Brittany watched as Santana got a tin out of one of the desk drawers and started towards the couch she was seated at. "Scoot over," Santana ordered, and the blonde obeyed her. After she'd sat down, Santana put the tin on her lap, opened it and produced a hairy fragrant bud out of it, along side a silver metal grinder. She separated a few pieces of the bud with her fingers, then split the two halves of the grinder, stuffed the weed in there and put the pieces back together. She handed it to Brittany and said, "Get to work, blondie."
Brittany ground up the weed and put the grinder on Santana's lap, "All done!" she said with a smile. Meanwhile, the brunette had grabbed a cigar out of the tin, and had been carefully ripping it open with her fingers. She thanked the other girl without looking up from the cigar in her hands. After she'd taken out a lot of the tobacco in it, she opened the grinder and started putting the weed into the opened cigar wrapper.
Brittany couldn't tear her eyes away from Santana's agile hands, or the way her hair had fallen forward and had hidden her face a little. Then the brunette started to roll the cigar again, so as to be able to close it. With a few well-practiced movements the formerly brutalized cigar had turned into a perfect looking blunt. All that was left was to glue it together. And when Santana whipped her head to the side, to move her hair back behind her shoulder, wet her lips with the tip of her tongue and then ran that very tip over the edge of the cigar wrapper, Brittany had to brace herself, because of course Santana had to be sexy about everything she ever did.
Once she'd inspected the blunt she'd rolled and found it was up to her standards, Santana grabbed something else out of the tin, then set it on the floor next to her. She turned over in her seat to face Brittany, extended her hands towards her and asked, "You wanna light it?" The blonde nodded and took what was being handed to her which, predictably, turned out to be the blunt and a Zippo.
She put the blunt between her lips and inhaled deeply. It was the first time the blonde had ever been nervous about lighting up a joint. It was just that it was Santana's perfectly rolled one, and her very beaten up Zippo in her hands, so the whole thing felt strangely ritualistic and ceremonial. Also, if she'd had to be honest, at that moment, Santana's expectant eyes and her dimpled smirk were making her distracted, and she feared she'd accidentally set her hair on fire or do some other, equally ridiculous thing.
Finally, she ignited the lighter and put the flame on the end of the blunt. As she took the first drag, she felt how strong the taste was. The tobacco in it smelled a bit like chocolate and the weed was undeniably peppery. It made her cough a little, which made Santana smile wide and take the blunt from her.
The brunette took a long drag and puffed out the smoke very slowly. Took another and blew it out of her nose. Brittany giggled and it sounded to her like someone else's laugh. "This is some really strong stuff, Santana. Where did you even get it?" she asked.
Santana looked at her amusedly, her eyes were half lidded. "It's really good shit, isn't it? I get it from my mom." Upon hearing the last bit of information from Santana, Brittany perked up and exclaimed "No way! Your mom is a drug dealer?" Santana chuckled and replied "No, blondie. I wish. It's something much worse: she's an organic farming, tree hugging, vegetarian hippie. She grows it for personal use and then kind of gives it as a present to her friends and family after she forgets a birthday, or accidentally tells someones kid there's no Santa, or when she thinks her ninety year old great-aunt needs to loosen up a bit."
"Poor kids. Santa is the coolest part of Christmas. I believed in him until someone in high school mocked me for it and told me he didn't exist. Sometimes i think my parents only stopped homeschooling me because they hoped that someone else would tell me about Santa so they wouldn't have to." Brittany said with a pout and took a drag of the blunt that Santana had handed to her while she spoke.
Santana reached her hand down and tickled Brittany's bare foot, making the blonde laugh and bringing her out of her sudden sadness. The brunette then spoke, "It was really unfair that no one was there for you during high school. I would have ended the little shit who was mean to you." The declaration had been firm, but kind and it had left Brittany wishing she could just lean forward and hug Santana. Instead, she passed the blunt over to her with a thankful, toothy smile.
After a while, they were done smoking, Santana saved the roach that was left in the tin and set it back down. Brittany had started spacing out and the music in the room made her want to laugh, dance and have sex, only all at the same time. "What is this music?" she asked. Santana paused as if she had to think up the answer for a while. "Wait, what?" she asked after a minute. The blonde laughed, turned over on the couch to face Santana and nudged the girl's leg with her foot. Santana caught Brittany by the ankle and pulled her leg forward, making her slide down in the couch. Brittany's legs were bracketing Santana's, who suddenly surged forward and landed on her hands and knees, her face hovered just an inch above Brittany's.
The blonde's eyes shot open and her expression got serious. Weed made her horny, the girl above her drove her crazy with want, so she was about a second away from flipping her over, and having her way with her. Santana was looking at her with a blank look on her face, but soon enough, she pressed her body to Brittany's and brought her hands to the sides of the girl below her, and started tickling her. Brittany was stoned enough that any touch could make her squirm, but she reacted to Santana's in such a powerful way, that she flung the girl over to the side and off the couch. She landed on the floor with a muffled thud.
Brittany shut her eyes really tight and wished with all her might that she could go back in time and erase the past few seconds. Although time stayed its course, she heard Santana gasp and exhale and she leaned over to find her sprawled on the floor on her back, crying with laughter.
Once she was done laughing and had dried a few unshed tears from her eyes, she declared that she was really hungry, and Brittany agreed that she was too. "I think there's a cake that my grandmother impulse bought. And she won't eat it, because my mom told her butter is a carb, or something." Santana explained. "Oh god! Yes! Cake!" said Brittany in a voice that sounded too much like a string of moans. "Okay, I'll go and get it and you try to contain your orgasms until you've actually tried it." Santana replied and hastily left the room.
Brittany's body was strangely energetic but her mind ran slowly and in circles. It took her about a minute and a half to realize what she'd been thinking about, but when she did, she sprung into action: she would build a blanket fort. She pulled the red comforter and a blanket from the bed. She built a roof with the blanket, that extended from the back of the couch to the desk chair. Once that structure was stable enough, she covered the floor under it with the comforter. Then she gathered every pillow and cushion she could find and set them on the comforter. Once she was done she crawled in, lay down and closed her eyes.
A couple of minutes passed and she heard Santana's footsteps and after that, her chuckle. Then her hand appeared, with a dish in it and on it, a large piece of chocolate cake. Brittany grabbed it. Another dish with cake was handed to her, and then Santana lowered herself and got under the blanket roof.
In the comforting and warm half-light of the blanket fort, they sat, one in front of the other, their knees brushing against one another. Santana kept sending her looks that were intense, yet playful as they ate their cake. Brittany felt like she would never find her footing with the girl in front of her, but she couldn't escape Santana's eyes and the way they seemed to taunt her, to reel her in just to cut her off the next moment. Brittany frowned at her thoughts and immediately caught Santana's inquisitive expression looking back at her. She quickly relaxed her features and gave the other girl a soft smile.
Once they were done eating, Santana took both their plates and set them on the floor, outside of the fort. "That was the best cake I've ever had," Brittany declared and then she licked her lips. Santana let out a chuckle, "Is that what you were thinking so hard about while we ate?" she inquired. "Cake is serious business. Actually, all sweets are," Brittany answered, in a jokingly serious manner. She obviously wasn't very concerned with the cake, but it wasn't like she could really tell the girl in front of her that she was very confused with her attitude, and demand an explanation.
Santana smiled an adoring little smirk, and shook her head as if she couldn't believe the blonde girl was real. Then she leaned forward, towards Brittany, "You know, you're a really bad liar," she said in a low whisper.
Suddenly, the mood shifted and the air between them seemed to have become more condensed. The brunette kept leaning forward, her eyes shifted their focus to the blonde's lips, until finally she brushed her nose against Brittany's and started to tilt her head to one side.
Brittany kept very still as she felt the other girl's long eyelashes brush against her cheek and her breath hit the side of her mouth. She could smell the scent in the brunette's hair and before her thoughts could process what having Santana so close to her again was like, she felt soft, warm and sticky lips against her own. Her eyes widened in surprise until she snapped out of it and shut them, determined to kiss Santana back with all she had.
And she did kiss her. And felt the way Santana's lips molded and sealed against her own, and then shifted, slid and formed a new shape against her mouth. Their mouths opened, their tongues met. They tasted each other. Santana's kisses were sweet and thick and they carried the most delicious pressure, which made Brittany's lips tingle, and her mind swim.
The feeling that Santana's kisses were giving her extended through Brittany's body in an erratic rush, which made the pads of her fingers tingle, the hairs in the nape of her neck stand, her chest ache with excitement and her heart thump at a maddeningly rapid rate.
Before they'd kissed, to Brittany there was only a pull, a seduction. When the kisses came and they heightened every sensation, and exploded in a burst of intensity which hastily traveled in all directions. They were non-linear kisses; they were cosmic.
And she got it: in that vertiginous moment, Santana was all there, ever-present. She knew there were no promises being made to each other, but in those kisses there was no distance left between them, and as Brittany let herself feel it all, she thought there could be nothing sweeter.
As far as epic first kisses go, stoned Santana in a blanket fort was in an entirely different league from anyone else she'd ever had. She'd kissed a lot of people in her past, but no one could compare.
After a few minutes, Santana had pushed her forward, laid her down on the comforter, and was on top of her, still kissing her while her hands slid up the blonde's shirt and ran up and down her sides. The pressure of Santana's hips on Brittany's felt too good, her body heat and the fact that her amazing boobs were pressed against her own were sending her into overdrive, suffocating her in the most pleasurable way. She held on to Santana's muscular shoulders and let out a series of little moans and gasps. She didn't know exactly what she wanted, but she needed to get rid of their clothes.