Sleepovers: A Secret History (4/?)
Title: Sleepovers: A Secret History (4/?)
Pairing: Santana/Brittany
Rating: R
Summary: Brittany and Santana are still in 9th grade, but a little older and wiser than the last installment of this story. It's just after Christmas, they're babysitting Brittany's little sister, and having a very cozy sleepover.
Author's Note: Its (still) been a while since I first posted this story here, but I have been working on it, and I'm still going forward with the concept. So more sleepovers to come. ;)
(also posted at fanfiction.net under my other screenname - shamelsshussy)
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3 (part 1)
Chapter 3 (part 2)
9th Grade, December
“You’re coming in here right?”
She didn’t answer, just walked over and crawled in, flattening herself to fit under the coffee table at the fort’s entrance.
Santana scooted around and lay down, making room for Brittany. It was warm and close inside the fort, so she had taken her sweater off, just had her tanktop on. She lay with her head on a stack of pillows that she had propped against the front side of the couch, her bare arms folded across her stomach. She was short enough so that she could lay with her legs straight out. When Brittany lay next to her, her legs were too long to fit, she had to bend her knees.
They lay shoulder to shoulder, looking up at Brittany’s pink bed sheets, neither one feeling much need to move, or speak.
Brittany thought some more about Santana going over to John’s house. Without his parents there they’d raid the liquor cabinet. Santana was still a sloppy drunk. She’d be pliant, then sick. John probably wouldn’t care about the sick.
“San?”
“Yeah?”
“Maybe…maybe you shouldn’t go to John’s house.”
Santana let the words settle in the silence. Coming from Quinn the same sentence would have sounded like church bossiness. Coming from Brittany, the words were warm, appealing.
But that didn’t change anything. “I said I would go.”
“Are you gonna...”
“I guess, if he wants to, we will.”
Brittany stretched out her fingers and found Santana’s hand.
They lay quiet for another long while, so long that Santana thought maybe Brittany was asleep. But then she felt Brittany shift, slide fingertips gently down the length of her fingers and back up.
Santana let Brittany bump and bend her fingers. She wanted to close her eyes and sleep. She wanted to live forever with Brittany in a pillow fort.
Now Brittany was tickling her arm, up to the elbow.
“Brit.”
Santana squirmed. She took her hand from Brittany’s and turned toward her, tucking her arm beneath herself.
Brittany mirrored Santana’s actions, turned so they were facing each other. She slid her hand along the smooth skin of Santana’s arm, up to her shoulder, ran her nails gently back down.
“Brit.” Santana squirmed again, but Brittany didn’t let her arm go.
“You’ve got muscles now.”
Santana pressed her toes down against the top of Brittany’s foot. “You’re still stronger.”
Brittany pressed Santana’s nose with the tip of her own.
“You always wear makeup now too.”
“I just want to be pretty.”
Santana’s t’s and p’s and b’s were small explosions against Brittany’s mouth.
Santana lowered her eyes, and Brittany liked it so much, the way her dark lashes lay against her cheeks.
Brittany thought she knew Santana’s secrets. But now, so close, she could feel something nameless and new under her skin, pulsing like a second heartbeat.
She brushed her mouth against Santana’s, not quite a kiss. A touch. Like the way Santana had traced her thumb over the outline of a bruise on Brittany’s knee after practice last Wednesday - light, gentle, mapping.
Santana didn’t breathe. Her eyes fluttered open. She tried to speak.
“Shh…” Brittany hushed her. “You’re telling me new secrets.”
Brittany pushed closer, a hand on Santana’s hip now, a hard kiss on her closed mouth.
Santana breathed out - a sigh, a small sound at the back of her throat, like a knot in her had come untied.
Brittany kissed again, this time catching Santana’s bottom lip.
Santana knew her own secret now. She had thought about this. She knew what she wanted to do. So she did it. She slipped her tongue against Brittany’s top lip, tasted cinnamon from dessert.
Brittany smiled against Santana’s mouth. This was exciting. She experimented, bit down on Santana’s lip.
“Ow.”
Santana pulled back, not far. “That hurt.”
“Sorry.” Some people liked bites.
Brittany ran her thumb over Santana’s bottom lip, smearing what was left of her lipstick. She leaned in and peppered small kisses along her lip and chin.
“Better?”
Santana nodded. She couldn’t quite speak.
Brittany nuzzled Santana’s check, rubbing her nose over the soft curves of her face, placing soft kisses at the corner of her mouth. One. Two. Three.
And then Santana turned her head slightly, caught Brittany’s open mouth with her own. For the first time, Santana really kissed Brittany, lightly sucking, teasing with her tongue.
It was Brittany’s turn to be a little breathless.
Santana pulled back a little, watched Brittany, saw something new sparking across the familiar skies of her eyes.
Brittany tightened her grip on Santana’s hip, and somehow they were closer still.
“You’re a good kisser San.”
Santana grinned. “Told you.”
Brittany leaned in again, bringing her mouth to Santana’s with more force and purpose. Her tongue was stroking Santana’s in seconds.
Santana responded eagerly, fluttering the tip of her tongue against the inside of Brittany’s top lip. The rhythm made Brittany’s heart race and her hips surge against Santana’s.
Santana gave at the pressure. Her soft warm body poured against Brittany’s like a liquid, and now she was on top of her, their legs tangling together, her hands sliding into Brittany’s hair, keeping Brittany’s mouth pressed against her own.
Santana kissed Brittany until her head swam.
When they parted, they were both short of breath. Even in the dim fort, Santana could see the flush in Brittany’s cheeks, at the tips of her ears.
She kissed the blush at Brittany’s left ear. And now her cheek. Back to Brittany’s mouth, wanting more of the way she tasted, sucking gently on her tongue to get it.
Brittany let her mouth go loose and lazy for Santana to explore. But her hands went roaming, tickling the soft skin behind Santana’s knees, dragging her nails up the backs of Santana’s thighs.
The sensation sent a delicious shiver over Santana’s skin. Goosebumps rose on her arms, legs, neck.
Brittany let her fingers linger on Santana’s thighs, stroking over silky skin. She kissed her way her chin, brought her mouth to Santana’s neck. She bit gently, bit again, sucked hard.
“Ohh…” The sound was unexpectedly loud. Santana realized it had come from her.
Brittany giggled into Santana’s neck.
“Oh yeah?”
Santana sat up, her head brushing the roof of blankets. She sat back on her heels, pushed the hem of Brittany’s sweater up a few inches, exposing a strip of luminous skin.
She trailed her fingertips across Brittany’s belly, down to her left side, her most ticklish side. She idly traced a pattern with her fingers, watched Brittany try not to laugh. Then she bent her head, brought her mouth to the same spot, flicked the tip of he tongue against the sensitive skin there.
“Ohhh…”
“Mmmhmm.” Santana hummed against Brittany’s body.
“Come back.” Brittany wanted more kisses.
Careful of the walls of the fort, Santana wriggled around until she was lying next to Brittany again.
Brittany propped herself up on one elbow, looked at Santana. Her lipstick had been kissed off, her mascara was smudged, her hair was curling in the warm, moist air.
“You are pretty.”
Brittany’s intense gaze made Santana blush and shift, a tightness clench at her lungs. But now that they had done this already, it was easy to reach out, pull her closer, find her mouth, kiss and breathe again.
They kissed until their lips were buzzing and their skin hummed. Careful kisses at earlobes, and gentle licks at the corners of each other’s mouths; nibbles on each other’s lips that led to sloppy, lingering kisses with tongue. Brittany sucked on Santana’s fingers, Santana left sucking bites spangled across Brittany’s collarbone.
They kissed until they found the taste of themselves on each other’s mouths.
They kissed until forever, and fell asleep, still spilling secrets at each other’s lips.
Santana awoke to the sound of a key in the door, a short burst of laughter from Brittany’s mother as they came in from the cold.
Her stomach clenched. She just wanted to hide and hide and hide. But this was their living room. She suspected they’d find her.
Brittany was sleeping curled into Santana’s side, her head pillowed on Santana’s shoulder.
Santana reached down and brushed a lock of blonde hair from Brittany’s face.
“Brit. Your parents are home.”
Brittany, as usual, was awake immediately. She smiled at Santana, pulled her close for a quick kiss. Before Santana could react, she was crawling out of the fort.
“Hi Mama. Hi Daddy.”
Santana followed more slowly. She pulled her sweater on. At least she could hide the bite marks Brittany had left on her shoulders.
Brittany was standing in the darkened hall, whispering with her parents. Santana noticed that she had strategically placed herself in front of the light switch. She grinned to herself. Brittany wasn’t dumb at all.
“…kind of a pain about bedtime, but it was fine. I had to promise her we’d leave the fort up though. In the living room.”
“Oh, that’s fine.” Anna waved a lazy hand through the air, and swayed a little against her husband. Tom wrapped a hand around her waist to steady her.
Santana ran a hand through her wild hair and edged a little closer. Brittany saw her, and reached out for her hand.
“We’re sleepy now though. Goodnight.”
Brittany pulled her up the stairs, two at a time.
Tom wandered into the living room. “Nice fort.”
Anna hiccupped and headed for the stairs. “Mmmm. Bring me two advil and some water babe?”
“You got it.”
Brittany and Santana sprinted down the hall, dashed into Brittany’s room. They closed the door behind them and collapsed into giggles. Nothing was funny but everything was sort of hilarious.
Santana sank down on the bed, realized there was only a fitted sheet.
“Fuckers. All the pillows and shit are downstairs.”
“There’s some extras in the hall closet.”
“I’ll get them. I have to pee.”
Santana stepped into the hallway, saw Anna slipping in to Chrissy’s room to check on her. She headed in the other direction, toward the hall bathroom.
Inside, she turned on the light and got a good look at herself in the mirror. Her hair was a mess, and a new hickey bloomed on the other side of her neck, but even she had to admit, she looked kind of sexy. Her lips were swollen from Brittany’s kisses, her eyes were large and gorgeous. She leaned in to look more closely at herself, smiled at her reflection.
But alone in the mirror in the middle of the night was one thing. Real life was another thing entirely. She bit her lip. For the first time ever, she wondered what to say to Brittany.
But she was too tired, her body too relaxed to think hard. After a few minutes, she headed back to the bedroom, grabbing a blanket from the linen closet along the way.
Brittany was sitting cross-legged on her bed. She had changed into sweats and a tank top.
Santana tossed her the blanket, and turned to find her own pajamas. She realized she’d have to change, right there, in front of Brittany, and moved more slowly.
Brittany finished spreading the blanket over the bed.
“Can you help me with Spanish tomorrow?”
Santana pulled her sweater over her head, figured she could just sleep in this tanktop.
“Yeah, of course, I’ll do it for you.”
She fiddled with the zipper on her skirt, realized she was just being silly. She pushed the skirt down off her hips, pulled her shorts on. She realized she had put them on backwards, had to stand for a minute in her panties while she fixed them. When she looked up, she found Brittany’s eyes were on her.
“Come to bed.”
She padded slowly over to the bed, slipped under the blanket. It was cold without sheets and a quilt, uncomfortable without any pillows. But Brittany was warm. Santana slid her hands under Brittany’s tank top, touching her palms to Brittany’s abdomen.
Brittany wrapped her arms around Santana.
“Don’t worry so much.”
“I wasn’t…”
“Yes you were.”
“It’s just…we can’t…everyone…” Santana’s voice rose to a panicky pitch.
“Fuck everyone.”
Santana was shocked. Brittany never cursed, ever.
Brittany took advantage of Santana’s speechlessness, pressed a hard kiss against her open mouth, kissed until they were both trembling. She pulled Santana on top of her, her thigh sliding up to fit perfectly between Santana’s. They were still for a second, then moved together, the friction of their clothes both a frustration and part of their delight. They were keyed up and humming already, it only took a few seconds. Santana crashed first, jolting against Brittany, a hard thrust that sent her over the edge too.
Santana had fallen forward, against Brittany’s neck. She licked it. Brittany was salty.
Brittany tightened her arms around Santana and said what she knew Santana needed to hear.
“Don’t worry. We’re a secret.”