Santana was awoken by a phone call in the morning at 7 a.m. Training didn't start till 2 p.m. in the afternoon, and all her friends knew better than to call her this early in the morning... Groaning, she debated pulling the blankets over her head and going back to sleep, but the phone wouldn't stop ringing – and she had a nagging feeling that this could be important. She sighed and stumbled out of bed, nearly stubbing her toe on her bedside table in the process. She groped around for her phone in the semi-darkness of her room with the curtains drawn.
"Hello?" Came Quinn's unmistakable voice at the end of the line. Santana's spirits lifted immediately at the sound. A grin was already tugging at the corners of her lips.
"Hey Quinn," She said cautiously. "What's up?"
"I'm going for a jog around Central Park. Wanna come?"
Santana nearly choked with relief. She smiled, then remembered she was supposed to be annoyed about getting up so early. "Are you insane, Fabray? Who goes on jogs at 7 a.m. in the morning on the same day they have fucking training in the afternoon?"
"Me," Quinn said chirpily, if somewhat unnecessarily.
Santana laughed. "Me too, apparently. See you there in fifteen minutes." She hung up and headed to the bathroom, still grinning like an idiot.
...
"You look good," Santana said, unable to stop herself from staring appreciatively. Quinn had tied her hair back in a messy ponytail, and was wearing a dark blue tank top and a pair of running shorts that exposed her beautifully toned legs.
"Let me know when you're done objectifying me and we can start running," Quinn said, raising an eyebrow in amusement.
Santana gulped and tore her eyes away. "W-was just uh, n-nice running shorts. Where didja get them?"
Quinn laughed. "You look good too, Lopez," She said softly, blushing slightly. Santana waggled her eyebrows smugly and smirked. Quinn swatted her. "Full loop around the park," She said, taking off before Santana could respond. "Loser buys breakfast!" She called out jauntily behind her. Santana shook her head, sighed, and took off after Quinn.
Santana and Quinn were neck-to-neck for the first six miles, occasionally overtaking the other only to fall behind a few minutes later. They went at a blistering pace: both women were in tip-top physical condition and competitive as hell. Neither one of them wanted to lose - this was what they did for a living, after all. Santana glanced over at Quinn, who was breathing heavily and slightly red in the face. Quinn caught her eye and picked up her pace. They began their last mile at a ridiculous sprint. Santana's breaths were coming in quick gasps.
As they neared the gates, Santana's lips curled upwards in a smile that was nothing short of diabolical. Quinn glanced over suspiciously just in time to see Santana slide her black shirt up and off her body completely. She bunched it up in her right hand and continued to run, shooting Quinn an evil grin.
Shit. Quinn stumbled and nearly tripped over her own feet. Santana's lean body, beautifully tanned skin and devilish grin made Quinn falter. "That's cheating!" She yelled, trying to get her feet to move in the same direction. With great difficulty, she regained motor function and partial control over her thoughts. Santana had already widened the gap to fifty meters. Quinn cursed and increased her pace as much as she could without flat out killing herself, taking care to keep her eyes away from Santana's bare upper body.
Santana flew past the entrance to Central Park five steps ahead of her and came to a shuddering halt just outside the gates. She stopped, doubled up, and took deep, shuddering breaths, evidently too exhausted to celebrate. Quinn grabbed her sweaty arm with equally sweaty fingers and proceed to drag her backward. "Don't stop so suddenly," She panted, "You'll get a heart-attack." Santana sighed and jogged a short distance back into the Park with Quinn by her side.
Until she wasn't. Quinn broke away, cackling maniacally, sprinting at full speed back towards the entrance of Central Park. Santana, stunned, could only watch as she raised her hands in victory, yelling, "I win!"
Santana shook her head and ran after her. "No you don't! No matter how you see it, I passed through those gates first!"
"Ahaha doesn't count, doesn't – oof!" Santana enveloped her mouth with a big, sloppy kiss.
She pulled away slightly to catch her breath, her face still inches away from Quinn's. "Yes it does," Quinn said, pulling Santana back in for another fierce kiss. Quinn threaded her fingers into Santana's long dark hair, and leaned in hungrily, deepening the kiss. She ran her hand downwards along the length of Santana's glorious bare body, humming in honest appreciation. Quinn's fingers explore Santana's body unabashedly, fingers sweeping upward until they brush the fabric of Santana's bra. Santana gasps and presses her body even harder against Quinn's.
They finally pulled away, still breathless and panting with desire. Santana's eyes shone with an emotion that Quinn couldn't quite decipher.
"You're buying," Quinn said finally, when she'd recovered enough to speak.
Santana pulled on her shirt and frowned. "Huh?"
"You lost. You're buying. There's this really great brunch place nearby...C'mon, I'll show you-" Quinn took her hand and tugged on it impatiently.
Santana laughed and shook her head in exasperation. "I did not lose," She clarified huffily, allowing herself to be dragged excitedly down the street all the same.