Title: Locksmith
Rating: NC-17
Word Count: 10k
Summary: Even now, after ten years together, you still aren't in the right place and it's like you can never fit right together for too long before one of you shifts and it happens again.
Notes: I actually don't this story to end, I love re-reading and editing it. Thank you for all your comments!
/
You start running, and meditating, and doing all the shit that those hippy, healthy, social media influencers tell you to do on the YouTube clips you watch to reinvent yourself.
It's been two days since your conversation with Brittany, and Elaine, and technically Quinn and you've been running half marathons through Central Park as you try to process everything that's happened. You know you've been bettering yourself and becoming proud of the person you are and even though you're turning back into who you used to be, all the drawbacks don't seem to be coming with it and it's weird.
You're like, content within yourself and confident and not feeling at all bitchy and it could be because you quit your job yesterday, which has totally lifted all the shit off your shit off your shoulders and literally freed up your time, but it could be because you feel like you're making moves. You feel like the talk with Brittany – which you still haven't continued – hasn't fucked your head up like you thought it would, and especially after (mostly) parting ways with Elaine, all the guilt and negativity has sort of seeped away.
You're making decisions you should be proud of, and Quinn keeps texting you to check in on you and get an update, but you don't have one to give her.
The past forty-eight hours have been filled with self-preservation and focus on the next week before you fly to Vegas, and you don't know what's going to happen but there's something in the air. It's tingling at your sixth sense, the supernatural one that sits low in your gut, and you can feel it scratching away at you, so you think it's okay to run miles upon miles to distract yourself because you think you've got reason.
But soon enough, you're bent over, trying to catch your breath because you were sprinting alongside a dog that was running through the park with its owner, and the four-legged cutie beat you, but it was totally worth it, even if your lungs feel like they're on fire right now. You take a few moments sucking in the available oxygen around you and finally straighten up, spying a bench over on the pathway that overlooks one of the many ponds and take residence there, spreading out your aching limbs and stretching your arms across the back of it.
Spending all this time with yourself has actually been healthy, and you feel like you've pulled from positives from it. Instead of thinking about the dread and heartache, the pain and jealousy, everything that you've endured in the past seven months, you've been thinking about a brighter future and for some reason, it keeps pulling you back to the beginning. Like all good endings, you keep replaying happy memories of your ex that started everything and think about what could be again, if you handle it right.
You're not sure why, but as you stare out at the ducks, remembering the fascination Brittany has with them, you feel another one of the memories flood your brain and let the sun soak into your skin as you reel back over it.
/
Fourteen Years Ago
It was your first day at your new job.
You'd just started college in New York, doing all the fun first year things college kids do like frat parties and alcohol-riddled parties, but soon, funds ran low, and you decided to get a part time job at a local coffee shop. You'd seen a flyer in the dorms and called the number, meeting someone called Will who you'd soon discover was a total ass when you went for your interview, but he'd offered you a job on the spot after you commented on the Fleetwood Mac playlist playing overhead, and soon enough it was your first day.
So, there you were, on your first day, slipping into your new uniform in the back room when you met them.
You heard them first, technically. Loud laughter coming from the front of the store and when one of them snorted, you found yourself chuckling out loud as the source of the laughter – two blonde girls – swept into the locker room, the laughter swiftly stopping when they heard you joining in. You were never one to be embarrassed, nor did you give a fuck what anyone thought of you, so you just shrugged and smirked at them, letting you know you'd heard and thought it was hilarious and ridiculous.
"Told you someone was going to hear you," the tall blonde girl said, and it was the first time you looked at her and your stomach dropped out your ass.
She was fucking beautiful. Like, stop-breathing beautiful.
Both of them were attractive, like cover-of-a-magazine attractive, and you were gay as hell, and super into blondes, so it was like a dream crafted by your deepest desires. But the tall one had these bright blue eyes, narrowed and there was a smirk on her face as she leaned against the locker nearest to her, eying you up and down. Her head was cocked to the side, a perfect set of white teeth showing as she began chewing on her bottom lip and you're embarrassed to say you were staring at her, like you'd just seen the night sky for the first time.
"Who are you?" The shorter blonde asked, and it was kind of rude, so you let her see the offense on your face, and the displeased eyebrow lift you threw at her to make a point. You liked people to know exactly who they were meeting; first impressions meant everything and if you were going to work with these two, they needed to know where you stood immediately. You didn't take any shit and wouldn't take rudeness too kindly, should it be repeated.
"Santana Lopez," you replied, lifting your chin higher and folding your arms, meeting hazel eyes of the shorter blonde who quirked a brow up at your name. "Who the hell are you?"
The tall blonde giggled, her face twisting into one of the most incredible smiles you've ever seen, and you were momentarily distracted by it, until the shorter blonde scoffed and nodded her head, expression turning impressed as she bobbed her head at you. "You've got bite, I like it," she said and headed towards a locker, punching in the combination and swinging open the door before peering over her shoulder at you. "I'm Quinn," she pointed to herself, then to the other blonde who was looking you up and down, not even bothering to hide it when you met her eye again. "That's Brittany. We're casuals here. Started yesterday so we're new like you."
Brittany. The name sounded good in your head, and you wish you weren't around them so you could say it out loud, see if it rolled off the tongue just as nicely as it did inside your mind and found yourself smiling. She thought you were hot; you could tell by the way she was eying you up and down still, but it was your first day of work and it was not the appropriate time to sleep with one of your colleagues. Not the best first impression.
(Even if in any other situation, you would've at least asked her for number.)
"Welcome to hell with added caffeine," Quinn continued, throwing her shirt over her head and shrugging on her uniform before turning to you, tugging at the bottom of it as she met your eye. "Just stick with us, and you'll be fine."
You glanced at Brittany, who was opening her own locker and slipping her own uniform on and grinned when she shot you a wink to back up her friends' words before coming over to you, stopping short of you and cocked her head to the side, just staring for a long ten seconds. Ten seconds where you – for the first time – took note that she had freckles and you knew somewhere inside of you, that you'd get to count how many there were on her face.
"Nice to meet you, Santana Lopez," Brittany breathed your name slowly, a slight twang in her voice when she said your surname and it sent a shiver down your spine.
She winked again when your jaw dropped open but nothing came out in response – what was wrong with you? – amusement in her expression and moved to brush past you, reaching to grab at your forearm to pat it as she did so, but when her skin touched yours, you felt nothing but electricity. Apparently, you weren't the only one. Brittany gasped when you did and froze, twisting her neck to look back at you half over her shoulder, blue eyes slowly studying you for the longest of moments until she exhaled shakily, a slight crease in her brows like she didn't understand what the hell that was.
You didn't know either, and you didn't get the opportunity to press her on it, or even make a joke out of the way your skin was burning (but in the best way possible) beneath her palm as it rested on your forearm, or even ask her if that'd ever happened to her before – it hadn't with you – before Quinn was coughing loudly, and you were torn from the gaze, seeing the infamous eyebrow quirk from Quinn that you'd come to know very well in the future.
"Ready to work or would you like to stare at each other for a bit longer?" The other blonde quipped, arms folded across her chest and you let out a laugh, which Brittany mirrored and just like that, the moment was gone.
But little did you know, you'd have many of those moments to come.
/
Your mind is in overdrive.
You tilt your neck back, staring up at the blue sky and take in a deep breath, exhaling slowly through pursed lips as you rid the memories away, focusing on the music playing through your headphones. Thinking about the beginning isn't going to help because you know this isn't that, and you can't rewrite what's already happened. Sure, your dad told you that you could rewrite the stars, the future, because it hasn't happened yet and that's the mindset you need to continue with.
Firstly, you've got yourself a few interviews lined up for a new job, and you've got to spend the next five days preparing yourself for the reunion. All your focus is on that, or rather you want it to be when you see a flash of blonde and recognise it instantly, mind switching thoughts.
It's not Quinn however, or Brittany, and you're up on your feet, pulling the headphones free from your ears and tucking them into your running pants pocket as you wander up to a bunch of teenagers, eyes on your target.
"Yo, Beth!" You call, wiping your forehead as you start into a slow jog towards her.
The teenage snaps her head up, smiling when she sees you and mutters something to her group of friends before turning off and meeting you halfway, looking you up and down with clear disgust in her face. "You look sweaty," she states, instead of a greeting.
You roll your eyes. "At least my sweat is from exercise, bitch," you tease, reaching over and pretending to wipe a drip off her forehead but she bats your hand away, clicking her tongue.
"Shut up!" She half-screeches in a typical moany teenage way and you laugh, recoiling when she goes to punch you in the arm but misses. "I'm not sweaty," she argues through gritted teeth and peers over her shoulder, like she's checking for someone, and you follow her line of sight to a tall, dark teenager with a terrible haircut. Seems like the Fabray's have a type. "Jake is like, right over there," she whispers sharply, turning back to you with wide eyes.
You've never seen her nervous, and as much as you want to taunt her, you're trying to be this better person and decide against it. You have no idea who Jake is, but you're guessing he's her boyfriend and seeing as she speaks so highly of him, and waves as you glance over to him politely, you think that maybe the Fabray's have a physical type, but her daughter obviously has more sense. At least the kid has manners and that's more than you can say for Puckerman.
"Alright, alright… There's no sweat, so you just look dry and mediocre," you settle on, sticking your tongue out and Beth seethes at you with narrowed eyes.
"Dry and mediocre," she repeats, looking entirely unamused and tilting her head to the side, her entire body screaming with attitude. She's so much like Quinn it's scary, even the way her eyebrow quirks and eyes lingers on you and you can see there's something she wants to ask you. She did leave her friends to come over to you and as nice as that was, there's no doubt she had reason to. She has manners – Quinn ensured she was raised right – but if you know the Fabray's, you know that there's always another reason hidden behind a kind façade. Those Fabray's are built different.
"Where have you been then?" Beth asks, running her tongue along the front of her teeth and kicking the ground beneath her like she doesn't care, but she wouldn't have asked if she didn't and it makes you smile. "Usually you're like a bad smell, hanging around all the time and we haven't seen you in like, two days."
You stifle the laugh, not wanting to embarrass her further and shrug, choosing to ignore the partial insult. You've purposefully been off the radar, not knowing what to say to Brittany, but keeping in (brief) contact for the purposes of Lucas – you've picked him up from school for the past two days and spent genuine time with him – and Quinn's been checking in on you to make sure you weren't being mauled by a pack of stray Alsatians on your apartment floor or whatever.
"Just been focusing on me," you explain, folding your arms over your chest. "That your boyfriend?" You steer the conversation back to this Jake guy who keeps glancing over with a soft smile, like he wants to know she's safe. "He's cute."
Beth's cheeks darken, her hazel eyes rolling, and she tries to hide the small grin, but you see it. "Yeah, he's chill," she replies, trying to seem nonchalant but again, you see straight through it. "Mom said we're allowed to look after Lucas together when you go to Vegas, if that's cool with you."
You nod your head, recalling the information given and now you've seen this guy, you feel slightly more relaxed. If he's showing concern for Beth who's only talking to you – her non-related aunt – then you think he'll be okay with your son. Plus, you trust and know Beth well enough to know she'd dive in front of a bullet for Lucas, and she's far more mature than other teenage girls are at her age, so she'd be able to look after him alone, even without him.
You think Jake is more for company and taking full advantage of an apartment to themselves for three days.
"Yeah, your mom told me," you exhale and smile at her softly. "Keep him safe though, yeah?"
Beth rolls her eyes again. "Shut up. Of course I will. I love Lucas," she states and waves you off, spying over her shoulder where the group of friends behind her begin walking away, and Jake gives her a head nod as if to say follow so you head towards them, in a slow pace, following behind to continue the conversation with the teenager. "Anyway," she breathes and matches your stance, folding her arms over her chest as you walk side by side. "Mom told me about you and Britt."
It's not the smoothest of conversation starters, but you guess that was why she was giving you that look earlier so at least that question is answered. "Yeah," you laugh out the word, but you don't think it's funny. You weren't prepared and you still haven't asked what Brittany intended by telling you that – does she want to get back together? – because your mind has been reeling over memories of the past with her and how you got to where you are. "That's another reason why I've not been around much."
"What are the other reasons?"
You lift a shoulder up at her, trying to play it cool but you remember how she reacted when you told her you were thinking about quitting your job and she had a bigger reaction then, so to tell her you've actually quit, you know you're going to get it again. "Just a couple you don't need to know," you try to avoid it but her eyes flash to you, expression deadpan and you roll your eyes as a smile begins tugging at your lips. She's of tired of your shit as her mom is. That's hilarious. "I quit my job today, okay?"
"No way!" Beth half screeches, jolting as you say it and stopping in her steps, tugging your arm so you spin to face her. "You really quit?"
"Yeah," you confirm and bob your head, seeing pride beaming back at you. The last time she reacted, she asked why you'd give up such a high paying role, but you have your reasons. Reasons you think she might understand now if he reaction is anything to go by. "Went into the office this morning and handed in my immediate resignation," you continue and shrug, even though it's actually a huge deal and Beth totally knows that which is why a grin is growing across her face.
"Making moves, Lopez," she says, punching you lightly in the arm and you mirror the wide grin stretching across her face, but when it falters, so does yours. "Wait, does that mean you're gonna get back with Britt?"
The question renders you speechless, so you just inhale deeply and chew the side of your cheek as you shrug at her. You know that Beth's a huge supporter of your relationship with your ex, and the last thing you want to do is disappoint her, but you haven't considered what the next step is with you and Brittany. You're not even entirely sure what your ex meant by telling you that she was waiting in the wings, and that's like, one of the last steps of your step self-made detox programme that you're currently on day two and step one of. Running and meditation being the first one.
"No, no, no," Beth groans, her brows scrunching together and she's shaking her head at you, looking put out by your lack of response. "No. San, that's now how it's supposed to go," she continues through a half-whine and now you're super confused. Why is she reacting so strongly? You knew about her support, but still, she looks genuinely disappointed that you didn't leap at the chance to get back with Brittany, if she even meant that.
"She told you she was waiting for you, right?" She pushes on and you silently curse her mother for telling her exactly went down. She could've summed it up without using the specific wording that's still confusing you two days after you heard them. "So she's still in love with you," Beth shrugs and you can see the confusion in her eyes from where she isn't putting two and two together to make four.
Because it should be that easy. Just to admit you're in love with Brittany still and she loves you and that love conquers all, but you know now more than ever it didn't stop Brittany from walking out that damn door and that's something that's going to live with you forever. Yeah, Brittany's waiting for you like she said, but you're not sure when you're going to catch up. You can't just throw caution to the wind and dive head first into the most important thing that ever happened to you. As you found out, without Brittany or Lucas, you don't amount to much and that's not a feeling you ever want to experience again.
Beth just doesn't understand that. "It's not that easy, kiddo."
"Don't kiddo me," Beth hisses back and you scoff out a laugh. She's so touchy. "It is that easy, Santana," she continues, reaching for your forearm to gain your entire attention and her face is serious as it gazes up at you, eyes filled with hope. You're not used to her being like this. "It has to be."
But she doesn't know what she's talking about.
She's sixteen and has her first boyfriend which is super exciting when you're that age, but she doesn't know about real relationships and how the world freaking sucks and how Jake will be a distant memory when she's your age. She doesn't know that things don't always go the way they're supposed to, no matter how much you wish upon a star or manifest after cracking a wishbone, but she should. Her parents are perfect examples of relationships that sometimes just don't work out, even when the love is there because sometimes, love just isn't enough.
That's never been the problem between you and Brittany, though. Sure, you had some hesitance back when you first broke up, and wondered if she fell out of love with you, even if she still had love for you, but you know different now. The whole conversation with Brittany at the hospital confirmed that she's always been in love with you, or that's the impression you got from what was said and that's the hardest part to deal with.
She loves you, and always has as it seems, but she still fucking left.
So, no, it's not that easy. An inspirational pep talk from a teenager won't make it that way, either.
"We're not kids anymore, Beth," you retort through a sigh, appreciating that she's trying to sway you, but you live in the real world. Not in the fairy-tale one where everything happens for good reasons and nothing bad ever happens or you wouldn't be in this position in the first place.
"No, you're not," she agrees, but doesn't break the hopeful expression. "You're Brittany and Santana," she emphasizes the words with nods of her head, eyes flitting between yours, showing you how serious she is. "You've been in love forever," she breathes, and it wraps around your lungs, choking you. You can't remember a time where you didn't love her. "Mom used to tell me stories about you two to put me to sleep at night instead of fairy tales, and I never had nightmares because it was a happy ending every time," she whispers, cheeks turning pink as she murmurs the words, beneath her breath and you feel adoration swell in your chest.
You didn't know that.
But as good as it feels to hear you and Brittany were once something to aspire to, you know that that's in the past.
These past seven months have been the worst of your life – or at least match the year you spent without Brittany when she was in London – and you've had to build an entire life without Brittany and it's hard to think that with a few corrected pieces of information, that it'll change. It's hard to let your guard down now, and it used to be easy, back when you two first fell in love because you knew she was never going to hurt you, but she has this time.
She walked out on you, and you've had to deal with that. No night was spent without a tear. Even if you didn't go to sleep crying, you spent the first four months waking up with a tear-stained pillow because you had another dream about a life you lost and you're outright terrified of that happening again.
Still, you know Beth is the first of a long line of people that are rooting for you and Brittany, and even though everything's up in the air, you want to hear her out, get her side of things. You've always listened to her for some strange reason, always thought of her as a voice of reason in a way that you do with Quinn. They might as well be twins, and you guess that's why you treasure her opinion so much. Yeah, she's just a sixteen-year-old teenage girl, but she's incredibly mature and you respect that she gives you raw version of her views.
Not to mention it isn't skewed with the past as Beth was only a kid when you got together the first time.
"You guys have always been in love, even when neither of you knew it," she says and you know she wasn't there, but it's said with such confidence that you know Quinn's definitely spoken about you and this isn't just another part of the inspirational chat. "Mom always told me that she knew there was something, and you were too much of a stubborn jackass to realise it, even when it was literally right there in front of you the whole time."
The words sink in, and you try to listen to the rest but the memories take over your mind and you're pulled back in time.
/
Twelve Years Ago
Brittany had been acting different with you.
Not bad different, but just different.
She lingered whenever she touched you, and you'd shared a weird moment on the sofa a few weeks ago, when you were spooning for the first time watching some film on Netflix, and Brittany told you that you'd be awesome together when Quinn made some douchebag comment about you not being good enough to be with Brittany. Prior to that, you had another moment in the bathroom when you two had hooked up with the cute friendly duo at a bar one night, then spent the night cuddled in bed as she brought your fever down from the alcohol poisoning when you both told them to leave because you got sick.
Or at least, you had convinced yourself it was alcohol poisoning, and not your body reacting to the weird event that transpired in the bathroom.
Anyway, she'd been looking at you differently, too, and you'd tried not to notice it because you hadn't got laid in like, a few months and you were sure it was just the lack of release screwing with your mind. But then Quinn pointed it out when you were at work one day and it was becoming increasingly more difficult to convince yourself that Brittany didn't have a little crush when Quinn pointed it out at every opportunity.
Even though Brittany was dating some six-pack fuelled idiot from one of her classes at college, that still didn't sway Quinn's beliefs.
The day Quinn said something, started like any other day. You got up, had breakfast, went to work, and it was a few hours before the end of yours shift, and after Quinn started hers that you got chatting about going out the following weekend for some drinks. It somehow led to her asking if you were seeing anybody – which you weren't – and then Brittany had walked in and all of a sudden, your eyes were on the tall blonde as she waltzed in through the door and apparently, you'd stared for too long because Quinn had to nudge you in the ribs to get your attention.
"Are you even listening to me?" She asked, throwing a rag over her shoulder and leaning against the cappuccino machine, elbow resting on top.
You laughed, knowing you hadn't heard a word she'd said since Brittany had walked in. You always got this weird excitement when Brittany came into work because she made your shift last like, a blink of an eye. She was always making you laugh, and you always fucked about behind the counter, even when the customers got frustrated as you misheard their order because Brittany was pulling faces at you, or poorly attempting to mimic the customers quirks.
But that was totally normal. She was your best friend.
"Nope," you retorted, leaning down on the counter with your elbows to stretch as Brittany bounced around it, coming over to you first and cocking her hip out against the top, palm shooting to your lower back as it stuck out. "Hey, Britt."
"You okay?" She asked, ignoring your greeting and pressing down until you felt a pop low in your spine and the pressure release, her face twisting with concern as she eyed you curiously. You had a bad back the last few weeks – you somehow fell off the sofa doing something you shouldn't have been doing and landed awkwardly – and as amusing as your best friend had found it at the time, you thought you'd done some serious damage. Brittany was always helping you stretch out though, using her dancer's knowledge of the bones and muscles to help you find relief straight after, though. "Better?"
You grimaced, but forced a smile and straightened up, cracking your back again but feeling no pain. Being on your feet all day behind a coffee counter didn't help it, and you liked that Brittany knew what you were thinking even if she'd just walked in the door and immediately came to help, so you weren't too bothered about seeking medical attention.
"Yeah, thank you," you breathed and grinned at her as she winked, shooting a smile towards Quinn – who you'd completely forgotten about – and skipped into the back to get changed as she was a couple minutes late for her shift.
It meant you and Quinn were alone, and you waited until Brittany disappeared before quirking an eyebrow up at her and folding your arms over, knowing she had something to say. She'd been watching you and Brittany as you were stretching and gave you the same look last week when she found you two on the living room floor, at your place, seeming to be in a compromising position but knowing it was totally innocent. Brittany was just super smart and was like your own personal nurse.
(Even if she didn't wear the candy striper outfit.)
(You were kind of glad. That would've been a huge turn on.)
"Spit it out, Fabray," you hissed, preparing yourself as you looked at her with disdain.
Quinn just shrugged though, popping out her bottom lip and returned to cleaning the cappuccino machine, using the rag on her shoulder on one of the metal spurts. "You two are just super close, that's all."
It wasn't 'just all', and you knew you and Brittany had grown closer in the last couple months but that was just the natural evolution from best to better best friends, so you didn't get Quinn's bullshit excuses whenever you called her out for doing shit like that. You'd all known each other for two years, and okay, maybe it was peculiar that it took a year and a half to get to a stage where you and Brittany moved up on the friendship scale as you didn't know there was even another level, but it was cool. You liked having someone you could totally be yourself with. Someone that made you want to be a better person, but even when you couldn't be, didn't hate you for it or judge you.
Which was what you felt in that moment; like Quinn was judging you.
"What's your point?"
"No point," the blonde replied, focused on the machine in front of her but you just let her simmer for a second, knowing exactly how to pull the information out of your best friend. If you didn't bite the bait, she'd get tired of dangling and just drop it. "Okay, I have a point," she finally continued after less than ten seconds which was better than you'd imagined. "Do you think you two are like a little too close?"
To other people, perhaps, but you were in the friendship, and you never felt weird around Brittany, so you disagreed. "No," you answered and picked up a few of the dirty coffee cups, stacking them up in the tray, ready to load into the cleaner. "We're just really comfortable around each other. She's my best friend."
Your mind flicked back to the other week where you were over at Brittany's where you injured your back, waiting for Quinn to come around for a girl's night and she'd stepped out the shower in a towel that was way too short and you had to pretend like you didn't lean over the back of the couch to watch her retreat to her bedroom, just to admire her half-dressed. She had a killer pair of legs, and you were only human, but you weren't very smooth or subtle. You'd leant too far, tumbled over the edge of it and landed with a heavy thump on the floor which only made Brittany run to you and ask what you were doing, muffling a laughter but aiding you almost immediately.
The combination of your coccyx hurting like a bitch, and Brittany pressing against you almost completely naked was like a slap in the face at what you were doing.
You really needed to get laid. The no sex thing was screwing with your mind so much. To the point where you were even checking out your best friend and thinking about how you could make her drop her towel so you could get a better look at what was underneath.
"No, I'm your best friend," Quinn interrupted. "She's something entirely different and you know," she continued and stopped her motions on the machine, leaning her arm on the top again and giving you a serious look. "If I didn't know any better," she continued and paused for dramatic effect, narrowing her eyes as they studied you. "I'd say she's got a thing for you."
It was the second she finished her sentence that Brittany came out from the back again, sweeping towards you and looping an arm around your waist, a little too low to be just friendly, squeezing your hips gently which made your skin flare. Her fingertips brushed beneath the edge of your uniform shirt, and you'd resisted the urge to shiver when Quinn's eyes darted down to the motion, noticing it with a smirk. But you couldn't focus on that too much because Brittany stopped between you and Quinn, her back to the other blonde and her eyes met yours and she was standing really close to you.
But there was never much room with the three of you crammed behind the counter, and Brittany was a personal space invader, so it wasn't exactly unusual.
"Hey, gorgeous," Brittany breathed, making up for the lack of greeting she gave you earlier when she tended to your back and you'd shuddered out an unsteady breath because she was really fucking close and undeniably pretty, but then you remembered you weren't alone and Brittany peered over her shoulder, twisting her neck but flashing her a dazzling smile. "Hey, Quinny."
A few customers began lining up at the register, so Brittany squeezed your hips one more time, scrunching her face up at you to signal she needed to go and do her job, but you'd taken a moment to memorise the blue of her eyes as your hands grabbed at her forearms in front of you to keep her in her spot for two more seconds, to see if you could see what Quinn was talking about. Surely, it would show in her eyes, but all you could see were the freckles on her face, as it was the middle of Summer and just spent the weekend at her parent's house on Long Island lounging around their oversized garden and how she had a light tan which made her smile brighter and eyes impossibly blue.
But nothing else. Nothing like hearts in her eyes or anything.
Soon enough, one of the impatient customers cleared their throat a little too loudly and Brittany snapped out of it, shooting you a wink and biting her lip before skipping off, swiftly ending the brief spell you were put under. It was only then that you began considering that Quinn had a point and cocked your side to the side as you watched the blondes retreating form, enjoying the way her hips swayed as she walked. Did Brittany have a thing for you?
No. You were being ridiculous.
It was laughable to think that, and you shook your head, tearing yourself out the weird pressure in the air and returned to loading the dirty cups up, deciding not to continue the conversation but Quinn seemed to have other ideas.
"Did you see how she looked and spoke to you, versus me?"
You whipped your head around, scowling fiercely at the blonde because Brittany was not far enough away not to hear this, even if she was probably distracted by the queue of customers waiting impatiently for their coffee, but you were in the middle of a conversation. You didn't see anything, so you didn't see why Quinn did and you would know. You always freaking know when a girl likes you, so you just needed to play it off.
"Quit tripping," you started and waved her off, receiving a click of a tongue. "I'm just hotter than you are and game recognises game," you teased, poking your tongue out at Quinn.
She rolled her eyes and pinched her lips together, looking entirely unimpressed with your attitude, but she needed to stop smoking with Puck because those stolen joints were having delusional effects.
There was no way in hell Brittany had a thing for you and you didn't need to consider that even being an option, or your mind would've twisted, and you would've started reading into everything too much. Like how she took full advantage of spooning time since you'd done it a few weeks ago, or how she always 'accidentally' fell asleep on your sofa when Quinn was round and ended up being dragged to your bed to sleep with you.
You liked the company, even if it was putting a stint in your sex life but spending time with your best friends was far more important than another notch in the bedpost, and you could get laid anytime you wanted to.
"Britt's just like that with me," you continued, unsure if you were convincing yourself for a second but immediately dismissing it because that was the type of thinking you didn't need to do. You and Brittany were just best friends and that was that.
Quinn eyed you for a long moment, her tongue stroking around the outsides of her teeth like she was debating whether or not to push you, but then Brittany slid a few orders over and it was clear you needed to get back to work because the customers were starting to tut and the wrath of Snixx was wanting to creep out. You never handled rudeness well, even if you probably deserved it as there was a queue forming because you were having a conversation with your best friend about an impossibility.
Still, Quinn was never one to let you have the last word and came over to you to personally hand you one of the orders to make, lowering her voice and you knew she was doing it so Brittany couldn't pick up on it. Apparently ending the conversation just wasn't an option. The only reason she had so much time to freaking observe you and Brittany anyway was because she was boring and had no life, and you couldn't help but feel a little sorry for her.
"Just watch out, Lopez," she hushed, eyes shifting nervously behind you, but Brittany was too far away, and the tone used was too quiet to hear. "I think she's catching the feels," she almost half-sung the rest of the sentence and stepped away, and you whipped the dish rag out of her hand and threw it in her face.
Which only earned Brittany's attention when Quinn chuckled loudly, and blue eyes met your brown ones, sparkling as Brittany beamed a wide grin at you, scribbling down the order the customer in front of her was giving, even if she wasn't focusing on that at all.
But it was just what you two did as best friends, and there was no way she had a thing for you.
Was there?
/
"You two have the fairy-tale that everyone wants," Beth states, interrupting you from your memory and you literally shake yourself out of it as you zone back into the conversation.
"Fairy-tale?" You choke out, only picking up on that part of her sentence and she shoots you a look, one that mirrors her mothers in the memory that just occupied you. "Britt and I are far from a fairy-tale, kiddo," you follow up, chuckling darkly because if this is a fairy-tale, you don't want any part of it. Disney really missed out on showing all the pain and bullshit that comes from a relationship in their movies.
The teenager clicks her tongue and over her shoulder, you see Jake begin walking over, hands shoved deep into his pockets and it's your saving grace. You don't want to stand here and listen to someone else tell you that you and Brittany are supposed to be because you've got your hopes up before. They've been thrown into the air as high as they can go and fallen in double time, taking your heart with it and as much as you respect Beth, she doesn't have enough life experience to change your mind about it.
"My mom said she always knew you two would get together, and I vaguely remember seeing you when I was just a kid," she tries, and you know she's old enough to hold memories of you and Brittany at the beginning. She was around for a lot of it, even went with Quinn to pick Brittany up from the airport after her trip to London – which you'd later found out was because of many tears and a huge temper tantrum after missing 'Aunt Britty' so much over the year she was gone – but it still shocks you a little.
"You two weren't like any other couple I've known or heard about," she continues and shrugs. "And I'll be damned if I know why, but Britt loves you, and you obviously love her," she waves her hand around in front of you, gesturing to your body and twists her face up, pinching her cheek up at the side. "You could have your life back," she points out.
You think about waking up to Brittany and Lucas every morning and it makes your heart ache with desire, but it seems so unachievable right now. Everything like that seems so far off, and you don't even know if you can handle getting back with her just yet seeing as you haven't even broken up with Elaine like, officially. That's step number two and you need to know that you can still be you and not fall into old habits, not lose each other if you do start venturing down that road.
"Hey, Beth?" Brown eyes flit to Jake, who's now standing just a step behind Beth, and he reaches out, carefully touching the back of her jacket and getting her to look around. "Sorry to interrupt," he says, aiming at you and then shifts a little closer to the teenage girl. "We're gonna go get ice cream, if you wanna come?"
You're glad for the interruption, because he's obviously polite and proved it now and he's looking at her in that doe eyed teen love kind of way that's making you want to sigh out loudly, even if there's half of you that knows it's the cheesiest love Beth will ever have, and its fleeting. But you and Brittany went through that stage when you weren't even together, going through the honeymoon phase whilst sneaking around behind Quinn's back and you can feel another memory creeping up, but you really should go.
And Jake's just given you the perfect opportunity.
"I should get going," you reply and smile at Jake. "I'm Santana, but you probably already know that," you joke and Jake nervously glances to Beth, an unsure smile on his face but you're just teasing him and he doesn't correct you, so you have a point. "Look after my kid next week, yeah?"
Beth scowls at you, obviously thinking you're embarrassing her, and you poke your tongue out at her, grabbing the ten-dollar bill from the pocket in your leggings and handing it over to the boy, who shakily holds out his hand and looks like a deer caught in the headlights when he realises he just unwittingly took money from you. He tries to shove it back into your grasp, but you reach for your headphones and pop them in your ears, stepping back to jump on the spot as a warmup and a signal that this you're about to part ways.
"No, you buy yourselves that ice cream," you say and hold out your hand when Jake attempts to hand it back to you, shifting awkwardly. He really didn't mean to take it from you, but him protesting is giving you faith in the kid. You've really softened, even if you are more Santana in a lot of other ways. That hardness hasn't come back, and for that, you're glad.
"Thank you, Santana," he finally agrees, realising you're not going to take it back and slides his arm around Beth, smiling at you. "Was nice to meet you."
You nod your head, about to turn away when your name is called and you spin around, pausing once more when the young blonde steps forward.
"For the sake of everyone," Beth begins and gives you an understanding expression, one you're not privy to. She's usually insulting you instead of giving you advice, but you'll admit this conversation has been kind of nice. "Just do what we all know you're going to eventually do and talk to her about your future together," she states, giving the impression that it's that easy, but when you boil down to the real point of why you and Brittany broke up, you know it's too hard to think about right now. "Just make sure you two do it right, this time," she finishes with a knowing tilt of her head, and you shake your head, laughing through your nose quietly. "I won't put up with your bullshit for as long as my mom did!"
She gives you one final grin before sliding her hand into her boyfriend's and tugging him away. You take your phone out your pocket and flick Spotify back on before leaving the other way, mulling over the conversation you just had.
If life was only as easy as it was before.
/
Eleven Years Ago
You and Brittany had been sleeping together for a few weeks.
Quinn and Rachel had almost caught you two weeks prior, and you'd almost been shoved off the fire escape by Brittany's not-so-friendly neighbour, Sue Sylvester when she caught you. She kind of saved your ass, so you took her a box of chocolates as a thank you that she'd sneered at, but Brittany had told you she was a grumpy, bitter old fart and not to worry.
Anyway, you'd been sleeping together every now and then, but the thing that struck you the most was that you didn't always do it when you could.
It was very much like before you'd known what it was like to be inside her, before you'd known what the color of her eyes were when she had an orgasm, but with the added benefits of actually being able to see it. She still touched you as much as before, and when Quinn backed off and stopped pestering you about her theory of Brittany's crush, you started really considering that Brittany actually did have a thing for you.
It wasn't like she initiated sleeping together, but you were being dragged back to the memory of almost kissing her on the dance floor that night at the club, the first night you hooked up, and it stuck with you because you still didn't know why that happened. Out of everything you'd discussed, that wasn't one of them and you were beginning to piece together a picture in your head of what it looked like from your side, and whether Quinn was telling Brittany that she thought you had a crush on her and pulling some weird Parent Trap thing, but the best friend version, but you were just being silly.
As much as you thought about that for too long every now and then, you also figured that you didn't want to know the answer because you liked being like that with Brittany. Sometimes she came over just to hang out, watch a movie and spoon on the sofa, like before, and sure, it would occasionally lead you to pushing down her pants and sliding into her from behind, fucking her the way she liked it, deep and slow, but you also loved the moments you shared where you'd be just you and Brittany.
Best friends, and super comfortable together.
Just sometimes you happened to be naked.
"Hey," Brittany greeted, letting herself into your apartment after an evening shift and you sat bolt upright immediately, cursing yourself internally for reacting so rapidly at her presence. You even waved like some lame ass and scolded yourself again because that was so not smooth or cool.
(If Quinn had seen, she would've began thinking you were the one with the crush.)
(Which you totally weren't, and Brittany didn't have one, either.)
Brittany didn't seem to mind though, and giggled as she took off her coat and threw it alongside her bag on to the armchair before bouncing over to you. You opened your arms, and she nudged your legs together before sitting down sidewards on your lap, legs thrown over the empty part of the couch and snuggled into your neck, inhaling deeply as her nose pressed to the skin of your neck. You felt your pulse leap when a small kiss was placed against it, her body melting against yours, clicking into place and making you feel whole again.
And you knew this wasn't one of those times that would lead to a hot and heavy sex session. She'd texted half an hour before the end of her shift and asked if she could come watch a rom com with you and Quinn and stay over, and you'd been waiting for her to ask you because you asked last time and didn't want to seem too desperate to spend time with her. Since you slept together, you'd unlocked a new fear of rejection and didn't quite know how to approach the subject of you two as it was very much up in the air with zero clarity.
You knew you were only sleeping together – you'd talked about that – but you didn't know if she was sleeping with anyone else and didn't want to know otherwise.
She wasn't yours, and you didn't want her to be anything other than your best friend that you had amazing sex with.
And in that moment, that's what Brittany needed you to be... Her friend.
"You smell so good," was muffled into your neck and you giggled, pulling your head back to urge her away from her. You stared up, pushing back a strand of golden hair as it fell across her face and resisted the urge to kiss her. You made out every now and then, after playfighting when no-one else was around and stole cheeky kisses when Quinn was in another room, just for the thrill of doing something you weren't supposed to but kissing her when she came over seemed a little too coupley.
So, you didn't.
(Even though you really wanted to.)
"You smell like pastries," you replied, scrunching your nose up at her as her fingers began toying with the necklace dangling by your collarbones.
"Will left without making them," she sighed, and your eyes flicked to the clock on your television, registering that it was later than you'd thought, and Quinn was supposed to come over at some point for a few glasses of wine. "Where's Q?"
You chuckled, smiling softly up at her. It was like she was in your head sometimes.
"Don't know, don't care," you said and bit on your bottom lip to inflict pain and distract yourself from that damn urge to kiss her growing inside your chest. It was getting harder to contain the longer you admired her face, and you think she saw it when her lips dropped down to yours then back up to meet your eyes. She wanted to kiss you too.
"Do you want a shower?" You asked, furthering the distraction by steering the conversation but she narrowed her eyes and smirked, like she was still reading your thoughts and blue eyes flickered down to your lips again, causing your breath to hitch in your throat.
"Is that an invitation?" She purred, and you gulped audibly, wondering if you'd read her actions wrong because you didn't think that was one of the times where she wanted to jump your bones seeing as Quinn was going to be over shortly, but there she was, doing it anyway. She was constantly surprising you.
Your mouth opened to reply, but it was at that moment that there were a few light knocks at the door, and it swung open, Quinn stepping inside your apartment and making it five steps in before she froze and eyed you both curiously, her eyebrow lifting the longer she looked. Your body spiked, skin scorching with a layer of heat, and you felt nerves creep up the back of your neck because you two were freaking cuddling and had just been caught, but Brittany wasn't reacting the same way and so you just kept with the façade she was maintaining and stared expectantly at your other best friend, hands wrapping around Brittany's waist as she continued to sit on your lap.
Quinn had seen you cuddle before. It was only a few months back that she caught you spooning for the first time, and she was never good at hiding her suspicions. She was a devious bitch – one of the reasons you two had formed such a strong bond in such a short period of time – but you could read her like a book. She was your home girl, but in some ways, you wouldn't have trusted her completely because you knew what you were like, and you were a brilliant liar.
But Quinn always gave it away, and you knew that faking it until you made it would be the only way to steer her off course if she began following the trail like the bloodhound she was. You really didn't want to tell her about you and Brittany. It was your little secret.
"Noah Puckerman is the biggest douchebag I know," Quinn hissed, instead of commenting on you and Brittany and threw her jacket on top of Brittany's, slumping down heavily on to the empty part of the sofa. "Why did I have to have a kid with him?"
You groaned, realising that Brittany probably didn't give you the sex vibe when she first came in because she already knew about Quinn's issues beforehand and that you'd be disrupted. She was good at reading people too, and always seemed to use her secret sixth sense to pick up on others people's emotions. It was an intelligence that couldn't be taught, and she possessed it and so it made sense that she came in and snuggled you, wanting a brief moment before it being ruined by Quinn coming in and talking about her ex. Again.
So, stepping into the shoes of the best friend, you tapped Brittany, urging her off your lap and fought desperately against the urge to yank her back, just to touch her once again as you went into the kitchen to grab three glasses and a large bottle of whatever hard liquor you had stored beneath the sink as wine just wasn't going to cut it, if the problem you were going to solve was to do with Puckerman.
You returned quickly, setting them down and Brittany took over, pouring out some whiskey and dropping a few ice cubes in before you all kicked back, feet propped up on the coffee table as you sat in a line on the sofa – you in the middle of both of the blondes – and smiled to yourself at the way the hairs stood up at the back of your neck when Brittany slipped her hand beneath your shirt, out of Quinn's view, just to gain that physical connection again.
The rest of the night was spent with Quinn bitching about how Puck couldn't pay Beth's preschool fees, and you knew that you were content with the way things were, because they were easy like this. You could be how you wanted with Brittany with zero suspicion from Quinn, still keep the life you had prior to sleeping with Brittany, and even though there was a whole mess of crap you probably had to deal with in the long term, you were getting laid on the regular and still kept your best friend relationship intact with her.
So, you were good.
But you wouldn't be for long, you just didn't know that it wouldn't always be that easy.
/
When you get home, you decide that if you don't just take the plunge, you're only prolonging the inevitable and pick up your phone from the counter, not even bothering to shower before you send a text to Elaine and invite her over to talk.
You know that you need to move on to the next step of your homemade path to happiness, and something Beth said must have resounded deep inside you because you feel this newfound confidence, focusing on solidifying a permanent change, and Elaine replies positively (thankfully) and tells you she'd only a few blocks away now, so will be there in ten minutes. It means you won't be able to make yourself look a little better, you have just been for a long ass run, but you kind of want to be sweaty and gross because then you can use it as an excuse not to touch her.
Not that you're expecting her to, but you don't want her to misread your invitation as a good thing for your relationship, because you know what you're about to do.
As expected, at the nine-minute mark, there's a knock on your door and you've managed to re-tie your high ponytail and wipe a sheen layer of sweat from your forehead to look a little more presentable before throwing your phone on the couch, then opening the door to find Elaine on the other side, hands clutching her bag nervously.
You swallow hard, gripping the edge of the door and force a half-smile on your face as you brace yourself for what's to come.
/
How we feeling about the flashbacks?