Title: Inside Out
Rating: NC-17
Word Count: 7.5k
Summary: Santana's back from Indiana for Senior year. She lived her five years ago, but there's something different about the place.
Warning: G!P
Notes: The sexy times are necessary. Don't hate. Plus, Demi and Naya? That's a yes in my head, even if they aren't OTP.
/
Saturday morning, Santana wakes up at 8am.
She usually gets up earlier on the weekends, but she left a note for her dad telling her not to wake her and sign her in as sick at work. There was no way in hell she was going to sit in a hot office for eight hours, not with the banging headache or all the emotions she's feeling this morning. Diego agrees, kissing her on the head and tells her there's leftover pizza in the fridge if she's hungry.
She skulks around the house for a few hours, before there's a knock at the door.
Dressed in basketball shorts and a large tee, she heads to the door and throws it open, shocked to find Brittany there, looking sad and nervous, evident by the way she's playing with the zip on her jacket.
A million things run through Santana's mind, but it only takes her body two seconds to react and she's tugging the girl inside, wrapping her arms around her to comfort her for the events of last night. Brittany sobs into her shoulder, her hands grappling at her like she never wants to let go and Santana feels the heat prickle at her eyelids as she holds in her own tears.
"I'm sorry Dani did that to you," she whispers into blonde hair. "I tore her a new asshole, I promise."
Brittany chuckles through her tears and pulls back. "I never meant it to get to this," she says and Santana can feel her pain and it sucks. The last thing Brittany is, is spiteful or malicious, and she knows if it wasn't for the alcohol, the whole bathroom situation wouldn't have happened, and it was just a bad judgement call on both of their behalf. "I shouldn't have have lied with Dani walked in–"
"No," Santana interjects. "I'm glad you did."
Blue eyes snap to hers. "No, Santana, you don't under–"
"I do," Santana lowers her head and feels the words protest as they bubble up her throat. "You lied because you didn't weren't sure what happened."
Brittany stops, blinks once and pulls her brows together. "San–"
"I feel this, Britt," Santana shakes her head and gestures between them. "I've felt it ever since I nearly ran you over," she admits and looks up. Everything inside of her is screaming not to call this what it is, but she can't have the blonde in her arms sobbing because of something that's so unsure. "But we can't keep going back and forth and having shady meet ups in bathrooms and at Lima Point."
It's true, even if she doesn't necessarily want it to be, but all she's done since Puck dropped her off last night was think about the party. All she could think about is Brittany and how she looked when Dani called her out, and it's not something she wants for her. She doesn't want this uncertainty, this lingering question over their heads because it's just draining. It complicates everything, and even though there's nothing going on, if word spreads, the person that comes out of this badly is Brittany.
And she doesn't want to give Dani up. A part of her knows that there is something between them or they wouldn't have spent so much time together.
The right thing to do is remove the hesitation and maybe they can work on the friend side between them. That's the best thing to do.
"Dani and I talked it out," Brittany breaks her from her thoughts. "I told her it was a huge misunderstanding and I lied because I panicked." Her eyes are blue and lost and it wraps uncomfortably around Santana's chest, squeezing. "Then I told her I'd need to apologise to you and that she should come over here in an hour to sort it out with you after."
Santana's eyes flit to the clock on the wall beside the front door. "An hour?" She says, noting the state the physical state of her and the fact she's not prepared for a huge emotional chat. She wasn't expecting Brittany, let alone Dani. "Why'd you do that?"
Blue eyes are staring at her, shouting something that Santana just can't hear, but she knows she needs to stick to her guns on this. She needs to stop this weird barely-there thing between her and Brittany because it's only hurting everyone and fucking everything up.
"Because she's my friend, and it's the right thing to do."
It's like the girl is in Santana's head, and she fears that she's spoken her thoughts out loud, but then Brittany's giving her that God damn sad smile that she's become so accustomed to and offering out her pinky. "Pinky promise we'll be friends still?"
Friends.
The word doesn't seem right, and Santana cocks her head to the side, studying the girl for a few seconds. There's some sort of finality in the moment, and she wonders in another world if they could've made it work, but Brittany's looking at her with a less sad-smile now and she guesses it is the right thing to do.
"Pink promise, Britt," she loops her pinky through the other girls.
A long moment later, of hopeless stares and tinging pinkies, Brittany exhales dramatically and looks Santana up and down. "I'll leave you to get ready," she says. "Dani will be here soon."
In the blink of an eye, she's disappearing down the drive and climbing back into her car.
The door slams and Santana leans against it.
If it's the right thing to do, why doesn't it feel like it?
/
True to her word, Dani's knocking at the door a little over an hour later.
There were tears, and snot covered tissues by the end of their deep, meaningful talk and somehow they came to the conclusion that they'd be exclusive at the end. It wasn't right what Dani did to Brittany, but Dani said she was jealous and had a little too much to drink and that she and Brittany had sorted it out. She explained she liked Santana so much it scared it, and the rest of the story matched Brittany's, and so she'd accepted it and they'd kissed on the sofa to make up.
Well, for a good ten minutes or so, before the heat flared up over Santana's body and she knew her dad wouldn't be home for hours. Dani had given her the I want you look and really, it probably took another three minutes or so before they were up in Santana's bedroom, clothes strewn across the place and Santana was marvelling at the cheerleader as she was climbing up the bed and riding her, slick heat encompassing her cock.
Her thumb rotates on Dani's clit after a minute or two, making her buckle over and she takes the lead, moving her hand away and grabbing the back of the girls thighs, lifting her above her body as she begins to pound away. The arousal ten-folds, the squeaks coming from the other girl so loud in her ear that she thinks she'll hear them for days and she can feel the heat tingling at the bottom of her back already.
It's been a while, okay?
But it doesn't affect the tempo, instead it fuels it and she wipes away the sweat from her forehead and jack-hammers into the girl, watching her cock burying itself inside the girl. There's a variety of bodily juices everywhere, Dani's hands are gripping at the comforter by Santana's legs and she's kicking her legs forward, completely opening herself up for Santana to drill her from beneath.
It's the hottest fucking thing Santana's ever seen, and it only takes a few pumps before she's releasing herself, sparks of pleasure surging through her body as she buries herself hilt deep inside Dani, feeling the girl come undone as she clenches tightly around Santana's member, squeezing every last drop of her out.
They both fall to the bed, panting heavily and a light layer of sweat covering both their bodies and the room is so hot around them. Santana's heart is beating double time and she giggles lightly as the other girl moans, quaking still as she tucks her head into the crook of Santana's neck, nuzzling gently. The warmth seeps into her skin, wrapping around her and she feels this numbing sensation prickling at her feet.
"Fuck. That was good."
She meant to say it inside her head, but Dani's hand comes up to her cheek and pulls gently, their eyes locking. "You are so good at that," she pants, licking her swollen lips.
They kiss, long and hard, before Santana needs to breathe and knows if she continues kissing her like that, she's going to be reloading and needing to fire her gun within a couple of minutes. So, she pulls the comforter up the bed to cover them both and presses a kiss to her head, attempting to ignore the way her stomach grumbles but she doesn't get away with it because it sounds like a fucking roar and then Dani's laughing at her and rubbing her hand over her stomach.
"Let's feed you, huh?" The cheerleader suggests. "Pancakes?"
Santana just grins. Okay, she could get used to this.
/
It's a little later and Dani announces she needs to go home.
Apparently, her mom goes out of town for business every now and then and leaves her to look after her little sister, and tonight just happens to be one of those nights. It sucks, mostly because Dani has to get dressed in front of her and that pulls low in her stomach, to the point where she doesn't actually let her get changed the first two times and instead has her screaming into a pillow as she wraps her lips around her clit, but eventually she gets a call and Santana agrees to drop her off.
According to Dani, Brittany had dropped her off and Santana pauses at the news, her hands stilling from where she was tying up her hair and she tries not to flinch because she said it herself, them dropping the weird vibe between them was the right thing to do. Especially after today. Especially after seeing Dani come undone above her, and below her, and beside her in a spooning position they'll be doing a lot in weeks to come.
They part with a kiss at the front door, and Diego eying Santana eying her knowingly on her way back in because she looks a little too happy, but she rolls her eyes and tells him she's got assignments to complete.
When she gets to her bedroom, she gives it a quick tidy, throws away the bedsheets in the wash bin and replaces them because they kind of (read: definitely) need it and then she's reaching for her phone from the side table.
Thank you for sorting out everything with Dani. I really appreciate it x
The text message is sent before she really thinks about it, throwing herself back on her newly made bed to stare at the ceiling. She drums her fingertips against her stomach and wonders what the next couple of weeks are going to bring. It's only been a rollercoaster so far, so she can't imagine the future will be the same. The phone buzzes on top of her and she reaches for it, flicking open the lock screen.
You're welcome. You two deserve to be happy x
It makes her hesitate. Yeah, sure, she does deserve to be happy, and Dani makes her, but it just doesn't feel like Brittany means it. The whole situation is super fucking strange, but after their talk earlier, and after making up with Dani, this is just the way it's supposed to be.
So do you, Britt. Made up with Puckerman yet? X
Santana hasn't spoken to anyone but Dani about the whole Puck/Carmel High scenario that happened last night – in all honesty, it feels like a fucked-up dream – but she's put a lot of thought into it and there was something in the guys face that completely caught her off guard. She doesn't want to believe him, and she knows that she should probably tell Quinn about the whole thing, but she doesn't know how to approach it.
Her thoughts are broken by the notification that pops up on her screen.
No, we're over, for sure. Better off as friends x
It stings. It's not the first time Santana's heard that and maybe the blonde just wants to be alone if she's friend-zoning every potential or boyfriend. After all, her and Puck were together for a year and so Santana needs to continue on the path she's chosen and be there for her as a friend.
Sorry to hear that. You'll never guess what happened last night… I ran into Puck and then we got kidnapped! x
She barely gets to put her phone down before her cell is buzzing, and there's a video chat request from the blonde. Santana rolls her eyes and laughs but answers, grinning at the blonde before her when she answers. She's beautiful, she really is, her hair tied into a messy bun and she's wearing a baggy, faded sweatshirt as she curls into an armchair. The item of clothing donning her upper body reads Pierce on the breast pocket and brown eyes narrow. Maybe it's her dads.
"Tell me everything."
The tale of last nights after-party events takes over, and Santana breathes a little easier after a few minutes, admiring the way the other girl holds a finger up and pauses the story, running to grab some actual popcorn before she plops back down on her bread, ready for the story.
Maybe they can be friends, after all.
/
They've been on the call for an hour and a half, Santana reliving the events of last night.
Brittany's shocked, and she looks super confused when she hears that Puck looked genuinely guilty when he was talking, and how he spoke so softly when he said he didn't want to be this anymore. Considering his reputation, if it were anyone else, they probably wouldn't believe Santana, but the blonde is nodding and really listening and it makes Santana think maybe it wasn't the alcohol making the jock like that.
"And then we stole the van and hightailed out of there," she finishes, exhaling loudly.
It's a lot to take in, and Brittany's looking around the room like she's processing the whole story, blowing her cheeks out. She finally settles and looks back to the camera. "You think Quinn's doing all that?"
"I don't know," Santana shrugs and adjusts her grip on the phone, now laying flat on her bed, chest down, the phone in front of her. "But he was like… different, but I don't know. He was always such an asshole and after what you said–"
"He wasn't always like that," the blonde defends, and Santana meets her stare through the phone, narrowing her eyes as if to ask for an elaboration. "He does have another side, I wouldn't have been with the guy for a year if not," she continues and begins to chew her bottom lip. "But his dad was always riding him to join the Air Force when he wanted to play football and it just bought out this side in him."
Everyone has their own story, and Santana feels the pang of guilt when she realises she never tried to understand Puck. Not that he gave her much opportunity, nor much will to do so following the string of having been shoved over in the parking lot, so it's not a heavy guilt, but she still thinks she could've looked behind the asshole curtain. Like that Karofsky kid who's totally bullying everyone because he's a raging homo; sometimes people just put up a guard.
Santana's familiar with the feeling. Just not to the extent of humiliating or hurting other people.
"Guess Quinn's doing something to him besides tutoring," Santana means it as a joke, but the blonde stills and she fears she's gone too far. "I don't know anything like, for sure," she quickly adds, fearing that Brittany might not want to know her ex has moved on because it's so recent. No-one likes to hear that, regardless of why the relationship failed. "But she's been different too, and it might be that."
"Maybe," Brittany sighs and rubs at her eyes when she yawns. "Maybe you should speak to Q," she stretches with one arm, revealing a thin line of her midriff and Santana finds herself looking anywhere but the screen repeating the word friends internally. "I gotta go to bed, got Cheerio practise first thing."
Brown eyes flit to the clock on the wall. "Shit, it's late," she confirms. "I'll see you tomorrow?"
"Definitely," the blonde smiles. "Night, San."
Fighting the urge to say anything more, she settles with a "Goodnight, Britt," and presses the red button to end the call.
/
"Are the rumours true that you and Brittany Pierce were caught mid-coitus in the bathroom at Bree Woodley's party last Friday night?"
Jacob Ben Israel. Quite possibly the most irritating Jew around, and that's competing with Rachel fucking Berry.
Santana slams her locker shut, rolling her eyes at the kid and growls as she answers him. "No, they're not true, Jewfro," she spits and looks directly into the camera. "I'm dating Dani and Brittany and I are just good friends," she doesn't miss a beat. Her heart does, though. "It was a misunderstanding. Is that all?"
The spectacled students still got his mouth open, unsure if it's due to some sort of incurable disease – she hopes – or because he's drooling at the imagery of her and the blonde going it at it on the sink counter. She suspects it's the latter, and dramatically sucks in her lips, waiting for what she as she cocks her head at him, waiting for what she knows is another stupid fucking question with anger burning in her stare.
"So, what about the rumours of you buying condoms and whipped cream with Dani down at 7/11? Now that you've confirmed you're dating her, could you confirm that?"
A large microphone is shoved in her face and Santana, shocked, pauses for a moment.
Fuck.
That was kind of a last-minute idea that her and Dani had conjured up earlier in the week during one of their truck make-out sessions and it had resulted in a quick stop at the local store and a very satisfying release into her girlfriend's mouth after the girl had used half a can of whipped cream on her junk. It was a bitch to clean up, especially as they didn't even make it out of her truck due to excitement – although the majority of the product was sucked clean by Dani's mouth on her dick – but it wasn't really the worst thing in the world.
Although she didn't really want anyone else to know about their sex life, and she's heard that the Jewish Beetlejuice has his own YouTube channel that all his stupid school videos go on so the last thing she wants to do is confirm or even hesitate – which exactly what she's doing.
Double fuck.
And it seems the silence is answer enough, because Jacob is spinning to face the camera once more, shooting a wink that makes Santana gag and signing off. "You heard it right here, JBI news."
"If you post that anywhere Israel," she threatens and gets closer to the boy, glaring down at him. "I will personally make sure you have to pee through a catheter for the rest of your life."
The threat barely even registers – the football team do more than Santana could even promise – and Jacob walks away, whispering with his camera man who's sniggering like a fucking child.
That video is totally going to get out.
/
Santana's heads to Spanish class and takes her usual seat.
This period always sucks, probably when it shouldn't as Santana speaks fluent Spanish, however none of her friends do and so this lesson always drags because she's surrounded with people she doesn't even acknowledge outside this room. It's the same for them, too, so it's not like she's a total bitch or anything, but half of the class are the prep kids that think they're better than everyone else in their Hollister clothing and almost quarterly holidays to somewhere exotic and have to know Spanish because they've got Latina housemaids, and the other half are just bilingual or nerds.
So, when Mr Martinez is announcing there's a new student coming from the class below, Santana gets excited.
Because none other than Brittany, breezes through the door, like a breath of fresh air. Maybe this class won't be so bad from now.
The girl grins and rocks on to the balls of her feet, a sign Santana's come to know as Brittany being nervous. She smiles herself, sitting up promptly in her seat and meeting the other girls eyes as she realises they're now in another class together. This time, seated together as Santana's the only one with a space beside her. This is a first.
"If you take a seat next to Miss Lopez," Mr Martinez ushers the blonde to the back row. "She will catch you up to speed with today's assignment."
Santana can barely contain herself when Brittany approaches. She pulls out the chair without second thought. "Hey," she beams.
Brittany drops her backpack on the table and removes her textbooks. "Hey," she whispers and ducks her head. "Ms Alderman said I needed a more challenging class."
"Cool," the brunette nods and twiddles her pencil in her hand. "Today's assignment is in pairs."
Blue eyes flash to her. "Cool," she mirrors.
Mr Martinez comes towards them, his hands leaning down on the desk. "Ladies," he drawls, his voice thick with a Spanish accent. "You'll have to do some homework, which is why I put you together," he explains, and Santana narrows her eyes. How does he know they're friends? "People talk," he answers the unasked question. "So, if you don't mind putting a few hours behind this after school, that would be appreciated to get Brittany up to where the rest of the class is."
It doesn't really answer the question, but she supposes the teachers take note of everything in the hallways. It is their job after all.
"No problem," Santana replies, a little too excited to have a reason to spend time with the girl.
They probably could without Dani, but recently they've been hanging out as a three. Somehow the events of the party managed to bring Dani and Brittany closer than ever, and Santana's just blissfully ignorant to the minor tension it brings. Life's just easier that way.
"I'll come over tonight?" Brittany hushes into her ear when the teachers gone, springing Santana from her thoughts.
She inadvertently snaps the pencil she's holding due to the fright and gasps, earning a few glances from the students around her. "Shit," she mutters beneath her breath and quickly grabs the two halves as she meets blue eyes. "You scared me."
Brittany holds her stare. "I don't bite," she retorts, and for a second Santana thinks she sees a flash of intense… a flash of something familiar but then in it's gone, but then the blonde is looking back to her textbooks and flipping open one of them. "So, where are we?"
A lump forms in Santana's throat, but she blinks and shakes it off and gets back to the assignment.
She's just reading into things too much.
/
Dani's waiting by her truck after school.
A curious expression passes over her face as Santana approaches with Brittany, and she knows she could've sent the girl a text, but she didn't want Dani to overthink anything without her there to see it in her face and correct it, plus telling her now is equally as good. Still, she moves a little too quickly towards her girlfriend, kisses the girl a little longer than usual and grabs her hand to stand with her as they turn to face Brittany.
Subtle.
"Hey, Dani," the blonde greets and looks between the two, like Santana needs to interject and explain.
Which, shit, she does. She snaps her head around and meets her girlfriends' eyes. "We've got a Spanish assignment to complete," she starts and bites her bottom lip. "Hope that's okay?"
Dani nods her head, her face changing into a smile that doesn't quite reach her eyes. "Of course, babe," she squeezes her hand gently. "Could you drop me off home, though? My mom's going away again tonight, so I was going to rearrange our evening anyway."
Santana doesn't know if the girl is lying, but there doesn't seem to be any faulter in the fluidity of her words so she's either a really good liar, or she's totally okay with this. Not that she shouldn't be, it's innocent. They've got a strange past but it's not like it actually went anywhere; they didn't even kiss, so Dani really doesn't have anything to worry about. Especially considering she doesn't know the real depth of their past thing. Lima Point is still a secret.
"No problem," she looks to Brittany. "Meet you at mine at 5?"
The blonde nods, jerking her thumb over to her own car. "Sure, I drove today anyway, and I'll need to get home later."
Dani grins, the twinkle back in her eyes and Santana thinks this is good, this is easy. It's a good balance. It would be weird if she refused her girlfriend a ride home, and weirder if they left Brittany's car here because she wouldn't be dropping her off later because there's no need. She can just meet her back at hers. They're only hanging out for school purposes anyway, otherwise they'd be with the other cheerleader, too, and so it's good.
(She's thought the word good to many times for it to be accurate.)
"Bye guys," Brittany breathes, quickly spinning away, ponytail flicking in the wind as she heads to her SUV.
Those blue eyes never seem to faulter.
/
Santana helps her girlfriend into her truck and climbs in herself, flicking on the ignition and driving out the parking lot. The trees blur past the window and she's on automatic pilot as she drives Dani home.
"You okay, babe?"
A hand covers the back of hers on the gears and she turns her head to smile. "Yeah, are you?"
Dani's head tilts and she chews the inside of her cheek. She's concerned. "Yeah, you're just quiet," she explains and her thumb strokes over the back of Santana's hand. "I wasn't lying about looking after Terri, though," she continues and Santana's eyes flitter back and forth with confusion. "In case you thought I didn't want to crash your party."
"It's not a party, babe," Santana replies and leaves one hand on the wheel to grab back at her girlfriend's hand. "And I'm gonna want to FaceTime you later," she purrs, her head dipping and eyes fluttering up through her lashes. "I might be lonely."
The cheerleader groans, pinching her thighs together. "San," she whines and God, when this girl gets turned on, Santana can't resist her. She's just so fucking sexy. "Don't say that when I'm not coming over."
Santana spots a turn off down a dirt track off to the left and smirks at her girlfriend, jutting her chin over in the direction off it. "Wanna make a pit stop?"
Arousal surges through her, especially when the lightbulb above Dani's head clicks and she's dropping her hand to palm the bulge forming in Santana's jeans. She jolts at the touch, both hands now shooting to the steering wheel to steady the car because fuck, she'll veer off in the wrong direction if the girl does that again.
Her foot presses harder on the gas, and she damn near skids into the dirt track, quickly heading down and away from the main streets until they come to a small clearing with a couple trees around. She pulls in between two trees, swiftly flicking off the engine and gasps as Dani shrugs herself out her Cheerios spanks, kicking them into the passenger footwell and climbs across the centre console, making quick work of Santana's jeans and boxers, pushing them down to her knees.
Then Santana's hands are on the cheerleaders' hips, and she's watching in awe as the girl grabs a condom from the inside of her backpack and expertly tears it open, rolling it down Santana's throbbing cock as it springs free against her tee. Then she's shifting, barely even taking a breath before guiding her to her entrance and sinking down on to her, skin flush against each other and Santana damn nearly comes at the motion.
Her teeth dig into her bottom lip, her head falling back as pleasure stirs in her groin and she begins rotating her own hips, pushing up into every down motion Dani makes. There are hands grabbing at the roof, fingers scratching at the fabric covering it and brown eyes trail up the girl's body, one of her own hands pushing up the front of the Cheerios top donning her torso to palm over the girls bra.
It's a thing of beauty, and it helps that Dani is incredibly good in bed because a minute later, Santana can feel the girl clenching around her, her thrusts tiring and she knows she's close, so she takes control, pushing the palm of her hand low on her belly, causing additional pressure. The intense fire that burns low at the base of spine gets too much, and she works double time, releasing herself after a few firm tilts of her hips and moans, feeling Dani squeeze around her cock, elongating her orgasm.
Their foreheads fall together, sliding due to the thin layer of sweat coating their skin and they breathe into one another, chuckling lightly.
"Fuck," Santana sighs, feeling the last few sparks shoot through her body.
"Guess that makes up for tonight," Dani winks, her hands falling to Santana's shoulder to use as leverage as she rises to her knees, their bodies disconnecting.
Santana winces as the cold air hits her skin and she removes the condom, throwing it into an old fast food paper bag on the floor of her truck. She really needs to clean up in here.
She tucks herself back in, helping her girlfriend back into the passenger seat and they make themselves presentable before the truck turns back on and heads back into town. It's only a few seconds later, when Dani's adjusting her ponytail in the flip-down mirror that Santana feels the need to confirm everything's okay with tonight. Sure, after what just happened, she guesses it is, but there's this nag at the back of her brain that's telling her different.
"It's okay that I'm doing this assignment with Britt tonight right?"
Dani plumps her lips after applying a thin layer and turns to her. "Of course, babe," she pushes the mirror back up, settling back in the seat. "Why wouldn't I be?"
Santana shrugs. "Just checking," she confirms, and they arrive at Dani's house. The cheerleader kisses Santana softly, slowly, and wipes her bottom lip with her thumb as she pulls away. "I'll call you later," Santana says, and Dani climbs out the truck. "Say hey to your mom."
The cheerleader slings her backpack over her shoulder and kicks the door shut, allowing a quick look under her Cheerio skirt when her leg lifts. "Bye, babe."
She disappears into the house, and Santana notes the time: 415. They must have been at the dirt track for longer than she thought, and she quickly speeds home to shower, pushing down the excitement rising in her chest at knowing the blonde will be over soon.
/
Spanish textbooks are everywhere on the bed, but Santana and Brittany are paying no mind because for the last hour, they've been lying on Santana's bedroom floor talking. It's been easy, comfortable. Much like their visits to Lima Point, or rather one visit and one coincidental meet.
There's crisps and snacks on the floor, empty wrappers of Twinkies filling the small trash can in the corner, and Santana's on her back, trying to blow a mini marshmallow up in the air because Brittany did it three times in a row and she hasn't even managed once. They've talked about everything, from the night with Puck and the Carmel High kids to Santana's incident with Jacob Ben Israel at school earlier, but when the blonde asked her if she could make a mini marshmallow levitate, Santana told her it was an impossible and she was proved very wrong.
"How the fuck are you doing this, you wizard," Santana comments, getting more and more frustrated with the attempt because Brittany's making it so easy.
The blonde chuckles next to her. They're lying side by side, but opposite directions so Santana's legs are the blondes head and vice versa and Brittany props herself up on her elbows to look down at her. She's wearing the same grey sweatshirt with Pierce on the breast that she did when Santana called her the other night, and she takes her attention off the marshmallow between her lips as she meets blue eyes.
"Is that your dad's?" Santana asks, eyes flitting to the piece of clothing.
Brittany's smile falls and she drops her gaze. "Yeah," she answers and there's a sadness in her voice that wasn't there before. It squeezes at Santana's chest. "I wear it when I miss him," the blonde explains. "He's away a lot."
Mr Pierce is a senator. Santana's not entirely sure what that entails exactly, just that he's away majority of the time because he's responsible for the governmental decisions of the state of Ohio. It's a pretty big job, and Santana feels the girl's pain, her jaw clenching against the thought of the blonde being sad. Her mom isn't around – yeah, because she left Diego when Santana was little – but she knows what it's like not to have parents around and she doesn't want Brittany to be sad.
Instead of continuing on the subject, she picks up a marshmallow and throws it at the girls head, pinging off the blondes forehead.
Brittany gasps, a grin tugging at her lips and narrows her eyes. "You don't want to start a food fight with me, Lopez," she utters, and Santana feels a childish excitement pulse through her body.
And she's up for the challenge. "Bring it, Pierce."
She grabs a handful of mini marshmallows and throws them at the other girl, squealing when Brittany lunges for her before they can hit her and tackles her backwards. Her lungs hurt from laughing – the collision with the carpet also contributed – and she pushes at the girl above her, flipping her over until Brittany's on her back.
There's no way she's losing this.
Her hands reach for the almost-empty packet of treats and manages to grasp a couple, overpowering the girl beneath her until she can cram them inside her mouth. The blonde hits out at the inside of Santana's arms, causing her to lose her balance and fall on top of her. They're both laughing, Brittany spitting the mini marshmallows out her mouth because there's like, fourteen in there, and Santana drags herself to her forearms.
And the laughter stops.
The smiles slowly fade from both their faces, the proximity now making both of them gulp visibly and they're searching each other's eyes for any type of movement.
But no.
Shit.
Santana's eyes trace over the other girls face, down the bridge of her nose to her lips. She can't help it. Every time she's been in this distance of the girl, she feels locked – like something is anchoring in her position because she feels powerless. She knows that she should be pulling back. She knows that she should be laughing loudly to break the tension and roll of the girl, playing off the mini food fight they've just had.
But she can't.
There must be some cosmic reason why this keeps happening. There must be a larger power at work here because Santana has never felt this routed to someone, this connected.
Brittany seems to feel it too, because her body is shifting below her, and she's propping herself up on her elbows, Santana falling back to her knees but not distancing them further. If anything, the blonde actually makes the gap between them smaller, her hair falling in front of her face as their breath collides. Those impossibly blue eyes are shining into Santana, beaming into her very soul and it's so fucking hard to try and keep things platonic with the girl when she feels this connection.
It feels like they know each other from another life. It feels like they've lived their years before and been together in some sort of way. It feels like she doesn't have to explain anything to Brittany, like she already knows her inside out.
And it's terrifying.
Although, the fear that seizes her breathing, snaps like a rubber band being stretched too far as the bedroom door swings over.
Santana doesn't even get to trade guilty stares with Brittany, because the blonde has shot out from beneath her and clambered on to the bed, just as Diego steps into the room and eyes them suspiciously.
"I didn't mean to…" His eyes flit from girl to girl. "Interrupt."
Clearing her throat, Santana sits back on her knees, eying the space before her that was just occupied by the blonde and shakes off her confusion. "You didn't," she replies, looking at her father. His face is stern, something she's not privy to and she looks to the blonde before looking back again. "What's wrong?"
Diego clenches his jaw and smiles softly at Brittany. "I'm sorry, sweetie," he says and Santana frowns. "I need to talk to my daughter."
As if Brittany didn't need an excuse to get the fuck out of here, she shoots Santana that same fucking damn sad smile she always does and tells Diego I should go anyway, it's getting late and Santana mentally flips off the big man in the sky. Perfect timing, asshole. The girl gathers her stuff, leaving a few papers scattered because she's not concentrating on anything other than escaping, and Santana can only watch her, completely ignoring the glare her dad's giving her.
The door shuts as she walks away from Santana for what feels like the thousandth time since they met, and Diego casually strolls to the bed and takes a sit, patting beside him to call his daughter to him. She obliges, slowly sliding up from the floor and cocks her brow at him. It's not like they don't talk regularly – they're actually kind of best friends – but Santana's looking at her dad and she can see something… parental glistening in his eyes.
"I think we need to talk about what you were caught buying, mija," he starts, his eyes searching nervously.
And it hits Santana, square in the face. Like one of those oversized hand pranks in Jackass. Nearly floors her.
That fucking Jew and his stupid YouTube channel.
Her dad saw the fucking video about her buying condoms and fucking whipped cream. The video where she was so shocked by the question, that her face answered for her and blood rushes to her cheeks, her eyes widening and she drops her chin to her chest, suddenly finding the floor the most interesting place in her room.
(If the blonde that had been there a minute ago was still there, it would be.)
"Pops," she breathes and oh my God this is so fucking humiliating. Her and her dad are close, but they never had the birds and the bees chat. It was something she educated herself in, learning from the poor decisions her friends make and she actually did attend her sex ed classes at school, so that did the majority.
"I know we haven't had that talk," Diego continues, and even he's looking entirely uncomfortable, his palms gliding down the tops of his thighs like he's wiping the sweat off them. "But I saw a YouTube video from one of the guys at your school and wanted to make sure you know every–"
"Dad," Santana stands, abruptly, covering her eyes with her hands. Maybe after this she'll bleach her brain to erase any memory of right now. Out of all the things that have embarrassed her over the past few months don't even come closeto the moment. "I know everything, okay?"
Faded brown eyes meet hers. "I know now you're using protection, but you need to know it's not the most effective choice of contraception especially if you're in a committed relat –"
"Oh my God," she groans. That black hole didn't happen at the party, so maybe it'll pop up here. She can pray. "I know that."
Diego shifts again. "If you want me to sit you both down and we can chat about the other options–"
Santana actually can't hear anymore. It's going to make her ears bleed.
"Seriously, pops," her voice is harder now as she cuts him off. "It's all good," she bobs her head. "We're all good."
This really isn't something they need to discuss. If anything, it's years late as she lost her virginity a while back, and she knows he's coming from a good place because he knows about her and Dani's relationship, but just no. Santana's well up to date with the latest contraceptives, and she and Dani have talked about it, but there's something so serious about changing from condoms to the pill. There's something that'll just make them so official and honestly, it scares the shit out of Santana.
Especially after another fucking moment with Brittany. They can't be happening for no reason.
And thank the heavens, because Diego seems to accept that his daughter knows her stuff and stands up, brushing his palms down the front of his greased-up work shirt. "Okay, honey," he says and makes his way to the bedroom door, twisting open the handle, but pausing before he leaves. "Can I ask you one more thing though?"
Santana flops down on her bed, groaning because she really thought this topic was done with, but she loves her dad, and she knows he means to harm. It's just super fucking awkward talking about sex. Especially with her… situation. "Yeah, dad," she breathes and stares at the ceiling, the back of her hand coming up to her forehead.
"Why are there two different girls coming round?"
Not expecting that, she shoots up, holding herself up with her hands and meets his eyes. "What?"
"Dani and Brittany," Diego replies, eying her in a way that says I know you. Santana swallows thickly. "Just need to know if there's anything I should know."
The indecision flicks through her brain, but she doesn't even know herself. How can she explain something she's not even sure of? And how could she put her dad in a position where he's around Dani, knowing that his daughter has… hidden feelings. That wouldn't be fair to him. As far as he knows, Dani is her girlfriend and Brittany is sort of her best friend, and despite what he just walked in on, nothing happened (again) and they're still just friends.
(She repeats those two words over and over.)
(Maybe one day, she can convince herself.)
"No, dad," the corner of her lip tugs up into an almost-smile. "It's all good."
Diego breathes out slowly, his eyes dropping to the floor in a defeated manner. "Okay, mija," he smiles at her. "I love you, no matter what."
"I know," Santana nods her head. There's a lot of things she's unsure of – her dad loving her isn't one of them. But she can feel the hidden meaning. I love you regardless of what you do "I love you, too."
The door shuts slowly, and Santana throws herself back down to her bed.
In times like these, she needs some sense. In times like these, she needs to speak about her feelings.
Without another thought, she's reaching for her phone and dialling a familiar number.
"What's wrong?" The voice at the other end of the phone says, answering after only two beeps.
Santana manages a chuckle. "Nothing, Q," she says and pinches the bridge of her nose. "We just have a lot to talk about."
/
Thank you, as always.