Santana sighed loudly and reached to intertwine her hand in Quinn's as the warning bell rung. The choir room was full with all the members of the Glee club; Kurt was intense in describing the new Mark Jacobs clothing line to Mercedes, Rachel was lecturing Finn on something that probably had no significance to his life, but her obediently nodded anyways. Puck was talking to Sam, who had an extremely uneasy expression on his face, and Brittany, over in the corner, was all alone. Santana had to consciously look away, and she felt Quinn's hand tighten around hers as Mr. Shue began to speak.
"Alright, let's give our full attention to Santana and Quinn, they have something they would like to share with us," he motioned to them with his hands, and Santana cleared her throat.
"Since it's getting closer and closer to graduation, Quinn and I would just like to tell you all that we are now seeing each other," Santana stated confidently and glanced at Quinn, who was grinning ear to ear.
"That's so hot," Puck uttered with a dreamy look, and Quinn giggled.
Kurt's gaze fixed on Brittany, "and what do you think of all of this?" he questions, cocking an eyebrow.
"Why would you ask her that?" Sam grumbled.
"No, I think that I should be happy for them," she says, nodding the slightest in their direction, "if Santana can't be happy with me, why not Quinn?"
"That's probably the most insightful thing you've ever said," Kurt stated with a blank look, and Mercedes laughed.
"But I'm jealous that they'll be graduating, because I won't be."
"Wait, what?" Santana asked, just as the final bell rung, and everyone practically jumped out of their seats. She sprung over and caught Brittany by the crook of her elbow, leaving Quinn absently chasing after her.
"Santana, you shouldn't-"
"Britt, why didn't you tell me you were failing?"
Brittany turned to face Santana and Quinn, but her eyes fell to the ground, " It's just math," she mumbled, " my teacher said that if I don't get at least a C on my next test, I'm going to be a senior for the rest of my life. I wouldn't mind it, I like high school."
"I want you to graduate," Santana exclaimed, shaking Brittany's arms so that their eyes met. She looked over at Quinn for a moment, who had been politely listening the whole time, before speaking again, "Why don't you come over to Quinn's house tonight. Her parents will be gone, and we'll help you study."
"Wait, like our studying?"
"Yes, our studying," Santana replied.
Quinn suddenly began looking back and forth between Brittany and Santana, "whoa, whoa, who said this was okay?"
"Oh come on, it'll be fine. She needs help."
"I thought you like, hated me or something," Brittany cut in, her eyebrows raised in question.
"I can't let you fail high school. Why don't you go home and get ready. Go home, and do whatever Brittany does go prepare for a night out, and we'll see you later. Quinn and I need to have a chat."
"Okay," Brittany nods, and turns to trot away.
Santana twirls to meet a red-faced Quinn; her arms are crossed and her eyebrows are creased together, "What the hell does 'our' studying mean? And I thought you were mad at her. Like, mad enough to come over to my house to get drunk and bang each other all night."
"Okay, calm down," Santana soothes, and pushes Quinn back into a plastic chair that happens to be conveniently there, "Brittany is the type of person who can remember things if she is rewarded. So the night before a big test, I'd sneak into her house, and we'd study. The harder the question, the bigger the reward."
"Okay, what are you talking about?" Quinn sighs, rolling her eyes.
"Every time she would get a question right, I would take some of my clothes off. Then I'd start to kiss her and do other stuff."
"I'm not doing that!" Quinn shouted.
"No, I'm serious," Santana whined and grabbed Quinn's hands, "one time, we got carried away, and I practically fucked her. The next day she aced her test."
"What happened to it just being us?"
"I do, I really want it to just be us, but Brittany needs help, and no matter how mad I have gotten at her, I can't let her fail. This is the only way she can remember."
Quinn huffed and sat back in her chair, "I can't."
"Yes, you can. Besides, you like math, right?"
Brittany sits cross-legged on Quinn's bed; Santana is in front of her on her knees, and Quinn rests behind her. Santana already doesn't have very many clothes on, but Quinn made sure to cover up nice and good.
"Okay Brittany, we're going to start off easy," Santana says, looking her straight in the eyes.
"Can't Quinn be in front," she asks, and Quinn tightens her jaw from behind.
Quinn begins drawing the Pythagorean Theorem on Brittany's back over her shirt. The room is quiet for a moment, but she nods and answers blankly.
"A squared plus B squared equals C squared. The Pythagorean theorem."
Santana merely smiles and slips her shirt over her head, and Quinn can feel her cheeks grow hot. She's wearing and extra lacey, extra tiny black bra, and Quinn has to not her fingers in the sheets to keep from attacking her.
"Next," Brittany commands.
Quinn draws a square root sign with parenthesis, letters, and exponents together. They both stare at her expectantly, although Quinn can only see that back of her head.
"Distance formula!" she shouts.
"Yes!" Santana yells, and slips off her pants painstakingly slow. Her skin is smooth and dark in the dim light, and she brings herself to hover above Brittany.
"Wait, Santana, can Quinn be up front now. I've always wanted to kiss her."
"I can't-" Quinn begins, but Santana thrusts her up front, switching their places. "I'm not going to strip for Brittany!" she yelps.
"For me? Please," Santana groans.
Quinn sighs and shoots daggers at Santana, who is already drawing the next problem on Brittany's back.
Brittany grins up at Quinn, "square root."
Quinn reaches down and lifts her sweatshirt over her head, throwing it aside.
"Aw come on! That's not fair, she has a t-shirt on!"
"Quinn, please?" Santana says.
"Ugh, she replies, and removes that as well, causing Brittany to smile again.
"Can I kiss her now?" Brittany asks.
"Focus," Santana encourages.
It takes a while to draw on Brittany's back this time, but Quinn is still staring at Santana in disbelief.
"That's distributive property."
"It sounds like Brittany is fine. She's answered all of them correct so far," Quinn protests.
"No, my teacher said I'm the dumbest person she's ever met," Brittany states, "now take off your pants," she says, and reaches over to unbutton them.
"I can do it myself!"
Brittany's lips are abruptly on Quinn's; they're wet, and astonishingly taste sweet, but Quinn shoves her away faster than she could get it through her head that Brittany just kissed her.
"No, I'm not doing this," she squeaks, and wipes her lips, but Brittany unexpectedly moves away, and Santana is in front of her.
"Yes, you are," Santana purrs millimeters away from her mouth; Quinn can't hold back any longer, and leans forward to an open-mouthed kiss.
Quinn can't breathe; Santana is shoving her backwards into Brittany's arms, and she begins kissing down her neck while Santana continues to caress her front. Her skin is covered in goose bumps and her mind is blazing with rage, but she can't move; Santana won't let her. She can't control herself though; it's as if the devil is pushing and pulling her towards Santana, and she absentmindedly bites Santana's lip. Hard. She can taste the blood from her mouth, but she only groans and shoves Quinn again so she's on her back.
"I can take it rough Fabray," she growls as Brittany forces her way above Quinn, and she notices she somehow discarded her clothes as well.
Santana leans over Quinn and kisses Brittany straight on the lips, and Quinn's body explodes again. She forces herself in between them and locks lips with Brittany, who takes the opportunity to place herself in between Quinn's legs, causing her to gasp. Santana laughs at her reaction, and Quinn breaks her kiss with Brittany to find Santana's mouth. Her fingernails scrape into her spine and pull her as close as she can get. There stomach's brush together, and Quinn moans; it feels like she is on fire, and the closest relief is Brittany. She shifts her weight onto Brittany's lap, causing her to fall backwards and flip their positions. She nearly lunges for her lips, and Brittany's tongue swirls in her mouth.
Their mouths battle for one another in a fit of pleasure; they are soaked with sweat and rip at each other's skin for more. Brittany trails kisses down Quinn's front, stopping at that spot on her hip bone, and she arches into an anxious Santana, who hungrily nips and bites at the same spot. The only thing she feels she can do is lay there. Her arms feel like dead weights and eventually she finds herself lying on her back, watching them both above her. When her eyes become heavy and her lips can no longer work, she pushes them away, and Brittany and Santana take to making out alone. The lines between hate and lust blur so fast that Quinn begins to cry to herself. Neither of them notice, and she finally feels the warmth of two bodies on each side of her; the heat lulls her to sleep.
Santana is the first to notice Quinn's absence when they wake up. It's still dark outside, and she has no idea how long they've been asleep. The sheets on the bed are gone and are sprawled out on the floor, and Brittany is curled up in a ball next to her.
"Hey," she whispers loudly, shaking her awake.
Brittany's eyes slowly open, and look around in total confusion, "I think the aliens probed me again."
"No silly, we spent the night at Quinn's, remember?"
A hint of realization creeps across Brittany's face and she sits up, but Santana places a hand on her shoulder, "Britt, why don't you wait here, I'm going to go find Quinn. Find your clothes or something," she adds and springs up.
Even though Quinn is gone, she has thoughtfully left two robes out. Santana takes the plain pink one, figuring Brittany would rather have the one with the cats. She cinches it loosely around her waist and heads downstairs.
Quinn is sitting at the kitchen table, twirling a coffee cup in her hand; she is staring out the window until Santana comes around the corner. Her lips immediately purse and her jaw clenches.
"We didn't really do much studying last night, did we?"
Santana sneers, "no we didn't."
"God, I was so stupid," she sighs, and tears spring to the edges of her eyelids.
"Oh c'mon Q, don't even pretend for a second you didn't have fun last night."
"No I really didn't. I was too naïve to see that you just wanted to get back with Brittany somehow. So you tried to make it enjoyable for both of us. But I didn't have such a great time Santana. I've wanted you and only you for a long time," she almost screams, and a single tear trickles down her cheek.
"Well then why didn't you stop us, huh?"
"Because on Brittany! She's got the mind of a two year old, and I didn't want to hurt her feelings, but god, I hope she fails that damn test."
"Don't say that! We've been best friends for…forever. I want to see the smile on her face when they hand her that diploma."
"Well I need you to do something for me, right now Santana. I need you choose. I need you to choose between Brittany, and me," Quinn cries through a clenched jaw, "I thought we had something. Something special, but apparently not."
It is quiet for a moment, and Quinn tries her best to wipe away all the tears cascading out of her eyes. Santana exhales and hesitates for a moment, but slowly walks over to where Quinn is standing, and wraps her in a hug. It takes a minute, but Quinn eventually cloaks her arms around Santana as well and sobs into her shoulder.
"I've just had a hard time letting her go," Santana whispers, and strokes Quinn's hair. "I love you, Lucy Quinn Fabray, and I will do anything to stay with you. I realize now that that was wrong, and I won't let it happen again. I'll go tell Brittany to leave," she says, and backs away.
"I love you too," Quinn replies, and reaches to wipe her eyes for the last time, "it's hard for me to trust people, you know? But I've somehow let you in, of all people. And I need to know that that trust is there, and always will be. When you do stuff like that, it's just…it's just fucked up, you know?"
"Do you mean that literally?" Santana questions with a smirk.
Quinn laughs to herself, "No, I don't mean that literally. But I will help you get over Brittany. Whatever it takes, I'll go there." Santana grins, and nods. As she turns to head up the stairs, Quinn grabs her hand, "Wait," she says, and pauses to breathe again, "Will you wish Brittany good luck on her test?"