Celibacy
Title: Celibacy
Pairing: Santana/Brittany
Rating: R for some language
Summary: Against her normal instincts, Santana closes her eyes and braces herself.
Spoilers: For Acafellas
Santana throws up her hands and starts cursing again, but Brittany undoes her seatbelt and is clambering into the back seat of Santana's car, nearly knocking an old cup of coffee out of a cup holder in the process.
"Fuck," Santana hisses, sliding out of her seatbelt and turning in her seat. The blonde is settling herself in the corner of the back seat, face set in that look that Santana knows from experience says she isn't going anywhere until Santana listens to her. "Brittany, what the hell are you doing?"
"We need to talk," Brittany says evenly, arching a brow as she crosses her arms primly over her chest. "Get back here."
Santana’s head whips left and right as she looks out the car windows, but really, parked in some random residential street, they aren’t making any kind of scene. And it being almost fall and after Cheerio practice, it's nearly dark and most families are already sitting down to dinner.
Clenching her jaw, Santana throws her hands up again in exasperation, turns off the engine, and rests a hand on the shoulder of the passenger seat as she heaves herself up and over into the backseat.
She has one leg over and is trying not to bang her other shin on the gearshift when Brittany takes her hand and yanks.
Against her normal instincts, Santana closes her eyes and braces herself. But Brittany pulls her forward as she falls, and Santana's nose nearly smashes into Brittany’s shoulder as she scrambles not to slide off Brittany and fall on her ass like a total moron. So when she realizes that she has an arm hooked around Brittany's neck and that she’s pretty much straddling the blonde's lap, Santana decides to keep her eyes shut.
She feels more then she sees Brittany bow her head, pressing a kiss to the hollow of her throat. Her soft breath tickles her skin, and Santana tilts her head back and tries desperately to suppress the shiver that runs through her body as one of Brittany's hand slide down to rest at the small of her back, hugging her close enough that Santana can feel Brittany's curves press up against her body. The blonde's other hand rests on the skin between the gap of her shirt and skirt. The whispery rasp of nails against Santana's skin elicits a traitorous whimper.
"Today in celibacy club," Brittany says softly, as her hand slides down from Santana's back to her thigh, palm flat and fingers splaying. "You remember what Rachel said? About girls wanting it just as much as guys?"
"I do," Santana whispers. "What about it?"
"I want you," Brittany says hungrily, teeth ghosting over Santana's collarbone. Santana finds her voice, shaky though it may be, as Brittany presses her down onto the backseat and hands slide under clothes.
"I want you, too."
Neither one ever goes to another celibacy club meeting again.
Pairing: Santana/Brittany
Rating: R for some language
Summary: Against her normal instincts, Santana closes her eyes and braces herself.
Spoilers: For Acafellas
Santana throws up her hands and starts cursing again, but Brittany undoes her seatbelt and is clambering into the back seat of Santana's car, nearly knocking an old cup of coffee out of a cup holder in the process.
"Fuck," Santana hisses, sliding out of her seatbelt and turning in her seat. The blonde is settling herself in the corner of the back seat, face set in that look that Santana knows from experience says she isn't going anywhere until Santana listens to her. "Brittany, what the hell are you doing?"
"We need to talk," Brittany says evenly, arching a brow as she crosses her arms primly over her chest. "Get back here."
Santana’s head whips left and right as she looks out the car windows, but really, parked in some random residential street, they aren’t making any kind of scene. And it being almost fall and after Cheerio practice, it's nearly dark and most families are already sitting down to dinner.
Clenching her jaw, Santana throws her hands up again in exasperation, turns off the engine, and rests a hand on the shoulder of the passenger seat as she heaves herself up and over into the backseat.
She has one leg over and is trying not to bang her other shin on the gearshift when Brittany takes her hand and yanks.
Against her normal instincts, Santana closes her eyes and braces herself. But Brittany pulls her forward as she falls, and Santana's nose nearly smashes into Brittany’s shoulder as she scrambles not to slide off Brittany and fall on her ass like a total moron. So when she realizes that she has an arm hooked around Brittany's neck and that she’s pretty much straddling the blonde's lap, Santana decides to keep her eyes shut.
She feels more then she sees Brittany bow her head, pressing a kiss to the hollow of her throat. Her soft breath tickles her skin, and Santana tilts her head back and tries desperately to suppress the shiver that runs through her body as one of Brittany's hand slide down to rest at the small of her back, hugging her close enough that Santana can feel Brittany's curves press up against her body. The blonde's other hand rests on the skin between the gap of her shirt and skirt. The whispery rasp of nails against Santana's skin elicits a traitorous whimper.
"Today in celibacy club," Brittany says softly, as her hand slides down from Santana's back to her thigh, palm flat and fingers splaying. "You remember what Rachel said? About girls wanting it just as much as guys?"
"I do," Santana whispers. "What about it?"
"I want you," Brittany says hungrily, teeth ghosting over Santana's collarbone. Santana finds her voice, shaky though it may be, as Brittany presses her down onto the backseat and hands slide under clothes.
"I want you, too."
Neither one ever goes to another celibacy club meeting again.