Author: ipickquinn & backitup_baby
Word count: 11,899
Summary: Things get a little wild at Santana's birthday party.
A/N: This fic was written by ipickquinn (as Quinn) and backitup_baby (as Santana and Artie)!
Sequel to: Just Finish Eating My Muffin So We Can Go | God Worked In Mysterious Ways | There's More To Life Than Orgasms
It was Santana’s birthday party (the big eighteen, what up!) and she, as always, was throwing a party hosted ever so kindly by her friend Mike Chang. Somehow between the two of them (and even Puck had stepped up and helped out) they got the Cheerios and football players to agree to just ignore the glee clubbers so Santana could celebrate with both of her social circles. As she had put it, ‘why waste time with harassment and stuff when you could just be getting drunk that much faster?’ Give or take a few swear words and some threatening looks from Puck.
Santana and Quinn had been ‘in a relationship or whatever’ (again, in Santana’s words) for about two weeks now and they were still keeping it under wraps. Brittany sometimes looked at them kind of curiously at Cheerios practice or at the lunch table and Santana was beginning to suspect Brittany of suspecting, but it still wasn’t the right time to tell people. Besides, that meant that they would have to tell their parents.
After extricating herself from a pretty drunk football player who kept talking about giving her ‘birthday loving’ (Santana knew that he was Puck’s new protogé, and apparently Puck had been encouraging him to follow in all of his Lima loser footsteps), she found Quinn in the kitchen nursing a drink. “Hey stranger, what are you doing over here?” she asked her girlfriend (that was still so weird to think about, let alone say out loud!), smiling confidently and also probably drunkenly at her.
Quinn knew it was Santana’s birthday and all but it didn’t give her an excuse to just let any random sleaze ball grope her like that when she was totally in a relationship already. So when it happened yet again Quinn removed herself from the situation before she marched over there and blew their whole gay girlfriend cover.
“Nothing. Glad to see you’ve remembered me again,” she said stubbornly then took another drink. As she had been pathetically hiding out in the kitchen she thought about a few things. Her best friend was a lot more experienced than her. Like, a lot. And usually Quinn was just happy, because hello multiple orgasms, but she was also kind of envious. The only other time she had had sex was the night Drizzle was conceived. And although sex was awesome, again hello multiple orgasms, she couldn’t help but be curious about what sex with a guy would be like. But it was really complicated because Santana was her best friend and now her girlfriend and she could already tell that she loved her so there was no way she was going to mess around on her (not that she would make that mistake again anyway). So she really had no choice but to sulk about it. Sulk about it and get drunk. “How’s your party?” She sneered.
“It’s good,” Santana said, immediately picking up on the fact that Quinn was pissed about something or another and deciding to tread carefully. She poured herself a tequila and orange juice, then turned so she and Quinn were standing next to instead of facing each other. That would be less suspicious, right? People were going in and out of the kitchen all the time. “What are you mad at me for?” she asked then, having a large sip of her drink and turning head to look over at Quinn.
Quinn polished off her drink and set the glass on the counter, not ready for another yet. She felt like this was turning out to be an angry kind of drunk and there really was no need to fuel the fire. “Do you even want to be with me? Because you have so many people here throwing themselves at you. Sex with a guy must be pretty awesome if you’re willing to openly flirt in front of your...” She trails off momentarily, not wanting to say the word ‘girlfriend’, though if anyone overheard this conversation that one word wouldn’t make a difference. “Just to score some.”
“If I didn’t want to be with you I wouldn’t be with you,” Santana said, after lowering her voice to an appropriate level (and because she was drunk, it came out as a really low whisper). “And I don’t want to score with those lame ass guys. I just like. I don’t get it. It’s not like we’re, y’know... I can’t just tell people to not want me, then people would like, know that something’s up, y’know?”
“But you would want to score with not lame ass guys?” Quinn asked, seeing as that was the most logical conclusion from what Santana had just said. At least to her after consuming a good amount of alcohol.
Santana really had no idea where all of this was coming from and it was a serious buzzkill. She took another healthy swig from her cup and leaned in a little closer, thinking in the back of her mind that it was funny how when they weren’t anything they wouldn’t think twice about being a little touchy feely while drunk but now that they were actually something, she felt like she couldn’t touch Quinn in public at all. “I only want to score with you. I don’t know what I’m supposed to do to make that clear to you...”
Now Quinn was just feeling guilty. But it wasn’t as if she wanted to score with any guy in specific, she just wanted to do it in general. Santana had done it loads, so she should at least get one good go at it, right? Except all she felt was guilty. “Okay... well, good to know.”
That didn’t sound very convincing. “You believe me, right?” Santana pressed, looking at Quinn kind of skeptically now. “I’m not going to like, fuck around. Okay?”
“Yeah, I’m sorry. I’m just... jealous. And drunk and stuff. I’m sorry. Just go have fun, okay?” Quinn said as she started working on making herself another drink. Now definitely wasn’t the best time to bring up her curiosity. They were both drunk, it was Santana’s birthday. No, that was just all kinds of bad. She mentally thanked God (which was so terrible in this situation) that she was at least clear headed enough to realize that.
Santana frowned a little, really not sure what to make of all of this, then shrugged. She didn’t think it was worth wasting her time worrying about Quinn being all weird if she wasn’t going to stop any time soon. “Are you going to come back to the party instead of like, exiling yourself? You aren’t going to be hoping I exile myself with you, right? Although I wouldn’t be opposed...”
“Maybe not until later,” Quinn said, smirking, then took a sip from her new drink. “I’ll stop being lame. Let’s go back out there, okay? I’m like, totally done being weird.” At least for the night.
“You better,” Santana said, moving so she was facing Quinn again. “Hey, maybe I should spill something on you so I can get you in a bathroom and take your shirt off,” she suggested then with a smirk.
“Why don’t I just splash a little water on my shirt? I don’t want you to ruin it. I actually like it,” Quinn said, a little too logically. “But.. yeah, that should totally happen,” she said quickly afterwards, once she got it.
“Definitely,” Santana said, reaching for a new cup and filling it about a fourth of the way with water before smirking warningly at Quinn for about, oh, five seconds, and throwing the water on her. “Yeah, you look hot-- Hi, Wheels, what are you doing here?”
Artie shrugged and glanced around before reaching for the bottle of vodka that was on the counter. “I needed a new drink,” he said, before scowling at the two Cheerios. “Mike and Tina are practically having sex and it’s disturbing.”
Even though she knew the water had been coming she still gasped when it hit her. At least it wasn’t as cold and stinging as a slushie. Plus Santana was going to strip her now so it was totally okay. What wasn’t totally okay was the fact that Artie was interrupting them. Only she felt bad for him.
“Fucking skank,” Quinn said automatically, then broke out into inappropriate laughter. “No she really is though. And like, sorry and stuff,” she said as she looked down at her wet shirt and delicately pulled the fabric away from her skin.
Artie finished pouring himself a drink, confused as to why Santana and Quinn had just started laughing at what Quinn had said. “I don’t get it,” he said mostly to himself, then downed about half of his cup. Kurt and Mercedes had basically had to drag him to this party, seeing as 1) it was Santana’s birthday party and he really didn’t like Santana that much, and 2) it was at Mike Chang’s god damn house. So he was getting drunk. “But, okay, I guess she is kind of a skank.” He paused again to have more of his drink, then asked, “Why’s your shirt all wet?”
“It’s a youtube video, don’t worry about it,” Quinn said as she began fanning her shirt in and out now to try and get drier since they clearly weren’t sneaking off to the bathroom right now. She looked down at the fabric once again when Artie pointed out its current state to her again. “Um. Santana spilled. Total accident.” She pretended to glare at Santana for good measures.
Santana nearly started giggling again when Quinn tried to glare at her, but got herself (somehow) under control again after a moment. “Yeah, we should go blot that out in the bathroom,” she said, smiling as sweetly as she could manage. “Besides, Wheels is staring at your tits.”
Artie’s eyes widened at that and he shook his head. “I am not. Why does everyone accuse me of staring at their boobs? It’s not my fault they’re more at eye level for me than people’s faces. I can’t help being in people’s grills.”
Quinn couldn’t control herself like her girlfriend had and ended up snorting at Santana and Artie’s exchange before looking down at her boobs. “Well it’s a good view, right? Better than that slut, Tina’s?” She looked to Santana first then down at Artie.
“I can’t really say I’ve ever looked at her boobs,” Santana said, before finishing her drink and reaching out to tug on Quinn’s hand. “Come on.”
“Yeah, actually,” Artie said, then made a ‘who, me? I didn’t say that’ kind of face. He figured Quinn had basically given him implicit permission to look, appraise, and compare, though, with that statement.
Quinn gave Santana an approving look and a wink as if she was saying ‘right answer babe’ though her face was quickly taken over by a look of surprise at Artie’s words. Well she had practically fed that answer to him.
When Santana grabbed her hand, she held onto it, though didn’t allow herself to be dragged off just yet. Artie looked absolutely pathetic. They couldn’t morally just leave him in this condition. Plus the way he was drinking, she was kind of worried he was going to get alcohol poisoning or something. “Maybe you’ve had enough to drink Artie,” she said cautiously.
“I have not had enough,” Artie corrected, though his head was feeling really woozy now. Maybe the third vodka and sprite drink hadn’t been a good idea... or the jello shots. “Besides, aren’t we supposed to be drinking?”
Santana looked disbelievingly at Quinn. “What are we supposed to do with him?” she asked quietly, raising her eyebrows.
Really, Artie was just sounding pathetic now, which is how Quinn knew he really needed to stop drinking. “You’re like, going to get alcohol poisoning...” she said slowly before turning to Santana, leaning in to whisper into the other girl’s ear. “Maybe he’ll pass out. Besides who would he tell? Who would believe him. He would get the show of a life... He’s just like, too pathetic to leave here.”
“So you’re saying we should like, take him with us and let him watch us hook up?” Santana asked, louder than she’d meant to, before blanching when she realized. “I mean.”
“You guys are going to hook up?” Artie asked, very cheerfully all of a sudden. “That’s cool. I think I am a Democrat.”
“I-- we-- I don’t know,” Santana stammered out, looking at Quinn for guidance.
Well so much for discretion. Though Artie was apparently so wasted that he wasn’t making any sense? “A democrat? Seriously, what?” Quinn asked, looking at him with narrow eyes before turning back to Santana, making a very conscious effort to lean in and whisper. “He already knows now. And it might make him feel better. He’s like, really depressed...” She pulled back and gave a half shrug.
Santana wasn’t that comfortable with this (though she did think it would be pretty hot, being watched), but she was able to understand that this was the only way she was going to be able to get Quinn to make out with her now instead of later. “Fine,” she said, frowning a little as she thought about where they could go. After having been to multiple parties at Mike’s house, she was kind of an expert. “We can go in the study or something,” she said finally. “It’s like in Atonement and stuff.”
Since Artie knew about them now, Quinn didn’t stop herself from nuzzling into Santana neck before pulling back and looking at Artie. “So are you coming with us or not?” He would be crazy to pass up this opportunity but she figured she may as well give him the choice.
Artie thought about his options, his eyes wide as he looked over at them. On one hand, he could stay and get progressively more drunk; Mercedes and Kurt would probably judge him. On the other hand, he could go and watch Santana and Quinn make out. “Yeah.”
Santana hesitated before choosing the door that didn’t lead to the living room, deciding that would just bring attention to themselves. She knew everyone would just assume she was hooking up with some guy so she didn’t really care about the fact that she was disappearing from her own party for a little bit, but hopefully people were drunk enough to fail at putting two and two together. “Here,” she said, closing the study door behind the three (what was she about to do?!) of them, before looking at Quinn. She was the ringleader or whatever of this, anyway.
Quinn double checked to make sure the door was locked; they really didn’t need to be walked in on during all this. Once she was reassured that it was locked though, she stalked up to Santana and snaked an arm around her waist. She smirked at Artie briefly then basically ignored him and leaned up, pressing her lips to Santana’s.
Santana followed suit, effectively ignoring Artie and the noise he’d just made (even though it had been a really funny noise) to pull Quinn closer to her, immediately deepening the kiss. “Your shirt’s still wet,” she mumbled after a moment, then pulled away and looked almost shyly over at Artie as though remembering he was there too. “It’s probably going to ruin mine. So you should take it off.”
“Yeah, I think so too,” Artie chimed in, still very cheerfully. “Just a suggestion.”
Fully embracing just how weird this totally was, Santana looked back over at Quinn. “You heard him.”
“Oh yeah, that was kind of the point of all this,” Quinn said giggling. How she had forgotten, she didn’t know. Maybe she was distracted by the fact that their classmate was totally watching them, and even giving input. “Fine,” she said with a smirk then peeled the damp shirt off, smirk again at Santana, then tossed it at Artie.
“Do you like the bra? I bought it special for you,” Quinn said, leaning in against Santana again and kissing her neck.
Santana had not been prepared for Quinn leaning into her like that and the slight change in weight combined with the alcohol plus heels she’d bought herself for her birthday caused her to stagger backwards, bringing Quinn with her as she broke her fall on Artie’s lap.
Quinn giggled and buried her face into the nearest part of Santana, which happened to be her boobs, and laughed for a good full minute before gaining control. “Santana, we’re going to crush him,” she said, still giggling. It took her a few more moments but she finally managed to push herself up, only to start laughing again when she noticed she was having some issues with her boobs staying in her bra. “Wardrobe malfunction.”
“It’s totally fine,” Artie said quickly, his gaze fixed on the top of Quinn’s breasts. He basically couldn’t believe his luck; had the two head Cheerios seriously just done that on top of him? “It’s not like I can feel them. My legs. You ladies can sit on them all you want to.”
Santana twisted around slightly to smirk at Artie. “You’re a perv,” she said, very decisively, before turning back to Quinn. “Artie says it’s fine...”
Quinn bit her lip and looked down at them both seductively. “Should I take it off? They don’t seem to want to be contained,” she said, giggling.
Santana was about to nod her immediate assent before realizing turned back around. “So we’re clear, this is just for tonight. And you’re not allowed to touch her. Okay? She’s my girlfriend, not yours.”
“Okay,” Artie said, ready to say anything if it meant he would get to see Quinn take her bra off as a result. “Wait. Girlfriend?”
“Yeah. Jealous?” Santana replied, though she’d gone back to facing Quinn again.
Artie shook his head a little. “No, that’s cool. I said I was liberal earlier.”
“You said you were a democrat--”
“Is this really the time?” Quinn interrupted. “I’d much rather take my bra off for you both but if you’d rather just bicker I’ll go take care of myself,” she continued on, stubbornly. She wasn’t used to being ignored so this was just so unusual. And really not okay. “And you know, S. You’re touching Artie right now. If I’m not allowed to touch him, neither are you. Even though it’s totally unfair since you’ve had sex with a bunch of guys and I haven’t.”
Santana narrowed her eyes and stood up carefully, one of her hands immediately going onto her hip. “You say that like you want to have sex with a bunch of guys.”
“I don’t,” Quinn said immediately. “You know how awesome I think sex is with you.” She bit her lip, debating whether to even say the next part but it was sort of the only opportunity she would get, most likely anyway, so decided to just go for it. “I’m just kind of... curious,” she finally said, quietly.
“You guys have had sex?” Artie asked, before Santana shushed him.
“Curious about what?” Santana asked, somewhat dangerously, still looking over at Quinn. “I’m pretty sure you’ve already had sex with a guy.”
Quinn moved closer to Santana, pushing her shirt up slightly so her hands could be on bare skin. “That was my first, and only, time. And it sucked. Don’t act like you don’t know how much I want to be with you. I’m just curious. But fine. Let’s drop it,” Quinn said, pouting.
“So you want to be with me but you also want to have sex with someone else?” That was all Santana was getting out of this. She didn’t even stop to think about how hypocritical she was really being because it wasn’t like she had never wanted to have sex with another person while she was in a relationship. But still. “You can’t just keep--” She cut herself off before she said anything really mean, even for her. “No one’s ever going to be as awesome as I am at it. So there.”
“It’s not like I want to do it a lot. I just want to try it. Now that I’m not all virginal and innocent and actually know about sex and stuff. And obviously I’m not just going behind your back or leaving you to do this. I want to be with you, which is why I’m being honest. I’m just fucking curious, okay? But fine, whatever. Artie will you give me my shirt back?” Quinn said, crossing her arms stubbornly.
Santana stared down at the ground for a moment before looking up resolutely at Quinn. “Okay. I’m dumping you. Go have sex with Artie and then we can go out again if I feel like forgiving you. He’s here already, totally already has a hard on to boot, and if you thought I was going to let you walk out of here and go get fucked by one of the guys on the team, well. There’s no way.”
“You can’t just volunteer me for sex like that,” Artie said, uncomfortably. “And I do not. I think the anger scared it away.”
“See, look, everyone’s against this plan,” Santana added, very business-like.
“I wasn’t going out there to get fucked by one of those guys. I was going out there to go home and wait until you’re sober so we could talk about this. But if you still want to dump me then fine. And you’re totally lying Artie, I can totally see your hard on. Now give me my shirt back,” Quinn demanded, tightening her arms around herself.
Not really knowing what else to do, Artie held his shirt out towards her, then said, “It’s not what it looks like. It’s the pleats. Really. The pleat of the pants.”
“You can’t go home, you’re drunk,” Santana added. “If you’re so curious why don’t you just try it out again? I’ll even tell you how to do it. That way you’ll know if you like it better than having sex with me.” Santana hadn’t meant to sound so petulant as she kept talking, but it just happened.
Quinn took her shirt from Artie though didn’t pull it on just yet, and instead focused on Santana. “You’re going to watch me have sex with someone and coach it? Can we just forget I even said I was curious and blame it on us being drunk tomorrow? Because this just got really fucked up really fast.”
“We could just all have sex,” Artie said to no one in particular. He figured he was drunk and might as well just push his luck. And that way he wouldn’t feel like he was just being used by the two of them in their weird relationship drama. Well, he’d feel less used than he would if Santana got her way and made Quinn have sex with him.
“I thought you didn’t want to,” Quinn said, rolling her eyes at Artie before looking at Santana, still waiting for her to respond. Though maybe her answer would be different now that Artie was apparently propositioning them for a threesome.
Santana looked sharply over at Artie, in effect silencing him with her glare, before turning a similar, less haughty, look back over at Quinn. “Yeah, well, I wasn’t the one who said they wanted to have sex with someone else,” she said, clearly unable to let that go. “I should be enough for you. Why am I not enough for you?” She was starting to get angry again and before she knew it she was kissing Quinn again, purposefully biting her lip hard as she did.
Having not expected that at all, Quinn let out a gasp into Santana’s mouth. She momentarily wanted to resist and take charge but knew that would probably be the worst thing to do in this situation. Instead she moved her hands back around Santana’s hips, sneaking them back under her shirt to grab onto her waist, all the while kissing her back just as roughly.
The longer they kissed the more it felt like things were getting back to normal between them for Santana so she let it go on for longer than she normally would have before breaking the kiss to finally catch her breath. “Seriously, I’m not going to offer again. If you want to try sex with a guy go ahead. Artie clearly wants us. Look at him. It’s kind of cute, actually.”
Quinn bit her lip nervously, though her reading of Santana was telling her that this was a genuine offer. And Artie did look really anxious and cute there. “Do we even have any condoms?” She finally asked, her voice shy.
Santana looked at Artie, who shook his head no. She sighed and pulled away from Quinn, then glanced down at herself to make sure she didn’t look too disheveled. “I am the best fucking girlfriend ever,” she told Quinn, authoritatively, before turning to leave the study to find some. “Don’t get ahead of yourselves while I’m gone. Quinn’s not getting knocked up again.”
Once Santana had left, Artie looked nervously at Quinn. “So... um, how long have you two been dating?” he asked, awkwardly, still not sure what was even happening or how this was real life.
Quinn watched Santana go, dazed for a long while before refocusing on Artie and his question. “Oh, um, it’s relatively new... I mean we’ve been best friends forever but then one day it just happened,” she said awkwardly and took a few steps towards him. “You know, it really isn’t the pleats, for the record.”
“Yeah, well,” Artie said, then swallowed nervously. “Don’t act like you’re not impressed.”
Quinn took a few steps closer until she was right in front of him then reached behind to her back and undid the clasp of her bra, letting it fall to the floor. “Don’t act like you’re not impressed,” she said quietly, before biting her lip and waiting for Artie’s reaction.
His eyes widened as soon as her bra slipped off of her shoulders and he stammered for a moment before finally regaining the power of speech. “I am definitely impressed,” he said, gesturing for her to come closer. “Your boobs are for sure nicer than Tina’s.”
At first she was unsure of how she could really get closer, but Quinn finally managed to step with one leg in between Artie’s so her shin was right against the chair and the other on the other side of Artie’s leg, so she would have been straddling him if she weren’t standing up. It was kind of awkward positioning but not a lot of things were making sense now so she didn’t dwell too much on it. Instead she just looked down at him and waiting for him to make the next move.
Artie took a deep breath and placed his hands on her waist. He left them there for a moment, getting used to the feel of her skin, before beginning to move them slowly up and down her sides. “Lean down so I can kiss you,” he said then, staring up at her.
Quinn was a little apprehensive about this. Santana had told them not to get too ahead of themselves, which meant already be having sex when she got back, so just kissing now would be okay right? She deliberated a moment before deciding this would be okay then nodded and leaned down so her face was level with Artie’s. She literally was going to wait until he kissed her, so she just looked at him as she waited. This was all pretty surreal though, and Artie seemed really gentle about all this so in an odd way all of this was working out well.
Santana let herself back into the study just then, a condom tucked into her bra, and glared at them both. “What the fuck is this?” she asked, legitimately bewildered by the fact that Quinn and Artie seemed to just be having a staring contest instead of doing anything to each other. “Quinn, just get it started already.”
Startled slightly by Santana’s voice, she looked over at her girlfriend and straightened up slightly. “Will you come here first, please?” Her voice was way too timid and it just wasn’t how she was at all but she was sort of walking on egg shells here and didn’t want to piss her off further.
“What do you want?” Santana said, her voice still a little harsh, but she walked over to Quinn anyway and, out of habit, wrapped her arms around her waist. “Do you want a kiss for good luck or something admittedly kind of cute like that?”
Still awkwardly straddling Artie’s leg, Quinn twisted at the waist so she could face Santana better then raised a hand to cup the side of the other girl’s face. “No, I just wanted a kiss in general,” she said quietly before leaning in for just that.
Santana closed her eyes for a moment as she pulled away from the kiss, then turned her head to whisper in Quinn’s ear. “I don’t really want to dump you but you’re freaking me out right now,” she said. “This is just. I don’t want to lose you.”
Quinn gave another soft kiss before whispering back, “You won’t,” she said gently then gave another peck. “I just--You have a lot of experience. And I don’t. And I want to be good for you. And I won’t lie and say I’m not curious for my own reasons too, but I’m--you’re not going to lose me.”
When Quinn had called Santana over to them both, Artie had decided he needed to do something to take his mind off of how ridiculously turned on he was while they sorted out their messed up relationship. Since he’d been given permission to touch Quinn (and he definitely wasn’t going anywhere near Santana unless she specifically said he could), he surreptitiously moved his hands down onto the leg she’d wedged between his and, starting right above her knee, brought them both slowly higher.
Meanwhile, Santana was frowning again but a little less severely than she had been earlier. “I’m still mad at you,” she said. “But go ahead. Do you want me to like, go or something?”
Quinn gasped slightly at what Artie’s hands were doing up her bare thigh but kept herself focused on Santana. “No I don’t want you to go. Do you want to go? I won’t do anything you don’t say is okay. I want you to trust me on this. It’s not going to make me want you any less.” She looked down slightly, feeling nervous again.
“It’s my fucking birthday,” Santana complained, before noticing that Artie’s hands were disappearing up her girlfriend’s skirt. “Hey, good for you, though, finally taking the initiative,” she told him, then brought her attention back to Quinn. “I guess I can stay and help him fuck you,” she added, trying not to show that just saying that kind of actually turned her on.
“Are you already wet thinking about it?” Quinn asked once she detected a tiny crack in Santana’s facade. She mimicked Artie’s lead and started running a hand up the other girl’s thigh until her fingertips were at the edge of Santana’s underwear. “I think you are.”
“You took your bra off, of course I am,” Santana bluffed, her knees buckling a little embarrassingly at the brief contact. She leaned down and steadied herself on Artie’s shoulder. “If we’re going to do this can we at least go to the floor or something?”
“Move from the bed down to the down to the to the flo’,” Artie commented. “Yeah. We should.”
Quinn snorted slightly at Artie’s brief quoting of a really dirty song, (because who knew that a nerd like him listened to music like that?) then withdrew her hand from under Santana’s skirt and stepped away from Artie, delicate with her footing so she wouldn’t fall over. “On the floor, then,” she said, smirking at Artie.
“You guys are about to see something really awkward,” Artie said in response to the smirk, fully aware that he hadn’t mastered the act of looking slick while doing this. When they had moved out of the way, he leaned forward and more or less pushed himself out of his chair, landing in front of it.
Once Artie was on the floor, which really had been an interesting thing to watch, Quinn gave Santana a smirk then lowered herself down to kneel beside him. “Have you ever done this before, Wheels?”