A/N: First ever Brittana fic! Plz tell me if it's awful so I'll never write them again, hahaha.
There are so so SO many directions I want to go with the whole drunk-San-and-Brittany thing. I have a tentative idea that involves Sam and Santana and the title "Lying Is the Most Fun A Girl Can Have Without Taking Her Clothes Off," named after said song by Panic! At the Disco.
ANYHOWZERS. Check out my fics Home is Wherever I'm With You and Gravity to see some lovely Klaine goodness, including sick!Blaine and caretaker!Kurt. Fluff galore.
This story is dedicated to my muse, the brilliant and hilarious Keitorin Asthore. Go read her fics! They are beyond incredible.
I don't own gleeeeeee.
Magnetism
Somehow in her haze of alcohol-induced despair, Santana found herself on the couch next to Brittany. The blonde ex-cheerleader was giggling softly, and Santana followed his gaze to see a very irate Quinn chewing out Finn. The quarterback looked positively terrified.
"Talk about Head Bitch in Charge," Brittany slurred her words a little and lapsed back into giggles. Santana felt misery rising in her chest and pulled her knees to her chest, choking on a sob.
"You're making funny noises, San," Brittany observed with the determined focus of someone very inebriated. Santana began to cry for what must have been the tenth time that evening, great heaving sobs that shook her body.
"Q's a bitch and-a-and she still has people that love her!" Santana gasped out between sobs. Tears burned in her already-swollen eyes. "It's like - it's like - no one loves me!" Real sorrow welled beneath the liquor clouding her mind, and she buried her face in her hands. "I mean, there's Sam, but he's not even that hot or sexy and - what am I even saying?"
Brittany was watching her levelly. "San," she crooned, reaching out and peeling her fingers from her eyes very gently. "San-tan-a. Your name is so pretty, it makes my tongue all warm."
Santana glanced up and noticed for the first time that Brittany wasn't wearing a shirt. She shivered and swallowed a fresh wave of tears.
"Shhh," Brittany breathed, raising a trembling forefinger and placing it to Santana's lips after a few misguided attempts. "Don't cry, San. Your eyes are all wet."
"But B - " Santana cried, her harsh breathing giving way to hiccups.
"I'll make you feel better," Brittany continued, her voice dropping to a low purr that was so undeniably sexy it set Santana's heart racing. The blonde placed her hands on Santana's shoulders and kissed her slowly, smoothly. Santana's lips opened reflexively and she wrapped her arms around Brittany's neck and through her hair like a vine twining towards the sun. The two ex-cheerleaders sank slowly back onto the couch, dropping out of sight of their drunken friends.
"Where's Artie?" Santana breathed against Brittany, breaking the kiss for a moment to come up for air.
Brittany only hummed against her lips as a response. Her tongue traveled gently over Santana's defined cheekbones, catching her tears in a gentle flourish that sent Santana's heart melting all over again. The Latina closed her eyes and deepened the kiss, feeling love surge above and beyond her intoxication.
If Santana was iron - cold, hard, unbendable, and seemingly unfeeling - then Brittany was her magnet, drawing her into her warmth no matter where and when they were. And, Santana mused before she lost herself in the kiss, it was never worth fighting the laws of physics.