Chapter 17 – Pinky Promise
You've managed to get here. You've made it. You don't quite remember how exactly you got here, the details are blurry but you're determined to get this out of the way, for her more than anything. You're just standing outside the door, looking at it, you have the worst headache ever, your temples are aching, spreading the pain to the rest of your head, like a constant reminder of your stupidity. Stupidity for taking more pills than you should, but they got you here at least. You don't feel any different, not really, only headaches. Everything else seems the same; you feel like you're walking around like a zombie, derived of thought or emotion, except when you're with her, you're always alive when you're with Brittany. You're not stupid though, you don't know the risks or even how long it takes for the pills to kick in, you think it's a few weeks but somehow you feel better taking more on days when things might get on top of you. Today for example is a 'four day', you took four pills this morning, yesterday was also a four because it was a Monday. The rest of the days are the usual one you should be taking, but sometimes you take two, maybe three but never more than four. The headaches are the worst on four days.
You're standing outside your apartment, well, you guess it's now just Sam's apartment, you used to call this place home, hell a few weeks ago you called this place home and now you're going to knock on the door like you're a goddamn stranger. You're already living somewhere else with someone else, everything's moving too fast. You feel like you're going in the right direction but just too damn fast, you wish your life had a pause button. You laugh bitterly at the thought; perhaps a reverse button would be more appropriate. Sometimes you feel like maybe the stop button would be the best one to press.
You knock your knuckles gently against the door, half-hoping that nobody will answer or hear. You hear footsteps and your stomach sinks. The front door to your former home opens and your former fiancé is now standing in front of you.
Your mouth falls open a little - he basically looks like shit. Sam's standing lifelessly in front of you, eyes swollen and tired, now long hair unwashed and hanging horribly around his depressed pale face, his once five o'clock shadow now turning into a matted looking beard on his face.
"Santana" he gapes, his eyes coming to life. He seems surprised to see you.
"Hi" you try smiling weakly, "Uhm, can I come in?"
"Uh-" he stutters, clearly still not quite grasping that you're actually here in front of him, "s-sure come on in" he replies, moving out of the way and motioning through the threshold for you to enter.
You walk by him feeling awkward and you just stand in the living room, not feeling worthy to sit down in this place anymore, in his place.
"Uh, you trying a new look?" you ask and give a nervous laugh as he comes in after you. His hair is so long now it tucks behind his ears slightly, you've never seen him look so different.
He just shrugs and frowns at you, not looking angry but more just sad, dejected. "What're you doing here?"
"I…I don't know to be honest" you admit quietly.
"Your sweater looks weird," he mumbles.
"Oh." You feel your cheeks warm because you're wearing the lizard sweater Brittany made for you, but he doesn't need to know that. You decide to quickly bite the bullet and quickly say what you have to. "Look, I left a few things here I think, I also feel like I left here so quickly and you must've had questions"
He laughs at you, not a friendly laugh but a cutting and bitter laugh. A hollow deep laugh like he's mocking you. "My supposed to be wife was sleeping with another woman, what more is there to ask?"
You recoil and look away feeling embarrassed, ashamed and indignant all at the same time.
"I didn't sleep with her," you almost whisper, "not when we were together"
You dig your nails so hard into your palms at your wayside because you feel so sick and discomfited talking about this.
He flicks his hair to the side and glares at you, "well that just makes all the difference then doesn't it?" he says, his tone short and dry.
"I'm sorry" you mumble and almost shrivel away from him. "I thought that coming here and explaining myself might make it easier for you, and for you to know that none of this was your fault"
"Easier for me?" he repeats and gives another dry laugh. "Easier for you Santana, you don't give a shit about me-"
"That's not true" you interject.
"So, you want to talk about it? Fine, let's talk about it" he says, his tone and stance morphing into a more confrontational one. He motions his hand at the couch. "Sit"
You clear your throat and clutch at your handbag not sure what to do, but after hesitating you walk around slowly and slump down. Sam sits in the chair opposite you and just looks at you expectantly.
"I'm so sorry, I didn't mean for this to happen" you say quietly. "I just wanted to feel better, I wasn't even going to see a damn therapist but Quinn recommended me and I thought it would be nice just to have a person to talk to and dump all my crap on, I thought it would be therapeutic you know? I thought it would make our relationship better too. I…I didn't plan on that person being Brittany"
Sam's eyes look watery and he blinks, his eyes flickering away for a moment before they're right back glaring at you. "Are you in love with her?"
You stutter not expecting the brashness of his question, you swallow not knowing what to tell him.
"It's an easy enough question Santana," he states, like he's getting impatient with you.
You feel your heart compress in your chest and a tear falls from your eye as you nod slowly at him. "Yes" you say shakily, "I haven't told her but yes, I'm in love with her"
He nods and looks down and then a long awkward silence descends on the room.
You hear the floorboards creak and the boiler in the kitchen hum away, there's also distance noises of the city floating in through the window.
"I'm sorry," you say again eventually. "I love you though Sam"
His eyes soften and he looks more confused than touched, "why are you telling me that? To rub it in my face?"
"No" you shake your head, "I've always loved you it's just…I think…I've come to realize that maybe there's a difference loving someone and being in love with someone"
"So," Sam says slowly, "were you ever in love with me then, huh Santana?"
Deep down you think you know the answer to that question but you choose a more tactful answer. "I honestly don't know anymore" you shrug and wipe away under your eyes.
He shakes his head in disappointment and looks to the floor once more. "How did it happen?" he mumbles, looking more interested in his shoes.
"I…I'm not sure" you say honestly, "It just sorta happened over time. When I first met her she scared me in a way I still can't fully understand, she made me uncomfortable and nervous, yet I always wanted more, I always wanted to go back to her to feel that way over and over again. We flirted, I think, but it never technically got to a stage when we were doing anything"
You fiddle with your fingers and look down, you know that's not entirely true but you guess it technically is. Sam doesn't need to know about the motorcycle incident, or the lap dance incident, or the blue note under the table incident, or the changing room incident. Or any other incident.
"So, when did she kiss you? Was it good? Was she better then me?" Sam asks and his tone is a little more demanding, like he's desperate for an answer that you feel he already knows.
"When I went back down to Tennessee-"
"Hold on, that time when you wanted to go to the ranch, that wasn't about your new counselor at all was it?" he asks and seems angry. Then he shakes his head at himself, "shit, how stupid am I?"
You feel guilt simmer in your stomach. "I just missed her, and I was the one that kissed her first, that weekend when I went to see her. I didn't plan on it, it just happened."
He flips his hand away in an impatient manner, "I just don't understand how this happened, I don't get it…you're not gay. You're confused about your feelings but we can still get by this Santana"
You stare at him; shocked, angry and hurt all at the same time. When you tell yourself you're not gay it seems like a legitimate conclusion to come to, when you tell yourself you're confused it seems rational, but all of a sudden coming from someone else, coming from him it just irks you and doesn't seem to ring true.
You suddenly stand up. "How dare you," you say flatly.
"Look Santana," Sam begins defensively and stands up too, he comes over so he's in front of you and looking into your eyes with a determination you've never quite seen from him before. "I'm sure you love this girl and all but we were together, we're engaged! We've been in love since high school, now suddenly you want to have sex with another woman? This is insane, this isn't you"
What is you anymore?
He's talking like your relationship with Brittany is silly, just because she's a woman the same as you.
You try steadying your breathing which is getting more rapid with rage the more he speaks. "Sam, I know you're hurting right now, and as hard as it was, I don't regret leaving you. I don't regret doing anything with Brittany. We…we're together now…she's my girlfriend"
You hear the word escape your mouth and it echoes awkwardly around the room. It still sounds so weird to you. Your Girlfriend.
"You cannot be serious" Sam says looking more frustrated as he shakes his head frantically.
"Also how dare you, just because I'm not sure what or who I am anymore doesn't give you the right to fucking dictate and tell me who I am. Cause the truth is I haven't felt like myself since high school, and even then I felt like I was just trying to fit in. I've been unhappy for a long time, unsettled…and I feel like I'm just beginning to find out why so don't you even try to say that this is a fucking phase or that what I feel isn't somehow as real or as fucking valid, because it is fucking real, it's so real Sam, what I feel for Brittany is so huge and monumental that by comparison…" you trail your words and look at Sam, his face has crumbled but he still has a stubborn frown creasing his brow.
"Just tell me," he says and his voice is weak with defeat. "Make me understand, how can she, a stranger, make you happier than I make you? How can she kiss you and make love to you like I do? I don't get it. I've known you longer, I've been there for you, how can she possibly make you happier? Why? What has she got that I haven't? Tell me what it is!"
Sam's not usually one for shouting but he yelled the last part out and it frightens you a little. You're not scared of him; just more scared of the lengths you've pushed him to.
You stare at Sam as thoughts and feelings about Brittany swirl around your head. Articulating how you feel about Brittany and the difference between when you're with her and when you're with him is hard, but you understand he needs an answer so you gulp and nod slowly, buying some time to think of something to say.
"I…" you start and sigh but you're already overwhelmed with feelings. You clear your throat and continue, "I feel like I'm more myself around her-"
"You can be with me too!" Sam interjects desperation lacing his voice.
You hold up a hand, "please let me finish" you say quietly and he just stares at you. "I feel like I'm more myself around her, not that I'm not myself around you it's just I'm the closest thing to being me more so around her, if that even makes freakin' sense," you shrug a little. "I think about her all the time, even when she's not around. I want to kiss her all the time, but not just out of habit or because I feel the need to" you pause and look at Sam and he looks hurt. "And not only because I want to feel the softness of her lips or those eyes on me, all that is wonderful but because I feel like I'm giving her a piece of myself each time I do. I feel like there's literally no other fucking way to tell her or show her how beautiful and amazing she is. She's perfect" you whisper, afraid you've said too much already but the words keep spilling from your mouth. "You have no idea the control she has over me, she throws me the simplest of looks and I'm dead and already on my way to heaven, I've never felt like that with us Sam. We never had that intensity, not really, but when she touches me my body goes weak and-"
"OK, I fucking get it!" Sam snarls and takes a step back from you like you're somehow diseased now.
"You're the one that wanted an explanation, I'm giving you one," you say calmly. "She makes me very happy Sam, I didn't think this level of happiness was possible. I'm so in love with her that I don't even want to go to sleep at night because she's lying there draped over me and I can't breathe, I don't want to sleep because she makes me feel like my life is better than a dream anyway"
"So you're a lesbian?" Sam asks with a strange normality, crossing his arms in preparation for the answer.
You flinch at the word.
"I…I don't know. I get all panicky thinking about it, why do I have to be anything? Why do people need to label things? I…I'm working on coping with all this better but don't ask me that because I honestly don't know the answer"
"You're the love of my life Santana" Sam says and his eyes are watery. You feel your heart clench horribly. "I've never been interested in anyone else, you know that, how am I supposed to get over this?" he blubbers out and tears start streaming down his face.
You're instantly reminded of when he was 16 and his dog Rolo died, you hated that dog but he didn't go to high school for a week after that, and that was only his beloved dog, what if he doesn't get over this? You've destroyed his life.
"How?" he asks again slamming his palms over his eyes, his body heaving in deep sobs.
"I don't know, I'm so sorry" you whisper, your voice shaking as your own tears threaten to fall again. He can't stop crying and part of him is trying to stop and look away from you like he doesn't want you to see him like this and it breaks your heart. "Come here" you say quietly and open your arms, offering him a hug.
He stops crying and just throws his arms around you; you stumble back by his force but manage to keep on your toes. He begins mumbling things into your side, asking how he's supposed to get over you, telling you that he loves you and all you can do is stand here like an idiot and ineptly place your hands around his sides.
When did you both become so weird together?
You and Sam didn't hug very often, not like this, but something begins to dawn on you. As much as you feel awful about it, as much as this hug is reassuring somewhat in the sense that maybe he doesn't completely hate you, it's sort of nothing compared to hugging Brittany. You wonder why you never noticed before or was it because you had nothing to compare it to? When Brittany hugs you, your knees go weak, your heart jumps up to your throat, and you take in her eyes and the smell of a skin and perfume. It's always so much more than just a hug. Now you're just standing here and your hands aren't tingling touching Sam's sides, you aren't inhaling with a desperation to have more of him, you're just standing here awkwardly hugging him as he tells you things and you're not even listening. He smells like alcohol and you wonder if he's been drinking this morning, you don't want him to go down this path, ruin his own life just because you couldn't figure out yours.
"This can't be over" he says pulling back and suddenly his hands are cupping your cheeks.
"Sam, don't" you shake your head, a weak and sad feeling in your heart.
His large lips suddenly cushion your own forcefully and you close your eyes and let it happen. You're not entirely sure why but you let him kiss you. It only lasts for the briefest of moments and your lips twitch back in response but it doesn't take your breath away, it doesn't leave your thoughts in a blissful mush like Brittany's does, it's just a kiss. It literally means nothing to you and you wonder if it ever did, you're sad that it means nothing in a way. You shake your head and pull away.
"You kissed me back, this must mean something," he says and you feel awful because you can hear the sheer blind hope in his tone.
"Sam, I'm sorry, I…I didn't feel anything"
"Then why did you kiss me back?" he demands
"I don't know, I barely kissed you-"
"You know what? Forget it. I don't need you, get out" he says flatly, doing a complete 180.
"What?" you ask taken aback.
"You heard. Get out!"
You stand for at least a minute trying to work out what's going on and even try remembering a time you've seen him so hostile. You can't remember a time. He just looks so mad and hurt; you've probably made things worse so before you make it even more worse you nod silently and take your leave.
You don't know why you're crying.
You leave the apartment building in a daze and try lightening the lump in your throat but it's only half-working and by the time you're halfway to Brittany you're no longer crying at all. A thing you've noticed being on the meds; the cries are few and far between and even when they do come, they don't last long. You feel like that should be a good thing but a part of you feels it's strange, wrong even. You feel so guilty and hurt and stupid, then you just feel confused because for a second you wanted to kiss Sam back but you're not sure why, it definitely wasn't a sexual or even romantic thing, but you still felt like you owed him that much. You also have the strange sensation that'll be one of the last times you'll ever see him again. Brittany was right in the sense that this was closure but it wasn't satisfactory at all, he still hates you and in your naive mind you were hoping for his forgiveness, maybe even his blessing.
You no longer even have to try hard to regain your composure and instead find yourself making your way to room 47 with such relief and clarity. For the past two weeks Brittany has been working overtime saying she has lots of paperwork to catch up on, and also squeezing in more appointments than usual to make up for the upcoming trip to Tennessee. You've been left to make the dinner and walk Lucy most nights and you've enjoyed doing both, Brittany gave you some lame speech about how walking helps with depression because of endorphins or something. The truth is though, sadly, you and Brittany haven't spent much time together the last week, and you really need to see her, so you make your way to room 47, making sure to text her and let her know you're on your way beforehand.
When you arrive it's almost 7pm and Brittany's still working away. Kurt isn't manning the station as usual and the lights are almost all out. You smirk to yourself remembering the last time you were here when it was afterhours and dark out.
"Hey Britt," you say in relief as you open the door and close it behind you.
Even just seeing her is a ray of light in your day.
She's sitting behind her desk, wearing an adorable light pink tank top under a cool sky-blue denim jacket. It matches her eyes. Her hair is up in a lazy bun with some wisps of loose blonde hair hanging around her face, she has the softest looking hair you've ever seen. "Mhmm" she hums something incoherently back in response, not looking up to greet you. She's shuffling through papers and looks entirely immersed in her work.
You smile as you just sit down on the sofa (a new blood-red sofa after Brittany informed you she had to get a new one), your cheeks almost go just as red when you think about that sofa and what happened on it. Then you shudder because you feel embarrassed. You rub your forehead as it pounds away, paracetamol helps but you forgot to put some in your bag this morning. You shake your head and try forgetting about the annoying pain lingering away beneath.
"Hi" you say again with a barely subdued smile. "You should stop working and come over and kiss me"
You have no idea where that came from but you're so damn happy to see her you want her right now.
She stops what she's doing and looks up from her desk. Her weary eyes light up and she smiles at you. You're learning more and more about her but you're also noticing little details too. She has many smiles but the one she's shooting your way now is by far your favorite smile. It's the one where her eyes glow a little and one corner of her mouth tugs up slowly, like a smirk almost – you never quite know what she's thinking when she gives you that smile.
She sighs audibly and gets up; abandoning her paperwork sprawled messily across her desk. She walks over and quickly slumps down next to you. She slides her hand down your arm, rubbing the snuggly cotton of your sweater against your skin in a way you find enormously relaxing, and slips her hand into yours, giving it a little squeeze. She lifts her legs up and tucks them in looking at you with a gracious smile.
It's only moments like these that you remember just how much she affects you. She's holding your hand, for the fifth time now you think and it swells your heart and melts your thoughts just the same as it did the first time. Maybe you should stop counting.
"Hi" she giggles shyly.
"Hi," you smile dopily back.
"I know I've been busy with work recently but it's not for long, soon we'll have two weeks in Tennessee mostly all to ourselves, I promise" Brittany grins and you can see the genuine excitement in her voice and in the glimmer of her eyes.
"I know Britt" you sigh and squeeze her hand back. Your palm begins to feel clammy and your heartbeat speeds up. As for your brain, well, when she touches you, your brain processing skills are reduced by at least 50%. You've forgotten what you wanted to talk to her about. Her eyes are so blue and she smells like a bakery store.
"Is it weird I miss you though?" she asks quietly and she has her head bowed in the cutest, coyest manner.
"What do you mean?" you smile at her.
"Uhm," she hesitates and her thumb starts stroking casually up and down the side of your own like it's as natural to her as breathing. You can hardly think. You can barely feel your headache. "It's just I know you're living at my place now but I still miss you. Like I leave for work in the morning, and as soon as I get here I miss you already. Sorry if that sounds weird, I've never really missed anyone before as much as I find myself missing you and-"
You cut her off by leaning over quickly and pressing your lips firmly against hers.
She makes a cute squeal of surprise, her words turning into mumbled noises against your lips. You smile into the kiss and let go of her hand, running both up her sides until you cup both her cheeks in your hands. Your lips are buzzing and you feel giddy because she's smiling softly against yours too, she parts her lips and you eagerly take the opportunity and enter her mouth with your tongue. God she feels so amazing. You move your hand to under her chin and tilt her head up gently so you can dip deeper into her. You kiss her harder finding it hard to breathe, licking your way into her mouth, exploring every crevice. Her tongue moves like velvet under your own that causes excitement to simmer in your lower stomach.
You then find yourself climbing excitedly further up onto the couch until you're kneeling beside her. Your head above hers, your lips hovering over her lips until you lean your forehead down onto hers gently, your tongue dipping furiously in and out and around her mouth. Suddenly things are warm and blurry and you're kissing her harder and faster. She moans against your tongue as her fingers trace your jawline, it makes you shudder and lean further into her. Her tongue swirls around your own in a slower manner though, like you've thrown her off guard and you smirk against her lips feeling proud. You kiss her hard and deep grabbing the straps of her tank-top under her jacket and pulling her up into you, feeling her heat against you until all you can feel is her wet tongue sliding against your own and all you can hear is her thick swallows and the whimpers escaping the back of her throat.
She moans a different kind of sound and shakes her head against your mouth. You feel her hands move up and place themselves on your shoulders, you withdraw from her, detaching your lips with a frustrated growl and wet smack. It's when you open your eyes to look at her your stomach plummets wonderfully and you feel your spine tingle. Her eyes are really dark and she's chewing her wet bottom lip with a crease in her brow like she's about to devour you. You think you'd let her.
"If we keep doing this I'll have to get another couch," she exhales out lowly with a smirk.
You feel crimson dust your cheeks and rub the back of your now slightly perspiring neck awkwardly. "Oh…uhm…sorry I-"
"It's fine, honestly. I just don't want this room to turn into our make out area either."
"Oh" you bow your head in shame. You feel like you've disappointed her even though she doesn't sound it at all. You've probably decimated a sacred space for her, for both of you.
"C'mon, impromptu room 47 session" she grins and suddenly hooks her arm under your thighs and swings you around with such ease that your legs are draped over her thighs. She wraps an arm around your waist to sit you upright and her other hand is running up your shoulder blade and then cups around your neck, her oh so soft fingertips tapping the back of your neck. It's tickly and tingly and makes your stomach feel all funny.
"Tell me honey, how did it go with Sam?" she asks, her eyes so soft and caring.
"Oh" you splutter out yet again and holy fuck she can't expect you to talk to her when she's this close, a comforting warmth from her thighs spreading throughout your own legs, her face inches from your own, her fingers now playing with the fine hairs on the base of your neck. Calling you honey. You can't speak. She smiles that smile again and her eyes drop to your lips. "Santana" she drawls out in a low, teasing sing-song, "If you don't start saying words I won't spend the weekend between your legs like I planned"
God fucking damn it Lopez, speak.
"R-r-r-ight I uh…" you start talking and you blink trying to remember what even happened at Sam's. It's funny because it was making you cry and miserable earlier but now you're in the same room as her and things never seem as bad. "Not good" you sigh and decide to fiddle with a large bronze button on her denim jacket, as it's easier to talk to than those eyes.
It worked for about two seconds before you're staring back into ocean blue.
"Not good?" she pouts and makes the most adorable face ever. She leans into you placing wet kisses along your jawline then pressing her lips firmly onto your cheek, "tell me what happened," she mumbles against your skin and your breathing hitches. You can't fight the smile that's on your face as she presses soft, delicate kisses against your cheek, her breath delighting your neck and the ridge of your ear. She creates a wonderfully tickly feeling that slips it's way down your spine and neck, you feel all fuzzy and light as your heart thuds then stops completely every time she kisses you. Kiss. Thud. Kiss. Thud.
"Britt" you whine and bite back a laugh, "I can't talk while you're doing that"
"Mhmm," she hums in agreement against your cheek and giggles, placing one last kiss on your temple before leaning back onto the back of the sofa and looking at you with a serene, happy smile. You feel like you can tell her anything, even something like Sam trying to kiss you.
"It uh…didn't go so well," you start, and play with the button on her jacket again coyly. Her hand moves slowly from the back of your neck and rests on your thigh giving it a little comforting squeeze. "OK, first of all? He looked like shit. I've never seen him like that before. His hair is long and gross, he looked like he hadn't showered in days, and he's stopped shaving. He was definitely drinking too. I'm kinda worried about him," you admit honestly.
Brittany smiles faintly and just nods for you to continue.
"He did ask about my," you pause and you feel the familiar feeling of inexplicable shame course throughout your thoughts. You don't know why you can't even say the words. "Sexuality," you say eventually and Brittany just sits and listens to your every word, her calm expression unchanging. You wonder how she does that; you want to be just like her one day, you want her mindset and her composure and her purity. You want to be like her because you respect her so damn much, you also love her so damn much but you're afraid to tell her this soon in the relationship.
"It's like he didn't take it seriously, or he did, he took my feelings seriously but it's like he still thought we'd get back together, despite everything. That's it really, I can't actually remember everything that was said but, god, he looked like a broken man. He then started crying asking me how he was going to get over this and I just stood there not knowing what to fucking say because I have no idea. I feel so terrible" you groan and look away down to your now fidgeting hands. "He then tried to kiss me," you mumble. "For a second I wanted to kiss him back, our lips connected for like a second and I wanted to kiss him but not in that kinda way, I almost wanted to kiss him knowing it'd be last time. Kinda like I was saying goodbye," you continue to tell Brittany's lap, unable to bring yourself to look at her face. "But I didn't," you add quickly, "I'm sorry for thinking that though"
You hear a soft laugh; one that sounds like it's amused interwoven with pride.
You look up and your heart crumples in your chest, like it's cowering away from the sheer amount of affection brimming from bright blue eyes looking right at you.
"You don't have to apologize for having thoughts silly," she says with a short giggle, "and to be honest even if you did kiss him I wouldn't have been mad, I know that it wouldn't have meant anything."
You stare at her. Why is she so understanding? How is she real?
"Wow. You're amazing, I don't understand you," you breathe in awe and frown because you really can't grasp the concept of Brittany let alone the reality of Brittany.
Brittany just shakes her head modestly, "What did you say when he asked about your sexuality?"
"He asked if I were…uh…you know" you mumble and make a gesture with your hand. Your throat suddenly feels tighter.
"Gay? A lesbian?" Brittany jumps in for you.
You nod feeling like a coward.
"And what did you say?"
"I said I didn't know," you shrug, "I didn't know what to say to him at all, I don't think it helped to be honest. When I first went there he said I was doing this to make myself feel better and not him, which ended up being true I guess, I think I just made him feel worse. He just kept crying and asking again and again how he was going to get over this," you say quietly and feel guilt and sadness tinge the back of your eyes. "I didn't know what to say"
Brittany pats your thigh gently with the palm of her hand, "You'd be a hard person to lose Santana," she says quietly.
You feel your heart enlarge and the air leave your lungs as you stare into those blue eyes, Brittany's expression deadly serious. You feel a sincere beyond touched lump in your throat and you suddenly want to kiss her all over again.
"You'll never lose me Britt, I'm not going anywhere"
She stares at your lips before her pupils meet your eyes and the smile that was there before now begins remerging itself on her lips. She looks happy and relieved. She's so silly to think you could ever just leave her.
"I don't know what's wrong with me" you say in defeat, "why is this so hard? Why am I finding this so hard? I don't get it. I had distant parents growing up, not many real friends, Puck's death and Quinn going downhill was also hard on me – but none of that I felt the need to be counseled about, and then there's this. This whole situation and I suddenly feel like a helpless little fucking girl. Why can't I be more like you, huh? You're just so relaxed and cool and awesome about who you like and love and who you are, everything just comes easy to you. Why do you find it so easy and I find it so hard?"
"Why was Barney a purple dinosaur that touched kids way too often?" she asks with a straight face.
You stare at her. Her question is so far out of left field and her face is so blank that you feel laughter erupt from the pit of your stomach and then it comes bursting out your mouth. You laugh so loud and throw your head back, "Oh Britt," you sigh at her lovingly, "what has that got to do with anything?"
She sucks her lips in, biting back a grin. "Exactly" she says simply with small shrug.
"Explain" you say quickly, your laugher beginning to die.
"What has that got to do with anything? That was exactly my point," she begins and has now decided to trace patterns around your knee with her pointer finger. "Why are you pondering the whys of pointless questions Santana? Even if you had the answers would it matter anyway? The point is, this is you and your life, and you deal with things how you deal with things, well or not. It's my job to make your life easier and change your thought process but not change who you are. You'll always be you, fundamentally."
You think you understand what she's saying but you don't agree with one thing, "you don't think I've change since meeting you?" you ask worried.
That's the worst part, you've tried to change so much, be better for her. You take the pills for her. If she's saying you haven't changed then all of it was for nothing and you've gotten nowhere.
"Evolved? Yes. Changed? Not a bit" she says simply with a smile.
Your heart stops.
"You're perfect the way you are Santana," Brittany says with a bashful chew of the lips and flicker of the eyes, "sometimes we just need to change how we see things, sometimes we all just need a little help and there's no shame in that. Besides, you said everything comes easy to me but that couldn't be further from the truth, I still try to deal with myself, live with who I am. It may not be for the same reasons as you but we all have internal struggles and self doubt, this is yours Santana and you'll get over it and you'll be a better person because of it. I'll be there on the days when you don't quite feel up to it."
You feel your throat tighten again and you just sit and stare at the marvel she is. You feel your heart pound and your ribcage close in on it. You have so many questions about her perceptiveness. You forget everything that exists all over again when she's back to holding your hand and giving it a little squeeze, she may as well be squeezing your heart.
You know she's your counsellor but in all honesty you've never really seen her as one, or at least as yours, she's more like a teacher and you're her student. She's teaching you about her, about life but more importantly about yourself. It's a process that started the instant you met her but you didn't even realize it was happening till just now.
You really want to help her the way she helps you.
"Brittany, what did you mean when you said you still have to deal with who you are and live with yourself?" you ask quietly.
It was the one statement that stuck out.
Her eyes glance downward and she makes a skewed shape with her lips.
"It's just I-" Brittany cuts herself off quickly and falls silent. She shakes her head at you then shrugs.
It's then you see it – the fear of talking about something. You see the lump in her throat and the way her eyes avert away from you, you know that look because you do it yourself, that horrible feeling when your heart sinks and it feels heavy like iron in your chest, you know that look, you're sure of it. You've hit a sore spot.
You have no idea what's going on inside her head but for a second you're actually hurt there's things she's keeping from you, she must see the hurt flash before your eyes because she tilts her head sympathetically to the side.
"Look Santana," she sighs sounding a little exasperated, "you don't understand, I listen to other peoples lives and problems all the time, what confuses me about you is that for the first time I actually want to share my own, just, please don't be mad at me if it's not all at once or right away, ok?" she pouts and again squeezes your hand tighter in her own.
You smile faintly and nod at her but she doesn't seem convinced.
"I know the whole dating a woman thing is new to you but you forget that the whole dating this is entirely new to me, I've never been in a relationship. Ever."
"Ever?" you ask again even though she's told you before. "What were you and uh…Rachel?" you ask awkwardly.
That stupid little midget.
Brittany's smile broadens as she shrugs "Rachel? Just sex really. Friends with benefits some people call it"
"Do you tell her stuff?" you can't help but ask, you feel a horrible pang of jealousy zap through you every time you hear her name leave Brittany's lips.
"Some stuff, not everything, there's things I've told you that I've never told her. It's not a competition or anything Santana, I just think I want to take this slow. You mean a lot to me and…I don't want to ruin this by opening myself up entirely to you"
"I open up entirely to you though"
A voice deep within you laughs at that, you know there are things you don't tell her because she'll think less of you, like taking more pills than you should.
She sighs and laughs a little, her fingers now traveling over the bumps of your knuckles. "That's true but only because it's my job," she says and pauses to give you a serious look, "I want you to know Santana that anything I ask you outside of this room is only for conversation, not for me to asses or anything. You're not compelled to divulge anything to me outside this room, ok?"
"OK" you eventually smile at her. You do understand, you get it now; you're important to her and the fact she's even going out with out is proof enough of that. You still wonder why she's even with you, she could have any man or women that wanted her yet she's here with you, screwed up, bitter sarcastic ass, early-life crisis you.
"So if I ask you about school outside this room I don't want to hear about early indications of your possible homosexuality" she snorts.
Usually you'd feel offended but you laugh, a proper belly laugh out loud. "Oh yeah? What would you want to know?"
"Oh you know, embarrassing funny memories, clubs you went to" she shrugs casually with a wicked grin on her face. "Nothing for me to go Dr. Phil on your ass for" she smirks.
You can't stop laughing, you love her so much.
"I was in the softball team, I even still have the t-shirt I wore" you blurt out suddenly.
You both lock eyes and simultaneous laughter bounces off the walls in room 47. She bends forward unable to contain her merriment and leans her forehead down on your shoulder. Your stomach has never hurt this badly from laughing before.
She leans back, a wicked glint in her eye and a grin on her face, "do I even need to say it?" she giggles again, her eyes bulging like the joke doesn't even need to be made. It doesn't.
"Hey," you laugh and slap her arm playfully in defense, "I was also in cheerios. That's what we called our cheerleading squad"
She's still laughing and wipes under eyes before smirking, quirking her eyebrow in the process. "Yeah, having girls spread their legs over you to form a pyramid of hot sweaty horny teenage girls isn't gay either"
You bite back a laugh. You have no comeback, which is highly unusual. In fact you don't think you've ever struggled for words as much as you have around her in your entire lifetime.
You know for a fact that even as early as a few weeks ago you would have cried if anyone, let alone Brittany made a gay joke toward you, but now you're finding the whole situation amusing. You remember when you first met Brittany and you were both at the ranch, if she had so mentioned a gay joke or pun intended for you, you would have sued her ass. Now you're just in love with her ass. Oh how things have changed.
You snort at your own thoughts and roll your eyes.
"Promise me something," she says her smile fading and her demeanor more attentive.
"Anything," you say back, the word spilling from your mouth like it was the most natural answer to her question.
Her lips twitch into a smile and she holds up her pinky finger in front of you. You stare at it then back to her face unable to contain your own smile. You hook your own pinky finger around hers, giggling shyly as it feels so soft and makes your hand feel limp.
"Promise me that we'll take this slow and not let my job or anything else for that matter spoil what we have"
You feel the tiny muscle in your pink finger twitch and grasp around hers tighter.
Or anything else for that matter
It's then you realize that you need to be more careful with your meds, you need them so you can be strong for her otherwise you'd be having panic attacks on a daily basis then she'd just leave you, but you need to space them out, be clever. Or maybe you should just be taking one a day like you're supposed to, you're not so sure anymore. Either way you make her a silent promise on this matter that you'll never let her down again, she'll never have to come and get you at a hospital, a shivering nervous wreck, ever again. You're going to be so much better for her, and you're not going to let stupid little plastic capsules or anyone get in the way of what you have here.
"I promise," you say purposefully and give her pinky an extra squeeze.
"You can't break a pinky promise Santana" she smiles softly, "I'll be very cross with you if you break a pinky promise, it's like, so much more official than an ordinary promise"
You laugh a little and try not to flail at her cuteness.
You break away from her pinky, maneuver up from the couch and offer your hand down to her.
She gives you a curious look, smile still on her face causing happy lines at the side of her eyes. Brittany takes your hand and you pull her up off the sofa.
"C'mon" you incline your head to the door, "let's go home, I'll make us a late dinner"
"Oooh" she makes an impressed sound and her eyes travel down to your lips like they often do and it makes your heart feel like it's sitting in your throat. "What's for desert?" she asks lowly as her arms wrap themselves around your waist pressing you flush against each other.
You swallow heavily.
"Whatever you want," you smirk.
This whole thing is new to you on many levels but you're still getting used to flirting with her, for the most part she's flirted with you that's left you in a sexually frustrated confused state of mind, but you're slowly getting the hang of it now. At least you hope so.
"Santana," she whispers as she licks her lips and her hand is slowly traveling up the side of your body, you clench your stomach muscles because it's tingly and tickly. Brittany always feels so good, you don't understand it.
"Yeah?" you breathe back, her face inches from your own.
Her hand travels to your arm and she clasps her palm around your bicep squeezing it slightly, her thumb pressing into your muscle in small circular motions. You feel dizzy. You can't feel any other part of your body except the arm she's touching and a familiar dull throb between your legs.
She scrunches up her nose adorably like she's embarrassed before saying "I'm really glad you just called my place home"
Your brain processes what she's saying much slower than it usually does because she's still so close to you and touching your arm. You smile peacefully at her, your heart hammering like it's trying to burst through your chest.
You honestly don't know what to say, you're afraid you're going to blurt out that you're madly in love with her so instead you grab her other hand and place a soft kiss on the back of it, the taste of her skin tempting your lips. You breathe all of her in before regretfully pulling away with a sigh.
"C'mon let's go," you say quietly, the moment feeling so perfect you both don't really need to say any more words.
Later on after you made you and Brittany your favorite chicken salad dish, you're both sitting on the sofa watching cartoons. Yes cartoons, it's what Brittany wants to watch and you're not going to say no, besides she has her sleepy head resting on your shoulder, her hand on your thigh and her soft breath tickling your neck. You also have Lucy curled around your feet, sleeping peacefully away and you're honestly beginning to feel like you're home. At first you missed your old place a lot but you're beginning to feel at home in here, you think the building is irrelevant and home is more to do with the blonde leaning against you. Still, you aren't entirely settled here, all your clothes are still in your suitcase on the floor in Brittany's room. It's a quarter past 10 at night and you want to groan because you're tired and will need to go to bed soon. At least tomorrow is Friday.
"Hey I know you probably find these cartoons boring," Brittany sighs with a yawn.
There wasn't exactly a question in her statement but you respond anyway, chuckling a little, "not boring, this one's just a little weird"
"It's called adventure time," she informs you, her tone slight and ever so cutely intolerant of your ignorance, "and it's one of the smartest shows I've ever watched"
You stare at the brightly colored cartoon on the TV and shrug; it just looks like the creation of some meth head.
"It's about to finish anyways," she says, "hey if you get bored I can get some socks I've knitted and put on a sock puppet show for you?"
Once you realize she's deadly serious you begin laughing all over again, your heart fluttering away woozily at how cute she is. She's so silly sometimes for someone so smart and you love that about her. You love most things about her.
She raises her head from your shoulder and looks at you with an adorable frown.
"I'd love that Britt," you sigh, wiping under your eyes, unable to stop chuckling.
You do stop laughing though rather suddenly when Brittany's expression lights up even in the darkness of the room, a shy smile on her face. The only light source is the TV yet you can still see the blush on her face and how dilated her pupils are, she's staring at you with a wonderment you can't explain, you almost want to cower away.
You avert your eyes down to somewhere below her neck, "you look at me like I'm special" you mumble, your own cheeks feeling like they're burning crimson.
Special as in the only person in the world.
"You are," she says simply and shrugs like she knows it like she knows the sky is blue, "and one day you're going to believe that Santana"
"I-" you begin but find your mouth slowly closing again. Her words and the way she's looking at you seems to have sucked all the air out the room and any clarity from your mind. It's a beautiful feeling. Cloudy but beautiful.
You think you're going to suddenly announce you love her so fucking much, you can feel the admission on the tip of your tongue. You try distracting yourself and instead ask her a question you've been saving. "How did you get so wise?"
"Wise?" she snorts and waves her palm away from you in a dismissive manner, "I'm not wise"
"You are," you say simply, "you're twenty seven yet sometimes I think you have the mind of a 72 year old"
She giggles at that and the sound seems to please your ears, heart and stomach.
"Also sometimes a freakin' three year old," you add and wink at her. "So tell me, how did you get to be so wise?" you repeat the question.
She sucks in her lips and her eyes travel to the TV but you know she's not really watching it, you know she's pondering her answer.
"Life" she shrugs after a while.
"Will you tell me about it?"
"One day. How did you get to be so sad?" she shoots right back.
"Life" you mimic her answer with a bitter, hollow laugh.
"I think you're the wiser one then"
"Why's that?" you ask, tilting your head to get a better view of her face as she stares at the TV almost absentmindedly.
"Because at least you talk about it"
You feel like with every kiss, every conversation, you're unraveling her, unwrapping her like a present you can't wait to receive.
You reach out your hand and stroke the side of her face, unable to contain your happiness when she closes her eyes peacefully and her face relaxes. You just love touching her, she feels so fucking amazing, you never touched Sam just for the sake of it, but with her you need to touch her somewhere, anywhere, almost all the time. You were never a touchy feely person or a hugger, she's making you want to do all of that and instead of feeling like you're changing, perhaps she's just bringing out something that was already there. Maybe you are evolving.
Brittany opens her eyes and giggles again dispersing the somewhat somber atmosphere that had been created.
"What?" you grin at her, your hand cupping under her jawline, the tips of your fingers tickling under hear earlobe. Such lovely soft skin.
"You're tickling my funny bone," she continues to giggle, her head jolting slightly.
"Uh, Britt that's not your funny bone," you laugh.
"Hey you don't know that, it might tell really good jokes. Besides whenever I…why are you laughing at me?" she pauses mid sentence and stares at you.
Because you're so cute
Because you're so fucking cute and hot
Because I love you
You open your mouth and almost say it before she's quickly jumped onto another subject.
"Oh hey, I forgot I wanted to show you something," she says, patting your lap and getting up from the couch departing to the kitchen, turning on the standalone lamp as she goes.
Lucy is roused from her sleep and prods along after her, the bell on her collar jingling. You smile noticing how she always follows Brittany wherever she goes unless Brittany tells her otherwise. If you were a dog, you'd probably do the same.
You're glad she left because you were about to say something stupid.
"Here," she says after a minute and comes back with a newspaper in hand. She sits down beside you and opens it up on her lap, you recognize the pages in an instant, it's the property section, and you also see she's gotten a red marker and circled some advertisements. "Uhm, not that I want you to leave it's just that our conversation earlier reminded me that I did this. We've only known each other a few months and you living with me isn't exactly taking things slow. I don't want to pressure you," she says quickly and she's babbling somewhat. "I circled some apartments that I think would be in your price range, you know, it would be good for you to live alone I think"
You stare at her feeling disappointed and sad, "you're right, living alone would be good for me, I've never did it before," you admit honestly.
"Yeah," she nods slowly but her tone suggests her heart isn't totally crazy about the idea. "I…I'd miss you so much though," she breathes quietly and you can see her fingers playing nervously with the edge of the paper.
Your heart's thudding so loud against your chest and what feels like your throat too, you find yourself pinching your thighs together because honestly, as adorable as her cuteness and even her sadness is, it's also making you want to rip all her clothes off and kiss every inch of her body.
She looks at you and her expression changes, she must see how suddenly darker your eyes are, how you're chewing your bottom lip softly, how you're breathing is much heavier. How your eyes are roaming across her face like you're envisioning kissing every inch of it and you are, you really, really are.
"So," she swallows thickly, her eyes dropping to your lips, then your boobs. "Do you want to take a look?"
You smirk not saying a word for a moment and the intensity increases tenfold.
"Sure," you eventually breathe out huskily, you have no intention of looking at the paper but you take the opportunity to scoot closer to her till your thighs connect and the edge of your waist meets hers. You tense up, your arm stiffening as your shoulders bump together.
"Uhm," she almost whispers and doesn't elaborate, like she's forgotten what she was saying. "Uh…t-this place looks nice, two bedrooms, one bathroom, small garden which is rare in the city"
She's fumbling over her words.
She points and taps at the space on the page with her pointer finger.
Your left hand follows and rests beside hers, you hear her take a sharp inhale as the edges of your hands touch. You move your right hand and place it on her shoulder, pretending to lean down to read the information and from the corner of your eye you see her foot twitch a little and feel her shoulder blade stiffen under your palm. She feels so lovely and soft and warm, even with clothes in the way.
"Mhmm" you make a suggestive moaning noise, "this place does seem good, not too far from here either"
"Santana," she whispers shakily and it weakens your resolve having her warm breath hit your face, her lower than usual voice saying your name.
You ignore her and move your hand sliding from her shoulder down her spine slowly before resting on the small of her back. "But the truth is Brittany," you whisper and turn to face her so your mouth is by her ear. "I don't really want to leave here"
She continues staring down at the paper, her hand's still fidgeting with the now ripped edge. "Why?" she asks quietly.
"Because I wouldn't be able to do this whenever I like"
You tuck her wonderful golden hair behind her ears and lean into her, placing a small kiss in front of her ear, and then plump lips travel along her jawline and then onto her cheek, you kiss and kiss and kiss her till you can't think about anything else.
She twists and cups your cheeks in her palms then kisses you firmly on the lips. You shudder, a rattling sound from the back of your throat as she's completely taken you by surprise. You kiss her back, your wet lips sliding together, teasingly, lovingly. She then starts palming at your abs through your work shirt and her other hand starts smoothing over your pencil skirt, her perfect hands roaming over your shoulders and down your front and up your thigh desperately like there's too much of you to handle. She disconnects your lips and looks at you darkly; you feel the hand that was on your thigh now on your chin as she drags her thumb up and onto your lips. Your heart stops and instead seems to beat between your legs.
The soft pad of her thumb drags itself tortuously over your bottom lip and she's looking at them mesmerized. "I want these lips somewhere else," she whispers.
You don't need to be asked twice.
You groan and grab her wrist pulling her hands down and start kissing her again, except this time with more purpose. You play and tug at the edge of her pants roughly in a desperate haze. You try undoing her button but your palms are sweating and you groan.
"God Santana, fuck me," she whines out, her head leaning back on the sofa her bare neck exposed to you. She arches up into you and you can't think.
You know what you want to do so you force her button open and breathe heavily in relief. You slide down the sofa till you drop to the floor, your knee's thudding against the carpet. You settle yourself between her legs and she looks down at you, her hooded eyes brimming with lust. You tug the zipper down slowly all the way down to the bottom, feeling warm under her gaze. Honestly, you can't wait to taste her again; it's something you've found yourself dreaming about. Your shaking hands grab the edge of her pants and pull them down hurriedly yet gently; she lifts her ass up so you can bring them down till they're around her ankles.
You try steady your breathing and take things slow, you run your hands up her thighs gingerly, feeling her muscles quiver beneath your palms. You push her knees apart gradually, parting her legs and you begin placing little butterfly kisses on the inside of her thigh. She pants and makes whining noises above you and suddenly your own knees go weak when her soft hands are tangling themselves in your hair, scraping your scalp ever so slightly in desperation. You can see at the top part of your vision that her stomach is heaving, her breathlessness and desperation in the small cants of her hips is unbelievably sexy. You run your palms up the sides of her legs, marveling at how soft her skin is, and how fucking good she feels. Reaching the edges of her underwear, she lifts herself up again and you slide them down her long toned legs.
You press your lips onto her thighs again and again, your lips getting damper and your heartbeat getting faster and faster. You reach the very top of her thighs and your eyes roll to the back of your head when you smell her arousal, the thick heady aroma clouding your senses and her fingers now running though your hair frenziedly. She pushes your head down and into her sex forcefully, encouragingly, and it makes you moan when you find your lips pressing against her swollen clit.
"Ughhhh," a deep voice rasps above you and she's bringing her knees up and spreading herself more, opening herself up for you. She rests her legs on your shoulders and it makes excitement pool in your lower stomach.
You feel a lot more confident with this than you did last time; you also have a lot more freedom because she's not sitting on top of you. You decide to try not make this time so sloppy and be more precise.
You smirk against her clit and close your mouth more firmly over it, entrapping the swollen bud in your mouth and surrounding it with wet heat. You suck a little and she jerks into you madly.
"Your," she pants, "magical," pant, "lips" pant.
You laugh softly against her flesh, feeling and seeing her clench at the sensation. You feel yourself blush as you part her sensitive folds with your tongue, running it up her center, this time more firmly and steadily.
"Oh god I'm already so close," she whines in a pitch you've never heard from her, her thighs jerking restlessly on your shoulders.
You feel your own sex burn and throb in your underwear and you groan into her now wet sex, you hover your tongue at her entrance and dip the tip in ever so slightly deciding to wiggle the wet muscle frantically up and down and from side to side creativing a vibrating sensation.
There's one thing you've learned fast about Brittany – she's loud.
She screams and moans raucously, her nails digging into your scalp and damn she's so loud it makes arousal flow through your own veins and you blink trying to concentrate because you can't think. You delve into her, licking and toying with her sensitive flesh and you're driving her crazy and she in turn is driving you crazy, it's hard to think in this heat, with nothing but Brittany surrounding your senses. Honestly, tasting her stimulation in your mouth, her letting you pleasure the most sensitive part of her body, her trusting you so much to open herself up to you, in more ways than one, is beyond your comprehension. Going down on her gives you a pleasure that's better than your own need, it contents and gives you a sense of satisfaction you can't quite explain.
You delve into her deep and hard, your tongue twisting more perfectly and frantically this time, just hitting her sweet spot but not quite. You lap away at her like you have a thirst only her taste can quench. You can feel her tighten a little and get gradually wetter and wetter.
"Oh god" she breathes, her voice uneven. "Wait, wait not just yet" she says like she's about to come and you know she is but she lifts your head just slightly. "Run those lips all over me"
It wasn't a request. It was an order.
Holy fucking god.
She's telling you what to do.
You really don't need to be told twice, you withdraw from her, her entrance now more gaping and parted and you lick your lips sliding them against her sex. Up and down. Up and down.
She's flailing on top of you making words you can't decipher.
You kiss her clit again and again, softly at first but firmer and firmer with each wet smack. You rotate your head in circular motions over her clit, your lips sinking and sliding all over her and she's trembling, completely at your mercy. You have to steady her hips to stop her from squirming so much. You suddenly get the urge to enter her with something other than your tongue though, you wonder what she feels like inside, you weren't one for masturbating in that way so in all honesty you don't know what it's like or what to do. You don't want to ruin this or leave her unsatisfied with some anti-climatic lame orgasm so you decide to keep your hands on her hips, squeezing them a little, almost forcing them to keep still and open your mouth as wide as it can be, delving back into her again.
Your breath is hot and heavy against her, unable to keep your own arousal in check for much longer so you're relieved and proud when you feel her sex tremble in your mouth, her labored breathing panting your name incoherently, her sweaty limbs draped over you and all in your hair. She bucks against your face and you swipe and suck away, dragging her pleasure out. You sample the taste of her as a new sweeter taste seeps itself over your tongue, evidence of her climax.
Eventually her breathing evens out, her hands fall limp still tangled in your hair and you feel her relax against you. You raise your head up, her wetness burst apart from your lips with a gratifying pop and you grin lazily up at her.
She looks down at you, her sweaty face relaxed, her thin lips smiling in satisfaction. Her eyes still dark but with a sparkle in them like she's so pleased with you.
"C'mere" she says breathlessly with a grin, bringing your head up till you have to get up from the floor and kneel between her legs on the sofa. She's pressing her lips sloppily against yours and your eyes fall shut, your heart stopping for a second like it usually does when your lips connect. Her breathing is ragged but she's kissing you sloppily and fervently at the same time, pressing her lips firmly against yours then at the corner of your lips and then around your chin, soaking up the evidence of her own arousal on your skin.
You can't think as she places wet kisses all over your mouth and then on your cheek, you feel the skin there burn under her lips and your own heartbeat begins to speed up. There's a familiar tingle between your legs and on the back of your thighs.
"You are" kiss. "So good" kiss. "At that" kiss.
Her breath is now hot and heavy against your face and she kisses all the way up to your temple and your eyes are still shut unable to keep control of all your senses. She presses the most delicate kiss over your eyelid and you feel your eyelashes tremble against her soft and damp lips, the tremble seems to echo in your heart as it thuds and shivers between your thighs.
"Brittany," you whisper weakly, unable to open your eyes as you sit and drown in all the feelings and sensations she creates within you.
Both of Brittany's hands now palm the side of your hips before they're sliding down and then up again under your skirt. Only the thin layer of your tights separates her hands from your skin and it's torture. She glides around the curve of your waist and squeezes your ass gently. You can't breathe. She slides them slowly down to the back of your thighs and it creates a wonderful trickily feeling that causes your stomach to spin. With your eyes still shut you almost faint forward into her and wrap your arms around her neck holding on.
"God," you breathe into her ear, your breath puffing away some blonde strands of hair. It's so hot and humid; you don't remember it being this suffocating when you came home.
She begins sliding your tights down your legs and you feel your breathing get more and more uneven, your breasts heaving against hers.
"Is this OK?" she whispers.
A tiny whimper escapes the back of your throat and she takes that as an answer. She slides them down till they're at your bent knees and she can't go further.
"You're going to have to stand up baby," she says, her voice so soft and intimate that it tickles the air and your insides.
You also feel your own arousal flush your cheeks and pool in your underwear hearing that pet name escape her lips post-orgasm.
With your legs shaking as much as your heart you stand up and quickly slide your tights and skirt down till you kick them away to the side, you decide to keep your underwear on as you climb back onto the couch and decide to sit on her lap, spreading your legs so one's at each side of her waist. You wrap your arms around her neck and smile peacefully at her, in an odd contradiction to what the rest of your body is doing.
You gasp as her hand slides over your thighs then under your spread legs as digits press themselves against your damp underwear. You already feel your center pounding away against the cotton, it's maddening, so blissfully maddening.
She starts sliding two fingers against you, rubbing them perfectly up and down your underwear, over your clit and opening your folds more and more with every motion. Up and down. Down and up. The digits causing a burning in-between your legs, making you wetter and wetter till you can't stand it, you need her to touch you.
You groan, finding your hips have slowly started rocking into her ministrations, you need a distraction as your lungs feel like they're going to explode. You start kissing carelessly behind her ear and you feel smug when her up and down painful pattern falters for a second. As punishment her fingers stars moving faster through you and you moan loudly, you bite her ear lobe and moan her name in her ear.
You can't take much of her teasing.
"Brittany," you cry, panting in desperation.
She giggles, the sound low and rasping.
Then she's tugging and pulling the edge of your underwear to one side, exposing yourself to her. "You want this baby?" she purrs into your ear, her head by yours, one hand on the small of your back and the other hovering dangerously below your now exposed sex.
"Yes" you hiss, your breathing now so erratic that you get an inexplicable thrill that with every breath you take your breasts heave and push against hers, your bodies zapping together with every contact.
She runs her digits through your folds, adorning them in your wetness and you turn into a whimpering mess over her. She slowly slips one finger into you, twisting it slightly and your thighs begin to tremble over her at the sensation.
She slips another one in and you can do nothing but whisper things incoherently into her ear, you're not even sure what you're saying other than she feels so amazing.
Her other hand is palming your breasts roughly over your shirt and you even feel your nipples pebble beneath your bra. "You like that?" she breathes heavily, "then again I don't even need to ask, I can tell you love me inside you so fucking much"
Your lungs forget to literally take in oxygen, it's like your brain's turned to mush it's forgotten how to send signals to your vital organs.
Brittany cursing is a rare and hot thing.
You begin rocking into her frantically, needing her more than you need to breathe. You rock harder and harder, her delving up into you and you grinding down on her in a near perfect rhythm. You feel your muscles clench tighter and tighter, that familiar tingly feeling traveling up the sides of your thighs.
"Oh god Britt I'm going to come already"
You feel her circle and curve up inside you, hitting that rough spot that makes your knees tremble and your thighs sweat. You feel so close yet tortuously so far as her knuckles go round and round making heavenly wet looping patterns inside you, it's so good you're sure your mouth is hanging open in a very unattractive way. You bow your head down onto her shoulder, just catching in your lower vision the sight of her wrist and arm pumping furiously forward and up into you. You can't stand this anymore. Her digits and knuckles are slowly stretching your entrance wider and willing, you feel so dizzy and close you've given up on breathing, and rocking into her and even kissing her lazily that you're now just a panting mess on top of her. Everything is hot and hazy.
You begin to hear how aroused you are, it sends a shiver of satisfaction down your spine knowing that you're so wet for her your folds are sticking and seeping around her knuckles, hugging them tighter and tighter as she continues to move and curl up inside you.
She picks up her pace and you're both moving so fast against each other now, breasts shoving into breasts, breaths clashing together and you feel your lower stomach rise and rise to that blissful moment you know is coming. You smash your lips against hers, kissing her hard, slipping your tongue into please hers, and you both moan loudly the sound echoing around your open mouths.
You don't even make a noise when you hit the peak of your orgasm; your thighs just judder over her. You feel your sex pound and tighten around her digits and a wave of pleasure travel from your lower stomach all the way to the bottom of your feet. Your eyes roll back, not really seeing anything anyway and she swallows up your non-existence sounds with her mouth, her tongue dancing around your own and you tremble all over again as she continues to pump inside you, slowly prolonging your seas of release. Once you come down from your high you're pleased and relieved when, although you're moist and sticking to her almost in a needy manner, you haven't made a mess this time. Though your body and mind is spent you use your last bit of energy to tear away from her lips and laugh lazily.
"You didn't ruin this couch," Brittany smirks at you, her eyes looking mesmerized and tired.
She then wiggles her fingers and you jolt forward. She's still inside you.
"Don't," you laugh groggily, "too sensitive, too much, you're amazing" you pant out, probably not making much sense and press a chaste kiss against her lips.
"You're so beautiful Santana," she whispers shyly, and kisses you delicately back.
Knock. Knock. Knock.
You're both in such an intimate harmonious moment that you both have a delayed reaction to the loud noise now echoing around the room.
Slowly Brittany frowns, "I think there's someone at my door"
You shiver as she withdraws from you and you still can't think of feel your legs but you try your hardest to at least get your underwear back in shape.
You also ignore the warm feeling in the pit of your belly when Brittany pulls up her pants again and sucks on the fingers that were inside you so casually, almost like she just ate a delicious pizza, as she makes her way to the door. You shouldn't find her nonchalance sexy but you do. You blush hard and panic a little when you realize it's too late to put on your skirt because Brittany's already coming back from the front door.
"It's OK," she holds a hand out to you, "It's just Kurt"
You're half expecting to hear a sarky comment from him, finding you half-naked in her apartment but once he emerges from behind Brittany his eyes are puffy and red. He's been crying.
"Come sit down" Brittany says softly and leads him to the sofa, you step out of the way awkwardly and wonder if he should be even sitting on the spot where you just…did that.
"Tell me what happened," Brittany coos as she sits next to him and strokes her hand through his hair.
You think she's so cute and caring but you also think they're both really cute together and you've come to care about Kurt in a way you can't explain. You just have a sense of comradery with him and you're not sure why, you wonder why he's been crying.
You clear your throat awkwardly, "do you want some coffee, tea?"
He just shakes his head and more tears spill from his eyes.
"What's wrong?" you ask sitting down on the lone sofa across from them.
"Blaine broke up with him," Brittany informs you and that just makes Kurt weep a little louder.
"It's came out of n-n-nowhere" he snivels, "I thought we were great, we were planning to move in and then he just comes round and says this isn't working anymore. I-I-I don't understand"
You listen in silence for a while as Brittany does most of the consoling. At first you think Kurt's being a bit dramatic but then you contemplate the fact you don't know him that well or what his relationship with Blaine was like, you then think that you're so damn happy with Brittany how would you feel if she randomly turned around and said this was over. You find yourself asking what Sam was asking you earlier, how would you ever get over that? You clear your throat and shake your head to get rid of the small lump now in your throat and listen to Kurt talk for almost an hour. You're only input was "that guy wore way too much hair gel on his head anyway" to which Kurt laughed for a brief moment and you'd like to think you made him feel better.
It's past midnight by the time Kurt finally stops crying and you feel really bad for him but you don't know what to say, it's Brittany's place to take care of him and she does, just like you expect her to. You all get ready for bed and Brittany tells Kurt she can sleep in beside them, which later turned out to be Kurt and Lucy squashed in-between you and Brittany at opposite sides of the bed. You laugh quietly as Kurt has already fallen asleep and you lift your head up to see Brittany's eyes are smiling back at you from the opposite side of the bed. This is kind of weird; it's probably the furthest away from you she's been on this bed.
That is until she manages to stretch her arm over Kurt and Lucy taking your hand in hers anyway.
You fall asleep pretty quickly with her soft palm squeezing your own and a smile on your face.
After work on Friday night Brittany decided it was a good idea to go to the gym, she gives you another explanation about mental health and it's beneficial link with physical exercise but you're nervous for a whole other reason, she's invited Quinn, Kurt and Rachel to join you both. Brittany says it's a good chance for both your friends to mingle but honestly you can't imagine a more odd group of people together.
There's something extremely sexy in seeing Brittany in a simple grey tank top and sweats, her hair tied up so messily. Part of you is jealous of how she can look so hot without even trying but mostly you're just proud and attracted to everything she is. You yourself go for a black top and purple workout sweats, you know this top pushes your boobs up in a flattering way so you're hoping to at least have some fun tonight and tease a certain blonde.
"Friday night and we're spending a few hours working out, we're young adults, shouldn't we be partying or something?" Quinn laughs softly as she joins you, Brittany and Kurt in the entrance lobby.
She's wearing white leggings with a pretty white flowery top and it's so elegant and atypically Quinn.
"Hey Q," you smirk at her, "what's up with you? Sorry I haven't been in contact as much recently"
"Santana," she blinks at you, "we have lunch everyday"
"Yeah but apart from that," you shrug
"Well, I know you and…Brittany" she smiles awkwardly to the other blonde "have your own thing going on"
There's still a little hostility in the air between Brittany and Quinn, you can feel it, not so much from Brittany to Quinn but definitely vice versa. You know Quinn loved Sam but she needs to accept you're no longer with him. You also know though that Quinn respects Brittany, she's the reason Quinn's still here after Pucks death, maybe spending time together outside of being counsellor/patient would be a great idea after all.
"Don't worry Quinn," Brittany laughs softly tucking some stray bits of hair behind her ear, "I'm not taking Santana away from you"
"Good," Quinn smiles politely back.
It's not for another ten minutes that Rachel arrives, donning a dark V-neck and tight fitting leggings; she's sort of dressed like a little ballerina.
"Sorry guys!" she squeals as she rushes toward Kurt and gives him a hug, "I like to be fashionably late as you know"
You look away when she kisses Brittany on the cheek.
Rachel's eyes then fall to Quinn and her eyebrows rise and her head tilts to the side like she's genuinely confused by Quinn's mere presence. "And who is this?" she smiles, offering her hand out to Quinn.
"Quinn, Quinn Fabray" the blonde smiles courteously and shakes her hand firmly.
You watch for a second as Rachel seems to forget where she is before she's reverted back into her usual annoying, self-centered self. "I'm Rachel Berry, you've probably heard of me I'm a huge star on Broadway and-"
"No," Quinn says simply cutting her off, "I've never seen a Broadway show in my life so I wouldn't know, sorry" she says rather bluntly and looks to the ceiling like there's something suddenly more interesting there.
Kurt gasps and Rachel looks crestfallen and slightly offended, you imagine she's never been shot down in such a quick, relentless manner before and both you and Brittany share a knowing, stealthy smile. There's a long silence and you think maybe Rachel's about to slap her. Brittany begins talking to Kurt about Blaine again but you keep your ears tuned into Quinn's direction. You really want everyone to get along, you're serious about Brittany and you want her friends to be your friends.
"So," Rachel clears her throat instead and you're surprised she isn't yelling at Quinn by now, "What is it you do?"
Suddenly Brittany's by your side and even though the lobby is empty apart from the five of you and the receptionist you tense a little when she, without thinking wraps her arm around your waist and leans into you. You stiffen with surprise but quickly soften into her side. You still don't understand how she feels so good, and how she in turn makes you turn into jelly by the simplest of touches. "Nobody's here this is good PDA practice," she smiles against your ear and you feel warm and cared for. She's always gently nudging you slightly in the right direction. All too quickly she's pulled away and her and Kurt are heading into the main gym area, you hang around waiting for Quinn to finish her conversation with Rachel.
"A lawyer" Rachel repeats, like she's testing the sound on her lips. "That's incredibly noble of you!" she beams clasping her hands together.
You hold back a snort. You recognize that social awkwardness though, maybe Rachel likes Quinn? You almost feel sorry for her, she's definitely barking up the wrong tree with Quinn. Still you're not going to complain if it keeps her away from Brittany.
"Noble?" Quinn repeats flatly like she's disgusted with the idea, "the last thing America needs is another damn lawyer, like today, my client got beaten and raped by her husband but the case was dismissed, they asked her over thirty-four questions and asked him four, only goddamn four!" Quinn exclaims, her voice trembling in rage.
Wow. Quinn's usually so reserved so to see her sudden outburst is a little surprising to say the least, also you know she has a tough job but she almost never speaks about it in-depth.
"I'm so sorry," Rachel says quietly and you've never seen her this insecure either, "would you like to talk about it?"
You laugh behind your palm.
Good luck with that.
"Yeah, that would be nice actually," Quinn says to your utter surprise and she smiles at you as her and Rachel walk into the main area and you're left alone out here. You blink not knowing what the hell just happened, that little midget has her hands on Brittany and now she's trying to scoop your best friend too? You roll your eyes and follow suit. You'll try to like her, for Brittany at least.
Kurt seems to be letting all his anger and rage out on the treadmill, running and running, his sneakers stomping moodily with loud thumps against the base of the machine. It's Friday night so the place is pretty empty and you like it that way. You think this is something you'd like to do on a weekly basis. After a short run on the treadmill you find Brittany on the chest press machine, you watch, your stomach growing warm and your throat growing thick when you find yourself memorized by the way her arms are bending in and out, her sweaty biceps enlarging then withdrawing as she brings both the handles together and apart again. Her face is shining with sweat, her hair sticking to her, she's licking her lips in concentration, and her stomach hardening with each heavy breath she takes. You walk up to her till you're right in front and find yourself smirking at her.
Her eyes open a little wider and she smirks playfully back, knowing what you're thinking right away.
"You are so hot," you whisper, your hand resting over your chest to check your heart is still working. You quirk your eyebrow at her and bend down pretending to tighten her shoelaces when really you're just looking for an excuse to touch any part of her. Your teasing works when you watch as she swallows thickly and her eyes fall to your chest. "Just fixing your laces," you say with a wink as you walk away and look for something else to tire you out before you jump her.
It turns into a secretive, playful, sexy little game. Brittany brushes by you occasionally, her hands skimming by the gap at the bottom of your tank top, her sweaty and sticky hands making contact with bare skin and you gasp all three times she does it. As you're doing press-ups she comes over and takes your water bottle, opens it and drinks slowly from it. You watch her throat swallow and gulp and not only do you find it irrationally sexy but you also manage to find a deeper meaning that makes your heart feel like it's glowing. She took your water, without asking persimmon, she just took your water like what's yours is hers and you feel silly about reading more into such a simple gesture but it makes you feel really good. Her eyes meet yours every few minutes or so, at first it's shy and secret giggles but it turns darker and erotic almost when she begins to eye you in a way that makes you feel like you're standing naked in the middle of the room, like she's slowly taking off every piece of clothing you have on. You look down to remind yourself you have clothes on but you've never felt more naked in your life.
The game continues on and it's mostly a game of hips skimming, arms innocently grazing, Brittany "fixing" the tag on your top as she takes the opportunity to run her hands down your back that makes your eyes flutter shut before she's off again doing something else and you both continue the night sharing secret smirks and stolen glances, both using every opportunity to scuff elbows and bump hips. Everything else just seems like background noise when Brittany's around you.
Eventually you find yourself at the rowing machines with Quinn, you're glad to know she spent five minutes talking to Brittany and that's five minutes more than you expected. She spent forty talking to Rachel, you ask her about it but she just says it was nice talking to a stranger, which, you can't really argue with that.
You're really enjoying tonight though, it may have to be the excitement Brittany's causing you to feel but also how safe you feel here with people that know about you and Brittany and won't judge or talk to you about it. There is no pressure here, within this group of people and you really like it.
You also really like working out.
You kind of hate to admit it but you're even enjoying the humid perspiring air of the gym. Your hands are sweaty as hell as you pull back and forth on the rowing machine, you feel the muscles in your arms and shoulders begin to pang and loosen.
"Keep-" pull. "Up-" pull. "Fabray" you breathe out and smirk to the woman on your right going along with you at a much more leisurely pace.
She pulls one last time, slides to the front of her rowing machine and stops, shooting you an impatient frown. "It's not a competition Santana, we're not actually rowing," she says dryly.
"C'mon, use your imagination" you grin at her, still pulling back and forth.
Quinn cocks an eyebrow at you, "are you feeling OK? You've been very hyper and…" she trails and gives you a pointed look.
Her lips skew and change shape as if pondering her next word, "happy I guess"
Your grin widens. That's because you are happy.
"Everything is OK with you two then?" Quinn asks, sounding curious.
"Yeah," you sigh but failing to sound convincing. "It's just, I feel we're not a relationship of equals, and maybe that's ok right now but in the long run she'll find someone else, someone more stable and dependable than me"
"That's nonsense Santana," Quinn scoffs, "I see the way she looks at you, she's crazy about you."
Maybe that's the problem, maybe there needs to be a little less crazy in her life.
You feel a clammy hand clasp itself gently on your shoulder and instantly your knees go weak and you've forgotten all about rowing and you stop to catch your breath. Brittany comes sauntering around to your side, her fingers running down your arm, skin sticking to skin.
You smile shyly up at her and your grip on the handle seems to tighten. Her blue eyes are sparkling, as is the sweat on her forehead and down her toned biceps. The veins on her wrists and on the back of her hands are popping up and you find it insanely attractive. She runs the back of her hand over her brow and breathes out like she just ran a marathon. You swallow thickly; you're still waiting for a day when your complete attraction to her is gone or at least dulled. So far it hasn't happened.
"You tell her" Quinn barks at Brittany, "she's going too fast, she's going to pull a muscle.
"She's right" Brittany nods and smiles down at you, "you achieve nothing by going all for it, you're supposed to pace yourself so you can work out for the longest amount of time"
"I'm fine," you shrug smugly, making sure you flex your muscles and lean forward just that bit more so that the top of your breasts are directly below Brittany's line of sight.
You watch in amusement as blue flickers down for the briefest of moments before her hand is back on your shoulder.
She leans down and almost whispers in your ear "you're going to burn yourself out going like a bunny rabbit" she breathes and you can hear the smile in her voice as her breath tickles the side of your neck. "It's best to go slow and hard" her voice drops lower before she's pulled back up and saunters away from you both toward the treadmills.
You watch her leave in a stunned silence letting your vice grip on the machines handle loosen, you look over to Quinn sheepishly who's already giving you a stern knowing look.
"Is it normal?" you ask weakly.
"Is what normal?" she smirks looking amused.
You look from her and back to Brittany who's still walking away, your eyes drop to her ass and you're disappointed that she's not wearing something tighter.
"To want to fuck someone all the time?"
"Santana," Quinn rolls her eyes and chortles at you, "you got laid last night didn't you?"
"Yup" you bite your lips unable to contain your smugness and grin at her.
"Well I must admit," she says slowly like she doesn't want to be proven wrong about something, "it's nice to see you like this, I can't remember the last time I saw you so…not tense."
You smile beyond touched and nod, "thanks Quinn that means a lot"
You roll your eyes; you knew there was a but coming.
"There's something about her I think you should know"
You stop rowing again and sit unmoving on the machine seat; staring at Quinn thinking you must've misheard her. Her tone is low and conspiratorial like she knows something you don't and you begin to feel dread trickle down your spine horribly.
Quinn looks away, guilt written all over her face, "Well," she begins slowly and fiddles with the strap of her bra, "you know that time you asked me to look into Brittany?"
"For which I regretted and for which you gave me a whole fucking speech about how it was wrong and an invasion of her privacy" you snap, already feeling angry. "Oh god Quinn you found out something didn't you? She doesn't really want to be with me, does she? This was all a joke right?"
You suddenly feel your world is falling apart.
"No, no no Santana no" she says quickly, reaching over to pat you on the arm reassuringly. "But I did find out she had a criminal record"
You stare at her, the world around you slowing down, the words churning around in your head but not really having any meaning. "That's bullshit" you snort and continue to shake your head, Brittany wouldn't do anything wrong. She's got to be mistaken.
"It's true, but it's not as bad as you think, she got all her records expunged which means it was never serious crimes. My curiosity got the better of me and I dug a little deeper and found out it was drug possession and theft that was later expunged from her records when she was twenty three after a three year legal process. I don't know how she managed that since those are serious crimes, it must've been circumstantial for them to get erased from her record."
You know Quinn wouldn't just make up something like this so you sit and stare into space. You begin to feel panicky because you love Brittany so much but do you even know who she is? Part of you is telling yourself of course you do and another part isn't so sure. You can't believe this is happening.
"You should talk to her about it," Quinn suggests.
You're already standing up, sweating, your head suddenly hurting again looking around frantically for blonde hair. You can't see her anywhere. You jog over to Rachel and Kurt by the treadmills.
"Where's Brittany?" you bark at them, not caring what they think of you.
"Toilet," Rachel replies pointing down to a nearby corridor.
You storm down bypassing some people in a hurry and barge into the ladies restroom. You're relieved to find Brittany alone in here and she's drying her hands under the machine. There's one emotion you never thought you'd feel for her again and that's mad, but you are, you're mad at her for not telling you.
"You," you say simply, grabbing the strap of her tank top and dragging her into the nearest cubicle. You slam her up against the wall and lock the door behind you.
She has a smirk on her face.
You roll your eyes and shake your head, already even more annoyed at her, "I'm not in here to do the dirty with you"
"Oh," she breathes looking disappointed.
You try ignoring what's happening between your legs and instead focus on what's happening between your ears.
"Quinn told me about you…your past…"
"My p-past?" she stutters out and her face suddenly looks paler as she shuffles on her feet awkwardly. The space in here is too small you're almost pressed up against her. You have to admit; you and Brittany sure do have a penchant for small awkward places.
"Yeah, why didn't you tell me!? Don't you trust me?"
"Of course I trust you," Brittany snivels out and suddenly her eyes are glossy and she's pouting, not her usual cute pout, more like she's physically trying to stop crying.
"Then you could have just told me you have a criminal record," you hiss carefully even though you haven't heard anyone else come into the toilets.
"Oh," Brittany breathes her tone sounding different.
Is that relief you see?
"Oh, you're talking about that," she mutters, sniffing and suddenly doesn't look as close to tears she did a second ago. She's acting like there's something else you could have been talking about and it just makes you all the more discouraged and confused.
"What else would I be talking about?" you ask folding your arms.
You're not so much as mad at her anymore; more just cross, disappointed even.
Brittany sighs and pinches the bridge of her nose like she's struggling to think clearly. Eventually her eyes meet yours and she leans over closing the toilet lid down and pats the surface of it.
"Sit" she says.
You sit down slowly on the toilet not knowing what's happening but worried, cross and intrigued all the same.
She kneels down before you and rests her arms on your thighs. Her blue eyes look up and meet yours and you see determination but also a sadness there. She still looks so pretty, despite sweat on her brow and under the florescent bright lights of the restroom.
"Remember what I told you yesterday? About taking things slow and not wanting to mess this up?"
You nod and swallow back nerves you're suddenly feeling. What if she breaks up with you for prying? What if she never trusts you again?
"It was Quinn that told me," you say quickly, "I didn't mean to pry honest-"
"Santana, it's OK, really" Brittany sighs and chews her lip in thought. "You know I had a rough time after my parents died and that I was sent to an orphanage?"
You nod again and now you feel terrible because last time she spoke about this and her parents she cried a lot. You don't like it when she cries. "You don't have to explain anything to me Brittany, I think I get it"
"But I want to explain," she says quickly, "at least about my record I do"
You exhale shakily and rest your hands over her arms gripping her a little tighter than you should but it makes her lips twitch at the sides.
"My record was basically stupid things I did when I was sixteen, I sold some pot to the other kids in my orphanage for cash, I was saving up for the future, which is kinda ironic now considering I got all the money I needed two years later" she laughs a little at her own tale, clears her throat and continues, "anyway," she shakes her head and begins picking at the logo on your sweats. "But I spiraled out of control for various reasons, that orphanage was horrible, I always imagined orphanages to be like they are in the movies with lots of friends and the people who run it to be just like the parents you never had or no longer have" she pauses and laughs bitterly. "The people that ran it were two men and one woman, all three of them were vile. The place was unhygienic and a mess, I kept my money in a sock under my bed and that's all the possessions I had, that and the clothes I wore."
You suddenly take her hand just to let her know you're listening and that you're not going to judge her for anything she did under seemingly horrible circumstances. She smiles slowly at your gesture and squeezes your hand back.
"Couples wanting to adopt would come and go but they'd never pick me, eventually I got used to the heartbreak and disappointment."
You literally don't understand. "Why on earth wouldn't anyone want to take you in?" you ask dumbfounded at the very idea.
She holds back a smile at that and shrugs, "I never spoke"
"You never spoke?" you repeat, frowning.
"Nope, never" Brittany says simply. "I was far too nervous to speak to anyone, adults in general kind of scared me"
You stare at her. It's hard to imagine, Brittany not speaking, when all she does now is speak so easily and confidently.
"I wanted them to take me, I honestly did but cat always got my tongue. The mother would usually look me up and down, comment on how pretty I was, the father was always the silent one. It's weird to have people inspect you like you're a piece of property they're about to purchase. They'd begin to ask me questions like how many friends did I have and what my favorite color was and then I'd just sit and stare at them. Once they realized I wasn't going to say anything they'd whisper to themselves, something about moving onto the next one"
You find your heart breaking. You suddenly feel like a monster for thinking you had terrible teen years when you were spoiled by your mom and dad even though you got the feeling they hated you, but you were also popular in school and got straight A's.
"After a while I started getting really bored, I used to sneak into the local library and read every book I could find, the stories in books were better than my own life, they allowed me to escape for a while. A couple of the guys and girls that had been around longer than me at the orphanage started to get into that rebellious teenager stage and so I joined them. I still didn't speak much to them outside of a few words here and there. They called me silent blonde killer"
You snort rolling your eyes, "kids say dumb things"
She laughs quietly at that, "We only had our designated meals in the orphanage though, I had never really ate anything that I really enjoyed, I saw other families in the park with candy and ice-cream and I never knew what any of that tasted like"
You stare open mouthed at her shocked, what is this the 1920's?
"So one time a group of us, pretending we had a gun, went into a local store owned by a large Mexican lady that always scared me. She told us to scram; she knew we didn't have a gun. We were so hungry and sad so a few days later I went back myself, I had stolen a water gun from a new kid that just came into the orphanage and spray-painted it black. I went back to the store, filled up two bags of candy and pointed it at her and told her to give me all the money she had in the register. I'll never forget the look of fear on her face" Brittany whimpers the last part and tears begin to roll down her cheeks.
"Hey, it's OK" you comfort her, holding her hand while stroking her arm with the other one.
"E-e-eventually," Brittany continues, struggling more with the story now, "I gave all the candy to my friends but I didn't tell them about the money, I added that to the money I had in my sock under my bed. I was so sick with guilt and paranoia the police would come I couldn't eat any of that stuff. I spent the remaining months looking over my shoulder and counting down the days till I was out of there"
She pauses and looks back up at you, wiping under her nose and eyes. "You know the rest, sort of. They gave me money to rent an apartment for a while, so before I went there, I ran back to that shop and dumped the sock on the counter before running back out. I was so stupid," she laughs, a tear escaping her eye. "They had installed a CCTV camera after the first time I robbed them, and it's just so typical that they caught me when I was bringing the money back."
You laugh and shake your head, "that's unbelievable bad luck," you nudge her playfully, trying to lighten the mood.
"Yeah," she sighs with a broken smile. "I had to do community service, after that I didn't want that fear inside me ever again. When I was twenty I used some of the money my parents left me and threw myself into education. Multiple things attracted me to gender and sexuality and psychology degrees but mostly I figured I needed to start talking again, and what better way to start talking than doing it for a living? I later looked out legal advice to see if I could get my records expunged, I had to prove my character and contribution to society, which I guess my job already counted as that. I'm ashamed more than anything, that's why I wanted it expunged, so nobody would have to find out about that stupid part of my life, which clearly worked," she added resentfully.
You figure she's told you all she can, or at least all she wants to for now.
"OK," you nod relieved, no longer feeling angry toward her, and if anything feeling slightly ashamed you were. You asking things of her would be like the equivalent of her asking everything of you in your first room 47 meeting, that's pressure nobody needs and you're ashamed you just expected her to divulge everything about her when you haven't did the same.
"There's just a few things I need to know before we go home," you smile calmly at her.
She blinks at you looking puzzled, her head shaking from left to right ever so slightly. "Y-you're not mad at me?" she asks, indisputably confused by your reaction.
You lean down and press your lips against her forehead, sweeping away some hair before rejoining your hand in hers. "I could never be mad at you Britt" you say and kiss the back of her hand gently.
That makes her sob once more, you can see the relief lift from her shoulders and she tries to steady her breathing and stop her tears. "What is it you want to know?" she asks clearing her throat in some vein attempt to make her tone sound normal.
'There's a gap" you state.
"A gap?" she asks confused, her blonde brow creasing.
"A gap," you repeat, "you started your studies when you were twenty but you left the orphanage when you were eighteen, what were you doing in those two years?"
"Oh," she sighs like she was hoping you'd overlook that detail. "I wandered," she says simply with a shrug of the shoulder as she sniffs her last tear away.
"Yes," she says simply again, not elaborating.
"What do you mean?" you urge her to elaborate anyway.
"I went backpacking across Canada and northern America, doing crumby jobs here and there, I didn't want to spend my parents money at that time, it was still safely in my bank account so I just up and left, hitchhiking. Eventually I got to Tennessee and saw the most beautiful farm, it reminded me so much of the one I grew up in and I told myself there and then I would buy that place one day," she smiles fondly and you smile back at her.
It sends a shudder down your spine that you could haven potentially met Brittany years ago as a late teen.
"Still, I wandered," she continues, "never staying in one place for too long, occasionally ended up in a strangers bed, occasionally doing low-pay jobs. I was looking for a purpose I guess" she shrugs.
"Did you ever find it?" you ask eagerly, engrossed in everything she's saying.
"What was it?" you question
"To help people," she says simply.
You frown at her, you know about her helpful nature; sometimes she's too helpful it's almost unnatural.
"Why?" you ask. You want to know why she wants to help people so much yet seems to neglect herself.
"I've got a debt to repay," she says in all her enigmatic charm.
"But you gave that lady her money back-"
"Not that debt-" she interjects and fiddles with the loose part on the knee of your sweats, "another one, not a financial one"
"It's not something you want to talk about is it?" you ask, already knowing and sensing she's bringing her walls back up.
She shakes her head looking guilty.
"And you're still holding out on me aren't you?"
She nods again.
"You'd be a hard person to lose," she quietly reiterates her words from yesterday.
You understand completely now.
Whatever it is she's keeping from you she thinks you'll leave her because of it. Nothing could ever make you leave her. She has to know that. You feel your shoulders slump, any small amount of anger left disperse and instead you just feel sorry for the woman in front of you, she's never looked so small to you and it has nothing to do with the fact she's kneeling.
You begin to stand up, bringing her up gently by the hands with you. She's looking at you with trepidation, like she expects you're going to keep asking why or get mad at her for not telling you everything, but instead you say, "I'm so glad I found you"
Because what if you missed her again like you did years ago at the ranch, what if you never went to room 47? What if she never bought that place?
She stares at you, looking pleased yet confused by your statement.
"I'm so glad you were looking," she smiles back eventually, the sadness almost gone completely from her eyes.
You both eventually say your goodbyes to the others; Quinn asks you if everything is ok and you tell her everything is fine and that you and Brittany have talked. Quinn doesn't look so sure then scolds you for cornering her in a toilet, which on hindsight wasn't the best place to have such a conversation. She asks for details but you shake your head, you respect Brittany too much to repeat what she told you, even to Quinn.
By the time you get home it's 9pm and Brittany, still in her gym gear takes Lucy out for her last walk, her eyes looking tired. Once she's gone you run through to the bedroom, you had planned on snuggling on the sofa and watching movies before you have to start packing tomorrow for the trip to Tennessee but instead you can only think of one thing you want to do tonight.
You feel like a kid on Christmas morning as you quickly take off your clothes and throw them in the corner; you struggle with your sports bra but eventually get it off and slip off your underwear. You then realize you still smell of sweat so you spray deodorant frantically all over yourself then jump into bed, bringing the covers right up to your neck.
Five minutes later and you hear Brittany and Lucy come back.
"Santana?" Brittany calls out your name from the living room.
"Through here," you shout back through to her, unable to keep the excitement embedded in your voice.
Once she appears at the threshold her eyes narrow at you and a smirk spreads itself deliciously across her face, "what are you up to?" she asks, eyeing you suspiciously.
"Nothing," you grin, your grip on the covers tightening.
"Early night huh?" she asks as she saunters into the room and begins taking off her own clothes. "Yeah I feel the same, you kinda talked me all out back there"
You groan, you didn't mean to reopen old wounds for her yet again.
"Sorry, it's just Quinn, she's very protective of me" you laugh a little.
"I know the feeling," she smiles at you as her tank top comes whipping off around her head and her naked torso reveals itself to you. Your heart flutters because of what she said but then stops completely because of what you now see. The contours of her perfect abs are still shining from sweat and her perky breasts are just inviting to be bit into and sucked and…
You swallow thickly unable to keep your intent secret from her any longer, not that it is a secret to her because she's smirking at your eyes like she already knows.
"Mhmm," she makes a sexy noise and takes off her sweats till all she's wearing is her underwear. She bends over near the dresser and begins to rummage through your suitcase of clothes, you wonder what she's doing but honestly you're just distracted so much at the sight of her swaying ass in the air that you don't really care about much else, "ah, found it," she says triumphantly.
She turns around holding your old softball team t-shirt in front of her and you're so embarrassed; you place a palm on your head and blush.
"Aww," she coos, "I think it's cute"
You look back up at her to argue that point but your mouth falls open when she's already put it on. It's so small on her it leaves a gap at the bottom of her stomach. She begins twirling, swaying her ass from side to side like she's putting on a show for you. You don't know what it is exactly that makes the image so sexy, you don't know if it's the slither of skin that reveals her stomach because the shirt is so small, you don't know if it's how tight it is you can see her hardened nipples through the white material, you don't know if it's because it has your name 'Santana' at the top and 'Lopez' near the bottom on the back or simply the mere fact she's wearing something of yours. Again she didn't even ask and you're nowhere near mad, you're overwhelmed that she's comfortable enough to do such things.
She crawls slowly onto the bed and settles next to you, you try fighting a grin at your own inside joke because she still has no idea you're naked under here.
"You look incredible in that, most things actually," you breathe out, unable to keep the lust from your voice.
She licks her lips, looks down and plays with the hem of the shirt. She's so adorable. "I was thinking, we really need to clear out space for you in my drawers, can't have your clothes in that suitcase forever"
You almost want to cry at how happy her suggestion makes you, you beam at her, probably looking like a maniac but you don't care. She's letting you in.
She flings a leg over your waist and suddenly she's perched on top of you and you groan. Only the comforter is separating you from her but you feel an incredible warmth and heat generating from her thighs, you also ignore the pounding between your legs as the weight of her own just settled onto yours. Oh god. You bite your lip so hard you draw blood but you need to not rock up into her. She so wonderfully warm and heavy on top of you.
"Geez, someone's sensitive," Brittany giggles and to your torture begins rubbing her palms up and down the comforter, above where your bare stomach is. "You ok?" she asks her ministrations slowing ever so slightly.
You blink and your breathing gets heavier and heavier because she doesn't know her hands are gliding and skimming the underside of your boobs and almost as low as between your legs.
You swallow thickly, "more than ok"
She smiles back, her eyes twinkling from the moonlight coming in trough the window. You're so in love with her.
But to blurt it out now is unworthy of her.
You gasp loudly when she palms your boobs over the covers and she raises an eyebrow like you shouldn't be this easily turned on, and then you secretly judge her because she's never had to endure her own company.
"It's all that teasing you did at the gym," you breathe out as steadily as possible as her hands roam up and down the cover, your skin burning under the covers.
She pulls a face of mock-offense "you started it"
"Yeah, and also maybe the fact that I'm naked under here," you blurt out.
"Naked?" Brittany breathes out and suddenly her eyes drop to your chest then further down to between your legs, "Oh," she exhales slowly like she's just realized exactly where she's sitting.
Her hooded eyes meet yours and she chews her lips almost looking uncertain. "Should I join you?"
"No," you say simply with a smirk. "Keep that shirt on, everything else can go"
You almost laugh because apart from the shirt she's only got her underwear on, but still, that's exactly what you want to go.
She crawls up so she's leaning over you, her eyes travelling down your neck till she places her hand slowly over the edge of the comforter and pulls it down gradually. Your chest heaves as the air hits your torso and you feel her eyes all over your body. She manoeuvres out the way and you almost miss the pressure of her weight on top of you.
She kneels up on the bed; her eyes fixated on your own as she drags her underwear down her legs then leans to the side so she can kick them away once they're at her calves.
She suddenly whips the covers back and you're lying naked completely with nothing to shield you from her shameless gaze.
"Please," you whisper, "make love to me"
She smiles serenely at you, her eyes shining so sunny as she somehow gracefully climbs on top of you. Her feet are over yours, her limbs settle onto yours, you gasp when her sex rests gently over your own, only the top part of your clits are gently bumping but it causes your eyes to flutter and your blood to boil hot beneath her. Her abs and breasts push against yours and now you're beginning to regret telling her to keep that shirt on. Finally her head is hovering just above yours and she's looking down at you, blinking slowly like your touch makes her feel lost yet equally as at home.
She leans down, her face suspended over yours, eyes smiling, noses nudging shyly. "Hi," she giggles.
"Hey" you choke out, your heart in your throat.
You chew your lip harder.
I love you
You can't allow yourself to say it, not now, not yet.
She leans down and kisses you soothingly; it's the tenderest kiss you've ever received and you tentatively move your lips against hers. It's slow and blurry as you both breathe lightly against one another, her weight settling on top of you fully and you continue kissing like it's your first time kissing for what feels like a long time.
Eventually her hands slide into your hair, her nose nudging playfully against yours as she deepens her kisses. She pushes her tongue gently past your parted lips and she's inside you, stroking gently, lazily almost. You whimper and will your own tongue to respond. Your hands glide their way down her back and rest at her hips, she feels so good you begin to rub her up and down, shifting the t-shirt she has on upwards with every stroke.
Her tongue stretches and rolls itself around your own and you can't breathe or think. Brittany is panting into your mouth as you try tracing the contours of hers with your tongue. You can feel her heartbeat thudding inside her chest, thumping against your own and you feel all over the place. You feel high and drunk because you can't see anything, all you're focusing on is the tongue fluttering inside your mouth, the pounding between your legs and the thumping of her wonderful heart against your own. You're drunk on her.
You start touching her more frantically, tracing her hips with your fingers, rubbing her back encouragingly and she moans into your mouth with every change of direction. You ball the shirt she has on in frustration, you've never wanted someone to kiss you literally all over your body but you want her to and you want to do the same to her. She tangles and tugs your hair gently in response and you can't get enough of her.
You begin to roll your bodies into one another and it becomes two heated bodies desperately clamoring for some sort of clarity, like there's so much you want to do to each other but none of you know where to start.
You feel numb under her tongue, she makes you feel so strong, strong enough to endure anything and everything but the sheer weight of her love, for her love makes you weak in the knees and in the heart. You're the smallest person under her weight but you still feel like the most important.
She disconnects your lips and you feel yourself coming back to reality.
"I want to try something," she whispers almost shyly against your cheek as she places a kiss there too.
"Anything," you smile, blushing.
You don't even need to think about it, Brittany can do or say anything she wants around you, or to you.
She giggles softly, the sound low and flirty.
You groan in disappointment once her body leaves yours and she's sitting in-between your legs (which you spread a little to accommodate her). You feel excitement pool in your lower stomach when her hooded eyes meet yours as she smirks a little. She runs her hands down your legs and cups them so they're under your ankles, "bend your knees," she asks quietly.
Feeling your heart thrum in-between your legs and throughout the rest of your body you bring your knee's up till you're literally spread open for her and her eyes are just staring intently between them. She kneels and scoots forward, pressing against your knees so you're bringing them up even further.
"I want to feel you," she breathes out huskily.
You blink profusely because you're beginning to sweat from panting so much.
She scoots close in-between your legs till she can't get closer then lifts her leg over the top of yours, straddling the inside of your thigh her core coming into direct contact with your own.
"Holy fuck," you exclaim and throw a palm over your eyes.
She nestles herself into you, bending your other leg up and repositioning herself that every little move she makes a zap sends itself form her core to yours and it feels incredible. You've never felt anything like this before, you weren't expecting it to feel this good. The first thing you notice is how wet she is, and how her wetness is sinking and melding into your own. You take your palm away and stare up at her.
A playful smirk is on her face but her eyes are full of love and adoration, for the few moments they're open at least, you watch as they flutter shut and her gasp as she rocks slowly into you.
In that moment your hot wet centers collide and you feel your stomach begin to do summer saults. She rocks her hips forward, slowly at first, your folds parting and sinking into one another creating the most delicious hot heat. You feel your sex throb gently against hers and hers yours; the throb gets harder the more she cants her hips into you.
You feel like someone's shot you in the head because you're literally derived of all thought, your body is just thrumming in pleasure as she tortures you slowly with her sex, sliding up and down against yours, the pressure in your stomach getting tighter and tighter. You feel yourself incredibly wet and willing for her, you feel like you're going to come already and everything's going to come gushing out of you. She watches you, her gyrating getting slightly fast and you arch and writhe under her and you don't know how to do anything but repeatedly tell her not to stop.
Your hips begin rocking up into hers of your own accord.
"Ooooh," you hear her moan, her voice high pitched and soon enough she's grinding down on you and you're canting up into her. You see her face sweat and a frustrated frown on her brow, like she's trying so hard to get to the finish but doesn't quite want to because it feels so good.
And it does feel so good.
So fucking good.
The rhythms is sloppy at first but soon enough you figure out a rhythm that bangs your sensitive clits together at just the right time and you see stars every time. You feel like all her body heat is emanating from and hotly flushing through her own sex and into yours, then spreading through the rest of your body as you thrust up and up, winding you both tighter and tighter.
"More," she groans out and suddenly she's pressing down on you so hard you don't know where she ends and you begin. She leans forward for leverage and grabs the headboard behind you. Suddenly she's rocking so fast into you that she begins rocking the bed and the headboard begins to bang and thud against the back wall.
You splutter out something that gets caught in your throat, deciding you can't speak you thrust up harder and faster into her, her own movements encouraging you onwards.
You're both so close you can feel it, you can hear it from between your thighs, the most satisfying wet smacking sounds you've ever heard come from both your cores sliding and delving against one another. You can't stop moving against her, your hips are beginning to ache and you're out of breath but you can't stop. You think if the room went on fire, and it's so hot it might just, you still wouldn't be able to stop.
The banging of the headboard continues, as does the banging of your heart like a loud hollow drum, or maybe it's just the rocking of the bed, you're in nirvana too much to notice or care.
You begin to soak in details, like the sexy protruding hipbone that's snaking, gyrating back and forth with her hips, grinding down on your hard. It's the most erotic and sensual image you've ever witnessed, Brittany moving her hips, back and forth like some frantic dance on top of you. Her right hand suddenly grabs your abs and you gasp. She then moves it quickly like that wasn't what she meant to do and instead grabs your hand sitting at your wayside. She intertwines your fingers in hers and she's grabbing and squeezing your hand like a vice grip as she continues to move back and forth on you. The sensation it's causing your stomach is sheer bliss, it's like when you were a kid and you swung really high on a swing then came down, that's how much she's affecting your insides.
You've never been this turned on in your entire life, every time your clits rub against each other it's like an electric shock shoots throughout your veins and jolts your stomach to life. It wasn't even hard for Brittany to move so seamlessly on top of you, you're both so stimulated that your own wetness lubricates both your gyrating movements. The idea, the mere feel of your juices mixing with hers and it's not long till you're shuddering under her, a quivering mess.
"Come with me," she breathes out hoarsely.
You moan loudly.
You already are.
She shudders forward, her left hand clinging desperately to the bedcovers, scrunching it up in her hand tightly, her right grasping your own hand so forcefully you feel the blood drain from it. You watch mesmerized as she trembles on top of you as you continue to rock up into her and she's almost frozen on top of you, her mouth gaping open. You've never seen a more perfect sight. Her head is shuddering as a deep rasping moan escapes her lips and you feel her sex quiver and tremble over your own. The feeling causes your eyes to roll all the way to the back of your head and you arch your back up and shudder against her, feeling yourself climax. Only strangled noises escape the back of your throat as you roll and roll your hips, desperate and needy for more. Everything is hazy as you tighten and tighten, trying so hard to keep this wonderful elated feeling in your lower stomach to last, you rock into her sex, the wettest it's ever been and you feel yourself pulsate and a satisfying burning sensation spread throughout your body. You tumble over the edge forgetting everything you know.
The banging stops as she stills her movements and after a few minutes of both your bodies just shaking she stills on top of you, breathing fast and hard.
"Oh. My. God" she pants, a sweaty glow around her face as a smile spreads across it.
You can't even speak.
"I…I can't feel my vagina" you blurt out
You both burst out laughing but then abruptly stop when you still feel your centers move against each other.
You both make the same noise at the same time and giggle more carefully at each other, you're both so sensitive you almost don't want her to move or you'll come all over again. She gently gets up like she's afraid of touching you now and you feel your wet melded folds separate and unstick from one another. Your heart is still racing.
She climbs lazily over you, like she's about to just fall limp ontop of you and fall into slumber. She nestles her head at your side, nuzzling into your neck and gives a content, satisfied sigh that travels down your neck to your bare breasts.
"Is it weird falling asleep next to another woman?" she asks.
You chortle at her cuteness and her randomness, now she wants to talk when you're still trying to remember how to breathe.
You shake your head because that's pretty much all you can do.
"I supposed it must be after being with Sam all this time" she ponders aloud.
"I thought it would be," you say, your voice dry and croaky, "but it isn't"
"Hey I was thinking," she says cautiously, "when we go to Tennessee maybe it's a good idea to practice being…out?"
You're too exhausted to even feel the surge of nerves that idea usually brings with it.
"You know, since you don't know anyone down there and will likely never see them again, maybe I could introduce you as my girlfriend?"
"I'd like that, I'll try really hard," you promise her.
"OK" she says and you can hear the smile in her voice, "goodnight gorgeous" she says softly, placing a tiny little moist kiss on your pulse point and quickly falls asleep breathing peacefully into your neck.
You can't sleep so fast because your heart and head is still all over the place. As she breathes quietly into the hollow of your neck you realize she creates a sense of security, almost the warm glow of protection you'd receive from a mother figure, one you never quite experienced from your own.
I love you
You say it out loud in your head as you reach down and take her pinky finger in yours.
Despite the fact she's fast asleep her finger twitches back in response.
She's no longer the blank canvas you once met but she's slowly forming and letting you see her piece by piece and it really is the most beautiful piece of art you've ever seen.
You understand and feel there's no more need for words. You're going to have to be patient with her they way she is with you, there's things she doesn't want to tell you just like there's things you don't want to tell her, but you hope you both grow even closer and be able to tell each other those secrets everyone keeps in their hearts. What you do know is this – you love her, and one day you're going to tell her just how much.
But for now you have to deal with people looking at you, both of you and knowing what you are.
For a holiday you thought would be one pill days are now turning into four pill days.
You'd take all the pills in the world for her though.
You love her that much.