Author's note: I don't even know. Short little thing. This has been in my drafts for weeks so I decided to just finish it.
She's thinking again. Brittany always knows when Santana's thinking and she smiles a little as she leans against the doorframe to her private bathroom, watching.
It hadn't always been just hers; it connected to her younger sister's room also, but after Allie had walked in to brush her teeth early one morning and got an eyeful of Brittany's naked body holding Santana against the shower wall, she hadn't argued when Brittany asked for the extra door to be permanently locked.
"I'd rather just go down the hall, Mom. Honestly," she'd insisted and Brittany's mother had simply pursed her lips and nodded her consent, trying to pretend she did notice the mischievous look her eldest daughter shared with her best friend at the decision.
Brittany studies Santana for a few moments, taking in of all the subtle nuances that only time and patience could reveal. She loves the way Santana's eyebrows scrunch together every time she has a particularly meaningful thought. She loves the way Santana chews her bottom lip nervously and the way she absentmindedly picks at the lint of her black knee socks when she notices Brittany is watching her.
It's completely adorable and Brittany feels her heart swell with the love she'd only recently been able to shower upon Santana. After school let out for summer, Brittany didn't see Santana for almost a month.
Brittany had known that by staying with Artie, she'd hurt Santana in a way that no one else ever had and no one else ever could. Santana had handed over her heart and opened herself up completely to Brittany, and it had killed her to say the things she said to Santana; to push her away like that.
On the last day of school, Brittany had cornered Santana at her locker and they'd talked and cried and hugged and Brittany had thought that everything was going to get better.
"You're my best friend," Santana had whispered into her hair and though Brittany's heart sank a little when she'd heard it, she'd tried to convince herself that it was a start.
Brittany had tried to ignore the twist in her stomach when Santana offered her a pinky and a watery smile. It had felt like old times; too much like old times. She'd gone home that day hoping that the summer would help them grow closer without the pressure of school and judgment.
She'd tried calling and texting Santana in the beginning, but she never got any answer so eventually she just stopped. Brittany had come up with crazy excuses to tell herself why Santana wasn't speaking to her, but she only did that to drown out the voice in her head that was whispering, "She doesn't want to see you. You've lost your chance."
When Santana had showed up outside her bedroom door randomly (Brittany's parents always let her in) with a bottle of sparkling cider and a to-go container of spaghetti and meatballs from Breadstix, Brittany hadn't known what to think.
She had been speechless but it hadn't mattered since the second Brittany had let Santana in the door, Santana's lips were on her own, pushing her back onto the bed as her fingers began delivering promises that words could never express.
They'd had to reheat the food.
When they'd gotten down to the last meatball, Santana had smiled and leaned over the plate, nudging it towards Brittany with her nose.
"Lady and the Tramp, right?" she'd giggled as Brittany moved the plate aside and tackled her onto the bed. She'd playfully licked the sauce from Santana's face before kissing her softly and since then, things between them had never been better.
"Where are you right now?" Brittany asks as she makes her way over to the bed and crawls on, sitting herself against the head board. Santana's back is turned and her breathing is uneven.
"I was just thinking…that's all." Brittany smiles then, scooting forward to press a kiss to Santana's shoulder as she molds herself against her back.
She wraps her arms around Santana's waist, pulling her closer and presses another kiss to the side of Santana's neck.
"I know that, silly. But what are you thinking about?" Brittany tries to lighten the mood but Santana hears the hesitation in her voice; feels Brittany clinging to her as if she's afraid that Santana will leave her again.
She reaches down and brings one of Brittany's hands to her lips, kissing each fingertip reverently before she turns to kiss Brittany's cheek.
Santana meets Brittany's eyes and she relaxes back into Brittany's chest. It feels good to just be them. They fit together so perfectly that it kills Santana to think that she'd ever done anything to jeopardize them. It kills her to remember how she'd tried to trivialize them.
"Brittany…?" Santana whispers uncertainly. She leans her head back against Brittany's shoulder, sighing when she feels Brittany nuzzle into her hair in response.
She doesn't speak and Santana knows it's because Brittany can tell that whatever she's about to say is going to be hard for her. The grip around her tightens and Santana drags in a shaky breath.
"Do you ever think about where you wanna be? Like when you're older?" It's a heavy question and Brittany doesn't answer it right away.
She exhales after a moment of thought and says, "Well, I know I wanna dance, but I'm not really sure what else. I want to have a house and stuff once I find a job, and I need it to have a studio in the basement for when I teach my kids how to dance. They're gonna be amazing and I'll help them practice for hours," she gushes, and Santana can't keep the smile off her face as Brittany continues.
"Hmm, but I always lose track of time so you'll have to remind me not to work them too hard…What about you?"
And there it is. It's comes out so easily that Santana hardly notices that Brittany's said it.
"You'll have to remind me…" Santana repeats in her head and she feels warmth growing deep inside her as she realizes how obvious it is to Brittany that Santana will be there. She'd just assumed that all of this, the drama they're in, is just a bump in the road.
She's planning to keep her around. Brittany wants to keep her around. She believes that Santana will eventually stop caring about what everyone else thinks of her and just do what she wants. She believes in her.
Santana's so overwhelmed that it's not until Brittany nudges her and repeats "What about you?" that she remembers the question she's been asked.
"Oh, don't worry about it, Britt Britt. I was just asking," she dodges, patting Brittany's hand gently.
Santana can sense the disappointment as Brittany's shoulders slump slightly and the hands at her waist are just a little looser before Brittany's pecking her lightly on the shoulder once more, mumbling, "Right. Okay," as she hops up and heads back to the bathroom.
Later that night, Santana finds herself dozing off, lying on top of Brittany with a hand in her hair as Brittany's hand rests comfortably on her lower back beneath her shirt.
They're watching Jersey Shore as Brittany's fingers trace shapeless patterns across her skin while her own scratch absentmindedly at Brittany scalp. The whole thing feels so ridiculously domestic and Santana truly can't understand how anyone could think that what they have is wrong.
She turns her head away from the TV and places a kiss on Brittany's chest before looking up to her eyes. "Hi," she murmurs sleepily.
Brittany giggles and leans down to press her lips to Santana's forehead briefly. "Hi."
Santana shuffles up Brittany's body a little, tucking her head under Brittany's chin and settling in to sleep. Brittany grabs the remote and turns off the TV, plunging the room into darkness.
She's almost asleep when she hears Santana mumbling into her neck, "I don't care if you work them hard. We can just make it up to them with Breadstix. Breadstix fixes everything."
Hope you liked it! Thanks for reading! Drop review if you're so inclined:)