Let the Radio Play
Let the Radio Play (1/1)
Title: Let the Radio Play
Pairing: Santana Lopez/Brittany Pierce
Rating: PG
Disclaimer: Nothing owned, no profit gained.
Spoilers: None
Summary: A little nice fluff before we see the episode tomorrow. I was in the mood for it after all the buzz about this episode and Rory coming.
Let the Radio Play
As soon as Santana turns the key, Brittany quips beside her.
"Ooooooooh! Turn it up."Without waiting for Santana to take her cue, Brittany quickly reaches across and turns the black stereo dial up and begins to wag her shoulders to the beat of the music.
Outside the day is nice, warm with the beginnings of Autumn. Both girls roll down the windows to let the fall air and it's almond smells in. As they pull away from the school parking lot, the car fills with the pulse of pop music and wind around them, Santana hums alongside Britt and rolls her shoulders in harmony. Two friends on an open road.
Flashing a smile, Brittany begins to sing. What was once hilariously off tune, has now, after years of practice with the Glee club, become sweet and controlled. She sounds great.
Santana's lips curl up into a smile as she catches Brittany's body move beside her: shoulders rolling, Brittany's thin back arches, the red hem of her cheerleading skirt reveals soft legs and her long neck becomes exposed. Santana smells the sweet citrus of Brittany's skin. Her mouth dries.
She stops herself.
This summer, they've agreed to be friends.
Just friends.
Forcing the words to resonate into her stubborn head, Santana sighs. Leaning back into the driver's seat of her little, black car, she forces the hunger down and away.
Unaware, Brittany continues... Her head bobs and her voice, now unapologetically louder, screams lyrics over the radio.
As much as she tries to put up a fight, Santana laughs... Full and smiley. Its a reoccurring look lately. Whatever happens or doesn't between them, she knows that Brittany will always be in her life. It's a comfort... In a word where families are likely to shun you for being this different, Brittany has already shown herself to be a constant... The touchstone... That much will not change.
A flush of warmth blooms in her chest as she watches her friend. Her world. Joining for the chorus, Santana's voice comes in loudly. Impromptu, the pair follow each others' actions and pitch... they create a dance number of arm movements and head bobs. They giggle. Brittany's wide grin is infectious. Her pale eyes glimmer.
The car fills with happiness... drunk from their connection.
Laughing more than singing, they pull up next to Brittany's home.
As soon as the music turns down and the car begins to idle, Santana's smile fades away. She always hates this part.
Brittany's wrist rests happily beside her on the middle console. Her long fingers dance along the driver's seat edge. Her hand lingers teasingly close. It is hard not to reach across to hold it, touch it, but Santana has grown strong. "See you tomorrow," she smiles begrudgingly, faking sincerity.
Trees, tall and green, sway overhead in the breeze. Leaves, beginning to change colors flutter from their branches to the sidewalks. Brittany sits back a moment. Her fingers tickle the side of Santana's seat again. It's hard not to notice.
"Come in."
The simple words strike Santana; She bites her lip.
The white house before them holds hundreds of memories. Santana scans it quickly. The flower pots hanging from the front patio seem inviting enough, but that was the problem; so did Brittany's bed. It was all too inviting. Every memory from that room, every smell, came with a flood of temptation.
"I don't know if that is a good idea," she confesses. Calming herself, she turns her attention to the radio still lightly playing in the background. She doesn't know why, but she switches the settings from super base to stereo. She flicks to the next song... she hesitates.
Although seemingly distracted, Santana is aware of the movement around her. She is aware of Brittany's fingers squeezing her seat a little before moving her hand away. Of the passenger door opening and the swing of Brittany's long legs out of the car. Of the sound of her cheer shoes as her feet grip the pavement. The car sways lightly as Brittany stands and closes the door.
The crash of the door closing between them feels like a slap against Santana's face. Immediately, she looks to the empty seat, the empty smell, with regret.
Turning on her heal, Brittany crosses the front of the car to the drivers side. Reaching in through the window, she grabs at the ignition, and turns the key. The car's motor stops.
"Come in."
The blue in Brittany's eyes dances wildly as they demand obedience. She removes the keys from the car, before Santana registers the change, and holds them behind her back.
"Come in" she says again, taunting.
Competition and sass kick in.
Santana, with a burst of relief and energized excitement, propels herself from the car and runs after the blonde.
Pony tails bounce together as the two tumble into the long, green grass outside Brittany's house. Under normal circumstances, Santana would have an edge. She would have been able to expel her lima height's knowledge and wrestle Brittney underneath her, but she knew better. This "friendship" was under Brittany's terms... and Brittany would have to break the rules.
The grass tickles under Santana's neck and shoulders as she feels the weight of Brittany on her. Brittany breathes deeply into her neck. Here. In the silence beside this public street. Here. She waits. Here.
Brittany smiles, flashing an innocent glance at the Latina below her. She licks her bottom lip and bites its edge.
Although she is on her back looking up, Santana feels the power shift between them. Here, she feels the chill race across Brittany's arm. Here, she feels Brittany's fingers playfully tease at the hem of her uniform and then trail up her neck. Here, she knows.
Here, her confidence grows...
With all the regality and poise of an empress, Santana stands, dusting the blades of grass and dry leaf shards from her skirt. She grins like the devil and turns from Brittany's tease. Over her shoulder, she watches Brittany's expression change, from coy to need. She walks to her car with feline coolness.
Because Santana knows... Brittany won't be able to hold out much longer.