Wow! Sooo excited to see that you guys already like this. :) Thanks so much to all who read/reviewed!
So here's chapter two. And yes, Brittany is somewhat sometimes a bitch. Maybe you think that's OOC. I don't really care. A good story always has drama, amirite? So she'll probably have mood swings all the time. Oh, and I also sometimes tend to make Brittany smarter than what is portrayed on the show. Like, she can't be a complete idiot. I mean, she's going to college. So..yeah, I'll try to keep her simple, but sometimes, a smart Brittany will show up. Don't freak out. :)
And Santana should usually stay Santana, since I'm always better at writting the badass bitch characters. Hmmm, wonder why. :)
And one more thing: Those of you who re ad my other stories, I'll probably be updating them soon. It's just been crazy, because I kinda took a little break from Rent and got obsessed with Glee. But everything will be updated soon. Promise. :)
And that's all I gotta say, sooo...enjoy. :D
Disclaimer: I don't own Glee, or these characters, or the song Summer Lovin'. I don't own shit.
Santana awoke to the sound of one of her neighbors running their industrial lawn mower. She figured it was the Elliot's with their ridiculous obsession with their lawn. Of course, they had the nicest-looking yard on the whole block, but that ugly-ass fence that they put up prevented anyone from seeing it.
She groaned and picked her head up to switch sides, because her left cheek was unusually numb from sleeping on it. She laid her head on her crossed forearms that were resting on the table, and she closed her eyes, hoping to drift back to sleep, but that fucking lawn mower wouldn't let her even think about sleep.
She sat up in her chair, yawning. She squinted towards the red digital numbers on the microwave across the kitchen from her. 10:15. Damn.
Her eyes felt swollen, and she realized that she had fallen asleep with her contacts in.
"Fuck." She mumbled, immediately pulling them out of her eyes.
She groggily stood from her chair and made her way outside, half blind, deciding that now would be a great time to go for a drive.
She drove halfway across Lima until she reached the small development with the big houses, the development Brittany lived in. She lived almost all the way in the back, the house at the very end of the culdesac. Her house was white, with black shutters and a small balcony out front. Brittany's parents made plenty of money, and Santana always wondered why the military officer and pharmacist never moved to a bigger, more luxurious house.
There weren't any cars parked in the driveway, so Santana went to the front door to check the house. She rang the doorbell, then waited, then rang it again, and waited. No one. Sighing, she made her way to the short white picket fence that encircled the property.
She hopped it with ease, even with her terrible sight. She walked into the backyard and looked around.
Brittany laid outside on her trampoline in the backyard, figuring that if she was closer to the sun, she would tan faster. Her body was pretty much completely covered with baby oil, which made it difficult for her to flip over since she ended up sliding all over the place. Her iPod was blasting Katy Perry into her ears, and her sun glasses shaded her vision. She laid on her stomach, her neck turned and her left cheek starting to lose feeling. She switched sides.
Santana spotted the blonde laying on the trampoline and she snuck over to it, hoping her friend was asleep or at least not paying attention so she could surprise her.
She carefully climbed onto the black surface, which was very hot due to the sun beating down on it. She crawled on all fours to Brittany, and laid down beside her.
Brittany obviously felt the trampoline bouncing beneath her, and it practically scared the shit out of her. But she kept calm and opened an eye, peering passed the dark lens of her shades and to the area of trampoline to her left. Santana. She should've known.
Santana laid on her back and squinted into the bright light of the sun, her hands folded over her stomach. Her head fell to the side and she looked through her clouded eyes to the blonde.
Brittany sensed Santana's gaze burning hotter than the sun on her, and she opened her eyes again, looking at her. Santana had her royal blue tank top pushed up an dher abs were exposed to the sun's rays. Her legs were crossed, one over the other, at the ankles, and she had one hand shielding her eyes from the light and making a shadow. Brittany just rolled over.
But Santana's glance stayed on her, and she sighed, sitting up.
"Hey." She said, sort of mumbled, pushing her sun glasses on top of her head.
"Hey." Santana replied. Brittany reached for the half-empty bottle of baby oil, deciding to pour some more on her already covered body.
Santana watched as the blonde poured some into her hands, then rubbed it over her toned stomach. The way she was sitting made her ab muscles really visible, and Santana had to use most of her energy just to restrain herself from raking her nails across the flexed muscles.
"Did you get my voicemail?" Brittany asked finally, working on her legs now. Santana noticed she was staring and brought her eyes to the girl's face.
"Oh, uh..no." She said. Brittany nodded.
"Oh."
"Did you get my note?" Santana asked somewhat hushed. Brittany felt a pang of guilt inside of her body.
"Yeah, but I didn't get off work until like 11. And I thought you probably at Quinn's party, so I turned in early." She was lying through her teeth, but what Santana didn't know really happened wouldn't kill her. But actually, it might.
Santana nodded and sucked her teeth, staring again at Brittany's shimmering body.
"San, can you put this on my back?" Brittany asked, holding the bottle out to the brunette. She sat up.
"Sure."
Brittany turned her back to Santana, and jumped when the suddenly cool liquid, as well as Santana's warm touch, hit her back. Santana was gentle, carefully working the oil over every square inch of the blonde's back. She slid some over the tops of her shoulders and her sides too, being careful as to not touch Brittany anywhere considered private.
When she finished, Brittany turned to her, smiling.
"Thanks."
Santana nodded, smiling back. "Sure thing."
Brittany laid back down on her stomach, keeping her face towards Santana. Santana lowered herself back down, laying on her back. Brittany's arm reached out to her, and Santana blindedly scrambled for the blonde's hand. She felt it, and latched on, as Brittany intertwined their fingers.
"I'm sorry." Brittany said softly, rubbing the back of Santana's hand with her thumb. "I'm sorry, San."
"For what?"
Brittany chewed her cheek. "For, you know...hurting you."
"What the fuck are you talking about?"
Brittany scooted closer to San, never letting go of her fingers.
"I love you; you know that, right?"
Santana swallowed. "B, please don't bring this up." She pleaded, but Brittany ignored her request.
"I never meant to hurt you, I just...I don't know. Have you ever been in love with two people at once?"
Santana sniffled. "No, I haven't. It's only been one. You. My whole life. You. Only you."
"San, you're making me feel like shit. Stop."
"Well maybe because you made me feel like shit!" She said, sitting up, the trampoline bouncing beneath both of them. "You really hurt me, B."
"Hi," Santana said, folding her hands in front of her. Brittany looked up from her locker, and her blue eyes met the brunette's brown ones.
"Hey." She said, giving her a small smile.
"Can we talk?" Said Santana. Brittany closed her geometry book and placed it in her locker, her brow arching.
"But we never do that."
Santana followed her hand into her locker, a tiny smile pulling at her lips when she saw a picture of herself. "Yeah, I know. But, umm...I wanted to thank you, for performing that song with me in glee club."
Brittany nodded. "Yeah."
"I guess it made me do a lot of thinking. And what I've realized is why I'm such a bitch all the time." She stopped to read Brittany's face, and she got a mixture of confusion and desire. "I'm a bitch because I'm angry. I'm angry because I have all of these feelings..." She tore her eyes away to watch a guy walk past. Not so much to check him out - in fact, not that at all - but to make sure he hadn't been listening.
"...Feelings for you, that I'm afraid of dealing with, because I'm afraid of dealing with the consequences. And Brittany, I can't go to an Indigo Girls concert. I just can't."
Brittany nodded again. "I understand that."
"Do you understand what I'm trying to say here?" Santana asked, and Brittany started to nod once more, before she finally just shook her head.
"No. Not really."
A small sigh escaped from the brunette's lips, and she took a step closer to her best friend.
"I wanna be with you. But, I'm afraid of the talks, and the looks. I mean, you know what happened to Kurt at this school."
"But honey, if anybody were to ever make fun of you, you would either kick their ass or slash them with your vicious, vicious words."
Santana had a few stray tears rolling down her cheeks now. She sniffled. "Yeah, I know, but...I'm so afraid of what everyone will say behind my back. But still, I have to accept that...that I love you. I love you, and I don't want to be with Sam, or Finn, or any of those other guys. I just want you."
Brittany's expression was now blank, and Santana shook her head to clear herself of the worry.
"Please say you love me back." She said, her voice actually showing vulnerability for the first time. "Please."
Brittany gave a smile. "Of course I love you." She said, without a hint of sarcasm or confusion. Santana felt her heart flutter. All the times that Brittany had said those three words, she never knew what they meant to her. But now that it was all out in the open, and now that she understood, Santana was more than relieved to know that Brittany loved her back, in the romantic sense of the word, in the more-than-friends sense of the word.
"I do," She added, and the Latina felt her cheeks burn and turn a rosy pink. "And I'd totally want to be with you," she continued, "..if it weren't for Artie."
Santana felt her stomach drop. She thought she was going to die. Artie? Really? Artie?
She had no words. Nothing was even in her mind right now. She had almost forgotten how to breathe.
"A-Artie?" She finally choked out, hiding her vulnerability behind a mask of tears. Brittany nodded.
"I love him too. I don't wanna hurt him. That's not right. I can't break up with him-"
"Yes you can!" Santana squeaked. "He's just a stupid boy!"
"But it wouldn't be right." Said the blonde, her mind seeming to be made up on its own. "Santana, if Artie and I were to ever break up, and I'm lucky enough that you're still single," She attempted to grab Santana hand, which was crossed in front of her chest, but Santana snatched it away and gave her the most threatening glare she could muster with her tears.
"Don't."
"I'm so yours. Proudly so."
Santana rolled her eyes, her breath staggering.
"Yeah. Wow. Who ever thought that being fluid meant you could be so stuck?" She said. Brittany soaked in the words, but didn't change her mind.
"I'm sorry." She said, and stepped into the girl, wrapping her arms around her. Santana felt the soft, familiar touch and wrenched herself away.
"Get off me!" She sniffled. The Cheerio dropped her arms back to her sides. She watched - motionless, speechless, breathless - as Santana walked quickly away from her.
"I said I was sorry!" Brittany shouted, tears stinging in her eyes. "I don't know what else you want!"
Santana yanked her hand away. "Yes you do! I want you, don't you fucking get that? I've wanted you, just you, since we met, B. I want us to go on dates to Breadstix together. I want to slow dance with you at prom. I want you to want me. And I gave you the chance, B. I broke up with Sam for you. I said that I fucking love you, B, and you-"
Santana was cut off mid-sentence by Brittany, their lips pressed together with passion. Brittany's hands cupped Santana's cheeks, and Santana's hands twisted familiarly into the blonde's long hair. Clearly this wasn't their first time.
Their bodies were closely pressed together, so much so that Santana could feel the contours of Brittany's hip bones and breasts against her own. Santana pulled back, breathless, and waited desperately as blue eyes searched brown.
"I love you." Brittany whispered, causing the brunete's heart to flutter. "I love you, don't you get that?"
Sorry I keep leaving you guys on these cliff hangers. But hey, it keeps things fun. :) Kinda shorter chapter, kinda random and shitty too, but in my defense, there are the beginning chapters, we're just getting into the story. So everything will get better, just give it time.
Oh & also, review. It makes me feel a whole lot better knowing that people actually like my writing. :)
And thanks. :)