Anonymous asked: 65. One small kiss, pulling away for an instant, then devouring each other


"I still can't believe she's graduating," Santana says for like the fortieth time.

Brittany laughs and rolls over, wrapping her arms and legs around Santana so she can't move, trapping her in a tight embrace. "Go to sleep, babe," she laughs, "We gotta be at the football field for her class photo early tomorrow."

Santana squirms around a little, trying to escape for a moment before she gives up and goes limp, nuzzling into Brittany's neck. "I still remember when she was in diapers," she whines, "And now she's gone and getting graduated and heading off to university."

Brittany rolls her eyes fondly and kisses the top of Santana's head. "You used to be terrified of doing the steps all wrong."

"Hey! I wanted to make sure I didn't, like, fuck it up and give her diaper rash!"

Brittany snorts and presses her face into Santana's hair, dancing her fingers up her wife's back. "You're cute."

"She was so young! She's still so young." Santana kisses Brittany's neck before stiffening suddenly. "Wait," she says slowly, "Does this mean that we're old?"

Brittany's laughter shakes their bodies. "I mean, that's kind of how it works."

Santana gasps dramatically and wiggles so suddenly that she dislodges Brittany from her side. She quickly dances her fingers along Brittany's ribs, easily finding every single one of Brittany's most ticklish spots, places Santana has innately known for most of her life. "You take that back!" she cries.

Brittany gasps and tries to breathe around her laughter, trying—and mostly failing—to swat Santana's hands away. "It's true!" Santana's fingers keep digging into her ribs, a leg thrown over Brittany's hips to try and keep her from squirming off the bed. Everything feels like it did almost a decade ago; Santana laughing and carefree, both of them trying to stay quiet so they don't wake the rest of the Pierces, Brittany's soft pink sheets under them, the rectangle of moonlight slanting across the floor, the glint of pictures through the dark, and even her little sister bursting in unannounced.

"What are you doing?" she asks, her hands on her hips, "You're going to wake mom and dad up and then they'll never get back to sleep."

Santana's hands still on Brittany's ribs but don't slide off her like they would have a decade ago; instead her wife just settles more firmly over her and traces soothing patterns across her sides. "What are you doing up?" Santana sneers with absolutely no real heat, "You're like a baby, isn't it your bedtime?"

Her sister raises an eyebrow with all of Santana's snark and her older sister's deadpan. "I'm graduating tomorrow and I'm eighteen now. You were there at the party, remember? Or are you so old you're starting to lose your memory?"

"You're just a baby adult, not a real old adult like us," Brittany teases, pausing for dramatic effect before adding a smirking, "munchkin."

"Ugh, you guys haven't changed at all," she whines, rolling her eyes in exasperation, but Brittany knows her sister well enough to spot the tiny smile playing on her lips as she turns away and pulls the door shut again.

"I can't believe the disrespect," Santana complains as she turns back to her wife.

Brittany smirks and tugs Santana back down, running her hands comfortingly along Santana's back as she settles against her, tucking her face against Brittany's neck and slinging an arm across her waist. "She might legally be an adult but she's still a teenager," Brittany muses teasingly, "But she should really learn to respect her seniors. Do you think we'll get special seats since we're practically seniors now?"

Santana's quiet for a beat before she gently smacks Brittany in the stomach. "You're the worst," she whines.

"You love me."

Santana doesn't say anything other than to make a noise of displeasure, but considering how cuddled up she is and the kiss she presses to Brittany's neck and the fact that she kind of married her like seven years ago, Brittany already knows she does.

"You love me, you love me, you love me," Brittany singsongs.

Santana rolls her eyes and wiggles in Brittany's embrace until she can crane her neck up and give Brittany a chaste kiss. Brittany's eyes flutter back open as Santana pulls away, and the look of teasing adoration in her eyes makes Brittany quickly tug her back down, their lips meeting hungrily. Santana whimpers and presses down into Brittany, her thigh slipping between her wife's strong ones and her fingers dancing under the hem of Brittany's sleep shirt before hooking in the waistband of her sleep shorts. Brittany's hands slide down past the curve of Santana's spine and pulling her more firmly against her, groaning at the heat burning between them.

"You have to be quiet," Brittany mumbles, sliding under Santana's own sleep shorts under she meets her wife's soft skin.

Santana whimpers again and presses her thigh up against Brittany until she gasps into the kiss. "Just like old times," she smirks.