Warning: Same as the first chapter, yo.
A/N: HAH! SURPRIIIISE! Happy Sexy Saturday, err'body! ;)
So, ya'll can blame (or thank, whichever) crammit for this fic, because she bugged me like a boss. So here's the second part of this TWO-SHOT; fic dedication is the same, of course.
Happy wanking! 8)~
It's hours later, and Brittany's lying on her bed, reading a book and trying not to think about Santana being with Puck. Despite her best efforts, however, her blue eyes dart anxiously back and forth between the small clock on her bedside table and her iPhone on the bed beside her. As the minutes drag, Brittany chews her lip nervously and replays everything that happened with Santana under the bleachers in her mind. The burning, dark look in Santana's eyes, the way Santana's hands felt on the skin of her stomach for the first time, the rough, insistent motion of Santana's hips rutting against her ass, the hot, rapid puffs of breath expelled from Santana's mouth as she approached her orgasm- it's almost too much for Brittany to handle.
But then there's the suddenness with which Santana's eyes turned cold, the sharp, cutting edge of her words, her quick departure- all of it left Brittany confused, with her stomach twisting itself into knots, and the past few hours haven't helped that knot to loosen. She's not used to feeling this way; she's confused and unsure as to why she does. She's never been jealous before. She's never been rejected before. She doesn't really know how to handle either of those feelings.
She also doesn't know how to stop feeling them, and that's the weirdest sensation of all. She's never been helpless before; she's never been at the mercy of someone else. It's new and a little scary, especially when she realizes with a sinking feeling that Santana, quite obviously, doesn't reciprocate her feelings.
She glances at her silent phone again and sighs.
She refocuses back on her book and realizes she's read the same paragraph seven times, but can't even decipher what it says. Sighing again, she shuts the book and places it on her bedside table. She's not going to get any reading done tonight. Maybe she should just go to sleep.
Her thoughts drift again, back to that heated moment under the bleachers. Fuck, Santana had been so sexy, the way she moaned when she came-
Brittany clenches her thighs shut, biting her lip. She can't think about that. It would probably never happen again. And Santana's with Puck, anyways-
She startles when she hears her window sliding open, and sits up quickly. Her heart pounds when Santana climbs smoothly through the window, just as she's done at least a dozen times before. Brittany watches, swallowing down her anxiety as Santana's feet touch the ground and she bends to close the window behind her. When Santana turns, their eyes meet briefly before Santana drops her gaze, and Brittany can tell she's nervous- she's practically vibrating with it.
"Hey, B," Santana says softly, avoiding her eyes.
"Hi," Brittany returns, just as softly. She glances at her closed bedroom door- it's a little late for Santana to be over, but she knows her parents won't disturb her. They just have to keep their voices down. It's not like they've never snuck over each other's houses before- the thought makes Brittany's heart twinge a little.
It's quiet for a moment, and finally, Brittany breaks the silence. "How was- uhm, how was your date with Puck?"
Santana shakes her head slowly, still avoiding Brittany's eyes. "I cancelled."
Brittany's eyebrows rise dramatically. "What? But-"
"I'm sorry about earlier," Santana interrupts suddenly, finally lifting her gaze from the various furniture around Brittany's room. Brittany can feel her heart pounding in her chest at Santana's apology, can feel her stomach knot untying itself.
"It's okay," Brittany says, because she doesn't know what else to say. Despite her best efforts to stop it, her heart flutters with hope. (Santana apologized, Santana didn't go out with Puck, Santana's standing in her bedroom-)
Santana's expression, fearful and fervent, softens a little. Her brown eyes take on a shine of gratitude, and Brittany is glad that she said the right thing for once- she wants to reassure Santana, she wants Santana to feel safe, and not regretful. So she smiles at her, relieved that her stomach isn't tense and twisty anymore- that is, until Santana moves closer to the bed, and then Brittany's stomach is tensing and twisting in a whole different way- a good way. She keeps Santana's gaze and wonders at Santana's words- wonders if their relationship is going to change-
Santana reaches up to stroke Brittany's blonde bangs from her face, and Brittany's breath catches in her throat at the bare, gentle touch. Her nerves suddenly feel like they're on fire from Santana's fingertips on her forehead, on her cheek, and she swallows, her mouth feeling like she ate an entire bag of cotton balls.
"I shouldn't have left you like that," Santana says in a voice just above a whisper, and before Brittany can respond, she's leaning forward and pressing her full lips to Brittany's.
Brittany sucks in a breath and kisses back, unsure if she should reach up to touch Santana; but when Santana shifts closer, when Santana climbs onto the bed and straddles her, Brittany can't resist, and she cups Santana's face in her hand, pulling her deeper into the kiss.
Brittany's heart is thundering, her stomach is tensing, and for a moment, Brittany panics- she wonders if Santana can see the obvious way her body responds to her touch, to her kisses, and how Santana would react- but then Santana tilts her head and swipes her tongue across Brittany's bottom lip, and Brittany can't stop the soft moan that forces its way from her throat even if she tried.
The sound seems to embolden Santana, whose kiss grows more ferocious by the second; Santana plants her elbows just above Brittany's shoulders and tangles the fingers on her right hand in Brittany's hair, using her left hand to cup Brittany's jaw and guide her even deeper into the kiss. Brittany pants, gasps when Santana's thigh suddenly presses between her legs. and she wraps her arms around Santana's tiny waist. Her hips rock up reflexively and her head is spinning, her thoughts jumbled as the gravity of the situation hits her- this is the first time she's ever felt any part of Santana pressed against her so intimately.
Her thoughts fly back to the memory of earlier in the day, to the way Santana felt pressed against her and the heat of her fingers on her skin, and all at once Brittany's throbbing, her breath coming in rapid, heavy pants as Santana's lips work their way down her jaw and to her ear, finding the sweet spot on her neck almost instantly. When Santana begins sucking there, Brittany's hips buck up in response, and Santana presses her thigh against her harder. Brittany can't stop the rolling of her hips; she's too turned on, she needs release too badly. She hadn't been able to work past the sting of Santana's cruel words to take care of her built-up tension from earlier, and now that it's back and doubled in potency, Brittany's aching for release.
They start a quick, clumsy rhythm that grows smoother as it goes; Santana's thigh is warm but Brittany's core is warmer, and Brittany can feel how slick she is, how she's soaked through her underwear and probably her shorts. She hopes Santana can't feel it, but she's a little embarrassed to admit that she probably can.
A sharp thrust makes Brittany moan loudly, and Santana hushes her gently in her ear, reminding her that it's late. Brittany bites her lip to stifle herself, but she's close already and she's completely ashamed at how little it's taking to get her off. She looks up into Santana's face- Santana's biting her lip, too, her eyes downcast to watch the way her thigh rubs against Brittany's damp center, the way Brittany's hips push up against it. It's carnal and instinctual and the sight makes Brittany's skin burn hotter. She wants Santana to touch her so badly, but she's not sure how to ask and not sure what kind of line it might cross, and she can feel her orgasm approaching and definitely doesn't want to risk Santana stopping-
"I'm- I'm close," Brittany pants, her grip tightening on Santana's back. She tries to find purchase in Santana's shoulder blades without hurting her, but she's not sure she can, and she feels like she needs to hold onto something, because she knows she's going to come hard-
She wants Santana to look at her- and Santana does, but fleetingly, sparing quick glances at Brittany's face. It's obvious that Santana wants to watch her come apart, but is too ashamed to admit it, doesn't want Brittany to think she's gay. Brittany can see the panic playing out on Santana's face, and her heart sinks a little. She doesn't want Santana to be uncomfortable- not like this.
"Wait," she gasps, and Santana's eyes find hers curiously. "I want- I want to do it like you did." It takes Santana a second, but then Brittany sees the relief wash over her face. Santana nods quickly, shifting off of her and beside her on the bed, and Brittany gently pushes Santana down onto her stomach, then straddles her ass, biting her lip at the sight. She was already close, but she knows she's not going to last long at all.
When Brittany brings her throbbing, clothed center down to the firm curve of Santana's ass, she lets her breath out with a heavy groan. Santana's so soft and supple but solid, and she can feel the way Santana flexes the muscles as Brittany thrusts against her, moaning softly. Her hips rut hard, pushing her throbbing, swollen clit against the firm muscle, and Brittany's palms press into the bed on either side of Santana, holding her weight.
For a moment, Brittany's mind wanders away, and she imagines what it might be like if Santana wasn't wearing her clothes, and if Brittany wasn't wearing her sleep shorts. She wishes she could feel the smooth, hot skin of Santana's ass pressed against her dripping core, wishes she could rub her wetness all over it-
Santana moans beneath her, and Brittany can feel the tension in her body. Her heart is pounding so hard she thinks it might beat right out of her chest, and she imagines leaning down, sliding her arms under Santana's shoulders and pressing her breasts into Santana's back as she thrusts; she craves to be closer, craves intimacy with Santana, but she knows she can't have it, not yet.
Santana turns her head slightly and Brittany notices her watching her out of the corner of her eye, her mouth open as she breathes heavily, her face flushed despite her tan complexion. She knows Santana wants to watch her fall apart- and she won't deny her, not this. She drops her head a little and thrusts jerkily, feeling herself right at the edge. Her thighs tense and she closes her eyes and imagines them pressed together, naked and sweaty, imagines their eyes locked solely on each other, imagines whispered words of love-
When her orgasm hits her with the force of a freight train, Brittany bites her lip to keep from crying out, a tiny, strangled whimper all that escapes her as she shudders and jerks her hips, pressed tight to Santana's ass. She feels Santana shiver beneath her, hears her moan and breathe, "you're so hot, B," as the shocks pulse through her.
When her hips finally still and her breathing calms slightly, she reaches up and pulls a hand through her hair, then slides off of Santana and onto her back beside her on the bed. Her chest is still heaving and she knows her face and collarbones are still flushed, and she's worried Santana is going to panic again, that she's going to freak out about what they just did and leave- but then Santana's leaning over her and kissing her, slipping her tongue into her mouth, and Brittany sighs, completely overwhelmed with the pleasant but confusing feelings rushing through her.
After long moments of slow kissing, Santana curls up against her, laying her head on Brittany's shoulder. They usually always cuddle after making out, even though Brittany's always painfully turned on. She's never had cuddles with Santana after an amazing, satisfying orgasm though, and she hums with pleasure and contentment, stroking fingers through Santana's dark hair and enjoying the pressure of Santana's warm body against her.
When they're cuddling like this, Brittany thinks it's kind of obvious how Santana feels about her.
D'awww. :')
Well, there you have it!
My very short, recent venture into the land of angst has been sufficiently resolved.
Review if you feel like it. But if not, well, see you Wednesday!
AND NOW A WORD FROM ~OFFICER SAFETY:
Don't climb into someone's house through their second-story window. It's highly dangerous. What if you fell and broke both your arms? Then you wouldn't be able to do anything- no writing, no tumblr-ing, NO FUCKING. How awful! D:
So just don't. Or at least get a ladder, and follow all ladder safety precautions.
If da bitch lives on the first floor, though- then that's probably okay. Just maybe give her a warning first- she might have a baseball bat.
Or, if she's me- a taser. XD
PLAY SAFE AND STAY SAFE! :D
*****chapter title is taken from the Blink182 song of the same name, which kind of fits