Fic: In the morning (you know it's gonna be alright) (Unholy Trinity: NC-17)
Title: In the morning (you know it's gonna be alright)
Pairings: Unholy Trinity (and all combinations thereof: Brittana, Quinntana, and Quitt).
Rating: NC-17
Word Count: ~6000
Summary: They go silent when Santana sits down on Brittany’s other side, and then she reaches for the cereal box and laughs at the television, and Brittany leans into her side while Quinn flicks frosted flakes at her head, and they spend the rest of the day there, until Judy comes home.
Author’s Note: Set between the first and second seasons. Might be slightly AU/not quite canon. Laura soundtracked this fic <3
It’s been two weeks since school let out and when Quinn calls the only thing she says is, “We have to go to Karofsky’s party on Friday night.”
“First off: hello,” Santana says sarcastically, rolling her eyes at Brittany lying in the grass next to her. “Secondly, you don’t talk to us for weeks and then call us all demanding? I don’t think so.”
There’s silence on the end of the line then, “Us?”
“Britt’s here,” Brittany raises herself up onto one elbow at the sound of her name and looks at Santana questioningly.
Santana takes the phone away from her ear for a minute and mouths, “It’s Quinn,” and then Brittany is tugging the cell from her hand and rolling away from Santana, coming to her feet in one graceful motion. Santana watches as Brittany smiles into the phone, and plays with her hair as she talks, body half turned away from her, and then she hangs up. She settles back down cross legged in the grass next to Santana and drops the phone by Santana’s head.
“We’re going to Karofsky’s party Friday night,” she tugs at the longer blades of grass next to her feet as she talks but stops short of breaking them, curling them around her fingers over and over.
“Fine,” Santana huffs, “But you better start making it up to me.”
She reaches up to adjust her sunglasses and then smirks as Brittany shifts until she’s leaning over her, one hand on the bare skin between Santana’s shorts and bikini, the other on the grass by Santana’s shoulder, holding her weight. She hovers near Santana’s ear and whispers, “I’m gonna start now, ok?”
Santana’s breath hitches in her throat but she manages to whisper, “Yes,” a second before Brittany’s lips meet hers.
+
The advantage of Karofsky’s parties is that he lives so close to Brittany that they don’t have to worry about driving, but the down side is the uncomfortable silence for the duration of the two blocks it takes to get there. Brittany tries to talk to them both but Quinn’s eyes lock on Brittany’s arm looped through Santana’s and she answers in short, cursory phrases and looks away.
Just before they get to Karofsky’s, Brittany takes Quinn’s arm and Quinn smiles shyly for the first time in a long time.
+
Santana’s had two beers by the time Puck finds her by the keg.
“Hey Santana,” he smirks at her and Santana fights the urge to roll her eyes.
“Oh, as if, Puckerman.” She refills the cup in her hand and takes a step away, looking for Brittany. She finds Quinn in the doorway behind Puck instead, staring at them wide-eyed.
“Come on, don’t be like that,” Puck hasn’t seen Quinn, and he takes a step closer, “We used to have fun, didn’t we?”
“That was before you knocked up one of my best friends,” she hisses and shoves him, pointing at Quinn.
“Oh shit,” Puck’s eyes flick between the two of them, and Santana grips her cup harder and stalks off to find Brittany.
+
Santana’s near the bottom of her third cup when Quinn suddenly steps into her field of vision. “What do you want?” She snaps, a little harsher than she intended.
“Did you mean what you said back there?” Quinn asks. Santana can smell the alcohol on Quinn’s breath but she’s deadly serious. “That I was one of your best friends?”
Santana shifts uncomfortably and takes another mouthful of lukewarm beer. Quinn’s eyes are big and she hasn’t looked away yet, and Santana is suddenly sure there’s a lot more riding on her answer than she originally thought.
“I said it, didn’t I?” Santana finally answers, sounding angrier than she anticipated. She sighs and looks away, unsure what it is about Quinn that always makes her sound angry.
Quinn nods and looks down at the ground. The silence stretches and then Quinn reaches out and grabs Santana’s hand tightly, fingers digging into the soft skin where her hand joins her wrist. Santana’s so shocked she can’t think of a thing to say; much as she and Brittany had been joined at the pinky since kindergarten, Quinn has never been one for physical affection.
“Thanks,” is all Quinn says, still holding her hand, and trying gamely to find her gaze and hold it.
After a moment, Santana remembers to breathe and then she raises her eyebrows and drawls, “Shit, Q, I didn’t know you felt that way.”
Quinn’s eyes go comically wide and then she’s laughing and letting go to swat at Santana until she laughs too. Brittany finds them, then, laughing and holding each other up.
+
They walk back to Brittany’s house in silence, Brittany holding each of their hands, swinging them in time with their steps. They’re so tired that they all climb into Brittany’s bed, only pausing to kick off their shoes and peel back the covers. In the night, Santana half wakes with Brittany pressed into her back, one arm around her stomach, and Quinn watching them with a smile on her face. Santana smiles back and sleepily reaches out to tangle her fingers with Quinn’s before she sinks back into unconsciousness.
+
When Santana wakes in the morning Quinn is gone, but Brittany tugs at her hips until there’s no space between them and Santana forgets to worry.
+
Santana lies next to Quinn by the side of the pool and tries to ignore the way her eyes want to follow Brittany as she swims backwards and forwards languidly. She adjusts her sunglasses and screws her eyes shut, ignoring the way the sun turns the inside of her eyelids red and how she can still almost see Brittany’s shadow against them. She hears a splash, and then Brittany falls on her with a happy giggle, shaking her wet head over her and wrapping her arms around Santana and pulling her closer. When Santana opens her eyes, everything looks too bright despite her sunglasses, and the water covering the lenses refracts the light, sending it dancing around Brittany’s hair like a halo.
Somehow Brittany is half straddling her, kneeling over her and tugging at her sides, and it takes Quinn’s delicately deliberate cough to remind Santana that they’re not alone.
“What,” Quinn says evenly, one eyebrow raised, “Are you doing?”
Santana glances at Brittany and starts to stammer something, but then Brittany leaps off her with a laugh and shakes her wet head over Quinn and says, “That!” before she jumps back into the pool and swims away, the grin still evident on her face.
Quinn wipes the water off her face, and stares at Santana until Santana looks away, something like shame twisting her stomach.
+
It feels like there’s always a football player with an empty house and someone to buy him beer, and when they get to the party the music is so loud Santana can’t hear herself think. She only accepts the beer Puck presses into her hand because she watched him pour it, and she bats him away as he tries to pull her into his arms. She sidesteps him and loops her arm through Brittany’s and walks them over to where Quinn is standing with Mike Chang and his friends. Quinn raises an eyebrow at her, and Santana snaps “Don’t,” out of the side of her mouth and takes a mouthful of beer, wrinkling her nose at the taste.
A new song starts to play and Brittany sways on her feet, her own beer half empty. She leans into Santana’s ear and her breath tickles the soft place behind her ear where no one else ever goes.
“San,” she says in a sing song voice, “Dance with me.” Her hand tangles around Santana’s and starts to tug, and then they’re lost in the bass line, and Santana feels the thud of the kick drum like a weight over her heart. She doesn’t know how long they dance for, but Brittany’s hands are on her hips and her hands are in Brittany’s hair and later Brittany pushes her into the bathroom and finds that spot again, just behind her ear, and the pounding of Santana’s heart has nothing to do with the music seeping through the cracks in the door.
+
The third time someone bangs on the door and tells them to hurry up, Santana almost reaches for the door knob to tell them to go fuck themselves, but then Brittany presses her hard against the door as her fingers dip under the thin material of her dress and toy with the waistband of her underwear, and she suddenly finds it very hard to care.
+
After, she finds Quinn sitting outside on the curb waiting for them and all she says is “Puck was looking for you,” before she climbs into the driver’s seat of her car and slams the door.
+
Quinn doesn’t call for three days, and when she does its Brittany’s cell that rings as Santana’s sits next to it on the desk, suspiciously silent. Brittany grabs the phone before Santana can get to it and steps into her bathroom quickly and shuts the door as Santana tries to follow. Santana can hear Brittany’s low murmur coming from the other side of the door, and she slides her hand down the doorframe slowly, wishing she was on the other side.
By the time Brittany comes out, Santana is lying on the bed flipping through a magazine, and she purposefully ignores Brittany as she comes to stand in front of her.
“She just wanted to talk to someone,” Brittany says, putting the phone down on the bedside table. “She’s ok, though, don’t worry.”
“I didn’t ask,” Santana doesn’t look up from her magazine. She licks her finger delicately and turns the page.
Brittany gives her that look that says, Oh Santana, and then she pulls the magazine from Santana’s hands and pushes her onto her back, climbing half onto the bed and half on top of her, hands pressed into the mattress either side of Santana’s head.
Santana’s the first to look away, and then Brittany sinks down to press her face into Santana’s neck and whisper, “You’re an idiot sometimes,” before she places one chaste kiss to her pulse point and brushes her fingers against Santana’s cheekbone, softly.
+
It’s Santana’s turn to drive so she’s completely sober when she finds Puck and Quinn sitting in the back yard together. Puck’s arm is around Quinn’s shoulders, and she watches as he passes her another beer and urges her to drink it. Quinn is giggling, but Santana can tell how drunk she is, and god knows they don’t need a repeat of last year.
“Leave her alone, Puck.” She stares him down with her hands on her hips, in the way she used to when they were fooling around and she didn’t want him to carry on. He recognises the look.
“Fuck off, we’re having a moment here.” He pulls Quinn closer to him and Santana’s eyes narrow as she pushes at his chest weakly.
“Quinn,” Santana says loudly, “Are you ok?”
“She’s fine,” Puck replies quickly, “Right, babe?”
Quinn shrugs and deflates in his arms, and Santana is moving before she realises it. “A shrug is not a yes, Puckerman,” Santana spits, and she grabs Quinn’s hand and pulls her to her feet. Quinn sways a little and takes one unsteady step closer to Santana. Santana wraps an arm around her waist and glares at Puck until he leaves, taking his beer with him.
“You didn’t have to do that,” Quinn says, leaning into her.
“God knows we don’t need you knocked up again. Those hormones were a bitch.” Santana tries to smile but it’s weak and she knows it.
“I can’t believe I almost did that twice,” Quinn sinks to the ground and pulls her knees up to her chin. She wraps her arms around her legs and she looks so miserable that Santana can’t help but sit down next to her. Santana’s hand twitches, like maybe she wants to wrap it around Quinn’s shoulders, but in the end she just looks at her, half a smile on her face.
“Hey, I did it more than that.” The silence stretches and then Quinn shuffles closer and rests her head on Santana’s shoulder.
“Thank you.”
Santana swallows, and glances around to make sure they’re alone. They are so she wraps an arm around her and whispers, “Any time.”
+
In the car on the way home Brittany keeps leaning across the arm rest to whisper things into Santana’s ear and Quinn isn’t sure if she imagines it or not but they reach her house in record time, and she watches until the car disappears before going inside.
+
Quinn invites them to stay over when her mom has to go out of town for a night, and Brittany ignores all Santana’s objections and insists they have to go, to “be there for Quinn,” whatever that means.
“She’s lonely,” Brittany explains patiently, like it should be obvious.
Santana raises her head from its place in the crook of Brittany’s arm, and Brittany’s fingers still in her hair as Santana looks at her, “Lonely?”
Brittany nods, “Ms Corcoran sends her pictures of Beth, you know. Did you think Quinn would just forget about her?”
That’s exactly what Santana had though, but she doesn’t say anything, just lays her head down and plays with the hem of Brittany’s shorts, thinking.
+
When Quinn answers the door she has a bottle of gin in her hand and Santana pushes her inside quickly so the neighbours don’t see.
“God, Q, starting early?” Santana wrinkles her nose at the smell and looks at Brittany helplessly.
“I only had a mouthful,” Quinn protests, but she lets Brittany take the bottle from her hand and watches her disappear to put it in the kitchen.
Santana shifts from foot to foot uncomfortably and then blurts out, “Are you ok?”
Quinn just looks at her, “I’m not turning into my mother if that’s what you’re asking.”
“How much did you drink?” Santana shifts again, awkwardly. She wishes it was Brittany instead of her having this conversation; Brittany was always better at this than her, and Brittany’s voice isn’t rough and demanding the way hers is whenever she talks to Quinn.
Quinn looks away, “I didn’t, alright? That stuff’s really gross.”
Santana’s eyebrows shoot up and she snorts out a laugh, before they’re spared further conversation by Brittany’s return. “We brought DVDs,” Brittany reaches into her bag and emerges with half a dozen high school movies, and Santana follows her lead and pulls a packet of popcorn from her own bag.
Quinn smiles at them both, suddenly a little bashful as half-remembered shared childhood sleepovers flood back to her, “Thanks guys.”
+
Bring It On 3 is maybe the worse movie Santana has ever seen, but she stops caring sometime after Brittany sits on the floor by her feet and leans back against her legs, running her fingers up and down her calf. She shifts a little so Brittany is sitting in the gap between her legs, and Quinn watches her out of the corner of her eye as much as she watches the movie. Brittany rests her head against Santana’s knee, and loops her arm around Santana’s leg, pulling it closer. After a moment, Santana’s hand moves of its own accord and tangles in the hairs at the nape of Brittany’s neck, and Santana feels Brittany’s smile through the fabric of her leggings.
Brittany’s asleep by the end of the movie, and Santana looks to Quinn to see if she wants to put another disc in, and instead finds calculating eyes meeting her own.
“What?” Santana asks and then Quinn is closing the distance between them and kissing her, and Santana has no idea what’s going on. Quinn brushes her tongue against her lips, and Santana is too surprised to do anything but kiss back as Quinn reaches over to trail her fingers over Santana’s jaw hesitantly. She must have inadvertently kicked Brittany because by the time Quinn pulls back, Brittany is staring up at them wide-eyed, and Santana is pretty sure she’s wearing an identical expression.
She breathes hard and opens her mouth to ask one of the dozen questions in her head but Quinn shakes her head and says “Don’t talk,” quickly. Quinn offers Brittany her hand, and Brittany takes it slowly, eyes trying to find Quinn’s. Brittany stares at Quinn and Santana can’t help but think she’s missing something that’s passing between them.
After a moment, Brittany grins and scrambles up onto Santana’s lap, one leg either side of her hips, and kisses her, hard, and Santana’s brain goes quiet and stops offering her reasons why this is wrong.
And then Brittany pulls back to smile at her and leans over to find Quinn’s mouth, one hand still in Santana’s hair, and Santana’s brain shuts down completely.
+
Quinn’s eyes widen when Brittany pulls Santana’s shirt over her head and presses one hand inside her bra, and again when Santana gasps and arches into the touch, tangling her hand in Brittany’s hair and pulling her closer. Quinn watches them kiss and feels, for just a second, like she should leave, but then Brittany is pulling her to them and scraping teeth over her neck as Santana kisses her and she knows she has to stay.
+
“We should go upstairs,” Brittany whispers, later. She moves back to look at them both and after they pull apart and nod, she slides her hands under Quinn’s thighs and lifts her from the couch.
Quinn whimpers into Brittany’s neck as her legs wrap around Brittany’s waist and her eyes find Santana’s as she grabs their discarded shirts and follows them to the stairs.
Santana smirks, “Hot, right?” She grins as Quinn nods and blushes slightly, sliding an arm around Brittany’s shoulders.
“When San found out I could do this she made me carry her around her room for like half an hour, putting her down on everything.” Brittany stops, “Wait, you’re not going to make me do that, right?”
“Um,” Quinn squeaks, her voice much higher than usual, “No?”
Santana barks out a laugh behind them and pushes them along faster.
+
When Santana undoes the clasp of her bra, Quinn tries to keep one arm clasped tightly across her chest until Brittany kisses around it and tugs it away. Quinn gasps when Brittany’s tongue flicks over her nipple, and then she reaches for Santana and pushes her tongue into her mouth as Brittany sucks harder and cups her breast in her hand.
Brittany’s mouth disappears and the weight on the bed shifts, and then Santana shivers in her arms and chokes out a gasp into her mouth, and when Quinn looks past her Brittany is pressed against Santana’s back with one arm around her shoulders and the other between her legs, and Quinn can’t look away.
“Fuck,” Santana gasps into Quinn’s mouth, and she reaches a hand behind her desperately for Brittany as the other digs into Quinn’s back.
+
Quinn watches Santana’s face when she comes, watches the ways her eyes squeeze shut and she collapses backwards into Brittany’s arms, watches the way Brittany wraps her arms around Santana and presses kisses into her shoulders over and over again.
When Santana arches her neck and kisses the underside of Brittany’s chin, just once, clumsily and softly, Quinn gets that feeling again in the pit of her stomach, like she’s intruding on something she has no right to see. She blinks and looks away, suddenly self conscious.
Santana exhales noisily and then her eyes settle on Quinn, and the smile on her face turns into a smirk. “Come here.”
Santana takes her hand and turns, pulling Quinn with her until they’re both facing Brittany, and then she pushes Brittany down onto the bed with one hand, and pushes Quinn’s fingers into the wetness between Brittany’s legs with the other, and the only thing Quinn can think to say is, “Oh.”
+
Santana keeps her hand over Quinn’s, and it isn’t long before Brittany is squirming beneath them, the muscles in her legs straining with the effort of not moving. She bucks her hips up into their fingers and her hands fist in the sheets tightly as she whimpers into the pillow next to her head.
Quinn thinks Santana must have some kind of sixth sense, because a second before Brittany’s eyes fly open and her hips start to move more desperately, Santana moves her hand away from Quinn’s, pushing two fingers inside of Brittany in time with the movement of her hips.
Brittany comes with a cry that sounds a lot like Santana’s name and then Santana leans down to kiss her hard, pulling Quinn with her.
+
“You guys don’t have to...”
“Don’t do that,” Santana whispers, moving closer.
“We want to,” Brittany adds from somewhere behind her, and then Quinn closes her eyes.
+
Quinn comes with Brittany’s fingers inside her and Santana’s thumb circling her clit, one arm around Brittany’s neck, the other holding Santana’s free hand tightly, like she might never let go.
+
In the morning Santana wakes up alone, and when she pulls her clothes on and goes downstairs to look for the others she finds them sitting on the couch, Brittany’s legs in Quinn’s lap, passing a box of cereal between them and laughing at Spongebob Squarepants re-runs. They go silent when Santana sits down on Brittany’s other side, and then she reaches for the box and laughs at the television, and Brittany leans into her side while Quinn flicks frosted flakes at her head, and they spend the rest of the day there, until Judy comes home.
+
It’s Quinn’s turn to drive, and they spend most of the party dancing together and ignoring the guys that try to get between them. Santana doesn’t feel like drinking, so she doesn’t, and since she and Quinn aren’t, Brittany doesn’t either. They have a good time and when the party’s starting to break up, Brittany wraps an arm around Santana’s neck and says she wants to go home in a way that makes her grin in response and pull her towards the car.
Quinn’s half into the car when Brittany climbs into the back seat and pulls Santana in with her.
“Uh, Britt...” Santana murmurs, catching Quinn’s eyes regarding them silently in the rear-view mirror.
“S’ok,” Brittany murmurs, leaning into her neck, “It’s just Quinn.”
Quinn coughs from the front seat, loudly, and Brittany pulls away from Santana and huffs a little, clipping her seat belt into place and contenting herself with reaching over a second later to take Santana’s hand.
“Where are we going?” Quinn asks, something strange in her voice, and Santana watches as the reflection of her eyes settles on their joined hands.
“My house,” Brittany says, eyes seeking Santana’s for confirmation. Santana nods mutely, sure, suddenly, that that wasn’t what Quinn was asking.
Quinn nods and puts the car into drive, and they cover the streets in silence except for Brittany’s occasional giggle. When they get to Brittany’s house, Brittany opens her door and pulls Santana after her, shouting, “Thanks Quinn!” before Quinn has turned the engine off.
Santana watches as Quinn turns red and her face drops momentarily before it suddenly turns expressionless as she shifts the car into reverse. “Bye guys,” her voice sounds odd to Santana’s ears, and she watches the car back out of the driveway slowly, as though Quinn is hoping they’ll call her back. Then Brittany tugs on her hand, and whispers about going upstairs, and Santana grins and lets herself be led inside.
+
After, Brittany curls into Santana’s chest and falls asleep and Santana wonders if she should find her cell and call Quinn, but she doesn’t want to move and wake Brittany, so she tightens her grip around Brittany’s shoulders and drifts off to sleep.
+
Quinn calls when Brittany is at some morning long open day at her dance school, and Santana hesitates for a second before she accepts Quinn’s invitation to come over. When Santana gets there, Quinn is wearing nothing but a bikini, with a towel wrapped round her waist, and Santana swallows nervously, unable to keep her eyes on Quinn’s face.
Quinn smirks a little, “I was out by the pool sunbathing.”
“Oh,” Santana says, hating the way her mind offers silent comparisons to Brittany, and then, as though upset it’s being ignored, images of Quinn lying naked beneath her while Brittany kisses her heatedly. “Shall we go outside then?” Santana moves towards the back door but Quinn blocks her path, stepping closer.
“I thought we might go upstairs.” Her voice is low and husky the same way it was during their night with Brittany, and Santana blinks rapidly as Quinn comes closer, leaning up slightly to kiss her, one hand sliding round to the nape of her neck to pull her closer.
Santana can’t help the way she leans in a little, feeling the heat of Quinn pressed into her chest as she kisses her back, but when Quinn starts to walk her backwards towards the stairs, she pushes her away and steps back, breathing hard. “Quinn...” she trails off and there’s a warning in her voice.
Quinn folds her arms across her chest and meets Santana’s gaze confrontationally, “What?” her voice is a whisper but Santana can hear the anger in it.
“I-I should go,” Santana stammers, hating how she can’t find the words. “Britt won’t - I mean, we... God Quinn what the hell?”
Quinn unfastens the towel from her waist and pulls it up to cover her chest, the colour slowly draining out of her face. “Get out,” she says expressionlessly, and then louder, again, “Get out!”
Santana turns and flees. When she gets home she has a text message from Quinn: “I just want what you two have.” Santana deletes it and tries to ignore the guilty feeling nagging at her from the back of her mind.
+
Brittany texts Santana to meet her at the Lima Bean and when Santana gets there Quinn is sitting next to Brittany scowling into the bottom of her soy latte.
“Now talk,” Brittany orders when Santana pulls up a chair, and Santana wonders how much Quinn has told her.
Quinn huffs and tears at the edges of her napkin, refusing to look up. After a moment, Santana reaches over to take it away from her. Quinn’s eyes follow it, “What do you want me to say?” she asks, finally.
“What about ‘hi’?” Brittany prompts innocently, and Santana suppresses a smile.
“Hi,” Santana says softly, and after a second Quinn looks up.
“Hi,” she says, her expression guarded.
+
On Friday night they go to a party at Mike Chang’s and Santana is surprised to find Tina there, holding on to his arm. Brittany just shrugs and says they were councillors together at Asian camp, and Santana glances at her sideways, trying to tell if she’s joking. Quinn has already disappeared, probably to find beer, and Santana wishes she could follow but Brittany is already pulling her towards Mile and Tina, “Hey guys!”
“Hey Britt,” Mike grins, and loops his arm around Tina’s waist possessively. “Santana,” he adds.
Santana offers them her best fake smile and then looks around for Quinn again, hoping she’d have the presence of mind to bring her a beer too. She tunes out most of the conversation because she might love glee but she can’t quite find it in her to muster enthusiasm for Tina’s love life, and then Quinn appears in the doorway on the other side of the room holding two cups and Santana shoots her a grin and excuses herself.
“Thank God, I thought you were never coming back. And with beer too.” Santana raises her cup in a salute before she downs half of it in one go.
“So Mike and Tina?” Quinn nods towards the others, where Brittany is now enthusiastically demonstrating some ridiculously complicated dance step, and Santana feels her heart tighten in her chest painfully.
She drinks the rest of her beer before she answers. “I guess so.”
“You know, I used to think there was something going on between Mike and Brittany,” Quinn adds, and now she’s looking at Santana carefully.
Santana snorts, “They just have this weird dancing best friend thing going on. She doesn’t like him like that.”
“Oh,” Quinn sips her drink slowly. Her eyes take in Santana’s expression as she watches Brittany, “Does she like someone else?”
Brittany chooses that moment to look over at them, and she grins and waves when her eyes meet Santana’s. Santana’s voice is strangely tight as she answers, “I don’t think so.”
“Oh,” Quinn takes another sip of her beer and finally looks away, “OK.”
+
Santana shotguns another beer, and another three after that, and pretty soon the room is spinning around her in a way that has nothing to do with the way she’s dancing. She knows Brittany is there somewhere and the back of her mind keeps telling her to slow down and find her, but she keeps dancing and pretty soon it shuts up.
+
“San! Santana!” Brittany’s concerned face is swimming in front of her eyes and then the world tips and she can’t see anything but blond hair as arms wrap around her and make her feel safe.
“Quinn, open the door,” their voices are coming from far away, and then the arms disappear and Santana’s face is pressed against cool glass and from somewhere near her feet she hears a car door slam shut. She hears two more doors and then an engine starts and they’re moving.
“What did you say to her?”
“I didn’t -“
“Quinn, what did you say to her?”
Santana keeps her eyes squeezed shut, and her feet braced against the door as they turn the corners. She tries to count the number of times they turn and work out where they are, but the whole world is spinning and it disorientates her and makes her lose track.
Silence. Then: “What’s going on between you two?”
“Nothing.”
“Brittany -“
“She’s my best friend.”
The car comes to a stop and Santana tries to open her eyes because she should be looking at Brittany when she says this, “Mi mejor amiga.” She smiles, “My Britt-Britt.”
Brittany’s face appears in the gap between seats and she reaches to cup her cheek comfortingly, “Shush now, San. I’m gonna take you home.”
Santana smiles again and hums happily as she shuts her eyes, “Mmk Britt.”
“You need to get out now Quinn.”
“But -“
“Bye, Quinn.”
Santana hears a car door open and close.
+
When the car stops again Santana feels a little better and when Brittany opens the door Santana manages to sit up and move to the edge of the seat, facing Brittany.
“Hi,” Santana says, because it’s literally the only thing she can think of to say. Then the first sob forces its way out of her throat and she reaches for Brittany and presses her face into her stomach as Brittany’s hands tangle in her hair tightly.
“Te amo,” Santana chokes out over and over, something like an apology in her voice, and Brittany presses kisses into her hair and holds her tight for a long time before she stops.
+
Santana wakes up in Brittany’s arms with Brittany watching her with a smile on her face. Her head is pounding and the light coming through Brittany’s window hurts her eyes, so she snuggles further into Brittany’s embrace and lets herself feel safe, just for a moment.
+
Brittany phone rings at lunch time and Brittany eases Santana out of her arms to get it. She stares at the caller ID and then sends the call to voicemail. Santana blinks at her sleepily as Brittany settles against her again.
“It was Quinn,” Brittany explains simply as she closes her eyes.
+
“I need to shower,” Santana murmurs sleepily, later.
“OK,” Brittany whispers into her forehead, and slowly untangles their limbs.
+
Santana lets the shower burn too hot and when she pulls on the spare pyjamas she keeps at Brittany’s house her skin is tender and flushed. She goes back into Brittany’s room and climbs back into the bed, burying her head in Brittany’s shoulder.
“School starts soon,” Brittany says quietly as she shifts onto her back and pulls Santana closer.
Santana murmurs assent into her shoulder.
“It won’t be the same there, will it?”
Santana doesn’t have to ask Brittany what she means. She stays silent and tightens her grip on Brittany’s arm.
“I love you,” Brittany mumbles eventually, and Santana squeezes her eyes shut and swallows hard, wishing she knew what to say.
+
Later, Brittany rolls on top of her and stares into her eyes for a long while before she cups her face in her hands gently and kisses her. She trails a hand over the skin of Santana’s stomach lightly, and Santana shivers when Brittany’s fingers find the heat between her legs and start to move. It’s impossibly slow and gentle, and as Brittany presses their lips together again Santana feels the ache she’s had in her stomach for as long as she can remember subside, just for a little while.
+
When they wake up in the morning, Brittany has five missed calls from Quinn and Santana watches her carefully delete each one from her call log.
“I thought you wanted us all to be friends again,” Santana says.
Brittany looks up at her and smiles sadly, then cants her head to one side shrugging slightly. “Sometimes I’m not sure if we were really friends to begin with.”
+
Santana is halfway home when Quinn calls her. She stops walking and stares at her phone like she’s never seen it before, and then the call dies and she shoves the phone back into her pocket and starts to run.
When she gets home she leans her head against her front door, breathing hard.
+
The weekend before school starts, Santana plants her feet and crosses her arms over her chest, refusing to go to Karofsky’s party. Brittany shrugs and relents, and tries to ignore the way Santana keeps fiddling with her phone, flipping it open and shut and looking for messages that aren’t there. They spend the night watching cartoons with Brittany’s sister sandwiched between them, and Santana shifts on the couch restlessly until Brittany catches her eye over her sister’s head with a worried expression on her face, and then she makes more of an effort to sit still.
When Brittany takes her sister to bed, Santana’s fingers hover over Quinn’s number, but she snaps the phone shut when Brittany sits down in her lap and throws her arms around her neck.
“We’ll see her Monday,” Brittany whispers into her ear, and Santana just nods and pulls her closer.
+
On Sunday morning when she knows Quinn will be at church, Santana dials Quinn’s number and goes straight through to her answer phone like she expected. She swallows and hesitates, feeling the seconds tick away, and then she says, “See you tomorrow,” and hangs up.
+
The first day of school, Santana leans against her locker and surveys the kids in the hallways before the morning bell. Brittany shoves things into the locker next to hers until she’s holding nothing but her notepad, and then slams the door shut, turning to follow Santana’s gaze.
Quinn opens a locker a little way down the row, and side eyes them as she pretends to busy herself sorting through the contents.
Santana watches as Jacob appears and shoves a microphone in Quinn’s face as she shuts the door, and she sidles closer with Brittany by her side, wanting to hear what they’re saying.
She paints a disinterested look on her face, and tries to ignore the grateful way Quinn glances at her, and when Jacob asks her how her summer was she just shrugs and says, “It was uneventful.”
Pairings: Unholy Trinity (and all combinations thereof: Brittana, Quinntana, and Quitt).
Rating: NC-17
Word Count: ~6000
Summary: They go silent when Santana sits down on Brittany’s other side, and then she reaches for the cereal box and laughs at the television, and Brittany leans into her side while Quinn flicks frosted flakes at her head, and they spend the rest of the day there, until Judy comes home.
Author’s Note: Set between the first and second seasons. Might be slightly AU/not quite canon. Laura soundtracked this fic <3
It’s been two weeks since school let out and when Quinn calls the only thing she says is, “We have to go to Karofsky’s party on Friday night.”
“First off: hello,” Santana says sarcastically, rolling her eyes at Brittany lying in the grass next to her. “Secondly, you don’t talk to us for weeks and then call us all demanding? I don’t think so.”
There’s silence on the end of the line then, “Us?”
“Britt’s here,” Brittany raises herself up onto one elbow at the sound of her name and looks at Santana questioningly.
Santana takes the phone away from her ear for a minute and mouths, “It’s Quinn,” and then Brittany is tugging the cell from her hand and rolling away from Santana, coming to her feet in one graceful motion. Santana watches as Brittany smiles into the phone, and plays with her hair as she talks, body half turned away from her, and then she hangs up. She settles back down cross legged in the grass next to Santana and drops the phone by Santana’s head.
“We’re going to Karofsky’s party Friday night,” she tugs at the longer blades of grass next to her feet as she talks but stops short of breaking them, curling them around her fingers over and over.
“Fine,” Santana huffs, “But you better start making it up to me.”
She reaches up to adjust her sunglasses and then smirks as Brittany shifts until she’s leaning over her, one hand on the bare skin between Santana’s shorts and bikini, the other on the grass by Santana’s shoulder, holding her weight. She hovers near Santana’s ear and whispers, “I’m gonna start now, ok?”
Santana’s breath hitches in her throat but she manages to whisper, “Yes,” a second before Brittany’s lips meet hers.
+
The advantage of Karofsky’s parties is that he lives so close to Brittany that they don’t have to worry about driving, but the down side is the uncomfortable silence for the duration of the two blocks it takes to get there. Brittany tries to talk to them both but Quinn’s eyes lock on Brittany’s arm looped through Santana’s and she answers in short, cursory phrases and looks away.
Just before they get to Karofsky’s, Brittany takes Quinn’s arm and Quinn smiles shyly for the first time in a long time.
+
Santana’s had two beers by the time Puck finds her by the keg.
“Hey Santana,” he smirks at her and Santana fights the urge to roll her eyes.
“Oh, as if, Puckerman.” She refills the cup in her hand and takes a step away, looking for Brittany. She finds Quinn in the doorway behind Puck instead, staring at them wide-eyed.
“Come on, don’t be like that,” Puck hasn’t seen Quinn, and he takes a step closer, “We used to have fun, didn’t we?”
“That was before you knocked up one of my best friends,” she hisses and shoves him, pointing at Quinn.
“Oh shit,” Puck’s eyes flick between the two of them, and Santana grips her cup harder and stalks off to find Brittany.
+
Santana’s near the bottom of her third cup when Quinn suddenly steps into her field of vision. “What do you want?” She snaps, a little harsher than she intended.
“Did you mean what you said back there?” Quinn asks. Santana can smell the alcohol on Quinn’s breath but she’s deadly serious. “That I was one of your best friends?”
Santana shifts uncomfortably and takes another mouthful of lukewarm beer. Quinn’s eyes are big and she hasn’t looked away yet, and Santana is suddenly sure there’s a lot more riding on her answer than she originally thought.
“I said it, didn’t I?” Santana finally answers, sounding angrier than she anticipated. She sighs and looks away, unsure what it is about Quinn that always makes her sound angry.
Quinn nods and looks down at the ground. The silence stretches and then Quinn reaches out and grabs Santana’s hand tightly, fingers digging into the soft skin where her hand joins her wrist. Santana’s so shocked she can’t think of a thing to say; much as she and Brittany had been joined at the pinky since kindergarten, Quinn has never been one for physical affection.
“Thanks,” is all Quinn says, still holding her hand, and trying gamely to find her gaze and hold it.
After a moment, Santana remembers to breathe and then she raises her eyebrows and drawls, “Shit, Q, I didn’t know you felt that way.”
Quinn’s eyes go comically wide and then she’s laughing and letting go to swat at Santana until she laughs too. Brittany finds them, then, laughing and holding each other up.
+
They walk back to Brittany’s house in silence, Brittany holding each of their hands, swinging them in time with their steps. They’re so tired that they all climb into Brittany’s bed, only pausing to kick off their shoes and peel back the covers. In the night, Santana half wakes with Brittany pressed into her back, one arm around her stomach, and Quinn watching them with a smile on her face. Santana smiles back and sleepily reaches out to tangle her fingers with Quinn’s before she sinks back into unconsciousness.
+
When Santana wakes in the morning Quinn is gone, but Brittany tugs at her hips until there’s no space between them and Santana forgets to worry.
+
Santana lies next to Quinn by the side of the pool and tries to ignore the way her eyes want to follow Brittany as she swims backwards and forwards languidly. She adjusts her sunglasses and screws her eyes shut, ignoring the way the sun turns the inside of her eyelids red and how she can still almost see Brittany’s shadow against them. She hears a splash, and then Brittany falls on her with a happy giggle, shaking her wet head over her and wrapping her arms around Santana and pulling her closer. When Santana opens her eyes, everything looks too bright despite her sunglasses, and the water covering the lenses refracts the light, sending it dancing around Brittany’s hair like a halo.
Somehow Brittany is half straddling her, kneeling over her and tugging at her sides, and it takes Quinn’s delicately deliberate cough to remind Santana that they’re not alone.
“What,” Quinn says evenly, one eyebrow raised, “Are you doing?”
Santana glances at Brittany and starts to stammer something, but then Brittany leaps off her with a laugh and shakes her wet head over Quinn and says, “That!” before she jumps back into the pool and swims away, the grin still evident on her face.
Quinn wipes the water off her face, and stares at Santana until Santana looks away, something like shame twisting her stomach.
+
It feels like there’s always a football player with an empty house and someone to buy him beer, and when they get to the party the music is so loud Santana can’t hear herself think. She only accepts the beer Puck presses into her hand because she watched him pour it, and she bats him away as he tries to pull her into his arms. She sidesteps him and loops her arm through Brittany’s and walks them over to where Quinn is standing with Mike Chang and his friends. Quinn raises an eyebrow at her, and Santana snaps “Don’t,” out of the side of her mouth and takes a mouthful of beer, wrinkling her nose at the taste.
A new song starts to play and Brittany sways on her feet, her own beer half empty. She leans into Santana’s ear and her breath tickles the soft place behind her ear where no one else ever goes.
“San,” she says in a sing song voice, “Dance with me.” Her hand tangles around Santana’s and starts to tug, and then they’re lost in the bass line, and Santana feels the thud of the kick drum like a weight over her heart. She doesn’t know how long they dance for, but Brittany’s hands are on her hips and her hands are in Brittany’s hair and later Brittany pushes her into the bathroom and finds that spot again, just behind her ear, and the pounding of Santana’s heart has nothing to do with the music seeping through the cracks in the door.
+
The third time someone bangs on the door and tells them to hurry up, Santana almost reaches for the door knob to tell them to go fuck themselves, but then Brittany presses her hard against the door as her fingers dip under the thin material of her dress and toy with the waistband of her underwear, and she suddenly finds it very hard to care.
+
After, she finds Quinn sitting outside on the curb waiting for them and all she says is “Puck was looking for you,” before she climbs into the driver’s seat of her car and slams the door.
+
Quinn doesn’t call for three days, and when she does its Brittany’s cell that rings as Santana’s sits next to it on the desk, suspiciously silent. Brittany grabs the phone before Santana can get to it and steps into her bathroom quickly and shuts the door as Santana tries to follow. Santana can hear Brittany’s low murmur coming from the other side of the door, and she slides her hand down the doorframe slowly, wishing she was on the other side.
By the time Brittany comes out, Santana is lying on the bed flipping through a magazine, and she purposefully ignores Brittany as she comes to stand in front of her.
“She just wanted to talk to someone,” Brittany says, putting the phone down on the bedside table. “She’s ok, though, don’t worry.”
“I didn’t ask,” Santana doesn’t look up from her magazine. She licks her finger delicately and turns the page.
Brittany gives her that look that says, Oh Santana, and then she pulls the magazine from Santana’s hands and pushes her onto her back, climbing half onto the bed and half on top of her, hands pressed into the mattress either side of Santana’s head.
Santana’s the first to look away, and then Brittany sinks down to press her face into Santana’s neck and whisper, “You’re an idiot sometimes,” before she places one chaste kiss to her pulse point and brushes her fingers against Santana’s cheekbone, softly.
+
It’s Santana’s turn to drive so she’s completely sober when she finds Puck and Quinn sitting in the back yard together. Puck’s arm is around Quinn’s shoulders, and she watches as he passes her another beer and urges her to drink it. Quinn is giggling, but Santana can tell how drunk she is, and god knows they don’t need a repeat of last year.
“Leave her alone, Puck.” She stares him down with her hands on her hips, in the way she used to when they were fooling around and she didn’t want him to carry on. He recognises the look.
“Fuck off, we’re having a moment here.” He pulls Quinn closer to him and Santana’s eyes narrow as she pushes at his chest weakly.
“Quinn,” Santana says loudly, “Are you ok?”
“She’s fine,” Puck replies quickly, “Right, babe?”
Quinn shrugs and deflates in his arms, and Santana is moving before she realises it. “A shrug is not a yes, Puckerman,” Santana spits, and she grabs Quinn’s hand and pulls her to her feet. Quinn sways a little and takes one unsteady step closer to Santana. Santana wraps an arm around her waist and glares at Puck until he leaves, taking his beer with him.
“You didn’t have to do that,” Quinn says, leaning into her.
“God knows we don’t need you knocked up again. Those hormones were a bitch.” Santana tries to smile but it’s weak and she knows it.
“I can’t believe I almost did that twice,” Quinn sinks to the ground and pulls her knees up to her chin. She wraps her arms around her legs and she looks so miserable that Santana can’t help but sit down next to her. Santana’s hand twitches, like maybe she wants to wrap it around Quinn’s shoulders, but in the end she just looks at her, half a smile on her face.
“Hey, I did it more than that.” The silence stretches and then Quinn shuffles closer and rests her head on Santana’s shoulder.
“Thank you.”
Santana swallows, and glances around to make sure they’re alone. They are so she wraps an arm around her and whispers, “Any time.”
+
In the car on the way home Brittany keeps leaning across the arm rest to whisper things into Santana’s ear and Quinn isn’t sure if she imagines it or not but they reach her house in record time, and she watches until the car disappears before going inside.
+
Quinn invites them to stay over when her mom has to go out of town for a night, and Brittany ignores all Santana’s objections and insists they have to go, to “be there for Quinn,” whatever that means.
“She’s lonely,” Brittany explains patiently, like it should be obvious.
Santana raises her head from its place in the crook of Brittany’s arm, and Brittany’s fingers still in her hair as Santana looks at her, “Lonely?”
Brittany nods, “Ms Corcoran sends her pictures of Beth, you know. Did you think Quinn would just forget about her?”
That’s exactly what Santana had though, but she doesn’t say anything, just lays her head down and plays with the hem of Brittany’s shorts, thinking.
+
When Quinn answers the door she has a bottle of gin in her hand and Santana pushes her inside quickly so the neighbours don’t see.
“God, Q, starting early?” Santana wrinkles her nose at the smell and looks at Brittany helplessly.
“I only had a mouthful,” Quinn protests, but she lets Brittany take the bottle from her hand and watches her disappear to put it in the kitchen.
Santana shifts from foot to foot uncomfortably and then blurts out, “Are you ok?”
Quinn just looks at her, “I’m not turning into my mother if that’s what you’re asking.”
“How much did you drink?” Santana shifts again, awkwardly. She wishes it was Brittany instead of her having this conversation; Brittany was always better at this than her, and Brittany’s voice isn’t rough and demanding the way hers is whenever she talks to Quinn.
Quinn looks away, “I didn’t, alright? That stuff’s really gross.”
Santana’s eyebrows shoot up and she snorts out a laugh, before they’re spared further conversation by Brittany’s return. “We brought DVDs,” Brittany reaches into her bag and emerges with half a dozen high school movies, and Santana follows her lead and pulls a packet of popcorn from her own bag.
Quinn smiles at them both, suddenly a little bashful as half-remembered shared childhood sleepovers flood back to her, “Thanks guys.”
+
Bring It On 3 is maybe the worse movie Santana has ever seen, but she stops caring sometime after Brittany sits on the floor by her feet and leans back against her legs, running her fingers up and down her calf. She shifts a little so Brittany is sitting in the gap between her legs, and Quinn watches her out of the corner of her eye as much as she watches the movie. Brittany rests her head against Santana’s knee, and loops her arm around Santana’s leg, pulling it closer. After a moment, Santana’s hand moves of its own accord and tangles in the hairs at the nape of Brittany’s neck, and Santana feels Brittany’s smile through the fabric of her leggings.
Brittany’s asleep by the end of the movie, and Santana looks to Quinn to see if she wants to put another disc in, and instead finds calculating eyes meeting her own.
“What?” Santana asks and then Quinn is closing the distance between them and kissing her, and Santana has no idea what’s going on. Quinn brushes her tongue against her lips, and Santana is too surprised to do anything but kiss back as Quinn reaches over to trail her fingers over Santana’s jaw hesitantly. She must have inadvertently kicked Brittany because by the time Quinn pulls back, Brittany is staring up at them wide-eyed, and Santana is pretty sure she’s wearing an identical expression.
She breathes hard and opens her mouth to ask one of the dozen questions in her head but Quinn shakes her head and says “Don’t talk,” quickly. Quinn offers Brittany her hand, and Brittany takes it slowly, eyes trying to find Quinn’s. Brittany stares at Quinn and Santana can’t help but think she’s missing something that’s passing between them.
After a moment, Brittany grins and scrambles up onto Santana’s lap, one leg either side of her hips, and kisses her, hard, and Santana’s brain goes quiet and stops offering her reasons why this is wrong.
And then Brittany pulls back to smile at her and leans over to find Quinn’s mouth, one hand still in Santana’s hair, and Santana’s brain shuts down completely.
+
Quinn’s eyes widen when Brittany pulls Santana’s shirt over her head and presses one hand inside her bra, and again when Santana gasps and arches into the touch, tangling her hand in Brittany’s hair and pulling her closer. Quinn watches them kiss and feels, for just a second, like she should leave, but then Brittany is pulling her to them and scraping teeth over her neck as Santana kisses her and she knows she has to stay.
+
“We should go upstairs,” Brittany whispers, later. She moves back to look at them both and after they pull apart and nod, she slides her hands under Quinn’s thighs and lifts her from the couch.
Quinn whimpers into Brittany’s neck as her legs wrap around Brittany’s waist and her eyes find Santana’s as she grabs their discarded shirts and follows them to the stairs.
Santana smirks, “Hot, right?” She grins as Quinn nods and blushes slightly, sliding an arm around Brittany’s shoulders.
“When San found out I could do this she made me carry her around her room for like half an hour, putting her down on everything.” Brittany stops, “Wait, you’re not going to make me do that, right?”
“Um,” Quinn squeaks, her voice much higher than usual, “No?”
Santana barks out a laugh behind them and pushes them along faster.
+
When Santana undoes the clasp of her bra, Quinn tries to keep one arm clasped tightly across her chest until Brittany kisses around it and tugs it away. Quinn gasps when Brittany’s tongue flicks over her nipple, and then she reaches for Santana and pushes her tongue into her mouth as Brittany sucks harder and cups her breast in her hand.
Brittany’s mouth disappears and the weight on the bed shifts, and then Santana shivers in her arms and chokes out a gasp into her mouth, and when Quinn looks past her Brittany is pressed against Santana’s back with one arm around her shoulders and the other between her legs, and Quinn can’t look away.
“Fuck,” Santana gasps into Quinn’s mouth, and she reaches a hand behind her desperately for Brittany as the other digs into Quinn’s back.
+
Quinn watches Santana’s face when she comes, watches the ways her eyes squeeze shut and she collapses backwards into Brittany’s arms, watches the way Brittany wraps her arms around Santana and presses kisses into her shoulders over and over again.
When Santana arches her neck and kisses the underside of Brittany’s chin, just once, clumsily and softly, Quinn gets that feeling again in the pit of her stomach, like she’s intruding on something she has no right to see. She blinks and looks away, suddenly self conscious.
Santana exhales noisily and then her eyes settle on Quinn, and the smile on her face turns into a smirk. “Come here.”
Santana takes her hand and turns, pulling Quinn with her until they’re both facing Brittany, and then she pushes Brittany down onto the bed with one hand, and pushes Quinn’s fingers into the wetness between Brittany’s legs with the other, and the only thing Quinn can think to say is, “Oh.”
+
Santana keeps her hand over Quinn’s, and it isn’t long before Brittany is squirming beneath them, the muscles in her legs straining with the effort of not moving. She bucks her hips up into their fingers and her hands fist in the sheets tightly as she whimpers into the pillow next to her head.
Quinn thinks Santana must have some kind of sixth sense, because a second before Brittany’s eyes fly open and her hips start to move more desperately, Santana moves her hand away from Quinn’s, pushing two fingers inside of Brittany in time with the movement of her hips.
Brittany comes with a cry that sounds a lot like Santana’s name and then Santana leans down to kiss her hard, pulling Quinn with her.
+
“You guys don’t have to...”
“Don’t do that,” Santana whispers, moving closer.
“We want to,” Brittany adds from somewhere behind her, and then Quinn closes her eyes.
+
Quinn comes with Brittany’s fingers inside her and Santana’s thumb circling her clit, one arm around Brittany’s neck, the other holding Santana’s free hand tightly, like she might never let go.
+
In the morning Santana wakes up alone, and when she pulls her clothes on and goes downstairs to look for the others she finds them sitting on the couch, Brittany’s legs in Quinn’s lap, passing a box of cereal between them and laughing at Spongebob Squarepants re-runs. They go silent when Santana sits down on Brittany’s other side, and then she reaches for the box and laughs at the television, and Brittany leans into her side while Quinn flicks frosted flakes at her head, and they spend the rest of the day there, until Judy comes home.
+
It’s Quinn’s turn to drive, and they spend most of the party dancing together and ignoring the guys that try to get between them. Santana doesn’t feel like drinking, so she doesn’t, and since she and Quinn aren’t, Brittany doesn’t either. They have a good time and when the party’s starting to break up, Brittany wraps an arm around Santana’s neck and says she wants to go home in a way that makes her grin in response and pull her towards the car.
Quinn’s half into the car when Brittany climbs into the back seat and pulls Santana in with her.
“Uh, Britt...” Santana murmurs, catching Quinn’s eyes regarding them silently in the rear-view mirror.
“S’ok,” Brittany murmurs, leaning into her neck, “It’s just Quinn.”
Quinn coughs from the front seat, loudly, and Brittany pulls away from Santana and huffs a little, clipping her seat belt into place and contenting herself with reaching over a second later to take Santana’s hand.
“Where are we going?” Quinn asks, something strange in her voice, and Santana watches as the reflection of her eyes settles on their joined hands.
“My house,” Brittany says, eyes seeking Santana’s for confirmation. Santana nods mutely, sure, suddenly, that that wasn’t what Quinn was asking.
Quinn nods and puts the car into drive, and they cover the streets in silence except for Brittany’s occasional giggle. When they get to Brittany’s house, Brittany opens her door and pulls Santana after her, shouting, “Thanks Quinn!” before Quinn has turned the engine off.
Santana watches as Quinn turns red and her face drops momentarily before it suddenly turns expressionless as she shifts the car into reverse. “Bye guys,” her voice sounds odd to Santana’s ears, and she watches the car back out of the driveway slowly, as though Quinn is hoping they’ll call her back. Then Brittany tugs on her hand, and whispers about going upstairs, and Santana grins and lets herself be led inside.
+
After, Brittany curls into Santana’s chest and falls asleep and Santana wonders if she should find her cell and call Quinn, but she doesn’t want to move and wake Brittany, so she tightens her grip around Brittany’s shoulders and drifts off to sleep.
+
Quinn calls when Brittany is at some morning long open day at her dance school, and Santana hesitates for a second before she accepts Quinn’s invitation to come over. When Santana gets there, Quinn is wearing nothing but a bikini, with a towel wrapped round her waist, and Santana swallows nervously, unable to keep her eyes on Quinn’s face.
Quinn smirks a little, “I was out by the pool sunbathing.”
“Oh,” Santana says, hating the way her mind offers silent comparisons to Brittany, and then, as though upset it’s being ignored, images of Quinn lying naked beneath her while Brittany kisses her heatedly. “Shall we go outside then?” Santana moves towards the back door but Quinn blocks her path, stepping closer.
“I thought we might go upstairs.” Her voice is low and husky the same way it was during their night with Brittany, and Santana blinks rapidly as Quinn comes closer, leaning up slightly to kiss her, one hand sliding round to the nape of her neck to pull her closer.
Santana can’t help the way she leans in a little, feeling the heat of Quinn pressed into her chest as she kisses her back, but when Quinn starts to walk her backwards towards the stairs, she pushes her away and steps back, breathing hard. “Quinn...” she trails off and there’s a warning in her voice.
Quinn folds her arms across her chest and meets Santana’s gaze confrontationally, “What?” her voice is a whisper but Santana can hear the anger in it.
“I-I should go,” Santana stammers, hating how she can’t find the words. “Britt won’t - I mean, we... God Quinn what the hell?”
Quinn unfastens the towel from her waist and pulls it up to cover her chest, the colour slowly draining out of her face. “Get out,” she says expressionlessly, and then louder, again, “Get out!”
Santana turns and flees. When she gets home she has a text message from Quinn: “I just want what you two have.” Santana deletes it and tries to ignore the guilty feeling nagging at her from the back of her mind.
+
Brittany texts Santana to meet her at the Lima Bean and when Santana gets there Quinn is sitting next to Brittany scowling into the bottom of her soy latte.
“Now talk,” Brittany orders when Santana pulls up a chair, and Santana wonders how much Quinn has told her.
Quinn huffs and tears at the edges of her napkin, refusing to look up. After a moment, Santana reaches over to take it away from her. Quinn’s eyes follow it, “What do you want me to say?” she asks, finally.
“What about ‘hi’?” Brittany prompts innocently, and Santana suppresses a smile.
“Hi,” Santana says softly, and after a second Quinn looks up.
“Hi,” she says, her expression guarded.
+
On Friday night they go to a party at Mike Chang’s and Santana is surprised to find Tina there, holding on to his arm. Brittany just shrugs and says they were councillors together at Asian camp, and Santana glances at her sideways, trying to tell if she’s joking. Quinn has already disappeared, probably to find beer, and Santana wishes she could follow but Brittany is already pulling her towards Mile and Tina, “Hey guys!”
“Hey Britt,” Mike grins, and loops his arm around Tina’s waist possessively. “Santana,” he adds.
Santana offers them her best fake smile and then looks around for Quinn again, hoping she’d have the presence of mind to bring her a beer too. She tunes out most of the conversation because she might love glee but she can’t quite find it in her to muster enthusiasm for Tina’s love life, and then Quinn appears in the doorway on the other side of the room holding two cups and Santana shoots her a grin and excuses herself.
“Thank God, I thought you were never coming back. And with beer too.” Santana raises her cup in a salute before she downs half of it in one go.
“So Mike and Tina?” Quinn nods towards the others, where Brittany is now enthusiastically demonstrating some ridiculously complicated dance step, and Santana feels her heart tighten in her chest painfully.
She drinks the rest of her beer before she answers. “I guess so.”
“You know, I used to think there was something going on between Mike and Brittany,” Quinn adds, and now she’s looking at Santana carefully.
Santana snorts, “They just have this weird dancing best friend thing going on. She doesn’t like him like that.”
“Oh,” Quinn sips her drink slowly. Her eyes take in Santana’s expression as she watches Brittany, “Does she like someone else?”
Brittany chooses that moment to look over at them, and she grins and waves when her eyes meet Santana’s. Santana’s voice is strangely tight as she answers, “I don’t think so.”
“Oh,” Quinn takes another sip of her beer and finally looks away, “OK.”
+
Santana shotguns another beer, and another three after that, and pretty soon the room is spinning around her in a way that has nothing to do with the way she’s dancing. She knows Brittany is there somewhere and the back of her mind keeps telling her to slow down and find her, but she keeps dancing and pretty soon it shuts up.
+
“San! Santana!” Brittany’s concerned face is swimming in front of her eyes and then the world tips and she can’t see anything but blond hair as arms wrap around her and make her feel safe.
“Quinn, open the door,” their voices are coming from far away, and then the arms disappear and Santana’s face is pressed against cool glass and from somewhere near her feet she hears a car door slam shut. She hears two more doors and then an engine starts and they’re moving.
“What did you say to her?”
“I didn’t -“
“Quinn, what did you say to her?”
Santana keeps her eyes squeezed shut, and her feet braced against the door as they turn the corners. She tries to count the number of times they turn and work out where they are, but the whole world is spinning and it disorientates her and makes her lose track.
Silence. Then: “What’s going on between you two?”
“Nothing.”
“Brittany -“
“She’s my best friend.”
The car comes to a stop and Santana tries to open her eyes because she should be looking at Brittany when she says this, “Mi mejor amiga.” She smiles, “My Britt-Britt.”
Brittany’s face appears in the gap between seats and she reaches to cup her cheek comfortingly, “Shush now, San. I’m gonna take you home.”
Santana smiles again and hums happily as she shuts her eyes, “Mmk Britt.”
“You need to get out now Quinn.”
“But -“
“Bye, Quinn.”
Santana hears a car door open and close.
+
When the car stops again Santana feels a little better and when Brittany opens the door Santana manages to sit up and move to the edge of the seat, facing Brittany.
“Hi,” Santana says, because it’s literally the only thing she can think of to say. Then the first sob forces its way out of her throat and she reaches for Brittany and presses her face into her stomach as Brittany’s hands tangle in her hair tightly.
“Te amo,” Santana chokes out over and over, something like an apology in her voice, and Brittany presses kisses into her hair and holds her tight for a long time before she stops.
+
Santana wakes up in Brittany’s arms with Brittany watching her with a smile on her face. Her head is pounding and the light coming through Brittany’s window hurts her eyes, so she snuggles further into Brittany’s embrace and lets herself feel safe, just for a moment.
+
Brittany phone rings at lunch time and Brittany eases Santana out of her arms to get it. She stares at the caller ID and then sends the call to voicemail. Santana blinks at her sleepily as Brittany settles against her again.
“It was Quinn,” Brittany explains simply as she closes her eyes.
+
“I need to shower,” Santana murmurs sleepily, later.
“OK,” Brittany whispers into her forehead, and slowly untangles their limbs.
+
Santana lets the shower burn too hot and when she pulls on the spare pyjamas she keeps at Brittany’s house her skin is tender and flushed. She goes back into Brittany’s room and climbs back into the bed, burying her head in Brittany’s shoulder.
“School starts soon,” Brittany says quietly as she shifts onto her back and pulls Santana closer.
Santana murmurs assent into her shoulder.
“It won’t be the same there, will it?”
Santana doesn’t have to ask Brittany what she means. She stays silent and tightens her grip on Brittany’s arm.
“I love you,” Brittany mumbles eventually, and Santana squeezes her eyes shut and swallows hard, wishing she knew what to say.
+
Later, Brittany rolls on top of her and stares into her eyes for a long while before she cups her face in her hands gently and kisses her. She trails a hand over the skin of Santana’s stomach lightly, and Santana shivers when Brittany’s fingers find the heat between her legs and start to move. It’s impossibly slow and gentle, and as Brittany presses their lips together again Santana feels the ache she’s had in her stomach for as long as she can remember subside, just for a little while.
+
When they wake up in the morning, Brittany has five missed calls from Quinn and Santana watches her carefully delete each one from her call log.
“I thought you wanted us all to be friends again,” Santana says.
Brittany looks up at her and smiles sadly, then cants her head to one side shrugging slightly. “Sometimes I’m not sure if we were really friends to begin with.”
+
Santana is halfway home when Quinn calls her. She stops walking and stares at her phone like she’s never seen it before, and then the call dies and she shoves the phone back into her pocket and starts to run.
When she gets home she leans her head against her front door, breathing hard.
+
The weekend before school starts, Santana plants her feet and crosses her arms over her chest, refusing to go to Karofsky’s party. Brittany shrugs and relents, and tries to ignore the way Santana keeps fiddling with her phone, flipping it open and shut and looking for messages that aren’t there. They spend the night watching cartoons with Brittany’s sister sandwiched between them, and Santana shifts on the couch restlessly until Brittany catches her eye over her sister’s head with a worried expression on her face, and then she makes more of an effort to sit still.
When Brittany takes her sister to bed, Santana’s fingers hover over Quinn’s number, but she snaps the phone shut when Brittany sits down in her lap and throws her arms around her neck.
“We’ll see her Monday,” Brittany whispers into her ear, and Santana just nods and pulls her closer.
+
On Sunday morning when she knows Quinn will be at church, Santana dials Quinn’s number and goes straight through to her answer phone like she expected. She swallows and hesitates, feeling the seconds tick away, and then she says, “See you tomorrow,” and hangs up.
+
The first day of school, Santana leans against her locker and surveys the kids in the hallways before the morning bell. Brittany shoves things into the locker next to hers until she’s holding nothing but her notepad, and then slams the door shut, turning to follow Santana’s gaze.
Quinn opens a locker a little way down the row, and side eyes them as she pretends to busy herself sorting through the contents.
Santana watches as Jacob appears and shoves a microphone in Quinn’s face as she shuts the door, and she sidles closer with Brittany by her side, wanting to hear what they’re saying.
She paints a disinterested look on her face, and tries to ignore the grateful way Quinn glances at her, and when Jacob asks her how her summer was she just shrugs and says, “It was uneventful.”