It Looks Like Need
"I don't like it when Puck says you're whipped because it makes it sound like you're a horse and I'm trying to break you, I saw it on TV, Santana, there are horse tamers who beat horses when they don't behave and it makes me so sad."
Too late, Santana thinks, but: "It's worth it." Not it'll be, none of that future tense: "It is all right, Brittany," because their future is here already years away from talk of cannon families (Brittany) and polyester social armor (Santana). "Puck's an asshole."
"I don't want you to be whipped," Brittany says softly; Santana's right hand plays the opening chord of a song on Brittany's abdomen, bare and still taut and ivory-sculpted. You're the only one I can count on, my headband— she frowns and changes the chord progression. Much better is— I got you in the palm of my hand…
"I know I am," Santana replies. "But I don't care. Because it means I'm doing my best. To give you everything you deserve." Which is everything good and beautiful and right and most of the time Santana isn't any of those three, so she resigns herself to doing whatever Brittany tells her to do. Because even now, years later when she's mature enough to realize that she is all Brittany really wants, she still can't quite believe it.
Brittany nuzzles at Santana's jaw; she's perfected the nuzzle, after years of studying her cats, and it makes Santana purr. And so she purrs, as Brittany continues talking. "Why do they have to say it like it's so bad, though? You're just trying to love me any way you can." Her voice catches. "And you make me happy, Santana. So, so happy. Why can't they just say it like that?"
Santana's breath leaps away from her lungs like a frightened thief from a window. Even now, even now – this is Brittany who will always be reaching into her heart and lungs and claiming ownership of Santana's life and blood and breath, Brittany to whom she will always belong if only Brittany will never leave her, that's all she asks. An incredibly steep price, but the only one she'll ever demand from Brittany.
And the only words that manage to come out of Santana's mouth are: "They're just jealous."
Brittany smiles now. "They better be."
"It's okay. I don't care. I don't care what anyone says. Just don't leave me," Santana says softly, laying down her final offer.
"Never." Brittany pulls Santana closer, tangling their legs like overgrown tree roots, as if that would anchor them to Brittany's promise of forever more than anything. "Never ever, Santana. I won't ever leave you."