Sup y'all, SO sorry about the wait, it's Easter break here at the moment, so I've been super busy catching up with my friends since they're all off uni and stuff.
Thank you very much for all your reviews, favourites, follows etc, I appreciate them :)
And I know I said I'd stop clogging up A/Ns with fic recs, but evidently I lied, and you should all be reading The Journal by silverdoe14, cause it's awesome.
Hope you enjoy! :)
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
Santana wakes up the next morning to pretty much the greatest fucking thing in the world; a half naked Brittany cuddling her from behind and dusting soft kisses across the back of her neck and the tops of her shoulders.
Unable to stop the grin from slowly spreading across her face – not that she bothers trying, really – Santana hums out a contented sigh and snuggles further back into Brittany's warm body, keeping her eyes shut even when Brittany presses a kiss to just below her ear. A few more kisses get dotted along her skin, and Santana feels Brittany smile against her when she shifts her hand from where it's flung haphazardly across the sheets to tangle in Brittany's fingers resting on her stomach.
"Good morning." Brittany murmurs into her ear, and Santana does her best not to melt.
Blinking her eyes open sleepily, she spares a moment to shout internally at herself for not bothering to take her contacts out last night, cause her eyes hurt like a bitch now, before stretching, and rolling over to face Brittany.
And well, waking up to Brittany's gorgeous blue eyes is definitely something Santana could get used to.
"Morning gorgeous." Santana replies, her voice still low and thick from sleep. "How long have you been awake?"
"Only a few minutes. You're cute when you sleep." Brittany says, and Santana should probably find that creepy on some level, but there is nothing not good about Brittany thinking she's cute, so.
Santana smiles like a moron, before pushing herself up onto her elbow so she can peek over Brittany's shoulder at her alarm clock, to see that it's just gone 8am. Her first thought is something along the polite lines of why the actual fuck are we awake so goddamn fucking early, and her second, but more important thought, is that the other four will still be passed out, so she doesn't hesitate to drop back down to the bed, shuffling forward until she can kiss Brittany.
The blonde inhales sharply in surprise, before relaxing against Santana, kissing her back slowly. It's just a simple, drawn out good morning kiss, nothing more than their lips sliding softly against each others, but then the hand resting on Santana's lower back is pushing gently, urging her forward, and Santana's nipples are brushing against the fabric of Brittany's bra, and the previous night comes flooding back to Santana in one very nice, very hot memory.
The images flash through her brain, Brittany's face contorted in pleasure when Santana was squeezing her boobs, Brittany's fingers circling her own nipples, Brittany's hands on her thighs, pushing her legs apart, and she whimpers quietly, trying to press closer to the blonde as she opens her mouth against Brittany's and kisses her deeper, their tongues brushing together instantly. Heat spreads through her body as she wraps her arms around Brittany's shoulders, and the hands on her back drop down to cup her ass, pulling her closer until they're pressed together fully, chest to chest and hips to hips.
Santana moans, slightly louder when Brittany sucks on her tongue, and raises her hands to tangle in Brittany's hair, brushing it out of the way so it doesn't interfere with their kiss.
They kiss for long moments, each one feeling simultaneously like too much and not enough for Santana, and somewhere along the line, Brittany shifts until she's in Santana's lap, her never ending, and very bare legs on either side of Santana's equally as bare waist. Santana's hands immediately slide down from her hips to her legs – she's only human – stroking her palms over Brittany's thighs.
Santana makes a mental note to ask Brittany what moisturizer she uses, because Brittany's skin is ridiculously soft, but her brain pretty much shorts out when Brittany's tongue dips back into her mouth and the blonde kisses her deeply, her quiet whimpering sending vibrations through Santana's body.
Santana's hands curve around to the backs of Brittany's thighs, sliding slowly up until they're on the blonde's ass, squeezing gently. Brittany moans quietly, breaking the kiss to gasp for air, before nudging Santana's jaw up with her nose so she can kiss down her throat.
Santana sighs out a soft hum of Brittany's name, her hands moving to trail up the blonde's back, getting lost in the feel of Brittany's lips pressing against her skin, Brittany's tongue sliding against her pulse point, Brittany's teeth grazing along her collarbone.
If there's a better way to wake up, Santana isn't aware of it. Cause waking up like this? With Brittany invading her every sense and surrounding her completely? Totally the best morning ever.
Before they can get too carried away, Brittany starts slowing down the kiss until they're just exchanging gentle pecks. Kissing Santana a final time, she pulls back slightly, resting her forehead against Santana's. "Okay no, now it's a good morning." She giggles, and Santana can't help but laugh, smiling dopily at her favorite blonde as she lets her palms return to the smooth skin of Brittany's thighs, still marvelling at how soft they are.
Her thoughts on Brittany's skincare regime are cut short when the blonde suddenly sits up, the sheets covering them pooling at her waist, before raising her arms above her head and stretching.
Santana's possibly drooling, but she couldn't give a crap when all this bare Brittany is suddenly in front of her, the early morning sunlight filtering through the curtains hitting all of Brittany's delicious curves just right.
She can pretty much feel all the fluid in her mouth leaving to head somewhere much further south as she trails her eyes across Brittany's body, her head tilted back slightly as she stretches, blonde hair tumbling over her shoulders, eyes closed and a content smile on her face.
Santana drops her gaze to Brittany's chest, and spends a few seconds appreciating Brittany's perfect boobs, and the blue bra encasing them. She tries not to give in to the sudden burning temptation to sit up and ravish the blonde's chest with her lips, teeth, tongue and probably fingers, because even though she definitely did not get enough one-on-one time with Brittany's tits last night, there'll be plenty of other opportunities to fully appreciate Brittany's body – she hopes – when they are completely alone.
Sliding her left hand up from Brittany's thigh, Santana brushes her fingers against the blonde's abs, distracted by the feel of the muscles flexing under her touch, and over her hips before sliding up the gentle curve of Brittany's waist, and she wonders how the hell she got so lucky.
When she eventually manages to drag her eyes back up to the blonde's face, Brittany's looking down at her with an amused smile, her arms still raised above her head as she gathers her hair into a ponytail.
"Done yet?" She questions with a giggle, and Santana laughs, grabbing at Brittany's hands affectionately when they lower to rest on her stomach, tangling their fingers together. Brittany pokes her in the stomach, and when she looks down towards their hands, it's then that she realizes she's still topless.
Santana's never exactly been shy about her body, she knows she's hot and okay, the boob job was a momentary lapse in her self-esteem, but she can't help but start to feel a tiny bit self-conscious when she feels Brittany's gaze drift up from their entwined hands to her bare chest.
At this point Brittany is hardly a stranger to her boobs, and Santana had been in a pretty open position last night, but that had been when the lights were off, and any other time Brittany had been preoccupied with her chest she'd still had clothes on.
Now, Santana can feel the early morning sunlight on her skin, and Brittany can see everything. She feels very open. She doesn't know if she likes it.
"What?" She says, slightly uncomfortable under Brittany's scrutinizing gaze.
"Nothing," Brittany breathes, letting one hand drift up Santana's stomach, between her boobs before brushing her fingers over a spot on Santana's collarbone. Santana tries to look down to see what's caught Brittany's attention, probably giving herself an attractive triple chin in the process, and smirks when she sees a fresh bruise blooming on her skin.
Guess she'll be digging out the concealer before leaving her room then.
"You're just…" Brittany continues, moving her hand up to cup Santana's cheek, and Santana pulls herself up into a sitting position, wrapping her arms around Brittany's waist and brushing her lips against her cheek, the reverent way Brittany's looking at her sending a familiar flush through her body, and making her want to be as close as possible to the blonde.
"I'm what?" Santana says, smiling at the shiver that runs through Brittany when she presses her lips to the spot just below Brittany's ear that she's discovered makes the blonde practically melt.
"You're the most beautiful woman I've ever seen." Brittany's whispers back immediately, winding her arms around Santana's neck and nuzzling closer.
Santana tries to keep her mini heart attack subtle, and bites her lip to try and contain the enormous smile that spreads across her face, but then thinks fuck it, and leans back until she can see Brittany's face, an adorable pink blush painting her pretty face.
"Really?" Santana whispers, and they could probably be shouting and it wouldn't wake the others, Kurt could probably sleep through a nuclear bomb, but it feels so much more special, more intimate when they're both whispering.
Brittany bites her lips and nods, a soft smile coming over her face.
"Thank you, but I have to disagree with you," Santana says, trying to resist the urge to kiss the adorable confused look off the blonde's face. "I mean, I'm kinda biased, but I happen to think you're the most beautiful woman in the world."
Possibly one of, if not the cheesiest thing Santana has ever said, but she's decided to give up caring how much of a main character in a romance novel she sounds like, especially considering the way her little compliments make Brittany's already gorgeous face light up even more.
Brittany leans down to kiss Santana, pressing their lips together gently and flicking her tongue against her bottom lip, and Santana is more than happy to just tug Brittany down and stay cuddled up with her the rest of the morning, but her stomach chooses that exact moment to rumble loudly.
And of course, it isn't just a small grumble that only Santana would feel; it's one of those foghorn growls that sound like a whale's mating call.
Brittany pauses in kissing her, and Santana groans in embarrassment when she feels Brittany start to giggle, before pulling back and looking down at Santana, pressing her lips together to try and stop laughing.
Another loud rumble echoes through her room, and Santana lets herself fall back onto the bed in defeat, pouting up at Brittany when she bursts into giggles.
"Breakfast?"
/
"Are you okay?" Brittany says through a mouthful of toast.
"Huh?" Santana replies distractedly, rooting around in the refrigerator for some blueberry jam. If that pig Quinn has eaten it all…
"About last night…" Santana pauses her jam hunt, looking over her shoulder to where Brittany's sat at the table, in a pair of Santana's pyjamas. Well, a white tank top and bright red flannel pants – a coming out present courtesy of Kurt – she'd found at the bottom of her underwear drawer. A tank top that is tight enough on Santana, so on Brittany…
Santana snaps her gaze up from Brittany's chest when the blonde clears her throat, an eyebrow raised in amusement.
"Sorry, what?" Santana says innocently, smirking when Brittany rolls her eyes, contradicting herself slightly with the smile tugging at the corner of her lips.
"As I was saying, I mean, you obviously have your reasons for wanting to take things slow, and what happened last night wasn't exactly slow, so I just wanted to make sure you were okay. I kinda feel like I might have pressured you-"
"What? No, no Britt, you didn't, I promise." Santana interrupts, forgetting about the jam situation and whirling round to face Brittany completely. "I liked it. Uh, I mean," Santana pauses, feeling herself flush, although she's not sure why, since she's done much dirtier things that she's then proceeded to inform Quinn or Kurt about in great detail while managing to keep a straight face. "You didn't like force me or anything, I wanted to. Yeah, it really was not slow, but uh, I think I needed it."
At Brittany's questioning look, Santana ignores the way her face is heating up and takes a deep breath before talking again. "I mean, you turn me on so fucking much, sometimes I feel like I'm going to explode if I don't get some kind of relief," Brittany's confused look morphs quickly into an evil smirk. Tease. "I don't think I could have done, you know, everything, with you last night, but what we did do… It was amazing, Britt."
"So you don't regret it?" Brittany asks apprehensively, fiddling with the crust of her toast.
"I don't." Santana confirms, smiling at Brittany's adorable nervous expression.
Glancing over to the sofa to make sure Kurt and Sebastian are still dead to the world, Santana crosses the kitchen, slides into the seat next to Brittany and tangles their fingers together, lifting their joined hands to press a kiss onto Brittany's knuckles.
"I just," Santana starts, ignoring the sudden attack of nerves. "I don't really have a great track record, mixing sex with feelings, and I meant what I said about wanting to do this right."
Brittany smiles affectionately at her, squeezing her fingers in encouragement.
"I just need a little more time to, you know, be ready." Santana mumbles, rolling her eyes internally at how much of a cliché she sounds.
A smile slowly spreads over Brittany's face, the corners of her lips tugging up until the smile reaches her eyes, and she leans forward to kiss Santana quickly. "Okay. Take as much time as you need."
A loud groan coming from the direction of Kurt and Sebastian cuts off the beginning of Santana's reply, so she just smiles softly in reply, dropping Brittany's hands, standing up and returning to the refrigerator.
"Oh my God I've never been so hungover in my life." Kurt's disgruntled voice sounds through the living room, and Santana pokes her head around the refrigerator door to look at them.
Kurt's running a hand through his hair, and the only time Santana ever sees him without it perfectly coiffed is in hungover moments like this. She's not sure where his hat vanished off to, and most of the straw is all over the hallway floor for some reason. Sebastian wakes up when Kurt nudges him, blinking groggily around the room.
"How much did I drink last night?" He asks no one in particular, and Santana giggles triumphantly. It's a rare occasion she's not the most hungover – or still drunk – one the next morning.
After finally locating the fucking jam behind a massive block of cheese on the top shelf, Santana strolls over to the toaster oven and shoves half a loaf of bread into it. The toaster oven was a housewarming present from their neighbor when they first moved in, and despite the fact she had been particularly horrified at him thinking her and Quinn were a couple, she is very thankful for it, considering how much she likes toast.
Kurt stumbles into the kitchen, rubbing his eyes sleepily before making a beeline for the coffee machine. Setting two plates of toast on the table, Santana sits down next to Brittany and immediately starts digging into her breakfast. Well, part one of her breakfast since she plans on bullying Rachel into making pancakes when she eventually wakes up. She's hungry okay?
Sebastian appears next to Kurt in the kitchen, and Santana is tempted to make a snarky comment about the silly smile on Kurt's face when Sebastian kisses his cheek before heading for the bathroom to have a shower and wash all the blue paint off his body.
The toast in her mouth and the fact Kurt will just fire back with a comment about how she's exactly the same with Brittany stops her, so she just keeps chewing, looking over curiously when Brittany nudges her leg with her toe playfully.
The blonde smiles impishly at her, before running her foot up Santana's bare leg, making her nearly jump out of her seat.
Fucking tease, she mouths at Brittany, and she just smirks back at Santana, brushing her toes higher.
Brittany is literally going to cause her to explode. She's going to end up combusting in a rainbow firework of sexual frustration and unfulfilled fantasies.
What a way to go though.
/
Rachel and Quinn make an appearance just after 9.30am. Sebastian is on his way out, saying something about having to meet his parents for brunch, when Quinn's door flies open and Rachel appears in the hallway, yawning loudly.
Quinn follows her out, heading into the bathroom, and Santana hears her clattering around in the medicine cupboard, presumably looking for painkillers.
"Quinn! The aspirin is through here!" Santana shouts, giggling evilly when Rachel whines at her to keep her voice down as she throws herself dramatically into the seat next to Brittany.
Echoing the statement, albeit in a much less polite way – fucking hell Santana, shut the hell up – Quinn wanders into the kitchen, pouncing on the small box of aspirin sitting on the counter, taking two before throwing the box towards Rachel.
Quinn makes some coffee for Rachel and herself, and after a bit of prodding and pouting from Santana and Brittany, Rachel huffily agrees to make the five of them pancakes.
/
Quinn is playing about on her phone, occasionally mhmm babe-ing to whatever Rachel's yapping on about, when she taps Santana's arm and breaks her out of gazing lovingly at Brittany.
"Mercedes can't do dinner next Sunday anymore, but she wants to know if we can do lunch instead?" Quinn asks, looking unamused when Santana just looks at her blankly. "You forgot, didn't you?"
"Forgot what?"
"Los Angeles?"
Oh. Yes, Santana had forgotten about that.
"No, of course I didn't forget." Santana protests, and Quinn just rolls her eyes before returning to her phone, apparently deciding for them and typing back a reply to Mercedes.
"Los Angeles?" Brittany asks from the other side of Santana, taking a sip of her orange juice.
"Yeah, Quinn and I are going to Los Angeles next weekend, there's a big design convention on that we're both speaking at. We leave Saturday afternoon then get back Tuesday evening."
"Wednesday evening." Quinn corrects her, not bothering to look up from her phone. "Speaking of, Britt would you be okay overseeing the photography department while we're away?" She then asks, leaning forward slightly to see past Santana.
Brittany nods, looking excited at the prospect of being in charge, a thought that quickly turns dirty in Santana's mind. Thoughts of Brittany topping the hell out of her are derailed when Rachel drops a massive plate of pancakes down in the middle of the table and she watches in amusement as Quinn and Kurt both lunge for the top one at the same time.
/
"You should tell her, you know." Kurt's annoying voice breaks the silence in the kitchen, and Santana sighs, because Kurt, much as she loves him, just does not know when to shut up, before turning round in her chair to fix Kurt with an unimpressed look.
"What?" She deadpans, raising her eyebrows at him. If he has the death wish of telling her he thinks she should tell Brittany she loves her, he is going to find the cup of maple syrup sitting next to her empty plate flying towards him very quickly.
Kurt turns around, taking a sip of the hundredth coffee he's just poured and leaning back against the counter, before nodding towards the front door, where Quinn and Brittany have evidently gotten side tracked with saying goodbye and are now chattering excitedly about something.
Santana glances up at them, smiling softly when Brittany starts flapping her arms around enthusiastically, and nearly burns herself when she tries to take a sip of her own coffee, missing her mouth completely.
"Quinn," Kurt elaborates. "You should tell her about you and Brittany."
Santana whips her head round to glare at him, growling a vague threat about keeping his voice down, despite the fact that there's no way Quinn or Brittany would be able to hear them at the opposite end of the hall, let alone over Rachel's singing in the shower.
"And why the hell would I do that? She'd kill me." Santana scoffs, turning back to her pancakes.
"And how do you think she's going to react if she finds out some other way?" Kurt's voice sounds vaguely threatening, and Santana stands up, turns around and fixes him with the coldest glare she can muster.
"If you tell her, I swear to God I will kick you so hard in the balls, you'll be singing falsetto the rest of your life."
"Santana, calm down, I'm not going to tell her. God, what kind of a friend do you think I am?" Kurt squeaks, sounding both offended and mildly terrified. "I just meant what if she walks in on you, or someone else finds out and then tells her?"
Santana pauses, keeping her eyes narrowed at Kurt for dramatic effect. He does have a point. Quinn has nearly walked in on them a few times already, and hot as it is to be nearly caught, eventually their luck will run out and Quinn will see something. Or at least see enough to figure it out.
Fuck, she was enjoying their afternoon make out sessions in her office.
"You're the only one who knows, and you're not going to tell her, are you Kurt?" Santana says eventually.
"Of course not," Kurt replies, taking another sip of his coffee before brushing past Santana, swiping his finger through the remains of the maple syrup on his plate. "But how do you know I'm the only one who knows?"
Santana's eyebrows furrow in confusion. "You're the only person I've told," Santana pauses. "Well, you're the only one who figured it out."
"Has Brittany told anyone?" Kurt asks, licking the syrup off his finger before looking questioningly at Santana.
Santana is about to scoff a condescending of course she hasn't, but pauses before the words can escape. Has Brittany told anyone? She's nearly 100 per cent sure Sam doesn't know, and obviously Quinn doesn't either, but Brittany's close friends with Tina and Unique as well, and there's always a chance Brittany's confided in someone about them.
She likes to think she'd be able to tell if Tina knows or not, but she isn't sure, and she definitely doesn't know Unique well enough to be comfortable with the possibility of her knowing about Santana's personal life.
Ignoring Kurt's stare burning into the side of her face, she waves goodbye to Brittany when Quinn eventually shuts up and lets her leave, making a mental note to ask Brittany about the possibility of other people knowing another time.
/
Rachel and Kurt eventually fuck off an hour after Brittany, leaving Quinn and Santana alone to tidy up the carnage left over from the night before.
It takes them a few hours to clean the living room, Quinn insisting on going the whole nine yards and hoovering and dusting everywhere, and Santana is scrubbing a dubious stain off the kitchen counter when Quinn pops up the other side of it.
"You and Brittany are awfully close."
Well Quinn is certainly straight to the point today.
"And?" Santana says, hoping Quinn will drop the subject.
"Why'd she stay here last night?" Evidently luck is not on her side today.
"Mercedes went home with Sam, and Britt wasn't too into the idea of listening to them going at it all night."
Quinn looks at her calculatingly for a moment, and Santana realizes she said Britt instead of Brittany at the same time Quinn speaks again.
"Where'd she sleep?"
"In my bed, I slept on the floor." Quinn arches an eyebrow at her and Santana rolls her eyes, returning to scrubbing at the stain. "I'm not the monster everyone makes me out to be, you know, that sofa is uncomfy as shit to sleep on, I wasn't gonna make her sleep there."
"You are just friends though, aren't you Santana?" Quinn says after a pause, in that level tone that Santana knows means answer very fucking carefully Santana Lopez.
Santana gulps, before flinging the sponge into the sink and wiping her hands on a towel, turning around to face Quinn.
"What exactly are you implying here Fabray?" Santana says, hoping she sounds casual as she makes her way into the hallway with a giant bin bag, starting to pull the cobwebs off the wall.
"That I've seen the way Brittany looks at you. I think she has a crush on you. I also think it might be mutual." Quinn replies instantly. Well. Shit.
Keeping her back to Quinn, Santana forces out a cross between a laugh and a scoff. "A crush? We're not in middle school anymore."
"Santana." Quinn snaps, and Santana sighs, abandoning the cobwebs to look at Quinn.
"Quinn, I am not sleeping with our employee," It's technically not a lie… "Nothing is going on with Brittany and me," Okay now she's lying. "We're just friends, okay?"
Quinn narrows her eyes suspiciously, but doesn't press the issue further, instead twirling round and heading for their pile of takeout menus, asking if Santana would prefer pizza or Chinese tonight.
Santana says pizza, and she gets back to cleaning the hallway. She is now officially lying to Quinn about her and Brittany. There's a feeling stirring in her stomach that she eventually identifies as guilt, and she tries to ignore it, hoping it'll go away.
It doesn't.
Santana has no idea how Quinn is going to react when she eventually finds out about her and Brittany, but she knows her best friend will be hurt about the lying.
Jesus, why can't things ever be simple?
/
Mid-Monday afternoon, Brittany comes sweeping into Santana's office, shutting the door with a seductive smile, and really, this is becoming a regular occurrence that Santana has absolutely no problem with.
"Good afternoon, Miss Lopez." Brittany smirks, stalking towards Santana's desk, and really, Brittany staying "in character" of the good employee – despite the fact everyone at Lopez-Fabray is on first name terms – should not be this hot, but Santana feels like a horny teenage boy when Brittany leans forward and rests her hands on the desk, seemingly completely aware of the fact Santana can now see right down the front of her shirt.
There isn't a specific dress code at the studio, the employees can wear whatever they like – Santana and Quinn just dress up a bit more considering they're the bosses – but Brittany's clearly been taking a leaf out of Santana's book, and holy shit does she pull off lesbian power suit well. The bright red shoes kind of throw Santana off a bit, but the skin-tight black jeans – the blonde is apparently taking a few liberties with her definition of the word suit – white shirt with the top few buttons undone, and the black suspenders, oh God the fucking suspenders, are a very welcome distraction to the boring paperwork Santana's working on.
Really, it should be illegal to be as hot as Brittany is. Santana feels like she's about to explode.
Brittany clears her throat slightly, and Santana drags her eyes up from the black bra covering creamy skin to blink innocently at the blonde. "Can I help you with something, Miss Pierce?"
Brittany bites her lip in that maddeningly distracting way she does, and Santana's gaze fixates on the blonde's mouth, watching her lips curve into a smirk. "I was just wondering what you were doing later?"
Santana knows exactly what, or rather who, she'd like to be doing, and she's pretty sure Brittany has a fairly good idea of what she's trying hard not to think about, if the way the blonde's eyes have dropped to Santana's lips is any indication.
Santana leans back in her seat, picking up a pen and absent-mindedly twirling it around, then smirking when Brittany's eyes snap to her fingers. "I didn't have any plans. Are you offering?"
Her smirk grows when Brittany's darkened eyes shoot back to her own, but it falls off her face and she squeaks when Brittany stalks around her desk, leaning down to rest her hands against the armrests, trapping Santana against her chair and towering over her.
"Sam's not gonna be home tonight." Brittany whispers, her eyes locked on Santana's lips, and well, since Brittany doesn't seem too bothered about eye contact, Santana lets her own hungry gaze drop to Brittany's chest again, and up close, she realizes the black bra is actually a black lacy bra. Holy shit.
"What are you suggesting?" Santana replies lowly, and her voice has dropped down to that husky I want you tone, which she knows turns Brittany on.
"Well," Brittany starts, leaning forward to brush her lips against Santana's cheek. "If you don't have plans," Her lips slide down to Santana's jaw, sucking gently at the skin. Santana bites down on the whimper threatening to slip through her lips. "If you wanted some, you could come over." Brittany's lips are now at her ear, and she bites gently at Santana's earlobe.
Pulling back, Brittany bites on her bottom lip again, slowly dragging her eyes up from Santana's lips to her eyes. "Just a suggestion." She adds, with a raise of her eyebrows.
Santana loses the battle with herself and whimpers quietly at the lust filled way Brittany is looking at her. It suddenly feels like a million degrees inside her office, and she gulps, reaching forward to grasp a hold of Brittany's suspenders.
Tugging on them until Brittany gets the hint and clambers into her lap, Santana leans forward to kiss Brittany's throat, breathing in deeply and inhaling the blonde's intoxicating scent. Smelling someone might be a little weird, but Brittany smells so fucking good, a mix of her perfume and coconuts from a body wash or moisturizer or something.
"And what are you suggesting we do?" Santana mumbles against the skin of Brittany's neck, brushing her lips against where she knows she left a hickey on Saturday night. Brittany whimpers, her hands sliding up to tangle in Santana's hair, pressing gently on the top of her head until Santana moves her kisses lower, sliding her lips across Brittany's collarbone.
"We could watch a movie," Brittany starts, the fingers in her hair tightening slightly when Santana lifts her hand to move the shirt's collar out of the way and presses a hot, open-mouthed kiss against the exposed skin, sucking gently when Brittany cuts herself off with a groan.
"And cuddle on the sofa," The blonde in her lap continues, whimpering and rocking her hips down when Santana's hands land on her ass, squeezing through the tight fabric of her jeans.
"And?" Santana prompts, brushing her nose along the ridge of Brittany's collarbone before moving lower still, dragging her lips along the beginning swell of Brittany's breast.
"Fuck, Santana," Brittany moans quietly when Santana drags her hands up Brittany's back and around her torso, before palming both breasts at once, squeezing and massaging them gently.
Santana's not sure how Brittany asking her what she was doing later turned into her groping the blonde while she straddled her, but she's not really complaining, especially not when Brittany keeps whimpering her name in that hot as fuck, breathy moan she does.
"Keep talking Britt-Britt." Santana teases mockingly, smirking up at the blonde.
"Um, we could cuddle," Brittany says breathlessly, her eyes locked onto Santana's fingers as they slowly move from her tits to the top button on her shirt, popping it open slowly, before doing the same to the second button, revealing most of the black lacy bra encasing Brittany's boobs.
"You already said that." Santana murmurs, before leaning forward and kissing the swell of flesh, sliding her tongue along the hem of the bra and sucking gently on the skin of Brittany's right breast. Brittany seems to appreciate it, her nails digging into Santana's scalp and her head tossing back, panting heavily.
"We could do… Stuff." Brittany mutters distractedly, arching her back slightly and holding Santana's face closer to her boobs.
"Santana," Brittany whines when Santana leans back from her chest, and Santana laughs, tilting her head up until the blonde kisses her.
They really shouldn't be doing this in her office, since there's no way of easily explaining it away if anyone, say, Quinn, were to walk in. And Santana knows they definitely need to be more careful now that Quinn is suspicious, but seeing Brittany like this, so turned on, so wanton, drives her crazy and makes her forget anything that isn't to do with the gorgeous blonde.
Her desk phone starts ringing loudly, and they both jump in shock, nearly falling off the chair. Caught up in giggling, Santana doesn't answer the phone in time, and Kitty's voice comes floating through the answering machine, informing Santana there's a client here to visit her and Quinn.
Santana groans, letting her head fall back against the chair. Sitting in a meeting with Quinn and Mr. Stevenson, the owner of some cosmetics company is not exactly preferable to staying here, with Brittany on top of her.
"I have to go." She pouts up at the blonde, and Brittany giggles, swooping down to give her another kiss.
"I'll see you later though?" Brittany whispers against Santana's lips, and she nods, capturing the blonde's sweet lips a final time before nudging Brittany off her lap.
Santana watches Brittany skip out of her office, a flirtatious wink thrown over her shoulder, before shaking her head and gulping down the rest of her glass of water in an attempt to tame the raging arousal now burning through her body.
It doesn't really work.
/
Apparently Santana's luck is still noticeably absent, since she gets a text from Brittany at around 7pm while she's getting ready to go over to the blonde's. Quinn and Rachel are out having dinner with Kurt and Sebastian thankfully, so she hadn't had to worry about Quinn wondering where she was going.
Hey sweetheart, change of plans, Sam is actually staying in tonight cause he and Mercedes had a massive fight :( Want to do something else? Xxx
Santana huffs, damn Fishface cockblocking them. She would invite Brittany over for a "movie night" here, but Quinn said her and Rachel were coming back after dinner for their own movie night. An actual movie night apparently, not a euphemism for something much dirtier. How boring.
Dammit, I was looking forward to "watching a movie" with you :P Of course, got anything in mind? Xxx
Santana smirks when she types the little emoticon, debating between a winky face and a tongue face. First world problems. She quickly does her make up, her phone buzzing a few minutes later.
So was I :P Your office this afternoon was just the previews :P Well I'm kinda having a froyo craving… Xxx
Santana bursts out laughing at Brittany's reply, typing back telling her to meet her at Pinkberry in 30 minutes.
/
They have their usual disagreement about whose turn it is to pay, and eventually Brittany wins, claiming that the Coney Island date was so amazing that she has to pay for this one, despite the fact she'd bought their coffee yesterday, and Santana is banished to find some seats.
Brittany's wearing tight blue jeans, and the heeled ankle boots she has on just make her ass and legs look even more amazing than usual, so Santana happily pervs and appreciates until Brittany pays, and starts making her way over to their table in the corner.
A pot of vanilla and raspberry frozen yogurt is set down in front of her, and she thanks Brittany before pouncing on it. Brittany giggles at her enthusiasm, digging into her own cup as well.
The television in the corner of the café is showing commercials at the moment, and it switches to one about Vogue just as Santana glances up at it. Reminded of her little chat with Kurt on Sunday, she places her spoon down and looks at the blonde across the table from her.
"Brittany, can I ask you something?"
Brittany looks up questioningly, sliding the spoon out from between her lips, and okay, distracting much.
"Um, have you told anyone about us?" Santana asks, her voice wavering on the word us. What us is exactly, is still undefined between them, and Santana gets nervous thinking about it. For there to be a proper us, they'd have to be officially together, in a relationship, girlfriends.
Which, honestly, is what Santana wants. She's still just scared she'll fuck something up, ruin the best damn thing that's ever happened to her.
She knows it's dumb, she trusts Brittany, and she loves Brittany, even if she hasn't admitted it out loud yet, but she can't. She's still just too scared.
Brittany is amazing, and perfect doesn't even come close to describing her, but Santana just can't let go of her fears. That Brittany won't love her back. That Brittany will leave her eventually, just like Spencer did, and just like her Dad did.
They're very deep thoughts to be having on their third date in a Pinkberry, so Santana is grateful when Brittany replies, breaking her out of her thoughts. "I have."
Well.
Santana freezes, staring at Brittany, who sighs and places her spoon down, reaching across the table to take Santana's hands. "I told Artie. He's my friend from back home, and I've told him about us, cause I needed to talk to someone about you."
"Wait, what about me?" Santana asks, furrowing her eyebrows in confusion.
"Well, I first told him about you after we kissed, and then you told me it couldn't happen again, cause I was kinda confused why you would kiss me then say it shouldn't have happened," Brittany says, and Santana instantly feels like crap for making the blonde feel like that. "But then you told me you liked me, and I liked you too, and now I kinda just use him to gush to about how amazing you are. He's like my agony aunt, except male. An agony uncle." Brittany finishes, blushing slightly.
Santana smiles – Brittany thinks she's amazing – before leaning over the table and gently kissing the blonde. Brittany smiles into the kiss, sucking lightly on Santana's bottom lip before brushing her tongue across it, and Santana pulls back before Brittany's tongue can get anywhere else, they're still in public after all, and leans back, smiling dopily at Brittany.
"Have you?" Brittany asks, but Santana is too distracted by Brittany sliding her tongue along her bottom lip, and Santana knows the blonde is tasting her on her lips, and the flush that spreads through her body at the thought of Brittany staring up at her from between her legs, licking her lips as she tastes Santana in another way, is far too inappropriate for public.
"Huh?" Santana says, refocusing on Brittany's bright blue eyes when the blonde says her name again.
"I said have you told anyone about us?"
Santana takes her hands back, picking up the spoon and returning to her yogurt. "Kurt knows." She tells Brittany before taking a spoonful of the delicious yogurt.
"I thought he did," Brittany nods, and continues at Santana's questioning look. "On Saturday, I was dancing with him and he told me not to hurt you."
Santana snorts at the thought of Kurt Hummel giving anyone the best friend's compulsory hurt her and I'll hurt you speech. He must have looked as threatening as a care bear.
"I told him he didn't have to worry, cause I have no intentions of hurting you." Brittany beams at her, left hand sliding across the table to tangle her fingers together with the ones on Santana's right hand. The perks of a lefty and a righty dating.
It's such a simple, sweet statement to make, but Santana can't help but fall in love with Brittany just that little bit more for it.
/
Wednesday evening, Santana is standing outside the studio, waiting for Quinn to hurry the fuck up so they can head home, when her phone beeps. Shouting at herself for forgetting to bring gloves, since the temperature seems to be dropping by the hour, she fumbles around in her jacket pocket until she locates it, pulling it out and clicking open the text.
Sup Lopez, you still at the studio?
Santana squints at the screen in confusion, wondering why Puck's asking.
I'm waiting for Quinn, we're just about to leave. Why?
Santana glances up towards the window, glaring when she sees no sign of Quinn.
"Oh, I won't be long San, just five minutes, San, wait for me, San. Fucking bitch." Santana squeaks to herself, doing a horrible impression of Quinn, before unlocking her phone when it beeps again.
Mind swinging by the bar on your way home? Got something I wanna ask ya.
Santana's confusion grows when Puck sends another text almost immediately after.
Don't bring Quinn tho.
"Consider me sold." Santana mutters to herself, firing a quick text to Quinn informing her she's not freezing her tits off any longer bitch, see you at home before zipping her jacket further up and flinging her arm out for a cab.
/
Walking into Puckerman's, Santana ignores the wolf whistles coming from the drunken idiots by the pool table and makes her way up to the bar, sliding onto an empty barstool near the end of the bar.
Puck's nowhere to be seen, so she assumes he's in the back, changing a keg or something equally as exciting, so she orders a drink from the blonde girl behind the bar and shrugs off her jacket, pulling her phone out of her pocket and unlocking it.
Hey baby, how are you? I didn't get to see you today :( xxx
Santana rolls her eyes at herself out of habit, if she misses Brittany after one day, she's sure she'll be more delightful than usual when her and Quinn are in Los Angeles.
Her phone beeps at the same time her drink is set down in front of her, and she waves the bartender off with a put it on Puck's tab, and opens the reply from Brittany.
I'm gooood, Sam and I are having a movie night :D Well, I'm watching the movie and he's staring at his phone. I think he and Mercedes are still on the stones :( how are you? xxx
Santana feels a bit of sympathy for Sam, he seems like a genuinely nice guy, so when she sees Mercedes at the weekend, they'll be having a little chat about a certain big-lipped blond. She takes a sip of her drink before starting to reply, but her phone buzzes again before she can.
Oh and I miss you too :P xxx
She laughs, and smiles like a fool at her phone, pointedly ignoring the bartender when the blonde shoots a weird look at her.
Who said I miss you :P well I'll see Mercedes this weekend, I'll talk to her for Sam if he'd like? I'm good too, I'm at Puck's cause he said he wanted to talk about something… I'm worried lol xxx
As if on cue, the door leading to the back of the bar flies open and Puck appears. He says something to the bartender before spotting Santana, grabbing a beer and walking around to her side of the bar, dropping himself into the stool next to her.
"Sup hottie."
"Are you allowed to drink on the job?" Santana asks dryly, arching her eyebrows at the bottle in Puck's hand.
"Nah, I'm off duty now. Katie can handle the rest of the night." He nods towards the blonde girl polishing glasses at the other end of the bar.
Santana glances over at Katie, who smiles nervously and blushes when she notices Santana looking at her. Oh God.
"She's cute." Santana says, since Puck will probably get suspicious if she sees an, admittedly very attractive, girl and doesn't make a comment.
"Yeah she is," Puck agrees, taking a loud gulp of his beer before putting it down on the bar. "Kinda what I wanted to talk to you about."
He grins at her like he knows something she doesn't, and she just raises her eyebrows, wondering what the hell he's talking about.
"I'm kinda hurt you know, you been holding out on me Lopez." Puck continues, and Santana just gives him a look that clearly states I have no idea what the fuck you're talking about.
"Oh come on, you're seriously not gonna tell me?" Puck says, holding his hand over his heart and trying to sound sincere. Key word, trying. "Talk about harsh. I thought we were friends, bro."
"Puck," Santana says, trying to ignore the weird feeling in her stomach. Puck doesn't know, there's no way he can know. "First off, don't ever call me your bro again," Puck opens his mouth as if to protest but Santana holds up a finger, shutting him up. "I will accept lesbro however. And second of all, what the hell are you talking about?"
"You and Blondie!" Puck exclaims, looking offended that Santana doesn't know what he's on about. Santana pauses, a feeling similar to dread starting to spread through her body.
Puck can't know. How can he possibly know?
The small, rational part of Santana's brain is telling her that Puck hasn't actually said Brittany's name, so he could just have seen her talking to a blonde girl and assumed, like Quinn had done when they had been at Institute with Holly and her friends.
But the bigger, irrational part of her brain ignores that completely, and Santana can feel herself starting to panic at the thought of Puck possibly having figured out there's more to Brittany and Santana that just friendly professionalism.
More importantly, if Puck can figure it out, then there's a way higher chance that Quinn could figure it out. Shit.
Thankfully Puck is still dim enough not to pick up on Santana's silence, and just continues yapping about how wounded he is Santana hasn't told him. Picking up her own drink, Santana downs the remaining quarter of the bottle to attempt to calm her nerves, and swivels round on the stool to face Puck completely.
"Puck, I really have no idea what you're talking about. Maybe you could try, oh I don't know, explaining?" She says sarcastically, automatically sliding into defensive, folding her arms across her chest and cocking her head to the side condescendingly.
Puck huffs, before waving at Katie and gesturing for two more drinks. "Okay, you know my bro, like, actual little brother, Jake?"
Santana just stares at him.
"You've met him like three times. Yeah, you were like blackout drunk two of those times, but you have met him." Puck continues, grabbing at his drink when Katie appears and sets them down, smiling shyly at Santana again before leaving.
Just what Santana needs, another girl all moon-eyed over her. Fantastic. Although, Santana muses as she takes a sip of her own drink, jealous Brittany could be kinda hot…
She's saved from her thoughts going into more pervy territory when something Puck says catches her attention. "And apparently it's not as lame as it sounds, but Jake works at a Pinkberry."
Santana freezes, her hand holding her drink still mid-air. Fuck.
"And Jake told me earlier that he saw you and some hot blonde chick on what was definitely a date."
Santana can't even deny it was a date, considering the whole holding hands and kisses thing. Crap.
"So come on Lezpez, who's the lucky lady?" Puck smirks, waggling his eyebrows before taking a large gulp of his beer. "I mean, obviously it's not Quinn since she's all shacked up with Berry now, and it's not gonna be that Brittany chick, hot as she is, so-"
Santana stiffens at Brittany's name, and then whips round to glare at Puck, cutting him off.
"What? I was just saying-" Puck pauses, his eyes widening and his mouth slowly dropping open as realization washes across his face. "No fucking way."
There's a choice of two things Santana could do. The more intelligent option would be to deny everything and pray Puck doesn't ask Quinn about Blondie, but because Santana's an idiot, she does the exact opposite.
"You cannot tell Quinn." She hisses, desperation edging into her tone as she basically confirms what Puck is thinking.
"You're banging a chick that works for you?" Puck stares at her incredulously, lowering his voice when a couple sitting a few seats down from them look towards them. "Are you crazy, isn't that like, illegal?"
"No, it's not illegal, just..." Santana trails off, dropping her eyes to her lap, cradling her drink in her hands.
"Like way unprofessional," Puck finishes for her. "I mean dude are you even thinking about the consequences of boning your employee or are you just rationalizing with your vagina again?"
"Puck!" Any other situation Santana would have burst out laughing at that comment, but she can feel the panic spreading through her body.
This is what she's been afraid of, someone finding out and not approving. She knows Puck is just looking out for her, since sleeping with your employee is a bit on the unprofessional side and could have the unfortunate side effect of ruining both Santana's, Brittany's and Lopez-Fabray's reputation, but she'd been happy to blissfully ignore that up until now.
"Dude I'm serious. Like, can't you get done for sexual harassment or something?"
Santana freezes. Shit. Puck has a point. Can she?
She probably could if Brittany pressed charges, but the blonde has no reason to. They're technically dating, Brittany's said she likes Santana a lot, and most of the time it's Brittany doing all the teasing and seducing, getting her all flustered, so it's not like Santana is forcing Brittany into anything.
"Brittany wouldn't do that." Santana says eventually, wondering if she stares at the label on her bottle long enough if it'll burst into flames.
"How do you know?"
"I just do!" Santana snaps, glaring at him in response, and Puck recoils slightly at her outburst. "Okay, Puck, she just wouldn't." She sighs out, returning her gaze to the bottle in her hands, picking at the edge of the label in nervousness.
"Okay. I mean, if you say so, you're gonna know your girlfriend better than I do."
Santana's head snaps back up, and she really has to stop doing that, she's gonna give herself whiplash. "She's not my girlfriend."
"Wait, what?"
"She's not my girlfriend."
"So, you're banging that super hot chick- don't look at me like that, your woman's fucking hot Lopez, but she's not actually your girlfriend?" Puck stares at her, seemingly more baffled by the fact that her and Brittany aren't official than the fact Brittany's her employee.
Choosing not to enlighten Puck on the fact her and Brittany aren't even sleeping together, she takes a long drink of her beer. "She's not my girlfriend, we're just dating." Santana says eventually, and it all sounds so high school that she almost laughs.
"You mean she's not your girlfriend yet, right?" Puck says, smirking at her when she looks over at him. He seems so earnest, it's almost cute, and okay he did bring up some valid points, but at least he's supportive.
"I'm working on it." Santana says, smirking back at him, and laughing when he cheers, before tapping their bottles together.
Puck then ruins everything by asking how Brittany is in bed, and he protests loudly when she smacks him in the head, but Santana hopes that Quinn is this okay with it when she eventually finds out.