Special?. Special needs, more like!
Title: Special? Special needs, more like!
Author: Fufuluff
Pairing/Characters: Finn x Santana.
Rating: PG... even G.
Summary: His idiocy is somewhat forgivable in the eyes of Santana Lopez.
Disclaimer: I don't own Glee~.
Spoilers: The Power Of Madonna. (1x15.)
Also Found: Right Here.
Author Note:
Hello everyone. (: I've decided to step out of my little box and create a somewhat longer story for y'all. A totally different take on Finn and Santana. (Especially Santana!) I wanted to express some of her inner turmoil and inner insecurities. I really hope you enjoy! I rather like this one myself. C:
Edited to the best of my ability. Sue me if you see super bad mistakes. ;)
"So... how do you feel?"
"I don't feel anything. Because it didn't mean anything." It was hard to believe just a few moments earlier, their legs were tied together and he was panting her name.
They sat at the burger joint. The awkward, lingering silence hung over the both of them like vultures. She could see his twiddling thumbs as they waited for her food. Santana couldn't help but feel bothered. If anything, he should be drooling and asking for more, not looking near to tears like he did right now. She felt like pulling out her cell phone and calling his mom- because he really looked like he needed his Mommy or something like that. She rolled her eyes and let out a sigh of exasperation. This charade had done nothing to Finn at all, and the outcome was not what she had wanted. All she got out of this was a craving for fattening burgers, which didn't benefit her at all. Her brown gaze searched his face, but he was totally and completely zoned out right now. She would just make herself think he was totally picturing her naked in his thick head, that's why he was so unresponsive to her obvious bored movements and not entertaining her. She snapped her fingers in front of his face.
Nothing. Quinn was right. He probably did have a pea-sized brain, which would perfectly match his pea-sized peni-
"Double cheese burger?" The waitress confirmed as she set down the greasy plate in front of Santana. She let off a faint smile and tilted her head when she saw Finn. "Is that all for you two? What about you, sir?" Not a word in reply. Loosing her short temper, Santana slammed her hand down on the table, jolting Finn awake. A scowl had settled onto her face, and she crossed her arms.
"He's fine. Get him an energy drink. Or a beer, better yet." Santana snarled, leaning back in her chair as the girl quickly nodded her head and dashed away. She rose an eyebrow at the man staring back at her, waiting and expecting him to say something, but he didn't. She refused to be the one to say the first word, but she loved to be the one with the last. Everyone knew this, even Brittany. He still isn't saying anything, and she could feel her annoyance gnawing away at her stomach. She would have to submit. "Are you going to sit there and mope around the entire freaking night?"
"Huh? What?" Finn's eyes flickered with slight interest. When he matched his gaze with hers, he quickly dropped it, and his eyes to their previous state. She wanted to smack him across his dopey face. She shot daggers at him, which seemed to get his attention fully. "Okay. Oh. You got your burger? Awesome. Can we leave now?" The words practically rolled off his tongue.
"You're so freaking out of it, and I'm getting bored." Santana hissed, leaning across the table to get closer to him so her loud voice wouldn't interrupt the people around her. She could be yelling, really. He should be thankful. Instead, the limited space between them made Finn sweat, and he pulled away immediately. She would strangle him if murder wasn't illegal. "I don't bite."
"Actually you do." Finn spluttered back, then began to blink at the stupidity of his remark. He pushed the thoughts to the back of his mind and swallowed nervously, choosing his next words very carefully. "I'm... sorry, Santana, but I just gave something really special away to-"
"Finn. It isn't that big of a deal, I'm not carrying your baby or anything." Finn winced slightly and she could feel sadistic satisfaction flood her. She knew that hit a nerve, and she was proud of it. Quinn was his weakness lately, and she would use that to her advantage.
"You." He finished, already flinching because he feared Santana would really hit him this time, and it wouldn't be a playful slap to get him to hurry up, no. He didn't dare meet her eyes- they probably had the signature stare on them right now. The expression that just screamed: Bitch. He had seen it on Quinn millions of times before, but when Santana did it... it was like the devil had come along, possessed her, and was staring right at his soul. He shuddered, the glare gave him chills.
"And what's wrong with me?" She inquired as he opened his eyes to see her face totally blank. He couldn't tell if she was offended or just curious. He didn't want to upset her more than she already was, so he made a silent vow in his head to remain silent. They stayed like that for a few minutes, Santana penetrating her gaze into Finn, but she cocked an eyebrow again, sass and irritation ebbing it's way into her voice. "You should be PROUD to have lost it to me."
"No I shouldn't." He whispered more to himself than to her, he was returning back to his trance-like being.
"Why?"
"Because you're not special."
"Excuse me?"
"You're not special Santana!" So he broke his vow. He exploded. His face scrunching up into that unattractive face of pure and utter anger like is always did when he got mad. His voice had the power of a war behind it; he just looked so upset, confused, and ticked off all at the same time. "You're just another girl at school." He didn't notice the scowl on her face beginning to wash away into disgusted pout. "There's a reason why it's called love-making! You're supposed to be in love! But... I... you... I just did it with another typical whor-"
"Shut up." She commanded, rising from her seat to stand up and tower of the man who usually stood above everyone else. She didn't think he had it in him. She really didn't think he had the mental capacity of saying something like that. She pushed the food she had ordered back with such a force, it tumbled off the table into Finn's lap. He gawked at her in return. She'd have to call Brittany and have her pick her up. There was no way she was going back to that hotel now. Placing her hands on her hips, she purred with as much dignity and composure as possible, "Exactly. Doesn't it suck that Quinn did the same thing?" Then she spun around, feeling that all too familiar sting in her eyes that she hated so much.
"Finn Hudson just apologized to me."
"And I care why?"
Rachel Berry and her fat, ugly, crooked nose were standing at her locker. Santana just wanted to get home, Glee club had been interesting. She had seen Finn and Rachel speaking before it had begun, and she heard Finn lie about their little act. No, no. She wasn't offended or anything. She just felt humiliated. He should be bragging that he finally ascended into someone of his age, but instead he chose to deny it. She blamed Rachel. It also didn't help that throughout Glee club, she could feel his sad eyes glance at her from time to time, but then back at floor. She wanted to terminate his existence. Rachel's too. The brunette was babbling about something that was probably important... but Santana just couldn't. It hurt her, physically and mentally to look at her. It really did. The overwhelming pain... she couldn't stand it. She felt so... distracted when she listened to the girl.
"Could you please hide your nose?" Santana remarked, placing her hand on the locker to support her when she leaned on it. "I feel dizzy when I look at it." She smiled cunningly as Rachel stood there flabbergasted for a few minutes. Then she gave a sigh of relief when Rachel turned around, hiding her hideous nose. Her nose was just, incredibly and utterly distracting.
The back of her head bobbled up and down as Rachel spoke. She probably looked so stupid rambling off to what seemed to be thin air. Santana had the urge to tip-toe backwards and leave her there, but she decided to remain there for a few moments before executing her plan. But then Rachel said those key words.
"I bet you slept with him." She finished, taking a few breaths because she always insisted on talking without any gaps. She was like one big run-on sentence.
"I thought he told you what we did." Santana drawled coolly, not really knowing why she wasn't exposing Finn right now. "If he said we didn't do anything, I guess we didn't, right? Frankly, I don't care."
"Look." Rachel suddenly spun around, and Santana grimaced slightly. In turn, the musical power-house rolled her eyes. "Ignore my nose, and just listen Santana. He hasn't been acting the same. Like... he reminds me of some depressed gray cloud." She began to stutter like some broken record, "I-I-I bet he's taking it hard that I'm with Jesse and everything. I totally get that. But we agreed we're friends... and friends don't hurt each other. And I care about him... and other things like that." She finished with a reassuring nod. There was a look in her eyes, concealing her true emotions. Jealousy? Santana couldn't help but accomplished.
"Right." Santana shot back, giving her the best death glare she could. "And he'll get over it in a few days. I don't carry STDs or anything." Oh great. She had said too much.
"So you DID take it!" Rachel's voice almost had a crack in it. She quickly cleared her throat, regaining her composure. "I'm sure he's a very lucky man." Rachel's voice wasn't so peppy now. In fact, she looked rather dejected and shocked. Her hands started twitching as if she was removing something sticky off it. Her eyes flashed with envy. "Okay. Well." She turned on her heel and began her fast stride back down the hallway. Santana debated on if she should laugh manically, feel insulted, or actually care. To make decision making worse, Finn and his droopy eyes lumbered down the hallway. She witnessed them get larger as Rachel passed by and a sudden wave of sickness flowed through her. Finn Hudson, you can do so much better.
"Hey, Rachel." Finn's lips curved upwards into a sweet smile. Placing his hand on her shoulder to make her stop walking, his eyes clouded with slight concern. "Uh, you okay?"
"I'm perfectly fine, Finn." Rachel looked up at him, wide and hopeful. In a few seconds, a look of displeasure came over her as she followed Finn's vacant stare to Santana, who was observing them not-so-subtly from the opposite end of the hallway.
"Are you sure you're okay?" He cocked his head to the side like a puppy, then a sheepish grin spread across his face. "I heard somewhere that when girls say they're fine, they really aren't..." His voice trailed off and he shuffled his feet awkwardly.
He's so stupid. Santana thought as a smile tugged at her lips. She refrained, of course, gathering her stuff and getting ready to leave. She leave just in time to hear Rachel's loud steps bound down the hallway. She could tell she was jealous, even though she was so obviously taken. She was too busy thinking of how she could get Quinn back on her side and finally terminate Rachel Berry for good when she hit a large, squishy wall. She veered back, ready to smack the asshole who wasn't watching where it was going.
"Huh? Oh. Sorry Santana." Finn immediately pushed past her, eager to leave her alone.
"Hello, asscrack," Santana's lips curved into a fake smile, "Watch where you're going." How dare he treat her like such a mere person! He should be kissing her feet and begging for forgiveness. She could launch everything she had at him, and tell the rest of the Glee Club of their little meeting. She could rub it in Rachel's face that Finn had come to her only to agree to their plan. Why did she care, anyway? Finn Hudson was such a stupid person anyway - he really meant nothing to her. However, she couldn't help but feel insulted when he almost called her a whore. She knew she was a whore. She knew she needed attention. Hell, she craved it. Being Quinn Fabray's shadow was more than annoying, and by sleeping around? Well. She got her fair share of reputation! Though it almost seemed like a crime. Sex was just a way to feel good right? Why the hell did Finn think it was so special?
There's a reason why it's called love-making! You're supposed to be in love!
But love was stupid. Who in the world would actually have a relationship with her if she didn't cough it up? She wasn't the most... well, tolerable girlfriend.
She turned around. She would make amends. After all, in the end, she wouldn't feel bad anymore. Not like she felt bad right now. Well, perhaps she did, and Santana felt that if she made amends, the annoying feeling of guilt would go away like it normally did, and she could forget everything happened. Usually, she would "pay her debts" in bed, but Finn Hudson? Apparently, he was different.
"Hudson," she spat, "if you're really sorry, meet me in the motel room this weekend. Same room. Don't screw up the numbers this time."
He wasn't sure why he was even here. He was questioning his ability to survive as he had arrived at the hotel. It only made sense, that he should come back to this dreaded place. Santana had commanded him to go, and it almost seemed like she really meant it. Like she really wanted him to come or something. He wasn't here for... sex... he was here because Santana told him to. He didn't want to see her naked again. What if she was already undressed? What would he do then? He took a deep breath as he lumbered up the staircase, knowing that with each step, he was bringing himself closer to ultimate doom. Santana didn't want to do "it" again, did she? No. No. She would have approached him differently. What if he actually pissed her off so much that she was going to kill him! He gulped before swiping the hotel card through the slot. The door's light turned into a bright green and he let himself in the room. It was dark. Oh my god, he was going to die.
"Hudson!"
He brought his attention over to the outlined silhouette of a girl by a lamp. Santana? That couldn't be Santana! The person that he was seeing was holding what looked like to be a gun! He felt his breath being sucked out of him. Desperately, he felt around for the light switch. Within a few moments, he heard the click and the lights flickered on.
There sat Santana Lopez. In an oversized t-shirt, holding an Xbox controller, not a gun.
"H-how'd you get an Xbox?" Was all that escaped his lips. In turn, he received a disgusted, annoyed growl from Santana.
"Well, isn't that the most unimportant question you could ask." She commented dryly, tossing the second player controller at him without warning. He jolted to catch the precious item, dropping his bags on the floor in order to catch it. She rose her eyebrow in a "nice catch" sort of way then dismissed the question. Guess he wouldn't be finding out where the hell she got an Xbox. Hesitantly, he made his way onto the bed beside her. Oh my god they had sex in this bed.
"Santana. Why am I here?"
"I don't know."
"Seriously, why?"
"Set up the game, Hudson."
Why did he bother coming if she was going to boss him around like a bitch the entire night? He could play Xbox from his own house! If all Santana wanted to do was play freaking Xbox, she could have phoned him and asked to do multiplayer online or something. Then again, Santana was a girl. A girl who apparently really liked Xbox. Maybe her girlfriends didn't like playing, so she had to resort to him to satisfy her video game playing cravings! Poor Santana! He checked out her games, and decided that they would go with Call Of Duty, one of his favourites. While setting the game up and pressing all the right buttons, he heard a rustle of tin foil behind him, and he whipped his heard around. There she was. Pulling out four, tasty looking burgers wrapped in tin foil. What the hell was going on? He stared at her, until she noticed.
"God! You don't want to drive me to a burger joint later on tonight, right?" She pointed out, already opening hers and shoving half of it inside her mouth. Her eyes narrowed as Finn kept staring at her, waiting for an answer expectedly. "Would you rather me tell Berry straight up that we did the deed? You suck at figuring out apologies. Whatever."
The television started with the main title screen of Halo, and Finn chose to not answer her question. She seemed angry already, and she could whip out her Catwoman claws. His fingers worked quickly on the joystick to set up a game, and within moments he had crashed, boy-style, onto the bed. Within a few moments, the crashing sound effects of the game filled the silence of the room. They were both doing quite well. Finn had always been good at Call Of Duty. All was intense until he ended up kicking her ass, causing her to let out a squeal (or scream) or surprise as she died.
"YOU KILLED ME, BASTARD!" She spat, punching him square in the arm. She actually wasn't that strong. He smirked to himself. He could take on Santana!
"That's the point of the game." He replied easily, navigating through the menu to set up yet another match. Her eyes reverted back to the television screen, ready to get lost in the game of war once again. A silence settled among them for the next little while, and it was becoming a pattern. He would lay a super awesome attack, and then she would die. Santana would get pissed, call Finn something insulting, and they would start another game. Finn still didn't understand why he was here. Even so, as the night progressed and bags of chips opened, he realized that Santana Lopez had laughed a few times. She actually laughed, like she was enjoying herself.
But why!
Why was he here? She had mentioned an apology earlier, but he didn't really pay attention. Was she saying sorry? Was this Santana's way of saying sorry for taking his virginity? Why would she say sorry for something like that! Santana didn't care about that sort of thing, and she had voiced that. So why?
Maybe because you called her like, a whore?
Oh crap.
"Hey!" Her voice interupted his thoughts, and he shifted his gaze toward her, "Teach me how to do that grenade-throwing-thingy." She held out her controller and waited to be assisted.
"It's real simple," Finn started matter-o-factly, feeling somewhat smart on this topic, "you access your stored items by pressing this button and..." As his fingers pointed to the correct button combination, Santana made a lunge for his controller. No way! Santana played sneaky! His poor man would be such horrible hands if Santana got hold of his controller! She would walk his soldier right into some sort of explosion! What a sly fox. Immediatly willing to die for his men, he dropped Santana's controller and twisted around to yank his out of her hands. He failed, and she let out a cackle of laughter. He tried again, but she twisted away and he fell awkwardly on her thigh. One last time! He lunged for the controller, and she got up and attempted to leap away. Luckily, he grabbed hold of her ankle. Unluckily, this caused her to stumble and collaspe ontop of him. All of her. Including her night wear of an on oversized t-shirt and just underwear. She looked super good with her hair down for once too. Oh shit.
She dropped the controller and pulled off of him, mildly flustered. She wasn't expecting him to stare at her like that.
"Santana?"
"What."
"Am I allowed to know why I'm here now?"
She let out an exasperated sigh as she turned around to meet his gaze, "I'll be frank. I have no idea. Maybe I'm saying sorry. Maybe I'm not just some whore-"
"I'm sorry." Finn said earnestly, "I was just... really ticked off. Um. You were great. While we had it." He didn't dare meet her gaze. That was totally embarrassing and girlish. Ugh.
"Yeah?" She let out a devilish chuckle, "I know. I mean, obviously."
An awkward silence settled between them, and she shifted uncomfortably, developing a sudden interest in getting snuggled under the covers. Well, he guessed she was finished playing now. Was the high and mighty Santana Lopez touchy on the subject? Maybe she didn't always want to be the one everyone tossed around. He couldn't remember the last time he had seen Santana go steady with someone. Was there even a last time? She was more a one night sort of girl, wasn't she? Perhaps she didn't want that anymore. He watched her blankly as she went deeper into the covers, not meeting his gaze.
If men were more like gentlemen, maybe ladies would act more ladylike.
Finn was a gentleman, right? Quinn called him that. Whenever Quinn was angry, or didn't want to talk, he would step up and kiss her on the forehead - like a gentleman. With sudden impulse he leaned over and planted one right in the middle of Santana's forehead. She blinked with surprise.
"That's it?" Santana inquired after a pause, a smug smile crawling up her face. That was it? Just a kiss on the forehead? Didn't he want more, or something? They always wanted more. That's why they kissed her anywhere in the first place!
"Yeah." He answered, getting up from the bed as his face burned with embarrassment. He went over to the television and started to pack up the Xbox equipment.
"You're a special one, Hudson." Santana remarked, hiding the disbelief in her voice. They were alone in a hotel room. He had every opportunity to take advantage of her, and he was putting away Xbox equipment? Special needs, more like!
"You too," He replied casually. Secretly, he hoped that she would pick up the fact that he was taking back what he said before. Santana was pretty cool. Badass. It was... special to find that quality in a girl.
"Yeah?"
"Yeah."
Author Note:
Ultimate freakin' props to you if you can figure out where I got that quote.
I swear. This had like, no angst. I was GOING to made it angst. I swear. But Finn is just so stupid, and Santana has the highest temper ever- they made comical madness. So, this is another fluffy ficlet from me. C:
Please, give me some feedback, kill me for grammatical errors, or call me against OOC moments in a review?
Thanks, Lexi out!
Author: Fufuluff
Pairing/Characters: Finn x Santana.
Rating: PG... even G.
Summary: His idiocy is somewhat forgivable in the eyes of Santana Lopez.
Disclaimer: I don't own Glee~.
Spoilers: The Power Of Madonna. (1x15.)
Also Found: Right Here.
Author Note:
Hello everyone. (: I've decided to step out of my little box and create a somewhat longer story for y'all. A totally different take on Finn and Santana. (Especially Santana!) I wanted to express some of her inner turmoil and inner insecurities. I really hope you enjoy! I rather like this one myself. C:
Edited to the best of my ability. Sue me if you see super bad mistakes. ;)
"So... how do you feel?"
"I don't feel anything. Because it didn't mean anything." It was hard to believe just a few moments earlier, their legs were tied together and he was panting her name.
They sat at the burger joint. The awkward, lingering silence hung over the both of them like vultures. She could see his twiddling thumbs as they waited for her food. Santana couldn't help but feel bothered. If anything, he should be drooling and asking for more, not looking near to tears like he did right now. She felt like pulling out her cell phone and calling his mom- because he really looked like he needed his Mommy or something like that. She rolled her eyes and let out a sigh of exasperation. This charade had done nothing to Finn at all, and the outcome was not what she had wanted. All she got out of this was a craving for fattening burgers, which didn't benefit her at all. Her brown gaze searched his face, but he was totally and completely zoned out right now. She would just make herself think he was totally picturing her naked in his thick head, that's why he was so unresponsive to her obvious bored movements and not entertaining her. She snapped her fingers in front of his face.
Nothing. Quinn was right. He probably did have a pea-sized brain, which would perfectly match his pea-sized peni-
"Double cheese burger?" The waitress confirmed as she set down the greasy plate in front of Santana. She let off a faint smile and tilted her head when she saw Finn. "Is that all for you two? What about you, sir?" Not a word in reply. Loosing her short temper, Santana slammed her hand down on the table, jolting Finn awake. A scowl had settled onto her face, and she crossed her arms.
"He's fine. Get him an energy drink. Or a beer, better yet." Santana snarled, leaning back in her chair as the girl quickly nodded her head and dashed away. She rose an eyebrow at the man staring back at her, waiting and expecting him to say something, but he didn't. She refused to be the one to say the first word, but she loved to be the one with the last. Everyone knew this, even Brittany. He still isn't saying anything, and she could feel her annoyance gnawing away at her stomach. She would have to submit. "Are you going to sit there and mope around the entire freaking night?"
"Huh? What?" Finn's eyes flickered with slight interest. When he matched his gaze with hers, he quickly dropped it, and his eyes to their previous state. She wanted to smack him across his dopey face. She shot daggers at him, which seemed to get his attention fully. "Okay. Oh. You got your burger? Awesome. Can we leave now?" The words practically rolled off his tongue.
"You're so freaking out of it, and I'm getting bored." Santana hissed, leaning across the table to get closer to him so her loud voice wouldn't interrupt the people around her. She could be yelling, really. He should be thankful. Instead, the limited space between them made Finn sweat, and he pulled away immediately. She would strangle him if murder wasn't illegal. "I don't bite."
"Actually you do." Finn spluttered back, then began to blink at the stupidity of his remark. He pushed the thoughts to the back of his mind and swallowed nervously, choosing his next words very carefully. "I'm... sorry, Santana, but I just gave something really special away to-"
"Finn. It isn't that big of a deal, I'm not carrying your baby or anything." Finn winced slightly and she could feel sadistic satisfaction flood her. She knew that hit a nerve, and she was proud of it. Quinn was his weakness lately, and she would use that to her advantage.
"You." He finished, already flinching because he feared Santana would really hit him this time, and it wouldn't be a playful slap to get him to hurry up, no. He didn't dare meet her eyes- they probably had the signature stare on them right now. The expression that just screamed: Bitch. He had seen it on Quinn millions of times before, but when Santana did it... it was like the devil had come along, possessed her, and was staring right at his soul. He shuddered, the glare gave him chills.
"And what's wrong with me?" She inquired as he opened his eyes to see her face totally blank. He couldn't tell if she was offended or just curious. He didn't want to upset her more than she already was, so he made a silent vow in his head to remain silent. They stayed like that for a few minutes, Santana penetrating her gaze into Finn, but she cocked an eyebrow again, sass and irritation ebbing it's way into her voice. "You should be PROUD to have lost it to me."
"No I shouldn't." He whispered more to himself than to her, he was returning back to his trance-like being.
"Why?"
"Because you're not special."
"Excuse me?"
"You're not special Santana!" So he broke his vow. He exploded. His face scrunching up into that unattractive face of pure and utter anger like is always did when he got mad. His voice had the power of a war behind it; he just looked so upset, confused, and ticked off all at the same time. "You're just another girl at school." He didn't notice the scowl on her face beginning to wash away into disgusted pout. "There's a reason why it's called love-making! You're supposed to be in love! But... I... you... I just did it with another typical whor-"
"Shut up." She commanded, rising from her seat to stand up and tower of the man who usually stood above everyone else. She didn't think he had it in him. She really didn't think he had the mental capacity of saying something like that. She pushed the food she had ordered back with such a force, it tumbled off the table into Finn's lap. He gawked at her in return. She'd have to call Brittany and have her pick her up. There was no way she was going back to that hotel now. Placing her hands on her hips, she purred with as much dignity and composure as possible, "Exactly. Doesn't it suck that Quinn did the same thing?" Then she spun around, feeling that all too familiar sting in her eyes that she hated so much.
"Finn Hudson just apologized to me."
"And I care why?"
Rachel Berry and her fat, ugly, crooked nose were standing at her locker. Santana just wanted to get home, Glee club had been interesting. She had seen Finn and Rachel speaking before it had begun, and she heard Finn lie about their little act. No, no. She wasn't offended or anything. She just felt humiliated. He should be bragging that he finally ascended into someone of his age, but instead he chose to deny it. She blamed Rachel. It also didn't help that throughout Glee club, she could feel his sad eyes glance at her from time to time, but then back at floor. She wanted to terminate his existence. Rachel's too. The brunette was babbling about something that was probably important... but Santana just couldn't. It hurt her, physically and mentally to look at her. It really did. The overwhelming pain... she couldn't stand it. She felt so... distracted when she listened to the girl.
"Could you please hide your nose?" Santana remarked, placing her hand on the locker to support her when she leaned on it. "I feel dizzy when I look at it." She smiled cunningly as Rachel stood there flabbergasted for a few minutes. Then she gave a sigh of relief when Rachel turned around, hiding her hideous nose. Her nose was just, incredibly and utterly distracting.
The back of her head bobbled up and down as Rachel spoke. She probably looked so stupid rambling off to what seemed to be thin air. Santana had the urge to tip-toe backwards and leave her there, but she decided to remain there for a few moments before executing her plan. But then Rachel said those key words.
"I bet you slept with him." She finished, taking a few breaths because she always insisted on talking without any gaps. She was like one big run-on sentence.
"I thought he told you what we did." Santana drawled coolly, not really knowing why she wasn't exposing Finn right now. "If he said we didn't do anything, I guess we didn't, right? Frankly, I don't care."
"Look." Rachel suddenly spun around, and Santana grimaced slightly. In turn, the musical power-house rolled her eyes. "Ignore my nose, and just listen Santana. He hasn't been acting the same. Like... he reminds me of some depressed gray cloud." She began to stutter like some broken record, "I-I-I bet he's taking it hard that I'm with Jesse and everything. I totally get that. But we agreed we're friends... and friends don't hurt each other. And I care about him... and other things like that." She finished with a reassuring nod. There was a look in her eyes, concealing her true emotions. Jealousy? Santana couldn't help but accomplished.
"Right." Santana shot back, giving her the best death glare she could. "And he'll get over it in a few days. I don't carry STDs or anything." Oh great. She had said too much.
"So you DID take it!" Rachel's voice almost had a crack in it. She quickly cleared her throat, regaining her composure. "I'm sure he's a very lucky man." Rachel's voice wasn't so peppy now. In fact, she looked rather dejected and shocked. Her hands started twitching as if she was removing something sticky off it. Her eyes flashed with envy. "Okay. Well." She turned on her heel and began her fast stride back down the hallway. Santana debated on if she should laugh manically, feel insulted, or actually care. To make decision making worse, Finn and his droopy eyes lumbered down the hallway. She witnessed them get larger as Rachel passed by and a sudden wave of sickness flowed through her. Finn Hudson, you can do so much better.
"Hey, Rachel." Finn's lips curved upwards into a sweet smile. Placing his hand on her shoulder to make her stop walking, his eyes clouded with slight concern. "Uh, you okay?"
"I'm perfectly fine, Finn." Rachel looked up at him, wide and hopeful. In a few seconds, a look of displeasure came over her as she followed Finn's vacant stare to Santana, who was observing them not-so-subtly from the opposite end of the hallway.
"Are you sure you're okay?" He cocked his head to the side like a puppy, then a sheepish grin spread across his face. "I heard somewhere that when girls say they're fine, they really aren't..." His voice trailed off and he shuffled his feet awkwardly.
He's so stupid. Santana thought as a smile tugged at her lips. She refrained, of course, gathering her stuff and getting ready to leave. She leave just in time to hear Rachel's loud steps bound down the hallway. She could tell she was jealous, even though she was so obviously taken. She was too busy thinking of how she could get Quinn back on her side and finally terminate Rachel Berry for good when she hit a large, squishy wall. She veered back, ready to smack the asshole who wasn't watching where it was going.
"Huh? Oh. Sorry Santana." Finn immediately pushed past her, eager to leave her alone.
"Hello, asscrack," Santana's lips curved into a fake smile, "Watch where you're going." How dare he treat her like such a mere person! He should be kissing her feet and begging for forgiveness. She could launch everything she had at him, and tell the rest of the Glee Club of their little meeting. She could rub it in Rachel's face that Finn had come to her only to agree to their plan. Why did she care, anyway? Finn Hudson was such a stupid person anyway - he really meant nothing to her. However, she couldn't help but feel insulted when he almost called her a whore. She knew she was a whore. She knew she needed attention. Hell, she craved it. Being Quinn Fabray's shadow was more than annoying, and by sleeping around? Well. She got her fair share of reputation! Though it almost seemed like a crime. Sex was just a way to feel good right? Why the hell did Finn think it was so special?
There's a reason why it's called love-making! You're supposed to be in love!
But love was stupid. Who in the world would actually have a relationship with her if she didn't cough it up? She wasn't the most... well, tolerable girlfriend.
She turned around. She would make amends. After all, in the end, she wouldn't feel bad anymore. Not like she felt bad right now. Well, perhaps she did, and Santana felt that if she made amends, the annoying feeling of guilt would go away like it normally did, and she could forget everything happened. Usually, she would "pay her debts" in bed, but Finn Hudson? Apparently, he was different.
"Hudson," she spat, "if you're really sorry, meet me in the motel room this weekend. Same room. Don't screw up the numbers this time."
He wasn't sure why he was even here. He was questioning his ability to survive as he had arrived at the hotel. It only made sense, that he should come back to this dreaded place. Santana had commanded him to go, and it almost seemed like she really meant it. Like she really wanted him to come or something. He wasn't here for... sex... he was here because Santana told him to. He didn't want to see her naked again. What if she was already undressed? What would he do then? He took a deep breath as he lumbered up the staircase, knowing that with each step, he was bringing himself closer to ultimate doom. Santana didn't want to do "it" again, did she? No. No. She would have approached him differently. What if he actually pissed her off so much that she was going to kill him! He gulped before swiping the hotel card through the slot. The door's light turned into a bright green and he let himself in the room. It was dark. Oh my god, he was going to die.
"Hudson!"
He brought his attention over to the outlined silhouette of a girl by a lamp. Santana? That couldn't be Santana! The person that he was seeing was holding what looked like to be a gun! He felt his breath being sucked out of him. Desperately, he felt around for the light switch. Within a few moments, he heard the click and the lights flickered on.
There sat Santana Lopez. In an oversized t-shirt, holding an Xbox controller, not a gun.
"H-how'd you get an Xbox?" Was all that escaped his lips. In turn, he received a disgusted, annoyed growl from Santana.
"Well, isn't that the most unimportant question you could ask." She commented dryly, tossing the second player controller at him without warning. He jolted to catch the precious item, dropping his bags on the floor in order to catch it. She rose her eyebrow in a "nice catch" sort of way then dismissed the question. Guess he wouldn't be finding out where the hell she got an Xbox. Hesitantly, he made his way onto the bed beside her. Oh my god they had sex in this bed.
"Santana. Why am I here?"
"I don't know."
"Seriously, why?"
"Set up the game, Hudson."
Why did he bother coming if she was going to boss him around like a bitch the entire night? He could play Xbox from his own house! If all Santana wanted to do was play freaking Xbox, she could have phoned him and asked to do multiplayer online or something. Then again, Santana was a girl. A girl who apparently really liked Xbox. Maybe her girlfriends didn't like playing, so she had to resort to him to satisfy her video game playing cravings! Poor Santana! He checked out her games, and decided that they would go with Call Of Duty, one of his favourites. While setting the game up and pressing all the right buttons, he heard a rustle of tin foil behind him, and he whipped his heard around. There she was. Pulling out four, tasty looking burgers wrapped in tin foil. What the hell was going on? He stared at her, until she noticed.
"God! You don't want to drive me to a burger joint later on tonight, right?" She pointed out, already opening hers and shoving half of it inside her mouth. Her eyes narrowed as Finn kept staring at her, waiting for an answer expectedly. "Would you rather me tell Berry straight up that we did the deed? You suck at figuring out apologies. Whatever."
The television started with the main title screen of Halo, and Finn chose to not answer her question. She seemed angry already, and she could whip out her Catwoman claws. His fingers worked quickly on the joystick to set up a game, and within moments he had crashed, boy-style, onto the bed. Within a few moments, the crashing sound effects of the game filled the silence of the room. They were both doing quite well. Finn had always been good at Call Of Duty. All was intense until he ended up kicking her ass, causing her to let out a squeal (or scream) or surprise as she died.
"YOU KILLED ME, BASTARD!" She spat, punching him square in the arm. She actually wasn't that strong. He smirked to himself. He could take on Santana!
"That's the point of the game." He replied easily, navigating through the menu to set up yet another match. Her eyes reverted back to the television screen, ready to get lost in the game of war once again. A silence settled among them for the next little while, and it was becoming a pattern. He would lay a super awesome attack, and then she would die. Santana would get pissed, call Finn something insulting, and they would start another game. Finn still didn't understand why he was here. Even so, as the night progressed and bags of chips opened, he realized that Santana Lopez had laughed a few times. She actually laughed, like she was enjoying herself.
But why!
Why was he here? She had mentioned an apology earlier, but he didn't really pay attention. Was she saying sorry? Was this Santana's way of saying sorry for taking his virginity? Why would she say sorry for something like that! Santana didn't care about that sort of thing, and she had voiced that. So why?
Maybe because you called her like, a whore?
Oh crap.
"Hey!" Her voice interupted his thoughts, and he shifted his gaze toward her, "Teach me how to do that grenade-throwing-thingy." She held out her controller and waited to be assisted.
"It's real simple," Finn started matter-o-factly, feeling somewhat smart on this topic, "you access your stored items by pressing this button and..." As his fingers pointed to the correct button combination, Santana made a lunge for his controller. No way! Santana played sneaky! His poor man would be such horrible hands if Santana got hold of his controller! She would walk his soldier right into some sort of explosion! What a sly fox. Immediatly willing to die for his men, he dropped Santana's controller and twisted around to yank his out of her hands. He failed, and she let out a cackle of laughter. He tried again, but she twisted away and he fell awkwardly on her thigh. One last time! He lunged for the controller, and she got up and attempted to leap away. Luckily, he grabbed hold of her ankle. Unluckily, this caused her to stumble and collaspe ontop of him. All of her. Including her night wear of an on oversized t-shirt and just underwear. She looked super good with her hair down for once too. Oh shit.
She dropped the controller and pulled off of him, mildly flustered. She wasn't expecting him to stare at her like that.
"Santana?"
"What."
"Am I allowed to know why I'm here now?"
She let out an exasperated sigh as she turned around to meet his gaze, "I'll be frank. I have no idea. Maybe I'm saying sorry. Maybe I'm not just some whore-"
"I'm sorry." Finn said earnestly, "I was just... really ticked off. Um. You were great. While we had it." He didn't dare meet her gaze. That was totally embarrassing and girlish. Ugh.
"Yeah?" She let out a devilish chuckle, "I know. I mean, obviously."
An awkward silence settled between them, and she shifted uncomfortably, developing a sudden interest in getting snuggled under the covers. Well, he guessed she was finished playing now. Was the high and mighty Santana Lopez touchy on the subject? Maybe she didn't always want to be the one everyone tossed around. He couldn't remember the last time he had seen Santana go steady with someone. Was there even a last time? She was more a one night sort of girl, wasn't she? Perhaps she didn't want that anymore. He watched her blankly as she went deeper into the covers, not meeting his gaze.
If men were more like gentlemen, maybe ladies would act more ladylike.
Finn was a gentleman, right? Quinn called him that. Whenever Quinn was angry, or didn't want to talk, he would step up and kiss her on the forehead - like a gentleman. With sudden impulse he leaned over and planted one right in the middle of Santana's forehead. She blinked with surprise.
"That's it?" Santana inquired after a pause, a smug smile crawling up her face. That was it? Just a kiss on the forehead? Didn't he want more, or something? They always wanted more. That's why they kissed her anywhere in the first place!
"Yeah." He answered, getting up from the bed as his face burned with embarrassment. He went over to the television and started to pack up the Xbox equipment.
"You're a special one, Hudson." Santana remarked, hiding the disbelief in her voice. They were alone in a hotel room. He had every opportunity to take advantage of her, and he was putting away Xbox equipment? Special needs, more like!
"You too," He replied casually. Secretly, he hoped that she would pick up the fact that he was taking back what he said before. Santana was pretty cool. Badass. It was... special to find that quality in a girl.
"Yeah?"
"Yeah."
Author Note:
Ultimate freakin' props to you if you can figure out where I got that quote.
I swear. This had like, no angst. I was GOING to made it angst. I swear. But Finn is just so stupid, and Santana has the highest temper ever- they made comical madness. So, this is another fluffy ficlet from me. C:
Please, give me some feedback, kill me for grammatical errors, or call me against OOC moments in a review?
Thanks, Lexi out!