Never again (Quinntana)

New Year One Shot - Unrelated to the story

Santana headed towards the amphitheater, tired of waiting by herself. Brittany was supposed to be dancing there with Kurt and Mike. The rehearsal should have been almost done, and Santana figured she could watch whatever was left of it.

She pushed the  revolving door open, entering from above. A flight of stairs unfolded in front of her, and she had a perfect view of the dais, and of the three people sensually dancing there.

While Santana had thought Brittany and the boys would be dancing to a stupid pop song with an upbeat rythm, she found out Mike and Kurt were undulating against Brittany's body, to the sound of Prince's Purple Rain. 

Brittany's hands were in her own hair, purposefully messing it up. Mike's left hand desperately tried to stop her, as Mike himself, on his knees, was pressed against Brittany's right leg. His right hand was reaching for Kurt.

Porcelain was in a half crouch, his left hand lost in Mike's hair, his right extremity running up and down Brittany's left side.

Entranced, Santana walked slowly down the stairs, as the music filled her blood and her soul.

The chorus came on, and Kurt joined Mike in a rumba that matched the music pefectly. 

Brittany was left alone, and she gripped her body with both hands, trying to recreate the contact the boys had deprived her from. 

Santana's feet, unbeknowst to her, were climbing the stairs leading to the stage. 

She reached her best friend exactly as a certain green-eyed blonde, spinning and turning, found her way to Brittany. 

Santana extended her arm on autopilot. Quinn and Brittany had each linked their fingers with hers, and the grouped they formed was dancing as one to the beat.

Getting unbearably close, then agonizingly far.

Finally the second chorus came on and their fingers slid from each other's, their bodies trembling as the music possessed them. 

The music played on, and Santana kept her eyes fixed on the two girls. Her body had escaped all control, and she was vibrating to the rythm of the music, reaching for her friends without ever daring to touch them. 

She sensed the same unquenchable desire on their part, but physical contact had been tacitly forbidden from the moment they had let go.

Now everyone of them was dancing on their own, blissfully unaware of anything besides the other two. 

Which music was playing didn't matter anymore. Quinn's T-shirt had ridden up her hip from the heat of her movements, and Brittany's black laced dance dress taunted Santana more at every twitch of her lean muscles. 

Unable to stop herself, Santana reached for the girls. One and the other, in which order, she did not know, she did not care; she tugged on Quinn's T-shirt, caressed Brittany's laced body, felt their hands gently stroke her belly as they removed her top. 

Quinn kissed her and Santana gasped as she felt the green-eyed blonde biting her lower lip. Their tongues danced with one another, and all the while Santana felt another touch, kisses trailing up her thighs, and up, stopping, then up again-

Santana crouched and entangled her fingers in Brittany's hair, joining ther lips with a passion she did not think herself capable of. And then Quinn's fingers were tracing the line of her core, circling her breasts, delicately, as Santana's lips locked with Brittany's yet again.

Time slowed and sped up, and now one of the blondes' hands was jamming against Santana's clitoris; Santana's face was pressed between Quinn's legs, and Quinn was gently caressing Brittany's body, from her face, to her ears, to her hair, to her round breasts, down to her magnificent abs, and down again.

Another eternity passed, and Quinn's tongue was dancing on the Latina's clitoris, licking and teasing, stimulating and taunting. All the while Santana was kissing Brittany, and Brittany was satisfying Quinn, moaning in pleasure as she did.

Their sounds harmonized, and Santana was not able to tell who was moaning, nor when her pleasure ended and that of the others started. 

This was a strange feeling, of being herself yet being unextricably bound to two others. Her sense of self was fading away- in a way that made her feel ecstatic. 

Up and down had stopped making sense; so had slow and fast, when and where, how and why. 

Santana sighed in blissful satisfaction. Her mouth merged with Quinn's, her arms embracing both blondes as she buried her head between the two.

Their hands roamed her body as hers roamed theirs.

Time had stopped and they were one, for however long it would last. For however long time held off its desperate race forward. For a split second. For an eternity. 

A.N. 

Happy New Year!

That was literally a one shot, so please don't be too hard on me if some editing is needed. 

Wish you all the best for the New Year, and hope this chapter helped relieve some of your anxieties for a minute.

Love,

Alya