Summary: After everything that's happened in their Junior year, Santana struggles to determine if she and Brittany are officially dating. Set sometime between 3x03 and 3x04.
Warning: There's some smut I guess? Isn't there always?
A/N: Hello, everyone! It's been a long-ass time since I've posted a fic that wasn't a Savage! update, but I figured I'd write something for Brittana's 6th Anniversary, hosted by LK. So, you know. Enjoy, I guess!
"When I look at Chino, nothing happens."
Santana points the eraser end of her pencil to the script in her hand, using it to follow along with the lines of black, blocky print on the worn, red post-it-flagged page. "What do you expect to happen?" she answers on cue, glancing up from her line to Brittany, who's sitting across the dining room table from her, grinning in response. Santana's heart skips a beat from the soft look in her blue eyes, and she wonders what that smile means- it's at least the fifth one today (but who's counting? That's so Sophomore year.)
"I dunno- something," Brittany recites with effortless confidence, not bothering to look at her own script, and proving to Santana that they've run her lines enough times for Brittany to nearly be off-book, as well- for a role that she's not even playing. Brittany pauses to take a sip of water before she meets Santana's brown eyes again, her gaze relentless, challenging. "What happens when you look at Bernardo?"
Santana draws a deep breath, contemplating Brittany's words and the obvious underlying meaning in them, and how it relates to their situation. She wonders if she should break character, if she should say something, if she should tell Brittany- but then, the uncertainty of their relationship surfaces in her mind, and her mind goes blank. She loses herself in Brittany's eyes for a moment, slightly panicking, searching her brain for words, determined- but after a moment, she gives up and averts her eyes to her script, memorizing her next line. "It's when I don't look that it happens."
If she's disappointed, Brittany doesn't show it as she continues to recite Maria's lines, giving Santana her next cue- and Santana mindlessly responds by reading the words off of the page, her thoughts racing with confusion.
They'd been inseparable since the start of their Senior year, meeting for lunches in the cafeteria and for Cheerios practice after school. The last few weeks in particular had been a whirlwind of campaign poster-making parties for Kurt, then campaign poster-making parties for Brittany, and in-between all of it, preparations and tryouts forWest Side Story- which Santana had landed the role of Anita in- and Glee Club Booty Camp to prepare for Regionals, and then rehearsals for West Side Story, and-
-and throughout all of it, Santana was devoured by the same maddening question:
Are they dating now?
They had never talked about it- she was still gathering her courage, bracing for disappointment. She'd be lying if she said that the events of their Junior year- her tearful confession and subsequent rejection by their lockers- hadn't shaken her confidence. Even though Brittany had reassured her that she loved her before the beginning of summer, the promise hadn't really clarified anything, and now with their carefree summer a distant memory behind them, the ambiguity left her still wondering about the lines of their relationship and where they stood.
"Do you need the line?" Brittany asks, and she snaps her eyes up from her script, where she had been reading the words repeatedly but not digesting them, to find Brittany staring warmly, expectantly, at her.
"Uh- no." Santana's eyebrows furrow and she bites her lip. She taps her pencil nervously on the page, staring into deep, blue, encouraging eyes. She feels the overwhelming urge to just ask- to blurt the words and know the answer to her burning, consuming question- but something holds her back. Her stomach flips at the thought- what if Brittany says no? What if she laughs? What if she tells her that she's going to get back with Arty, or that there's someone else-
Her heart sinks, drowns. She doesn't know if she could handle that after everything they've been through- after all the time they'd spent together, and all the hope she'd built up (secretly) in her heart. If Brittany rejects her-
But then Brittany's leaning forward, pressing her smile to Santana's lips, and Santana feels her stomach flipping again for a different reason as her eyes close briefly in bliss.
"It's okay," Brittany whispers, like a secret, her nose brushing Santana's, and Santana can't form words as Brittany gently slides her finger down the page of Santana's script, guiding her eyes to the line, her clean, sharp scent invading and overwhelming her senses, her warm proximity causing her pulse to race. Brittany repeats softly, "can we not dye it red, at least?"
Blushing, heart pounding, Santana clears her throat and struggles to find her voice. She doesn't even think to look at her script as words populate in her mind. "No, we could not."
Pleased, Brittany grins. "See? You're almost off-book!"
Santana forces a smile, her mind spinning wildly, butterflies taking up residency in her stomach. "Thanks, Brit."
It's two days later and they're at the Lima Bean, casually sipping on their blended frozen coffee drinks after Glee Booty Camp. It wasn't the same without Mercedes, but Santana has learned time and time again to never show weakness, and admitting she misses Mercedes in Glee would be a violation of that lesson, so she accepts it, takes it in her stride.
She watches as Brittany flips through her script with one hand, searching for a scene to quiz her on, sipping periodically from the drink in her other hand, and wonders if this is a date, or if they're just friends hanging out getting coffee after practice, like they've always done. What's the distinction? Where is the line? She doesn't know how to make sense of it. She wishes she could ask- isn't that what boys do? She chews her lip as she deliberates. Maybe she should just-
But then Brittany prompts, "But I am in no hurry."
And Santana replies automatically, feeling the moment slip away, "I am. No shower tonight- I'm taking over the bathroom for a long, hot bath all during supper."
Brittany smiles as she reads, "you will not eat?" before she licks whipped cream off the end of her straw.
Trying not to allow herself to be distracted by the action, Santana takes a sip of her own drink. "After the rumble- with 'Nardo."
Brittany laughs, flipping her script closed. "Nailed it. You don't even need to run the rest of the scene. You're gonna kill it." Her eyes soften, her smile changing from amused to something else as she adds, "I'm so proud of you."
Santana struggles to guard her emotions, to not let her blush heat her face, to not let emotion tighten her throat, to stay casual, cool. "Maybe I'll even upstage Berry."
Brittany smiles wistfully, using her straw to dig through the ice chunks at the bottom of her drink for more liquid. "I hope so... It sucks about Mercedes."
"Yeah," Santana agrees with a nonchalant shrug. "But I heard she joined that other show choir. So I'm sure she's doing just fine."
The sit in silence for a moment, the only noise the sound of Brittany sucking the last few drops of liquid from her cup, and then Brittany's cell phone buzzes. She glances at it, sighs, and then rises to her feet, reaching for her bag next to her chair to tuck her supplies away. "I've gotta get going," she admits regretfully. "That new boy I told you about is arriving at my house in like, two hours."
"That's tonight?" Santana asks, her eyebrows furrowing again. Inwardly, she panics for a second- she thought she had more time to define their relationship, to get clarification, but now... her mind spins with the possibility of a new threat. A new boy, staying at Brittany's house. What if he's hot? Oh, fuck, and what if he has a sexy accent? There's no way she can compete with that, especially given Brittany's promiscuous history, and the fact that they aren't even dating, so there's nothing stopping her from-
Brittany surreptitiously reaches out to squeeze her forearm affectionately, snapping her out of her thoughts, before she sweeps up her backpack and disperses, leaving Santana sitting alone with her half-consumed drink. She doesn't have time to worry about how pathetic she must look sitting by herself at a coffee shop before she spots Mercedes leaving the drink line, carrying a large iced coffee.
"Hey, Santana," Mercedes greets, and Santana nods to the empty chair, encouraging Mercedes to sit in the spot Brittany had just vacated. "What're you doing here?"
She wants to bite back the obvious- that she's getting coffee- but then she realizes that Mercedes is asking what she's doing here alone, and it makes her realize that she's usually always with Brittany. The thought warms her a little- maybe they are dating.
Robbed of her scathing response, she searches for words, feeling suddenly guilty as Mercedes spots the West Side Story script on the table beside her. She immediately reaches to pull it from her sight, but Mercedes smiles softly in response.
"It's all right," she says. "I'm glad you got Anita- no one else could do that part justice."
Relieved, Santana smirks. "You would've slayed as Maria, though. Berry is so obnoxious at rehearsals, it's almost unbearable."
"Facts," Mercedes agrees.
Absently, Santana stirs her drink with her straw. "I mean, we all know Rachel's the favorite- it's about time someone called those hypocrites out on it." She glances up to gauge Mercedes' reaction, then, surprising herself, adds, "Glee Club sucks without you, though."
"I miss all you guys," she admits. "But it's weird to think that I spent two years of my high school life in Rachel's shadow. I'm just glad I get to step out into the spotlight now."
"I know the feeling," Santana mutters, and Mercedes studies her face carefully.
"You spent the last two years being used by Sue to take the club down," she challenges. "What made you go back, if all you do is hide in Rachel's shadow?"
Santana shrugs. "I don't know," she whispers, her heart accelerating for no reason, which makes her anger spike, because she normally has such great control over her emotions. She answers honestly, "I guess I just missed being able to hide."
Mercedes doesn't ask what she means. She just sips her coffee, and Santana wonders if Mercedes gets it- if she understands- but she determines there's no way that's possible, when Santana doesn't understand, herself. She sighs slightly in disappointment.
Had she really been hiding for two years? And is that really why she came back?
She considers her motives; she missed Glee Club for some unknown reason. Rachel, Finn, Blaine- all of them were insufferable. She loved them, but she could stand with a lot less of their constant bullshit, and she proved she wasn't above sabotaging them if it came down to it- so what did she miss? She thinks back on her two years, and it hits her:
She misses secretly watching Brittany from the back row, being able to hide her feelings. But now, she and Brittany are both single, spending nearly every day together, and she has to admit that there's no way she can possibly hide the way her heart leaps whenever Brittany walks into a room, or the way her stomach flips when Brittany smiles at her, anymore, no matter how much she wishes she could. She used to be so good at guarding those reactions, of hiding her true feelings- she thought. That must've been what she'd been inadvertently searching for this year, though it was impossible to actually attain.
The realization that her ability to hide has been forever lost hits her, and all at once, Glee Club loses a lot of its once-glitzy appeal. She frowns. Has she wasted two years of her high school life futilely hiding? She thinks back to when she first joined Glee Club, quickly reliving a short sequence of events, all centered around Brittany, and suddenly, the significance of those events weigh on her. Her mind races to connect the dates, the time frame, where they were in the school year, and she internally confirms that it's been almost two years since-
She swallows a sip of her drink nervously. Two years since she and Brittany had slept together for the first time. Two years since they'd crossed that line, and she still doesn't know where they stand. She knows the only way she's going to figure it out is to have that conversation that she doesn't want to have. She knows she's going to have to stop being a coward and just ask-
But she's so, so scared of the answer.
Friday night, Brittany shows up on her doorstep, early and with script in hand, looking flawless outside of her Cheerios uniform (a rarity these days now that they're both a Big Deal on the Cheerios) and Santana smiles fondly at her as she moves to let her inside.
"You brought your script?" she asks, trying not to feel disappointed. Is that the only reason Brittany thought she invited her over? Her stomach ties itself in a knot at the thought. Maybe-
Brittany smiles, dazzling and warm. "I really appreciate you taking time to help with my Presidential campaign, so, like, it's only right that I return the favor, right?"
Santana can't help but feel her heart melting at the sentiment, despite her slight disappointment. "You're sweet, Brit- but I wanted to do something else."
Brittany sets her bag down casually next to the couch, and the familiar action makes Santana's heart race. "Like what?"
Steeling her nerves, Santana boldly takes her hand- Brittany automatically laces their fingers together- and leads them to sit on the couch. "I thought we could order some Chinese food and just... hang out. Without working on campaign posters and lines," she says nervously. "Just us."
Brittany smiles the kind of shy smile that slowly takes over her whole face, her blue eyes sparkling with happiness. "I'd like that."
"Wait- so he's from Ireland?" Santana asks over her spicy kung pao chicken, trying to sound casual, but inwardly dying to grill Brittany for information on the new foreign boy staying at her house. She makes a face of disgust. "Why would he want to come to Ohio, of all places?"
Brittany shrugs, dangling a lo mein noodle into her mouth. "I guess it was, like, the only spot open? I didn't even know my mom was on the Interpol watchlist. I thought only Lord Tubbington was."
Santana furrows her eyebrows, trying to process, but decides to let it go. She could get lost forever trying to decipher Brittany's clever euphemisms. "How long is he staying with you?"
"The whole school year, I guess? Though I'm not sure what we exchanged to get him."
Santana's stomach clenches in fear at her words- fear that Brittany could build a connection with this new kid- this new threat. A year is a long time- and the new boy gets to see a domestic side of Brittany every day that Santana doesn't. She swallows her panic, reminding herself that it doesn't matter- Brittany is loyal to her, Brittany loves her.... but as a friend? Or something more? She has to have the conversation- to find out if they are dating- that she's been dreading, but the memory of Brittany with Arty still stings, and once again, her heartbeat spikes with fear at the thought of rejection.
If they are dating... But are they? Have they crossed that line?
Silence falls over them as they're absorbed into the TV show they're watching, and Santana stews in her thoughts, struggling to figure out how she's going to ask the question that's eating at her. She chews her chicken, not really tasting it, and watches the TV, not really processing it. It's only once Brittany lets out a loud noise of surprise that she tunes back in.
"Noooo, don't pick her!"
Santana tunes back in to the screen. "They do not have good chemistry," she agrees after a moment.
"I can't believe he gave her a rose. She dresses like Rachel and is far more obnoxious."
"Is that even possible?"
Brittany snorts in amusement as she sips her drink, and Santana feels proud for a moment that she made Brittany laugh before drifting back into her troubled thoughts. What if Brittany and this new boy have good chemistry? She has to find out who is staying at Brittany's house- that will ease her mind.
She leans back against the couch, trying to seem relaxed, cool, confident. It belies the feeling of absolute terror in her stomach. "So when do I get to meet this kid?"
"Huh?" Brittany asks. Then, after a moment, she processes Santana's words. "Oh. He starts school next week."She takes a bite of her noodles.
Santana's stomach drops, and she nods absently in response- she had hoped that Brittany would invite her over, that they would make plans during the weekend. She wonders if Brittany already had plans- maybe with the new boy- and that she waited too long. The confirmation that Brittany wasn't planning on seeing her makes her heart ache with disappointment.
Maybe they aren't dating. Her nerve crumbles.
They're cuddled on the couch a half hour later, their legs tangled together, their empty Chinese food cartons on the table as they watch more trashy TV, and Santana's mind eases. Whoever this Irish kid is, he can't possibly get to experience this side of Brittany- even if she and Brittany aren't dating. Brittany is her best friend- that's something she can't recreate with someone else, especially not so soon. Maybe she has time.
Feeling content and secure for the moment, she turns off her thoughts and tunes back into the TV, laughing at the ridiculous drama on screen- completely unaware that Brittany's staring at her lips. When Brittany doesn't laugh at the show, Santana looks up at her, and finds her staring.
She's just about to ask if Brittany's bored, if she wants to watch something else, when Brittany blurts,
"Do you wanna take a bath?"
Feeling insecure, Santana demands, "Why? Do I smell bad or something?"
"No, you smell amazing."
Flattered and feeling proud of herself- because Brittany thinks she smells amazing- she wonders, "then-?" and swallows as she realizes what Brittany's implying. "Wait- you mean together?"
Brittany nods, showing no remorse or shame in her question, her gaze steady, piercing. Santana takes a deep breath and holds it, feeling her heart pounding in her chest with anticipation-
This is her chance- to cross the line, to admit her feelings, to make Brittany hers- officially- and she feels overwhelmed by the door that's suddenly opened, looming before her with endless possibilities.
She smiles in answer, and takes Brittany's hand.
The bath goes exactly how Santana had hoped- with them furiously making out, rocking together in the hot soapy water, groping each other and moaning their releases in each other's mouths. It had been far too long since they'd done this- shared such intimacy- and she'd be embarrassed at how fast she came against Brittany's slick thigh if Brittany didn't come just as fast.
After the initial frenzy, and her heart slows its pace to a marathon instead of a sprint, she leans back against Brittany in the tub, her cheek on the girl's chest, and smiles as Brittany pets her hair.
She takes a deep breath and leaps.
"Remember when we joined Glee Club two years ago?"
Brittany smiles at the memory. "Of course. Quinn made us practice that routine for hours, even though we had it down perfect the first time. I mean it wasn't that difficult- especially compared to our Cheerios numbers." She rolls her eyes, but then sighs, her hand slowly caressing Santana's bicep. "I know she was just worried about losing Finn, though." She pauses. "That feels like ages ago."
"Yeah." Santana nods, smiling at the memory of Say A Little Prayer, even though she was furious at the time- but only outwardly. Inwardly she was elated at getting to spend time with Brittany. She didn't know that she had a crush on her at the time- she only knew that she wanted to be near her, to spend more time with her, and that practicing for that simple routine granted her that. The memory of her feelings makes her nervousness spike again, and she pushes it down.
"And then after Kurt won our only football game of the season..." she trails off, her heart pounding, her pulse racing, but she can't say, we slept together for the first time and I fell for you. The words won't come out. Why is talking about feelings so difficult for her?
Brittany doesn't verbally answer, but she squeezes Santana tightly for a moment and presses a kiss to the top of her head, and Santana hopes that she understands what she's trying to say: that two years ago, Brittany changed her life. She still remembers the way it felt walking into the locker room the day after for Cheerios practice, her eyes catching Brittany's from across the room. The line had been crossed, and after that, she could never go back again, despite wanting to so many times during their Junior year.
She kisses Brittany's chest- the spot above her heart, since her lips are right there, anyway- and then rises from the tub, trying to shrug off the feeling of failure that begins to creep over her. Talking about this should be easy; she already told Brittany she wanted to be with her, that she loves her- so why is it so difficult to ask if they're dating? Why is it so difficult to admit that two years ago, Brittany unknowingly stole her heart?
They finish drying and make their way to the bedroom, and Santana nervously wonders what's next- but she stops wondering when Brittany grabs pajamas out of her assigned bottom drawer in Santana's dresser, wordlessly answering her unspoken question, and making Santana feel less panicked, knowing she has time. Brittany's not going anywhere, at least.
They climb into bed together naturally, their movements familiar but careful as their legs intertwine automatically. Santana feels the tension as she reaches for the remote, but tries to classify the category of it- is it sexual? Awkward? Both? They'd done this a million times in the past, so why does it feel different tonight?
As they settle back against the pillows together, her head once again on Brittany's shoulder with her arm around her, cradling her close, she absently presses a kiss to the slightly freckled skin she finds there and considers her position. Is this what friends do? Take baths together and cuddle up in bed together? She can't think of any other friends she's ever done that with- but at the same time, she knows that sex isn't dating. They fucked all last year, all summer, even last week, but it didn't mean anything more than what it was- which is what? She presses another, firmer kiss to Brittany's skin, sighing against it.
When Brittany's breath hitches from the contact, Santana feels her pulse spike in response.
She gazes up into Brittany's dark blue eyes, wondering what she must be thinking, but forgetting just as quickly when Brittany leans down to kiss her, fierce, biting her lower lip and charging her desire at a rapid pace. Fingers wind in her hair, tugging, and she knows Brittany's driving her crazy on purpose- she's the only one who knows how.
Santana rolls over on top of Brittany fully, straddling her hips and leaning down on her elbow to continue kissing her relentlessly. Brittany's hands- nails- scratch up her back and Santana's hips buck down involuntarily, finding friction against Brittany's pubic bone, moaning at the pressure. They shift, shedding clothes as they move (Santana wonders why they bothered to put them on at all, but maybe there's some sort of line she doesn't know about that they haven't crossed yet-) and then they're naked, lying on their sides on the bed, breathing hard.
Brittany gazes into her eyes and reaches up to stroke her cheek softly, trailing her touch down Santana's neck and shoulder and arm and causing her to tremble, feeling too much and not enough.
"I love you," Brittany whispers- a sentiment she'd said many times in the past- as she presses her forehead to Santana's, and Santana swallows, recalling Brittany's words from the end of their Junior year, and trying to discern their meaning; does she mean as a friend, or have they crossed another line?
Does it matter? Brittany loves her.
"I love you, too," she whispers, her voice sounding a lot less composed than Brittany's, and when Brittany kisses her, Santana feels too many things to sort out as she kisses back. Brittany moves forward, taking control, and Santana lets her, relishing in the lavish attention and gentle loving touches as Brittany's fingers glide along every inch of her skin.
She wants to cry; she doesn't know if they're officially dating, but this- this feels like more. She's overwhelmed with how much love she feels for Brittany, and when Brittany's inside her moments later, she allows herself to imagine that they are, that Brittany's hers, officially, and she can't help the cry of ecstasy that leaves her throat in response.
Brittany's touch is reassuring, but forceful; gentle, but possessive. She builds her up at a steady pace, staring into her eyes as she fucks the life out of her. Santana's sure she's never been loved so thoroughly- and she can't remember the last time she's been made love to-
Not since that first time, two years ago... before Brittany was told that it was better without eye contact, before she discovered that it was better if it doesn't involve feelings, and Santana wishes, in that moment- as Brittany brings her to the edge- that she hadn't pushed it away for so long.
She comes with a sob of emotion, so powerful it wracks her entire body, and she's clinging to Brittany for dear life as the waves of pleasure crash mercilessly through her. Brittany holds her tightly, kissing her face, kissing the small tear that had slipped from the corner of her left eye, and Santana releases a watery laugh before kissing her back. Brittany's hips rock down when their tongues meet, reminding Santana that she has work to do.
She slides her left hand down, her fingers pausing momentarily at Brittany's stomach to trace a heart before continuing their journey. Brittany smiles through her overpowering arousal at the affectionate action, and kisses her cheek in response. When Santana's hand finally finds Brittany wetter than she's ever felt before, her thighs trembling, she knows she was wrong before- it's better with feelings.
Her fingers find all the familiar places that make Brittany moan, and Brittany ruts into her thrusts, actively participating. As she feels her getting close, evidenced by the increased tightness around her fingers, she whispers I love you again as she gazes into blue eyes, because she knows now- it's better with eye contact.
Brittany gasps the sentiment back before she's falling apart spectacularly, her hips rolling hard into Santana's slowing movements, and they're kissing again, holding each other tightly for long moments before Brittany settles down against her.
She gazes at Brittany, who's curled up in her arms, naked, her breathing deep and even and her expression peaceful- and feels the exact opposite. Her thoughts race, her pulse races, and she can't believe they are here- it's more than she could've hoped for.
But-
Something is different. She doesn't know what line they've crossed, only they they've crossed it- and that has to mean something.
This must be dating-
But Santana remembers that first time, two years ago, and how it was an echo of her feelings now, and her words die in her throat.
The next morning, Brittany kisses her goodbye for a long time. She tells her that she's meeting up with Mike over the weekend to work on choreography for the musical, and promises she'll miss her, and Santana feels a little relieved.
On Sunday night, Santana has finally built up her courage- the next morning is when she'll meet the new boy, and she doesn't like it, but she can't just sit around wondering anymore. She has to take action, or risk losing Brittany again, and she's not prepared to do that, not after everything. She makes up her mind- she's going to find out, once and for all, if they're dating- so she sends the text.
Breadstix, Tuesday night? My treat. :)
And chews her lip anxiously, waiting, waiting-
When her phone chimes, she releases the breath she'd been holding.
Love to. ;*
She smiles.
I had a lot of feelings about canon, okay? ;-;
Anyways. Review if you feel like it, but that's okay if you don't.
And for those of you wondering~ the next chapter of Savage! is on its way... probably by the beginning of next month, so stay tuned for that!