Happy Valentine's Day everyone! Here's a ridiculous little story I thought up. Hope you guys like it.
Their love was forbidden. No one understood them, that was certain. Theirs was a love for the ages.
Santana knew it, they were star-crossed lovers.
No one approved, not even her so-called friends. But Santana knew from the first bite of the breadstick that nothing could ever compare. It brought her to heights of ecstasy that she never knew existed. When she was with her beloved sticks everything else tended to melt away from her awareness.
Santana took another bite of the breadstick, closing her eyes and sighing contentedly as she savoured it.
"San," A terse voice broke through her personal nirvana.
She ignored it and renewed her ardour.
"Santana."
That voice sure was persistent. But it couldn't distract her from noticing the delicious buttery coating that danced upon her palate, or how incredibly fluffy the inside of the stick was, as though the bread was celestial, spun by angels.
"Santana!"
That was it. This voice was ruining her breadstick experience.
She opened her eyes to find out who was stupid enough to not realise that she was having a divine moment. She was instead faced with a seriously pissed off Brittany. That was something she didn't see often.
Brittany did not really get angry. When she got upset with Santana she usually got pouty instead of mad, which meant that Santana usually caved and apologised to her right away (and more often than not proceed to buy her some kind of stuffed animal). Actually, now that she thought about it, she had never seen Brittany look this pissed off before, not even when Santana had thrown that hideous duck sweater that Rachel had given Britt into a tree where the blonde couldn't get to it. But it seemed like today Santana had stepped over some kind of line. But what exactly she had done escaped her.
She took another bite of the breadstick, barely suppressing a moan of delight. Brittany glowered at her even more intensely.
"What?"
"Stop that. Only I am allowed to put sex looks on your face. Not Puck and not breadsticks!"
Brittany was glaring intensely at the breadstick still held aloft in Santana's fingers. Though it pained her, the Latina thought it was wise to put the stick down, at least until she could convince Brittany that she was being irrational.
"Brittany, you're being irrational."
Surprisingly, that didn't seem to work.
"Don't tell me I'm being irrational, you know I failed math. I may not be able to tell the difference between rational and irrational numbers but I know that you'd rather eat breadsticks than give sweet lady kisses to your own girlfriend. And that is crazy," the blonde said, crossing her arms confrontationally.
Brittany was referring to a time last week when she asked Santana to come over to her place and the brunette declined. Santana had managed to get a freshman Cheerio to pick up a wheelbarrow of breadsticks for her and that pretty much filled up her day planner right there. What was she supposed to do? Say "Oh sorry breadsticks, you're just going to have to go stale because I have to go make out with my girlfriend, which I can do any old day by the way"? Besides, eating all those breadsticks at once meant that she was able to spend more time with Brittany later without craving them. There was nothing worse than having your girl kissing your neck in an enticing manner but not being able to stop thinking about those carb-laden treats.
"Britt that was one time! And I was super hungry that day," She lied; she had actually been almost full when the wheelbarrow had been brought in.
"Okay then, if you're not cheating on me with breadsticks then you wouldn't mind not eating them for a week, right San?" She asked nonchalantly but with an arched eyebrow that was challenging her.
Dear God Brittany is hot when she's being a jealous girlfriend.
But... breadsticks...
But come on, look at that girl. She looks like she is about to slap you and then have her way with you.
But... buttery, melt-in-your-mouth goodness?
Brittany is melt-in-your-mouth goodness.
Good point, but does she go as well with spaghetti as breadsticks do?
Well... no, more like she goes well with chocolate sauce... or just by herself.
There. The decision should be obvious: breadsticks.
Think about this, if you go home with her now you're bound to have mind-blowing, jealousy-fuelled sex. She will do things to you that are so dirty you've never even dreamed of them. And it's not like a week is that long of a time to wait, you can do it.
... Okay, I'm sold.
She shook out of her inner monologue (dialogue?) and fixed a grin on her face.
"Babe, no problem. You know I'd catch a grenade for you, so of course I can quit breadsticks for a week. You're the most important thing in my life, after all," Santana said, with saccharine sweetness.
Brittany looked a little suspicious so Santana pushed the breadsticks far away from her on the table for emphasis. When Santana reached over the table to hold her hand lovingly, Brittany was sold. With an uncharacteristically feral grin, the blonde leant over the table to whisper into Santana's ear.
"Let's go get our mack on."
And that's how we do it in Lima Heights, Santana thought to herself.
Trying to act cool, she threw down enough money to cover their meals and drew her girl out of the booth. She was not going to smile like a loon and practically skip out of the establishment like her traitorous body felt like doing. This was going to be good and she didn't want Brittany to change her mind.
It was good. Really, really good. Like if someone had bothered to write about what had happened Santana was pretty sure that everyone who read it would be super turned on right now because it was just so very hot. Like when Brittany touched her there and Santana made that sound and then Britt's tongue curled and later she opened Santana's drawer and took out that toy that she had specially ordered.
But that was over and done with and now she was on her second day without even seeing her beloved sticks and she was starting to grow antsy.
Santana loved everything about breadsticks. She loved the way they looked, the way they smelled, and of course the way they tasted. So it was extremely hard to be away from them for so long. She might have even written some free verse poetry about them.
You are not the sticks
That fall from trees
And not the bread
Spread with peanut butter and jelly
You are the world,
The infinity in my mouth.
She was no Shakespeare, that was for sure. But she had to articulate what she was feeling at the moment or else she was going to go postal.
It was now day five and Santana really thought she was going crazy. Yesterday she hallucinated that Brittany was a giant breadstick and so immediately jumped the girl and started nibbling and licking at the girl's neck, to the blonde's delight. And Santana wasn't even on the Sue Sylvester master cleanse diet. It kind of worked out for her since it lead to some pretty awesome sex but what if she had that hallucination with someone else? Like the troll? The brunette shuddered slightly. First Quinn would kill her (the two had gotten together a couple of weeks ago) and then Brittany would.
She was determined not to break her promise to stay away from the sticks but she needed something to get through the last two days. Practically hyperventilating, Santana made her way to the kitchen. She fumbled with the plastic twist tie on the bag of bread that was on the counter and then shakily drew a slice out. She shoved it into the toaster and went to the fridge, taking out the butter. Now all she had to wait. And she did, drooling and licking her lips. Finally the toast popped up and the Latina immediately took it out, ignoring her burning fingers, and slathered it with the butter. She brought the piece of toast tantalisingly close to her mouth but then a thought struck her.
Was this cheating? She knew that Brittany had specifically told her "no breadsticks" but this was bread too, so did it not count?
When she was hit with a waft that smelled almost like breadsticks, she decided that she didn't care and took a big bite.
Mediocrity permeated her mouth.
Chewing slowly, Santana levelled a glare at the toast. This was a far fucking cry from her beloved breadsticks.
Not ready to give up quite yet, she cut the bread into pieces to make 'sticks' of sorts, hoping that the familiar shape would be enough to appease her craving. But that didn't work either. She needed the real thing.
Her eyes met the takeout menu for Breadstix that was on the fridge. Picking it up, she looked for the restaurant's number and reached for her cell phone. But before she could do anything she would regret later, the phone rang.
"Uh... hello?"
"Hi San! What are you doing?"
She bit her lip guiltily at the sound of her girlfriend's voice on the other line.
"Oh... not too much, just you know working on some history homework. It's totally boring," She embellished.
"Well maybe you could come over and I could show you something not boring."
Santana grinned at that.
"Really? And what might you have to show me, Britt?" She said as seductively as she could manage.
If she was lucky Brittany would talk dirty to her over the phone before Santana came over to screw her senseless.
"My hamsters had babies! Hopefully this time the mom doesn't eat all of them," Brittany told her jubilantly.
Okay, so no phone sex. Or sex period. Whatever, spending time with Brittany is still spending time with Brittany.
"Sounds great, I'll be right over."
"Cool! And San... I just wanted to say that I'm so proud of you. Going off of breadsticks really proves to me that you care about our relationship. Anyway, I'll see you soon babe."
Santana swallowed the lump in her throat.
"Love you," she said, quietly.
Yeah, she definitely had to make it through this thing.
It was day seven and she had finally caved. With so little time left to wait, she just couldn't take it anymore.
She had actually burst into tears earlier, for no reason. She was Santana Fucking Lopez, she didn't cry on the regular. She usually only cried to get Brittany to pet her hair or because she had won a brand new car or something. She was not supposed to cry over breadsticks.
"I wish I knew how to quit you," she sobbed to the breadsticks in the takeout container on her bed.
When the woman at Breadstix told her that they didn't do takeout orders that consisted entirely of breadsticks Santana had wanted to slap her through the phone. Instead, she decided to convince the woman with some colourful, convincing language. It had worked flawlessly and now she had twenty breadsticks just asking her to taste them.
"What am I supposed to do? I can't resist you, but I love Brittany. I can't do this to her. I don't want to betray her trust but I've already done that by buying you!" She said aloud.
She grabbed the box and shook it, eyes crazed.
"Tell me what I should do, breadsticks! What can I do to not want you?"
The breadsticks remained silent. Typical. Santana put them down and washed a hand over her face.
"Santana."
The girl spun around in surprise, to be met with the last person she would want to catch her with breadsticks. Her eyes went wide with panic.
"Brittany! T-this isn't what it looks like! I haven't eaten any of them yet. I... I'm so sorry..." she hung her head in shame.
She was sure that Brittany was going to break up with her. I mean, why wouldn't she after this? Surprisingly, she heard the blonde walking towards her and soon felt her chin being lifted. Brittany looked down at her warmly. She certainly didn't look mad.
"San, it's okay."
Santana made a face of complete incomprehension.
"Wait, what?"
"I think I get how much you like breadsticks now. And I know that you're not trying to replace me, so maybe it's okay for you to want them all the time as long as you're not ditching me to go eat them by yourself."
Santana dazedly nodded in agreement. The blonde smiled, but seemed a little nervous.
"Maybe..." Brittany started, tentatively, "we could enjoy breadsticks... together from now on?"
Santana snapped out of her daze and looked at her girl in astonishment.
"You mean?"
Instead of answering, Brittany reached for the takeout box. With Santana watching, she took up a breadstick and tore off a bite-sized piece. Returning those beautiful blue eyes to meet with Santana's own, she drew her close with her free hand. Then she brought the piece of breadstick up to Santana's mouth.
Was this really happening? Because if Santana didn't know any better, she would have thought that she had died and gone to heaven.
"Go on," Brittany encouraged, running her hand over Santana's back lightly.
Santana gulped and then opened her mouth, taking in the bread. She chewed lightly, eyes fluttering at the amazing flavour. It was good. Really good. Better than ever before, actually.
And it probably had something to do with the blonde that was looking at her with such delight on her face.
"You're so hot when I feed you breadsticks," Brittany murmured, eyes dark.
Santana suddenly got an urge that had nothing to do with breadsticks.
She took the box and tossed it aside before crushing her lips to Brittany's in utter passion. The dancer moaned slightly and Santana pressed her down to the bed.
The breadsticks could wait.