Fic: Summer (Brittany/Santana, NC-17)
Title: Summer
Pairing: Brittany/Santana with sides of Quinntana friendship, Unholy Trinity friendship, other canon pairings.
Rating: NC-17
Summary: It’s the longest summer of Santana’s life, and every time she wants to kiss Brittany she hugs her instead.
Word Count: 5,300.
Spoilers: Up to 2.22 “New York”
They haven’t really made summer plans and without Cheer camp their summer has lost any kind of structure, so Santana doesn’t bother setting an alarm for her first morning of freedom. Brittany evidently has; Santana wakes with a surprised shout as Brittany bounds through her door and falls onto the bed next to her. Santana feels like someone has thrown a bucket of cold water over her; Brittany’s presence is always intoxicating but she isn’t ready to face it without a moment to prepare herself.
Brittany leans closer with a happy smile on her face, “Hey!”
Santana groans and tries to pull the covers over her head. After a moment, Brittany tugs them out of her hand impatiently. “Wake up sleepyhead!”
Brittany leans closer, and Santana’s sleepy brain fixes her eyes on Brittany’s lips like they’re the only thing in the world. Santana bites her lip, and leans up to pull Brittany down into a hug instead. Brittany laughs and tries to wriggle out of the embrace, and Santana feels the laughter bubbling up in her own throat. She rolls and pulls Brittany with her, so she comes up on top of her best friend, one knee either side of Brittany’s hips, and she presses Brittany’s hands down into the mattress with her own. They stay like that for a moment, eyes locked, unblinking. Brittany’s hair is tousled on the pillow in the most adorable way, and there’s a faint blush on her cheeks. She sucks in a deep breath and looks like she’s about to say something, and then Santana remembers they shouldn’t do this right now and slides her hands out of Brittany’s and looks away. Brittany pushes herself up off the bed and sits up, invading Santana’s personal space and resting her hands lightly on Santana’s hips like they belong there.
Santana swallows hard, Maybe this is going to be harder than I thought.
She climbs off Brittany reluctantly, and falls onto her back on the bed. Brittany scoots a little bit closer and bumps their elbows together. “Wanna go get coffee?”
Santana exhales slowly and forces a smile onto her face, “Sure.”
Santana has no idea where Brittany keeps getting her hats from. She’s pretty sure she’s never seen Brittany buy a hat when they’ve been shopping, but day after day Brittany has some new, totally adorable hat on her head, and it’s all Santana can do to keep herself from throwing herself at the blond. She’s always thought Brittany has the ability to look amazing in anything, but there’s something about the way Brittany shows up each morning with a spring in her step, canting her head to the side to better display her new headwear, one hand coming up to adjust her hair, that completely undoes Santana. It’s just a hat, for god’s sake. A fucking hat. When did she get so pathetic?
They’re bowling with Tina, Mike, Sam, Mercedes, Kurt and Blaine when the hat thing gets to be a problem. Tina had invited them along, and when they’d shown up it got to be pretty obvious that this was supposed to be a happy group date thing. Which ok, so everyone knows, but they haven’t said anything, and they’re not even dating, so she’s not sure where their friends are getting their information from. Still, it’s nice in a way that Santana can’t really place, and everyone smiles at them, and Brittany sits way closer than she needs to on the bench next to her, and she feels included in something for the first time in a long time.
Brittany’s never been much good at bowling. Sam gives her tips, and on her fourth turn she manages to knock over half the pins instead of rolling the ball into the gutter. Brittany jumps up and down happily, spinning into a couple of dance steps in time with whatever awful music is currently crackling out of the PA.
She spins again and bounces over to Santana, flushed with success. “I knocked something over!” She’s wearing that fluffy deerstalker hat that she loves so much, and it’s slid round to a jaunty angle in all the jumping around.
Santana grins back at her, “You were awesome.” She watches as Brittany reaches up to adjust her hat and feels a lurch in the pit of her stomach. She’s moving before she realises it, and her hands come up to tangle in the strings of Brittany’s hat. She wraps them around her fingers once, and uses them to pull Brittany closer. Brittany rests her hands on the back of the bench behind Santana to keep her balance as Santana continues to tug insistently on the strings. Brittany bites her lip and her eyes flicker down to Santana’s lips and then back up to her eyes, and all Santana can see is Brittany in her hat coming closer, and all she can feel is desire low in her belly.
She remembers the taking it slow thing when they’re close enough to breathe the same air, and with considerable effort, shifts her head to the side and onto Brittany’s shoulder instead. She lets go of the strings and wraps her arms around Brittany tightly.
When they pull apart she’s pretty sure she hears Mercedes whisper something to Tina about how cute they are, and everyone else is exchanging sneaky smiles, so she stands up quickly and reaches for a bowling ball. “Now I’ma show you how we do it in Lima Heights!”
By luck rather than skill, she manages to get a strike and Brittany jumps to her feet and cheers loudly as Santana grins and spreads her hands, inviting the others to try and beat her.
When she goes over to sit next to Brittany, Brittany wraps an arm around her shoulder and leans over to Tina who’s up next, “That’s my girl, and she’s kicking your ass.”
When Tina’s stepped away, Santana leans in to Brittany’s ear and whispers, “’My girl?’”
Brittany turns to smile at her, “You’ll always be my girl, Santana.”
Santana couldn’t argue with that.
This whole thing would be a lot easier if Brittany wasn’t so damned handsy all the time. Well, ok, maybe she was a little handsy too. God knows she wanted to touch Brittany pretty much all of the time, but there’d been distance between them lately and that was easier to deal with than the constant touching that never lead where Santana wanted it to. And it wasn’t just a sex thing, though yeah, she missed it. She just wanted to be closer to Brittany, in all the ways that they used to be, before all the words came between them and disrupted their easy intimacy.
Still, it’s some kind of torture to have Brittany lying so close to her in a bikini and nothing else. Brittany props herself up on an elbow occasionally to check that her little sister is still ok - they’re supposed to be babysitting after all, not sunbathing - before sinking back down next to Santana in the grass. She reaches for Santana’s head and laces her fingers through Santana’s loosely, and one of her feet rests comfortably against Santana’s.
Santana can feel the heat of Brittany next to her, in a way that has nothing to do with the impossibly sunny day they’re currently enjoying, and she tries in vain to keep her eyes from raking up and down Brittany’s body which is almost impossible with the way she looks in that bikini. Brittany shifts her head round to look at Santana, and she blushes when Santana quickly looks away, embarrassed to be caught checking her out.
“Sorry,” Santana mutters, she looks back but still can’t bring herself to meet Brittany’s eyes. Brittany offers her a little shrug, and there’s a smile dancing around the corners of her mouth.
Brittany catches Santana’s gaze, and rolls over onto her side with a fine disregard for even tanning. She brings her fingers up to trace the side of Santana’s face gently, “It’s ok,” she whispers, and suddenly the moment has turned a lot more serious. Brittany strokes the pads of her fingers against Santana’s cheekbone lightly, in a way that Santana has always loved, and Santana’s hand moves to rest on Brittany’s hipbone as she shifts her weight and rolls to face the other girl.
Brittany’s hand moves to the nape of Santana’s neck and presses forward, urging Santana closer. Santana feels a shiver run through her and part of her thinks finally.
Santana is still an inch away when they’re interrupted by a fit of giggles from nearby.
“Brittany and Santana sitting in a tree! K-I-S-S-I-N-G!”
Brittany closes her eyes for a second and then smiles ruefully and pulls away, climbing to her feet in one fluid movement and reaching for her little sister. Santana watches as Brittany grabs her and spins her round asking if anyone ever told her it was rude to spy on people. Her sister continues to giggle, and despite the disappointment Santana feels, she smiles as they chase each other round Brittany’s backyard.
After a moment, she flops back down onto her back and sighs, closing her eyes and imagining the feel of Brittany’s lips on hers.
On one rare morning apart from Brittany, Santana gets coffee with Quinn, and she’s missed this a little more than she’d ever admit. They talk about Sam and Mercedes, and how no one saw that coming, before Quinn gets a little misty eyed and says, “Maybe I’ll meet someone soon,” in a way that’s probably supposed to sound flippant but doesn’t at all.
Santana shrugs, and reaches across the table to give Quinn’s hand a squeeze before letting go, “Hey, I don’t have anyone either. And we’re awesome anyway, we don’t need anyone to tell us that.”
Quinn raises one perfect eyebrow at her, “Are you hitting on me again?”
Santana’s eyes widen, “What? No I...”
“Cuz I’m pretty sure Brittany would be jealous,” Quinn adds as she takes another sip of coffee.
Santana struggles to find the words and eventually she settles on, “Brittany and I aren’t together,” which somehow says too much and not enough all at once.
Quinn smirks again, “Yet.” Santana looks away, embarrassed, and Quinn reaches for her hand to pull her back. “Hey,” she holds onto Santana’s hand tightly, keeping her there, “I’m happy for you guys, really.”
Santana looks down at their hands and then back up, takes a deep breath and blurts out, “You know I’m gay, right?”
Quinn just laughs, but doesn’t let go of her hand, “I don’t care what you are, Santana, for better or worse, you’re my friend, and I love you.”
Santana tries to keep her breathing even, but she can feel the tears prickling at the corners of her eyes. They were never particularly good at saying exactly what they meant to each other, but Santana meets Quinn’s eyes and remembers all the times she’d wished for someone besides Brittany to talk to, “I missed you this year.”
Quinn nods and smiles sadly, “Me too.”
Santana sniffs and looks away. She’s just wiping at her eyes when she hears Brittany’s voice behind her. “San!” Strong arms slide around her shoulders, and Brittany presses her face into Santana’s neck happily.
Quinn smiles at them, and Santana smiles shyly back as Brittany lets go and sidesteps to stand between them. “Hi Quinn!”
She has Kurt and Blaine with her, and Kurt pulls a chair over while Blaine goes to get them drinks. Brittany asks Quinn if she wants another coffee, and when Santana starts to climb to her feet to get a refill, Brittany pushes her back down and says she’ll get it.
When she’s gone over to join Blaine, Kurt leans over to Santana conspiratorially and grins, “She knows your coffee order.”
Santana rolls her eyes, “She’s my best friend, of course she knows what coffee I like.”
Kurt smiles down at his hands, and glances over at Blaine with a knowing look on his face.
Santana huffs, irritated, and scowls into her empty coffee cup. After a moment, Brittany dances over with their drinks and sits down next to her, pressing her foot against Santana’s under the table, and suddenly Santana doesn’t care that Kurt and Blaine are exchanging meaningful looks and casting tiny glances their way.
They spend their nights watching movies they’ve seen a hundred times, but Santana is always careful to make an excuse as to why she can’t stay over. Brittany always acts disappointed and tries to convince her to change her mind, but Santana doesn’t think she’d be able to face a night in bed with Brittany.
It’s somewhere around the time the unpopular girl shows up to school after the makeover in the crappy high school movie they’re watching that Brittany shifts closer and pulls Santana’s legs into her lap. Santana shivers as Brittany runs her hands over her bare legs, and she wishes briefly that the day had been cooler and she hadn’t been wearing such a short skirt. Santana completely loses track of the movie, and concentrates on Brittany’s hands; the swirl of her fingers round her knees and then down her shins and back up again, over and over. It’s beyond distracting, but Brittany doesn’t seem to notice. She’s still watching the movie and seemingly unaware of the effect she’s having.
Santana gives in to the feel of Brittany’s hands on her legs and closes her eyes, sinking her head back into the couch cushion and exhaling slowly. She concentrates on breathing, and clenches the hand furthest away from Brittany over and over again, as though the feelings might run down her arm and out her hand if only she could clench hard enough. It doesn’t really work though, and the next thing she knows the television is showing nothing but static and Brittany is pulling her down the hall to her bedroom.
“I should - I should go home.” She stumbles a little as Brittany pulls at her hand, and she shakes her head to try and clear it.
“It’s too late to go home. It’s too dangerous where you live,” Brittany tugs again, and they’re nearly at the bedroom door.
Santana takes another step and swallows, “Britt, you know I don’t really live in the crappy part of town.”
Brittany glances at her sideways, “You don’t? Oh.”
And then Santana isn’t sure how it happens but they’re the inside Brittany’s room, and the door is shut firmly behind her. They stand awkwardly for a moment, and Brittany still has a grip on Santana’s hand, as though she’s afraid she might try to run for it.
It’s Brittany who breaks the silence first, “Your pjs are still here, you know. I think my mom washed them, though.”
She has and they smell just like Brittany, which just makes everything worse. Santana takes the shorts and shirt that Brittany offers her, and then turns her back to change into them quickly. When she’s done she takes a breath and turns, wondering when she became so painfully aware of every inch between them and the awkwardness she feels.
Brittany’s wearing a tank top and shorts that somehow manage to show off more skin than they cover, and Santana wonders briefly if it’s possible to die from sexual frustration, and if Brittany is trying to kill her. She knows she’s staring, but she just can’t stop. She swallows hard, and takes a step closer.
Brittany pulls the covers back and sits on the edge of the bed, pulling her legs up and tucking them under the duvet. She pats the space beside her impatiently, “Come on.”
Santana steels herself and crosses the room in three quick steps. She sinks down next to Brittany, then lies on her back awkwardly, and suddenly has no idea what to do with her arms. In the past they’d always be wrapped round Brittany, or one would be under Brittany’s head, and she realises that she legitimately had no idea how to sleep in the same space as Brittany without touching her.
Brittany rolls onto her side to look at her, and after a moment of Santana staring unblinkingly at the ceiling, Brittany exhales noisily and rolls over, her back to Santana. She reaches over to turn off the lamp without another word. They stay like that in silence, before Santana realises that she’s concentrating so hard on keeping a distance between them that there’s no way she’s ever going to fall asleep.
This is ridiculous, she thinks. She rolls onto her side and presses against Brittany’s back, one arm sliding around Brittany’s stomach, holding her close. She folds her other arm under her own head, and after a moment Brittany reaches up to tug Santana’s hand under her neck and forward, until it rests over Brittany’s heart. Brittany tangles their fingers together, and hums happily as she falls asleep.
Finn somehow convinces Rachel to throw another party while her Dads are away, and she, Brittany and Quinn go together complaining loudly about how lame it’ll probably be. Puck has managed to get alcohol from somewhere, again, and pretty soon all their friends are laughing and dancing and a little bit buzzed. Brittany goes off to dance with Mike and Tina, and Quinn and Santana sit together on a couch, far enough away from Sam and Mercedes to not get in the way of the make out session that’s quickly developing.
Quinn sips at a beer in an absentminded kind of way, and Santana drinks her diet coke slowly and watches the way Brittany moves. They used to come to parties together when they were cheerleaders, and still had images to maintain. Even then, Brittany and Santana would end up locking themselves in a bathroom or bedroom and make out until they forgot they were supposed to be with the boys downstairs. Quinn had always frowned at them, then, when they’d reappeared at the end of the night with loose hair and hastily reapplied make up, and looked around in vain for the boys they’d been with.
Quinn leans over and bumps Santana with her shoulder, interrupting her thoughts. “Go and dance with her.”
Santana shakes her head, “Maybe later.”
Quinn sighs, “What are you so afraid of?”
Santana tries to answer, but she realises that she’s not sure anymore. Not here, anyway, where there’s no one to point and laugh or say horrible things. She just doesn’t want to fuck things up any more, and if that means she has to wait a little longer she can deal with that.
The song they’ve been dancing to finishes, and Rachel is reaching for a microphone and shouting about having an impromptu Broadway sing-a-long, and everyone flops onto couches and chairs dotted around the room. Brittany comes over to Quinn and Santana, and sits down on Santana’s lap, “Hey,” she whispers quietly as she slides an arm around Santana’s shoulders and leans into her neck. She eyes skip over to Quinn and she kicks her legs up into Quinn’s lap with a grin, “Hey.”
Quinn smiles back and plays with the laces on Brittany’s shoes. It’s just like old times, and when Quinn lays her head on Santana’s shoulder on one side, and Brittany cuddles closer on the other, Santana feels happier than she has in a long time, even if Rachel is singing something from Les Mis at the top of her lungs.
Brittany plays with the little hairs at the nape of Santana’s neck while they listen to everyone sing, and Santana feels like she’s an instrument that Brittany is playing, finely-tuned and quivering under her touch. She has one arm around Brittany’s lower back, holding tight to her hipbone and pulling her closer, and her other is hooked through Quinn’s, resting on Brittany’s thigh, playing with the hem of her skirt.
When Kurt, Blaine and Rachel start singing a very enthusiastic version of Ladies Who Lunch, Brittany shifts in her lap, and Santana realises the other girl had been nodding off. She leans into Brittany’s ear and whispers, “You wanna go home?”
Brittany nods sleepily, “I have to pee first though.” She uncurls and comes to her feet gracefully, and stretches one arm out in front of her, working out a kink before she disappears.
Santana straightens, feeling the muscles tighten in her back, and turns to look at Quinn. “Do you want a ride home?”
Quinn nods, “I have a feeling they’re going to go on for a while,” she says gesturing to the stage at the opposite end of the room. Santana climbs to her feet with Quinn by her side, and they whisper goodbyes to everyone around them as they sneak towards the door. They’re halfway there when Brittany joins them and slides her hand into Santana’s, and Santana feels something warm in the pit of her stomach. Brittany climbs into the back seat so Quinn takes the front, and they drive in silence until they reach Quinn’s house. The engine idles, and Brittany leans forward to wrap an arm around both of them and pull them into a three way hug. After a moment she lets go of Quinn but keeps her arm around Santana, “Night, Quinn.”
Quinn smiles one of her rare sincere smiles and reaches for the door, “Night, guys.”
The door closes behind her, and they watch until she’s safely in her house. Brittany still has one arm around Santana’s neck, and Santana reaches up to pry her off gently, “I can’t drive if you do that, Britt.”
“Ok,” Brittany climbs through the gap in the seats to get into the passenger seat, and nearly kicks Santana in the process. Santana laughs in spite of herself, and they share a grin as Brittany pulls the seatbelt around her. “Where are we going?”
Santana hears the unasked question behind Brittany’s words and looks away, “I’m going to take you to your house, and then I’m going to go home.”
Brittany huffs, “You’re not staying over.” It’s more of a statement than a question so Santana doesn’t reply. She puts the car in drive and covers the streets between Brittany and Quinn’s houses quickly.
She kills the engine when she pulls into Brittany’s drive, and something forces her out of the car and round to the passenger side. She pulls open Brittany’s door for her and offers her a hand. She’s not entirely sure when she became a fifteen year old high school boy, and she thinks it’d be a bit pathetic if anyone was there to see them, but they’re not so she holds Brittany’s hand and walks her to her door.
Brittany turns to face her when they reach the porch, reaches for her other hand and tangles their fingers together tightly. “Stay over.”
She pulls Santana closer by her hands, and Santana takes one step and then plants her feet, silently refusing to go any further. “I’ll see you tomorrow. Ok?”
Brittany pouts and nods once, “Ok.” She lets go of one of Santana’s hand and Santana half turns before Brittany tugs back on her other one and they fall into one of their super tight hugs that stretch on longer than they should. Santana presses her face into Brittany’s neck and breathes in the scent of her shampoo.
After the longest time they step apart and Brittany watches her all the way back to the car before opening her door and stepping inside.
In her car, Santana grips the steering wheel so hard her knuckles turn white.
They go out to Breadsticks the week before school starts again. Santana picks Brittany up, and when Brittany opens the door she realises with a start that they’ve both dressed up as though this was something more than a dinner between friends. Brittany smiles at her and takes her arm as they head for the car, and Santana opens the door for her again without really thinking about it. She wonders absently if this means she’s butch now, and pushes the thought away. She’s just Santana, she thinks, which is probably what Brittany was trying to get her to realise before the summer started.
They slide into opposite sides of a booth and sneak glances at each other over the top of their menus, and yeah, Santana realises, this is totally a date. She doesn’t know when things changed between them, but Brittany’s feet are pressed either side of hers under the table and she doesn’t really care.
They split a piece of chocolate cake, and after Brittany shyly pulls out her purse and says she’ll pay with the money her parents gave her for looking after her little sister all summer. Santana smiles across the table at her and nods, and they leave the waitress a big tip when they go.
Brittany holds Santana’s hand all the way home, and when they get to Brittany’s Santana walks Brittany to her door again. This time Santana is the first to move closer, and she rests her hands on Brittany’s hips and pulls her closer. Brittany’s hands come up to tangle in Santana’s hair and they stay like that, enjoying the closeness.
“Thanks for dinner.”
“Sure,” Brittany nods against her forehead. The silence stretches for a moment before Brittany adds, “Are you going to kiss me now?” She pouts a little, “I’ve been waiting all summer.”
Santana smiles into Brittany’s mouth and she whispers, “Yes,” a second before their lips meet. She’s wanted to do this for so long, she’s half convinced this might be dream, but then Brittany’s hands cup the side of her face and pull her closer, and she suddenly doesn’t care if this is a dream or not. They kiss for what feels like forever; it’s tentative at first and then deeper and full of meaning. Santana feels Brittany’s tongue against her lips and sucks it into her mouth greedily, and for a second she forgets where she ends and Brittany begins.
When they break apart they’re both gasping hard, and Brittany searches for Santana’s eyes, “Stay over?” She pulls at Santana’s hips and Santana lets herself be pulled inside. They go up to Brittany’s room and as soon as the door shuts behind them, Brittany has Santana backed up against it and kisses her hard, hands tangling in her hair. Santana slides her hands down Brittany’s side and Brittany giggles into her mouth, and somehow manages to press herself even closer against Santana.
Santana breaks the kiss to pull at the bottom of Brittany’s shirt and she leans down to trail kisses up her stomach and over her bra as she pulls the shirt up and over Brittany’s head. She pushes back from the door, and walks Brittany backwards until they find the bed and Brittany sits down, kicking her shoes off as she hits the bed. Santana kneels and tugs at Brittany’s hips until they lift and she can pull her skirt off, then she reaches for Brittany again and straddles her hips, savouring the feel of bare skin under her hands.
Brittany refuses to let Santana push her down, and her hands skim Santana’s thighs lightly under her dress. “I don’t think this is very fair,” Brittany murmurs, and slides her hands a little higher.
“Oh I think it is,” Santana reaches for the clasp on Brittany’s bra but Brittany bats her hands away.
“Nuh-uh,” Brittany hooks her thumbs around the bottom of Santana’s dress and slides her hands up, pulling the dress with her as she goes. “That’s better,” she grins once the dress is on the floor and kisses her way from Santana’s lips to her neck and breasts and back again, before reaching round and undoing Santana’s bra and letting it fall to the floor.
And then Brittany lets Santana pull her bra off and push her back onto the bed, and Santana trails kisses down her body before settling between her legs and pulling her underwear off and pressing her tongue to where Brittany needs it most. Brittany’s eyes drift shut and she runs her hand lazily through Santana’s hair, gripping hard every now and then as her hips buck up to meet Santana’s mouth and gain extra friction.
Brittany bites her hand to try and stifle the noises she’s making, but Santana hears them all anyway. Brittany comes undone with a shout that sounds a lot like Santana’s name, her fingers tightening in dark hair involuntarily. Santana presses one more kiss between Brittany’s legs and then lays her head on Brittany’s thigh, looking up to find blue eyes staring down at her. Brittany shifts her weight, and reaches down to pull Santana up, and somehow Brittany ends up on top of her, her hips pressing into Santana’s in a way that’s almost but not quite what Santana needs.
“Brittany...” she whispers, and it’s a little needy but Brittany doesn’t seem to mind. She closes the distance between them and kisses Santana deeply, and Santana arches up into Brittany’s touch. Brittany’s hand slides between them and finds the wetness between Santana’s legs, and Santana gasps as Brittany slips into an easy rhythm. Her fingers dig into Brittany’s back as she feels the pressure building within her, and she presses her face into Brittany’s neck and gasps again as Brittany’s fingers push inside her. Brittany kisses her again, and bucks her hips against Santana in time with her thrusts and pretty soon, Santana slips over the edge, grabbing Brittany’s back and trying to hold on.
She opens her eyes after and finds Brittany watching her. She giggles and hums happily, reaching up to tuck a strand of Santana’s hair behind her ear. Santana smiles and pulls her closer, “I love you.”
Brittany tucks herself into Santana’s side and presses a kiss to the side of her mouth, “I know.”
They fall asleep wrapped round each other, and Santana comes awake in the morning surrounded by blond hair, safe in Brittany’s arms.
Finn and Kurt throw a party the weekend before school starts, and Brittany and Santana walk in holding hands, bumping shoulders and giggling at their own jokes. They dance together, and when Brittany goes to the bathroom, Quinn raises her eyebrows at Santana inquisitively from across the room, and then grins when Santana glances down and nods with a smile on her face.
A little later, Mike asks if Santana is going to start coming to the semi regular dance movie nights he, Tina and Brittany hold every few weeks, and Santana nods quickly, her eyes shining.
Tina brushes her arm as she dances past, “You better start practicing your dance moves!”
Santana smirks and pulls Brittany closer, “I’ve got the best teacher.”
Brittany grins and leans in to press her forehead to Santana’s before spinning away to do some crazy swing dancing with Mike.
They’re still Brittany and Santana, and though she catches their friends grinning at them from time to time, nothing’s really changed. So when Santana wants to kiss Brittany, she does, pulling her to her and kissing her until she remembers they’re in a room full of people and should probably stop soon. When they pull apart, everything’s exactly how it was except they’re both a little flushed, and Brittany wraps her arms around Santana and moves them to the beat of the song blaring from the stereo. They dance over to Quinn and she wraps her arms around them and laughs, and then Tina and Mercedes join in and Santana knows it’s just about the biggest cliché in the world, but she feels safe, and she leans into Brittany and kisses her quickly before pulling back and dancing with her friends.
Pairing: Brittany/Santana with sides of Quinntana friendship, Unholy Trinity friendship, other canon pairings.
Rating: NC-17
Summary: It’s the longest summer of Santana’s life, and every time she wants to kiss Brittany she hugs her instead.
Word Count: 5,300.
Spoilers: Up to 2.22 “New York”
They haven’t really made summer plans and without Cheer camp their summer has lost any kind of structure, so Santana doesn’t bother setting an alarm for her first morning of freedom. Brittany evidently has; Santana wakes with a surprised shout as Brittany bounds through her door and falls onto the bed next to her. Santana feels like someone has thrown a bucket of cold water over her; Brittany’s presence is always intoxicating but she isn’t ready to face it without a moment to prepare herself.
Brittany leans closer with a happy smile on her face, “Hey!”
Santana groans and tries to pull the covers over her head. After a moment, Brittany tugs them out of her hand impatiently. “Wake up sleepyhead!”
Brittany leans closer, and Santana’s sleepy brain fixes her eyes on Brittany’s lips like they’re the only thing in the world. Santana bites her lip, and leans up to pull Brittany down into a hug instead. Brittany laughs and tries to wriggle out of the embrace, and Santana feels the laughter bubbling up in her own throat. She rolls and pulls Brittany with her, so she comes up on top of her best friend, one knee either side of Brittany’s hips, and she presses Brittany’s hands down into the mattress with her own. They stay like that for a moment, eyes locked, unblinking. Brittany’s hair is tousled on the pillow in the most adorable way, and there’s a faint blush on her cheeks. She sucks in a deep breath and looks like she’s about to say something, and then Santana remembers they shouldn’t do this right now and slides her hands out of Brittany’s and looks away. Brittany pushes herself up off the bed and sits up, invading Santana’s personal space and resting her hands lightly on Santana’s hips like they belong there.
Santana swallows hard, Maybe this is going to be harder than I thought.
She climbs off Brittany reluctantly, and falls onto her back on the bed. Brittany scoots a little bit closer and bumps their elbows together. “Wanna go get coffee?”
Santana exhales slowly and forces a smile onto her face, “Sure.”
Santana has no idea where Brittany keeps getting her hats from. She’s pretty sure she’s never seen Brittany buy a hat when they’ve been shopping, but day after day Brittany has some new, totally adorable hat on her head, and it’s all Santana can do to keep herself from throwing herself at the blond. She’s always thought Brittany has the ability to look amazing in anything, but there’s something about the way Brittany shows up each morning with a spring in her step, canting her head to the side to better display her new headwear, one hand coming up to adjust her hair, that completely undoes Santana. It’s just a hat, for god’s sake. A fucking hat. When did she get so pathetic?
They’re bowling with Tina, Mike, Sam, Mercedes, Kurt and Blaine when the hat thing gets to be a problem. Tina had invited them along, and when they’d shown up it got to be pretty obvious that this was supposed to be a happy group date thing. Which ok, so everyone knows, but they haven’t said anything, and they’re not even dating, so she’s not sure where their friends are getting their information from. Still, it’s nice in a way that Santana can’t really place, and everyone smiles at them, and Brittany sits way closer than she needs to on the bench next to her, and she feels included in something for the first time in a long time.
Brittany’s never been much good at bowling. Sam gives her tips, and on her fourth turn she manages to knock over half the pins instead of rolling the ball into the gutter. Brittany jumps up and down happily, spinning into a couple of dance steps in time with whatever awful music is currently crackling out of the PA.
She spins again and bounces over to Santana, flushed with success. “I knocked something over!” She’s wearing that fluffy deerstalker hat that she loves so much, and it’s slid round to a jaunty angle in all the jumping around.
Santana grins back at her, “You were awesome.” She watches as Brittany reaches up to adjust her hat and feels a lurch in the pit of her stomach. She’s moving before she realises it, and her hands come up to tangle in the strings of Brittany’s hat. She wraps them around her fingers once, and uses them to pull Brittany closer. Brittany rests her hands on the back of the bench behind Santana to keep her balance as Santana continues to tug insistently on the strings. Brittany bites her lip and her eyes flicker down to Santana’s lips and then back up to her eyes, and all Santana can see is Brittany in her hat coming closer, and all she can feel is desire low in her belly.
She remembers the taking it slow thing when they’re close enough to breathe the same air, and with considerable effort, shifts her head to the side and onto Brittany’s shoulder instead. She lets go of the strings and wraps her arms around Brittany tightly.
When they pull apart she’s pretty sure she hears Mercedes whisper something to Tina about how cute they are, and everyone else is exchanging sneaky smiles, so she stands up quickly and reaches for a bowling ball. “Now I’ma show you how we do it in Lima Heights!”
By luck rather than skill, she manages to get a strike and Brittany jumps to her feet and cheers loudly as Santana grins and spreads her hands, inviting the others to try and beat her.
When she goes over to sit next to Brittany, Brittany wraps an arm around her shoulder and leans over to Tina who’s up next, “That’s my girl, and she’s kicking your ass.”
When Tina’s stepped away, Santana leans in to Brittany’s ear and whispers, “’My girl?’”
Brittany turns to smile at her, “You’ll always be my girl, Santana.”
Santana couldn’t argue with that.
This whole thing would be a lot easier if Brittany wasn’t so damned handsy all the time. Well, ok, maybe she was a little handsy too. God knows she wanted to touch Brittany pretty much all of the time, but there’d been distance between them lately and that was easier to deal with than the constant touching that never lead where Santana wanted it to. And it wasn’t just a sex thing, though yeah, she missed it. She just wanted to be closer to Brittany, in all the ways that they used to be, before all the words came between them and disrupted their easy intimacy.
Still, it’s some kind of torture to have Brittany lying so close to her in a bikini and nothing else. Brittany props herself up on an elbow occasionally to check that her little sister is still ok - they’re supposed to be babysitting after all, not sunbathing - before sinking back down next to Santana in the grass. She reaches for Santana’s head and laces her fingers through Santana’s loosely, and one of her feet rests comfortably against Santana’s.
Santana can feel the heat of Brittany next to her, in a way that has nothing to do with the impossibly sunny day they’re currently enjoying, and she tries in vain to keep her eyes from raking up and down Brittany’s body which is almost impossible with the way she looks in that bikini. Brittany shifts her head round to look at Santana, and she blushes when Santana quickly looks away, embarrassed to be caught checking her out.
“Sorry,” Santana mutters, she looks back but still can’t bring herself to meet Brittany’s eyes. Brittany offers her a little shrug, and there’s a smile dancing around the corners of her mouth.
Brittany catches Santana’s gaze, and rolls over onto her side with a fine disregard for even tanning. She brings her fingers up to trace the side of Santana’s face gently, “It’s ok,” she whispers, and suddenly the moment has turned a lot more serious. Brittany strokes the pads of her fingers against Santana’s cheekbone lightly, in a way that Santana has always loved, and Santana’s hand moves to rest on Brittany’s hipbone as she shifts her weight and rolls to face the other girl.
Brittany’s hand moves to the nape of Santana’s neck and presses forward, urging Santana closer. Santana feels a shiver run through her and part of her thinks finally.
Santana is still an inch away when they’re interrupted by a fit of giggles from nearby.
“Brittany and Santana sitting in a tree! K-I-S-S-I-N-G!”
Brittany closes her eyes for a second and then smiles ruefully and pulls away, climbing to her feet in one fluid movement and reaching for her little sister. Santana watches as Brittany grabs her and spins her round asking if anyone ever told her it was rude to spy on people. Her sister continues to giggle, and despite the disappointment Santana feels, she smiles as they chase each other round Brittany’s backyard.
After a moment, she flops back down onto her back and sighs, closing her eyes and imagining the feel of Brittany’s lips on hers.
On one rare morning apart from Brittany, Santana gets coffee with Quinn, and she’s missed this a little more than she’d ever admit. They talk about Sam and Mercedes, and how no one saw that coming, before Quinn gets a little misty eyed and says, “Maybe I’ll meet someone soon,” in a way that’s probably supposed to sound flippant but doesn’t at all.
Santana shrugs, and reaches across the table to give Quinn’s hand a squeeze before letting go, “Hey, I don’t have anyone either. And we’re awesome anyway, we don’t need anyone to tell us that.”
Quinn raises one perfect eyebrow at her, “Are you hitting on me again?”
Santana’s eyes widen, “What? No I...”
“Cuz I’m pretty sure Brittany would be jealous,” Quinn adds as she takes another sip of coffee.
Santana struggles to find the words and eventually she settles on, “Brittany and I aren’t together,” which somehow says too much and not enough all at once.
Quinn smirks again, “Yet.” Santana looks away, embarrassed, and Quinn reaches for her hand to pull her back. “Hey,” she holds onto Santana’s hand tightly, keeping her there, “I’m happy for you guys, really.”
Santana looks down at their hands and then back up, takes a deep breath and blurts out, “You know I’m gay, right?”
Quinn just laughs, but doesn’t let go of her hand, “I don’t care what you are, Santana, for better or worse, you’re my friend, and I love you.”
Santana tries to keep her breathing even, but she can feel the tears prickling at the corners of her eyes. They were never particularly good at saying exactly what they meant to each other, but Santana meets Quinn’s eyes and remembers all the times she’d wished for someone besides Brittany to talk to, “I missed you this year.”
Quinn nods and smiles sadly, “Me too.”
Santana sniffs and looks away. She’s just wiping at her eyes when she hears Brittany’s voice behind her. “San!” Strong arms slide around her shoulders, and Brittany presses her face into Santana’s neck happily.
Quinn smiles at them, and Santana smiles shyly back as Brittany lets go and sidesteps to stand between them. “Hi Quinn!”
She has Kurt and Blaine with her, and Kurt pulls a chair over while Blaine goes to get them drinks. Brittany asks Quinn if she wants another coffee, and when Santana starts to climb to her feet to get a refill, Brittany pushes her back down and says she’ll get it.
When she’s gone over to join Blaine, Kurt leans over to Santana conspiratorially and grins, “She knows your coffee order.”
Santana rolls her eyes, “She’s my best friend, of course she knows what coffee I like.”
Kurt smiles down at his hands, and glances over at Blaine with a knowing look on his face.
Santana huffs, irritated, and scowls into her empty coffee cup. After a moment, Brittany dances over with their drinks and sits down next to her, pressing her foot against Santana’s under the table, and suddenly Santana doesn’t care that Kurt and Blaine are exchanging meaningful looks and casting tiny glances their way.
They spend their nights watching movies they’ve seen a hundred times, but Santana is always careful to make an excuse as to why she can’t stay over. Brittany always acts disappointed and tries to convince her to change her mind, but Santana doesn’t think she’d be able to face a night in bed with Brittany.
It’s somewhere around the time the unpopular girl shows up to school after the makeover in the crappy high school movie they’re watching that Brittany shifts closer and pulls Santana’s legs into her lap. Santana shivers as Brittany runs her hands over her bare legs, and she wishes briefly that the day had been cooler and she hadn’t been wearing such a short skirt. Santana completely loses track of the movie, and concentrates on Brittany’s hands; the swirl of her fingers round her knees and then down her shins and back up again, over and over. It’s beyond distracting, but Brittany doesn’t seem to notice. She’s still watching the movie and seemingly unaware of the effect she’s having.
Santana gives in to the feel of Brittany’s hands on her legs and closes her eyes, sinking her head back into the couch cushion and exhaling slowly. She concentrates on breathing, and clenches the hand furthest away from Brittany over and over again, as though the feelings might run down her arm and out her hand if only she could clench hard enough. It doesn’t really work though, and the next thing she knows the television is showing nothing but static and Brittany is pulling her down the hall to her bedroom.
“I should - I should go home.” She stumbles a little as Brittany pulls at her hand, and she shakes her head to try and clear it.
“It’s too late to go home. It’s too dangerous where you live,” Brittany tugs again, and they’re nearly at the bedroom door.
Santana takes another step and swallows, “Britt, you know I don’t really live in the crappy part of town.”
Brittany glances at her sideways, “You don’t? Oh.”
And then Santana isn’t sure how it happens but they’re the inside Brittany’s room, and the door is shut firmly behind her. They stand awkwardly for a moment, and Brittany still has a grip on Santana’s hand, as though she’s afraid she might try to run for it.
It’s Brittany who breaks the silence first, “Your pjs are still here, you know. I think my mom washed them, though.”
She has and they smell just like Brittany, which just makes everything worse. Santana takes the shorts and shirt that Brittany offers her, and then turns her back to change into them quickly. When she’s done she takes a breath and turns, wondering when she became so painfully aware of every inch between them and the awkwardness she feels.
Brittany’s wearing a tank top and shorts that somehow manage to show off more skin than they cover, and Santana wonders briefly if it’s possible to die from sexual frustration, and if Brittany is trying to kill her. She knows she’s staring, but she just can’t stop. She swallows hard, and takes a step closer.
Brittany pulls the covers back and sits on the edge of the bed, pulling her legs up and tucking them under the duvet. She pats the space beside her impatiently, “Come on.”
Santana steels herself and crosses the room in three quick steps. She sinks down next to Brittany, then lies on her back awkwardly, and suddenly has no idea what to do with her arms. In the past they’d always be wrapped round Brittany, or one would be under Brittany’s head, and she realises that she legitimately had no idea how to sleep in the same space as Brittany without touching her.
Brittany rolls onto her side to look at her, and after a moment of Santana staring unblinkingly at the ceiling, Brittany exhales noisily and rolls over, her back to Santana. She reaches over to turn off the lamp without another word. They stay like that in silence, before Santana realises that she’s concentrating so hard on keeping a distance between them that there’s no way she’s ever going to fall asleep.
This is ridiculous, she thinks. She rolls onto her side and presses against Brittany’s back, one arm sliding around Brittany’s stomach, holding her close. She folds her other arm under her own head, and after a moment Brittany reaches up to tug Santana’s hand under her neck and forward, until it rests over Brittany’s heart. Brittany tangles their fingers together, and hums happily as she falls asleep.
Finn somehow convinces Rachel to throw another party while her Dads are away, and she, Brittany and Quinn go together complaining loudly about how lame it’ll probably be. Puck has managed to get alcohol from somewhere, again, and pretty soon all their friends are laughing and dancing and a little bit buzzed. Brittany goes off to dance with Mike and Tina, and Quinn and Santana sit together on a couch, far enough away from Sam and Mercedes to not get in the way of the make out session that’s quickly developing.
Quinn sips at a beer in an absentminded kind of way, and Santana drinks her diet coke slowly and watches the way Brittany moves. They used to come to parties together when they were cheerleaders, and still had images to maintain. Even then, Brittany and Santana would end up locking themselves in a bathroom or bedroom and make out until they forgot they were supposed to be with the boys downstairs. Quinn had always frowned at them, then, when they’d reappeared at the end of the night with loose hair and hastily reapplied make up, and looked around in vain for the boys they’d been with.
Quinn leans over and bumps Santana with her shoulder, interrupting her thoughts. “Go and dance with her.”
Santana shakes her head, “Maybe later.”
Quinn sighs, “What are you so afraid of?”
Santana tries to answer, but she realises that she’s not sure anymore. Not here, anyway, where there’s no one to point and laugh or say horrible things. She just doesn’t want to fuck things up any more, and if that means she has to wait a little longer she can deal with that.
The song they’ve been dancing to finishes, and Rachel is reaching for a microphone and shouting about having an impromptu Broadway sing-a-long, and everyone flops onto couches and chairs dotted around the room. Brittany comes over to Quinn and Santana, and sits down on Santana’s lap, “Hey,” she whispers quietly as she slides an arm around Santana’s shoulders and leans into her neck. She eyes skip over to Quinn and she kicks her legs up into Quinn’s lap with a grin, “Hey.”
Quinn smiles back and plays with the laces on Brittany’s shoes. It’s just like old times, and when Quinn lays her head on Santana’s shoulder on one side, and Brittany cuddles closer on the other, Santana feels happier than she has in a long time, even if Rachel is singing something from Les Mis at the top of her lungs.
Brittany plays with the little hairs at the nape of Santana’s neck while they listen to everyone sing, and Santana feels like she’s an instrument that Brittany is playing, finely-tuned and quivering under her touch. She has one arm around Brittany’s lower back, holding tight to her hipbone and pulling her closer, and her other is hooked through Quinn’s, resting on Brittany’s thigh, playing with the hem of her skirt.
When Kurt, Blaine and Rachel start singing a very enthusiastic version of Ladies Who Lunch, Brittany shifts in her lap, and Santana realises the other girl had been nodding off. She leans into Brittany’s ear and whispers, “You wanna go home?”
Brittany nods sleepily, “I have to pee first though.” She uncurls and comes to her feet gracefully, and stretches one arm out in front of her, working out a kink before she disappears.
Santana straightens, feeling the muscles tighten in her back, and turns to look at Quinn. “Do you want a ride home?”
Quinn nods, “I have a feeling they’re going to go on for a while,” she says gesturing to the stage at the opposite end of the room. Santana climbs to her feet with Quinn by her side, and they whisper goodbyes to everyone around them as they sneak towards the door. They’re halfway there when Brittany joins them and slides her hand into Santana’s, and Santana feels something warm in the pit of her stomach. Brittany climbs into the back seat so Quinn takes the front, and they drive in silence until they reach Quinn’s house. The engine idles, and Brittany leans forward to wrap an arm around both of them and pull them into a three way hug. After a moment she lets go of Quinn but keeps her arm around Santana, “Night, Quinn.”
Quinn smiles one of her rare sincere smiles and reaches for the door, “Night, guys.”
The door closes behind her, and they watch until she’s safely in her house. Brittany still has one arm around Santana’s neck, and Santana reaches up to pry her off gently, “I can’t drive if you do that, Britt.”
“Ok,” Brittany climbs through the gap in the seats to get into the passenger seat, and nearly kicks Santana in the process. Santana laughs in spite of herself, and they share a grin as Brittany pulls the seatbelt around her. “Where are we going?”
Santana hears the unasked question behind Brittany’s words and looks away, “I’m going to take you to your house, and then I’m going to go home.”
Brittany huffs, “You’re not staying over.” It’s more of a statement than a question so Santana doesn’t reply. She puts the car in drive and covers the streets between Brittany and Quinn’s houses quickly.
She kills the engine when she pulls into Brittany’s drive, and something forces her out of the car and round to the passenger side. She pulls open Brittany’s door for her and offers her a hand. She’s not entirely sure when she became a fifteen year old high school boy, and she thinks it’d be a bit pathetic if anyone was there to see them, but they’re not so she holds Brittany’s hand and walks her to her door.
Brittany turns to face her when they reach the porch, reaches for her other hand and tangles their fingers together tightly. “Stay over.”
She pulls Santana closer by her hands, and Santana takes one step and then plants her feet, silently refusing to go any further. “I’ll see you tomorrow. Ok?”
Brittany pouts and nods once, “Ok.” She lets go of one of Santana’s hand and Santana half turns before Brittany tugs back on her other one and they fall into one of their super tight hugs that stretch on longer than they should. Santana presses her face into Brittany’s neck and breathes in the scent of her shampoo.
After the longest time they step apart and Brittany watches her all the way back to the car before opening her door and stepping inside.
In her car, Santana grips the steering wheel so hard her knuckles turn white.
They go out to Breadsticks the week before school starts again. Santana picks Brittany up, and when Brittany opens the door she realises with a start that they’ve both dressed up as though this was something more than a dinner between friends. Brittany smiles at her and takes her arm as they head for the car, and Santana opens the door for her again without really thinking about it. She wonders absently if this means she’s butch now, and pushes the thought away. She’s just Santana, she thinks, which is probably what Brittany was trying to get her to realise before the summer started.
They slide into opposite sides of a booth and sneak glances at each other over the top of their menus, and yeah, Santana realises, this is totally a date. She doesn’t know when things changed between them, but Brittany’s feet are pressed either side of hers under the table and she doesn’t really care.
They split a piece of chocolate cake, and after Brittany shyly pulls out her purse and says she’ll pay with the money her parents gave her for looking after her little sister all summer. Santana smiles across the table at her and nods, and they leave the waitress a big tip when they go.
Brittany holds Santana’s hand all the way home, and when they get to Brittany’s Santana walks Brittany to her door again. This time Santana is the first to move closer, and she rests her hands on Brittany’s hips and pulls her closer. Brittany’s hands come up to tangle in Santana’s hair and they stay like that, enjoying the closeness.
“Thanks for dinner.”
“Sure,” Brittany nods against her forehead. The silence stretches for a moment before Brittany adds, “Are you going to kiss me now?” She pouts a little, “I’ve been waiting all summer.”
Santana smiles into Brittany’s mouth and she whispers, “Yes,” a second before their lips meet. She’s wanted to do this for so long, she’s half convinced this might be dream, but then Brittany’s hands cup the side of her face and pull her closer, and she suddenly doesn’t care if this is a dream or not. They kiss for what feels like forever; it’s tentative at first and then deeper and full of meaning. Santana feels Brittany’s tongue against her lips and sucks it into her mouth greedily, and for a second she forgets where she ends and Brittany begins.
When they break apart they’re both gasping hard, and Brittany searches for Santana’s eyes, “Stay over?” She pulls at Santana’s hips and Santana lets herself be pulled inside. They go up to Brittany’s room and as soon as the door shuts behind them, Brittany has Santana backed up against it and kisses her hard, hands tangling in her hair. Santana slides her hands down Brittany’s side and Brittany giggles into her mouth, and somehow manages to press herself even closer against Santana.
Santana breaks the kiss to pull at the bottom of Brittany’s shirt and she leans down to trail kisses up her stomach and over her bra as she pulls the shirt up and over Brittany’s head. She pushes back from the door, and walks Brittany backwards until they find the bed and Brittany sits down, kicking her shoes off as she hits the bed. Santana kneels and tugs at Brittany’s hips until they lift and she can pull her skirt off, then she reaches for Brittany again and straddles her hips, savouring the feel of bare skin under her hands.
Brittany refuses to let Santana push her down, and her hands skim Santana’s thighs lightly under her dress. “I don’t think this is very fair,” Brittany murmurs, and slides her hands a little higher.
“Oh I think it is,” Santana reaches for the clasp on Brittany’s bra but Brittany bats her hands away.
“Nuh-uh,” Brittany hooks her thumbs around the bottom of Santana’s dress and slides her hands up, pulling the dress with her as she goes. “That’s better,” she grins once the dress is on the floor and kisses her way from Santana’s lips to her neck and breasts and back again, before reaching round and undoing Santana’s bra and letting it fall to the floor.
And then Brittany lets Santana pull her bra off and push her back onto the bed, and Santana trails kisses down her body before settling between her legs and pulling her underwear off and pressing her tongue to where Brittany needs it most. Brittany’s eyes drift shut and she runs her hand lazily through Santana’s hair, gripping hard every now and then as her hips buck up to meet Santana’s mouth and gain extra friction.
Brittany bites her hand to try and stifle the noises she’s making, but Santana hears them all anyway. Brittany comes undone with a shout that sounds a lot like Santana’s name, her fingers tightening in dark hair involuntarily. Santana presses one more kiss between Brittany’s legs and then lays her head on Brittany’s thigh, looking up to find blue eyes staring down at her. Brittany shifts her weight, and reaches down to pull Santana up, and somehow Brittany ends up on top of her, her hips pressing into Santana’s in a way that’s almost but not quite what Santana needs.
“Brittany...” she whispers, and it’s a little needy but Brittany doesn’t seem to mind. She closes the distance between them and kisses Santana deeply, and Santana arches up into Brittany’s touch. Brittany’s hand slides between them and finds the wetness between Santana’s legs, and Santana gasps as Brittany slips into an easy rhythm. Her fingers dig into Brittany’s back as she feels the pressure building within her, and she presses her face into Brittany’s neck and gasps again as Brittany’s fingers push inside her. Brittany kisses her again, and bucks her hips against Santana in time with her thrusts and pretty soon, Santana slips over the edge, grabbing Brittany’s back and trying to hold on.
She opens her eyes after and finds Brittany watching her. She giggles and hums happily, reaching up to tuck a strand of Santana’s hair behind her ear. Santana smiles and pulls her closer, “I love you.”
Brittany tucks herself into Santana’s side and presses a kiss to the side of her mouth, “I know.”
They fall asleep wrapped round each other, and Santana comes awake in the morning surrounded by blond hair, safe in Brittany’s arms.
Finn and Kurt throw a party the weekend before school starts, and Brittany and Santana walk in holding hands, bumping shoulders and giggling at their own jokes. They dance together, and when Brittany goes to the bathroom, Quinn raises her eyebrows at Santana inquisitively from across the room, and then grins when Santana glances down and nods with a smile on her face.
A little later, Mike asks if Santana is going to start coming to the semi regular dance movie nights he, Tina and Brittany hold every few weeks, and Santana nods quickly, her eyes shining.
Tina brushes her arm as she dances past, “You better start practicing your dance moves!”
Santana smirks and pulls Brittany closer, “I’ve got the best teacher.”
Brittany grins and leans in to press her forehead to Santana’s before spinning away to do some crazy swing dancing with Mike.
They’re still Brittany and Santana, and though she catches their friends grinning at them from time to time, nothing’s really changed. So when Santana wants to kiss Brittany, she does, pulling her to her and kissing her until she remembers they’re in a room full of people and should probably stop soon. When they pull apart, everything’s exactly how it was except they’re both a little flushed, and Brittany wraps her arms around Santana and moves them to the beat of the song blaring from the stereo. They dance over to Quinn and she wraps her arms around them and laughs, and then Tina and Mercedes join in and Santana knows it’s just about the biggest cliché in the world, but she feels safe, and she leans into Brittany and kisses her quickly before pulling back and dancing with her friends.