Hey people.

Totally forgot to mention it in the last chapter but the poster on tumblr made by ohvalerievalerie was so freaking awesome that I just had to use it as cover image.

Thank you so so so much for all of your reviews, I love reading them, they're awesome.

Enjoy!

Chapter 17.

It's not like you can't keep your hands to yourself, because you can.

It's just that when she's wearing those tight blue jeans, it makes you do crazy things. Like, reach out and grab her ass. And when she turns around and backs you up against the wall, it doesn't make you regret touching her.

And when she presses her body flush against yours, pushes her thigh between your legs and sucks on your earlobe, you don't regret it at all. What so ever.

You think she has a hard time controlling herself too, but she's very stubborn when it comes to doing things right.

And heavy make-out-sessions on your bed are apparently not wrong at all. They're very right. And very much pleasant. Almost too pleasant. And sometimes you need to push her away because it gets a little too hot.

When you're sitting on your kitchen table, with her body between your legs, and your tongues fighting for dominance, you think that you definitely could get used to this. To her in your apartment, making out with you in your kitchen. On the kitchen table.

And it's not until you hear, "Ew, I eat on that table!" that you think that maybe it's better to limit your make-out-sessions to your room, until Quinn leaves to go back to university.

Quinn's smirking as she makes her way over to the refrigerator and you bite your lip to prevent any jokes about how you'd also like to eat (out) on this table.

"You do have a bedroom, so I don't get why you insist on dry-humping each other everywhere else."

Santana blushes furiously and you glare at Quinn over her shoulder.

"Britt, you don't have any food."

You roll your eyes because you were kissing Santana and you don't give a crap about food right now. But Santana is already a meter away from your body, and you're sitting alone on your kitchen table. So you jump down, walk over to Quinn and peer over her shoulder. Your refrigerator is full with different kinds of food.

"Quinn, just because there's no bacon, doesn't mean that there's no food."

She narrows her eyes and then pouts at you. "Bacon is food, food is bacon."

She seems determined so you don't stop her when she snatches your credit card and informs you that she's going shopping for food.

Santana clears her throat and you look at her, expecting a comment about how rudely interrupted you had been. You're prepared to nod your head and agree with her and suggest that you continue this in your bedroom.

But Santana looks more serious. It doesn't look like she's about to suggest some sweet lady kisses, and suddenly you're a little nervous. Because you're still afraid that she'll get scared, and deny that your date meant anything. You're scared that she'll disappear before you can even start anything. You know your fear is pretty irrational. You don't really think that Santana will run. She's already told you she loves you. That's the scariest thing in the world. To wear your heart on the sleeve like that, especially since you hadn't even told her you loved her first.

So when she smiles shyly and fiddles with her hands in front of her, and suggest that you dance on stage at the club tonight, you're both surprised and not surprised. You knew she wouldn't say that she's not in love with you anymore. You know she's okay with loving you. Otherwise she wouldn't have be spending so much time in your apartment lately.

And when you really register what she said, you furrow your eyebrows.

"What?"

"You know… dance?" she says, more like a question than an answer. "You're really good at dancing and as I told you before, the owner of the club wouldn't mind if you danced there." Santana wrings her hands together and bites her lip. "I know it's not the ultimate stage and it's not fancy or anything. But I think you should show your talent, because you'll be so freaking awesome on that stage."

Your heart fills with warmth that you didn't even know existed in your body. You remember how she suggested it before but honestly there's been happening so much around you lately that you had kind of forgotten it. You like how she wants you to pursue your dreams. And isn't that what soul mates do? Help each other achieve their dreams? You feel the corners of your mouth turn upwards and you bite your lower lip.

"You have barely even seen me dance, and you're still so persistent about how good I am." You're teasing her with your smile and by the pink colour on her cheeks; you know you have an effect on her.

"Um," Santana raises her eyebrows pointedly and you see her swallow. "You gave me that lap dance though. And that was good."

You see how she looks somewhere over your shoulder and you bite your lip to hide a smirk. "Yeah?"

"Uh-huh," she licks her lips and suddenly she's closer to you again and you think that maybe this time she will suggest those sweet lady kisses.

She only has to smile that smile that makes you know exactly what she wants. So you lead her to your bedroom. And you end up making out until Quinn gets home and yells that she can't focus on eating her bacon when it smells like lesbian sex in the entire apartment.

XxXx

You've been preparing the whole night. Santana told you that the stage will be yours at ten pm. Your heart is beating so loud and you can't focus on anything else than how much your hands are shaking. You already have a few choreographs imprinted in your memory, so you're not worried about forgetting the steps. You've been picking out clothes and doing your makeup the past couple of hours. But it still feels like you're not close enough to being ready. But you're already behind stage, warming up by stretching your legs. You can't back out now. You have to do it. You have to dance.

You keep telling yourself that it isn't a big deal. It's not an audition for a fancy dance school, or an audition for a Beyoncé tour. It's just a low key club. You will only dance for one number, only entertaining the guests.

Still, your palms are sweating. You breaths are shallow and your heart is beating in a way that makes you think you'll throw up if it doesn't take it easy soon.

You know why you're feeling this way.

You know what makes everything so much more serious than it really should be.

She'll be out there, watching you. And she's had so much fait in you; you don't want to disappoint her. She gave you this chance because she believes in you, because she wants you to be able to do what you love to do.

If she doesn't think you're good, you'll die.

Your insides will crumble. And the pressure is making you crazy. You contemplate turning around and running away. But then you shake your head, collect your thoughts, and take three deep breaths.

You're going to do this.

You faintly hear the introduction. It's a deep voice, so you're guessing it's a guy. He's saying your name, tells them that you're a dancer. And the pressure only intensifies when he labels you like a professional.

The lights are blinding you when you get out there, and the applauses are deafening your ears. You know that other people will be here too, you kind of texted Tina and Mercedes and they told you they would bring friends. You're not sure exactly who's here and who's not. But there's kind of only one person you care about. And for a second you think you hear her voice screaming "Go, Britt!" but you could be hearing it wrong.

The music starts and you let it fill your body. You feel the rhythm and you act on it. You know the steps; you know the dips, the twirls. You're not thinking you're only moving. Your hips are rolling and twisting from one side to the other as your chest moves up and down. You bend your knees and when your back is millimetres from hitting the floor, you hear how they're hollering. You twirl again, and your muscles twitch and it feels so good to be dancing. You used to do it all the time in high school. When you were a cheerio, you had to dance almost every day. You've missed it, and when you hear how they're wolf whistling you bend just a little bit lower, and puffs your chest out just a little bit more.

The music ends, and your chest is heaving. You can slowly make out silhouettes among the mass of people. That guy from before comes back out with a microphone and he looks almost overwhelmed. He tells you how he thinks you were really good before he yells your name into the mic. The screams grow louder and you bow. When you exit the stage, your heart is thudding in a different way. Not in a nervous way, but in an excited way. The adrenaline is still filling your body and you find yourself laughing. You don't know why, but you just think you're happy. Because they seemed to like it.

You're changing into your black tight jeans, when you suddenly remember that just because the majority of the people out there liked it, doesn't mean she liked it. You suddenly stop smiling. What if she doesn't?

But then you shake your head again, because your fears are irrational. And you won't know if she liked it or not before you go out into that crowed and find her.

You're walking towards their booth and you're not even halfway there when she's engulfing you in a hug and holds you tight. You're encircling your arms around her waist and you mentally punch yourself in the shoulder for doubting her. Of course she would like your dancing. She loves you.

"I love you," she whispers into your ear as if she can read your mind. You feel like you could cry, from happiness overload.

But you decide that you shouldn't cry. Instead, you should kiss her and tell her how much you freaking love her too.

So you pull your face back and you kiss her on her lips, without thinking that it might or might not be inappropriate in front of all these people. As your lips are pressed against hers, you feel her tightening the grip she has around your waist. You're so thankful for her, for getting you to do this. For making you feel this way. For making you get that adrenaline kick.

You mumble, "I love you so much it's retarded," against her lips and she snorts.

You love her snorts so you kiss her again. This time you graze your fingers against the skin of her neck and you part your lips and tilt your head. She gets the hint and lets your tongue inside her mouth.

You're interrupted, again, when the others come up to you from behind Santana.

They're congratulating you and Quinn is only smiling and telling everyone how she already knew you were good at dancing, since she's known you since forever. She's proud of you, you can tell. And when she hugs you, you feel it too.

Mercedes and Tina are looking between you and Santana like they don't really know what to think. You decide that you should probably tell them about you and her sometime. But not now, that's for those gossip breaks you take at work.

You order drinks and you're just about to bring back your shot to the table, when someone pokes you on your shoulder. You turn around and see a girl standing there with a smirk on her face and a drink in her hand. "You're really good at dancing," she says while scanning your body from top to toe. You blush and thank her for her complement. The girl doesn't say anything more because Santana takes your hand and calls you 'babe'. You feel something in your chest flutter. When you turn to look at Santana, she's staring at the girl. And you get flashbacks from the other night when that other girl started flirting with you.

"You really are the jealous type," you wink at her and Santana shrugs.

"Kind of don't want to find any more numbers in your bra," she mutters as her cheeks tint pink.

Your smile stretches across your face and you can't help but duck your head a little bit and bite your lip. "Does that mean that you'll be taking my bra off tonight?" you ask and she opens her mouth to say something but she only stutters. You laugh and kiss her cheek. "You're so cute," you tell her while dragging her back to the booth.

You settle down in the booth and Santana shuffles in beside you.

"Seriously Brett," Mercedes says and gives you a large grin. You roll your eyes but wait for her to continue. "You can be my background dancer when I become a famous singer in the near future. You were really good."

It means a lot to you, that she thinks you were good. Because dancing is the only thing you're really good at, and you want Mercedes to like you. She's really cool. You thank her and you miss the way Rachel scoffs at her friend, and tells her that she's not even close to being as good as Barbra.

"Hey, Britt. You any good at teaching?"

Mike is leaning over Tina to get your attention. You furrow your eyebrows. "Not really," you tell him. "I wasn't really good in school, I barely passed math and English," you tell him, embarrassedly looking down into your lap.

"I didn't mean school subjects, I meant dance." Mike smiles at you like he knows something that you don't. You went to high school together after all, so you know that he knows that classes weren't really your strongest passion.

"Oh," you say. "Well, yeah. I think so. I taught the cheerios all the choreography," you tell him.

He smiles brightly and then hands you a small paper card. "Awesome. I've got an open spot at my dancing school, call me tomorrow or something and I can tell you more about it."

You look at Mike like you don't know what to say. But you take the card and you look at it before stuffing it in your pocket. "Thanks," you say because you don't know what else to say. He smiles at you before leaning back and starting a conversation with Tina and Quinn. You feel your smile grow, and your head spin. And suddenly it feels like your life is making progress. Like you're actually on your way forward.

You feel a squeeze at you knee and you look over at Santana. She's quirking her eyebrow at you and then says, "I told you, you were great."

Your heart swells again and you stare at her eyes until someone declares that you should play drinking games again.

After everyone has had their fair share of tequila shots, and Santana has stroked your thigh under the table for over half an hour, you decide it's time for some dancing.

Everyone actually leaves the booth to dance. Nobody sits in the booth drinking alcohol and you dance together in a big group before you dance your way over to your favourite brunette.

XxXx

You're dancing with Santana like there's no tomorrow. You're also dancing with Santana as if there are no other people around. You don't care though. They can think whatever they want. As long as Santana keeps grinding her ass into your front. She's reaching her hands up to twine her fingers in your hair and you dip your head down to her shoulder, ghosting your lips against the skin on her neck. The music is pumping through your body and the bass is making your heart thump and your arms tingle. Though you're not sure if it's because of the music or because of the girl in front of you.

Her skin tastes delicious and if you could measure your sexual frustration on a scale from one to ten, it would be a twelve.

You're feeling that thudding in your entire body, like you're on fire but still get ice buckets poured down your back. You shiver but it's not a bad shiver. It's that kind of shiver that makes your hands pull her closer and makes your lips part against her caramel skin.

You hear her moan, and she flings her head back. You keep pressing your lips to her neck, and when she tightens her grip in your hair, you poke your tongue out and lick a trail up her neck.

"Holy cow." You barely heard it but you're still close enough to her mouth to know what she said. You find it cute.

Like very cute.

And hot.

And that twelve slowly rises up to at least a seventeen. And suddenly you feel the urge to drag her with you to the restroom and make out in a little more private area.

So you do.

Santana doesn't say anything, you think it's because she wants this as much as you do. Her eyelids are heavy and her lips are parted, breathing hard against your cheek. Her breaths are uneven and hot and goose bumps rise on your skin. You feel the heat crawl up your neck. When you push her inside a stall and press her up against the door, her eyes flutter shut. You lick your lips, so hungry and desperate for her skin, for her scent, for her lips. You think you might faint if you can't feel more of her skin soon. You're addicted to her. And ever since that first time you tasted her skin, you can't get enough.

You take what you can though, in this bathroom stall in a secluded part of a club in the middle of the night. You take her shirt into your hands and you claw at her body. She's grinding her hips into you while you trace the skin on her stomach.

There's something about the combination of pale and light brow. Like caramel and vanilla that you can't get enough of. Seeing your body mould with hers and the comparison of your skin tones, makes you like the idea of you two together even more. It's something about you that make you perfect for each other.

And the way she flutters her eyelashes and pulls you closer, makes you feel like you can't live without her.

You know it's crazy and you haven't known her for very long. But everything about this moment is beautiful, and you wouldn't trade it for anything. She whimpers against your cheek and you take her upper lip between yours, lifting your hands to her hair and bury your fingers in her dark locks.

You moan against her lips when she pulls you even closer and your hips grind together with perfect rhythm. If someone else is in the bathroom, they would definitely be suspicious about exactly what is happening in the middle stall. But Santana's hands are caressing your back underneath your shirt and she's tracing your spine and you buck your hips into her. You wouldn't even notice if there was anyone in here, you wouldn't even care.

A helpless whimper leaves her lips when you start peppering the left side of her jaw line with tiny kisses. You get lost in the soft feeling of her skin as you caress her right cheek with the palm of your hand. You can feel how she puts her finger on your chin and you lift your head so that you're looking into her eyes.

You're drawn in. You're lost. You're gone.

Those warm brown eyes are swallowing you whole, like you can't get out even if you tried. Like even if you didn't want to fall for her, you've already done it. It's too late and her eyes are telling you more than words will ever do.

You're trapped in her eyes and the only thing you want to do is to stay there. Preferably forever.

You're kissing each other softly and slowly for longer than you can count. You breathe her in and even though you're both wearing clothes, it's like you can feel every inch of her body against yours. It's like you can feel her everything, not only her body, or her skin or her hot breath on your lips. But something more than that, something so much more important. That feeling is more important for you than everything else right now.

It's like you're close to her feelings, to her heart. In a way that you've never felt with anyone else before. It feels like you're with Santana in this world where only the two of you exist. And the only thing you need to care about is her. And the only thing on her mind is you.

And it feels so amazing, so that when she pulls away and tucks a strand of your hair behind your ear, you smile sheepishly at her.

"Want to go back outside?"

You don't want that at all. You want to stay hear with her and stroke her cheek and smile at her and watch as her lashes flutter.

But you know you probably should, before the whole 'doing things right' thing goes right out the window. Because you know that if she keeps looking at you like that and touching you, and making you feel this way, you'll have her clothes in a pile on the bathroom floor before she can say 'rainbow'.

You know how much she wants to do this right.

So you nod. And she smiles at you before slowly leaning in and capturing your lips in a soft kiss, before pulling back. She reaches her hand out and pulls the door open.

She takes your hand and you head out into the hustle of the club. You get reminded of the world outside of you and Santana's bubble when you look around and watch all those other people. You're almost dizzy, like you just woke up, like what happened in that bathroom stall was just a dream and that you're now shaken into reality.

But when you feel a tug at your hand, and follow that arm with your eyes and you see her smile. You know that she followed you here too. That she not only exists in your dream, but also in your reality. You're so relieved. You wouldn't be able to live without her in any of those worlds. So you pull her closer to your body as you make your way through the club. You're rubbing your thumb over the skin of her hand, reminding her that you're her with her, always.

When you're back at the booth with everyone else, she doesn't even try to hide how much she wants you.

She dips her tongue into your mouth as everyone is watching and you know you should feel embarrassed. You would have, if it were anyone else. But it's Santana's tongue, so your skin tingles and the hair on your arms are standing on end. You don't feel embarrassed at all. What so ever.

You only feel how you never want her tongue to leave your mouth. Like you'd be okay with it being there always.

You like how she doesn't care if anyone is watching or not, like she wants to show everyone that you're off limits.

You love that feeling of being off limits for everyone else, except her. You love how she doesn't want any numbers in your bra, or any girls checking you out.

You love how she keeps holding your hand and stroking your cheek. You love how the only person she wants in this entire room, is you. And you love that you have found that person, and that you also love her back.

XxXx

There's a lot of fluff in this story, but I think we all deserve some fluff!

Also, there will only be a few more chapters before this story is over. But then I will be posting a Brittana one shot rather soon that I've been working on. And than I'll be writing a new Brittana multi-chapter story soon too, which I'm very excited about! So if you want to read any of those put me on author alert so you will know when they get published.

Anyway, hope you enjoyed this chapter!