"You're cute," Brittany said, plopping a wad of ice cream onto Santana's nose with her finger.

Santana wrinkled her nose. "Cold."

Brittany giggled, then licked the ice cream off. "Yum."

"Britt, this is disgusting," Santana said, looking down at the tub of ice cream in her arms. "Why are we eating ice cream for breakfast?"

"I always eat ice cream for breakfast."

"That doesn't mean it's not gross."

Brittany looked hurt. "You're not cute anymore, Santana."

Santana frowned. Brittany calling her by her full name was never a good sign.

"Well, I mean," Santana started to babble, searching her mind for something good to say that would redeem herself, "I like gross things." Santana frowned again, this time at the words that tumbled out of her mouth. What the fuck, Santana?

Brittany cast her both a judgmental and concerned sideways glance, more judgmental than concerned, and more concerned for Santana's mental well-being than anything else.

Santana sighed resignedly. Eliciting a what-the-fuck-look from Brittany was no easy feat. You had to be really messed up for Brittany, of all people, to look at you like that. Eager to be in Brittany's good graces again, Santana jabbed the spoon they were sharing into the tub of ice cream and scooped a large chunk of vanilla ice cream out. Then she lifted it to Brittany's lips with a hopeful smile on her face.

Brittany glanced at Santana and opened her mouth with a roll of her eyes. "Only because I want ice cream," she explained.

"Okay," Santana said, sliding the spoon into Brittany's mouth.

Brittany smiled with her eyes closed. "Mmm."

"Britt," Santana said, "you have some on your mouth." She pointed to the corner of her own mouth, indicating where the ice cream was on Brittany.

Brittany, of course, licked at the other corner of her mouth, and Santana couldn't help but let out a little laugh.

Brittany glared at her. "I'm still mad at you, Santana."

Damn that full name. "I know," Santana said, "but that doesn't change the fact that you're adorable."

"Mmph." Brittany was too busy proving her anger that she completely forgot to clean off the ice cream.

As Brittany looked spitefully away from Santana, Santana seized her chance to surprise Brittany by leaning in quickly and kissing where the ice cream was on Brittany's mouth, licking it clean in the process.

Brittany yelped a little, not expecting the sudden kiss, then quickly returned to adorable angry mode. "You think you're smooth, don't you?" she asked Santana.

Santana smiled and shrugged. "Maybe."

Brittany snorted. "Well, you're not."

"Really?" Santana asked slowly as she edged closer and closer to Brittany's face, licking her lips the entire time. "Is that why you're staring at my lips?" she asked smugly.

Brittany quickly jerked her eyes up. "I don't know what you're talking about."

"Oh?" As she said this, Santana scooped some more ice cream from the tub and brought the spoon up to her mouth. Then, she put on a performance for Brittany. Slowly, she licked at the lump of ice cream, moaning exaggeratedly for effect. "Mmm, this tastes so good." She smirked when she saw Brittany gape in response. After a few more licks, she wrapped her lips around the whole spoon and then seductively dragged the spoon out of her mouth. Brittany swallowed hard, her line of sight shifting rapidly from Santana's mouth to the spoon and back again. "Hm," Santana mused, "it looks like the spoon is still dirty." She licked at it again. And again. And again.

Brittany let out a ragged cough. "I think it's…uh, clean, Santana."

"So you are staring at my lips."

"No, I'm not!"

"Oh, yeah?" Santana challenged. Before Brittany knew what was happening, Santana had already slipped her fingers into Brittany's underwear. "Then why are you all wet?"

"Ugh, screw you, Santana!"

Santana smiled and kissed Brittany. "You know I'm just playing with you."

Brittany pouted. "Why do you always win?"

"Because you love me."

"Sometimes, I hate being so crazily in love with you."

Santana chuckled. "See, Britt-Britt, if you had won, we wouldn't be doing this." When she said "this," she slid two fingers into Brittany, smirking at Brittany's response.

Brittany's response was a gasp—a very satisfied gasp.

"It's good that I always win, isn't it?" Santana asked.

With Santana's fingers curling inside her and moving faster by the minute, Brittany could barely make out a response. Yet, somehow, she managed to pant, "Just shut up and fuck me, Santana."

Santana was more than happy to do so.