A/N: A general style note for this chapter and all subsequent ones, I'm going to use square brackets to indicate when someone is speaking Spanish. (Eg. If Santana were to talk to anyone in her family, she would clearly speak in Spanish rather than in English.)
Also, now that Santana's back in school the pace of this story should pick right back up :) (idek, I feel like the past 3 chapters have been more filler than anything else... :/)
I sincerely hope this chapter was worth the wait... And, again, we broach a little closer to the M-rating. ;)
It's Thursday morning and, after stopping off at Santana's house so that she could shower and change, Rachel and the Latina pull into the WMHS parking lot with 15 minutes to spare before morning glee rehearsal.
As Rachel turns off the ignition, the airspace that was previously filled by the radio falls silent. Neither girl tears their gaze away from the imposing grey building in front of them. This is it. This is the morning they're going to tell the glee club what's happening between them. This is the day they're going to find out who supports them and who doesn't. Santana sighs at the thought.
"We're really about to do this, aren't we..." Rachel ventures nervously, cutting through the thick silence.
"Yeah, we are," Santana answers matter-of-factly, nodding her head.
Rachel breathes out an unsteady breath before she speaks again. "I'm not entirely sure I've ever been this nervous... not even telling my dads."
The Latina chuckles awkwardly. "Honestly? Me neither..."
Neither move.
After a couple minutes, Santana clears her throat. "Um, we are going to have to go in at some point soon―" she looks down at her watch before looking over at Rachel uncertainly. "―or we're gonna be late."
Rachel looks up with a near-terrified expression, her hand still tightly gripped around the parking break.
Santana smiles lightly and reaches down to remove the diva's hand and take it into her own. She brings it up and brushes her lips against the girl's knuckles. "Hey," she coos softly. "We'll be alright. Worst case scenario, we get ostracized... which we kind of already are for being gleeks," she shrugs, trying to lighten the mood. "Remember, we've already got Quinn and Puck on our side... and I don't think Kurcedes will have any issue with it... and both Matt and Brittany know―which means Mike knows, too... Artie and Tina will totally be cool with it..." she leaves it hanging, not wanting to bring up the one name that's really on both of their minds.
"He's gonna freak out." Rachel says, staring down at their hands, vocalizing the Latina's concerns.
Santana sighs, Always fucking Frankenteen. "You know what? He's only one person. He'll get over it. If Brittany can get over it, so can he." She smiles kindly.
Rachel's lips curl up slightly. "Ok."
"Ok?" Santana confirms, her brow raised.
"Ok." The diva repeats firmly with a nod.
"Well ok then," Santana half chuckles as she starts to climb out of the car, Rachel following shortly thereafter.
The two start a slow, silent stroll down the empty halls with their hands linked. Once they reach the music room door, Santana simply squeezes the diva's hand reassuringly, not feeling the need to vocalize to convey her feelings. Rachel smiles and lifts to her toes to brush her lips against the Latina's before they release hands and enter the room.
As soon as Quinn sees Santana walk in, she pops up from her seat. "Motherfuck, it's alive!" she remarks with a smile as she walks up to wrap Santana in a friendly hug. However, almost immediately her expression shifts and she pushes the Latina back by the shoulders. She arches an eyebrow, "You're not still contagious, are you?"
Santana rolls her eyes. "Ask Rachel," she smirks as she raises her eyebrows a few times before gesturing her head towards the passing diva. Quinn grimaces slightly, drawing a chuckle from the Latina.
Rachel overhears and blushes heavily as she continues past the pair and into a seat.
Mr. Schue soon emerges from his office and walks up to the piano before turning to face the group. "Good morning, guys," he greets with a smile. "Ladies?" he directs towards Santana and Quinn, gesturing his arm for them to take a seat.
They slide into the two vacant seats next to Rachel in the front row.
Schue claps his hands together cheerily, "Alright. So as I told you on Monday, next week we're gonna be taking the week off so that you guys can focus on final assignments. But! We've got an exciting session today―we're going to start talking about potential numbers for Regionals!" As the group cheers, he instinctively looks over to Rachel, expecting the diva to have her usual opinion on the matter. He finds himself taken aback when she doesn't seem to have anything to say.
Santana finds herself nothing if not equally shocked as she looks at the girl in the seat next to her, flabbergasted by her silence.
Schue clears his throat awkwardly. "Ok..?" he draws out almost questioningly, still staring at the diva, whose eyes seem to be fixed on the ground. He clears his throat and adjusts his tie before looking back up at the group. "Ok, first thing today, though, we have a performance from Puck!" he gestures towards the boy.
Santana's head snaps up in surprise, Really? I wonder why he didn't tell me anything about it...
The group applauds and the mohawked boy gets up and retrieves his guitar from its case before settling on a stool in front of the piano. Brad is sitting at the large instrument behind him and Artie wheels over with a bass guitar in hand and plugs in.
Once he's sure everything's set up, Puck clears his throat and looks out to the bleachers. "Alright, so this song is dedicated to Quinn... and a little bit to Santana, too." The Latina's eyes go wide. "I hope I didn't fuck things up too badly..." he smiles softly at both of the girls before starting to strum.
"Sittin' on the edge, looking for songs in a bottle
Talking with strangers who don't know my pain
Blurry eyed and burned out, choking on more than I can swallow
Crack in a little voice that calls out my name,
"She said 'Whatever happened to you?
It's been two years where have you been?'
And I guess all my fears were true
The words were all gone, the time's been too long
But it's not too late to say I'm sorry to a friend
What happened to my friend?"
Santana chances glances at Quinn's face as the boy sings, and as hard as the blonde is trying to stay composed, the Latina can see cracks forming. The more she watches, the more she realizes that Quinn really does have feelings for Puck―despite the fact she's trying to fight them.
She shifts her gaze towards Puck, who is looking intently at Quinn as he continues to sing.
"Staring at her face, I see a past that still haunts me
The road where we split up is paved with the things I didn't say
We had wonderful times, but terrible timing
Now just leave her alone, I'll just be in the way.
"She said, 'Whatever happened to you
You took the coward's way out again.'
And I guess all my fears were true
The words are all gone, the time's been too long
But it's not too late to say I'm sorry to a friend
I'm sorry to a friend, sorry to a friend, sorry to a friend."
Santana smiles as the boy continues to sing. For once, it seems like Puck is trying to go about things the right way.
"Like a stone in a stream, life smoothes all our edges
'Til we barely make a ripple anymore
But those times in my life will live with me forever
But we're not the same people that we were before.
"And I'm sorry for the smiles we missed and the times that I blew it
I've got so much to tell you, I don't know where to start
Maybe I'll find a way, maybe you'll help me do it
'Cause friends like us should not be apart
And I'm sorry to a friend, well now I'm sorry."
The boy trails off, repeating "I'm sorry" as the song comes to an end.
The group applauds and Santana shoots the boy a smile and a sly thumbs up, hiding it from Quinn's view, as he heads back towards the bleachers.
Schue returns to the front of the class and spends the next half hour at the white board taking suggestions and storyboarding potential Regionals set lists as Rachel continues to stay uncharacteristically quiet. Santana watches the diva as the session continues, noticing how her breathing grows progressively less even as time passes. Watching the girl makes her start to grow nervous herself.
Schue chances a glance up at the clock before capping the marker in his hands. "Alright guys, that's our time for today. Best of luck with your projects and whatnot and I'll see you after next week!" He walks to the piano and starts to gather his things as people start to move around.
Santana stands and turns towards the bleachers, "Hold up, if you guys could just hold on an extra minute, I need to make an announcement."
Schue raises an eyebrow, but walks towards the bleachers and takes a seat as the other gleeks return to theirs.
Santana makes it up to the piano and turns to face the group before she realizes that she's up there alone. She looks pointedly at Rachel, who has not moved the entire session and is still staring blankly at the ground. "Rachel," she says firmly and the girl looks up at her. She gestures her head to the spot next to her, and the movement seems to finally spring the diva into action.
Rachel walks up and takes the spot next to Santana, turning to face the group but immediately looking down at the ground once more.
Santana's heart starts to race a little faster as she looks at Rachel and reads the nerves that have made their way up to the front of the room along with the diva. She starts wringing her hands together in front of her body as she awkwardly clears her throat. "Um, ok, so... I guess it's more like an announcement that Rachel and I both need to make..." she trails off nervously, keeping her eyes on the diva. She nudges the girl's shoulder with her own.
"Um, yes," Rachel chimes in, but as she looks up she completely freezes, her mouth slightly agape.
Santana sighs deeply as she turns back towards the group, but no words escape her either.
The gleeks are all staring at the pair in complete bafflement. There is about a minute of silence―the longest minute of Santana's life, she's sure―before a voice breaks it up.
"Oh for chrissakes," Quinn starts with a roll of her eyes. "They're dating."
"I told you," Kurt says excitedly as he leans down to slap Mercedes' shoulder.
A few gasps and some mumbling happen before a strong voice interjects.
"What?" Finn shakes his head as he stands, unmistakable anger in his voice. "Rachel, please tell me you're not this stupid..." he trails off, staring pointedly at the diva.
Rachel doesn't respond but grabs hold of Santana's bicep and turns her head to bury it into the Latina's shoulder, trying to pretend that she's anywhere but in this room right now.
"Back the fuck off, Finnocence," Santana warns in a serious tone, crossing her arms defensively in front of her body.
"This is bullshit!" the boy says incredulously, shifting his eyes to positively glare at the Latina. "You've spent the past 10 years treating her like complete shit!" he gestures his arm towards the silent diva. "Rachel," his voice grows tender as he steps down off of the risers and starts towards the girl.
He doesn't make it very far before a firm grip on his arm stops him. "You heard the girl, she said back off man," Puck says firmly as he stands from his own seat.
Finn yanks his arm out from Puck's grasp. "This is completely retarded!" he near-yells.
"Dude, chill the fuck out," Puck says warningly with a shake of his head.
"Or else what, huh?" Finn asks incredulously, turning back to face the mohawked boy. "You gonna do something about it?" He pushes Puck, and the boy stumbles back a few steps, almost tripping over the front row of chairs.
At the commotion, Mr. Schue stands, preparing himself to intervene should the situation escalate.
"Finn! You're being ridiculous," Quinn chides as she also stands.
As the blonde speaks, Puck steadies himself and begins to advance on Finn. "How about yes, I am gonna do something about it," he responds as he pushes the oafish boy back.
Schue rushes over quickly and grabs Finn by the shoulders as he starts back towards the mohawked boy. Mike and Matt do the same to Puck in an attempt to separate the two jocks. Santana is wide-eyed at the scene playing out in front of her, Holy shit, and Rachel is still buried in her shoulder.
It's Brittany who, out of nowhere, speaks over the ruckus. "Stop it!" Everyone turns towards her in surprise―even Rachel looks up―as she speaks pointedly at Finn. "Everyone else here seems to be ok with this, so the fact that you're not would seem to suggest that the problem is with you and not with them," she gestures an arm towards the two girls at the front of the class and shoots them a soft smile.
Santana's jaw drops and Rachel is wide-eyed at the blonde's defence.
Finn just pulls out of Mr. Schue's grasp and stands still, running a hand over his hair. "I can't believe this. Everyone's gone fucking insane," he shakes his head before simply walking to the bleachers and grabbing his bag. He turns back and leaves the room without another word.
The other two jocks release Puck, who walks up to the pair at the front of the room before turning back towards the rest of the group. "And if anyone else has a problem with it, I'll be happy to sort you out, too," he says warningly as he cracks his knuckles.
"Me too," Quinn pipes up as she steps towards the front of the class, crossing her arms as she turns to face the group.
Santana smiles at both Puck and Quinn before looking up to other blonde in the room uncertainly. Brittany is still smiling kindly at her, and she shoots the girl a genuinely thankful smile in return.
She turns to Rachel and reaches out to take the small girl's hand into her own, causing the diva to look at her for the first time. "We're good," she says softly with a wink, giving the small hand a reassuring squeeze.
Rachel just smiles up at her with adoration in her eyes.
"Ok," Mr. Schue chimes in, awkwardly clearing his throat to regain the attention of the group. "I guess it's a good thing we have a week off..." he trails off in a mumble, talking more to himself than anyone else, not really knowing what to say at this point. He smiles awkwardly and claps his hands together, "We'll see you all in a couple weeks."
With that said, the older man heads into his office and the remaining gleeks start packing up their things and moving to leave.
Puck turns towards the girls with a smile and wordlessly reaches out to squeeze each of their shoulders reassuringly before going to grab his bag and heading out.
Quinn wraps Rachel up in a surprisingly warm hug before stepping over and doing the same to Santana. "It'll be all good," she whispers before relinquishing her hold, picking up her bag, and heading out herself.
Matt and Mike both fist-bump with Santana before taking off, and Artie and Tina shoot both girls broad smiles and kind waves as they leave as well.
Kurt and Mercedes walk up to the pair, the small boy wearing a particularly smug smile. "I would like to formally thank you both for winning me $10. I may not really understand it," he shakes his head slightly for emphasis. "But I know chemistry when I see it."
"Get it, girls," Mercedes says with a wink and a smile. "I'm actually happy you two are together... although you did lose me $10..." she trails off.
Santana rolls her eyes but her smile doesn't drop. She finds herself absolutely elated at New Directions' seeming blanket acceptance of her and Rachel's relationship, save for that one boy who doesn't really matter anyway.
Finally, Brittany walks up hesitantly with a shy smile. Santana immediately reaches out to grab her hand and pull her into a firm hug. "Thank you so, so much B," she says softly into the blonde's ear. When she pulls away, Brittany is wearing a bashful smile.
"I'm trying," the blonde says softly, averting her stare to the ground.
"You're succeeding," Santana responds reassuringly with a wide smile and kind eyes.
Brittany looks up and shoots the Latina a matching smile before she's forcibly and quite awkwardly pulled into a hug by the small diva to her left, causing Santana to lightly chuckle.
"Thank you, Brittany," Rachel smiles as she releases the blonde.
The cheerleader just smiles kindly at the diva, and once more at Santana, before taking off.
Santana turns towards Rachel with a wide smile, taking the girl's hands into her own. "Not too, too bad, eh?'' she says with an arched eyebrow.
Rachel's smile matches her own and Santana pulls the diva into a hug. The pair stay in the embrace for a few moments before the Latina pulls her head back and leans down to kiss the diva, letting her hand drift up to the side of the girl's face. We're good, she smiles. They exchange tender kisses for what seems like forever before Schue emerges from his office once more.
"Santana," he says pointedly from behind the Latina as he walks across the classroom staring down at some paperwork, pulling the Latina's attention, as well as her lips, away from the diva. "[I will see you in class today, yes?]"
Santana rolls her eyes, aware that the vest-clad man can't see it. "Yes, Mr. Schue," she says simply.
"[Good,]" the man adds as he exits the room.
Rachel raises a questioning eyebrow up at the Latina. "What was that all about?"
Santana raises an eyebrow in return, "[You don't speak Spanish?]" Rachel's brow drops in confusion and Santana lightly chuckles. "Schue was making sure I'm coming to class," she explains simply.
A comfortable silence falls over the pair as Rachel simply nods her understanding. Santana reunites their hands, letting them swing at their sides, just staring at the diva with a smile.
"So..." Rachel starts, breaking the silence as she starts playing with the configuration of their hands, lifting them up to shoulder level. "We're actually out now..." she trails off with a relieved smile.
"At least to glee," the Latina responds with a smile before leaning down to the diva's ear, speaking in a quiet whisper. "[Which means I can kiss your sexy ass whenever I want in this room... and I can say inappropriate things whenever I want and you won't even know it...]" she smirks before pulling back.
Rachel shivers despite the fact she can't understand what's being said, the cheerleader's tone of voice being enough to make her feel flush.
When Santana leans back, Rachel's eyes have darkened considerably. She smiles and leans in for a chaste kiss before speaking. "I gotta go to class," she says with slight sadness.
The diva nods with an expression matching the Latina's voice. "I'll see you at lunch?" she chances with uncertainty.
Santana smiles wide, "Without a doubt."
The morning passes by uneventfully. Spanish is spent doing review for the oral exam that they would have the next week, and English is spent finishing off the rest of 'Macbeth' for the final paper the class would have to write.
When the lunch bell rings, Santana smiles and pops out of her seat, cheerfully waving to Quinn before heading off to meet up with Rachel. She stops off at her locker to grab her lunch before proceeding to the familiar back hallway.
She peeks in the window to see that Rachel is already seated at the piano bench and her smile spreads. She enters quietly, but lets the door click shut audibly behind her.
Rachel looks up with a bright smile and skips over towards the Latina, nearly tackling her back against the door, throwing her arms around the girl's shoulders and crushing her lips with a kiss. The kiss is relatively chaste, but the diva still has a blush across her cheeks when she pulls back and settles back down onto her feet.
"Well, 'hello' to you too," Santana ribs as she lets her arms drift around the diva's waist. "[Has anyone ever told you how sexy you look in these ridiculous little sweaters?]" she asks with a smirk, letting her hands drift slightly beneath the aforementioned article of clothing.
The diva smiles sheepishly with a slight blush across her cheeks before she arches an eyebrow. "I'm not entirely sure I like this whole Spanish thing... not knowing what you're saying, I mean... other than that, it's actually incredibly sexy," her eyes widen at her own words and she looks down, her blush having deepened tenfold.
Santana chuckles with a wide smile, a blush threatening her own cheeks as she reaches a hand up to lift the diva's chin. When their eyes meet, Santana finds herself taken aback. As cliché as it is to say, she's convinced she could get entirely lost in the intricacies of Rachel's irises―so dark at their borders and yet fading into progressively lighter and lighter shades of chocolate as they approach the pupil. She notices a small dark spot in one of the diva's orbs. "You have a freckle in your left eye," she observes quietly as she runs her hand gently along the side of the girl's face.
Rachel smiles, "And you have one in your right eye."
Santana's not entirely sure she's ever held sustained eye contact for this long and, oddly enough, it doesn't feel uncomfortable at all. "We match," she whispers, looking down bashfully as she realizes she said it aloud.
She feels one of Rachel's hands come to rest on her cheek, and chances a glance back up. "We do," the diva nods with a serious expression, obviously referring to a lot more than their eye freckles.
Santana closes the small gap between them, pulling the diva's body almost into her own, and lets her lips lightly graze the shorter girl's. Rachel sighs contentedly into the embrace and Santana deepens it, letting her tongue meet the diva's softly. As they continue their dance, Santana starts to feel a heat running throughout her body and her kisses grow more urgent, her hands starting to drift up the songstress's sweater once more, slightly hiking it upwards.
Rachel's breath hitches as her shirt starts trying to escape her body and she pulls away, taking the Latina's hands into her own and resting her forehead on Santana's. Santana groans and Rachel chuckles softly. "We may be out-ish, but we're still in school," she smirks, pulling her head back before speaking again. "Also, I'm about seventy-five percent sure there's a camera somewhere in this room…" she trails off, glancing around the room to find out whether there is, in fact, a camera.
Santana chuckles slightly with a roll of her eyes, "Ok tin-hat." She releases one of the diva's hands and leads her over to take a seat on the ground, behind the whiteboard, leaning against the wall. She sits first, but the diva doesn't follow. She looks up to see the girl looking at her questioningly. "What?"
Rachel's brow is completely furrowed as she speaks. "Why on earth would we sit on the ground when there are seats all over the room?" she gestures her free arm towards the piano bench and, beyond it, the bleachers.
Santana smirks, "Well, if we sit here then none of your phantom cameras will be able to see us and no one can see us through the windows." She points in the general direction of both doors with her free hand before raising her eyebrows a few times.
The diva rolls her eyes, but does take a seat on the ground after grabbing her food from atop the piano.
They eat their respective lunches before Rachel sighs contentedly. Santana reflexively throws an arm over the diva and the slight girl settles onto her shoulder.
The pair stay settled in their embrace for a while before either speaks.
"So, Christmas is coming up..." Rachel breaks the silence.
Santana raises a curious eyebrow, despite the fact the diva can't see it. "Aren't you Jewish?"
The diva shrugs, "Half... non-practicing."
Santana screws her face, "So... what do you celebrate this time of year, then?"
"Hallmark holiday," Rachel answers simply.
Santana chuckles softly. "What about your dad? He's all synagogues and yarmulkes, isn't he?"
The diva smirks. "Well yeah, he has his menorah and he does his prayers and stuff, but that's his own personal thing."
Santana nods to herself. "Ok... so you do Christmas? Like, movie-style shit?" she ventures.
Rachel chuckles lightly, "Yup. Dinner, presents, family time, watching movies, all that goodness."
Santana suddenly grows curious. "So... are we exchanging presents?"
Rachel lifts her head and narrows her gaze, "Of course we are. Being my girlfriend, if you didn't buy me a gift I would simply have no choice but to break up with you."
Santana raises her brow in surprise, "Oh really?"
The diva just nods. "And since you're clearly spending Christmas with me and my dads, that would probably make things pretty awkward."
Santana can't help but laugh at the diva's self-assuredness. "You know, strangely enough, I'm not sure I heard an invitation anywhere in there..."
Rachel rolls her eyes and settles her head back down before growing curious herself, wondering if she should even ask. "Do you celebrate Christmas?"
The Latina laughs. "Are you kidding? My family's like hella Catholic, of course I do."
Rachel smirks, "So do you guys do all the, ahem, 'movie shit'?"
Santana's face drops slightly. "Not so much. I mean, none of my family lives here so it's pretty much just me and my mom." She sighs heavily. "We do gifts... and I watch Christmas movies because I like them... but mostly my mom just does her own thing."
Rachel feels bad for having even asked but nods her understanding. The pair sit in an uncomfortable silence for a few minutes before the diva tries to lighten the mood.
"So... what's your favourite Christmas movie then?" she asks curiously.
Santana stays silent in contemplation for a moment before smiling wide. "'Die Hard'," she answers simply.
The diva lifts her head once more and her eyes go wide in disbelief as she slaps the Latina's shoulder. "Santana! That is so not a Christmas movie. Are you serious? Please tell me you're kidding..."
Santana smirks and rolls her eyes. "Ok, 'Black Christmas'―the original of course," she adds for good measure.
Rachel's face screws slightly, "What's that?"
"Oh, it's a classic. It's about sorority girls celebrating Christmas."
The diva still looks confused. "Ok..." she draws out. "That sounds nice enough, I suppose..."
"Yeah," Santana nods. "It's pretty good. They throw a Christmas party..." she smirks before continuing. "―despite the fact some creeper guy has been calling the house and scaring the shit out of them. The girls start disappearing one by one until, finally, they find out that the missing girls have been murdered by the creeper and that he's been inside the house the entire time."
Rachel looks absolutely mortified―half at the description of the movie and half at the Latina's choice of the movie. "That sounds horrible, how could you even..." she trails off, completely at a loss.
Santana just laughs and shakes her head. "Calm down, slugger, I'm just messing with you―though 'Black Christmas' is an entirely valid choice," she adds with a serious expression and a raised finger, drawing a roll of the eyes from the diva. She smiles, "I think you might actually approve of my favourite in this category."
Rachel raises her brow in expectation. "What is it?" she asks impatiently.
The Latina considers drawing out the wait even longer, but gives in, "'White Christmas'."
The diva completely lights up. "I love that movie!"
Santana shakes her head sternly. "You racist," she deadpans.
Rachel just rolls her eyes once more.
The Latina chuckles lightly and shakes her head again. "Of course you love 'White Christmas', it is a musical..." she trails off teasingly.
Rachel slightly glares at the girl for a moment before gasping in realization. "Oh my god, we should totally sing 'Sisters' for Glee Christmas!" she says excitedly, a look of pure joy on her face.
Santana just drops her brow in disbelief, "Um, (a) I'm not sure everyone would really get it as a Christmas song, and (b) considering we're dating, singing 'Sisters' might come off as, well, a little weird..."
The diva thinks it over for a moment. "I suppose you're right," she cedes with a slight frown. "Well, what about if we just did 'White Christmas'? We can slightly alter the Bing Crosby and Rosemary Clooney version to fit our vocals?" she suggests with a raised brow.
The Latina smiles and nods, "I like that." She leans in and brushes their lips together once more before trying to deepen the embrace, but, as she does, the warning bell rings. She groans pronouncedly as she pulls back.
Rachel just chuckles, "We're pretty good at getting interrupted, huh?"
Santana rolls her eyes but chuckles lightly as she reluctantly moves to stand. "Let's try not to make it a habit," she ribs, reaching her hand out to help the diva up.
Rachel pulls herself up with the Latina's hand, wearing a smile. She keeps hold of the cheerleader's hand and lifts to her tiptoes, giving the girl a soft kiss before settling back down. "See you after school?"
Santana just nods, bringing the diva's small hand up to her lips before relinquishing her hold. She watches with a smile as the diva leaves the room, staring intently at her favourite body part, before leaving the room herself.
Pre-calc flies by in a flurry of review and a pop-quiz. Almost as quickly as class began, the bell is ringing and Santana is packing up her things to head off to last period. When she walks out of the classroom, she sees Puck exiting a nearby class. She shoots the boy a friendly smile and wave, and he waves in return as he approaches.
"Hey," he greets kindly. "You off to physics?"
Santana nods. "You off to shop?"
The boy nods in return before raising an eyebrow, "Walk you?"
Santana just smiles and nods once more, and the pair start a slow stroll down the hallway.
"So... I really am sorry, you know," the boy starts softly, looking over to the Latina with sincerity in his eyes. "I mean, I wouldn't actually purposely fuck things up between you and..." he trails off, darting his eyes around, making a conscious effort not to mention the diva's name in the middle of the crowded hall.
The Latina nods, "I know. Even if you hadn't said it, I know. I mean, the way you stuck up for us in glee today was just... incredible." She smiles up at the boy who smiles bashfully in return and turns his gaze forward.
Santana can't help but grow curious, though. She arches an eyebrow, "So… did you just suddenly remember the rest of Saturday, or…?"
The boy chuckles a little in disbelief as he reaches out to hold the stairwell door open for the Latina. "Um, not at all, actually... Rachel told me what happened."
Santana's eyes widen, Really? She keeps her gaze forward and falls silent as they work their way down the stairs.
"Have you talked to her about it?" Puck inquires with a raised brow as they reach the landing.
The Latina shakes her head. "Not at all, actually... she hasn't brought it up," she shrugs.
Puck nods, but furrows his brow as he holds the downstairs door open. "Aren't you, like, living at her house right now?"
"Yeah," she nods with a sigh.
"Don't let it fester," he says simply as he falls into stride with the girl once more.
Santana looks up with an eyebrow raised.
"If you let her hold onto it, it's just gonna build up and it's gonna end up coming out as something else. Trust me, I've been there," he smiles. "Just talk it out."
Santana sighs once more. It sounds so easy, but even the prospect of that specific conversation sounds completely daunting at the moment. She shakes the thought and decides to change the subject. "So what about you? Have you talked to Q at all?"
Puck sighs heavily, turning his gaze forward. "Not really... I mean we've chatted a bit, I guess, but mostly she's been avoiding me all week. I tried looking for her at lunch today, but she wasn't in the caf."
Santana chances a glance over at the boy, who is staring down at his own feet in seeming defeat.
"Sometimes I wonder if she even likes me as a friend, you know?" he says softly, looking up with sad eyes that look so out of place on his face.
The Latina narrows her gaze, "Puck, please tell me you're kidding." The boy's expression doesn't change, and Santana rolls her eyes. "Dude, if she didn't like you she would've gone all retro-Tubby on your ass by now."
Puck chuckles lightly and, as the pair stop walking, he turns to face the Latina with a slight smile. It makes Santana smile in return.
"Well," she starts with a sigh. "This is where I get off," she gestures her head to the classroom.
Puck just smirks. "You know, I could help you with that..." he trails off, earning a questioning eyebrow from the Latina. "Getting off, that is," he elaborates, raising his eyebrows a few times suggestively.
Santana just rolls her eyes and punches the boy lightly in the shoulder. "We should hang out soon, it's been a while."
"For sure," Puck smiles sincerely. "Shoot me a text on the weekend."
"Cool," the Latina nods before turning and heading into class, sending the boy a goodbye wave over her shoulder.
It's around 4 when Santana and Rachel return to the Berry household, each girl heading to their respective room to do some homework.
Santana spends about half an hour going over some calc work before she feels her abdomen vibrate. Having grown completely bored of crunching numbers, she closes her books and leans back with a stretch in her chair before reaching into her hoodie pocket to retrieve her phone. The message is from Quinn, and it's short and sweet.
'Puck is stalking me.'
Santana can't help but chuckle as she taps out a response. 'Oh yeah? Well now you know how it feels creepstar :P'
It's not long before a response comes in. ':P I was happy/surprised to see you at school today. You got better pretty fast.'
The Latina smirks. 'Well, you know what they say... Medicine is the best medicine.'
'Nerd.'
Santana chuckles before raising an eyebrow in curiosity. 'Whatever. Why are you avoiding Loserface anyway?'
'Um, were you no longer with us on Saturday?'
She rolls her eyes. 'Whatever. That's just him. You know that. You've always known that.'
'I know. Ugh, I just wish he didn't have to be such a douchecanoe ALL THE TIME.'
Santana chuckles. 'You know as well as I do that he has his moments... Like this morning in glee.'
'True, it's just too bad they're so few and far between...'
She smiles lightly. 'Just give him a chance, he might surprise you ;)'
'You know you can stop cheerleading when you're not on the field, right?'
Santana rolls her eyes. ':P whatever tubs.'
"Santana!" Rachel's voice calls from the next room, drawing another roll of the eyes from the Latina. She turns her attention back to her phone when it vibrates again, though.
'Alright, I g2g help with dinner... Ttyl?'
Santana smirks as she types. 'Yeah, I have to go have super hot sex with Rachel right now anyway.'
She laughs aloud when Quinn's response comes in: 'I am now vomiting and have no interest in dinner, so thanks for that.'
';P' she taps out quickly, hitting send before standing from her chair, still slightly chuckling. She reaches her arms up in a stretch and pulls off her cumbersome hoodie before tossing it and her phone onto the bed and heading out of the room.
Out in the hallway, Rachel is leaning against the doorframe of her own room as the Latina approaches, wearing a mischievous smile. "So..." she starts, a hint of playfulness in her voice. "Both of my dads are at work..."
Santana raises an eyebrow, "Oh really?" She smiles wide as she starts inching closer to the diva, who just nods without dropping her smile.
She reaches a hand out to grab the diva's belt loop, pulling her in so that their lips meet. Rachel's arms instinctively move to wrap around the Latina's neck, and Santana's hands start inching the diva's sweater up her torso.
Santana pulls her lips back, wearing a serious expression and slightly shaking her head. "We really need to talk about these sweaters," she breathes out as she starts taking small steps forward, slightly pushing the girl back into her own bedroom, dropping her forehead to rest on the diva's.
Rachel looks down at her sweater before looking up with those innocent cartoon eyes. "What about my sweaters?" she asks, taking slow steps back at the Latina's insistence.
"About how you should just stop wearing them altogether," Santana says flatly, her eyes drifting down the diva's slight body, her hands still playing with the garment in question.
Rachel pulls her head away and raises an eyebrow, looking positively offended. She speaks with a bit of an edge in her voice, "And what exactly would you have me wear instead?"
Santana slightly smirks as she meets the diva's eyes with her own. "Oh, I never said you should wear anything instead..."
The diva's brow furrows, "So... you just expect me to walk around in my bra all day?"
Santana shrugs with a straight face, "Well, ideally yes." She smirks and raises her eyebrows a few times suggestively.
Rachel just rolls her eyes pronouncedly.
Santana reaches one arm blindly back to throw the door shut as she uses her other to grab Rachel's sweater roughly and pull the diva's lips to hers again. Rachel moans at the sudden contact, and Santana takes the opportunity to deepen the kiss as she continues to slowly advance the pair towards the diva's bed.
When the backs of Rachel's legs hit the bed, she sits down onto the soft fabric, pulling the Latina's neck down with her, unwilling to break their embrace. Santana reaches back and removes Rachel's hands, though, before reaching out to the hem of the girl's sweater once more, tugging it up with a bit more force this time. She stops abruptly and pulls her head slightly back, opening her darkened eyes to look into the diva's―looking for a sign of either approval or deterrence.
Rachel bites her lip in hesitation but, seeing the tenderness behind the lust in the Latina's eyes, nods her head. Santana smiles wide as she pulls the diva's shirt all the way off, Rachel lifting her arms to help in the task, leaving the girl in her bra once more. Santana's mouth runs completely dry and her heart rate reaches a gallop as her eyes drift over the diva's little travelled skin a second time. She unconsciously licks her lips before leaning down to kiss the girl once more, immediately deepening the embrace. She drops down to the ground on one knee, never separating their lips, and reaches out to grab Rachel's arms and wrap them around her neck once more. She reaches out again to wrap the diva's legs around her torso before letting her hands drift up the undersides of the girl's thighs. Once she gets her hands high enough, she pulls the diva flush against her body before standing and lifting the diva from the bed briefly. She drops a knee onto the centre of the bed, reaching one of her hands to the small of Rachel's back to place the diva down so that she is lying in the middle of the bed, her head back on the pillows. Santana's own body falls flush against Rachel's, forcing their lips apart.
In the pair's new position, Santana's abs are flush against the diva's centre, her eyes staring almost straight at the girl's now heaving chest. She kisses the soft skin between Rachel's breasts before using her arms to lift herself up slightly as she struggles to catch her breath. As she looks up to Rachel's face, she can tell that the diva is trying to maintain her composure. Santana smiles again before sliding her body slightly up, knowing that the girl will feel the friction of abs against her core. She smiles even further when she hears the expected moan from the girl beneath her.
"Fuck, Santana," the diva voices gruffly.
Santana quirks an eyebrow as she leans down to the diva's ear, continuing her painfully slow slide up the girl's body. "I wish you would," she whispers before pulling away with a mischievous smile.
Rachel's eyes go entirely black at the Latina's words, and Santana is pleasantly surprised when she feels the diva's small hands starting to tug urgently at the hem of her t-shirt.
She raises an eyebrow and smirks before pushing herself up so that she's up on her knees. She pushes the diva's legs flat against the bed so that she can move to straddle the girl's pelvis. Rachel's hands drift as far up the Latina's shirt as her short arms will allow, causing Santana to slightly chuckle. She reaches down and takes her shirt by the hem, slowly inching it up her torso.
Rachel licks her lips in anticipation before biting her bottom lip, her hands desperately trying to reach further up. Santana groans at the girl beneath her, but stays upright rather than leaning forward to help the diva out, enjoying the teasing aspect of their current situation. Once her crossed arms reach her breasts, she stops and looks down at the diva thoughtfully.
"You know, I'm not entirely sure that we're ready for this," she says teasingly with a smirk, keeping her shirt hiked up around her bust.
Rachel doesn't speak, but does groan slightly before smiling in realization. She abruptly removes her hands from the Latina's abs and instead starts running one hand up and down her own abs, her other hand running down her throat and along the topsides of her breasts. The diva lightly moans and Santana's jaw drops impossibly further. Her eyes glaze over as she stares down at the girl, knowing that she's lost the upper hand in this situation.
Santana drops her shirt, completely forgetting that she was about to remove it, before reaching down and running her own hands along the diva's bare skin, her breath hitching as she does so. She massages the girl's abs for a few brief moments before starting to drift upwards, but Rachel grabs her wrists and removes her hands abruptly.
"Shirt off," the diva demands firmly.
Santana looks down briefly, having forgotten she was even wearing a shirt, before removing the offending item as quickly as she can. Once she has it off, she looks down at the diva, waiting for further instruction.
Rachel doesn't speak, but lifts herself up onto one elbow so that she can reach out the other arm and grab the Latina by the neck, tugging her down into a crushing kiss. Santana's hands start to roam along the diva's torso again, inching ever closer to the girl's bra, but when she reaches her destination, Rachel drops back onto the bed, relinquishing her hold on the Latina's neck and using her hands to remove the cheerleader's once again. Santana groans heavily and drops her head onto the diva's shoulder. Rachel smirks slightly, reaching a hand between their bodies to push the Latina back up. Santana reluctantly rises, using an arm to prop herself up.
"I get to touch, too," the diva breathes out as she reaches a slightly hesitant hand up to Santana's face. She runs it along the girl's cheek, down her throat, along her collarbone, and down to one of her breasts. She stops, though, seemingly having no idea what to do.
Santana looks down her own body to see the diva's stilled hand sitting on her chest before looking up at the diva questioningly.
Rachel blushes under the scrutiny, "I've never really done this before..."
Santana smiles kindly and nods reassuringly. She reaches her free hand between their bodies, placing it on top of Rachel's before guiding the hand further down. She watches the diva's face as she follows the path of their hands. She brushes diva's hand along the topside of her breast and down the inside before moving the girl's thumb to graze her nipple through her bra. Santana moans slightly at the contact and Rachel lets out a chuckle of amazement, going wide-eyed as the Latina's nipple instantly hardens against the light contact. Rachel looks back up into Santana's eyes with the same look of amazement, as if she had just made some new discovery.
"Just do what feels right," Santana says simply as she removes her hand from atop the diva's, leaving it in place. Rachel seems to take the hint, looking down as she starts to move her hand around again and bringing her other hand up to join in.
Santana moves her now free hand to brush some hair out of the diva's face, letting her hand come to rest on the diva's cheek, her thumb running along the girl's chin. As Rachel's eyes meet her own once more, she comes to what should be a disturbing revelation: she's no longer doing this for fun, or out of need, or out of lust; she's doing it because she wants to be intimate with this girl, she wants to walk her through this, she wants this to come naturally, and she wants it to be, in a word, perfect. She feels a sensation she's never felt before wash over her, and she leans down to kiss the diva with the most pure intentioned kiss she's probably ever delivered.
When she pulls back from the ostensibly chaste kiss, Rachel is looking up at her with a questioning eyebrow. She just smiles, running her fingers as well as her eyes along the diva's face, seemingly trying to memorize the girl's features.
Rachel stills her hands and furrows her brow, "What is it?"
Santana smiles even further as she leans back, taking the diva's hands into her own before she speaks. "It's all good," she says softly, more to herself than to anyone else, as she runs her eyes over the diva, drawing an even more confused expression in return.
Rather than elaborate, Santana simply leans down to kiss the diva again, and when the diva starts licking at her lower lip, she feels herself shift into drive again. She opens her mouth and lets the diva in, releasing the girl's hands so that she can start running them along her smooth skin once more.
As Rachel's hands start running along her body again, Santana becomes cognizant of the sensations she seems to have been ignoring the past few minutes; and when one of the diva's hands grazes her breast again, she moans into the girl's mouth. She can feel herself getting worked up again, and she wants the diva to touch more of her.
She sits up abruptly, drawing a groan from the girl beneath her, who tries to follow her up. Santana lightly pushes the diva back down by her sternum, and the girl obeys. Santana runs her hands slowly up her own abs, now earning a moan and hitch in breathing from the girl beneath her, before starting to reach behind her back. Rachel's hands move to the Latina's thighs and start to massage the firm muscles, and she licks her lips as she registers what's about to take place. Santana reaches back to the clasp of her bra and undoes it before sliding her hands up to her shoulders and starting to inch the straps down.
"Rachel, I―oh my god," a loud, deep voice interjects.
Santana's head snaps left to see David standing in the doorway with a hand raised above his eyes. Holy fuck. Santana instinctively crosses her arms over her chest and rolls off of the diva with such force that she finds herself falling off of the bed, her shoulder hitting the ground hard with a heavy thud.
"Dad!" Rachel squeaks, frantically trying to pull her comforter up over her half-naked upper body.
Santana is nearly hyperventilating on the floor, but is beyond elated that she is on the far side of the bed―between it and the desk―and hidden from view. She quickly reaches her arms back and fumbles to do up her bra again before rolling onto her back and starting a frantic visual search for her shirt. When she comes up empty, she raises a hand to her forehead, dropping her head back onto the carpet and staring up at the ceiling in complete shock. Holy fucking hell. What the fuck. Holy shit.
A few minutes of silence pass before Santana starts to wonder if the man has left the room altogether. She doesn't dare chance a glance up, though, assuming the diva on the bed would have let her know if the coast were clear. Her suspicion is confirmed when she hears the man sigh heavily.
"Rachel," he starts exhaustedly. Santana can immediately read the contained anger in his voice. "I want to see you downstairs―preferably more clothed―in five minutes flat. Got it?"
Santana doesn't hear a reply, but assumes the diva must have given some sort of nonverbal response when she hears the door almost slam shut and rattle against the doorframe. She breathes out a sigh of relief, but quickly grows concerned about the girl sitting on the bed. She sits up and glances over at Rachel, who has her legs pulled up against her chest and is rocking back and forth, staring straight ahead blankly.
"Are you ok?" the Latina ventures softly. The diva doesn't react at all, almost as if she didn't even hear the question. Santana stands and moves to sit on the side of the bed, looking down at her lap and wringing her hands together. A couple minutes pass before Santana turns towards the girl again and reaches out a hand, hesitantly placing it on the diva's shoulder.
Rachel pulls away from the Latina's touch and immediately stands, looking around the room frantically for her sweater. She paces over to the piece of clothing and picks it up, staring at it for a few seconds before throwing it at the wall. "Fuck," she says aloud as she falls to a seated position on the ground, her back leaning against the bed frame.
Santana stares at the girl agape, but has no idea what to do. She stands and walks around to the other side of the bed. She picks the sweater up off of the ground and flips it the right way out before walking up to the diva. She gets down onto her knees in front of the girl and throws the fabric over her shoulder before reaching her hands down to grab the diva's and raise the girl's arms above her head.
Rachel just averts her gaze as Santana redresses her. The Latina settles back onto her heels and starts to brush her hands through the diva's hair, trying to make it look a little less like afterfuck.
Rachel stands up wordlessly and walks over to the vanity. She picks up her brush and starts to run it through her heavily mussed hair, violently ripping out the knots that have formed.
Santana sighs as she watches the diva, wishing she could fix it all with some witty remark as per usual, but right now she can't think of a single thing to say.
"Rachel!" David's firm voice booms from downstairs.
Rachel slightly jumps at the sound and breathes out a long sigh. She simply places the brush back down on the vanity before heading out of the room, closing the door behind her without so much as a glance back at the Latina.
Santana stands from her position on the ground and starts pacing around the room, at a complete loss as to what she should be doing in this situation. Holy fuck, her mind repeats, it seeming to be her central mantra at the moment. She suddenly stops in her tracks and stares at the wall that borders the guestroom, briefly considering a hasty retreat to her safe haven as of late. She sighs, though, as she realizes that she should probably wait for the diva's return. If the girl is going to be falling apart, Santana wants to be there to put her back together.
Having no idea what else to do, she walks over to pick her t-shirt up off the ground and pulls it back on. She looks around for a few more pensive moments before sitting on the diva's bed, grabbing the remote from the nightstand and turning on the tv. She doesn't adjust the tv beyond turning it on, having no idea what's playing on the screen in front of her as she stares blankly at it, an endless number of scenarios running through her mind.
He could kick me out. He could ground her. He could forbid her to see me. He could lock her up in a convent. He could axe murder me and use his surgical skills to remove my organs and sell them on black market and then bury my body in the backyard... ok, maybe I'm getting carried away here. She shakes her head.
When Rachel finally returns, Santana has no idea how much time has passed. She's spent the entire time locked inside her own mind, catastrophizing the situation to no end.
Rachel closes the door behind her and makes towards the bed, collapsing onto her stomach with an exhausted sigh. "He's such a hypocrite," she breathes out, her head buried in a pillow.
Santana flicks off the tv before shifting to lie down next to the diva, rolling onto her side to face the girl. She lightly pushes the diva's shoulder, trying to get her to roll onto her side as well so that they are facing each other. Rachel reluctantly obliges.
The Latina raises an eyebrow, "What do you mean?"
The diva sighs again. "He's gay, yet he has this huge issue with me dating a girl. Seems a little backwards, doesn't it?"
Santana furrows her brow. "Rach, I don't think your dad has a problem with you dating a girl..." she hesitates and sighs. "I think he has a problem with you dating me, specifically."
Rachel's brow rises and she looks at the Latina almost apologetically. "Oh Santana, that's not true..." she reaches out to brush some stray hair out of the cheerleader's face reassuringly.
Santana chuckles a little and shakes her head, reaching up to take the diva's hand into her own. "Except yeah, yeah it is." She kisses the diva's hand and sighs deeply before continuing. "He knows our history, he knows all the horrible things I've done to you... it's understandable that he's not comfortable with me being this close to you―in a position where I could really fuck you over if that were my intention."
Rachel looks at the cheerleader with complete vulnerability. "Is that your intention?"
Santana sighs. While she would usually be offended by such a question, she can't be while the diva looks so completely broken. "How can you even ask me that..." she says softly before bringing the diva's hand up to her lips again. "Even if I were the greatest actress in the world, I could never fake this." She presses the diva's hand flat against her chest, her heart rate quickening at the contact.
Rachel doesn't show any sort of discernable reaction, so the Latina shifts so that she's sitting up and looking down at the diva, the girl's eyes following her movement. "I am sorry," she says sincerely, trying to push the sincerity through her eyes. "I don't know whether you want or need to hear that, but I need to say it." She takes a deep breath, and brushes some flyaways behind the diva's ear. "I'm sorry, Rachel," she reiterates, her voice almost mouse-like.
Rachel simply looks away, and Santana sighs. After a few moments of thick silence, she tugs on the diva's hand, trying to get her to sit up. The girl reluctantly obeys once more, but refuses to meet the Latina's eyes.
"I'm serious," she assures the diva, reaching out to brush some stray hair behind her ear once more. "All the slushies, all the names, all the everything." She pauses hesitantly before adding the final part, "The sleeping with Puck."
Rachel still doesn't look up.
Santana raises her free hand to the diva's cheek, gently turning the girl to face her, and their eyes finally meet. "I'm sorry. And if there's anything you need to know, anything I need to tell you to make you believe that, just ask." She drops her hand and takes the diva's other hand into her own as well.
Rachel looks down at their hands briefly before staring at the Latina thoughtfully for a few moments. "Why did Brittany slushie me?" she asks, her voice barely above a whisper.
Santana's eyes widen and she looks down, knowing that there are two very distinct outcomes that could arise from telling Rachel the truth. On the one, very unlikely hand, Rachel might be flattered by the fact that Santana was thinking about her in such an intimate situation. On the other, almost certain hand, she'll be broken by the fact that Santana slept―or, well, almost slept―with Brittany during the early stages of their courtship.
The girl in front of her sighs and moves to get up, obviously convinced that no answer is coming, but Santana tugs her back down. The Latina stares deeply into chocolate eyes as she speaks. "You want the truth?"
Rachel looks at her incredulously. "No, I want you to lie to me," she says with a roll of her eyes, her words dripping with sarcasm.
Santana looks down at their hands and takes a deep breath, releasing it as a long sigh before speaking again. "The night before that... well, me and B were kind of... I guess 'fooling around' is the best way to put it... and things progressed... and, well... I kind of..." she chances a glance up at the diva, who is looking at her with vacant eyes. "I called her 'Rachel'." She slightly grimaces, anticipating a more than slightly negative reaction.
The girl's eyes widen briefly, but then look elsewhere. After a few moments the diva turns back to look at Santana again, looking entirely conflicted. She groans audibly, "I hate this. I don't even know whether I should slap you or kiss you right now..."
Santana smiles softly. "Well, if I get a vote, I'd prefer the latter..."
The diva's expression slightly softens, and Santana's sure she can even see the beginnings of a smile across the girl's lips. "So, have you slept with anyone else in the past week that I should know about?" she asks with a raised eyebrow.
The Latina just shakes her head.
Rachel stares pointedly at the girl, looking completely vulnerable. "And we're exclusive now, right?"
Santana sighs lightly. "Yes, I suppose I could give up my harem for you," she offers playfully with a bit of smirk, but also with pure genuineness.
Rachel truly smiles for the first time since she's returned to the room.
"For the record," the Latina starts. "Next time we should probably do this in my room." She gestures her head to their bordering wall. "There's little to no chance that either of your dads would walk in there without knocking..." she offers with a smile.
Rachel smiles further, not missing the fact that the Latina just referred to the guestroom as hers.
Santana lifts one of the girl's hands to her lips, placing a soft kiss on it before speaking again. "So, are we ok?" she asks, unsure if she's ever felt so emotionally vulnerable.
The diva smirks slightly. "It's all good," she says simply, echoing the Latina's words from earlier.
"It's all good," Santana nods before closing the gap between them, pressing a soft but firm kiss on Rachel's lips. She lets her forehead rest on the diva's, "It's only you, ok?"
Rachel smiles wide and nods, "Ok."
Santana pulls her head back in thought. "We need to get t-shirts."
Rachel just raises a highly confused eyebrow.
"'I Survived Davidgate 2010'," the Latina deadpans.
Rachel chuckles and rolls her eyes before lying back on the bed once more.
Santana leans back down onto her side, propping her head on her hand to look down at the diva. "So... am I getting kicked out or what?" she asks lightly with a raised brow, reaching over to take one of the girl's hands into her own.
Rachel softly chuckles once more. "No, you're safe... for now. He was mostly just telling me how I need to watch out for myself... oh, and saying no sex in the house."
Santana raises an eyebrow. "If that's true, then I have no idea how your fathers stay married."
Rachel's face washes over in disgust and she rolls onto her side to face the Latina, slapping her shoulder before pointing a threatening finger at her. "My dads do not do that, ok?"
Santana chuckles and rolls her eyes. "Ok, ok. This is an entirely sexless house," she cedes before smirking. "Guess that just means we'll just have to start hanging out at my mom's..." she trails off, raising her eyebrows a few times suggestively.
Rachel rolls her eyes but then furrows her brow.
Santana sees it and raises a questioning eyebrow. "What is it?"
The diva readjusts the pillow under her head before speaking. "I mean, I've just noticed... you call the guestroom your room, but you call your house mom's house..."
Santana looks past the diva in thought. Truth is, she hadn't even noticed she was doing it until now. She shrugs. "I guess I've just never felt at home at my mom's house."
"But you do here?"
The Latina blushes slightly, "Well yeah, I think so. I mean, yes. When I'm here... when I'm with you... I'm home." She looks up with hesitant eyes.
Rachel completely lights up for a few moments before her face drops and she raises an eyebrow instead. "Wait a minute... did you just quote 'Finding Nemo'?"
Santana smirks and shrugs, "Paraphrased, maybe."
Rachel leans up to kiss the Latina before settling back down. "I'm ok with that," she smiles.
Wow, so this chapter turned out to be quite a bit more dramatic than I had anticipated. But, on the bright side, we got a lot of pressing issues out of the way... or at least out into the open... *evil laugh* ;) Onward ho!
And the song that Puck sings is 'Sorry To A Friend' by Edwin McCain.
Extra note: For anyone wondering about the "Why can't I ever feel that way?" line from Santana last chapter... I'm sorry I left it as such a throwaway. In case you want to skip the big explanation and just want the short and sweet answer: She's insecure. She doesn't think she feels enough, and she doesn't because she doesn't let herself.
The first line of this entire fic is 'I should be happy' and it's shortly followed by 'Why aren't I happy?'. This is an important starting point because it shows right away how insecure Santana is. The first statement shows her insecurity with her own feelings―she most often thinks she should be feeling something other than what she's actually experiencing (another example being when she thinks she 'should hate Rachel'.) The second statement is simple self-shaming (even self-loathing) because she can't live up to this idealized vision of what she thinks she should be feeling. Seeing the picture of Finn looking completely elated on Rachel's arm is like a slap in the face because it brings Santana's insecurities to the surface. Seeing that glorified emotion that she can't even hope to grasp, she feels jealous, like her own feelings are somehow inferior or inadequate (back to the shaming.)
My theory of why she'd be like this is simple: I believe that thisfic!Santana would have deep-seeded abandonment issues. Between having a father who left and an absentee mother, Santana knows nothing but self-reliance. She doesn't want to let anything in. If she lets herself feel, she maks herself vulnerable, and that's not something she wants―to open herself up to being hurt. Of course, as the story has gone on, cracks have formed in her facade (ohai character development!) and this should, ideally, continue... but she's not gonna do a complete 180 in the, what, two-three weeks she's been hanging out with Rachel when she's probably spent a good portion of her formative years reinforcing her walls.
To simplify this entire mess: Some people beat themselves up about their appearance, Santana beats herself up about her feelings. It all stems from the same place: self-esteem issues.
*shrug* Hope that helps clarify :) I probably agonized more over this explanation than I do over actually writing the chapters lol.