Disclaimer: I don't own Glee, but I do love it dearly. Especially these two. It was always on.
A/N: Thanks for reading, this sort of came to me in a hurry and was a quick write.
It's dark by the time I pull the car into the driveway. I cut the engine and switch off the lights and everything goes quiet but my head still feels like shouting. Motocross was grueling for the third time this week; extra prep for a tournament, and I took a hard fall that left my ribs groaning with every intake of breath. I close my eyes and lean my head against the cold leather of the steering wheel and think of you, San.
I think of driving with you on a Saturday in autumn. Of the red-orange of the leaves contrasted against green grass and the smell of the apple cider we shared filling the car. Of your shoulders square to me even though I'm driving, your ankle tucked neatly under you and your dark eyes peering at me from the passenger seat. How the skin would furrow ever so slightly between your eyebrows and your corners of your lips would turn down just enough for me to see you worry.
I know you worry about me, San. Worry that motocross is too dangerous, or that I'm too fragile and too reckless with myself. I trust too easily, you tell me, but I say that is why you and I are so perfect, sweetheart. Like peanut butter and fluff.
I feel the tension already begin to slip from my shoulders and I pull myself slowly out of the car and into the house. It's dark, my parents and sister already tucked upstairs in bed, and I can't even think about anything but wrapping myself in your shirt, you know the ratty old Colombia one you stole from your dad's dresser when we were eight? There are holes in the armpits and I can still feel your tongue lick up my skin and tickling me through them. Easy access, you'd joke.
I'm at the foot of the stairs and begin to climb when I hear a quiet snore. I pivot my upper body around so fast that I groan, my rib throbbing. But when my eyes unclench, my whole body goes soft like marshmallow peeps and I know I've got that dopey grin plastered on my face you tell me you love. Because there you are San, sprawled across the couch in my living room on a school night. You wanted to wait up for me but practice ran late so my parents let you stay. They knew it was no use sending you home since you always sneak back in later and it's better they don't risk you falling from the trellis below my window again. My mom was really fond of those violets you landed on.
Sometimes I wish I could just look at you forever, Santana. The way your dark hair falls in feathery waves across your forehead, or the way your lips form a pout when you're sleeping, cheeks slightly puffed and rosy. You look worried now, even in sleep, and I know you'll be upset if I don't wake you, so I tiptoe forward and softly kiss the tip of your nose and then each eyelid. With a lithe finger I trace along your eyebrow, brushing away your hair as I go, and I feel you exhale against my cheek. "You are so beautiful," I breathe, eyes moving along your cheekbones and the curl of your eyelashes. They slowly flutter open and as our eyes connect, I feel the worries of my day drift off as if they were all balloons and you cut the strings and they sail up into the clouds.
"What time is it?" you whisper, your voice like fine-grained sandpaper.
"Eleven," I relay, sitting back on my heels and wincing at the movement. Of course that didn't go unnoticed by you, you're like a ninja, San. Or like Jason Bourne, some secret spy. The creases reappear as your forehead knits together and your eyes narrow and I sigh, leaning forward to rest my forehead against your arm. You let me, but pull your other hand across your abdomen to trace swirling lines against my cheek.
"Britt, what happened?" you whisper, fingers moving from my cheek to ghost across my side. I shiver as they travel up from my hip to under my arm and back down again.
"I fell. Took a turn too sharp and went over the handlebars. It's really no big deal, San. I was wearing my pads." You're not convinced, of course. "Really, they're just bruised. I'll be fine."
She opens her mouth to argue but I cut her off quickly. "San?"
"Yeah, honey?"
"Can we sleep down here tonight? I don't think I can make it upstairs. Plus I think that monster is back in the closet. He keeps yodeling." Your eyes soften and you scoot further into the cushions, lifting the blanket tangled around your legs and making room for me to tuck down into you. You brush the sweaty hair from my forehead and couldn't care less about the dirt that is gritty against my skin and you let me put my ear against your chest so I can listen to the steady metronome of your heart.
"Hey San, did you know that if you give a heart a blood supply with lots of oxygen, it can beat outside a human body for a long time? You could take my heart and hear it beat forever." With my head pressed to you, your chuckle sounds so deep and liquid that I pull my chin up and peer up at you through long eyelashes. "Just make sure you keep it safe, okay? Not like in Pirates of the Caribbean in that stupid little chest that anyone can open."
You laugh again, but your face suddenly turns more serious and you whisper, "I'll never lose your heart, B. I promise." I feel the next breath catch in my throat and I hiccup. And there's the goofy grin again. "But please be careful with the damn motorcycles, I mean…"
My lips are on yours before you can finish your lecture and I kiss you so long and soft that you forget you were worried in the first place. With your bottom lip between my teeth, I slowly suck until I back up enough to let you go. "I love you, Santana. Now shut up so I can kiss you, okay?" I climb to straddle your hips and you smile and reach up for my lips as I draw the blanket over our heads.