Chapter 8
You guys are all so fucking awesome. But I need a Beta, I think. I don't know how it works or if this even is the right way to request one but PM if you're interested.
Love, love, love you guys!
The sudden burst of chilly cold air surprised Santana as she stepped out of the apartment complex.
Los Angeles was generally a mildly tempered city, so the fact that it was fucking freezing out was abnormal. Kind of made her want to go back to her apartment and get a jacket, but...
She shook her head and wrapped two arms around herself, wondering what the fuck she should do now.
There was no desire in her to be inside that apartment. All the breathtaking, content, beautiful emotions she was experiencing hours before have all drained out of her system. The only thing she was feeling as she took a few steps towards the main side walk was fear.
Fear of love, of emotions, of Brittany.
And she had no freaking clue why.
Her feet made her mind up for her. They took her farther away from the building without her registering it. She really had no destination.
See this is why you shouldn't be a bitch to everyone, that way you'd have friends who'd let you crash their place for the night. Idiot.
She was so out of it she didn't notice a voice calling her.
"Santana." The voice not unfamiliar.
Her head turned to the sight of Brenda, the woman with the number. She was leaning against the wall plants, lazily smoking a cigarette. Normally, a woman smoking turned her on slightly, but the sight before did nothing for her lady groins. She mentally groaned.
"Oh, hey." She replied, turning fully towards her.
"What are you doing out this late? And with no jacket..." Brenda raised her brow towards Santana's bare arms.
She scowled in return, "I could ask you the same thing."
Brenda shrugged and indicated toward her cigarette, "Baby was making a fuss. This is the only way to relieve the tension and stress."
"You have a baby?" The woman looked Santana's age, give or take a few years.
"Nah. It's my neighbors kid. Won't stop screaming in the middle of the night. Devil child..."
Santana nodded slowly and stepped up. The scent of tobacco was quite intriguing. It brought old memories of mid-terms, finals, and even late night parties. It was a phase in her life she'd rather forget (there were a lot of those). Tobacco was extremely horrible, but at this moment, she desired nothing except that cancer stick.
"I feel like you're about to molest my stick if I don't hand you one soon." Brenda laughed, reaching for her pockets. Santana watched in relief as she provided her one. "Rough night?"
Brenda held out a lighter as Santana came to stand beside her. "Actually the opposite." Santana pursed her lips once the words escaped them. She didn't know this chick well. There was absolutely no reason to start opening up to her.
"Interesting." They fell into a comfortable silence, occasionally interrupted by a fit of coughs on Santana's part. Her lungs weren't used to the cigarette. It'd been awhile.
A small taxi passed the street adjacent to them. A memory struck her. "Uh. Brenda, is it?" The woman nodded. "Thanks for um, lending me that taxi the other morning. It helped a lot."
Santana wasn't used to thanking people, hopefully she didn't sound like an idiot. She certainly felt like one.
"No problem." Was the woman's simple reply.
They stayed in that position until Santana was done with her cigarette. The tobacco completely cleared her mind from all troubles and musings. She felt nothing but relief.
"So, I'll be heading in." Brenda kicked back against the stone and walked forward.
"Oh. Okay." An ounce of her previous panic settled back into her heart. Was she now suppose to go back to her room? With Brittany? The thought scared her and she gulped.
Brenda seemed to read Santana's inner panic. "Wanna come up to my place? For the night?"
It wasn't a question the brunette was expecting. Her brows shot up to her hairline and she struggled to form words. Her instinctual answer would be 'No, it's alright', but thankfully, she gave it a second thought.
"That'd be awesome."
As they made their way upstairs, Santana thought over her actions. Was Brenda expecting sex? She really wasn't giving off the vibes, thank God. Wouldn't it be weird to be in an apartment of someone who recently gave you their number and not expect sex?
Has she ever been in another woman's place without having sex?
She seriously needed to reevaluate her life. Like Brittany.
Fuck, Brittany...
"I'm sorry if the place is all messy. Wasn't expecting anyone tonight." Brenda opened the door and revealed an apartment slightly larger than her own. It had the same structure, but with an extra room.
Santana wondered why she was cursed with the shittiest apartment in the complex.
"Make yourself at home. I'm just going to turn the heater on." Brenda disappeared down the hall, leaving Santana to observe the place.
Except, she wasn't doing much observing when her heart continuously pounded against her rib cage, practically screaming at her on how utterly wrong this whole idea suddenly seemed.
"Do you want to sleep now, or...?" Brenda looked extremely happy. As if she couldn't believe her luck Santana was there and willing to spend the night.
It wasn't right.
"I, uh..." God, think, think, think...
"Unfortunately, I only have one bed. You can take it and I can sleep on the couch. Unless you don't mind sharing." Brenda added, coyly.
Clearly, she planned this from the moment they entered. Any respectful person wouldn't allow Brenda to sleep on the cold, hard couch, and offer to share the one bed. Santana was basically stuck.
In any other situation, everything would be okay. She'd share and cuddle with this stranger. Even fuck her.
But, dammit, she just basically made love to her roommate. Her sweet, loving, and caring roommate, who was probably still sleeping in bed, naked, dreaming of unicorns and happy endings. Her roommate, who probably expects to wake up sleepily to an equally drowsy Santana, basking in the morning lights, recalling memories of their treasured night.
But here she was, not even three hours after they had sex, in another woman's apartment. Planning to go to sleep on the same bed.
It felt like cheating.
She was fucking cheating on Brittany.
"I need to go."
Brenda blinked, and then laughed disbelievingly. "Sorry?"
"This was...a mistake. I need to- Thanks, but no thanks." With that, she turned around quickly and dashed out.
Brittany was fucking waiting for her.
When she entered the apartment, not even two minutes later, it was uncharacteristically cold. Don't get her wrong, it was always fucking chilly, but given the circumstances of the night, she'd expect it to be a lot warmer and reeking of sex.
There was no sign of Brittany in the living room, or any sign of her presence in the past hour.
She entered the hallway and nudged her bedroom door open, slightly. The sight revealed to her caused her body to slump and her mouth to escape a sigh.
Brittany was tangled up in the sheets, head sunken into Santana's previous side of the pillow, as if she was breathing the brunette's scent in her absence. Her knees were drawn close to her chest, and it was obvious the blonde was cold.
She entered the bedroom with purpose. Her hand reached for her own comforter. She crossed the room to the other side and gently covered Brittany's bare body with it, making sure every inch of smooth skin was covered in warmth.
It was too soon. Too soon to crawl in bed and hold her. Santana wasn't ready. She didn't know if she ever will be. Or what she was exactly getting ready for. But, it was progress. She acknowledged that. It was progress just by being there and not in some random chicks bed. It was progress for her to place a comforter over the blonde's lithe body, to pull back her hair and kiss her cold forehead.
Santana could feel it within her. Something was changing inside of her. It was extremely scary, but she accepted it.
Hard not to when Brittany smiled and scrunched her nose up like that whilst asleep.
Fucking adorable.
"Santana? Santana?"
Her first thought when she woke up the next morning was an onslaught of curses. She was having a fucking awesome dream. Something about a female dominated society and-
"Are you awake?" Brittany's voice broke her pointless thoughts. Predictably, it also eased her rage.
"Obviously." She sat up, rubbing her eyes, "What time is it?"
"Six."
She fell back onto her pillow and groaned unintelligibly.
"San, how did you end up on your bed?" Britt asked. There was an edge of hurt in her voice that caused Santana's heart to clench in pain.
She resorted to lying. Because saying I panicked, left you, went outside, saw Brenda, smoked, and planned on sleeping with her didn't sit well with her. "Got up to get some water."
Brittany pouted and was about to question further when she smelt something, "Why do smell like cigarettes?"
Her heart raced for an answer, "I- I don't know." Brilliant.
Brittany gave her an odd look, but decided not to push it further, fortunately.
So far their conversation did nothing to erase the frown on Brittany's face. It was a total contrast to what they both felt the previous night. But-
"So," Brittany began. Her frown disappeared suddenly, replaced with a smirk, "I really enjoyed last night and I wanted to tell you that before I went to work."
Santana smiled shyly, "Yeah, me too." Her eyes flickered down to Brittany's lips. It would be so simple to just lean forward and kiss her.
The energy between them was charged with something different. It was no longer lust filled or greedy. The previous night had made a huge impact on their chemistry. She felt passion and emotions Santana had never shared with someone before. Her heart constantly pounded in Brittany's presence.
"I should get going." Brittany announced, standing up. But before so, her head bent down to place a gentle kiss on Santana's forehead. All the blood in her system rushed to a certain point in her body, leaving Santana flustered and light-headed. All because of an innocent kiss.
Brittany smiled once more over her shoulders and then exited their place.
Santana begged Shuester for a full time job, once upon a time. But the bastard insisted it wouldn't help anyone, so he only gave her a part time shift that she was both frustrated and grateful for. She loved having free days, but the fucking money wasn't enough to maintain a healthy lifestyle (well, thank God for Brittany). It was a free day for her that morning.
After Brittany left, she quickly took a shower, ridding herself of any scent of smoke. She mentally cursed herself over and over for not taking a shower when she first came in. How on Earth did Brittany not question her further on the matter was beyond her.
It was a quarter till twelve when she actually made it to the kitchen. She was thinking a protein bar and orange juice will do (Brittany scolded her once for her eating habits and then shoved a pancake in her mouth minutes later).
That was when she noticed it. Brittany's lunch bag.
She paused in her stride towards their fridge, eying the object with confusion. Since when did she eat homemade lunch? Santana seriously thought Brittany bought food out. She shrugged and continued her trip to the orange juice.
But when her hand reached for the box of protein bars, she fell back onto her heels. Her eyes lingered once again to the forgotten lunch.
Wouldn't Brittany be disappointed when she figures out her lunch wasn't with her? She would probably be starving throughout the day. She actually spent the time to make herself a meal in the morning, and to let all that effort go to waste? It wouldn't be fair for Brittany. And Santana hated a sad Brittany.
Pursing her lips, she thought her sudden decision through before nodding and grabbing the Hello Kitty lunchbox.
Brittany's studio was exactly fifteen minutes away, but in true Santana fashion, it took her about an hour (the bus dropped her off in a location that actually was farther away from the studio than her own apartment).
Nearly three seconds away from kicking the next person who passed her on the sidewalk, she finally made it to the Chang's dance studio.
Her first thought was to enter, drop the lunchbox by Tina's counter and walk out. That plan was completely destroyed upon first glance at what was happening on the dance floor.
Her mouth literally dropped when she saw Brittany dancing. Okay, dancing was an understatement. That was...
She gulped and unconsciously stepped forward until her toes were touching the blue mat.
She had never seen Brittany dance before, in all her time spent with the blonde. Sure, she sometimes broke out into a cute dance routine in the middle of the apartment, but actually seeing her, witnessing her in an actual dancing environment...
The music was blasting in the stereos around the room, a mash-up of two of Britney Spears's songs, a ballad and a fast-paced duet. Everyone else on the mat was kneeling down, watching Brittany and two back up dancers own the floor. The beat of the music flowed through her, her limbs and hips thrusting in precision and effortless talent. It wasn't as though Brittany was dancing to the music, the music was playing to her dancing.
Her roommate practically glided across the mat before stopping just as the last note was played. The room erupted in applause.
Santana jumped in surprise before joining in on the well-deserved applause. She felt herself smiling brightly at her equally cheerful roommate who continued bowing over and over again. When Brittany turned to bow towards Santana's direction, her eyes caught dark brown. She did a double take at first, but her face broke into a wide smile when Santana waved.
"Hey! What are you doing here?" Brittany exclaimed, jogging up to Santana a few minutes later.
Santana lifted the lunchbox and waved it between them, "You forgot this," Brittany mouth fell open, "Thought you'd be a bit disappointed once you realized it wasn't with you."
Brittany grimaced, "I always forget little things like this. Thanks, though," she gathered Santana into a hug, "You didn't have to come all the way here just for a silly sandwich."
The brunette sighed into the hug, loving the feeling of her roommate pressed tightly against her, "It was worth it. Especially seeing that dance."
They broke apart and Brittany settled the bag on the table. Santana watched her face closely, the sweat slowly trickling down her temple, her slightly pink tinted cheeks that Santana wasn't sure was from the heat or something else. The sight was oddly arousing. She bit her lip and stepped back.
"Did you like it?" Brittany asked enthusiastically.
"I've never seen you dance and I don't know what took me so long. You're amazing." She answered truthfully.
Brittany beamed shyly and lowered her gaze to the ground. Santana really wanted to grab her chin and lift it so she can once again see those bright blue eyes that never failed to make her heart flutter.
Hell, Lopez, want some crackers with that cheese?
"Is there something on my face?" Brittany lifted a hand to her cheek in wonder.
Santana shook her head fast, "No, no, I was just..." Just being an idiot.
And then an odd thing happened: Brittany grabbed her hand.
"So I was wondering..." Brittany swung her left arm, hand caught between two warm hands. Santana was too busy staring at it in shock to decipher any words, "Instead of going back to that lonely apartment, maybe we can grab some lunch together? Santana?"
Santana jumped and snapped her attention back to the curious blonde, "Lunch sounds good!" She didn't realize what she said until it left her mouth, "Wait."
Brittany's expression fell just as fast as it had brightened.
"What about your lunch pack?" Brittany instantly went back to smiling, bouncing on the heels of her feet.
"I'll put it in the fridge for Tina. She's always mooching off my food." Santana rolled her eyes along with Brittany. They smiled bashfully at each other when they noticed each other's actions.
Someone called Brittany's name across the room, breaking their moment. The blonde waved her hand and signaled to some random man by the mat. With that, she turned to Santana, all smiles, "Great! I'll get my stuff and we'll head out." Before Santana could decline her invitation to lunch (because she still hadn't agreed to it), Brittany quickly swooped in and planted a sweet kiss to her cheek, and that was that.
They decided to lounge at a local Panera Bread for Brittany's thirty minute break.
It was when they both sat down on opposite ends of the booth that Santana realized how nervous she was. There going to have an actual conversation, one that will no doubt cover the events of last night. She didn't know if she was ready, or what exactly Brittany wanted from her.
"You're thinking," Brittany quipped.
She leaned back against her seat and mindlessly fondled with a nearby napkin, "I'm not really thinking. More like...wondering."
Brittany adjusted herself so her upper body was almost leaning half way across the table, focusing intently on Santana. "What are you wondering about?" She asked coyly.
Her eyes flickered up to Brittany, silently pleading for the blonde to understand how difficult it was to voice her thoughts. Us, she wanted to answer. It was on the tip of her tongue, but just then, the waiter arrived and placed the food before them. Brittany was eyeing her soup hungrily, hand already reaching for a half sandwich.
Both women said their 'thanks' and watched the waiter walk off. Due to the distraction, Santana lost any ounce of courage. The moment was gone and it left her feeling truly horrible about herself. She honestly didn't know why.
"What were you saying?" Brittany spoke with a bunch of lettuce and chips in her mouth.
Santana giggled softly at the sight, heart clenching. "Nothing, I was just wondering about, you know, college and stuff."
Brittany frowned and placed her sandwich back on the yellow plate. She crossed her hands between them and studied Santana for a moment. Finally, she sighed and said, "I had a cat once. His name was Rootie Tootie."
Santana slowly nodded at this new found information. How many cats did this woman have?
"It died when I was six."
Santana grimaced, "I'm sorry."
She shrugged nonchalantly, "He was my favorite cat. So tiny it could pass as a kitten, but it was older than what Lord Tubbington is now. He was super shy and kind of hard to get on his good side, though. Whenever he wanted something he never made it clear, I always had to figure it out through his actions. If he pooped in the bathroom, he was angry and rebellious. If he was missing for a few days, he felt sad and lonely. It took the entire family years to get him. No one bothered. But I understood him for some reason. It all came down to the fact that no one understood him."
Santana pursed her lips. She didn't want to interrupt Brittany's story. The look on her roommate's face was unreal. How could such a human look that insanely pretty speaking about a dead cat? Her eyes gleamed in unshed tears, and it took every ounce of her power not to reach out and grab her hand.
"He was lonely and scared. All I wanted for him was to be happy. I didn't care how. I wanted Tootie to feel loved and understand that it was the world's greatest feline, that his mom still loved him even though she left him out in the cold. There was still a chance for him in this world only if he opened up."
Brittany gazed up at a silent Santana. "I just hope he died happy. I hope I was a good owner for him."
"You were." And this time, Santana did pluck up the courage to reach out for the blonde's hand. "You are the best anything anyone could ask for. Trust me."
Her other hand covered Santana's. Brittany smiled warmly, "And trust me when I say you deserve all the happiness in the world."
Santana's smile faltered and she finally understood.
"Talk to me."
"I have feelings."
"Yes, I realized that ten years ago after you drank every last drop of my father's alcohol cabinet. You wouldn't stop crying for hours."
Santana narrowed her eyes. She did not remember that... "I mean, I have feelings for my...roommate."
"Say her name." Quinn said over the phone.
Santana pouted and whispered through gritted teeth, "I have feelings for Brittany."
"Atta', girl." She heard Quinn laugh, "Took you long enough. What happened?"
The brunette sighed and collapsed on the couch. She wasn't afraid of revealing everything to Quinn, the blonde was her best friend. It was still nerve-wrecking, though. "A lot of shit. I've just...I can't stop thinking about her lately. And it's those in your face, never going away thoughts. The other day we..." She didn't know how to describe that particular night to Quinn. Calling it sex was demeaning, but saying 'they made love' out loud made everything seem so real. "The other day we slept together and it was different. Like sensual and not frantic. It totally changed everything. And today we had coffee and talked and she told me this depressing story about Rootie Tootie the kitten cat. And Quinn, I think I'm the reincarnation of her cat." Santana paused, brows furrowed, "That doesn't even make sense. Forget I said that. Ugh..."
Quinn hummed on the other line, indicating she was all ears. She understood Santana's struggle with words, so she tried her best to play the part of a patient friend.
"I feel like we're both on the same page, waiting for something even bigger to happen for us to finally...I don't know." She groaned, throwing her head into her hands, "What if she doesn't like me back?"
"She does like you back, like being an understatement." Quinn answered.
"How do you know?"
"Because women are only nice to you for two reasons, one, they're afraid of you or, two, they've got a serious girl crush."
A look of complete wonder washed over the brunette's face, "Oh my god, you're right."
"Well, yeah." Her best friend said smugly. "And before you ask, I'm an exception. Actually, I'm pretty sure you were scared of me at first. And then you started crushing on me."
Santana gasped in horror, "Fucking not true! I only chose to be second in command for the Cheerios because it was too much pressure and bad for my skin. Plus, you're white and we all know how racist that bitch of a school was." Complete lie. Quinn had a thing over her in high school and maybe even now. While Santana was always a bitch, always seeking control and power, Quinn was always a step ahead of her in that department. Her strive for perfection gave Santana a headache. The brunette was content being a follower for a period of time, stealing secret glances under her peers' Cheerio skirts. Quinn had all the attention. She was meant for the role of Head Cheerleader and not even Santana could have, or wanted to, overthrow her.
"Ah, so you admit you had a crush on me?" Quinn quipped, bringing Santana back to reality.
She rolled her eyes, "Obviously. Didn't you figure it when I practically forced you to make out with me so we could practice for the boys?"
She heard Quinn struggle to find a good comeback and save face. "Whatever, we're going off topic and if I don't solve your problems, you're never going to let me go." Santana rolled her eyes, "Why are you so unwilling to just ask her out, anyway?" Quinn asked as though she just realized this whole subject was a waste of her time, which it probably was, "You're out and proud. Your parents accept you. Nothing in the world is preventing you from being with this chick, so why?" Quinn was practically begging by the end, exasperated.
Santana couldn't believe she had to repeat herself, "Because I'm afraid she doesn't like me! Or only see's me as a best friend or something. I'm afraid of commitment! Of attachment! She's just like me too, Quinn. She probably hasn't had a boyfriend for ever and how can I just expect her to let everything go and be with a worthless idiot like me?"
"...Because she already did?" Quinn slowly stated, "Remember? Letting go of the one night stands...only sleeping with you?"
Santana growled and tightened her grip on the phone, "It's just not that simple. Yes, I'm a flaming lesbian and she's as probably bisexual, but this isn't high school. This is the real life. She's my roommate. Any mistake, any miscommunicating, and that's it. It's either going to be so awkward in this apartment that I'll suffocate from it, or she'll leave for good. I...Quinn, I can't let that happen. She can't leave, I..." Santana took a deep breath, tears building in her eyes, "She's the only good thing in my life and I need her."
Quinn was silent on the other end. Santana would have thought the line disconnected if it weren't for the steady, calm breathing coming through. Finally, when Quinn spoke, Santana felt as though her last hope had been destroyed.
"I know you're going to kill me for saying this, Santana, but there's nothing I can do. I can only advise you to follow your heart. Whatever you do, just...don't ignore it."
That was possibly the world's most worthless piece of advice, Santana decided.
When Brittany arrived home that evening, Santana was surprised.
"You're not going out?" She asked over her shoulder. Brittany was hanging her coat on the rack.
"Out for what?" Brittany looked genuinely confused.
Santana asked herself the question too when she suddenly remembered that Brittany no longer did the whole clubbing thing. It was the first night since her declaration.
Truthfully, the thought of Brittany being home and not out there, where a repeat of the other night could happen again, was reassuring. No random, greasy men clogging up her apartment. And more importantly: no random, greasy men touching her precious roommate. Her mood suddenly lightened and she allowed herself to bask in the contentedness not previously there. She wasn't aware of the silly smile lingering on her face when Brittany called her out on it.
"Did you order porn again?"
She blanched, "No...that's Tuesdays, sweetie."
She heard Brittany giggle and walk around the couch, plopping herself right next to Santana. The brunette turned the television off and focused her attention to blue eyes.
A moment passed between them where no words were spoken. There really was no room for talking when their eyes were speaking all that needed to be said. Santana let her gaze travel across smooth skin, memorizing each individual freckle, locking gazes with crystal orbs. Her heart felt at ease, as though she could sit here for a million years and never get bored staring at such beauty. Brittany's smile was slowly growing as she too was lost in Santana's eyes.
"I want to take you out." Brittany spoke up after a few minutes.
Santana gulped, feeling herself growing anxious fast.
"Relax, relax," Brittany scooted up to place a hand on Santana's cheek, "Let's just get out of here. It's karaoke night in one of the clubs by the port, we can check it out. If you want."
It was in her nature to decline any invitation, but the honest, open gaze Brittany was piercing her with shot down any objections, "I'm not singing, though."
Brittany smirked, "Sure, Lopez."
I have a request from you guys. And this is all just for fun, if you want to participate. I want you guys to submit any prompt for this fic. Specifically a kink prompt. I guess I'm running out of ideas for smut. I'll choose the best two prompts and somehow incorporate it into the story line. So go ahead and request any sex scenario in the reviews for our two favorite characters. This story is over halfway done so I want to end it with some nice scenes. Be creative! Love you guys!
