And that thought sucker punches Santiago in the stomach. He can't believe he's got this angel, that this angel is his and he's been hiding it away. Why hide something that's so beautiful and pure?

Well, he's not going to anymore.

He shifts forward, their feet bumping below them and their chests pressing up against each other. They're so close now, their lips brushing as they speak and Santiago can feel Brett's racing pulse beneath the hand on his neck.

"San?" Brett manages on a breath.

Santiago doesn't answer straight away. Instead, takes in a deep breath and shudders when Brett breathes into him, both of them moving in a cycle; Santiago in, Brett out. He smiles to himself and rubs the thumb over Brett's cheek once before he moves, and when he does, it's to kiss his boyfriend. His mouth parts the moment their lips touch, and Brett sucks in a gasp when Santiago takes his bottom lip between his own, sucking it gently. Heat builds between them and Santiago drops one hand to grab at Brett's, still clutching at the hem of his tuxedo jacket, to tug it and wrap it around his waist where fingers clench around the fabric of his own blazer, pulling him tighter as Brett begins to kiss back.

Something new washes over them and Santiago gasps as Brett pulls him into him, their lips parting and tongues sliding and stroking against each other in a practiced rhythm. He can practically taste the love inside the kiss and it kills him to know that this is what he's been missing because he was so damn scared. He was too scared but now, being overwhelmed by Brett's kiss and Brett's touch, just by Brett in general, he honestly doesn't know why.

And as long as he's going down the honesty route, he can say hands down that he wants to stay this close to him forever.

A broken moan leaves one of them and Santiago realizes without conscious thought that his hands have slid between them, the back of his fingers brushing down each button and back up again until the tips begin toying with the bow tie wrapped around Brett's neck. He can feel himself shaking and pulls back, realizing just what he needs to do, what he wants to do to prove that he's not scared anymore, to prove to Brett that he's more important than some stupid crown.

So, with that thought in mind, he pulls the bow tie apart and lets it hang open across Brett's protruding collarbones.

Blue eyes grow wide and Brett gasps, running his tongue along his lips and panting hard. The moment tanned fingers begin slowly undoing each button, strong, pale hands snap up and grab at them, stilling the movement, but Santiago's sure and he doesn't let Brett speak, instead lets the words lose themselves against his lips as he kisses him slowly and softly. When they part, Brett just stares and nods when Santiago sucks in his lips, asking the question with his expression because his mouth can't seem to form them.

Then, staring at each other with heavy eyes, he begins to undo Brett's shirt, lowering his lips to kiss each inch of skin as it's revealed. His lips trace, brush and worship every inch of paleness they come across, and his knees almost buckle with the need he has for him. His mouth flutters down between the dip of Brett's abs, his tongue poking out to trace around the lines and above him, Brett gasps, his chest moving rapidly and hands raking through Santiago's hair, short nails scratching at his scalp. He moves slowly, crouching down further and further and when the last button pops open, he slowly peels each side of the shirt apart and gazes at the perfection in front of him.

He's never seen anything so beautiful.

The moonlight shining through the window falls stark and silvery across Brett's winter-paled skin as Santiago takes a step back, tilting his head and letting his eyes trail over him to admire every piece of him. It brings the sharpness of Brett's cheekbones, of Brett's abs, and he sucks in a shaky breath, his fingertips reaching out to trace over the skin as his vision tilts up, staring into glittering blue eyes.

"I love you," he announces, stepping forward to slide his palms across Brett's collarbones, beneath the shoulders of his blazer and urges it off until it drop to the floor behind him. Brett's eyes grow even wider, his breath quivering as it escapes his lips and Santiago bites his bottom lip, letting his palms flit beneath the shirt still covering Brett's torso, down his strong chest, his ribcage, over his abs and pausing the moment his fingertips of his left hand grasp the buckle of Brett's belt. "I love every inch of you, Brett, and I always will."

Brett nods, and Santiago wets his lips as he leans in, pressing soft, open mouthed kisses to Brett's chest, his fingers beginning to unbuckle his belt until it's free and only then does he begin moving onto the zipper and button on Brett's dress pants. The heel of his hand bumps against the rigid member confined within them, and Santiago smiles against pale skin, slowly moving into a crouch, his kisses lowering until his lips are brushing across the space below Brett's belly button.

He feels the other boy shudder above him, his breath hitch as tanned fingers lower the pants around long legs down, letting them pool at the floor where he carefully takes Brett's feet, removing them from each leg hole until he can push the pants to the side. His head tilts the moment he's face to face with the obvious bulge in Brett's boxers, and his eyes find dark blue ones, hooded with arousal, staring down at him. Long fingers slide through his hair, and he can just imagine what he looks like with tousled hair, dark eyes and swollen lips, but it doesn't bother him. Brett's the only one that will ever see him like this and it gives him some strange surge of confidence as his fingers hook into the top of Brett's boxers and tug down, freeing his erection.

The breath catches in his throat as his eyes lock onto Brett's member. He's seen him like this a million times, but it always manages to shock him. Brett's big, not like freakishly big, but pretty well endowed, and Santiago smirks as his hand wraps around him, stroking him from base to tip languidly, squeezing gently on each loop. Breathy moans come from above and he licks his lips, glancing up and holding the eye contact as his lips press on the pulsating tip of Brett's member.

Something indecipherable spills from Brett's mouth, a hand shooting up to rake through Santiago's dark hair and Santiago moans as he licks his lips and moves forward again, wrapping them around the head of Brett's cock.

He starts slow, happily taking Brett deeper into his mouth inch by inch until it's prodding him at the back of his throat. He can feel his fingers trembling where they're curled around the base of the member and he knows he's stupid for feeling scared; they've done this before, but it's never felt like this. It's never felt like this is leading them somewhere else and he glances up, meeting dark blue eyes, hooded as they stare down at him and he begins moving faster.

He can feel the hardness and warmth of Brett inside his mouth as he lets his tongue swirl shamelessly around the tip and a muffled groan erupts from deep within his stomach as he tastes Brett. He picks up the pace, reaching up with his free hand to stroke up a strong thigh as Brett begins rocking into his mouth, his long fingers of his right hand tangling tighter into dark hair whilst his left hand clutches at Santiago's shoulder, using it as leverage to stand and to move.

Santiago takes him as far as he can go without choking and slowly pulls back, quickly replacing his lips with his hand and jerking Brett as he takes a breath, but then it's straight back in, sucking down onto Brett's cock and letting his tongue drift up the underside of it. His tongue and mouth knows the sensitive spots, and he can tell by the way Brett's panting and pushing into every downward movement that he's close. He's close and Santiago forces himself not to smile, knowing it'd ruin the pace they've reached and instead works Brett faster and faster.

Then it's two, three, four bobs later and Brett's hands snap to his head, holding it in place as he lets himself go. Santiago stays steady, swallowing everything his boyfriend has to give him and pulls back, letting the softening member fall from his mouth, using the hand he once had on Brett's thigh to wipe the excess moisture from his mouth.

He sits back onto his knees, but decides he doesn't want to stop there and leans forward again, letting his lips trail up Brett's abs once more, kissing up the way he kissed down before, the way he worshiped before, until hot, opened mouthed kisses are pressing up the long slope of Brett's neck.

Strong hands fall to his hips, and Santiago nips at Brett's jaw gently, sliding a kiss across his cheek and to the corner of his mouth before he can bring himself to look into blue eyes. But when he does, he doesn't even know why he hesitated.

"San..." Brett whispers, and he's staring at him with unbridled affection and love, and Santiago smiles as he cups his cheek, his thumb stroking over soft skin. "San, I—"

"Don't," Santiago cuts in and wets his lips, tasting the last of Brett on him. Arousal punches through him, settling low in his gut but the overwhelming happiness he feels buzzing through him is too much, so he doesn't focus on how turned on he is. "Just kiss me."

Brett seems as if he wants to say something more, but Santiago doesn't want to hear it. He smiles as warm lips cover his own, coaxing him into a kiss. It deepens within a second, Brett's tongue flicking at his lip and sliding into his mouth the moment he parts it, and a guttural moan comes from deep within Brett, probably from tasting himself.

They stay like that for a while, tanned hands manipulating Brett's face and the angle of the kiss, and strong, pale ones gripping tightly at Santiago's hips as they kiss, so sloppy but so, so deep. There's something more to this kiss though, and Santiago can taste the change as their tongues begin a dance they've perfected over the years, and whereas it would've scared him before, now it's welcoming. It brings a strange warmth to his chest as he thinks about how he could just do this forever. How he wants to do this forever, just be with Brett and show everyone what he means to him.

And a gasp leaves him, sinking into Brett's mouth as something hits Santiago, something that he wasn't ever able to possess before.

It's the click. The one he's heard about in novels and seen in movies. It's the one where he realizes everything he has, and luckily for him, it's not too late. He has everything right here in front of him, and yet he's being so selfish.

Why does he even care what everyone else thinks when he has Brett? Brett's the only one that matters, after all.

Lungs burning for oxygen, Santiago pulls away, their lips parting with a smack and he stares at Brett as blue eyes roam around his face. He takes a good look at Brett, his swollen pink lips, his bright blue eyes, his short, shaggy hair and strong jaw and his chest leaps as he thinks about how this is his. Brett is his and he's so madly in love words wouldn't ever be able to do it justice.

But actions just might.

And that's why he takes a step back, smiles softly and says, "Get dressed. I have something I want us to do."

Blue eyes gaze at him curiously, and he sees the flash of panic behind them and hates it; but it's quickly removed when he steps forward again, cupping Brett's cheeks one more and pulling him into a soft, slow, reassuring kiss. It must say the words he can't because when he pulls away, Brett looks as if he's just seen the light as realization passes over him.

Santiago just smiles and whispers, "Trust me."

And Brett does.

Santiago finishes doing up the last of Brett's shirt buttons as Brett fiddles with his pants. Tanned hands smooth of the collar of his shirt when Santiago's finished, and Santiago takes in a deep breath as their eyes meet.

This is it.

He knows this is the moment and he always thought he'd be scared. He always thought he'd be terrified, would be freaking out and would want to run away and hide, but he doesn't, at all.

Taking a step back, he offers out his hand and sucks in his bottom lip, staring at Brett with nothing but love. "Come with me," he whispers softly and Brett doesn't even hesitate in sliding his palm into his.

They both walk out the locker room, Santiago leading and the moment they come to the gymnasium double doors, Brett stops, tugging Santiago a stop, too. It catches him completely off guard and panic seizes through his chest as he whips his head around, his dark eyes staring quizzically at Brett.

"San... People are in there," Brett murmurs and his voice wavers with fear.

Santiago smiles down at the floor, brushing his free hand across his forehead. "I know," he says, and something in his chest twitches. "I know, Brett."

Brett seems wholly confused but Santiago knows if he doesn't do it now, he won't do it ever. So he drops his hand, instead reaching for the double doors and pushes his palm against it, letting it swing open as he squeezes Brett's hand, leading him into the gymnasium.

Music is booming overhead and most people are dancing, but there are a few people standing off to the side, some by the buffet table and some by the indoor bleachers, but Santiago doesn't care. All he cares is that he's doing this. He's leading Brett to the center of the gymnasium, through the crowd of people and it's like the heavens are shining down on him because it's at that moment the dance song booming throughout the room turns into something slower, something more romantic.

His heart's beating loudly in his chest, threatening to burst and it's like something's lodges in his throat but once again, he just doesn't care. Brett's holding his hand, Brett's with him, Brett's his and right now that's all he cares about.

They come to a stop in the dead center, just in front of the stage and Santiago glances up to see Ray standing on the stage, holding a microphone close to his lips and solely focused on something behind Santiago but he's not in the mindset to care. He's solely focused on something of his own, something which, as he glances at him, he realizes is terrified.

How to be brave... How can I love when I'm afraid to fall...

Brett's eyes are wide and scared as they flicker about the dance floor, meeting a few curious and quizzical looks being sent their way, but Santiago doesn't notice it. Instead, he's staring at Brett's profile, wanting nothing more than to pull him close and move their bodies to the slow beat of the song, and so he does.

His hands slide around Brett's waist, and immediately blue eyes flash to him, growing even wider even though he wasn't sure it was possible. A smile tugs at his lips and he ducks his head, silently asking Brett for the go ahead but Brett seems entirely thrown off by this that all he can manage in response is a shaky nod and a quivering lip.

But watching you stand alone... All of my doubt suddenly goes away somehow...

They both know everyone's looking at them, Santiago can feel the thousands of piercing eyes stinging against his back but he doesn't care. He's got Brett in his arms, and he's coaxing strong arms around his neck until they're rocking slowly. He rests his temple against Brett's and he can hear Brett's shaky breath beating against his ear; he's still terrified.

So he pulls back, bringing one hand up to run through shaggy blonde hair until blue eyes meet his dark ones.

"Why are you so scared?" He breathes and Brett's eyebrows push together, almost like he doesn't understand the question.

Darling don't be afraid... I have loved you for a thousand years... I'll love for a thousand more...

Brett's arms tighten around his neck, tensing impossibly so. "Everyone's looking," he stutters, swallowing visibly. "Everyone's looking at us."

And it's true. As Santiago spins around, his eyes find the several couples around them who've stopped dancing altogether to stare at them. Months ago this would've freaked him out. Months ago he wouldn't have even stepped near Brett with the fear that someone would be able to pick them out. Months ago he would be pushing Brett away, muttering a whispered apology and running out with tears streaming from his face.

I will be brave... I will not let anything take away what's standing in front of me...

But that was then, and this is now.

Now he's not afraid. Now he knows what he has and wants everyone else to know too.

"I don't care," Santiago finally answers, letting his hand drift to the back of Brett's hair where it stays. "Let them watch," he continues, lifting a shoulder. "I just wanna dance with you, Brett. I... I just wanna be with you."

He watches the way Brett processes the words, the way it takes exactly five seconds for him to realize what Santiago's saying. How on the first second, he stills. How on the second, his brows begin to push together, on the third he glances around and then back to Santiago, it slowly sinking in.

Santiago watches how on the fourth second Brett slowly develops the words, the meaning finally striking him and processing completely, and on the fifth second, how the breath rips straight from his chest as he meets Santiago's dark, smiling eyes, finally understanding that he's all Santiago wants. He's everything and Santiago doesn't care anymore what people think, he wants people to know and blue eyes grow wide but soften as Brett gets that.

Then on the sixth second, Santiago kisses him.

And they just keep kissing through the next ten seconds, letting everyone see exactly what's been behind closed doors for too many years.

So what did you think? Brettiago isn't everyone's piece of cake but thought I'd give it a go once I was prompted.

Could you leave a few words about what you thought? Thanks :)