my dirty little secret - part three
Title: My Dirty Little Secret
Author: kalexico
Pairing, Character(s): Quinn Fabray/Santana Lopez
Rating: PG 13
Word Count: 1754
Summary: Skipping Government
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part one, part two
"So tell me, Ms Lopez," Annie Warbucks, the school nurse said, a sigh audible in her voice. "What exactly is the matter?"
Santana swallowed and whiped non-existent sweat from her front. "I... oh fuck... I really don't feel very well, ms Warbucks. I have a terrible migraine, I feel nauseous, my head is throbbing and I swear to God that my uterus is trying to fucking kill me."
Annie Warbucks didn't do so much as flinch at Santana's foul mouth. She knew it was a habit impossible to break. She knew Santana because she sometimes volunteered to help out, but somehow, something always happened afterwards. She couldn't deny the young Latina's offer, though, because prinicipal Figgins genuinely believed that this was the girl's way of making up for her undesirable behaviour.
"I take it this is that time of month again?" The school nurse couldn't conceil the disbelief in her voice, but she probably wondered what the point was in arguing.
"Yes, ms Warbucks," Santana nodded defeatedly. "I get it this bad a few times a year. It's impossible to be here right now, I've been suffering all day."
This was where I came in. "It's true. She's been a mess, dragging herself through the hours, but she really can't take it anymore. Besides, our next class is government and at the moment, we're working on a project in pairs in class. We're paired up, so we can easily catch up later."
Annie Warbucks nodded. "You can still attend class, though, Quinn. Maybe consult with your teacher or do some work by yourself?"
"But ms Warbucks, my parents aren't home this week and there's no - oh fuck that hurts, could you turn off that bright light? - there's no way I can drive myself home in this condition."
"Alright, alright," ms Warbucks gave up and got out her pad and a pen. "Quinn, you can take ms Lopez home and look after her. Who are these for?" she asked, alluding to the slips she was about to write.
"Mr Larkin is our Government teacher. We're also in Glee club, so we'll need one for Mr Schuester," I said, using my softest, most vulnerable voice.
Ms Warbucks wrote the names down and then looked up. "Get better soon, ms Lopez," she said, dismissing us.
Santana got up, pretending to have trouble with that. I rushed over to her and put my arm around her back so that she could lean on me. She shut her eyes tightly against the bright hallways lights and we slowly shuffled to the door. We kept it up all the way to the parking lot - you never know who's watching, until we reached Santana's car. She always preferred we drove hers. She loved the Land Rover her father had gotten her under the pretence of it being a gift for her getting her permit, but in reality it was his way of apologising for being the absent kind of dad.
I got in the driver's seat, my hands resting on the steering wheel. I was the only one other than Santana who was allowed to drive her baby. I turned to look at her and had to suppress a sigh. Now that I'd admitted to myself that I was in love with her, the world seemed to be a different place. Santana seemed to be different, too. She seemed to glow, like she was even't human, like she didn't belong in a town like Lima, Ohio. I took a sharp breath and concentrated on driving.
"Did you have anything in mind?" I asked, steering the car off the student's parking lot. Our houses were both in the same direction.
"It's so hot out, I thought it'd be nice to hang out in the pool," Santana answered. "The one truth I told earlier was the fact that my parents aren't home."
I burst out laughing. "I still can't believe she fell for it! You really should consider becoming an actress."
Santana shrugged. "I don't think she bought the story, she just didn't feel like making a scene because she knew that in the end, Figgings would root for me. Daddy's been very generous at the beginning of the school year."
I shook my head in disbelief, but decided not to be bothered by it. We arrived at her house and Santana handed me a bikini before retreating into the bathroom to change. I held the swimsuit up and frowned. This must have been the skimpiest piece she had.
Santana came out of the bathroom, a tube of tanning lotion in hand. With her Puerto Rican roots, she didn't really need it, but she loved the feeling of rubbing it on her skin. We grabbed some towels and went outside. After draping her towel over a lounge chair, she turned to me.
"Lie down. If I don't rubs you in, you gonna be all kinds of burnt later."
I swallowed, trying very, very hard not to read too much into that comment. Instead, I laid down on the lounge chair. As always, Santana straddled me and poured some lotion on the palm of her hand, starting to rub it in at my shoulders. I bit my lip - there was just something so erotic about it. We had done it plenty of times, before either one of us got a body to die for, but with the recent realisations that had come to me in mind... It only got worse. The next step was my stomach, her fingers nimbly dancing around it before rubbing it with the palms of her hands. She moved up dangerously close to my breasts and I swear to this day she must've seen through the (skimpy) bikini top how hard my nipples were as her thumbs grazed the skin right below my breasts. She then proceeded to do my legs, standing up and bending over to do so. I forced myself to close my eyes because really, her breasts dangling in front of me was just too much to take.
When she finished, she ordered me to flip over, so I did. She straddled me again and once again, it was nearly impossible for me to ignore the heath surging through my body. Her hands were again working their magic, my legs first, then my back. Her fingers slipped under my top all the way up to my shoulders. Then she was finished and jumped off me as if what she just done was no big deal. Well, okay, in reality there really wasn't. We used to do this all the time.
"Come on, Q. My turn."
I stood up, my legs still shaking, to let her take my place. In a daze, I went through the motions of rubbing her body with the lotion. I didn't allow myself to think at all, to really look at her. I knew that as soon as I stopped doing it mechanically and let my feelings come into play, I'd be done with.
I finished and draped my own towel over the other lounge chair, sunbathing and pretending like we were still just best friends and nothing more was going on.
After a while, Santana dived into the pool gracefully. I followed suit. We were doing laps along the same speed and being on the Cheerios clearly paid off.
"You know, with this kind of weather I'm thinking of taking up swimming daily," Santana said after twenty laps. "I want to keep fit while I'm off the Cheerios. I don't want to have any trouble when I come back. You've no idea how fucking tempting it is to binge of junk food when Sue's not there to watch your every meal and snack."
I laughed. "She can't see into our houses, Santana. She wouldn't know if you ate tons of chocolate every day, as long as you do it as home."
Santana scowled. "Right. That's how she knew I ate a cheeseburger."
We both exited the pool to catch some sun before the day had progressed too far. As much as I loved Glee club, this was a nice change from listening to Berry ranting on and on about the importance of musicals in education.
After a while, Santana turned her head to me, squinting her eyes. It made me feel slightly uncomfortable, so I asked: "What?"
"Do you think I need a boob job?" she asked bluntly.
I was startled. "What? Who told you that?"
Santana shrugged. "Nobody," she mumbled.
"Santana..."
"Nobody! I was just wondering. I saw this documentary on TV and... you know. I was just wondering if maybe I needed one."
"You do realise that Sue would kick right off the Cheerios again if she ever found out, right? Or worse, degrade you to the bottom of the pyramid."
"I know," Santana said in a whiny voice. "But I just... she wouldn't have to find out."
"I still don't get what got into that pretty little head of yours," I sighed.
Santana stood up and straddled me again, her knees resting next to my hips. She blocked the sun. My throat went dry.
"What are you doing?" I asked hoarsely.
"Feel them."
"What?"
"I said: feel them. Come on, grab 'em and tell me if you think that I need a boob job."
"I don't have to feel them to know that you don't..."
She smiled at me playfully, almost as if she saw right through me - but how could she, when I'd only realised it myself?
"Come on, Q, don't be a fucking wuss." She grabbed my hands and placed them on her boobs. I whimpered. They felt so right, so... soft. I couldn't help but squeeze them softly. I felt her nipples in the palm of my hands and could have sworn my bikini bottom was soaked when she pushed her lithe body into me.
"So...?" she asked.
I tried to swallow, but failed. "You... you definitely don't need a boob job. They're perfect."
Santana got off me and went back to her lounge chair. "I guess I'll have to think up another birthday present from daddy then."
I laughed out loud, partially because I found the thought of her asking her dad for a boob job funny and partially to release the tension that had been building up inside of me.
I looked at her outstretched body and knew it for sure: I was in love with Santana Rosa Maria Lopez and I wanted to fuck her more than anything.
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