rrrowr: by babyoil_gfx  (I AM NOT A FORGER I AM A LAWYER)
[personal profile] rrrowr
Title: Fire, Set, Match
Rating: PG
Summary: Santana visits Dalton and tries to get some help from the Warblers to find Kurt. [Written for [livejournal.com profile] msmoocow's prompt on tumblr for Santana to hit on Blaine.]

ETA: NOW WITH ART BY [livejournal.com profile] ileliberte

Whatever Puck said about Dalton Academy being full of gays and sissy boys, it sure didn't seem like they were all that gay when Santana swished through the gates. She was wearing an approximation of their uniform courtesy Rachel, who had insisted that, even if it was just to check on Kurt and not the Warblers, Santana was skipping school and trespassing besides and blending in was probably a good idea.

It was a stupid idea (Santana had told Rachel so even as the uniform was being thrown at her) because the clothes did nothing to hide the fact that Santana was very much a girl – a girl with breasts that made the neck of the blazer pop and hips that made it flare. There was the ponytail, too, but cutting that off just to check up on Kurt only got a Hell No from Santana because nothing would make her cut off her hair except the poor pathetic kids that relied on charity and her Nana. Anyone that suggested otherwise was just asking for trouble.

But anyway – the Dalton boys. Totally not gay and totally willing to take Santana to where the Warblers practiced as soon as she cast any of them a little bit of a heated look. They were like dogs, really, she decided. Give ‘em a little meat and they were slobbering at her feet in no time at all.

There were a lot of good picks to choose from. There was an Asian boy named Wes, who wasn’t nearly as lanky tall as Mike but made up for it by being pretty authoritative to the other boys, and there was David, who was kind of bashful and kind of funny-sweet. He'd bent over her hand and kissed it with a cheeky smile she could appreciate on a guy. Then there was Blaine, who was cool in a disinterested sort of way, but didn’t seem to be affected by Santana’s presence at all, which was just not cool because she was looking pretty fucking hot right now, if she could say so.

While she curled her nails along Wes’ jawline, she said, “And where’s your newest boy, hm? Kurt Hummel.”

“Oh,” he said, seeming to blink back to himself. That just wouldn’t do at all... “If you’re interested in him, you should know he’s gay.”

Santana made a low considering sound in the back of her throat and just as she intended, Wes melted into her hands like putty. “If I was looking for a boyfriend, I’d look in other directions. You get what I’m saying?”

She winked; he made a few flustered attempts at speaking and gave up with a hard swallow.

“He’s my boy though,” she said, biting her lip as she let the backs of her fingers follow the line of his throat and her fingernails flick at his ear. “I want to check that he’s well taken care of.”

Wes floundered, completely unsuccessful at finding words that might be helpful to Santana’s mission, and his eyes dropped to her collar... and then lower. Santana sighed, withdrawing from him with a huff.

Really. She’d never considered being too hot a burden before.

Then her gaze landed on Blaine, who was sitting on the couch in front of her, legs crossed at the knees. He was utterly engrossed with his phone, tapping happily away at a text message.

“What about you,” she snapped and Blaine kind of jolted, surprised at being addressed. She could forgive him. She was a lot of hot to take in and it was only fair that she would spread out her attention to others. “Would you know where Hummel is?”

“Kurt?” Blaine asked while his eyes went to Wes, who was still completely caught up in Santana’s cup size. He tucked his phone into his jacket pocket and leaned back, lacing his fingers over the front of one knee as he did so. “I don’t know if I should tell you.”

Ditching Wes in favor of a real challenge, Santana eased into the seat next to Blaine. He watched her every move with a little smile on his face, which she returned with a saucy little twist to her lips. The thigh she folded her fingers over was pretty thick – very nice – but he didn’t so much as blink while he turned to look at her.

“I’m just worried about him,” she told Blaine hotly, pressing close. “I haven’t heard from him in,” here, she let her hand scoot higher on his leg, “so long.

Blaine laughed lightly, ducking his head as he did so, and oh, Santana liked the sound of it. It sounded like something older boys did, like maybe this boy was a real mature type who knew how to really make a girl scream his name if he wanted to. She licked her lips; maybe visiting Dalton wasn’t a complete waste after all.

Boldly, she gave his thigh a squeeze and he caught her hand up in his at once, saying, “Okay,” with a drawn out o as he put her hand back on her own leg with a pat. “That’s enough of that.”

“Not nearly enough if you ask me,” she replied and leaned in so that she could speak directly into the shell of his ear. “So why don’t you just tell me where Kurt is and I’ll give you a big, wet 'thank you' kiss on the tip of your-”

His phone buzzed in his jacket pocket and Blaine jumped out of the couch to answer it, nearly slamming his shoulder into her jaw in his effort to get away. It’d be kind of flattering, really, if it didn’t piss her off so much. Didn’t people realize just how much easier it was to give in to the inevitable?

“Kurt!” Blaine said way too brightly into his phone. “You’ll never guess who’s here to see you!”

Blaine kept well away from Santana while they were waiting for Kurt to show. A pity, thought Santana, but there was always Sectionals to look forward to and in the meantime, the rest of the Warblers were more than happy to give her the attention she wanted. She kept an eye on him while she flirted, though. He fiddled with his phone while he paced, glancing toward the gathering of boys around her and to the door, and it was... It was actually kind of depressing how much restraint he obviously employed. Even though he laughed at the right times and smiled in the right ways, it was like he was wound up tight in all kinds of ways.

Then Kurt ducked into the room, shouting Santana’s name in fond disbelief before he enveloped her in a hug. Kurt looked good, which was great, and happy, which was even better, but Santana was kind of caught up in how Blaine just sort of sagged the moment Kurt had appeared.

She knew that look. She felt it every time she looked at Rachel and Finn or Sam and Quinn and how stupidly happy they looked together, and she realized then the mistake she’d made. Blaine looked tired, wanting and charmed all in one go, and his eyes hungrily ate up all the details of Kurt’s image, desperate for the hints that Kurt had to be giving out yet completely unable to act on them...

“Hey,” she cut in on Kurt’s excited ramble. “So I’m happy for you. This place is pretty much awesome.” She cupped his face and god, was he really her age? He looked so much younger. “You’ve got it good here, so you should know that what I’m about to do is completely out of the goodness of my heart and not some kind of charity.”

“Uh,” said Kurt.

She turned him on his heel and pushed him toward Blaine. “Get that shit.”
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