Fic: Let's Blame the Heat - (8/?) NC17
Title: Let's Blame the Heat
Pairing: Santana/Brittany
Rating: NC17/M
Summary: Santana would like to blame the heat, but it's much more than that; it's all Brittany.
Spoilers: None really, but it's a first-time fic so before they started doing the nasty or telling people about it on the phone.
Disclaimer: These characters are not mine and I make no money from them.
Chapter Eight
Santana drove down the street like a woman possessed; lucky not to crash the car at least three times before she turned the corner and slowed a little as she hit a main road with more traffic. Her eyes were stinging as she held back tears she refused to release. How could she possibly be in love with Brittany?
She didn’t know how it had happened, or when exactly, but she knew it for sure as the squeeze in her chest made her almost dizzy with its intensity. It was embarrassing, mortifying, and so not what she wanted. Santana prided herself on being aloof with guys she dated. She didn’t let ‘feelings’ get in the way of anything, but Brittany had wormed her way inside her and just wouldn’t stop wriggling.
“Damnit,” she yelled into the emptiness of her car, slamming her hand against the steering wheel. “This is fucking stupid.”
Her nostrils flared and she looked for a place she could pull over as her eyes misted to the point she could barely see.
Once parked next to the curb Santana ran her hands over her face, willing away the tears, the feelings inside her, and everything that went with them. She had to get a grip, or . . . just relent and let it happen. Neither prospect filled her with an overwhelming sense of calm. She knew she was probably just delirious. She knew she was too young to go around falling for friends she didn’t want to lose. Knew this was probably just a stupid crush gone too far. She knew she was lying to herself if she believed any of that; the twinge in her chest told her as much.
Swiping away at the few tears that had fallen, Santana took a shaky breath and let it out slowly. So she was gay, or bi at least; that much was clear now. It wasn’t what she wanted but she couldn’t stop the way she felt, the things she wanted. Santana knew she’d have to deal with it and couldn’t just keep pushing it aside. It was obviously who she was, regardless of whether or not she was happy about it.
“Ugh!” she grunted, looking down at herself as if allowing herself to accept it - at least to some degree - would somehow have changed her.
She was still Santana, however. Still just as hot, just as fierce, just as much of a girl as she had been two minutes before. Maybe if she could force her mind past those scary stereotypical thoughts that dwelled in her head about being gay she could cope with all this. It wasn’t going to be easy, but Santana realised that you couldn’t stop being gay just because you wanted to. It wasn’t a choice. Hadn’t been her choice to desire Brittany the way she did. To fall for her.
And in all her tangled emotions, Santana sat for a moment and recalled just what Brittany had said before she’d run from her house.
Brittany wanted her too; or at least she’d told her so.
She wasn’t certain what that meant or how it changed things, but remembering Brittany’s soft touch and gentle hands made her close her eyes and imagine. Maybe Brittany had been telling the truth and not just trying to do the nice thing. Santana wasn’t sure if she could trust that small flicker of hope, and didn’t know if it would be right to allow it. Brittany was special to her and Santana would never forgive herself for harming the girl in any way.
As Santana regained some composure and got ready to pull back out into the traffic so she could go home and wallow in her baffling emotions, her cell phone rang beside her on the passenger seat.
She lifted it up and saw Brittany’s name flashing at her. Hitting the little red button to deny the call, Santana sighed to herself; she was being a coward and she knew it.
The phone beeped again; a text message this time.
Deciding she couldn’t ignore Brittany completely, Santana opened the message, unsure what Brittany would make of the way she’d reacted to her touch, and the way she’d stormed out at Brittany’s declaration. She almost didn’t read the message, but she knew she had to.
A minute later Santana felt her lungs beginning to burn as she held her breath, mouth open in wonder.
Taking a sudden, much needed gulp of air and blinking, she looked again at the message she’d just read. Brittany, in no uncertain terms, was definitely the brave one in this situation. She’d dared to cross that line.
‘I meant it. I want you.’ The text had begun. ‘I know you want it too. Want me to kiss you. Touch you. Have sex with you. Come back, my parents won’t be back until later.’
There really was no mistaking Brittany’s intentions with the text. She was offering exactly what Santana wanted, offering herself, but Santana wasn’t sure she was strong enough to accept. And there was more to this than just wanting to fuck; she had to decide if going back was the sensible thing to do for either of them.
As Santana subconsciously checked herself in the mirror over the passenger seat, wiping at her eyes and making sure her ponytail was just as neat as it always was, she heard her phone chime once again.
Without hesitation this time she read the new text from Brittany.
‘Don’t be scared.’ It read. ‘We’ll be ok. And I really want to be with you. And you smelled really good today.’
A small smile drifted over Santana’s lips and she sighed in resignation. Though it pretty much terrified her she knew she had to turn around and go back or they’d never be the same again, and Santana would forever know she’d been too much of a coward to take life by the horns and just live it. Brittany didn’t seem scared or worried, though Santana doubted Brittany felt quite as emotionally attached to the idea of them being together as more than friends. She supposed for Brittany it was just about the basics. About the sex.
Brittany wasn’t in love like Santana clearly was, and that was what made Santana pause and bite her lower lip before turning the car around and heading back towards Brittany’s house.
She was well aware that this was probably madness and that it could go horribly wrong, but things were already going wrong and there was no way she could stop thinking of Brittany in the way she had been.
And she needed her friend. She needed Brittany.
Pulling up back outside Brittany’s house Santana felt her hands shaking. What was she going to say? How was she going to explain herself? Santana didn’t have those answers, just a whole load more questions. She knew she couldn’t tell Brittany she’d been falling for her, that would just complicate things further, but maybe she could accept what Brittany was willing to offer her to see where it went. She had to trust Brittany’s declaration that they’d be ok.
Pushing the door open to her car Santana stepped out, straightening her Cheerio uniform and trying to stand tall. She saw the front door of the house swing open but Brittany didn’t come out; she was waiting inside for Santana. With a slightly shaky sigh and a quick look up and down the street, Santana made her way back up the drive and into the house.
Her heart was beating faster than could possibly be healthy, but she tried to remain composed; feeling and looking like a virgin on prom night really didn’t gel well with her image. As soon as she closed the front door behind her and moved towards the living room Brittany appeared, looking at Santana timidly as she clasped her hands together in front of her. For a moment Santana wanted to turn and run again, but the hopeful glint in Brittany’s eye held her firm.
“Sorry I yelled,” Santana mumbled, trying to break the uncomfortable silence.
“It’s ok,” Brittany replied, her voice soft and reassuring.
Silence settled on them again and Santana cursed herself for being so pathetic. She was supposed to be good at this kind of thing. She was supposed to know what she wanted and go after it without a second thought, but Brittany wasn’t just some boy she wanted to fuck. Wasn’t just someone to use.
“Are you staying?” Brittany suddenly asked, practically looking at Santana through her eyelashes, as coy as anything, which made Santana almost want to chuckle.
She’d seen Brittany use that look on many a boy she wanted to wrap around her finger. It worked on Santana exactly the same way, but she was still nervous and uneasy about this whole thing. It made her want to claw at her own skin so she could find the real Santana somewhere inside; the one that wasn’t scared and embarrassed. The one full of confidence and self-assured swagger. Santana knew she still had those things, she just needed to harness them again.
Watching as Brittany stepped forward Santana let her gaze wander over her. Instead of looking away or disguising the fact she obviously found Brittany attractive, for once she let the other girl see it in her eyes. If Brittany really wanted this, then Santana had to make sure she realised just what it entailed. Not that they’d have to jump into bed together right away; in fact, that idea kind of freaked Santana out more than necessary. She didn’t exactly know what to do in bed with another girl, though she could imagine, and had done quite a bit.
“Brit,” Santana began as Brittany stopped in front of her. She wasn’t sure what she wanted to say, but it didn’t seem to matter.
“Let’s go make out,” Brittany said without hesitation, capturing one of Santana’s hands in her own and pulling her towards the stairs that led up to her room.
Santana blinked rapidly and allowed herself to be tugged along, wondering how exactly their roles had become so reversed. She wanted to ask Brittany if she was really ok with this and if she even realised what it all meant, but as they reached Brittany’s room she found her mouth had gone dry and she couldn’t think much past the fact they’d soon be in a space where there was a bed. It was a bed they’d shared before, as best friends do, but everything was different now - or so Santana felt.
Letting go of Santana’s hand Brittany moved around the room, closing her blinds, clearing the bed of pieces of clothing, switching on lamps. Santana watched, still feeling uncertain even though Brittany was acting as if nothing unusual was happening here. Evidently it was only Santana that was freaking out, and she guessed that made sense as Brittany always took everything in her stride. Nothing much fazed Brittany, unless it was something that upset Santana.
“Why are you acting so normal?” Santana asked, feeling decidedly silly for being so tense.
Brittany stopped what she was doing - pushing soft toys from her pillow - and looked at Santana as if she’d just grown another head for asking such a question.
“Why shouldn’t I?” she queried with a shrug and a smile.
Santana shook her head, unable to find the right words that would share just how crazy she thought it was for them to be contemplating this. Obviously Brittany wasn’t thinking along the same lines and clearly crazy was not what this was for her.
“Sit down with me?” Brittany then asked, still smiling as Santana hovered by the door.
With a shuffle, Brittany moved onto her bed, though she reclined back on her pillows so she was more laying than sitting. It made Santana swallow hard and then roll her eyes at herself for being such an obvious newbie at this. It wasn’t as if she hadn’t been in this situation a ton of times before; in all innocence with Brittany, and in less than innocent situations with guys she’d used and abused in the past. It was stupid for her to be feeling so out of her depth.
Gritting her teeth and reaching into herself to find the confidence she knew was in there somewhere, Santana sauntered over to the bed, doing her best to look as nonchalant as she could. Her gaze travelled up Brittany’s legs as the skirt to her Cheerio uniform rode up a little with her position. As if noticing, Brittany bent her knee so it slid even further up. It was all Santana could do then to walk in a straight line without tripping over as she finally reached the bed.
Brittany was smiling up at her and Santana frowned, angry with herself for not being the one in control. She felt petulant and moody and as she sat back on the pillows next to Brittany she folded her arms and scowled, refusing to look at Brittany’s face any longer - the trust and tenderness she saw there was just too much to handle right now.
She felt the bed dip and Brittany moved, turning towards Santana so she was resting on her elbow.
“Relax,” Brittany said, her voice taking on a reassuring quality as if she were talking down a jumper from the roof of a building.
Santana was so far removed from relaxed it wasn’t even funny. Half of her wanted to dive out of the window and run home, and the other half of her wanted to press Brittany down into the mattress and have her way with her. Torn this way and that by her emotions, she couldn’t imagine that relaxing was anywhere within her grasp right now.
When she felt Brittany’s fingers trailing softly over her arm, stroking lightly, Santana nearly jumped out of her skin. She was being ridiculous, she knew, but this was weird and worrying, and frightening. She wanted Brittany but there was still that nagging voice in her head telling her it was wrong to want such things, and that she’d be somehow taking advantage of Brittany’s friendship.
Santana needed to get a handle on this situation. There had to be a way she could regain her control.
“Ok, we need some rules,” Santana blurted, turning more towards Brittany as Brittany’s fingers continued to whisper over her skin. “If we’re gonna . . . go there,” she said, for want of a better way to describe things, “then you need to know it’s not serious. We’re not gay, and we’re not gonna be gay together. It’ll just be . . .”
“Santana,” Brittany interrupted, “I don’t care what we are, I just know I like you, and that I think about you a lot. I think about you not wearing clothes a lot. Like . . . all the time.”
She gazed into Santana’s eyes and if it were possible Santana felt that little bit better. They’d both been thinking the same things apparently. The tension in Santana’s shoulders released slightly and she allowed her gaze to fall to Brittany’s lips; she wanted to kiss them, to taste them. Santana could feel her stomach starting to flutter as she drifted closer to Brittany, the barriers she’d placed around herself finally beginning to crack as she gave in to what she needed.
This could be ok. They could be ok if they just allowed it to happen and didn’t try to stick a label to it, or to themselves. If she didn’t dwell on the fact she’d fallen for Brittany and taking this step was a huge risk.
Of course, Santana was fooling herself just a little as the labels were already there; she’d started thinking of herself as at least bi already, but Brittany didn’t need to know that. And she didn’t need to know of how much Santana cared for her, as more than a friend. At least this way she’d keep some measure of control.
Control felt good.
Taking a steadying breath, Santana finally found the well of confidence inside herself that she’d lost track of. Brittany wanted her; it was clear in her eyes, lidded and heavy, and the way her lips were parted, ready for Santana to take them. Seeing it so easily, so clearly in front of her made her feel more certain of how she felt herself. Made her feel almost powerful.
Giving Brittany a quick grin, Santana moved suddenly, throwing herself up over Brittany so she was straddling her on the bed, her hands resting either side of Brittany’s head.
“Don’t tell anybody about this,” Santana warned, lowering herself closer to Brittany, almost moaning as she felt Brittany’s hips twitch up to meet her own. “And . . . it’s just about sex, nothing else,” she lied, bringing her lips close to Brittany’s.
“Ok,” Brittany said softly, looking up at Santana with complete trust.
The last of Santana’s resolve slipped away when Brittany’s hand reached up to touch her face, fingers gentle. Almost too gentle.
This was about more than sex and she could see it in Brittany’s eyes, but she didn’t say anything as she brought their lips together in a clash of frantic need and pent up desire that had them both breathing hard in an instant.
Control definitely felt good.
TBC...
Pairing: Santana/Brittany
Rating: NC17/M
Summary: Santana would like to blame the heat, but it's much more than that; it's all Brittany.
Spoilers: None really, but it's a first-time fic so before they started doing the nasty or telling people about it on the phone.
Disclaimer: These characters are not mine and I make no money from them.
Chapter Eight
Santana drove down the street like a woman possessed; lucky not to crash the car at least three times before she turned the corner and slowed a little as she hit a main road with more traffic. Her eyes were stinging as she held back tears she refused to release. How could she possibly be in love with Brittany?
She didn’t know how it had happened, or when exactly, but she knew it for sure as the squeeze in her chest made her almost dizzy with its intensity. It was embarrassing, mortifying, and so not what she wanted. Santana prided herself on being aloof with guys she dated. She didn’t let ‘feelings’ get in the way of anything, but Brittany had wormed her way inside her and just wouldn’t stop wriggling.
“Damnit,” she yelled into the emptiness of her car, slamming her hand against the steering wheel. “This is fucking stupid.”
Her nostrils flared and she looked for a place she could pull over as her eyes misted to the point she could barely see.
Once parked next to the curb Santana ran her hands over her face, willing away the tears, the feelings inside her, and everything that went with them. She had to get a grip, or . . . just relent and let it happen. Neither prospect filled her with an overwhelming sense of calm. She knew she was probably just delirious. She knew she was too young to go around falling for friends she didn’t want to lose. Knew this was probably just a stupid crush gone too far. She knew she was lying to herself if she believed any of that; the twinge in her chest told her as much.
Swiping away at the few tears that had fallen, Santana took a shaky breath and let it out slowly. So she was gay, or bi at least; that much was clear now. It wasn’t what she wanted but she couldn’t stop the way she felt, the things she wanted. Santana knew she’d have to deal with it and couldn’t just keep pushing it aside. It was obviously who she was, regardless of whether or not she was happy about it.
“Ugh!” she grunted, looking down at herself as if allowing herself to accept it - at least to some degree - would somehow have changed her.
She was still Santana, however. Still just as hot, just as fierce, just as much of a girl as she had been two minutes before. Maybe if she could force her mind past those scary stereotypical thoughts that dwelled in her head about being gay she could cope with all this. It wasn’t going to be easy, but Santana realised that you couldn’t stop being gay just because you wanted to. It wasn’t a choice. Hadn’t been her choice to desire Brittany the way she did. To fall for her.
And in all her tangled emotions, Santana sat for a moment and recalled just what Brittany had said before she’d run from her house.
Brittany wanted her too; or at least she’d told her so.
She wasn’t certain what that meant or how it changed things, but remembering Brittany’s soft touch and gentle hands made her close her eyes and imagine. Maybe Brittany had been telling the truth and not just trying to do the nice thing. Santana wasn’t sure if she could trust that small flicker of hope, and didn’t know if it would be right to allow it. Brittany was special to her and Santana would never forgive herself for harming the girl in any way.
As Santana regained some composure and got ready to pull back out into the traffic so she could go home and wallow in her baffling emotions, her cell phone rang beside her on the passenger seat.
She lifted it up and saw Brittany’s name flashing at her. Hitting the little red button to deny the call, Santana sighed to herself; she was being a coward and she knew it.
The phone beeped again; a text message this time.
Deciding she couldn’t ignore Brittany completely, Santana opened the message, unsure what Brittany would make of the way she’d reacted to her touch, and the way she’d stormed out at Brittany’s declaration. She almost didn’t read the message, but she knew she had to.
A minute later Santana felt her lungs beginning to burn as she held her breath, mouth open in wonder.
Taking a sudden, much needed gulp of air and blinking, she looked again at the message she’d just read. Brittany, in no uncertain terms, was definitely the brave one in this situation. She’d dared to cross that line.
‘I meant it. I want you.’ The text had begun. ‘I know you want it too. Want me to kiss you. Touch you. Have sex with you. Come back, my parents won’t be back until later.’
There really was no mistaking Brittany’s intentions with the text. She was offering exactly what Santana wanted, offering herself, but Santana wasn’t sure she was strong enough to accept. And there was more to this than just wanting to fuck; she had to decide if going back was the sensible thing to do for either of them.
As Santana subconsciously checked herself in the mirror over the passenger seat, wiping at her eyes and making sure her ponytail was just as neat as it always was, she heard her phone chime once again.
Without hesitation this time she read the new text from Brittany.
‘Don’t be scared.’ It read. ‘We’ll be ok. And I really want to be with you. And you smelled really good today.’
A small smile drifted over Santana’s lips and she sighed in resignation. Though it pretty much terrified her she knew she had to turn around and go back or they’d never be the same again, and Santana would forever know she’d been too much of a coward to take life by the horns and just live it. Brittany didn’t seem scared or worried, though Santana doubted Brittany felt quite as emotionally attached to the idea of them being together as more than friends. She supposed for Brittany it was just about the basics. About the sex.
Brittany wasn’t in love like Santana clearly was, and that was what made Santana pause and bite her lower lip before turning the car around and heading back towards Brittany’s house.
She was well aware that this was probably madness and that it could go horribly wrong, but things were already going wrong and there was no way she could stop thinking of Brittany in the way she had been.
And she needed her friend. She needed Brittany.
Pulling up back outside Brittany’s house Santana felt her hands shaking. What was she going to say? How was she going to explain herself? Santana didn’t have those answers, just a whole load more questions. She knew she couldn’t tell Brittany she’d been falling for her, that would just complicate things further, but maybe she could accept what Brittany was willing to offer her to see where it went. She had to trust Brittany’s declaration that they’d be ok.
Pushing the door open to her car Santana stepped out, straightening her Cheerio uniform and trying to stand tall. She saw the front door of the house swing open but Brittany didn’t come out; she was waiting inside for Santana. With a slightly shaky sigh and a quick look up and down the street, Santana made her way back up the drive and into the house.
Her heart was beating faster than could possibly be healthy, but she tried to remain composed; feeling and looking like a virgin on prom night really didn’t gel well with her image. As soon as she closed the front door behind her and moved towards the living room Brittany appeared, looking at Santana timidly as she clasped her hands together in front of her. For a moment Santana wanted to turn and run again, but the hopeful glint in Brittany’s eye held her firm.
“Sorry I yelled,” Santana mumbled, trying to break the uncomfortable silence.
“It’s ok,” Brittany replied, her voice soft and reassuring.
Silence settled on them again and Santana cursed herself for being so pathetic. She was supposed to be good at this kind of thing. She was supposed to know what she wanted and go after it without a second thought, but Brittany wasn’t just some boy she wanted to fuck. Wasn’t just someone to use.
“Are you staying?” Brittany suddenly asked, practically looking at Santana through her eyelashes, as coy as anything, which made Santana almost want to chuckle.
She’d seen Brittany use that look on many a boy she wanted to wrap around her finger. It worked on Santana exactly the same way, but she was still nervous and uneasy about this whole thing. It made her want to claw at her own skin so she could find the real Santana somewhere inside; the one that wasn’t scared and embarrassed. The one full of confidence and self-assured swagger. Santana knew she still had those things, she just needed to harness them again.
Watching as Brittany stepped forward Santana let her gaze wander over her. Instead of looking away or disguising the fact she obviously found Brittany attractive, for once she let the other girl see it in her eyes. If Brittany really wanted this, then Santana had to make sure she realised just what it entailed. Not that they’d have to jump into bed together right away; in fact, that idea kind of freaked Santana out more than necessary. She didn’t exactly know what to do in bed with another girl, though she could imagine, and had done quite a bit.
“Brit,” Santana began as Brittany stopped in front of her. She wasn’t sure what she wanted to say, but it didn’t seem to matter.
“Let’s go make out,” Brittany said without hesitation, capturing one of Santana’s hands in her own and pulling her towards the stairs that led up to her room.
Santana blinked rapidly and allowed herself to be tugged along, wondering how exactly their roles had become so reversed. She wanted to ask Brittany if she was really ok with this and if she even realised what it all meant, but as they reached Brittany’s room she found her mouth had gone dry and she couldn’t think much past the fact they’d soon be in a space where there was a bed. It was a bed they’d shared before, as best friends do, but everything was different now - or so Santana felt.
Letting go of Santana’s hand Brittany moved around the room, closing her blinds, clearing the bed of pieces of clothing, switching on lamps. Santana watched, still feeling uncertain even though Brittany was acting as if nothing unusual was happening here. Evidently it was only Santana that was freaking out, and she guessed that made sense as Brittany always took everything in her stride. Nothing much fazed Brittany, unless it was something that upset Santana.
“Why are you acting so normal?” Santana asked, feeling decidedly silly for being so tense.
Brittany stopped what she was doing - pushing soft toys from her pillow - and looked at Santana as if she’d just grown another head for asking such a question.
“Why shouldn’t I?” she queried with a shrug and a smile.
Santana shook her head, unable to find the right words that would share just how crazy she thought it was for them to be contemplating this. Obviously Brittany wasn’t thinking along the same lines and clearly crazy was not what this was for her.
“Sit down with me?” Brittany then asked, still smiling as Santana hovered by the door.
With a shuffle, Brittany moved onto her bed, though she reclined back on her pillows so she was more laying than sitting. It made Santana swallow hard and then roll her eyes at herself for being such an obvious newbie at this. It wasn’t as if she hadn’t been in this situation a ton of times before; in all innocence with Brittany, and in less than innocent situations with guys she’d used and abused in the past. It was stupid for her to be feeling so out of her depth.
Gritting her teeth and reaching into herself to find the confidence she knew was in there somewhere, Santana sauntered over to the bed, doing her best to look as nonchalant as she could. Her gaze travelled up Brittany’s legs as the skirt to her Cheerio uniform rode up a little with her position. As if noticing, Brittany bent her knee so it slid even further up. It was all Santana could do then to walk in a straight line without tripping over as she finally reached the bed.
Brittany was smiling up at her and Santana frowned, angry with herself for not being the one in control. She felt petulant and moody and as she sat back on the pillows next to Brittany she folded her arms and scowled, refusing to look at Brittany’s face any longer - the trust and tenderness she saw there was just too much to handle right now.
She felt the bed dip and Brittany moved, turning towards Santana so she was resting on her elbow.
“Relax,” Brittany said, her voice taking on a reassuring quality as if she were talking down a jumper from the roof of a building.
Santana was so far removed from relaxed it wasn’t even funny. Half of her wanted to dive out of the window and run home, and the other half of her wanted to press Brittany down into the mattress and have her way with her. Torn this way and that by her emotions, she couldn’t imagine that relaxing was anywhere within her grasp right now.
When she felt Brittany’s fingers trailing softly over her arm, stroking lightly, Santana nearly jumped out of her skin. She was being ridiculous, she knew, but this was weird and worrying, and frightening. She wanted Brittany but there was still that nagging voice in her head telling her it was wrong to want such things, and that she’d be somehow taking advantage of Brittany’s friendship.
Santana needed to get a handle on this situation. There had to be a way she could regain her control.
“Ok, we need some rules,” Santana blurted, turning more towards Brittany as Brittany’s fingers continued to whisper over her skin. “If we’re gonna . . . go there,” she said, for want of a better way to describe things, “then you need to know it’s not serious. We’re not gay, and we’re not gonna be gay together. It’ll just be . . .”
“Santana,” Brittany interrupted, “I don’t care what we are, I just know I like you, and that I think about you a lot. I think about you not wearing clothes a lot. Like . . . all the time.”
She gazed into Santana’s eyes and if it were possible Santana felt that little bit better. They’d both been thinking the same things apparently. The tension in Santana’s shoulders released slightly and she allowed her gaze to fall to Brittany’s lips; she wanted to kiss them, to taste them. Santana could feel her stomach starting to flutter as she drifted closer to Brittany, the barriers she’d placed around herself finally beginning to crack as she gave in to what she needed.
This could be ok. They could be ok if they just allowed it to happen and didn’t try to stick a label to it, or to themselves. If she didn’t dwell on the fact she’d fallen for Brittany and taking this step was a huge risk.
Of course, Santana was fooling herself just a little as the labels were already there; she’d started thinking of herself as at least bi already, but Brittany didn’t need to know that. And she didn’t need to know of how much Santana cared for her, as more than a friend. At least this way she’d keep some measure of control.
Control felt good.
Taking a steadying breath, Santana finally found the well of confidence inside herself that she’d lost track of. Brittany wanted her; it was clear in her eyes, lidded and heavy, and the way her lips were parted, ready for Santana to take them. Seeing it so easily, so clearly in front of her made her feel more certain of how she felt herself. Made her feel almost powerful.
Giving Brittany a quick grin, Santana moved suddenly, throwing herself up over Brittany so she was straddling her on the bed, her hands resting either side of Brittany’s head.
“Don’t tell anybody about this,” Santana warned, lowering herself closer to Brittany, almost moaning as she felt Brittany’s hips twitch up to meet her own. “And . . . it’s just about sex, nothing else,” she lied, bringing her lips close to Brittany’s.
“Ok,” Brittany said softly, looking up at Santana with complete trust.
The last of Santana’s resolve slipped away when Brittany’s hand reached up to touch her face, fingers gentle. Almost too gentle.
This was about more than sex and she could see it in Brittany’s eyes, but she didn’t say anything as she brought their lips together in a clash of frantic need and pent up desire that had them both breathing hard in an instant.
Control definitely felt good.
TBC...