Rhythms

by thefooliam

When Brittany graduates and moves to New York, Santana realizes that all her dreams are coming true, just not how she expected. Sequel to (I've Got To Admit) It's Getting Better. Spoilers up to 4x18 "Shooting Stars"

5. Frustrations

Frustrations

When the first breath hitches quietly in the back of Brittany's throat, Santana's instantly aware that it isn't from pleasure.

She keeps kissing her, if only to see if she can make things better that way, but knows it's impossible when another breath catches in Brittany's throat, accompanied by a whimper of discomfort. Their mouths disconnect and Santana wastes time kissing Brittany's face in order to work out her next move, listening as Brittany pants breathlessly against her neck. Her hands stroke over the muscles in Brittany's shoulder blades and notice how tense and hard they are beneath her fingers. She presses against them, noticing how Brittany's breath hitches again, her mouth reaching forward to kiss against Santana's throat in a way that feels struggled and desperate.

"Hey… hey…" Santana whispers, her kisses migrating from Brittany's forehead down to the bridge of her nose as she pushes her back into the armchair. "You're hurting."

Brittany shakes her head and tries to kiss her. It makes Santana smile when Brittany catches her bottom lip between her own and sucks it softly. Her hand reaches up to grab Brittany's cheek, to push her hair back behind her ear, kissing her nose as she pulls back to press her own against it.

"You're hurting," she whispers again, fond and firm as Brittany looks at her with a furrowed brow. "Here…"

Brittany whimpers when Santana climbs off her lap to grab her purse. Santana can't help but notice the preoccupation in her eyes as she comes back, maneuvering her body so that she's no longer draped across Brittany's lap. Instead, she presses her knees into the leather on either side of Brittany's thighs, smirking at the sight of Brittany's suddenly alert and dazed expression staring warmly up at her. There's still a struggle in her face, though, a tension in her muscles like she doesn't know how to relax.

Her good hand reaches to grab at Santana's thigh, her fingers grasping at the fabric of her overalls. Santana reaches forward to press a pacifying kiss to her forehead, her other hand reaching into the depths of her coat pocket until she finds what she's looking for.

"Don't be mad, okay?" she whispers as she pulls it out. Brittany's eyes flutter down to her hands and she's sure she sees some relief until Brittany's head falls to relax against the back of the chair. She sighs and Santana leans forward to kiss her just because she can, just because she knows it'll make things just a tiny bit better. "I don't like it when you're hurting…" she whispers in explanation. "You know that…"

Something washes over Brittany's face and it softens like she's noticed something that she didn't realize she needed. The hand on Santana's overalls loosens and Santana feels the gentle touch of her fingers pressing against her thigh and moving upwards.

"Thank you," Brittany whispers and Santana presses their noses together, sighing softly in her own relief. It's hard not to just keep kissing Brittany until she can't breathe.

"I don't get why you didn't want it in the first place," she whispers, stroking Brittany's cheeks. "You must be hurting everywhere…"

Brittany's eyes flutter. "Just my back and my legs… and my wrist…" she says before swallowing slowly. "And my elbow a little bit, I guess…"

She smiles weakly when Santana purses her lips in worry.

"And I didn't want them because those pills are gonna make me dopey…" she explains as the smile disappears from her face, her expression changing into something that makes Santana's heartbeat pick up.

She swallows as stealthily as she can at the sight of it, of how Brittany's face is now shadowed with guilt.

"I didn't want to need you anymore than I was going to," Brittany explains honestly. "I didn't want to need you at all."

Santana's face falls and she pulls back, her backside falling to resolutely rest on Brittany's knees. She looks away from Brittany's face and instead looks around the rooftop at the lights and the fireworks still going off far in the distance. She runs her lips together and blinks slowly before looking at Brittany realizing that this honesty is good. This honesty is going to make them better. It's what makes her speak in return.

"But I like it when you need me," she admits in a whisper.

The words must force something inside of Brittany, an uncontrollable feeling surging deep inside of her as she reaches for Santana. Her face contorts into a different kind of pain and her hands reach for Santana's hips. She tugs her forward until their bodies are tight together and it makes Santana gasp because she didn't realize Brittany still had the strength.

Her arms wrap around Brittany's neck and she looks down at her, gaze thick with the want and desperation that she sees mirrored back in Brittany's eyes.

"I always need you," Brittany mumbles and whatever the meaning, it still makes Santana shiver.

She leans forward to kiss Brittany slowly, verging on indecent. When she pulls back, Brittany's eyes are cloudy and she looks like she's been hit with something large and heavy. It makes Santana smirk and she sits back on her knees, popping open the lid of the Vicoprofen before reading the label on the side.

"It says you're only allowed to take one of these every four to six hours…" she mutters as she turns the bottle to the light, her glasses slipping dangerously to the end of her nose. "Doesn't sound enough to me but, whatever. I'm not a doctor. Open up…"

Brittany looks at her in a daze until Santana hovers one of the pills over her mouth. Her eyes cross to stare at it and Santana smiles at her before giggling.

"C'mon, open up and I'll get you a drink," she says, her own mouth opening as Brittany's lips part to take the pill.

Santana drops it onto her tongue before reaching into her purse beside her. When she finds the juice box, Brittany gives her a sleepy smile as she pierces the straw through the hole and holds it to her lips. She gulps some down and opens her mouth to show Santana the pill has gone without her even asking. Santana smiles and leans forward to kiss her on the forehead before putting the bottle inside Brittany's coat pocket instead.

"These things are gonna turn me into a complete dope," Brittany repeats, her eyes fluttering. "But if they're anything like what they gave me yesterday… they're gonna be awesome."

Santana giggles and kisses her nose, moving down to her cheek before leaning back. Brittany's head is as far back against the back of the chair as it can be and Santana looks down at her, blushing gently when she finds Brittany watching her. A cold, good hand reaches up to stroke over the swell of her cheek before Brittany pushes her glasses up the bridge of her nose. It makes her blush more and she clutches at the front of Brittany's coat as her smile turns lesser than soft, barely there and fond. It's almost like she doesn't even realize she's doing it.

The fact that Santana leans forward and kisses it away makes perfect sense.

"We should go downstairs," Santana pants against Brittany's cheeks. "It's cold and it can't be good for you to be sitting in this chair. You should be lying down—"

"Are you trying to get me into bed?" Brittany mumbles against her lips before kissing her again. It's deep and wet and Santana lets it go on for too many seconds before pulling back.

"Yes," she says, pulling back when Brittany smirks and leans forward. "But not like that. You need to rest. You need—you need—" Her hands move to Brittany's shoulders, pushing her back so that she can't kiss her anymore. "You need a bath and you need comfy PJs and maybe some hot chocolate… Then you need bed."

And when Brittany's eyes cloud over even more than they were already, Santana knows that she's right. She smiles and presses one last pacifying kiss to Brittany's lips before climbing off her and reaching for her bag. When she turns around, Brittany's still sat down, her eyes following Santana's every movement. She bites her lip and Santana watches her carefully before tilting her head to the side in question.

"Will you help me?" Brittany finally asks.

The question makes Santana grin.

"Of course."

/

It takes them a while to get down all the stairs. Now that Santana can wrap an arm around her to help, she discovers that Brittany's body is tired and sluggish. It weighs heavy on both of them and she presses a kiss to Brittany's cheek halfway down, just to perk her up a bit.

It's the least she can do after the day that Brittany's had. She's still pumped full of extra-strong painkillers and sedatives that might not completely wear off for another day. She's barely slept and she probably hurts like a bitch. It makes Santana feel guilty for feeling so tired because Brittany's probably had less sleep than she has. When they finally reach their front door, Brittany leans heavily against the wall beside it and pants like she's reached the top of Mount Everest.

And just like when they got back from the hospital, Brittany collapses down onto the couch once they're inside. Her eyes flutter and Santana knows that they don't have long before Brittany won't be moving anywhere for at least eight hours. She steps up to her and forces her hands under the shoulders of Brittany's coat, pushing it down her arms until it can bunch around her hips. She sits on the coffee table and reaches for Brittany's feet, careful of her twisted ankle as she unfastens the laces on her chucks and pulls them from her feet.

"Wait here," she says once she's done and Brittany's closed eyes flutter open when she leans forward to kiss her left eyebrow. "I'm gonna go run you a bath," she whispers. "I'll be back in a second."

Brittany nods and Santana kisses her, just to hear her let out a sleepy sigh.

On the way, she kicks off her own coat and boots and turns on the heating. The hardwood floors are cold and she breathes in sharply at the feel of them, freezing her toes through her socks. The bathroom is even colder and she goes straight for the hot tap, turning it on until the steam bellows from it before she puts in the plug and pours in the bubbles. She goes to the hall closet and finds Brittany a pile of fluffy clean towels that she leaves on the radiator before sneaking off to her bedroom and finding what she needs.

She lights the candles before settling them all over the counter by the sink. It's stupid but when she steps outside the door and looks back in, bubbles rise from the water and the candles flicker making the room look warm and inviting. She smiles and wanders out to find Brittany, leaning over the back of the couch to stroke over her cheek to wake her back up.

She follows willingly, stopping in the hallway when Santana makes her. She looks up at her sleepily before looking inside the bathroom and seeing all the candles. Her shoulders soften and she smiles in thanks, leaning forward to embrace her quickly.

"Are you getting in too?" she asks sheepishly but Santana quickly shakes her head.

"It's for you," she whispers and then proceeds to reach for Brittany's sling.

She takes it off carefully, reversing the instructions that Edie gave them at the hospital before setting it aside. Brittany looks at the bandages on her arm and pouts at the restriction, wincing when it hurts.

She stops when Santana gets to work on the buttons of her shirt, watching in the way that Santana had wanted her to when she was dressing her at the hospital. Her eyes are warm and thankful. The fingertips that peek from the edge of her thick bandages of her splint stroke teasingly over Santana's wrists as she moves lower and lower. Santana moves her hands beneath the shirt and pushes it off her shoulders, helping her untangle it as it gets past her cast. It doesn't feel as weird as dressing her had. Santana breathes out softly, feeling at ease instead.

"This is going to be such a pain in the ass," Brittany whispers and Santana giggles as she tosses the shirt to the side and reaches for the waistband of Brittany's sweatpants. It shuts Brittany up instantly and she looks down nervously as Santana pushes them down her legs without pause.

Santana feels her gaze and presses as chaste kiss to the bruise on her thigh because of it.

"Still hurting?" she asks coolly once she's tossed Brittany's socks onto the pile too. Her eyes are level with Brittany's chin and she kisses it quickly as her hands bunch in the bottom of Brittany's NYU t-shirt and shift closer.

Brittany doesn't answer and swallows before that barely-there smile returns to her mouth. She looks down at Santana's lips before glancing up at her eyes. Santana follows them this time and recognizes that look and the uncomfortable desperation in it. She's seen it a million times before and it's probably too soon for that now. Brittany's good hand clutches at her hip as her eyes stare preoccupied at Santana's mouth.

It makes Santana wonder if she even knows that she's doing any of it and she gives a rough tug to Brittany's shirt to grab her attention. Blue eyes quickly flick to hers and it tells Santana what she needs to know.

"A little…" Brittany says and Santana isn't sure if she's lying or not. It's too hard to see through the blush of guilt that washes over her features.

Instead, she tugs at the bottom of Brittany's t-shirt, lifting it carefully. It's a struggle in the tiny bathroom, what with one arm completely immobile and the other wrapped in a thick bandage. Brittany giggles when they get caught up and grins at Santana's concentration.

When the t-shirt is tossed onto the pile too, Santana stops and stares at Brittany unabashedly. Brittany is silent as Santana's eyes admire her naked torso, her hands trailing up Brittany's side before edging closer to her chest. She bypasses Brittany's breasts to get to the bruises she'd seen that morning. The tips of her fingers trace around them, trying not to count them before she moves in to wrap her arms around Brittany's body.

She can't help but press a kiss to the bruise on her collarbone. It's the biggest and Brittany winces a little before settling into the feel. A sigh leaves her lips and Santana's fingers rest at Brittany's bare back, pinky finger slipping beneath the elastic of her underwear without even noticing as her tongue pokes out to soothe it.

Brittany moans and fingernails bury into Santana's hip. It makes her wince and she pulls back after pressing one last kiss against the skin.

"Sorry…" she whispers and Brittany shakes her head in a daze, completely missing what Santana's apologizing for. She feels Brittany's chin brushing against her cheek, her skin nuzzling into her own, and kisses her quickly before stepping back.

The lack of contact clicks her brain back into action and she jolts as all the things she'd forgotten come back to her. "We have to protect your splint," she says, stepping away further. "Hang on I need to go get some stuff…"

Brittany's mouth opens to stop her but it's too late, Santana's already left.

/

When she comes back, she's weirdly shocked to find that Brittany's already managed to get her underwear off.

She sits naked on the closed seat of the toilet, broken wrist half held in the air as she looks at it with disdain. Santana stares for a moment but snaps out of it quickly when Brittany speaks.

"How many weeks do I have to have this?" she asks. The grumpiness in her voice is cute and petulant.

Santana almost manages to forget that she's naked. "One to three weeks," she says.

She drops the supplies from Edie into the empty sink before turning to her. Brittany frowns at the roll of plastic wrap in her hands.

"What?" is all that she can say.

Santana smiles. "We can't get it wet," she explains, reaching for her arm and wrapping it in the plastic wrap before she can refuse. "You can take it off once we're done."

"Both of 'em?" Brittany asks, gesturing to the bandage around her other elbow.

Santana shakes her head as she bites off the plastic wrap and pats it down. "Just this one. I'm going to wash and change the other one. You're covered in blood."

"Gross," Brittany whispers and lets Santana guide her until she's stepping into the bath.

She urges Brittany to rest her broken arm against the edge of the tub before she kneels beside it and reaches for the other elbow. Brittany watches her quietly, smiling softly as Santana's glasses slip down her nose as she peels away the tape. What were once white bandages look grayer now. Santana bunches them in her hands as she gets closer to the dressing. It's caked in blood and she grabs for the trashcan before tossing everything in it.

"It bled a lot when it happened," Brittany tells her quietly as she reaches for an old washcloth and a serving bowl they stole from Kurt. She fills the bowl with warm clean water as Brittany inspects the stitches. "It was kinda gross. I should have taken a picture to show everyone."

Santana smiles and kneels back beside her, before starting to wipe the dry blood caked to the back of her arm. It's tough and the skin is sensitive. Brittany winces every once in a while until her arm is clean and they can see where her skin is sutured and glued together. She grimaces down at it, the flesh red, angry and swollen, before pouting up at Santana.

Santana kisses it away without a thought, happy when Brittany gives her a dopey smile.

She kisses her again, just because.

"Will you wash my hair?" Brittany asks softly. Santana nods and peels off the small band-aid they put on the back of Brittany's hand when they took out the cannula. Brittany blinks at her and sighs. "And the rest of me?"

Santana giggles. "Of course."

Blue eyes become hazy and Santana pushes blonde hair from them as her smile gets wider. Brittany looks stoned as hell.

"Awesome," she whispers, dreamily.

Santana just chuckles and nods.

/

"Are you hungry?" Santana asks as she puts clean bandages where all the others used to be.

Brittany's eyes droop and Santana's not even sure how she lasted this long.

"You made us mac and cheese," she says sleepily. Santana stops and looks at her gently, feeling warmth rush to her cheeks. She rests her hand on Brittany's arm and waits for her to finish. "You got fresh bread and chicken nuggets and you made me my favorite dinner but I didn't come home."

The sadness of Brittany's truth and the happiness at hearing her say the word 'home' form a strange reaction inside of Santana. She stares back at Brittany and doesn't know what to say. Instead, she just shrugs and watches as Brittany blinks slowly, smile soft and timid.

"I'm sorry I did that," she whispers, her forehead falling forward to lean against Santana's. "I'm sorry I ruined it."

Quickly, Santana shakes her head and kisses her cheek. "No, no, you didn't… Plus, it doesn't matter," she whispers. Her hand cups Brittany's cheek and she sighs. "You like it better when it's leftovers, anyway."

Brittany's smile grows and all Santana can do is trace her thumb over it until it gets bigger.

/

Brittany's still sat in the bathroom in a towel twenty minutes later, clean, fresh and moisturized. Santana tidies the room as she brushes her teeth and watches her through the mirror as she works slowly.

"You didn't answer me earlier," she says eventually only for Brittany to look up at her and frown. "Are you hungry?"

Brittany pauses but then shakes her head.

Santana steps up to her and wraps an arm around her waist. "Well, is there anything else you want?"

Brittany pauses before another silly smile covers her face. "Um. Peppermint hot chocolate," she giggles. "With marshmallows."

Santana smiles and kisses her bare shoulder. "Okay," she nods. "You go get your jammies on and get comfy. I'm just going to the store."

/

Mr. Broadsky is sat in the exact same place he was when she came in earlier.

"Still looking?" he says from over the top of his book. It's huge and worn and he sets it down as she sidles up to the counter.

"Why are you still open?" she asks in disdain. He tries to get her more cigarettes but she waves him off quickly.

He rolls his eyes and speaks. "It's New Year's Eve… We don't close."

Santana shrugs and stores away that piece of information.

"What do you want?" he asks. "Still looking for your girl?"

Santana shakes her head and tries not to smile. "No, no… she's at home," she says. "She's had a rough day and she's on medication so she's having a rough New Year's. She wants peppermint hot chocolate and I know it's a long shot but I was wondering if you had any."

Mr. Broadsky just smiles at her and points to the back of the store. "Aisle four," he says. "Marshmallows are at the back."

/

When she reaches the apartment, she expects to hear the noise from the TV or Brittany's laptop or something but the whole apartment is quiet.

She sets down her keys and takes off her coat before wandering through to find Brittany.

She's not on the couch and, when Santana pushes open her bedroom door, her drawers are open but she's not there. It makes her frown and she'd be lying if she said that it didn't make her panic just a little bit. She moves to the bathroom to see if she's still there but it's empty apart from her used towel. Santana walks to the kitchen to expect her to have fallen asleep at the table (because it wouldn't be the first time) but she's not there either.

Something warms in her chest and Santana slows her steps as she moves towards her own bedroom. Her feet come to a halt when she reaches the door and she pushes it open slowly, cursing that damn squeaky hinge as it whines back at her.

But it's not like it matters. She couldn't care less about a squeaky door once she sees what's in her bed. Her body relaxes and she falls into the doorframe, a smile tugging on her lips as she relishes the sight of her.

She looks small at the same time she looks like the biggest and best thing in the world. Her body curls into the empty space beside her, a cushion underneath her broken arm to keep it safe. Her clean, dry hair litters Santana's new pillows and her chest rises and falls under her covers, comfortable and completely relaxed.

She looks perfect. She looks like she's exactly where she should be and Santana doesn't know why she feels so shocked by Brittany's choice to be here. It feels like the most obvious one.

She kicks off her boots and shoves down her overalls in seconds. The fact that she's been wearing this shirt for over twenty-four hours doesn't matter because she needs to be with her. She needs to remember what it feels like to sleep beside her and be fully aware of it. She doesn't want to wake up hungover to a naked Brittany in her bed tonight; she wants to fall asleep with a onesie-wearing Brittany as her cold feet shock her own.

She slips in beside her, forgetting the lights she left on and the drapes she forgot to close. She forgets the peppermint hot chocolate and the extra large bag of marshmallows. She forgets the bag of all Brittany's favorite things and instead, she lets her body curl around Brittany's, propping her head up on her hand as she watches her sleep for a while. A smile graces her lips and Brittany stirs when she settles in and wraps an arm around her. Her own warm feet touch Brittany's cold ones and Brittany breathes in deeply at the sensation before turning slightly to look at her.

"You're back," she whispers, her hands and fingers grasping for the arm around her waist.

Santana gently kisses her cheek. "You're in my bed," she says and it's not an accusation but an observation.

Brittany hums and nuzzles into the lips on her cheeks before letting herself be pulled onto her back against Santana. Santana holds her entirely, cradling Brittany's body with her own, and presses her nose into Brittany's hair. She relaxes instantly and Santana pulls the covers over them, watching as Brittany's eyes close again. She thinks she's asleep and it's not until Santana's turned off the lamp and wormed her arm tighter around Brittany's soft and lovely body that she's proved wrong.

"Our bed," Brittany whispers, finding Santana's hands and tangling their fingers together.

The words make Santana breathe in sharply, her smile curling at her lips in a way that feels permanent and irremovable. She tugs the covers until they're right under Brittany's chin and squeezes her tightly. She kisses her temple and buries her nose into the smell of Brittany's hair.

She smells fresh and clean, soft and gentle, just like normal.

"Our bed," she agrees.

For the first time in what feels like forever, it only takes her seconds to fall asleep.

/

She wakes up to the feel of a warm and comfortable weight settling comfortably against her.

It's kind of confusing for a minute but, when she remembers who it is, she opens her body wider. Her arms and her hips spread further open and she quickly wraps herself back around the familiar body that soon fills the empty spaces. A low hum fills her ears and she smiles as Brittany relaxes completely into her and pulls the covers over them.

"Where'd you go?" Santana mumbles as Brittany pulls her arm until it's around her neck, bicep pressed against her cheek.

Brittany presses a kiss against it a second later and, sleepy and calm, Santana wishes that there were no t-shirt there to keep away the feel of Brittany's mouth.

"Pain meds," Brittany mumbles around an exhausted sigh. "Needed water."

Santana holds her tighter, leaning to stroke her nose against the side of Brittany's head. "Hurting?" she asks. Brittany nods and it makes her more alert. "You okay?"

"Edie was right," she mumbles and Santana takes a moment to notice how Brittany's body is even tighter now than it was before they went to sleep. She feels uncomfortable and heavy. Her breathing is struggled and her body is warmer than it should be. "I tried to hold out on taking another one as long as I could except now I'm kinda wishing I'd asked for something stronger."

Santana pouts and nuzzles closer, kissing the back of Brittany's ear. She lets one eye open slightly and notices that it's morning but it's still kind of dark and miserable outside. If she listens, she can hear the sound of the rain still hammering down on the sidewalk. If it weren't an already obvious choice, she'd say they should stay in all day and watch movies.

"Is there more pain or is it like it was last night?" she asks and loves the way Brittany softens just a little bit, just from her whispering and stroking her arm. Brittany pokes her tongue out to moisten her lips before she speaks and Santana can tell that she's still tired. "Did you sleep yet?"

Brittany shakes her head. "Couldn't," she says and everything kind of makes sense then. The warmth of her body, the croak in her voice and the way she clutches at Santana are nothing new for a tired Brittany. "I did for a little while but then my back started to hurt again and it's hard to put weight on my backside because the bruise hurts. I can't lay on my side like I want to and I want to try lying on my front but I don't know where I'd put my arms."

Santana presses a kiss to Brittany's head and then lies there silently as she tries to think. When her only idea comes, she supports Brittany's arms as she sits them both up in the middle of the bed. Brittany groans but doesn't argue when Santana jumps up and starts rearranging the pillows. There are too many and Santana sets them in a U-shape before laying back down flat to the mattress.

"Turn around and lay on me," she says and Brittany does, fitting her hips and legs over Santana before pressing their bodies together. Her head rests on the pillow beside Santana's and her arms automatically reach up to halo around them on the pillow. Santana smiles and pulls pillows under Brittany's arms to support her. Her eyes flutter at the comfort and Santana can't help but kiss her nose, just because.

"Better?" she asks

Brittany's eyes flutter cutely and Santana loves that she can still wrap her arms around her, that she can stroke up and down Brittany's back unhindered. She pulls the covers up to Brittany's hips and presses a reassuring palm against the bottom of Brittany's spine.

"But now you can't get up," Brittany says and it makes Santana jump because she thought she'd already fallen asleep.

She kisses Brittany's nose, her cheek, before kissing her gently on the eyelids.

"I don't need to," she whispers. "Get some sleep."

Brittany's already breathing as deep and steady as she can.

/

When Santana wakes up next, it's on her own.

She can't have been asleep more than a couple of hours. It's still gross and dark outside and the rain sounds like it's gotten harder. When she turns her head to the side, Brittany is still in a deep sleep. She doesn't stir when Santana strokes their noses together, or when she reaches up as best she can to push blond hair from Brittany's eyes.

It makes Santana grin and she watches Brittany quietly for longer than can seem innocent, taking in every inch of Brittany's face.

It's been a long time since she's been able to do this… probably too long in fact. She misses it because it's not really something that happened often. Brittany nearly always wakes up first to be the one doing the watching. She was always there to make sure that the first thing Santana saw was a smile. And, sure, they probably look ridiculous right now with Brittany's arms splayed awkwardly on the pillows and Santana clutching at her like she's a life raft, but she doesn't care. Not when she can be the person to make sure the first thing Brittany sees today is a smile.

And it takes a couple more hours of waiting, until it's probably almost dark again and the rain is hitting the sidewalks so hard that it's all you can hear, but Santana gets to do that. She gets to watch Brittany's sleepy eyes flutter open and immediately find hers. She gets to smile at her softly and press their noses together before breathing her in. She gets to whisper a gentle "hi" and wait for Brittany to say the same old "hey" back.

She finally gets to do that again and that's what makes all this real.

/

She's not sure how long she watches Brittany doze in her arms.

Blue eyes flutter, fighting the urge to fall back to sleep under the feel of Santana's fingertips stroking the length of her back. Her face is relaxed, her cheek pressed into the pillow in complete content. Her body feels soft and comfortable and brilliantly familiar. It tucks into all of Santana's curves and quarries and makes her feel together again.

She remembers waking up to Brittany just like this two years ago to the day. Two long years ago when she foolishly thought they'd never be apart from each other again. She was full of hope and dreams and thought she knew everything. She took it all for granted back then. She had no idea that she would have to go hundreds of days without holding her, hundreds of days without really hearing her voice. As she ponders that, she feels herself longing for the moments that it's too late to get back. It's impossible and, really, they won't mean anything in the scheme of things. They'll have dozens of New Year's Days spent waking up to each other.

Missing one doesn't matter.

Not really. Not when she came so close to losing them all.

She could have been waking up alone, barely slept, straining to listen to Brittany's breathing across the apartment just to feel safe. She could be in Louisville. Brittany could be in Ohio or somewhere else entirely. Things could have been a lot worse than they were. Santana's lucky. She's got Brittany in her arms and her breath is warm against her cheeks. She has blue eyes fluttering open yet again to look at her, pupils dilating in recognition before they flutter closed again.

Santana can't help but feel that Brittany's just as relieved as she is.

She leans forward to kiss Brittany's nose and pulls back just in time to see those eyes flutter open again. Brittany still looks exhausted but not as much. Her cheeks are pink and glowing. She shuffles her head closer to Santana's on the pillow until her nose strokes Santana's jawline.

"How's the pain?" Santana asks. The feel of Brittany's nose teamed with the sensation of her eyelashes fluttering against her skin is a little overwhelming after so long. Her hands slide up Brittany's back to rub at her shoulders.

"It's okay," Brittany croaks out, clearing her throat after. It focuses Santana's attention. "Better than it was."

Santana nods and turns her head to find blue eyes. The need to shift her body down the bed is almost subconscious. She does it without realizing until she feels one of Brittany's hands above them resting atop her head.

"Did you sleep okay?" she asks as fingers tangle lazily in her hair. Brittany's nose presses against hers and she feels Brittany's answer more than sees it. Her nose strokes softly over Santana's until her eyes grow heavy and unable to look at anything but Brittany's sleepy mouth. "Good," she whispers. "That's really good."

Brittany nods in agreement as her head tilts to the side. Her lips part and Santana breathes in quickly as she follows, her eyes fluttering closed the minute that warm lips press surely against hers.

And everything is different in the weird grey daylight. She feels like Brittany should taste cold but instead she tastes of warmth and comfort. Their mouths press lazily together, parting after long moments that shrink in duration with the more pressure they exert against each other. It's so soft, so relaxed, that it doesn't seem plausible that Santana's body is this soft, this free. Brittany's hand strokes through her hair, behind her ear, and Santana feels completely weightless.

It's not until Brittany pulls back and blue eyes open to reveal a storm of color behind them that Santana feels her heart rate increase. Brittany's breath labors steadily from her and Santana barely manages to draw in a gasp before lips are attacking hers again, fast and desperate. Her hands find purchase on Brittany's hips before releasing their grip at Brittany's sharp intake of breath. Santana shifts them to the dip of her waist and lets her eyes flutter at the overwhelming reminders of what it is to really kiss her.

Because she'd forgotten how Brittany's lips are smooth but act rough sometimes. Without the cloak of alcohol to numb her senses, she can remember how they capture her own and suck on them with effortlessness. Her tongue swipes steadily over Santana's bottom lip and Santana opens her mouth without any further encouragement to let it delve inside and explore her. Brittany's so careful in her actions that Santana can tell she's trying to remember this too.

A hand pries her away from the pillow, sneaking its way between her head and the fabric. It pulls her closer to Brittany's mouth until they're kissing deep enough that Santana can feel a tongue at the roof of her mouth. Her hips rock almost uncontrollably upwards and she would feel ashamed but Brittany's gasping and rocking back.

They part abruptly and Brittany pants against her mouth, desperate for breath as fingers curl into her scalp. Santana just stares, too aware of the pulse travelling throughout her body. Brittany looks at her hungrily, lips moist and cheeks flushed. Santana would feel nervous if she didn't already know what that meant and she surges up at the same time Brittany's mouth descends again, moaning into her as her own hands begin to wander her body.

It's hard to stop them from trying to touch every inch of her. Brittany rocks steadily against her and Santana's hand slips from her waist to her hip until finally settling against her ass. She finds purchase there, her fingers trying not to dig into Brittany's surely sensitive skin as the friction against her body grows. Brittany doesn't seem to care, not even when Santana grabs harshly when kisses meander to her jaw, sucking lazily downward until Brittany finds the smooth expanse of Santana's neck.

"Fuck," Santana breathes into the ever-increasing warmth of the room. "We should—oh—we should stop… we should stop… we should…"

Her words trail off into a moan as Brittany's tongue swipes a line up her throat. Her body begins to shake uncontrollably and she's almost glad that Brittany's atop her, weighing her down. It anchors her but it's not enough. Her hand drifts to Brittany's head, tangling in the back of her hair as she forces Brittany's mouth to hers. She kisses her hard, lips sucking at Brittany's until she's sure they might bruise as her hands migrate back down Brittany's body, out of control.

It's a little too much too sudden and the sensory overload is overwhelming. Brittany's mouth kisses at her lips, her tongue exploring and her nose comfortably tucking into her cheek. Her hair litters around them and it's too bright, too angelic. Her breath gasps from her and she doesn't know how Brittany has the energy or the ability to do this with all her injuries. Her thighs squeeze tightly at Santana's and Santana's so overwhelmed by the forgotten warmth of them that it's hard to remember that she should be resting.

"Santana…" Brittany mumbles into her ear and it's only then that Santana realizes they're rocking together, that her hands are gripped at Brittany's ass and urging closer. Brittany's breath hitches and it takes too long for Santana to realize that there's something hidden within the pleasure, a sharpness that she doesn't like the sound of. The movements of her body don't feel as smooth and wonderful as they usually do, just struggled and hurt.

She pulls back and stops abruptly. She watches as Brittany's eyes flutter open and witnesses the subconscious relief wash over her face. It mixes with the disappointment and there's no need to say anything as their gazes catch. Brittany groans before letting her face fall into the pillow beside Santana's head. Her hands move from Santana's hair to her own and she scrunches her fingers into it in frustration as she catches her breath.

Santana can do little else but pant softly into soft blonde hair and press a kiss into the warm cheek beside her.

"How much longer am I gonna be like this?" she asks, muffled by the pillow.

Santana tries not to giggle and wraps her arms around Brittany's back. Her hands drift up and down Brittany's spine to soothe her and she strokes her nose against Brittany's temple just because she knows she likes it.

"I don't know," Santana whispers because it's true. Brittany might be in a cast for six weeks and have stitches for a few days but Santana doesn't know how long the aches will last or when the bruises will fade. They'd be naïve to think all of this is going to be easy but that doesn't really matter. "It's probably for the best," she continues. "I wouldn't want to hurt you and make it worse."

Brittany nuzzles her way into Santana's neck, her arm curling back around the pillow as her body sinks into Santana's.

"It'd be worth it," she whispers causing Santana to giggle. A smile forms against her neck and she has to fight not to kiss Brittany again, to tackle her onto her back and pull everything from her, especially when a gentle kiss presses to her throat. "So worth it."

Santana's head tilts back, letting the kiss linger further up her neck. She would be worried but she can tell that nothing will come it, nothing but Brittany's happiness and comfort. She knows it'll be rough for a while. She knows that Brittany will probably be a total brat about it until the day she gets her way but that she'll do as she's told.

That's why Santana doesn't feel bad for teasing her.

"The next time we make love," she whispers lowly. "I'm not gonna stop until we've made up for all those months you waited." Brittany's head shifts and Santana feels her turn slightly towards her. "I'm going to have you exactly how I want you so you have to get better… just so I can make you ache for different reasons."

A smug smile graces Santana's face when she hears Brittany's deep and heavy intake of breath and she stares up at the ceiling proudly. Brittany doesn't speak and Santana's sure she has no response. She thinks she's won until Brittany's body shifts up, thigh forcing its way between Santana's bare legs and pressing down strongly. A mouth descends on her quickly, kissing her with teeth and tongue and promise before its pulls away and dark eyes stare down at her.

And that's when Santana learns that Brittany isn't going to be the only one frustrated.

/

Santana had kind of forgotten the simple joy of just laying in bed all day with someone.

She'd forgotten how warm it is, how small and cramped and close it is sharing a mattress with someone. She'd forgotten what it's like to wake up from the best kind of sleep and feel the body of someone else pressed against her own.

She'd forgotten how not-lonely it feels to hold someone in your arms.

She wakes up for what feels like the tenth time that day and realizes that this year is already one million times better than the last one. Brittany's blond hair litters her face, her nose tucked into the spot just below her ear. She can feel soft, gentle breaths hitting her cheeks and it's awesome. She smiles without realizing and turns her head, nose stroking over skin until she can run it against Brittany's.

Brittany sighs before a smirk covers her face. She kisses Santana without even waiting and that's what Santana's missed too. Kisses with no rhyme or reason are the best kind of kisses.

"I forgot this," Brittany whispers eventually and the melancholy in her words causes Santana to hold her breath and release it slowly.

She knows Brittany doesn't mean she'd forgotten how they kiss, how they feel, what each other's touch is like. She knows that Brittany isn't talking about waking up together and falling asleep with each other. Santana knows what Brittany really means because she feels the same. She'd forgotten the feeling of being connected to someone completely, the comfort of being with someone who knows and understands you entirely. She knows that what Brittany really means is that they forgot each other for a while, they forgot how stupid they can be, how scared, how desperate they become and they let themselves get further and further away from each other. They forgot each other and they broke, they broke and they didn't work but now they're going to fix it. They're going to try to fix it.

Santana lets one arm wrap tighter around Brittany's body, clutching it to her own, before the other tangles in her hair. She swallows nervously because for the first time she remembers they've already proven once that this can all go wrong. Nothing is for sure. It might not be the same anymore.

Her fingers tighten in Brittany's hair and she pulls her closer because that's not true. She knows that her feelings for Brittany will always be the same. Together or apart, they grow bigger every single day, but they never change. Sometimes she wonders how she'll ever contain all of them.

That thought is only proved when she pulls Brittany in to press their lips together.

"Why didn't you just ask me to come back?" Santana whispers moments later, her voice low and hushed and ashamed. She still hates herself and remembering how wonderful this is only makes that worse. "Why didn't you just tell me to shut up and come home to you that day in the choir room? Why did you let me let you go?"

Brittany's face hardens and her good hand reaches up so that her thumb can swipe over the few tears that escape Santana. She brushes them away quickly like she wants to pretend they aren't there. It takes her ages to answer.

"I thought you didn't love me anymore," she finally whispers. A sad smile tugs at her lips and Santana sees the remnants of fear blush at her cheeks. "I thought you were just being nice."

Santana breathes in as more tears threaten to leave her. "That's the most stupid thing I ever heard," she says softly, glad when Brittany smiles instead of frowns. "That doesn't even make any sense. You're—you're it. You're—you're my girl. You're everything."

"I know that," Brittany says and she strokes their noses together, her hand curled comfortably around Santana's jaw. "I know that now," she sighs. "But if we really think about it… look at where all this has got us? Do you really think that we'd be in New York if I had asked you to come back to Lima? Because I don't." Santana looks at her as she speaks. "I would probably be repeating my senior year for a second time because the minute you left was the minute I tried to get the heck out of that place. I worked so hard and we're in New York, Santana. We're in New York and we have a home and we're together and we can do whatever we want to do." She sighs and runs her thumb over the curve of Santana's jaw. "So I don't care. I don't care what we did or what happened…" She smiles and Santana watches as her eyes glow glassy. "Because we're in New York and we're together and now I know that you love me…" Her smile is happy and beautiful and knowing. "You love me and I know that you love me… I've always known that you love me… so it was worth it. It was worth it just for that."

"Britt…"

She stops when Brittany cuts her off with a kiss. "We'll get better," she whispers hurriedly. "If you're worried and scared, you don't need to be because we'll get better. We'll remember and we'll work hard and we'll be together forever."

Santana stares at her and feels her worries drift away just as quickly as they arrived. Her trust for Brittany hardens her bones and cocoons her in safety. "Promise?" she asks.

Brittany smiles at her and breathes in. "Things will be hard and at times they'll really suck," she says. "We're gonna do things that make each other mad more than once. Some days are going to be easy and some are probably going to be so hard that we'll start to hate each other. But I love you and you love me and that's not going to stop, so when you're scared, you talk to me and everything will be okay. I promise."

She's still smiling when she's done and Santana feels her own mouth curling at the corners. She pulls Brittany down for a kiss and leaves their noses pressed together, breathing in Brittany's scent for long moments before she kisses her quickly.

"You're the smartest person I know," she whispers.

Brittany's proud grin presses to her lips.

/

It's half dark the next time she wakes up and she honestly can't remember falling asleep. She's sure that one minute they were kissing and that's it. She can't remember anything but warm comfort and soft skin.

And that's probably why she's awake now because she doesn't feel that anymore. Her eyes struggle to open and her arms stretch out to the side. She doesn't understand how she's laying on her front and it's not until she reaches to the edge of the bed and finds a firm hip that things start making sense again.

A groan rumbles up her throat and her arms reach up to stretch above her head.

"Hey," Brittany whispers and Santana squints up at her until Brittany reaches over to the nightstand and grabs her glasses. She pushes them onto Santana's nose and Santana smiles when she can clearly see blue eyes looking back at her. It's also the first time she realizes how dark it is.

"Hi," she whispers. "What time is it?"

Brittany turns to her from where she sits at the edge of the bed. "It's six o'clock. We slept late."

Santana nods and shuffles across the bed until she can rest her head on Brittany's knee. "How long have you been awake?"

Brittany giggles and strokes her hair. "About ten minutes. I woke up because I needed the bathroom. The minute I rolled off you, you rolled after me…" Santana groans lowly in embarrassment. Brittany pushes the hair away from her face. "It was really cute."

Santana snuggles into her touches and smiles a lazy, sleepy smile. The bed is still warm and Brittany is still nearby and it makes her continue to feel capable of drifting back off.

"I'm glad you're awake though," Brittany carries on. "I need you to come get me naked."

Santana's eyes instantly open and she feels the rush of blood that goes to her cheeks and much, much lower.

Brittany hums out a giggle. "Well, actually I need you to help me take this onesie off so I can go to the bathroom but it's nice to know that you're interested…"

Santana's cheeks stay red as she rolls onto her back and forces herself to sit up. She sits face to face with Brittany and it's like getting caught in a net. Their eyes flick across each other as they draw together like magnets. Brittany kisses her quickly, inhaling and smiling as soon as they pull away, and Santana thinks that she'll never be able to get used to this again.

"C'mon," Brittany whispers tugging her by the hand.

Santana can do nothing more than follow.

/

She strips Brittany of her onesie and tries her hardest not to look down. It's really hard, especially when Brittany stares at her, almost teasing her to just glance. A knowing smirk curls at her lips and when Santana stands back up after helping her untangle the fabric from her feet, she leans forward to kiss the concentration from her brow.

"You're allowed to look, you know?" she tells her amusedly.

Santana just shoots her a glare before leaving the room.

/

She returns to the bathroom a few moments later and finds Brittany brushing her teeth. Her back is on full display and she's wearing nothing but a small pair of navy blue thermal panties. They cover her ass but not much else and Santana lingers in the doorway to stare for a minute. Brittany's splint tucks her arm uncomfortably against her body. The bruises that cover her backside and thighs have already turned a miserable shade darker. The bandage around Brittany's other elbow hangs loose around her arm and, somewhere, at the back of Santana's cloudy brain, she tries to remember to fix it at some point.

"Have you taken another pain pill?" She asks as way of alerting her presence after way too many minutes staring.

Brittany barely reacts, too busy shoving her face into the mirror so that she can see her teeth. She shakes her head and Santana can't help but watch as she pushes up onto her toes to see better. She's never loved their too-high bathroom mirror more. Her eyes drop to Brittany's ass and lower, watching as the muscles in her calves flex and tense. She loves her skinny ankles, the backs of her funny knees and how her toes are painted in alternate coats of glittery red and green.

There are blue eyes watching her in the mirror when her gaze finally ventures up the rest of Brittany's body. She's too cloudy-headed to find it in her to care that she's been caught.

"Perve," Brittany mutters and Santana still doesn't bother to look away, not until Brittany spits out what's in her mouth and spins around. Her eyes drop to the rest of Brittany's half-naked body. Hickeys still coat her shoulders and her neck. There's one mere millimeters away from her right nipple and another cloaking Santana's favorite freckle on her stomach. She swallows as the same heavy feeling she felt the first time she saw Brittany like this settles into her pelvis.

She's fucking perfect.

"I brought you some fresh clothes," she stutters instead of saying the things that whirl around her head.

Except Brittany must be able to tell there's something else as she smirks and steps closer. Her hand reaches for Santana and Santana doesn't fight it when she spins her around and presses her into the counter. She kisses her desperately, her bare thighs pressing against Santana's own, familiarly warm and brilliant as her hand drifts up Santana's shirt. She nips at Santana's bottom lip and Santana groans brokenly in frustration. Her hands squeeze at Brittany's waist and the urge to just lift her onto the counter and fuck her here is so overwhelming that it actually makes her feel numb.

She bites back into Brittany's kiss until they're desperate and panting and almost at the point where there's no going back on what happens next.

It's too much too soon and one of her hands is down the back of Brittany's underwear when she eventually realizes that they need to stop. The other is deliciously cupping Brittany's breast, her thumb stroking gently over a sensitive nipple while her tongue dips into the hollow between Brittany's collar bones.

Brittany's hand hasn't moved from her back but she's warm and sweaty already, moaning deep and brokenly into Santana's ear and right now that's better than anything else.

It hits Santana right between the thighs and she knows that she has to finish this before her resolve to wait wears out.

She kisses her way back up Brittany's throat before pecking a kiss to her lips and pressing their foreheads together. Brittany surges forward to kiss her again but Santana pulls back, shaking her head quickly to stop her.

"No, no more," she pants. "Not yet."

Brittany pouts. "You suck," she says breathlessly. "You really suck, you know that?"

Santana smirks and is too aware that her own hands haven't moved. Her hand is still squeezing at Brittany's ass and her thumb is still stroking gently enough over Brittany's nipple that her eyes keep fluttering.

"I don't," she whispers, stroking their noses together. "Because if I did… you wouldn't be complaining…"

She punctuates the words with a quick kiss and is glad to hear Brittany groan when she pulls her hands away and reaches around to find the clothes she doesn't remember dropping to the floor.

"Tease," Brittany sighs.

Santana smirks and leans back in to kiss her softly this time.

"I sure am," she says. "But I'm a nice tease. You know why?" Brittany shakes her head. "Because after I've helped you get washed up and put you in nice clean clothes, I'm gonna shower then I'm going to put on whatever movie you want, make you whatever you want to eat, check your bandages and then I'm gonna spend the rest of the evening snuggling you on the couch."

Brittany looks at her dubiously. Santana smirks.

"Does that sound good enough?" she carries on.

Brittany looks her up and down. "I don't know," she says. "It depends."

"On what?" Santana asks carefully, her own eyes narrowing.

Brittany eyes her, a smirk tugging at the corner of her mouth no matter how serious she's trying to be. It doesn't matter; Santana already knows that it's gonna mean mischief.

Brittany rests her one good hand on her hip and closes an eye in feigned thought.

"Can I watch you shower?" she asks innocently.

Santana doesn't even have to pause before she rolls her eyes and releases a sigh.

"Sure," she relents quickly. "Why not?"

/

She learns why not half an hour later when she has to push her own damp, naked body from Brittany's lap. She doesn't even know how it happened, just that she stepped from the shower one minute only to have Brittany cupping her breast and sucking at her neck the next.

She pushes herself away and retreats to the bedroom to stop herself from doing anything else and is wearing clean underwear and rifling through her drawers for something to wear when Brittany finally comes to find her.

"Remind me why we can't again?" she asks as she collapses back onto the bed. She reaches for her pills and takes one with the glass of water on the nightstand.

Santana continues to rifle through the drawers and doesn't look at her as she speaks. "I don't know," she says quietly, nervously, because if she's honest, she does know why she's so reluctant to let it happen. She has many reasons and while Brittany is hurt, that's not why she isn't jumping her but that's the easiest reason to admit. "I don't want to hurt you, Britt. And it's been less than twenty-four hours since we… ya know?"

And that's where she stops because she doesn't know. She doesn't know what they are or what last night was. They've had so many times like this, where they profess their feelings and stuff happens between them but they don't label it. And sure, labeling it isn't everything because they're together, but it would be nice. It'd be nice to be sure and to not have to worry about it from the very beginning.

"…got back together?" Brittany asks tentatively, getting her answer when Santana stops what she's doing and lowers her expression. It doesn't take long for Brittany to be off the bed and behind her, her good arm wrapped around Santana's waist while her nose buries into the wet hair behind Santana's ear. It softens her instantly and Brittany uses her smallest, most careful voice when she speaks. Santana loves how Brittany knows her. "I'm yours again, right?'

The words fill Santana with relief, panic draining from her muscles as she nods her head and leans back into Brittany's body. Fear quickly drains away and she feels silly, all of a sudden. She feels ridiculous and stupid because she doesn't think she'll ever stop feeling scared about things like this. She'll never be able to stop questioning everything and acting weird. She's sure that they'll have been married twenty years before she'll believe that Brittany's her wife.

"Then what's the matter?" Brittany asks gently. Her fingers stroke over Santana's stomach until Santana reaches up to lock their fingers together across her torso.

"I don't know," Santana shrugs but a nudge in the ear from Brittany's nose relaxes her. Her mouth opens to speak before she can even think about what she's saying. "I just thought that… if I was going to get you back then I'd have to work for it. I thought that I'd have to take you out a few times and make you dinner and spend a while snuggling on the couch before we got down to the dirty, ya know?"

Brittany giggles. "Honey, we already got down to the dirty," she reminds her, her mouth buried in Santana's ear so that her words are low and throaty. "And I don't really care about dinner and all that stuff…" She turns Santana in her arms and smiles at her fondly. "But if that will make you more comfortable… we can do that… You can take me out if you really have to…"

Santana smiles, big and bold and happy. "Really?"

"Really, really," Brittany nods, smiling in a way that makes Santana feel loved.

Brittany's arm wraps around her waist and tugs her closer, their cheeks pressing together warmly as Brittany holds her. A soft, content sigh tickles against Santana's cheek and Brittany's body curls around her. A nose buries into her hair and breathes in deeply, smelling her and taking her in. It's warm—too warm—and Santana's eyes flutter at the feel of all of it. She wraps her own arms around Brittany because she doesn't want that feeling to ever go away.

"I know I sound like I'm desperate to get into your pants," Brittany starts and her voice is too low and serious for Santana to smile so she just listens instead. "But I don't need you to try and convince me anymore, okay? I don't want to have to go through what we went through all over again with the dating and the… confusion. I meant what I said…" she breathes and Santana's sure that she's trying not to cry. "I've had all of you and I don't want anything less… so if you have to take me out, take me out, but please don't withhold anything from me. This isn't new. It isn't…" Santana clutches her closer as she trails off. "You don't have to be worried that you're going to scare me, okay?"

Santana nods and holds Brittany tighter. Brittany kisses the side of her head, the curve of her ear before lingering at her cheek. Santana sighs and strokes her fingers over the fabric of Brittany's shirt, loving how she can feel the warmth underneath against her skin.

"Are you hungry?" she finally asks.

Brittany doesn't move away from her, just lets her press their bodies together. "Why?"

Santana shrugs and reaches up to brush Brittany's hair away from her eyes. It's still damp and drying into subtle waves. Santana pauses to strokes her fingers over it, twisting a lock of it around her finger before watching it fall into a perfect curl.

"Because you must be," she finally says, low and preoccupied. "Can you even remember the last time you ate?" Brittany shakes her head softly and Santana clicks her tongue. "I made all that macaroni cheese," she says after a while. "I can put it in the oven and heat it up, if you want. The bread might be a little stale but I could make it into garlic bread or something. I could dry my hair and get dressed and then do it. We could snuggle up on the couch and just be lazy." She shrugs and finally looks at Brittany when Brittany presses their noses together. "I could make you hot chocolate… with marshmallows. "

Brittany doesn't answer her. She just stares at her with soft, glassy eyes and pink cheeks. She studies Santana's face and, years ago, back when she was scared, this used to be the worst thing for Santana. She always felt like Brittany could see straight through her and know everything. Right now, it's welcome. She likes that Brittany can see her nerves and her overwhelming happiness.

The "we don't have to if you don't want to" slips from her mouth almost out of habit.

Brittany shakes her head and turns her head to kiss Santana's hand. She misses and kisses the pulse on her wrist instead. It beats fast and slow at the same time and Brittany leaves her lips there for a second before she speaks.

"No, no…" she says. "I want the mac and cheese. I missed your mac and cheese."

Santana's smile grows slowly and Brittany looks at her in that same knowing way. She lets her hand fall to Brittany's shoulder and doesn't stop Brittany when she leans forward to nudge their noses together.

"I'm gonna go watch TV," Brittany says and, when she kisses Santana's temple before leaving, it feels like any normal day two years ago.

Except it's nothing like two years ago.

It's better.

/

She forgoes a bra and just pulls on one of her thick plaid shirts over a grey t-shirt. She dries her hair into its natural thick curls before piling it atop her head to keep it out of her way. She doesn't bother with pants, just pulls on some sleep shorts and some thick wool socks that come to her mid-calf to keep her warm.

She grabs Brittany's sling, her medication and everything else she left behind before almost forgetting her own glasses. She pushes them up her nose and walks out into the living room to find Brittany still trying to put something on the TV. She barely notices Santana as she walks past to set her things down on the coffee table. She's too busy trying to open a DVD case and Santana just smiles and leaves her, heading for the kitchen.

She gets the pan of mac and cheese from the fridge and puts it into the oven. She checks the bread she bought and it's a little stale but she knows she has some leftover garlic butter from the last time she made garlic bread. She smothers the bread in it before finding another pan.

Bored and hungry and with little else to do for a while, she grabs one of the packs of marshmallows she bought and wanders back into the living room. Brittany's managed to get the case open and she sits in front of the TV, cross-legged and concentrating on getting the disk from the case.

Santana doesn't speak, just moves to sit on the coffee table behind her. Her feet press against Brittany's thighs and it catches her attention. Her back straightens and she tilts her head back until it hits Santana's knees.

Santana just takes out a marshmallow and offers it to her. Brittany opens her mouth and chews it slowly, staring up at Santana in silence as Santana eats her own.

"You need some help?" she asks and Brittany shakes her head. Santana gives her another marshmallow and she holds it between her teeth before leaning forward and getting back to her task. The stubbornness makes Santana smile and she sets the bag aside and reaches for Brittany's sling.

Brittany groans lowly when Santana reaches forward to put it on her.

"You have to wear it," Santana tells her. "Or you'll never get better."

"I hate it," Brittany says, laughing in triumph when the disk pops out into her hands. "Take that, bitch," she mutters.

"So charming," Santana teases and waits for Brittany to put the disk in the player and grab the remote.

It's then that she pauses and Santana waits knowingly, watching her as she looks around, trying to figure out how to get up without the support of her hands. She looks completely lost for a while and it upsets Santana to see her so confused until Brittany turns around and looks at her helplessly.

"C'mon," Santana instantly says, slipping her hands underneath Brittany's shoulders and holding her tightly. "On three," she says. "One, two… three…"

Brittany stands with a groan and a wince and lets Santana inspect her once they're both on their feet. She's fine but Santana gives her a look that Brittany quickly shies away from. She steps away from Santana and curls into the couch. There are no arguments when Santana quickly runs to Brittany's room and grabs the pillows from her bed. She props Brittany's arm up on them and puts them around her back.

"Come snuggle," Brittany asks quietly. Santana looks at her and it kind of kills her that she has to say no. She shakes her head but Brittany doesn't look too disappointed when she leans down to kiss her on the nose.

"Soon," she whispers and Brittany smiles.

/

It's another twenty minutes before all the food is cooked.

Brittany's already engrossed in How the Grinch Stole Christmas and Santana settles the pan of mac and cheese and the garlic bread on the coffee table before sitting down on the edge of the couch beside her. She serves out two bowls before offering one to Brittany.

Brittany just looks at her for a moment before that lost look returns to her face. She swallows and Santana just shrugs her shoulders before tapping her on the side so that she gets up and stands beside the couch. She serves a little extra into Brittany's bowl before pulling the table between the couches closer. She arranges the pillows before lying down and Brittany doesn't need any further instruction. She just walks around the couch and grabs Santana's blanket, pulling it with her as she climbs into the space between Santana's legs.

Her head instantly goes to rest on Santana's chest and she doesn't argue when she's poked and prodded and made comfortable. Santana takes off her sling and tosses it to the floor before pulling the blanket up around her and grabbing Brittany's bowl.

And it's nice. She slowly feeds Brittany her food and feels all the worries of the hospital drift away. She thinks that if she gets to spend two, four, six weeks taking care of Brittany she doesn't care about any of it. After seeing Brittany in so much pain she's glad that she can finally do something to help make Brittany feel better. She doesn't feel useless. She feels like everything Brittany needs as Brittany lies lazily across her. Her body doesn't feel tense with pain just soft, slow and relaxed. Her eyes flutter and Santana kisses the side of her head and sneaks mouthfuls from her bowl when Brittany slowly feeds herself some bread.

"Better?" she asks when Brittany's almost finished. Brittany nods and pulls the blanket up higher around her. There's a look in her eyes that tells Santana that she's not going to be awake much longer and sure enough, she shakes her head to more food a few moments later and shifts herself on her side.

She rests on her better arm and Santana rearranges the pillows again so that she's safe. She quickly eats some of her own food and before Santana's even set down her bowl, Brittany is fast asleep against her. Her broken arm lays haphazardly tucked against her body and Santana turns until she can curl into her. Her hand combs through Brittany's hair until steady breaths become low and shallow with sleep. With gently parted lips and a heavy body, Santana knows that she's comfortable, that she's not hurting.

Still, she kisses Brittany's forehead anyway.

She knows it'll help.

/

It's dark and she can hear a gentle pouring of rain from outside. The movie finished a while ago but she's too busy concentrating of the feel of Brittany sandwiched between her body and the back of the couch to care. Her hands continue to stroke over Brittany's wavy curls and to her neck where they shamelessly venture below the back of her collar to feel the softness of her skin.

Brittany's arm has somehow ventured to rest against her chest, her bandaged arm running across it so that her barely exposed fingers rest against a boob. Santana protectively lingers her own hand nearby, knowing that it'll hurt if Brittany knocks her wrist against anything.

Brittany's fingers are swollen but her ring sits proudly on her finger. Her skin puffs out from beneath the metal band and it looks like it should hurt except when Santana strokes her fingers over it, Brittany doesn't flinch. She just lets out and airy sigh and snuggles close enough that it almost feels impossible, like they're defying the laws of physics. Santana can feel Brittany against every inch of one side of her body.

The ring glitters in the half-light of the room and Santana spends her time alternating between staring at the pretty patterns it makes and the expression on Brittany's sleeping face. She strokes her fingers over Brittany's barely exposed knuckles and doesn't stop until the long fingers that extend from them begin to flex.

She waits for Brittany to wake but when she does it's not what she expects. It's not a complete stir because Brittany's eyes refuse to open. Her body twists and bends slightly but nothing else. Her head seems to push in two directions at once as it leans back into the gentle scratches Santana exerts against her scalp while snuggling more comfortably into Santana's shoulder. A low, appreciative moan rumbles up from her throat and the pinky of her swollen hand twitches for the fingers that stroke nearby. Such a request is not something Santana could ever refuse and she leans sideways to kiss Brittany's forehead as she offers up her pinky for Brittany to link with her own.

"You okay?" she whispers and smiles when Brittany is only able to shift up and bury her face in Santana's neck. Warm tufts of air release against Santana's skin and her hand curls around the base of Brittany's skull. Warm, bare legs stroke against her own in a way that's entirely too distracting as Brittany curls around her. Their fingers release sooner than expected but Santana doesn't mind as she's able to reach down and hold onto Brittany's thigh. Brittany tucks her broken arm back against her body before half rolling onto Santana.

"Be careful," Santana whispers, even as her hand strokes up and down the thigh that Brittany now has firmly wedged between her own. Her hand drifts back beneath Brittany's collar, pushing at the fabric until she can reach further underneath when another appreciative moan vibrates against her skin. "I want you as good as new."

Brittany hums again and Santana takes advantage of having her other arm free to slip it lower on Brittany's body. It withdraws from her collar and flattens against the small of Brittany's back. She listens to Brittany's sleepy breathing, waiting for the hitch in it when her fingers slip beneath loose fabric and to the warm skin underneath.

Except the hitch is actually a groan. It leaves Brittany slowly and Santana's eyes open and her mouth drops mischievously as she traces patterns across Brittany's skin. A smile forms against her neck and Santana listens as Brittany groans out a whimper of laughter.

"You're mean," Brittany finally mumbles and her voice is thick and dark and tired. While its roughness might scare some people away, it just makes Santana hold her closer.

She turns her face to kiss the side of Brittany's head and lets her fingers press more firmly into her skin. "Do you want me to stop?" she asks, knowingly.

"No," Brittany mumbles. Her nose nuzzles into Santana's neck before she stills and sighs. "I like it," she breathes. "Feels good. Different."

"Different?" Santana asks, her brow narrowing. "Different how?"

Brittany breathes in and Santana can tell that she's getting sleepy again. She knows that she should let her rest but she kind of doesn't want to. Her index finger traces the line of Brittany's spine, knowing it will catch her attention.

"Just different," Brittany says as her back arches slightly. "Good different. Like my whole body can feel it and not just that one part. Like all my nerve endings can tell that it's you touching me. It's nice. It feels all electric and magical."

"Did you take another pain pill?" Santana teases. "You sound all dopey."

"Fuck you," Brittany says and Santana isn't ready for Brittany's cursing, or for how she pulls back and shifts upwards. They suddenly become face to face and their noses stroke together because of their proximity. Santana shuts up and stares into sleepy blue eyes, waiting for what comes next. All she can really register is Brittany's nearness and how her thigh has shifted enough that there's just the right amount of pressure. Brittany must be able to tell because she smiles knowingly. "I was trying to be cute."

Santana stares at her for a few minutes before deciding what to say. "You are cute," she says lowly. "So cute. But, you know, I think New York might have made you a little bit mean, sweary pants."

Brittany's mouth falls into a lazy smile. "Do you hate it?" she asks.

The question makes Santana laugh and she shakes her head as she chuckles out a "no".

Her hands finds its way up Brittany's back, fabric riding up until she can find all the skin she couldn't reach before. Her fingers stroke softly, habitually, and Brittany's eyes flutter as Santana speaks.

"It's kinda hot, actually," she says, loving the way Brittany's mouth quirks up at the corners. "You should use your meanness more often."

"Yeah?"

"Mhmm," Santana nods. Her hand creeps up Brittany's bare thigh to the edge of her underwear and stops. "I think you should use it on that homeless homophobic guy who's always outside of the bar. Give him a piece of your mind."

Brittany giggles. "Maybe I will."

"You should," Santana mumbles as one finger hooks beneath Brittany's panty line and strokes underneath.

Brittany's eyes instantly dart down to look at Santana's lips before darting back up to her eyes. "Why? What are you gonna do about it?"

Another finger pushes beneath her panty line and Santana watches Brittany when her fingers begin slowly tracing the edges. This time, when her eyes dart down to Santana's mouth, they don't look away. Her hips noticeably shift and before Santana can anticipate it, Brittany's mouth is descending onto her own.

Lips suck on her bottom lip and it wipes the smile from Santana's face. Brittany's mouth is deliciously wet and sleep-warm. Weirdly, Santana can still taste the sugar of the marshmallows and, somewhere deeper, Brittany's toothpaste. Her hand crawls upwards until it can grab at Brittany's neck, keeping her in place as she tries to taste more. Her tongue delves into Brittany's mouth, relentless and not at all charming. It doesn't seem to bother Brittany; she sucks the tongue into her mouth and moans from the back of her throat. The thigh between Santana's shifts even further upwards and more of Santana's fingers disappear beneath Brittany's panty line to guide the pressure pressed deliciously against her.

Santana finds herself biting into the kiss, her teeth nipping against Brittany's lips and chin in the moments when Brittany barely pulls back to pant into her mouth. It's the kind of kiss that Santana really missed. It's a kiss that starts for the sake of kissing. It's the kind of kiss that they would have before anything else happened between them. They usually happened at parties or during after school sessions in Brittany's room. It's the kind of kiss they used to share when they could hear Brittany's sister moving around in the hallway outside her old bedroom… except they're not scared of getting caught or of somebody knocking on the door anymore. It's a kiss that shows no sign of an ending and promises nothing more.

That's why Santana doesn't whine when Brittany removes the thigh from between her legs—at least not out loud—she just keeps kissing her and makes sure that her hand remains on Brittany's ass when that thigh throws itself across her body to straddle her.

Brittany forces herself to sit up and Santana follows, kissing her even when Brittany struggles to return it. She guides Brittany's mouth with the hand on the back of Brittany's neck and lets her kisses drift to her jaw when Brittany can barely breathe.

"I hate not being able to hold you," Brittany gasps into her mouth. The fingers of her good hand reach up to stroke over the features of Santana's face and it makes Santana melt, just having Brittany's fingertips fluttering along her cheekbones and over her eyebrows. "I hate it."

"You can hold me," Santana tries to console her, kissing Brittany's thumb as it brushes over her top lip. Her voice is heavy and labored to match her breathing.

She lets Brittany's thumb explore her face as she tries to calm herself down. Blue eyes stare at her and Santana feels a million things from sadness to lust. She pulls Brittany closer and, when it forces their bodies to be flush together, all she feels is relief.

"I can't…" Brittany says and her voice is a whimper, a hiccup almost. She presses their noses together and sighs woefully. "Not how I want to, anyway."

Santana's sadness overcomes her lust at the sight of Brittany's expression. She looks lost and a little scared. Her jaw quivers and Santana removes her hands from Brittany's body to cup her cheeks. She brings Brittany towards her and, for a minute, everything is all hands and faces and closeness. Brittany looks at her softly and all it takes is a kiss to the nose to free the words that Brittany's reluctant to speak.

"I lost you and I didn't think I was going to get you back but now I have," she whispers hurriedly. "And there's just something about being like this with you again that's just really making me want to hold you and perhaps never let you go ever again?" She laughs at her own words. Santana just presses their noses together and watches her until the laugh stops and her smile falls. "Sorry," she whispers. "I'm being silly."

Santana shakes her head. "No," she breathes. "No you're not… I want to do that too."

Her words allow Brittany's furrowed brow to relax. Santana kisses her but pulls away a few moments later. It makes Brittany relax and she looks confused when Santana taps her thigh to get her to stand up. She stands beside the couch with the blanket wrapped around her as Santana moves around the living room. She turns off the DVD and turns the TV onto some show that she doesn't even pay attention to. She puts the remote on the coffee table and rearranges the pillows again. Brittany doesn't put up a fight when Santana guides her to lie back on the couch. She just narrows her gaze in confusions and stares up at her, a sigh of relief leaving her slowly when Santana straddles her hips and pulls the blanket over them.

She presses their bodies together and loves that Brittany just breathes out distractedly and raises her broken arm to let Santana press against her. She rests it against Santana's back and lets her good arm curl around Santana's waist. The blanket falls but Santana pulls it back up, her hands curling beneath Brittany's neck as Brittany's arms situate themselves comfortably around her body.

"Better?" Santana whispers in her ear, even as Brittany's legs shift against hers, forcing them between strong thighs as Brittany locks her ankles at the back of Santana's knees. Brittany nods in approval and before Santana can say anything else, Brittany's kissing her again.

A tongue instantly invades her mouth and Santana moans around the smile that instantly graces her lips. Her hips push down until Brittany groans and she rests on one elbow as her hand buries itself in Brittany's messy hair. The other instantly returns to its place on Brittany's ass, fingers slipping back beneath her panty line without a thought.

A hand grabs frantically at the fabric of her shirt and Santana keeps kissing Brittany as she fights her way to get beneath the cotton. Brittany's breath pants from her harshly and Santana likes it. Brittany has never been this way with her, so brazenly and obviously desperate. Santana can feel the quivering threat of her control ready to be lost as she touches her skin. Her softest touches make Brittany shake and Santana pulls back because she wants to do things right this time.

Brittany grunts in annoyance but blue eyes flutter and look up at her regardless.

Santana feels her own eyes brighten at the sight of them and she cups Brittany's face, stroking her cheek for endless moments of admiration before she speaks.

"Can I take you out for dinner?" she asks quietly.

Brittany swallows and looks at her slowly, like she wants to say no and skip straight to some other stuff that will undoubtedly be more fun. Still, this is what she wants. She wants to stare at Brittany over the flickering slow burn of a candle. She wants to watch Brittany order shrimp and eat too much of the bread. She wants to see her eyes soften from excitement to warm and comfortable contentment. She misses taking Brittany's hand across the tabletop and watching how Brittany would always rest her head in her other hand before tilting her head and staring at her like she was the best thing in the world.

And Brittany must be able to see that because, instead of ignoring Santana and surging up to kiss her, she just swallows slowly and blinks to clear her vision.

"When?" she asks.

Santana bites her lip and thinks. She swoops down to kiss Brittany's nose before speaking. "Tomorrow?" she says before shaking her head. "No—Friday. Tomorrow we're gonna move all your stuff into my room."

Brittany's eyebrows jump halfway up her forehead and her parted, breathless lips curl into a smile.

"Really?"

Santana nods and kisses her again. "Yup," she says and untangles herself from Brittany's body so she can jump to her feet. "So we better get to bed because we've got a lot of work to do tomorrow."

She hears Brittany's groan all the way from the kitchen.

/

Brittany's already in bed and giving her the stink eye by the time she gets to their bedroom.

Santana isn't shocked; she expected it from the minute she stepped out of the kitchen and found the living room empty. She tidied away the leftover food and cleaned the kitchen. She purposefully took as long as she possibly could knowing that if she saw Brittany's pout that she'd either laugh or give in.

Seeing her now, with a tiny smidge of toothpaste on her bottom lip and her blond hair littered over the pillow, she still isn't quite sure.

She just sets down the glass of water on her bedside table before tossing Brittany's left behind pillows onto the bed next to her. It makes her smile inwardly when Brittany grabs them and tucks her body around them. She breathes in grumpily and doesn't look at Santana as Santana removes her plaid shirt and tosses it onto the chair in the corner of the room before leaving again.

Brittany's pout is still in full force when she returns with Brittany's medication and some socks in her hands. It grows when Santana sits down on the edge of the bed and pops open the lid of her painkillers.

"Take one," she instructs, still trying not to smile. Brittany does as she's told and rolls onto her back so that Santana can drop the pill into her mouth. Santana hands her the water and she sips from it slowly before Santana holds up the socks in her hand. "It's cold so I brought you some socks. Would you like me to put them on for you?"

Brittany just looks at her and a furrowed brow joins her pout. "You suck," she says petulantly.

Santana still refuses to smile. "That's nice, my love," she says regardless. "But would you like me to put your socks on so your feet don't get cold?"

Brittany's pout begins to lessen but her furrowed brow stays adamantly where it is. Santana leans over and kisses it gently, using her thumbs to reach up and smooth out the wrinkles until Brittany sighs and nods.

"Yes, please," she relents.

Her feet are freezing when Santana uncovers them from beneath the covers. Brittany has the blanket cuddled under her breasts and Santana smoothes it over her body before she quickly makes work of pulling the socks onto Brittany's icy feet. Brittany instantly rubs them together, soaking in the warmth they bring, as Santana returns the covers over her body. Her eyes instantly begin to flutter in exhaustion and Santana watches her as she closes the drapes and turns out the lights.

"Do I still suck?" Santana whispers as she climbs into the empty space beside Brittany and rests a palm on her waist.

Brittany just groans, her good hand reaching from beneath her body to tug Santana's hand until it's wrapped around her. Santana allows the first giggle to leave her then, letting it bloom as warm air against Brittany's ear. She molds herself to Brittany's body, pushing her leg between Brittany's until they're tangled up in each other. She kisses the back of Brittany's neck and leaves her lips there as Brittany cuddles the arm Santana has wrapped beneath her breasts.

"Shut up," Brittany mumbles but it just makes Santana giggle more.

She kisses Brittany's ear and sighs happily. "I love you," she whispers and it feels good to say that so freely. It feels good to feel Brittany's chest expand with happiness as she breathes in slowly at the admission. Her entire body feels softer and Santana curls into it easily. It takes her everything not to scream with joy that this will be how she falls asleep for the rest of her life.

"I love you, too," Brittany whispers easily in return.

And that is the sweetest thing.

/

The sun is peeking in from beneath the drapes when Santana wakes up.

Brittany doesn't stir when Santana untangles herself from her body and pulls the covers more comfortably around her. She just lets out a sleepy nonsensical mumble and buries her face into the pillow. It makes Santana smile and it feels nice. She's lighter on her feet as she gathers fresh clothes from her dresser and heads for the bathroom. She practically dances.

She's showered and dressed in a t-shirt and sweats when she emerges from the bathroom. She peeks in to find Brittany still fast asleep and doesn't hesitate to switch on some morning cartoons and head for the kitchen.

She makes Brittany French toast and bacon, setting it out on their kitchen table. She moves around the apartment, opening drapes and tidying things away while she waits for a fresh pot of coffee to brew. She hopes that it might wake Brittany up but it ends up just sitting hot on the counter as Santana continues to wait.

And while she knows that she should let Brittany rest her aching body, she kind of wants her to wake up. She's excited because ever since she mentioned it last night, she really wants to move Brittany's stuff, to make the apartment theirs together instead of separate. She wants to mix their books and DVDs and to jumble their clothes together in her dresser. It's all she's wanted for longer than she can remember and the fact that she gets to do those things today is a little overwhelming.

So she steps back into their bedroom and climbs up the bed until she's half hovered over Brittany. She leans down to press kisses over her hairline, tickling them softly over the skin until Brittany shuffles away. Her hair falls into her face and Santana pushes it away gently, whispering quiet little words to her that don't really make any sense. Her kisses turn into nuzzles and she's whispering Brittany's name against bed-warm cheeks when she finally stirs.

"Sleepy," she whispers and Santana giggles slightly before curling around Brittany's body over the covers.

"But it's morning," she whispers happily. She's sure that she sees Brittany smile at her enthusiasm. "C'mon, I made breakfast. You need to come eat it before it gets cold and then we can move all your stuff."

Brittany grumbles but Santana feels her start to shift onto her back in a telltale sign that she's waking up. Santana instantly leans over to kiss the pillow creases etched into her face, her thumb reaching up to stroke them out of her skin. Brittany swallows and licks her lips, struggling to open her eyes as she looks up at Santana.

"I hate to break it to you, honey," she mutters tiredly. "But I'm kind of incapacitated."

Santana giggles but kisses Brittany's cheek sympathetically anyway. "I know," she says. "But you're not going to be doing the moving. You're going to help me sort through all your stuff."

Brittany hums, her hand coming up to grip at the front of Santana's shirt before it deftly disappears underneath and strokes over her stomach. "That doesn't sound like a fun way to spend the day."

Santana's stomach muscles clench and twitch at the feel of Brittany's soft fingertips and she tries her hardest not to let Brittany's hand go any further. She reaches up to lay her hand over Brittany's knuckles to keep her still and Brittany pouts but doesn't do anything else.

"C'mon, horndog," she whispers, kissing Brittany quickly before getting up. "Come eat breakfast and maybe we'll have enough time to sneak in a few breaks."

Her tone doesn't go unnoticed and Brittany's eyes open and cloud over at the suggestions it makes. Santana walks towards the door and turns when she gets there. Brittany's eyes are firmly planted on her ass when she turns and when Brittany doesn't look up, Santana knows that wherever she is in her head is a million times more fun than reality.

It takes her a few moments but eventually she swallows thickly. "Promise?" she says.

Santana grins.

"I'll think about it."

/

It occurs to her, sometime after their fourth half hour break in three hours, that she's never going to be able to say no to Brittany for long—if at all.

She pushes herself off of Brittany's body with a frustrated moan and forces herself to move back to Brittany's closet as she tugs her shirt back down over her curves. It makes Brittany groan out a giggle and when she glances back, Brittany's licking her bottom lip and staring up at the ceiling.

It takes Santana everything not to just climb back on top of her.

"How about these?" she says, changing the subject quickly and getting back to their task. What was once Brittany's empty laundry basket is now full up with clothes that will soon move into Santana's dresser except it's been three hours and they're not even half way through Brittany's mountains of clothes.

And Santana thought she was bad.

"They're summer clothes," Brittany says, comfortably shifting her broken arm above her head as Tubbs climbs into her lap. She strokes him boredly, looking at Santana with a half-smile teasing at the corners of her mouth. If Santana had to guess, she'd say that Brittany was the best kind of happy right now. "They should stay in here until it warms up."

Santana nods and puts the item into the emptied out drawers before moving onto the next. "What about sweats? I'm guessing all sweats are going into the other dresser."

Brittany nods. "That way we can share and you don't have to keep rotating the three pairs you own."

"Okay," Santana nods around a laugh, throwing in all of Brittany's sweats before holding up a pile of her t-shirts covered in random animal pictures and sayings. "Guessing these are going too?"

Brittany nods. "And the plaid."

"Shit, we're such legit cohabitating lady lovers," Santana giggles. "Sharing our plaid."

Brittany chuckles and gives her the best kind of coy grin. "You look good in plaid," she says. "Especially when it's all you're wearing."

The urge to get up and crawl atop her is almost overwhelming. She holds back in favor of tossing more of Brittany's clothes into the empty laundry basket.

"You're bad," she whispers. It makes Brittany release a warm, honey-thick giggle that Santana's used to hearing in hotter, sweatier circumstances.

She bites her bottom lip and Santana has to shake her head and look away.

"Got to get my kicks somehow," Brittany murmurs.

The urge doesn't go away.

They take another thirty-minute break five minutes later.

/

It's almost eight o'clock by the time everything is reorganized. Santana wipes her brow as she finishes putting everything in its new place, listening out for Brittany as she splashes around in the bathtub.

She hefts the last of Brittany's schoolbooks onto the tall sideboard in the corner and, as she looks at it, she's pretty sure that it's supposed to be displaying their best china dinner set but instead it's covered in books and records. The record player they found when Britt first moved to New York sits pride of place on the middle shelf. Brittany's black portfolio rests alongside all her other books and there's something about it being there that unsettles Santana. She wants pictures of the two of them to surround them. There's only a few glee club portraits, and some pictures of their family that cover their bookcase. The random, goofy shots they took of each other during the summer still litter the room but they look awkward. None of them match each other and they don't show off Brittany's real talent. She needs more of Brittany's beautiful photographs displayed proudly around their home where everyone can see them.

"We should go to Target," she calls out to Brittany as she stands in the middle of the living room with her hands on her hips.

She hears the wash of the water hitting Brittany's body and waits for her response. "For what? Surely you must have already purchased your yearly quota," she teases. "Don't think I didn't notice those new sheets."

Santana rolls her eyes, ignoring Brittany and the bloom of excitement that fills her stomach as she continues to look around the apartment. "We need more photo frames. And maybe like… some more storage or something because we have way more stuff than I thought we did. Maybe we should throw some stuff out?" She pauses and scratches under her chin. "Maybe we should get some new cushions for the couches too? It looks kind of boring in here…" She pauses and hums in thought. "Maybe I should move all your fancy photography books to the coffee table and make us look like those hipster bitches with their coffee table books piled in the middle."

She waits for a response but all she gets is a bright, flourishing giggle. It makes her stop and she steps over to the bathroom, shoulder resting against the doorjamb as she peers in. Brittany has her eyes closed as she reclines back as best she can in the small space. Her face tilts towards the ceiling and Santana admires the slope of her neck as it slips into the curve of her breast before her naked skin disappears into the bubbly water.

"What?" she eventually asks and Brittany barely reacts other than to open her eyes and offer her a glance. Her smile grows and Santana shifts awkwardly as she waits for her to speak.

"It's nothing," Brittany says and her voice is soft and relaxed. Her eyes stay closed but her smile never falters. Santana's noticed this ever-present glow in her cheeks since they woke up. "I just never expected you to be like this."

"Like what?"

Brittany shrugs and her eyes open then, head lulling to the side as she turns to look at Santana. "A homebody, I guess? I didn't expect for you to care if our coffee table looks boring or what couch cushions we have all of a sudden. I mean, when your mom decorated your room, your only preference was that everything be dark. You bought the cheapest paint you could find for this place and everything is used…"

The words make Santana blush slightly and she shrugs, moving into the bathroom. She perches on the side of the bath, instantly jealous of the warmth that radiates up from the water. She strokes a hand over Brittany's bicep before shrugging.

"I don't know," she says. "I guess it's because things are different now, you know? I didn't want it to matter before, I think. I bought the cheap paint because I didn't want you to think that it was important. I don't think that I wanted it to seem like we were making a life together because we weren't together-together. We weren't making a home, I guess?" Her face furrows as she explains herself. "But now it's all different because we are. This is our home together and I feel like it should reflect us together instead of being an unattached mess of the both of us."

Brittany's fingers reach to stroke at her hip beneath her t-shirt and she stares at Santana with uncontained fondness. Her eyes sparkle, her smile falters, and she shakes her head like she can't believe what just came out of Santana mouth. Santana reddens and lets her hand curl around Brittany's arm as damp fingers toy with her waistband.

"Get in with me," Brittany whispers. The words take Santana aback and she's ready to remind Brittany that they shouldn't yet. She never gets the chance to because Brittany shakes her head and laughs. "Get in with me," she demands. "I promise I won't try anything."

And Santana doesn't know what it is, if it's the look in her eyes or something else, but she stands up and reaches for the hem of her shirt, lifting it over her head before stripping herself of her sweatpants and underwear. Brittany sits up and Santana quickly slips into the bath in front of her, resting against her body with a comforted sigh. It sucks that Brittany can't hold her as her arms rest on the sides of the tub to stay dry but it makes her feel better about being naked together. She rests her head against Brittany's shoulder and loves how Brittany nuzzles into her. Santana reaches to hold the fingers of Brittany's good hand and likes how Brittany instantly turns her palm over to start tracing shapes into the skin.

"You are going to be the best wife," Brittany whispers and Santana's breath catches when she hears the hitch in Brittany's voice. Brittany's mouth presses behind her ear and it makes her sigh, makes all her worries disappear. She's reminded once more that none of this is a dream. This is her life. "The best," Brittany repeats. "And I can't wait."

It makes Santana smile and her eyes flutter closed as she tilts her head to the side so that Brittany can nuzzle her more, her mouth tracing open shapes into the tendons in her neck until lips kiss her gently, reverently. Her other hand reaches to tangle in Brittany's hair and Brittany breathes out between kisses. She presses a long, soft kiss to Santana's neck before burying her face in the skin, just feeling the shape of Santana's body against her.

The anticipation for things bigger and better than touch are overwhelming.

"Neither can I," Santana whispers. "Neither can I."

/

She knows they shouldn't but they both sleep in nothing but clean, fresh underwear.

Brittany's body half shifts onto hers and Santana tries to ignore the way that Brittany's breasts press against her bare skin in favor of remembering the shape of Brittany's body against hers.

Brittany's newly washed, just dried hair litters over the pillow and tickles the end of Santana's nose. She strokes her hands over it to avoid pressing her hands against the bare skin of Brittany's back. All she can think about is that everything is softer than she remembers, from her hair to her skin to the way she's breathing.

She's exhausted but she stays awake listening and remembering and falling in love with the way that their hands are haloed around them on the pillow. Their fingers barely tangle together from where Brittany's are still too swollen and restricted in her bandages and it makes something bloom in Santana.

It's something that makes her think that they'll be able to deal with anything.

It's something that makes her think that they'll always find a way to love each other.

/

Brittany isn't beside her when she wakes up.

Her hands reach out to find her just like they usually do but they don't find anything. It doesn't scare her and she leaves her eyes closed as she flops onto her back. Her arms stretch out either side of her and it isn't until she feels the end of the bed dip that a smile finds its way onto her face.

It gets bigger when Brittany giggles.

"What's so funny?" she asks, leaving her eyes closed and just feeling Brittany's presence around her. The room is warm and she just feels different—safer—knowing that Brittany's here.

"Nothing's funny," Brittany says and shifts slightly. It almost feels like she's shifting away. "You're just cute, is all."

The words make Santana blush at the same time that they make her surge with affection. Regardless of how tired her eyes are, all she wants to do is look at Brittany. All she wants to do is see her face.

Her eyes flutter open and she's kind of disappointed to find that Brittany's facing away from her. She tries not to pout and instead lets her eyes follow the curves of Brittany's body from her strong shoulders to the perfect dip and curve of her waist and hips. She's still wearing the same underwear she wore last night and they rest low enough that the top of her ass is peeking out. It makes Santana smile, even as the sight of Brittany's bruises painting her pale skin like watercolour brings a furrow to her brow.

"What're you doing?" she mumbles and that's when Brittany turns to look at her. She peers over her shoulder and smiles. Her eyes are clear and sparkly. She looks like she slept well last night.

"Trying to put on socks with one hand," Brittany giggles softly, lifting up the sock in her hand to prove her point. Santana sits up and Brittany's eyes instantly flutter to her chest. She drops the socks, instantly forgetting her task before falling back onto the bed. "It's not going so well."

The urge to comment on Brittany's sudden disinterest disappears when Santana looks down at her. Her broken arm comes up to halo around her head like normal and her other hand rests on her naked stomach. As she lies back, her breasts lift to give Santana a better view of hard, pink nipples. The muscles in her abdomen are clearly defined and her underwear sits just as low at the front as it does at the back. They're almost redundant and Santana shamelessly lets her eyes dip to the lowest point. She can clearly see the tattoo there that she never knew Brittany had until two days ago when she helped Brittany to bathe after they came down from the roof. It's a tiny little rainbow and it shocked her at the same time it made her smile. She's wanted to drift her fingertips over it since.

But seeing Brittany lain out like this makes her hands subconsciously twitch and her breath catch. She's on her knees before she can even realize what she's doing, crawling over Brittany's body until she can lower her head and lingeringly kiss the colored patch of skin. And while she feels like an idiot for being so abrupt, it's totally worth it for the way that Brittany breathes in sharply. Her ribcage expands and the muscles tighten. Her underwear shifts lower over her pelvis and Santana presses her lips more firmly against the skin. A few inches lower and she'd be buried in the most perfect place in the world.

She feels the shaky breath that Brittany exhales vibrating against her lips. The hand resting on her stomach quivers in the air like it doesn't know whether to pull Santana closer or push her away. Santana doesn't give it a chance to decide as she kisses further up Brittany's stomach, trailing her lips over Brittany's freckles until the hand has to rest on the top of her head to stay out of the way. Fingers tangle into her hair as it trails over Brittany's body, scrunching warningly when she avoids Brittany's breasts and kisses through her cleavage. A grunt leaves her mouth and her hand presses down when Santana's chest hovers over her face. Santana lowers herself enough that Brittany can press a barely there kiss between her breasts.

She knows it isn't fair… not when her own mouth is sucking hard kisses into Brittany's skin. Brittany pants against her neck, not arguing with one of Santana's hands on her face guiding her where it wants her. It makes Santana feel cruel because she has no intentions of going further than this. She breathes out as her brain makes a decision the rest of her doesn't really like. She tilts Brittany's head back so that she can kiss up her neck, all the way up to her chin where Brittany quickly presses a kiss into her own. Their lips meet quickly and Santana lets it linger for longer than she should before continuing to trail her lips up Brittany's nose before finishing at her forehead.

Her hands remain on Brittany's face and she strokes Brittany's messy bedhead from her face as she waits for blue eyes to open. When they do, Brittany looks shocked. Her eyes are dark and rough like a storm at sea. Her parted lips continue to pant the breath that she struggles to take in. Santana can't tell if she's mad or not but she smiles anyway.

"What was that for?" Brittany asks eventually.

Santana shrugs and shamelessly leans down to kiss her again. Their lips run over each other smoothly, softly sucking at each other until one of them moans desperately. Brittany is the first one to pull back and she smiles through her breathlessness, waiting for Santana's better answer.

She shrugs and nudges their noses together.

"You're cute, is all," is the only reason she can come up with.

And when Brittany leans up to kiss her nose, she guesses it's good enough.

/

As her head falls to the side so that her cheek hits Brittany's bicep, something occurs to Santana.

"Did you still need to put your socks on?" she asks, loving how their noses are almost touching when Brittany turns her head to face her. Santana's brow pulls together as she thinks. "What were you getting up for anyway? It still feels early."

They've been lying on their backs facing opposite ends of the room for twenty minutes now. Neither of them have said anything since Santana eventually laid back down. They didn't need to. Everything felt to good for words.

"Well," Brittany says and she somehow manages to shift close enough that she can kiss Santana's chin. "I was gonna make you breakfast," she explains, her mouth pulling up slightly. "I figured that I wouldn't know if I could until I tried but when I couldn't get my socks on it was very clear that I'm kinda useless."

Santana giggles and turns onto her side until she can press her nose into Brittany's cheek.

"You're not useless," she says. "You're a really awesome pillow for a start."

"Yeah?" Brittany giggles. Santana nods and closes her eyes. Her chest flutters when Brittany bends her arm until it covers her ear. "Plus, I thought you wanted to go to Target today?"

Santana pulls back and smiles before nuzzling back in. Brittany looks at her in that same way that makes Santana feel like the universe is small but much more beautiful than she ever thought it could be. "I actually wanted to take you out for dinner today," she tells Brittany. "Target can wait."

Brittany huffs out a laugh and turns on her side so that their noses are squished together.

"If you think," she starts and struggles not to giggle. "That I'm going to be able to sit around here for another day of kissing you and holding you and watching you move without my heading exploding, then you're wrong."

Brittany's cheeks blush bright red and Santana gives her a look. Brittany giggles nervously before going on, avoiding Santana's gaze.

"I know that, like, we've already talked about this forty-thousand times in the past two days, and I know that we're waiting for the right time or whatever…" She flicks her hair back and shrugs before looking at Santana directly in the eye. "But I have never ever wanted to fuck you this badly."

Santana sucks in a slow breath at Brittany's words, her eyebrow raising as Brittany continues.

"I mean, do you not realize how beautiful you are? Do you realize what your kisses do to me?" She laughs and Santana watches her as a warm weight settles in her gut. "I think that, if we'd have never slept together the other night then maybe I wouldn't be this desperate right now. In fact, I think I'd probably be a million times more worried than you are." She swallows. "But we did sleep together and now I literally cannot handle every tiny thing that you do because it reminds me of what it's like to have sex with you." She laughs and sucks her bottom lip into her mouth before shaking her head. "Like those throaty little sounds you make or the way that your toes curl when you come. I can barely handle your breathing because it reminds me of the way that you pant my name when you're close and how you can barely say anything at all when you come. I miss the feeling of your legs wrapped around my waist and how wet you get when my fingers are inside of you. I miss the taste of you and how sweet it is mixed with your saliva when I kiss you after. I miss the way your thighs squeeze at my cheeks and how your back arches every damn time."

Santana's mouth drops open and her throat goes dry. Brittany swallows to clear her own throat before shrugging.

"And I know those are all good things but I love you and I think I get what you want because the last time we slept together was quick and fast and dirty… And I know that none of those things are bad…" A smug smile quickly graces her face before she continues. "But it was kind of ruined by what happened after… so the next time is going to be the sex that has to wipe that from history and it has to be perfect but it probably won't be when I only have like… half the use of one arm to help me." She shakes her head in annoyance before sighing. "So, I can't stay here for another day, letting you help me and touch me and dress me because I'm pretty sure it might kill me."

When she looks at Santana, Santana is dumbfounded by her words. Her throat might be dry but her mouth feels like it's watering. Everything tingles and her eyes flutter as she questions Brittany's words. There's a lot to compute and as her hand reaches up to cup Brittany's cheek, she knows that she understood most of them. Her fingers toy at the curls at the back of Brittany's neck and their lips are a hairsbreadth away from each other before she pulls back.

Brittany groans and Santana realizes that, maybe, she has a point.

"Let's go to Target," she whispers.

Brittany's sigh of relief should be offensive but it isn't.

/

No matter how many times Santana tries to convince her to take a cab, Brittany manages to get her on a bus.

It's horrible and it smells all kinds of funky, but Brittany's smiling at her as she takes her by the hand and leads her to the back. She looks kind of silly with her broken arm tucked inside her coat and the empty sleeve swinging around but it's really hard to pay attention to it when she's smiling the way she is. It's warm and happy and it almost makes Santana need to stop and take deep breaths but instead she just follows Brittany and takes the seat next to her.

She does take those deep breaths when Brittany snuggles into her and takes her hand. It makes Brittany giggle slightly and, when she looks around, Brittany's got her tongue between her teeth. Santana feels silly but then Brittany's leaning over and kissing her softly behind the ear without pulling away after.

Santana breathes out slowly because she can feel Brittany's nose against her skin, breathing her in. Her head tilts into Brittany's as though it's possessed by some otherworldly power.

She feels Brittany giggle against her ear and her eyes flutter at the sensation of it.

"You're cute," Brittany whispers before another kiss is pressed to her ear.

Santana never wants to get off.

/

She pushes the cart while Brittany one-handedly holds up all the things she likes.

It's a mismatched jumble of all the colorful, patterned and printed things Brittany usually picks, but Santana can't help but notice that she holds up all the blacks, reds and purples that she likes too. None of it matches but Santana can't really care about that when Brittany's standing behind her, chin resting on her shoulder, as she looks through photo frames.

It's too domestic, too normal—perfectly forever—and Santana just holds the frames in her hands as Brittany plans out which pictures would go in each.

They end up buying more frames than they meant to but it doesn't matter, Santana thinks.

Because right now, the only things going through her head, are all the moments they'll have to fill them with.

/

"So where are we going?"

Santana turns to Brittany, laid across the couch with Tubbs in her lap, and she's supposed to be watching TV but from the way her eyes casually scoot up from Santana's ass when she turns around says that she probably isn't.

It makes her smile and she feels less ridiculous having a hammer and nails in her hands.

"When?"

Brittany shrugs. "On our date."

Instant panic fills Santana's limbs and she freezes. "Uhhh…" she fumbles. "I don't know. I mean… I hadn't really thought about it. Where do you wanna go?" she asks. "We—we can decide and then, I mean, we might have a couple of hours to get ready if you wanna go somewhere fancy—"

"Can we go to that diner?" Brittany cuts through her. Santana just stares at her, glasses slipping down her nose. Brittany shrugs. "The one we found in the snow? I really want a burger and chili cheese fries and like… a mega milkshake."

For a second, Santana wonders if she'll ever live long enough that Brittany might stop surprising her. She doubts it and instead she says the first thing that comes to her mind.

It's not the smoothest thing she's ever said.

"You don't want shrimp?"

Brittany just shakes her head and giggles. She runs her good hand over Tubbs' back in one smooth, long, stroke. Santana can't help but watch her hands, her long fingers and her rippling knuckles.

"Been there, done that," she mumbles and the words make Santana stop.

It's in that moment that she realizes that Brittany will never stop surprising her, not if she lived for a million years.

/

Brittany takes the pictures she took of the old couple that run the diner with her.

She hands them to them when they arrive but they're more concerned about her injuries, seating them in the most comfortable booth and bringing them hot cocoa instead of coffee. When they stop asking if Brittany's okay long enough for her to hand over the pictures, they're so over the moon excited that Santana can do little else but stare at Brittany as she talks to them animatedly about how she has her own equipment and how it's her new favorite thing.

She doesn't mind and it isn't until Brittany reaches over and takes her hand that rests atop the table that she even remembers she's in the room with them.

When the old lady's eyes notice the move, it brings the same surge of panic in Santana that it used to in Ohio. She waits for the drop of her expression, the unbridled disappointment and sometimes disgust that they would get from strangers in Lima. It never comes and when the woman's smile just gets bigger and softer, it's the weirdest thing in the world.

She looks over to Brittany to see if she saw but Brittany's just grinning at Santana like her reaction is better. A thumb sweeps over the back of her knuckles and Santana doesn't know what to say. She just looks at Brittany until the old woman shakes her head and leaves them alone.

It's not until she's come back five minutes later to take their order that Santana realizes she's just sitting there staring at Brittany. She listens to Brittany order for both of them through soft laughter and isn't sure how she's supposed to react to this. She's spent too long believing that everything good is always too good to be true.

"I need you to do something," Brittany mumbles when they're alone in the corner of the room.

It wakes Santana up and she listens carefully. When her face drops in concern, Brittany giggles again, soft and airy and ridiculously beautiful. She shifts forward and Santana mirrors the movement until their knees knock together beneath the table. Brittany smiles.

"I need you to lean over this table," she whispers through her grin. "…and kiss me." Santana looks at her in amused confusion. Brittany shrugs. "Because I really need to kiss you right now and I can't."

And Santana's not sure why she looks around the diner first. There's barely anyone here and the only people looking at them are the old couple staring from the counter. She doesn't care about them. They're smiling and whispering and she knows they're not being mean. She thinks that's probably what drive, palms flattening against the tabletop until she can pull herself across the small distance so that their lips can press gently together.

Brittany giggles and presses into the kiss a few times before pulling back. Santana smiles when she eventually pulls away. A pretty blush covers Brittany's cheeks and she can't stop herself from wiping the damp from Brittany's bottom lip before cupping her cheek.

Brittany nuzzles into it before turning to press a kiss into Santana's palm. They're sat like that ten minutes later when their food comes.

The old lady doesn't say anything to either of them.

The food is almost cold by the time they get around to eating it.

/

If Santana knew that all she had to do to get Brittany to ride in a cab was to make out with her under street lamps in horrible, drizzly rain, she'd have been on her from the minute they left the apartment.

But it's not until they're full to the brim and giggling as they leave the diner that Santana realizes it. Brittany leaves the diner before her and Santana finds her a few moments later, holding her coat tighter around her neck to keep out the cold. She's looking up the street for something and Santana can't help herself. She steps up and it doesn't really matter that she's holding a paper bag of leftovers that Pearl and Gus—the owners—gave them to take home with them. She grabs Brittany by the collar and brings their lips together without pause.

Brittany's good hand drops from her coat and curls around her waist. She doesn't even jump, just lets out the best and tiniest of moans when Santana parts her lip with a warm tongue. They kiss almost indecent, their mouths working together furiously. Santana feels something inside of her change as it goes on. She no longer feels the need to pull away, to put space between them. Her tongue searches desperately for something she knows she won't find here on a sidewalk in Brooklyn, and the minute that her hand delves inside Brittany's coat, clutching at the soft curves of Brittany's body, she knows she needs to stop.

She pulls back and Brittany pants against her, mouth parted against the skin of her cheek. Arms clutch at bodies and Santana fights not to kiss Brittany as their noses nudge together teasingly.

"Cab?" she eventually asks and she's glad when Brittany nods.

Her eyes drop to Santana's lips and the way her mouth shifts just that little bit closer as she does it promises everything.

"Quickly," she whispers and doesn't have to ask twice.

/