Sup y'all. You get an early chapter this week cause I'm away visting the bff on Wednesday and Thursday, which are my normal writing days :)
I've barely checked this over, cause I'm like half asleep at this point, but I hope you like it all the same :)
Fic recs for you: The Journal by silverdoe14 updated and it's flawless. Room 47 by LittleNormandy updated as well, and seriously if you like Brittana and aren't reading that, get on it :P Also A Spanner In The Works, You Know by acidglue234 is really good and I highly recommend :D
Hope you enjoy, and leave a review if you're feeling kind :P
CHAPTER TWELVE
Santana is happy for Quinn. She is, really. Quinn deserves to be happy after her string of destructive relationships in high school and the beginning of college, followed by her transformation into a celibate nun for the past few years.
Santana guesses she's happy for Rachel as well. The dwarf might get on her nerves more than any human being should be capable of, but she's glad Rachel's finally found someone that makes her happy.
But if she walks into her own fucking kitchen to see a half naked Rachel perched on the countertop, while an equally half naked Quinn has her tongue down her throat instead of making breakfast one more time, forget Lima Heights, she's going to go all Texas Chainsaw on them.
"Good morning Santana!" Rachel trills once they've finally detached themselves, and Santana just grunts in reply, grabbing a mug out of the cupboard and shuffling over to the coffee machine.
It's been just over a week since the night at Corcoran's where Santana totally didn't serenade Brittany, and she's barely seen the blond since. They've been extremely busy filming commercials for Hollidaze, since Holly is apparently very fussy when it comes to how she looks on camera, and literally the only times Santana is free to see Brittany is during their lunch break, which Santana usually has to cut short to get back to the studio.
Although on Monday's lunch break, Brittany informed Santana of how much she liked their little coffee dates, which almost gave Santana a heart attack. Brittany went to the effort of planning a special date for Santana, that actually meant something, and all Santana can do is give her forty minutes at Starbucks a few times a week. Again, she wonders what the hell Brittany sees in her.
She knows she'll be able to see Brittany on Saturday, when her and Quinn throw their annual Halloween party – which is pretty fucking epic, if Santana does say so herself – but they'll be surrounded by shitloads of people since Quinn appears to have invited half of New York. Their apartment is not that big, Jesus.
Then again, everyone – and by everyone Santana means Quinn – will be hammered, so nobody will notice if Santana and Brittany happen to disappear at the same time.
Anyway.
She wants to take Brittany on a second date, like a real date, but she has no clue what to do for it. Or even how to ask Brittany. Jesus. Showing a girl a good time, that's what she's good at. All the romantic shit? Not so much.
Santana pours herself a cup of coffee, and gladly accepts the plate of pancakes Quinn hands her, before slumping into a chair at the kitchen table and opening the newspaper. She's munching on the last of the pancakes, reading an article about an art show in Brooklyn that she's tempted to go to, when she realizes how quiet it is.
And with Quinn and Rachel in the same room, when it's quiet, that's when Santana starts to worry.
She looks up, and sees them stood on the other side of the table, staring at her in unison. Terrifying.
"Can I help you?" Santana asks, raising an eyebrow at them over her mug.
Rachel clears her throat, glancing nervously at Quinn, who just gives her a reassuring kiss on the cheek. Nauseating. "Well Santana, taking into account you are Quinn's closest friend, and despite our… Differences, I consider you a close friend as well, and also because you and Quinn happen to live together, we felt you should be the first to know."
"You get her pregnant, Q?" Santana deadpans, smirking at Rachel's annoyed huff and Quinn's awful attempt at hiding a smile.
"Uh no, Santana, however, we are now together. Officially." Quinn continues on from Rachel, holding up their joined hands.
"Fascinating." Santana says, going back to the newspaper.
"That's it?" Rachel squeaks indignantly. "Fascinating?"
Santana rolls her eyes, finishing her coffee and standing up. "Congratulations, whatever, you two are like a match made in annoying gay heaven, and you know I'm happy for you even though I'm never going to say it again." Rachel beams at her, and Santana barges past them, dumping her empty plate and mug in the sink. "But if you ever have sex in my bed, the cops will never find your bodies." She adds on as she walks towards the bathroom, laughing at Rachel's offended Santana! and Quinn's appalled expression.
/
Walking towards the subway, Santana feels horrifically like a third wheel as she tries to block out the disgusting sweet nothings Quinn and Rachel are whispering to each other as they walk along beside her.
Thankfully, Rachel fucks off to walk to wherever she has to be for that Broadway play she auditioned for and obviously got the lead in, and Quinn follows Santana into the subway station, a dreamy look on her face.
"I take it back. You two are revolting." Santana says, and Quinn just rolls her eyes, pulling her phone out of her pocket to read the text Rachel has just sent her. Fucking hell they just saw each other like ten seconds ago.
As usual, Santana chooses to ignore the little voice in her head saying she wouldn't find it so ridiculous if it were she and Brittany. Shaking that thought off, she spies two miraculously empty seats on the train, and drags Quinn over to them, sitting down, and immediately turning to Quinn.
"So, Halloween costume, spill. And please tell me you and Berry aren't coordinating your sure to be terrifying outfits."
Quinn finishes whatever sappy thing she's texting Rachel, puts her phone away and turns to Santana. "I'm not sure yet. Rachel said something about her and Kurt going as Dorothy and the scarecrow from The Wizard of Oz, but I'm not sure if she was being serious." Quinn trails off, looking slightly bemused, apparently only just now realizing how much it would kill your lady boner to see your girlfriend dressed like the bait girl on To Catch A Predator.
"I have no idea either." Santana says, mentally running through costume ideas, discarding ones that cover up too much skin. She has a plan, or rather a revenge plot, to get back at Brittany's little stunt yesterday.
Santana had been enjoying her Tuesday afternoon, quickly filling in Sam's holiday request form for Friday and Saturday so he could visit his cousin who'd just given birth, when Brittany came waltzing into her office, shut the door, straddled Santana on her chair, and informed her of how horny she was.
Of course, Brittany being as evil as she is, kissed Santana silly and worked Santana up until she was soaked, and she was contemplating just rubbing herself against her seat when Brittany disembarked her lap, kissed her on the cheek and said see you later honey, followed up with a wink.
She's convinced Brittany is trying to kill her, so she is going to give as good as she gets, and wear the most suggestive, skin tight, sexy outfit she can find. She knows Brittany likes superheroes and comics and all those nerdy kind of things, after overhearing her and Sam gossiping about which Batman film is the best, so once she gets to the studio and gets rid of Quinn, she plans on Googling superhero outfits.
Then deleting her Internet history.
/
Quinn and Santana arrive at the studio just before 9am, via Starbucks of course. Santana is about to follow Quinn into the elevator when she spies Sam walking through the door.
Telling Quinn she has something to ask Sam, and ignoring her confused look, she instead dashes after Sam into the animation room.
"Hey Trouty, got a minute?"
Sam turns around, looking slightly confused, before pointing to himself. "Me?"
"Yes you." Santana laughs, following him over to his desk and perching on the side of it while he slumps into his seat, switching his computer on.
He looks up at her expectantly, and Santana tries to figure out how to word this so he doesn't suspect anything. He lives with Brittany, and from what Santana gathers they're pretty close, but she's not sure if he knows, or even suspects anything. She knows Brittany won't have told him outright, but Sam isn't as dumb as he looks and might have picked up on something. Like the hickeys Santana is so fond of leaving all over Brittany's neck.
Santana folds her hands into her lap, drumming her fingers on her knees nervously. "I need your expertise with something. And if you tell anyone about this I'll chop your pay check in half." She begins, and Sam looks slightly horrified before she smirks to let him know she's joking. Possibly.
"I need you to give me a list of all the female superheroes you can think of." She mutters out in a rush, and he blinks up at her. "For the Halloween party. Uh, I lost a bet and I have to dress up as a superhero, so you know, I may as well go for some insanely hot chick." She lies, mentally patting herself on the back for quickly making that up.
Sam laughs, and reaches forward to grab a bit of paper and a pen. "You don't have to be embarrassed Santana, superheroes are totally cool."
"If you say so, I won't burst your bubble." Santana says, peering down at Sam's scrawl covering the paper. Jesus Christ she wasn't aware there were this many female superheroes.
Sam eventually finishes his list and hands it up to her. "There you go. Uh, I put a little star next to the ones that are like, super hot, I mean I'm sure you'll look good in whatever you go as, but uh, the starred ones are like, the hottest." He pauses, and Santana raises an eyebrow. "I mean that in like, a totally professional way, uh, one friend to another?" He says, trailing off nervously.
Santana stares at him for a few more seconds, letting him stew in his terror, before she laughs, leaning forward to ruffle his hair. "Sure Sam. Thank you, by the way."
Santana hops off the desk, and is about to walk towards the door when Sam calls her name. "Uh, on Saturday, is Mercedes gonna be there?" He asks, running his hands through his hair nervously.
"Yeah she is." Santana replies, laughing at Sam's fist pump and cheer. Walking towards the elevator, she fires a text off to Mercedes asking about what's going on with her and Sam. Or rather, she phrases it as Sup Wheezy. I want the deets on you and Vagina Lips before you both vanish off on Saturday ;) xx
Mercedes texts her back just as she reaches her office, informing her she's a perv and she wouldn't want to scar Santana with details of hetero sex.
Santana laughs at the text, shrugging her coat off and dumping her bag on the floor next to her chair. She switches her computer on and ignores the few emails she has, instead opening up Google, and typing the first of the superheroes into the image search bar.
/
Half an hour later, Santana's made her way through Sam's list, and has narrowed her choices down to two; Batwoman and Harley Quinn.
In the end, she goes for Batwoman, figuring Harley Quinn's hat is a bit ridiculous, and opens another tab, searching for costume stores in Manhattan. Ten minutes later she's found the perfect outfit that will have Brittany's jaw dropping, and clicks the order button, happily paying the extra fifteen dollars for the express delivery.
Santana cannot wait to see the look on Brittany's face. She gives a passing thought to what Brittany's outfit will be, probably a duck, or something equally as cute. Brittany doesn't really seem the type to play into the whole "dress up like a total slut" Halloween stereotype, but Santana totally wouldn't mind if she did.
She passes the rest of the morning actually doing work, and is interrupted just after noon by a knock on the door, followed by Brittany's head peering round the door.
"Hey, you free for lunch?"
Santana is about to reply with only for you cupcake, but bites it back when a second blond appears in her office.
"Hi Brittany." Quinn looks at the other blond suspiciously before turning to Santana. "Want to go get lunch?"
Santana pauses, looking between the two blonds. She's about to say yes to Quinn and figure out how to apologize to Brittany later, when Quinn asks Brittany if she'd like to join them. Brittany looks slightly shocked, before nodding, and asking if Sam can join them, since she originally had lunch plans with him.
Santana feels an odd surge of arousal at the dual lying to Quinn, but pushes it down. If she's going to be having lunch with her best friend and two of their employees, one of which she's kissed several times, she can't get distracted.
However, when Santana follows Quinn out of her office, Brittany behind her, and the blond "accidentally" brushes her hands against Santana's ass, Santana thinks not getting distracted thing may be harder than she originally thought.
/
Thankfully, she manages to survive lunch, and even manages to keep a straight face when the topic of Halloween comes up.
"Britt, you're coming over early to help set up yeah?" Quinn asks through a mouthful of sandwich, and Santana does her best to keep her choking on her drink silent. Brittany's coming over early? She figured Brittany would arrive with everyone else so Santana could steal her away quickly without Quinn noticing.
Brittany nods, taking a bite of her own sandwich. "Sure am! What are you going as?"
"Not sure yet, probably Superwoman." Quinn replies, and Santana rolls her eyes. Unless she's bought a new one and hasn't bothered telling Santana, the Superwoman costume was bought freshman year of college. It might be a little small on Quinn now. She says as much to Quinn and watches as she turns bright red, mumbling something about Rachel liking it.
Santana bursts out laughing, and Sam glances between them, looking confused. "Wait, Rachel? Are you guys like…?" He trails off, and Brittany turns to look at them, feigning confusion. Santana had already informed Brittany of Rachel and Quinn during one of their coffee dates. Well, Santana had ranted about walking in on them half naked the previous night, and Brittany had laughed and said she thought they were cute.
"Yeah, she's my girlfriend." Quinn says, trying to hide her still red face behind her sandwich. Santana is about to poke fun at the silly smile that spreads across Quinn's face at her statement, but then she sees the way Brittany's looking at her. It's the same affectionate look she saw on Brittany's face when she sang to her the previous week, and Santana can't help but softly smile back, ignoring Sam congratulating Quinn next to her.
They stay in their own little world until Sam says something about being the only straight person at the studio, and Quinn whips round to stare at Brittany. "Britt? I didn't know you were gay?"
As soon as the words are out of her mouth Quinn shoots a suspicious glance at Santana.
Brittany swallows a bite of sandwich. "Uh, I'm not gay. I'm bisexual."
Quinn just nods her head slowly, and Santana distracts herself by taking a sip of her coffee. Christ, she doesn't know if she should be offended or flattered that just because Brittany's bisexual Quinn thinks Santana's tried something.
There's a slightly awkward break in conversation, until Brittany asks Sam what he's going as, and he announces Captain America with a proud grin.
"What about you, Britt? And Santana, what're you going as?" Sam asks, and Santana pauses, waiting for Brittany to answer first.
"I'm not sure." Well that's disappointing. "I have like a load of costumes lying around, but I haven't decided on one yet. What are you going as Santana?" The three blonds stare at Santana, and she pauses, wondering whether or not to say, or to keep it as a surprise for Brittany.
"I'm going as Batwoman." Santana eventually decides to say, since Quinn will probably be nosey and ask why she didn't say when a package arrives tomorrow morning from The Party Store with Santana's name on it.
"You are?" Quinn asks, and Santana nods, taking a bite of her sandwich then proceeding to talk with her mouth full, telling Quinn she only just decided that morning. Sam asks Quinn about her Superwoman outfit, and Santana finishes chewing, glancing over at Brittany, who's typing something on her phone. Sure enough, a few seconds later Santana's phone buzzes in her pocket, and Santana makes sure Quinn and Sam are still preoccupied before opening the text.
Batwoman hmm? I bet you'll look hot :P xxx
Santana breathes a sigh of relief; thankful it's not something too dirty. She doesn't reply, just sends a wink Brittany's way, who blushes in the most adorable way. Quinn and Sam stand up, Sam picking up their empty sandwich wrappers to take over to the trashcan, and Santana and Brittany join them, the three of them putting their coats back on and heading outside, starting the ten minute walk back to the studio.
/
The rest of the day passes quickly, and just before 6pm rolls around, Santana sends a quick text to Brittany, asking her to come up to her office.
A few minutes later, Brittany waltzes into the office, her bag slung over her shoulder, and shuts the door behind her, an amused sparkle in her eye.
"Is this a booty call, Miss. Lopez?" She says in a low voice, and okay, Santana is not prepared for that. She gulps, feeling the first stirrings of arousal low in her stomach as Brittany dumps her bag into the chair the other side of Santana's desk, before walking around and sliding sideways into Santana's lap.
Santana starts to say that it isn't, but stutters, and cuts herself off when Brittany lowers her head to start pressing gentle kisses up the side of Santana's neck, sucking on the earlobe when she reaches Santana's ear.
Santana moans, head tilting back when Brittany nudges at her jaw with her nose, starting to kiss back down her throat, biting gently at Santana's speeding up pulse point.
"Britt, uh, fuck-" Santana groans, getting cut off when Brittany raises her head to kiss Santana. Brittany's tongue slides along Santana's bottom lip, pushing it past her lips to stroke hotly against Santana's. Santana whimpers, sliding her arms around Brittany's waist and trying to lean up to get closer to her.
Brittany tastes even better than usual today. Usually Santana can taste the remnants of the morning's coffee, sometimes mint from her chewing gum, but apparently Brittany's decided to put some kind of flavored lip gloss on, some exotic kind of fruit like mangos or pomegranates that makes her taste sweeter than usual.
Santana kisses her harder, licking her way into Brittany's mouth, and the blond above her just moans, sliding her hands from Santana's shoulders up to her head, tangling her fingers into her hair and scratching them gently against her scalp.
God Brittany feels so fucking good, pressed tightly against her so Santana can feel each ragged breath the blond takes in.
Brittany eventually breaks their kiss, sucking gently on Santana's tongue first and Jesus that's still so hot, and rests her forehead on Santana's. "Thought this wasn't a booty call." She giggles.
Santana snorts. "Well it wasn't, and then you came over here and attacked me. I didn't really have much of a choice."
Brittany giggles again, quickly kissing Santana before leaning back, keeping her arms wrapped around Santana's neck. "So what did you want?" She asks, one hand still wrapped around Santana's shoulder, the other playing with Santana's hair.
Santana gulps, the nerves back at full force in her stomach. Oh God, why is this so hard?
"Yeah, uh, I wanted to ask you something," Santana says, hoping her voice doesn't sound too shaky. It probably does. Brittany just smiles at her, waiting for her to continue. "Um, what are you doing Friday night?"
Brittany pauses in playing with Santana's hair, furrowing her eyebrows as she thinks. "Um, I think I was just gonna stay in, hang out with Sam. Why?" She asks, looking back down at Santana.
"Um, well…" Santana swallows, trying to murder the fucking swarm of butterflies flapping around in her stomach. A tiny smile starts to appear on Brittany's face, like she knows what Santana is awkwardly fumbling her way through doing, and Santana feels heat rush to her cheeks. Thank God blushes don't really show up on her skin.
"If you're not busy, and uh, only if you want to, do you want to, you know, hang out or something?" Santana mumbles, and presses her face into the crook of Brittany's neck in embarrassment when Brittany starts giggling.
She whines the blond's name, and Brittany tries to stop, but Santana can still hear the amusement in her voice when she speaks. "Santana, if that was your attempt at asking me on a date, that was terrible."
Santana groans, and Brittany starts laughing again. "You don't do this often, do you?" The blond questions, and Santana leans back, shaking her head sheepishly.
Brittany grins, and leans forward to kiss Santana gently. "Well I'll save you the embarrassment, and say yes."
"Yes?" Santana echoes, keeping her eyes closed and lips brushing against Brittany's.
"Yes, I will go on a date with you Santana." Brittany confirms, closing the distance to kiss Santana sweetly again.
/
6.30pm on Friday evening Quinn is at Rachel's; on some nauseating date night that probably involves singing. Thank God. Santana has the place to herself, and is currently sitting in a tank top and sweatpants, making herself some dinner. She's meeting Brittany at Times Square at 7.30pm, and this time she's actually planned her outfit out in advance. And by plan out, she means she basically tore her closet apart the previous night, sorting through all her clothes until she settled on the perfect outfit, but that all depends on which definition of plan out you go by.
She's received like a million texts from Brittany, trying to get her to spill about where they're going, but all Santana tells her is that she'll like it and it's somewhere she hasn't visited yet since moving to New York.
She practically inhales her dinner, and hops into the shower, quickly washing her hair with the coconut shampoo Brittany caught a whiff off and said she liked, before dripping water all over the hallway as she walks into her room.
Towelling her body dry, Santana plugs in her hairdryer and glances towards her bed when her phone beeps loudly from its position on her pillow. It's a text from Brittany, shockingly enough, and Santana can't help the goofy smile on her face as she reads it.
Pleeeeeeease tell me where we're going :) pretty please with whipped cream and a cherry on top? Xxx
Santana types back, saying she's still not telling Brittany, and she has to stop herself from adding on that the only place she wants whipped cream is on Brittany's abs for her to lick off. She doesn't doubt that Brittany will find it funny, but the less she thinks about licking Brittany's abs, the easier this date will be, at least in terms of controlling herself.
It takes her about fifteen minutes to do her hair, blow drying it, curling it, and spraying half a can of hairspray onto it, putting a bit of make up on afterwards. She spends five minutes looking for her favorite lip gloss before realizing she's left in at the studio, another five minutes swearing to herself about it, and a third five minutes hunting around her room for another tube.
Once Santana eventually locates some, she quickly tugs her outfit on, the dropping temperatures outside meaning she decides to opt for some black jeans – skin tight of course – and a low cut red top. She pulls her favorite boots on, lacing them up at the front, and then picks up her leather jacket, grabbing her phone, her keys and her bag, before leaving her apartment, hailing a cab, and heading for Times Square.
/
Brittany looks slightly confused when Santana informs her they have to get the subway to their date's destination, and then slightly put out when Santana tells her it'll take like an hour to get there, but Santana promises her she'll like it, and it doesn't seem to bother her too much, she just shrugs, says okay and entwines her fingers with Santana's, dragging her over to the steps down to the subway station.
They spend the fifty minute subway ride playing I Spy – Brittany's idea – and making up backgrounds and stories for the people coming on and off the train – Santana's idea – and when they finally get off the subway, Santana thanks God Brittany doesn't know this part of New York enough to realize where they are.
The way Brittany's entire beautiful face lights up when she spots the giant ferris wheel towering over the rest of Coney Island makes Santana melt, and the entire uncomfy subway ride worth it.
"Santana! Oh my God, are we going-" Brittany doesn't finish her sentence, just points excitedly to the signs pointing towards the amusement park, and Santana nods, a massive smile breaking out over her face at Brittany's cheer. The blond is literally the cutest thing Santana has ever seen.
They walk, or rather Brittany drags Santana, towards the amusement park's entrance, almost skipping in excitement. Santana pays for them to get in, and for ride wristbands, and asks Brittany what she wants to go on first.
The blond looks slightly overwhelmed by the choice of rides, so Santana laughs and takes her hand, dragging her towards the queue for the Haunted House. She figures if she's paid for all this she may as well go on the one ride she thinks she'll genuinely enjoy.
She might also just want to have Brittany clinging onto her in the dark if the blond gets scared, but that doesn't matter.
/
As it turns out, Santana enjoys most of the rides Brittany demands they go on.
Santana insists on the ferris wheel being left for last, mostly because she wants to be all romantic and sweet and kiss Brittany at the top of it, but it's difficult when Brittany keeps gazing up at it longingly, and Santana feels more of a bitch than usual when she tugs Brittany over to the Cyclone Rollercoaster
However, when Brittany decides to bust out The Pout, Santana's a fucking goner.
The triumphant giggle that comes from Brittany when Santana sighs out an okay Britt like two seconds after Brittany pouts at her and asks if they can go on the ferris wheel makes her think that Brittany has probably figured out what that damn pout does to her.
Once they're on the ferris wheel and it's set off, lifting them off the ground slowly, Brittany scoots as close as she can to Santana, lifting her left arm to wrap around Santana's shoulders, her right sliding into Santana's lap to tangle their fingers together. Santana cuddles as close as she can to the blond, resting her head against Brittany's shoulder, and she lets her eyes fall closed as Brittany gently presses her lips to Santana's cheek.
Christ she could definitely get used to this.
"Thank you, Santana." Brittany whispers into her ear, and Santana twists round to kiss Brittany fully, sucking on her bottom lip until she moans, her mouth opening fully so Santana can push her tongue inside. Santana lets go of Brittany's hand, bringing them up to cup Brittany's cheeks and the blond whimpers against the assault of Santana's lips, sliding her arms around Santana's body, hugging her closer.
The carriage jolts to a halt, breaking them apart, and Brittany looks at Santana with such affection that Santana feels her heart start thumping madly. "Really, San, thank you so much. Nobody's ever…" She trails off, glancing off to the side, a slight blush covering her cheeks.
"Nobody's ever what, Britt?" Santana asks, stroking her fingers against the insanely soft skin of Brittany's face.
Brittany takes a deep breath, gently letting it out before returning her gaze to Santana's. "Just, nobody's ever made me feel like this before."
Santana's heart skips a beat, and she feels the annoying butterflies return with a vengeance. Nobody's ever made Brittany feel like what before? Santana's starts thumping double time when she wonders if Brittany could possibly be falling in love with her as well. She's about to ask like what when Brittany laughs, and speaks again. "God, that's probably the cheesiest thing I've ever said."
Santana laughs, because fuck does she know that feeling. "I dunno Britt, you did say you wouldn't mind being my hero. That's pretty cheesy."
Brittany flushes, her cheeks getting redder as she mumbles about trying to be sweet. Santana giggles, kissing Brittany on the cheek as the carriage starts to move again. It pauses one more time before they reach the top, and when they do, Brittany lets out a breathless sigh, staring around her in awe. To their left, the Atlantic stretches out in a huge black mysterious looking mass, and the to their right Coney Island's boardwalk and the rest of Brooklyn is lit up like a Christmas tree, illuminating Brittany's already gorgeous face in the best way.
"Wow." Brittany says, sounding awestruck. "It's beautiful."
"Yeah, you are." Santana says, and Christ if that isn't a cliché out of every single fucking romcom ever, she doesn't know what is.
She forgets to care about what a sap she's turned into when Brittany ducks her head shyly, smiling at Santana from under her eyelashes. Brittany quickly digs into her pocket, whipping out her phone and nearly elbowing Santana in the face, and opens the camera app.
"What are you doing Britt?" Santana asks, when Brittany just yanks her closer and holds the phone up, the reverse camera showing up with their faces.
"We don't have any photos together. This needs to change." Brittany says like it should be obvious, and Santana just rolls her eyes, waiting while Brittany finds the perfect angle for the phone so the lights of Coney Island are in the background.
Brittany snaps a few photos, one of them smiling, one of Brittany kissing Santana on the cheek, and one of Santana kissing Brittany on the cheek. Something jolts in Santana's stomach when they show up on her phone, after asking Brittany to send them to her, as she realizes what a couple thing it is to do, to take cute photos together like this.
Ignoring that still terrifying thought, Santana takes Brittany's hand as they climb out of the carriage, and Brittany announces she wants something to eat.
There's a little ice cream shop about a five minute walk down the boardwalk, and Santana is about to tell Brittany this when she spots one of those knock all the bottles down with this tiny bean bag and win a stuffed toy you could buy at the dollar store stalls. This particular overpriced arcade, has stuffed toy ducks.
Santana quickly thinks of how to get rid of Brittany, asking her if she has to pee before they leave, which thankfully she does, so she points Brittany in the direction of the toilets, before dashing over to the arcade. The chubby boy behind the counter leers at Santana's chest as he asks what she'd like.
"How many bottles do you have to knock over to win one of the ducks?" She asks through gritted teeth, trying to tame the urge to slap him.
"All of 'em." The boy replies in a strong Brooklyn accent, only briefly lifting his eyes away from Santana's chest.
Fucking hell. Santana hands over five dollars, and he hands her back three beanbags, one of which has a dubious stain on it. Fantastic.
Santana flings the first one towards the stack of bottles, missing them completely and smacking into the back wall. The second one flies slightly closer, but still misses. The third one hits the topmost bottle, knocking it and the second row of bottles down, but leaving the three bottom ones still standing. Fucking hell.
"Better luck next time." The boy comments, bending over to pick the beanbags up, and Santana groans.
"Wait, let me try again." Santana says, digging around for another five dollar bill. The boy returns the beanbags to her, and she picks the first one up, hurling at the bottles. Again, it misses completely, and Santana swears under her breath. The second one smashes straight into the bottom row, knocking almost all over them over. Santana glares at the single bottle left standing, and prays she hits it.
She flings the third beanbag at the bottle, and thank fuck, it hits it, sending it flying off the table. She cheers, just managing to stop herself from fist pumping or something equally as lame, because she's 24 for fuck's sake, and grins like a lunatic when the boy hands her one of the stuffed ducks with a bored sounding congratulations, I hope you enjoyed your time here at Coney Island.
Santana spots Brittany coming back through the crowd, and dashes up to her, hiding the duck behind her back.
"Hey San, can we- what are you hiding?" Brittany asks suspiciously, trying to peek around Santana's body. Santana presents the little stuffed duck to Brittany with a flourish and a smile, and she thinks her heart may have stopped at the look on Brittany's face.
Brittany stares at the duck in shock for a second, glancing up at Santana in question. Santana just nods, smiling wider at the grin that tugs at Brittany's lips. Her entire face lights up, her wide smile hitting her eyes as she takes the duck out of Santana's hands, before launching herself at Santana, wrapping her up in a hug.
"You're amazing." Brittany breathes out into Santana's ear, and Santana nearly melts. God she loves her so much. Santana feels like it should scare her, the depth of her feelings for Brittany, but right then, with arms wrapped around each other and a little toy duck squished between them, she couldn't give a fuck.
/
Brittany falls asleep on the subway ride back to Manhattan, curled into Santana's side as best she can in the cramped seats, her head resting on Santana's shoulder.
Santana is staring at her, wondering how the fuck she got so lucky when she realizes something. Sam lives with Brittany. Sam is in Tennessee tonight. Therefore Brittany's apartment will be empty the whole night.
Her heart stutters, and heat starts pooling low in her stomach when she thinks of the many ways they could pass the time if Brittany were to invite her to stay over.
Along with the arousal though, are nerves. Any other time, Santana wouldn't be nervous about the prospect of having sex with someone at all. And yeah she can talk a big game about being amazing in bed and being able to get any girl she wants, but Brittany is like nobody else she's ever met. Santana cares about her more than she's ever cared about anyone else, and she wants it to be special. She just wants to be worthy of Brittany.
And of course there's the small matter that she loves Brittany, and the last person she loved and had sex with was Spencer, so Santana doesn't exactly have the best track record of combining sex and feelings.
She wants to stop comparing the two, Brittany is nothing like Spencer and Santana knows it, but she can't help it. She's had six years of running away the second feelings got involved, of assuming everyone is going to hurt her like Spencer did, of not letting anyone in, and old habits are pretty hard to break.
But she's willing to try, for Brittany.
God she's so whipped.
The train jerks to a halt a few stops before Times Square, and Brittany jerks awake, blinking sleepily up at Santana, sitting up straighter and running a hand through her hair. She's simultaneously really cute and really hot, and Santana is slightly torn between wanting to wrap the blond up in a hug and wanting to pounce on her the minute they get somewhere semi-secluded.
"Oh God, did I fall asleep on you? I'm sorry, I'm like the worst date company ever."
Santana giggles, leaning forward to press a kiss to the side of Brittany's confused looking face. "It's fine Britt. You look cute when you sleep." Santana is aware of how creepy that possibly sounds, but Brittany doesn't seem to mind, grinning goofily back at Santana as the train lurches and starts moving again. "So, um, did you have a good time tonight?" Santana asks, dropping her gaze from Brittany's and fiddling with the sleeve of her jacket, nerves assaulting her stomach again.
Brittany's hand appears in Santana's vision, taking hold of the fingers nervously tugging at the hem of the jacket's sleeve. Santana sighs gently, the warmth of Brittany's hand warding off some of the nerves. She glances up into bright blue eyes, and watches as Brittany smiles softly at her.
"I had the best time with you Santana." Brittany whispers, despite the fact there's hardly anyone around them in the carriage. "Thank you, really. Best second date ever." She smiles, and giggles after echoing Santana's sentiments about their first date.
The train pulls into Times Square and they exit the train, walking up the steps into the busy New York streets. Santana checks her phone for the time, and seeing that it's only 10.30pm, she turns to Brittany, asking what she wants to do.
Brittany looks thoughtful for a moment, and then beams at Santana. "Do you want to come over? I can make you my world famous hot chocolate."
Santana laughs. "World famous?"
"Well, Sam and Tina famous." Brittany mumbles, blushing slightly, and Santana nods before she can think about it, following Brittany over towards a cab.
/
Santana gets rid of her jacket once she gets into Brittany's apartment, which thankfully isn't as Arctic as it was last time she was here. Brittany kicks her shoes off and she scampers over to the kitchen, and as Santana leans one hand on the door to keep her balance while she takes her boots off, she's hit with a very nice memory of last time she was in contact with Brittany's front door.
To be more precise, when she was pressed up against it with Brittany's lips sucking at her throat, and Brittany's hands trying to tug her blazer off.
Said expensive blazer is no longer wrinkled, so Santana supposes she can forgive Brittany for it.
Santana walks over to the kitchen, watching in amusement as Brittany yanks two mugs out of a cupboard, before producing a pan and setting it on the cooker, pouring some milk into the pan and switching it on.
Brittany spins around fixing Santana with a seductive look, and Santana gulps. Without her boots on, she realizes Brittany actually has quite a few inches on her, and she feels her heart rate start to pick up as the blond stalks towards her, backing her up until she's pressed against the countertop.
Brittany leans forward, her hands coming to rest on the counter either side of Santana's body, trapping her. Santana's thumping heartbeat drops to between her legs when Brittany's gaze falls to her lips, and before Brittany renders her incapable of speech, she speaks up. "Uh, what about the milk Britt?"
"It takes like twenty minutes to boil, cause Sam spilled something on the cooker and now it only half-works." Brittany replies, shuffling closer until her body is pressed against Santana's. "So we have like twenty minutes to kill…" She trails off, and Santana takes the unspoken offer and crashes her lips onto Brittany's.
The blond whimpers, responding instantly and kissing Santana back, their lips molding together perfectly. Santana lifts her arms up to wrap around Brittany's shoulder, rising up on her toes slightly to press her body against the blond harder, her hips jerking forward when Brittany sucks on her bottom lip.
Brittany's hands move from the counter to Santana's hips, squeezing gently and pulling her closer. Santana groans, seeming to always forget just how good Brittany feels against her.
The lack of air gets to Santana eventually, and she breaks the kiss, only to moan Brittany's name when the blond moves to kiss at her neck, licking and sucking her way down Santana's throat and along her collarbone. Brittany's hands are all over Santana, running down her back, tangling in her hair to tilt her head back, sliding just under the bottom of her top to run her fingers along Santana's stomach and hips, before they eventually settle on her ass, squeezing at it and rocking Santana's hips into her own.
Fuck. The throbbing between Santana's legs is beginning to get unbearable, and she can hardly think straight like this, Brittany's hands on her ass, Brittany's hips rocking against hers, Brittany's chest pressed against hers, Brittany's tongue sliding over her skin and Brittany's teeth biting into her neck.
Brittany, Brittany, Brittany… Santana's never felt so fucking… Consumed with another person, but holy shit she likes it.
Santana slides her hands from Brittany's shoulders to her cheeks, tugging at the blond's face until she raises her head, and Santana kisses her again, sliding her tongue into a hot mouth and stroking it against Brittany's until the blond is groaning lowly, the vibrations shooting straight through Santana to pulse between her legs.
Santana breaks the kiss again, gasping gently for air as she leans her forehead against Brittany's. She's still so close to Brittany, their noses brushing, but she doesn't open her eyes, just slowly gets her breathing back under control, tasting Brittany's sweet breath every time the blond exhales.
It's strangely intimate, and the scared part of Santana is glad when Brittany breaks their silence by giggling and saying, "How about that hot chocolate then?"
/
Turns out, Brittany makes the best fucking hot chocolate Santana has ever tasted. And that's including Starbucks, and the Lima Bean's back in Ohio. Santana had been banished to the couch, Brittany claiming if anyone else saw her secret recipe the magic would be lost, and it's such a Brittany thing to say that Santana couldn't help but do it.
She's sitting on the couch flipping through a random magazine, but getting distracted watching Brittany dance around her kitchen, and when the blond brings the two mugs over, Santana almost starts drooling. The hottest woman she's ever seen carrying the best looking hot chocolate she's ever seen, well you can't really blame her can you? She's only human.
Santana attempts to blow gently on the mug to cool it down, but it probably makes absolutely no difference thanks to the mountain of whipped cream bobbing on top of the actual liquid. She carefully picks up one of the marshmallows embedded in the cream without making a mess and pops it in her mouth, looking up just in time to see Brittany take a gulp of the hot chocolate, and when she brings the mug back down Santana nearly chokes on the marshmallow.
In true Brittany fashion, there's now a massive smear of whipped cream all over her nose. Santana snorts, and when Brittany quirks an eyebrow at her she giggles, setting her mug down on the table, and leans forward.
"You've got whipped cream all over your nose." Santana says in amusement, swiping her finger over the cream to get it off. Brittany smirks evilly, reaching over to place her mug down before grabbing at Santana's retreating arm. The raging arousal Santana had managed to stomp down flares back up in an intense pounding in her chest and between her legs when Brittany drags her tongue over Santana's fingers, licking the whipped cream off.
A tiny whimper escapes Santana's lips, and she's pretty sure her jaw is hanging open in a particularly unattractive way when Brittany decides to torture her even more, and sucks two of Santana's fingers into her mouth. Her tongue slides over and around the pads of Santana's fingers, around her knuckles, as she moves her head slowly to drag her lips up and down the length of Santana's fingers, sucking gently all the while.
Holy fucking hell.
Brittany's darkened blue eyes bore into hers, and Santana is sure she's soaked through her underwear by this point. Like Jesus Christ, having somebody suck your fingers should not be this hot, but it's just turning Santana on more and more.
Brittany releases her fingers with an obscene wet smack, before licking her lips and letting go of Santana's wrist, which just falls limply onto the sofa as Santana continues to stare open mouthed at the blond.
So not fucking fair…
Brittany picks her mug back up, innocently looking at Santana over the rim as she takes another sip, managing to keep her face free of whipped cream this time. "How's your hot chocolate, San?"
Santana blinks dumbly, and tries desperately to ignore the dull throb between her legs as she reaches out with her right hand – the hand with the fingers that Brittany basically just sucked off – and picks up her mug, taking a gulp of it, and holy shit this is the greatest hot chocolate Santana's ever had. Like, it actually distracts her from her surging arousal for a few seconds, it's that good.
"Oh my God, this is so good Britt."
Brittany looks so proud of herself. It's adorable. "Thank you. Lord Tubbington gave me the recipe, apparently it caused a few wars in cat street gangs, so he gave it to me for safekeeping."
Santana blinks again, because what the hell do you even reply to that, and just takes another gulp of the most amazing hot chocolate in the world made by the most amazing person in the world.
Brittany continues chattering on about Lord Tubbington, and their conversation spreads to pets – which Santana doesn't contribute to too much. Goldilocks the goldfish lasted the grand total of one week in junior year. Never again. – Quinn and Rachel – it's horrifying! I can't even walk into my own fucking apartment without seeing them practically going at it on the sofa! – and the Halloween party tomorrow.
"So what does your costume look like?" Brittany asks, setting her now empty mug down on the table and scooting slightly closer to Santana.
Santana fights back a smirk, and shrugs her shoulders nonchalantly. "You know, just a regular boring Batwoman costume." She answers casually, placing her mug next to Brittany's on the table. "Black dress with a red bat on the front, and a red cape."
She chooses not to mention the small details of the dress being tiny, skin tight and low cut, and the red knee high heeled boots she has to go with it.
"You know what you're going as yet?" Santana asks, and Brittany averts her eyes, before saying No far too quickly for Santana to believe her.
Santana doesn't bother pressing Brittany on it, just says I'm sure you'll look gorgeous whatever you wear, and the next thing she knows is she's on her back with Brittany on top of her.
"Britt-" She doesn't get very far questioning the blond about what she's doing before Brittany's lips are covering her own. Brittany kisses her relentlessly, until she's breathless but still whimpering and moaning into Brittany's mouth, and God having Brittany's full weight resting on her is hotter than she thought possible.
Ignoring the still scared part of her, she shuffles her hips around a bit, until her left leg is sliding between Brittany's, and she rocks her hips up, her thigh pressing against Brittany's center.
The strangled moan that comes from Brittany's lips when she breaks the kiss and buries her head into Santana's shoulder shoots straight to between Santana's legs, and holy fuck her pervy daydreams do not do justice to how hot Brittany's breathy little moans and whimpers sound. Especially when they're right into Santana's ear, followed by Brittany sucking on her earlobe.
Santana groans, and her hands fist in the back of Brittany's top, before travelling down her back to grab at her ass. Brittany moans again, a drawn out, husky gasp of Santana's name, and holy shit Santana is wet right now.
The throbbing arousal between her legs is causing her vision to start to go hazy, and she can barely think about anything other than the way Brittany feels on top of her, hips rolling against Santana's thigh, desperate pants into her ear.
Brittany rocks her hips against Santana's thigh more forcefully, at the same time starting to press open mouthed kisses all over Santana's throat.
Santana's brain nearly short circuits at one particularly harsh bite at her collarbone, and then Brittany is shifting slightly further down her chest.
Unlike the last time Brittany's face, and therefore mouth had been in close proximity to Santana's chest, there's no annoying high neckline of lace to get in the way, the deep v of Santana's top giving Brittany free access to kiss and lick her way across the top of Santana's boobs.
Santana's hands drag up Brittany's back to tangle in her hair, tilting her own head back as she presses Brittany's face closer to her chest. Fuck, they really need to stop.
No part of Santana wants to, but she knows they have to. Part of Santana is still scared, and despite how much she wants to fuck the blond, she knows if they have sex now, Santana will definitely panic and then run in the morning, effectively ruining any chance she has with Brittany.
Brittany doesn't seem to have to same qualms as Santana; sucking hard enough at the top of her right breast that Santana knows there'll be a massive hickey there tomorrow.
"Britt, wait, oh God, fuck-" Stopping Brittany is slightly more difficult that Santana realized, when the blond licks a stripe over to the other breast.
"Britt." Santana gasps, tugging on Brittany's hair until the blond groans, lifting her head up to meet her eyes. Santana nearly loses it when she sees the way Brittany's looking at her. Her lips are bright red and swollen, from kissing Santana and from sucking at her skin, her eyes are the darkest blue Santana's ever seen them, and her hair is a tousled mess. Plus the fact that her mouth is hovering right over Santana's breasts, which all makes for one of the hottest things Santana's ever seen.
"Are you okay?" Brittany asks, and fuck her voice is hot.
Santana closes her eyes, letting her head fall back against the armrest. "I'm sorry Britt, I just-"
Brittany cuts her off, kissing her sweetly. "It's okay. We don't have to do anything you don't want to do."
"Britt, I want to though. Believe me, I want you so much, sometimes I feel like it's driving me crazy." Santana admits breathlessly, tracing her fingers over Brittany's cheekbone, revering in the affectionate way Brittany's looking down at her.
"So, why…" Brittany trails off, angling her face slightly to kiss the ends of Santana's fingers.
"I really like you Britt." Santana whispers, ignoring the nerves in her stomach and keeping eye contact with Brittany. "Like really like you." She adds on when Brittany looks like she's away to question it.
"I just, I'm awful with relationships, with feelings and all that crap, and I just want-" Santana pauses, trying to figure out how to word what she's feeling. "I want to do this right." She eventually settles on, and clearly she's done something right if the smile Brittany bestows on her is any indication.
"You're so sweet." Brittany murmurs, sounding almost in awe, leaning down to kiss Santana quickly. "You really are amazing." She adds on, and Santana feels warmth flood through her body like it does every time Brittany compliments her.
"Let's just take things slowly." Santana mumbles against Brittany's lips, brushing hers gently against the blond's addictive tasting ones.
"Okay." Brittany says. "That probably means you should go soon, huh?" The blond pouts down at her, and okay that's just not fucking fair.
"Yeah, I'll have to go soon." Santana confirms. "If it's any consolation, I don't want to leave at all."
"What do stars have to do with anything?" Brittany asks, looking confused.
Okay Santana's pretty stumped on that one. Sounds like consolation, has something to do with stars…
"I said consolation Britt, not constellation." Santana laughs, kissing Brittany when she mumbles a quiet oh in an embarrassed tone.
"Wait," Brittany asks, leaning back so she can look at Santana properly. "Can we cuddle before you go, or is that not taking it slow?"
Santana smiles, reaching up to wrap her arms around the blond and tug her down, shifting until the blond is cuddled into her side, head on her shoulder and their legs tangled together.
"Yeah Britt, we can cuddle."
