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Tina’s costume creation party has a low attendance. Actually, for the first half hour it’s just her and Kurt. And Kurt’s not even working on his Give Up The Funk outfit. Apparently he already owns a brass coloured jacket and red jeans. Neither article particularly surprises Tina. Between herself, Mercedes and Kurt they probably own every interesting article of clothing in Lima.
She’s not even upset by lack of bodies in her mom’s sewing room. This isn’t like a few weeks ago, when all the boys were too cowardly to be Monsters, and Rachel finally found something her dads gay magic couldn’t do, and Santana and Brittany got their costumes professionally done because they couldn’t be bothered to create their own. The rest of Glee isn’t absent this time because they don’t care, or are terrified that they want to care. Everyone’s not here because they’re busy searching their wardrobes for the theme colours, or prowling the mall.
Except, apparently Santana and Brittany have learned their lesson about how damn crafty she and Kurt are, because they show up and offer her a hundred bucks to make them something hot. Tina would make a sweatshop joke, but if they don’t laugh she’ll have to call them out on their racism. That didn’t go well when Sue did it to Schue, and Glee doesn’t need another blowup. They need to focus, so they can make Vocal Adrenaline cry into their monogrammed handkerchiefs.
The offer has hung in the air for about three seconds when one of their phones buzzes. Kurt reaches for his first, and immediately starts composing a text, so evidently it was his.
“Sorry Tina, I have to go.”
“So soon?”
“Mercedes went shopping with Mike and Matt with our colours in mind. From what she’s told me they both want fancy hats, which is not her specialty.”
Tina nods, because what else can she do? “I’ll see you tomorrow then.”
Kurt folds the jeans he was gluing gems to and tucks them under his arm before standing. In a better world Tina’d be getting a hug and a kiss on the cheek, as is the nature of a fag/fag hag relationship. In this world, Kurt’s pretty much conditioned himself out of showing any sort of affection. He just gives her a jaunty wave before leaving the room to let himself out. Tina’s alone with Santana and Brittany, and suddenly the vibe seems much different.
“Oh, don’t look so bummed out. Now we can talk about what we really want without Mr Prim flailing.”
Tina wonders how sexy Santana’s mental wardrobe is that she thinks it’ll disturb Kurt. Maybe something like the lace unitard she wore for Gaga? Although to be fair to her, Kurt’s pretty prudish, and it doesn’t take much to make Santana look hot. Existing, basically.
“Okay? What hot look do you have in mind, Santana?”
She shrugs and flaps a hand. “Don’t care. That’s what I’m paying you for. As long as I look hot enough that St James feels like less of a man because he knows he’ll never get this. Also I want to wear my hair fucking down. So a bandana or something.”
Tina’s already got some ideas. She won’t even have to measure Santana, she’s gotten extremely good at eyeballing approximate size since she started going to that weekend street vendor thing with Kurt. You can’t exactly try something on in the middle of the sidewalk with a dozen people watching. But before she gets too carried away with her ideas for Santana, she needs to ask the other girl the same.
“So what were you thinking Brittany?”
“Rope.”
Well, okay, that’s not what she was expecting. Still, Tina can probably make something work. Maybe Brittany means piping, and she just doesn’t know that word. “Do you have any idea about how it would look?”
“How what would look? Some dinosaurs have three eyes, and bats look with their ears.”
It says terrifying things about the state of the educational system that Tina could actually spend time now explaining that she meant a different meaning of ‘look’. “Your outfit,” she says patiently.
Brittany shrugs.
“You must have at least a little idea about what you want to do with the ‘rope’.”
“I want to be tied up.”
While she’s trying to process that bundle of words, Santana drops down on the couch beside Tina and curls a hand over her shoulder. “So here’s the thing, Tina. I like sex, but I’m not kinky. I think sex is bodies touching. No shame on the people that need more, but it’s not my thing. Brittany on the other hand, is totally kinky. She’s being very very literal right now. That’s basically all of what she’s thinking.”
“Why ask me?” Even if Santana doesn’t want to do any kind of bondage, surely Puck is kinky enough.
“I can’t do it, she wants it, and you’re available. Also you’re hot. Do we need more reason than that?”
The thing is, they totally don’t. At the base of it, getting kinky with Brittany sounds like a great way to spend a Wednesday evening. But there are practical questions Tina needs to ask, instead of just letting her baser nature run wild.
“Okay, say I was okay with cheating on Artie-”
Santana rolls her eyes and spits out “please.”
“What,” Tina demands. “I know you don’t believe in monogamy, but-”
Brittany shakes her head so fast Tina thinks it might fall off. “Everyone knows lady sex isn’t cheating.”
“Besides, if it bothers you that much don’t have sex with her, just help her.”
Ignoring the cheating dilemma, Tina moves on to practical question number one. “Did you even bring any rope?”
“No?” Brittany blinks at her, genuinely confused. Tina can’t feel too guilty, it’s Brittany’s default expression.
“Then I don’t understand how-”
“Look, this is how it usually goes. Brittany tells a boy she wants something. They trip over themselves trying to get it.When it’s something kinky they do it at double the speed.”
“I’m not a guy.”
“No, you’re a hot bicurious goth girl, and if you’re telling me you don’t have chain somewhere in your Hot Topic closet I will literally die from shock.”
Tina hates that Santana is right. But if she doesn’t admit it they’ll probably go away. She kinda thought she wouldn’t get to experiment until college. Passing this up to falsely prove Santana wrong totally isn’t worth it.
“I’ve got this belt...”
“Fantastic. Hot Topic to the rescue! Go get it.”
It’s not from Hot Topic. The vast majority of Tina’s clothes aren’t. She likes to make things, same as Kurt, even if their aesthetics are completely different they can appreciate each other’s skill. But there’s no use in explaining that to either of them.
The belt in question didn’t start off as clothing. When they dismantled the old playground a block from her house her older brother dragged part of the swingset home with him, planning to rebuild it in their backyard. Like every other DIY project Taylor’s ever imagined, he got as far as putting the pieces in the garage. Eventually Tina spent the morning hacksawing the chain and boiling it to sterilise it from the thousands of tiny snotty hands that have been on it over the years. Once she attached a carabiner to one end it became a great multi-purpose item.
Coming back into the room she can’t help but notice there’s a pair of Cheerio red underwear on the hardwood floor. So much for things not getting sexual. Although, maybe it’s just part of the whole situation for Brittany. Tina doesn’t know, she’s never done anything like this before. And they’re not doing anything else sexual, just standing together in the middle of the room.
Santana glances at her. After making eye contact with Tina she switches her gaze to Brittany. “Brit, what’s your ‘no, stop’, word?”
“Tubbington,” she answers like it’s the most obvious thing in the world. “He’ll make bad stuff stop.”
Santana turns on her. “If you make her say that, you stop. And if you don’t stop, you’ll wish your parents never found what’s left of your corpse.” Despite herself, Tina swallows hard and nods. Santana can be downright scary sometimes. Santana glares at her long enough to be certain she’s gotten her point across before turning back to her sometimes girlfriend. “Brit, I’m gonna go now. Come find me when you need lady kisses.”
“Okay San.”
Tina looks at the chain coiled around her hand and wrist and then at the Cheerio still in the room. Just like the costume thing, there are several ideas that spring to mind. All of them involve Brittany on her knees. “You should kneel, Brittany.”
She does, without even a moment’s hesitation, and looks happy about it.
With Brittany actually on her knees all Tina’s ideas float away to leave just the simplest. She positions Brittany’s arms at her sides and circles her at the wrists, then hooks the carabiner tight enough that the chain digs in a little. It’s not perfect. Brittany could probably get her hands out. It’s just unlikely that she’d try. Not when she specifically asked for this, and not when she’s got that look on her face. It’s an obscenely hot expression, made all the better by being certain that it’s not an act. Being tied up in chains really does make Brittany feel good.
Tina figures what the hell. This is already cheating. No one could look at the chain on Brittany’s torso and the expression on her face and think it wasn’t sexual. Might as well get off on it. She takes a few steps closer to Brittany and tucks the hem of her skirt into the waistband before plunging her fingers inside herself. Brittany’s face is close enough that she’s staring intimately. It’s something Tina’s used to. She and Artie don’t have sex, but there’s a lot of mutual masturbation. They both like to watch.
She can’t climax. Tina’s turned on, loving everything about this, but she can’t quite reach that point. It’s the guilt. Not about the cheating, because honestly, with the way Glee is one of them was bound to. It doesn’t seem fair that Brittany’s not getting any sensation. Mutual masturbation is great because it’s mutual. Tina kneels in front of Brittany for a second and thinks. There’s still a bunch of chain left, Tina cut it so that it could wrap twice, or with some creative twist tying dangle like a wallet chain. There’s more than enough to part Brittany’s labia and arrange the chain down the centre of her before pushing the skin back together.
“Clench down. I want you to hold this up.” Tina pulls her hand away from her pubic mound. The chain doesn’t clank to the floor. It figures that every muscle in Brittany’s body is well trained.
Tina stands up once more, and after she starts to touch herself she starts to talk. She knows she has a dirty mind, and she wants Brittany to hear it. “Can you feel each link? I bet you can. I bet those cold hard ovals are just pressing everywhere, exactly where you want.”
Tina nudges her foot against Brittany’s cunt and presses up. Brittany starts rocking back and forth, face half desperate and half completely serene. It’s an expression Tina’s never seen before, but if that’s what BDSM gives people it’s strong incentive to try it out from the other end.
Brittany drops forward when she comes, almost all her weight on the bottom half of Tina’s leg. She’s silent through the entire thing, but the way her bound body is shaking makes Tina want to scream. So she gives her a clit a few more passes, enough to make the cry tear from her throat.
By herself Tina can come a few times. With Artie she’s gotten used to only doing it the once so he doesn’t start getting weird inadequacy issues. Brittany’s a girl though so she probably could. Tina just doesn’t want to. That was kind of exhausting, in a way that jerking off with Artie isn’t.
Tina pulls the wet chain from Brittany’s cunt and then unclips the part retraining her arms. “You should go find Santana now. I bet she’s watching TV in the living room.”
The thing is, Tina realises as she untucks her skirt and sits with the yellow shirt she was embroidering before all this happened, is that she’s kinda fucked. While there might be a repeat performance, it’ll never be permanent. Brittany belongs to Santana, for all that she might not be interested in owning her. It might be another guy, or it might be her that Santana calls on again, but it’ll only ever be for this one facet of Brittany’s needs. Artie too will never go for it. Either side of it. Enjoying this is pretty much the death knell of their relationship. Maybe not this month, maybe not until Christmas. But one day she’s going to want to play with chains again, and Artie will say no, and that’ll be the end of it.
Still, she doesn’t regret it. She knows a little more about herself than she did a day ago, and knowledge is never a bad thing.