fic: some punishment; glee; brittany/santana; g
Title: some punishment
Author: yesssirrr
Characters/Pairings: Brittany/Santana
Rating: G
Length: 1,000 words
Spoiler: none
Disclaimer: I don't own these characters or people. No copyright infringement intended. I JUST WANT TO WRITE ABOUT THEM.
Summary: Banishment punishment to the couch for the grouch. Santana and Brittany "don't have" an argument.
Author's Note: For one of phenomenal0cat's prompts. Thanks for editing it for me, even though it's really editing for you. So thank yourself.
Author's Note II: This is FLUFF. Yay, no angst!
;;
“I’m not having this argument with you.”
“It’s only an argument because you keep saying no!”
“Because it’s a bad idea, Britt. A bad, stupid idea that we should stop talking about, preferably now.”
Santana saw the look on Brittany’s face - clenched jaw and eyes narrowed just slightly, her cheeks and the top part of her chest were pink from getting worked up from this argument they were “not having”. Santana normally would see this when they were having sex and that usually turned her on. But right now, it was not arousing anything from Santana except for a growl in frustration.
Brittany opened her mouth but Santana knew what was going to happen next.
“Don’t even say it. You just keep your mouth-just don’t say it. I’m going,” she said pointing her finger at Brittany who effectively closed her mouth. Santana snatched her pillow from the bed, mumbling this is fucking crazy before storming out.
She got past the door and only about two feet down the hall before she walked back and looked Brittany straight in the eye. Santana’s features softened a little, but not too much - they were “not having” an argument, after all. “You cool yourself down… I love you.”
Brittany took a second to respond. “I love you too.”
Santana nodded a little before walking away for a second time. She grumbled the whole way from the bedroom to the couch where she was going to be spending the night. She was, once again, banished from her own bed. Banishment punishment, to the couch for the grouch has got to be the stupidest rhyme ever. The fact that Brittany always thought it was the best thing to say during an argument, like the one they were “not having”, only made it worse.
These fights didn’t happen often, but when they did, she was always the one to get banished to the couch. Just because Brittany, who by some strange luck, was able to haggle down the cost of the overpriced bedroom set because the seller was a friend of a friend who owed her a favor, shouldn’t mean that Santana should have to be the one to get stuck sleeping elsewhere. It shouldn’t. But for some reason she agreed to that rule when they moved in together. She was probably horny and somewhat drunk when it happened.
Now she was going to suffer possible back injuries because they were “not having” a stupid, lousy argument.
Santana fluffed her pillow as angrily as she could before moving around to get comfortable so she could get some damn rest. She may not have to work the next morning, but she still wanted her beauty sleep. But of course it always took a while for her to fall asleep whenever the two of them “don’t have” an argument.
Santana was still fuming but she tried to calm herself down because she never went to bed upset or angry, even now. So she repeated to herself calming words: I love her. I have the day off tomorrow. I love her. Day off. I love her. Make-up sex. I love her. Make-up sex. I love her. Make. Up. Sex.
The stress of the day, their non-argument and her calming mantra soon left Santana exhausted, letting her drift into unconsciousness.
--
It was around 4:30 in the morning when Brittany threw the covers away from her and sat up in bed. She sighed and rolled her eyes because she was the one that was upset, so she didn’t know why she always did this to herself. So much for putting your foot down, she thought.
She quietly padded out of their room and into the living room, seeing her girlfriend sprawled out on the couch.
She sighed and walked quickly to her girlfriend since she was already getting cold. She didn’t like how much colder things were when Santana wasn’t around. Even only after a couple of hours. She knelt by Santana’s ear and leaned in.
“San…” she whispered, carefully nudging Santana by the shoulders.
She didn’t move.
“Santana…baby,” she whispered louder as she tried again, moving Santana’s shoulders a bit more.
Still sound asleep, Santana automatically moved herself around and turned on her side to face her. Brittany smiled because this never failed. Having slept beside each other for so long, it’d become muscle memory.
She quickly placed herself beside Santana and wrapped the other girl’s arm around her waist, tangling their fingers together.
She’ll just have to talk to her tomorrow. At least now she’s comfortable and warm.
Not five minutes later, Santana shifted a little bit more, but tightened her hold on her. Brittany thought nothing of it until she felt Santana’s breath by her ear.
“B, we have a perfectly good, perfectly soft and perfectly big bed in the room and we’re out here on the couch.”
Brittany smiled to herself, biting her lip a little. “It’s your punishment.”
“Maybe you should stop punishing me.”
Brittany took their held hands and kissed the top of her girlfriend’s hand. Santana, for her part, sighed into Brittany’s hair and pulled her closer.
“I’m sorry, okay?” Santana murmured behind her. “We can talk about it tomorrow. I’ll try not to completely shut you down. But I can’t make any promises if I really don’t agree with it. Okay?”
Brittany sighed. “Okay.”
“Okay. Are we good? I’d like to sleep now.”
Brittany turned her whole body around (as much as she could in the limited space) to face Santana. She kissed her and smiled, basking in Santana’s warmth that blanketed over her.
“Yeah, we’re good.”
Santana held her tightly, shifting so their legs tangled together, much like everything else in their lives.
Brittany smirked, hearing Santana growl.
“B! Your feet are so cold,” she whined, even as she covered them with her own to fight off the cold.
“It’s your-” Brittany started, but was cut off. She could swear Santana was rolling her eyes.
“-punishment. Yeah, yeah I got it.”