paperclipbitch: "Think Of It As Personality Dialysis" (отрывки с моими любимыми кактусами)

пакурт, бриттана, everybody's miserable“I have a question,” Santana explains.

This is not going to be good. It’s never ever good when Santana has a question.

“And?”

“Just how gay for Hummel are you? Like, ‘that’s a nice ass and I will now tap it because I’m so hardcore I can fuck anything and it doesn’t matter about the gender’ gay, or ‘he fills my life with sunshine and puppies and now I want to pick out drapes with him’ gay?” Puck just stares at her until she sighs. “You wouldn’t be my bitch if I didn’t notice this kind of shit,” she points out.

Puck thinks about it for a moment. “You’ve noticed he has a nice ass?”

Santana gives him her bitchface. “Brittany called it,” she says. “Also he wears extremely tight pants and I’m much more subtle about my eyeraping than you are. And don’t think distracting me with Hummel’s ass will get you out of answering.”

Puck sighs. “I don’t want to pick out drapes,” he offers. “I’m still a dude, you know?”

Santana’s expression is entirely unreadable. “Good. I bet you’d have crappy taste and Hummel would probably try and beat you to death with his purse and it would all be very, very lame.”

They’re silent for a long moment, and it isn’t comfortable. It’s weird in a way it’s never been between them before.

“Can we talk about Brittany?” he asks after a while.

“Not if you want to be physically capable of fucking Hummel,” Santana replies smoothly.

Puck shrugs. “I’m setting him up with Finn.”

Santana’s expression turns patronisingly pitying. “Oh, Jesus, Puckerman, you loser.”

Puck wants to protest this but he doesn’t really have a leg to stand on here. “I know, right?”

Santana sighs. “Pity make-out?”

“Yeah, why the hell not.”

Puck knows it’s sick and sad and he will never, ever tell anyone, especially not Santana, but it’s kind of nice just to be close to someone. You never really notice how much you need something until you can’t have it anymore.

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So, babygate has broken in the Puckerman household, Puck texts Santana later.

Can I say ‘I told you so’? Santana responds.

After a couple of minutes, she adds: Britt says we should offer you a pity threesome. Emphasis on the pity.

Puck raises his eyebrows; it’s been a while since they offered to double up for him. It’s a shame he doesn’t really want it anymore. Are you two picking out drapes yet?

Britt has a date in half an hour. Some guy on the hockey team.

Puck frowns. He knows Brittany’s not exactly quick on the uptake, ever, but surely she’s got to have figured some things out by now. Apparently not. He’d feel more sorry, but his love life is such a fucking screwed up mess of different religions, genders and levels of pregnancy at the moment that he’s exhausted. Do you want pity sex, Santana?

Her reply comes quickly. Fuck you. I hope your mom kicks you out and you have to live in your truck.

Yeah, Puck texts, me neither.

@настроение: Yeah, me neither.

@темы: fics, glee, цитаты, невыносимая легкость бытия