Together we will rise

by Jinxgirl

Post Glee, canon through season 5 and then AU after. About a year after Brittany and Santana have broken up, Brittany learns of a traumatic incident Santana endured and the suffering she's going through. Their paths draw together again as together they work to rebuild their lives- and eventually, their relationship. Trigger warning: incident of rape/physical assault, homophobia

34. Chapter 34

A few days after their first attendance of Kurt and his band's rehearsal, Santana got stuck on what to dress herself in when she woke up in the morning. Her summer class schedule was light, with only two classes she was taking every other day, and so she didn't have to go anywhere but to Brittany's air conditioned studio if she didn't want to. She knew she needed to do preparation for next fall semester, when she would have enough credits under her belt to possibly take on an internship, and she needed to decide which possibilities she was interested in and whether she was ready yet for that new level of stress and responsibility. She had handled the increase in her classes okay, but an internship was something else entirely.

After her shower with Brittany, Santana lingered in their bedroom, still wrapped in her towel. She had chosen underwear but nothing else, because she couldn't seem to decide what to wear. The days were growing hotter as summer stretched on, with July approaching fast, and although she had mostly stuck with her leggings and hoodie near uniform regardless, occasionally switching this up only slightly with a baggy t-shirt, it was getting more and more uncomfortable to dress like that, physically if not emotionally. Santana's hair, even if pulled up or back, was heavy and thick, and when paired with clothes that covered her entirely, she tended to end her days with sweat beaded on the back of her neck, down her back, and under her breasts and armpits, no matter how much antiperspirant she used. It made her feel gross, and although part of her didn't mind that- keeping herself from drawing notice was the main reason she was doing what she was doing- the other part of her worried that Brittany too would find this unattractive. And it was getting almost torturous on especially hot days.

Standing in front of their shared closet, Santana stared at the cute little outfits hanging up on Brittany's side, everything from blouses to skirts and pants to sweaters and dresses and tanks. Brittany's clothes were bright and bold overall, and her eyes lingered on the ones that were made to show off skin. Once, she herself had worn little else but short, tight dresses, cleavage-bearing tops, and anything else she felt showed off her body to its best advantage. She still owned all the clothes she used to wear with pride, but they were all still stuffed into suitcases and duffel bags at the bottom of the closet. Santana hadn't bothered to take them out. If she didn't intend to wear them, why bother to hang them up?

And yet, she hadn't gotten rid of them entirely.

Her anxiety beginning to peak as she continued to regard the contents of the closet, she spun around abruptly, turning to Brittany as she continued to clutch the towel up around her chest. "Britt? I don't know what to wear. Nothing looks right."

Her eyes dropped down to the bags of her clothing still on the closet floor, before looking back up at her girlfriend's face.

In spite of her confused mental state, Santana was not blind. She did take a moment to steal an appreciative look at Brittany in her bra and underwear, a ghost of a smile on her lips. She had enjoyed every second of their making out in the shower, and she appreciated more than she could say how Brittany never pushed or pressured more on her than she indicated she was ready for and comfortable with. She was growing closer to feeling if not comfortable with her body, at least willing to grudgingly accept it, sometimes, and she did fully believe and accept that Brittany loved and appreciated it and her for exactly where she was.

Making herself refocus, she lifted her eyes back up to Brittany's. Considering her question to her carefully, she furrowed her brow, trying to think through the answer before giving it.

"I don't feel like I want to wear any of it," she tried to clarify, speaking slowly as she reasoned through her thoughts. "I mean…I don't want to be really hot all day. I get sweaty and gross and I feel like I look stupid. I mean, I'm okay with looking stupid, sort of, But I'm tired of being hot. But I don't…I mean, I have clothes, and you have clothes, obviously," she said, gesturing her hand towards the open closet. "But they aren't right."

Somewhat frustrated, she tried to explain herself again, aware that she sounded unclear. "I don't want to wear stuff that makes me look…stuff that shows my skin, or how my body looks. But you can see skin or how my body looks in everything I have, practically, except the stuff that makes me sweat like a sumo wrestler."

She paused again, glancing down at the packed bags of her old clothes on the closet floor. "Maybe they aren't as tight now though? I think I'm still smaller than I used to be when I wore them, a little bit, maybe?" She isn't entirely sure of exactly what her size is anymore, other than "bigger than when she was refusing to eat at all." In her mind, her body image tends to go from horrific and envisioning herself as a Goodyear Blimp twin to sort of okay, somewhat. She has no idea what her body looks like to others in "normal" clothes.

Still….

"But even if they aren't as tight, they still show my arms and legs and chest and everything," she fretted. "I don't know. What should I do?"

Brittany was patient as Santana elaborated on her dissatisfaction with their closet, nodding when Santana, for the first time, admitted how hot and sweaty she got wearing so much fabric out. She could see the conflict in Santana's eyes, wanting, for the first time, to wear something other than clothes that completely covered her up, but still not wanting to feel exposed. She nodded when appropriate, the wheels in her brain already turning as Santana continued to explain herself, wanting to help her, but also knowing there were certain things about this particular problem that they needed to discuss.

"Okay," Brittany repeated with a nod, signaling that she understood. "I think we can definitely find something that feels better than a hoodie or leggings, that seems unbearable," She confessed. "I have no idea how you've been doing that all summer." She said honestly, knowing it had to be uncomfortable, especially in the boiling heat of New York City. "It's really hot out, and tons of people are wearing shorts and t-shirts and dresses and skirts," Brittany pointed out, knowing that Santana needed to be reminded that she wouldn't be the outlier for wearing clothes that showed her skin.

"I want to know why you don't want to wear clothes that show your skin," Brittany urged softly. "I mean, I know why, but I want to understand more," She confessed honestly. "I mean, I wear clothes that show my skin, and lots of other people do," Brittany reminded, "Are you scared someone will touch your skin?" She wondered, "Or that someone will hurt you?" She knew there were so many reasons, some of them not even logical, but powerful deterrents for Santana.

Letting Santana think about her answer for a moment, she bit her lip, thinking. "I think we could definitely try on some of your old clothes," Brittany suggested, "Even if you don't wear them outside, we could see what kind of clothes feel good to you and which don't. You can try some of my clothes on too," She nodded, "They'll probably be even looser on you and my dresses will be longer," Brittany promised, knowing that most of her wardrobe was flowy and loose compared to Santana's former wardrobe of short-and-tight.

Santana's lips thinned as Brittany pressed gently for her to better voice her thoughts, her forehead puckered slightly as she hesitated to speak them. She shifted her weight, clutching the towel more tightly against her body, and her shoulders tensed as she searched for words.

Brittany was right. It was all reasonable, what she was saying. It was hot out, very, and any other year Santana wouldn't have thought twice about wearing whatever she could get away with wearing out in public without an indecency charge. But it was all different to her now, and it was very difficult for her to say aloud why. For Brittany, though, she made the effort.

"I feel naked," she said softly, eyes averted. "I feel like...like I'm too visible. Everyone sees everything, every part of me, and they just know. Like...like it's written all over my skin."

She didn't further elaborate; she knew Brittany knew that she was referencing the rape. Taking a shaky breath, her fingers whitened with their grip on her towel.

"Nothing feels right," she continued quietly. "Dresses and skirts, they're too...too easy. People can...reach inside, too easily. And...yeah, they might touch me. I don't want anyone to touch me but you."

The stress of saying this aloud is showing in her face plainly now, and her body leans towards Brittany unconsciously, seeking comfort in having her closer even though she doesn't reach for her. "I don't...I don't like my boobs anymore," she confessed, the words coming out in a rush. "They're too...obvious. Especially now. I wish I never got the stupid implants. Everything I have to wear, they're too...out there."

Her face is flushed now, eyes firmly fixed away from Brittany's. She knows since her weight loss, even with what she's gained back since, the implants seem larger than usual against her frame, and she hates it, regrets it rather than taking pride in them as she once had. She has taken to wearing sports bras to try to flatten herself as much as possible, but it still doesn't feel like enough if she wears more weather appropriate clothes.

Brittany watched Santana's body curl even tighter into herself, if that was even possible. In the gentle silence, she let her hands come up, resting on Santana's shoulders comfortingly, her thumbs rubbing soothing circles into Santana's skin while also exerting gentle pressure downwards, forcing Santana's shoulders to relax and lower as she thought about her answers. She knew this was only the beginning of probably a lot of different issues regarding clothing and how Santana felt comfortable in public, but the fact that they were even having them was a step, Brittany thought, in the right direction. The fact that Santana didn't want to wear her default hoodie and leggings meant she wanted to try, and, most of the time, that was all Brittany needed to help her.

She sensed that there was obviously some vulnerability associated with wearing more revealing clothes, but she didn't expect Santana to say that the lack of clothes made her feel like more people would know, tilting her head as she processed this, but letting Santana continue explaining, not wanting to cut her off before she was done speaking. Her heart clenched as Santana elaborated on why the more revealing clothes didn't feel right either, a familiar feeling blooming in her chest - the need to protect Santana, above all else, from every possible bad thing in the world.

She pouted gently, squeezing her shoulders when Santana leaned in toward her, struck by how different their lives had become. She would've never guessed that Santana would ever dislike her boobs- they had always been something she wanted, something she never regretted, and something she loved having, but now, Brittany almost felt sorry for her for how uncomfortable they made her feel. Her mind was spinning with the information she'd just received, some of which she'd predicted but some of which she hadn't, wanting to comfort Santana in every possible way that she could.

"Hey," Brittany cooed, bringing her hand up to cup Santana's jaw, gently tilting her face toward her so that she could look at her. "It's okay. Those are a lot of things to worry about, and they're not all your problems." She said, sorting through her thoughts, wanting to parse out the most important things that she wanted to communicate to her. "First of all, no one knows what happened to you unless you tell them," She reminded gently, wanting to give Santana some of her power back, the power to tell who she wanted and withhold that information from anyone else. "Just like how a lot of the time you can't tell if someone's sick just by looking at them or even their sexuality or whatever else," She said. "You just look like a normal person- you are a normal person." Brittany promised.

"And you know I'd never let anyone touch you," She said, knowing Santana already knew it, even though her fears were still valid. "You'll always be with me in public and we're almost always out around other people. No one is going to hurt you wearing a dress or a skirt just like they wouldn't hurt you if you had leggings on." Brittany promised, wanting Santana to feel safe when they left the house, regardless of what she had on. "And, it's not your job to dress a certain way for anyone or to protect yourself from anything." Brittany said finally, her other hand rubbing up and down her arm soothingly.

"It's not your job to not wear dresses or skirts or try and cover your boobs," She pointed out, her voice soft but solid. "Your body is your body and you should be able to wear whatever you feel like. If someone were to ever touch you or hurt you, which they won't, that's their fault, not yours. You can wear whatever you want, and you'd never, ever be responsible. You weren't responsible for what happened last year and you'd never be responsible," Brittany promised, wanting to pull any and all blame off of Santana.

She knew, to herself, it was obvious that Santana could never bear responsibility or be to blame, but the more Santana spoke, the more Brittany wasn't certain that Santana believed that statement. "It's okay to not feel comfortable in your body, everyone does sometimes, but it's also okay to wear things that show your skin or have big boobs or whatever else." Brittany said. She knew she was speaking generally, that Santana's reasons for feeling uncomfortable in her body ran far deeper than general discomfort, but she also didn't want to call attention to that in particular.

"But at the end of the day, it's what you want to wear." Brittany reminded. "We can try shorts too, or tops that aren't super low cut, things like that, until we figure out what you feel best wearing," She shrugged, confident that they could figure it out.

Santana's shoulders gradually relaxed under Brittany's gentle touch, and she leaned in closer against her, resting her head against Brittany's chest. When Brittany touched her face, pulling it up to meet her eyes, she let her, her eyes dark with her anxiety and shame, even for Brittany to see. She tried to listen, to take in and accept what Brittany was telling her, but her mind fought against some of it, struggling to accept it as true.

She did know that people couldn't know what had happened to her, but knowing this didn't mean that she didn't feel irrationally that they could, all the same. Knowing this didn't mean that she didn't feel her body radiated off vibes of vulnerability that invited any predator to set forward. And Brittany's reassurance that she was normal- that, to Santana, was simply and fully untrue. She definitely wasn't normal. No one other than Brittany could ever think that, certainly not Santana herself.

She swallowed, turning over the idea that her body was hers, that she could dress it as she wished and no one should ever have the right to touch her just because of what she wore or how she looked. She knew that was true, but nevertheless, there was always a part of her that blamed herself for what had happened. She had been dressed too sexually, deliberately so, because she knew it drove up tips. She had been too harsh, too rude, instead of falling into a more "girly" accepting role of a pushy man's ways. She had been working in a bar, and worst of all, she had never believed that anything could ever happen to her.

She didn't directly respond to what Brittany was telling her, accepting parts of it, rejecting the rest silently, and then turned back to the closet reluctantly.

"Pick me out something to try on," she left up to Brittany. "I don't even know where to start."

She hummed in pleasure when Santana leaned against her, holding her gaze as she explained all the reasons why it could never, ever be Santana's fault or responsibility, wishing she could somehow transfer to Santana just how much Brittany believed that to be true. The silence she was met with wasn't entirely unexpected, even going as far as suspecting Santana maybe didn't even fully believe everything she was saying but not wanting to push her on it, knowing that truly, there wasn't much Brittany could do in terms of coaxing Santana into believing what she was saying. She would just have to keep reminding her, Brittany resolved.

When Santana turned, Brittany followed her gaze, skimming over their clothes, and Santana's untouched duffel bags on the floor, which she previously hadn't really paid any attention to. She thought Santana was going to step forward and choose something, but her gaze flickered to her when she spoke, instead turning the power over to Brittany to choose. Although it was a small, inconsequential statement, Brittany's heart fluttered - Santana trusted her to figure it out. It was the purest act of love, Santana surrendering choice to Brittany when she was overwhelmed with the options.

"I love you," Brittany murmured, stepping up to her and pressing a kiss to her cheek before stepping forward towards their closet, twisting her lips in thought. Options, she decided, were the best thing that she could give Santana. "I'm going to take out a bunch of different types of things to try on," She said decidedly, already slipping some of her own dresses off their hangers, slinging them over her arms. She turned to toss them on the bed before crouching down to the bags, unzipping one and rifling through it, coming up with a few of Santana's own dresses along with two pairs of jean shorts and a pair of jeans, just in case. She passed over the more tight, bodycon dresses, knowing those were things Santana wouldn't be interested in at the moment, before standing up to deposit the new pile on the bed.

Lastly, she pulled a few tops, t-shirts with sleeves, and a few tank tops, although she knew Santana wouldn't feel as comfortable in them as the t-shirts. Dropping these on the bed, she climbed up on the bed herself, still in just her bra and underwear, beginning to arrange the clothes in a row, pairing up tops and shorts where needed to come up with five or six outfits. "See?" She said as she worked, "All of these are summery, but they're different like...levels and stuff, and all of these dresses have adjustable straps in case you want to make them longer or have them cover your boobs more," She rambled before she sat back, satisfied, her gaze coming up to meet Santana's eyes.

"You don't have to wear any of these out," She reminded softly. "We can just try them on here, where it's just me, and see what kind of things you like and talk about why you don't like certain things." Brittany shrugged. "If we have to, we can go shopping, that could be fun," She suggested lightly, although she knew Santana would probably rule out the idea of getting undressed in a changing room, even if Brittany was there.

Santana's lips curved up in an automatic smile at Brittany's kiss and words of love, her anxious expression softening somewhat as she watched Brittany sort through their clothes. She assessed the clothing choices carefully, unsure how she felt about them, because each of them were more revealing than she was used to wearing on a daily basis in public.

She listened to Brittany reassure her that she didn't have to wear any of the outfits outside, knowing she would never push her to do that, and nodded slightly, biting her lip as she considered the possibility of shopping. That felt a little overwhelming to her, having to consider sizes and be around people and undressing in a changing room, in public, under bright lights and unflattering mirrors, with strangers nearby. Since that option was far less desirable, she quickly reached for the closest outfit, which happened to be a loose blouse of Brittany's with a pair of jeans. She let her towel drop, going to their shared dresser for underwear and a sports bra, then slid into them. She was relieved that the jeans were still looser than the last time she had worn them, and the top was also loose, but made of thin, lightweight material. She considered how she felt, going to the dresser to look at herself in the mirror. It didn't look...naked. It was sort of okay.

"This is kind of okay," she repeated aloud to Brittany. "I guess this one maybe would work."

Shimmying out of the jeans and pulling the shirt over her head, she tried on the next outfit, a knee length skirt and shirt that matched with it. Although it was modest, Santana immediately felt uncomfortable. "No. I don't like it."

Brittany grinned encouragingly as Santana tried on the first outfit, not surprised she was going for the safest option, handing her the blouse. For the most part, Brittany stayed silent, letting Santana process how she felt before chiming in. She looked beautiful, as she always did, the close noticeably loose on her frame. Although the outfit would probably still be fairly hot to wear in the summer, it was definitely an improvement from wearing an entire hoodie out.

"I think it looks good," Brittany agreed when Santana voiced her hesitant acceptance of the outfit. "It's a good step, it's probably going to feel better than a hoodie and you're still pretty covered," She observed, stressing the fact that a step was a good thing. So often Santana wanted to jump to the end of healing, expecting herself to be totally okay with something or holding herself to impossibly high standards, Brittany having to constantly remind her that a step in the right direction was a big deal, no matter how small or miniscule. She knew for Santana, she was often blind to her own progress, and Brittany was eager to emphasize to her just how far she'd come in the last few weeks and months, even if her latest progress was small.

Brittany handed Santana the next outfit as she kicked the jeans off her legs, watching her slide into the skirt and top. Brittany was used to seeing Santana's body constantly, seeing her bare legs, but seeing her bare legs in an outfit was something that she hadn't witnessed in years. Her beauty was still there, but she was noticeably skinnier, and it was clear to Brittany from her body language that she was also noticeably uncomfortable in this new outfit, her lower legs exposed. "Okay," Brittany said simply, swinging her legs over so she was sitting on the edge of the bed. "You don't have to wear it out," Brittany promised, reaching for Santana, tugging her to her by the arm, so Santana was standing between Brittany's knees.

"You decided that really fast," She observed, her voice curious, not accusatory. "Is it because of your legs? Because it's a skirt?" Brittany wondered, trying to use clues based on what they'd just discussed. "Would you like it more if you had shorts on underneath? I have pairs of dance shorts you could wear." She pointed out, interested to see if that would make Santana feel any more comfortable in what she was wearing.

Santana had fussed with the blouse of the first outfit; it was meant to be worn lower down on her shoulders than she wanted, partially showing her collar bone, and she pulled it up higher before she was somewhat satisfied. She also checked in the mirror how tight the jeans were across her butt, unashamed to do this in front of Brittany. Accepting her encouragement, she nevertheless was relieved when Brittany pulled her close against her in the skirt, coming to stand in between her legs. She leaned back against Brittany's chest, fighting the urge to kick out of the skirt and trying to answer her question.

"Because it's a skirt," she said softly, pressing her legs together without quite realizing she was doing it between Brittany's so that her thighs touched together as much as possible- keeping herself closed off, and therefore safer. "I don't like wearing skirts anymore."

Skirts and dresses used to be what Santana mostly preferred, even in the winter. She had gotten used to it as a cheerleader, being required to wear the uniform, and so wearing jeans or pants had come to feel strange to her after a while, almost restrictive. Now it was what felt safe.

She considered Brittany's suggestion, unsure. Wearing shorts underneath could possibly help, but then why wear the skirt at all?

"But if I have shorts on underneath I might as well just wear shorts," Santana thought aloud to Brittany. "That seems silly to do that just to feel better about the skirt."

Wiggling away from her, she did consider it though. Maybe, if she really was hot one day, it could be an option. After all, the skirt was definitely looser than the dance shorts would be on their own. Santana knew she wouldn't dare wear tight, form fitting shorts without anything over them in public.

She tried on a few more outfits- a t-shirt with loose shorts, a jumper-like outfit that was loose, flowy, but sleeveless, and a tank top with jeans. There was something about all of them that made her uncomfortable, but she was starting to think that maybe she could also work with each of them, modify them to feel a little better. Maybe not today, but one day.

Her eyes followed Santana's closely, trying to pick up on the insignificant details of each outfit that mattered to Santana, wanting to understand her thought process and how she felt about each of them in turn. As she held her briefly, she felt Santana's muscles relax against her body, melting into her frame, the stress from trying on these outfits bleeding out of her body. "It is a skirt," Brittany repeated, "And it's just the same as wearing pants. Nobody will touch you or try to reach up your skirt," She reminded softly, knowing that was something that was at the forefront of Santana's mind in an outfit like this. She knew logically, the chances were very low- she was always with Santana, and they hardly ever were in an area that would be considered "unsafe" and were mainly out during the daytime. She knew New York City was a mixed bag and there were some unsafe people out there, but she didn't want Santana's clothes to make her constantly feel like that.

"I mean, sometimes I used to wear dresses with shorts underneath, like in high school or if we were going to the park and I wanted to sit down cross legged without anyone seeing my underwear," She said with a shrug. "Sometimes it's still just cooler to wear a dress, but I guess it's the same," She said, ultimately agreeing with Santana. "It just might help if you actually wanted to wear a dress," Brittany explained, knowing the days of Santana caring about fashion were far behind them, but wanting her to be able to do something as inconsequential as picking out an outfit she felt good in.

She let Santana out of her arms to keep trying things on, nodding encouragingly when Santana cast her eyes to Brittany, weary and occasionally needing reassurance about a particular outfit choice. For the most part, she let Santana fiddle with the clothes, adjusting them to how she felt most comfortable, making sure she was covered up as much as possible in each piece. Finally, when she was done, both of them clad in their bras and underwear, Brittany pulled her to her again, this time front to front. "See? That wasn't soooo bad," She mumbled against Santana's mouth, pressing a chaste kiss to her lips. "Although this is my favorite outfit," She giggled, referring to the fact that Santana was wearing nearly nothing.

Santana swallowed, trying to take in and process Brittany's reassurance and whether she believed they were true. She knew that clothes were clothes, but to her, they carried more weight, just as skin did. But Brittany's reasoning also made sense. What if she had an occasion where she needed to wear a dress for some reason? Wearing shorts under could be an option.

By the time she has finished trying on clothes and deciding how she feels about them, Santana is tired from the mental effort. She relaxed with relief against Brittany as Brittany pulled her close to her, closing her eyes and lightly returning the kiss. Giggling at Brittany's remark about her favorite outfit being her current lack of one, she looked up into her face.

"Yeah, not surprised. I think I like yours best too."

She traced a finger down Brittany's neck slowly, lightly, designed to tantalize, and then over the curve of her shoulder and across her upper chest. Pressing a kiss to Brittany's collar bone, she looked up at her through her eyelashes, watching her response.

Brittany grinned plainly at her when she confirmed that she liked Brittany best in her underwear too. In high school, Santana would've never made a statement like that, maybe not even in the Fall when Brittany had come back, and it made her stomach flutter that they'd come so far, not only from their teenage selves, but also since Brittany had come back to New York. For coming back blindly, not knowing what to expect and surprising Santana with her very presence,

As always, Santana's skin felt a few degrees warmer against her on, only serving to make Brittany shiver in pleasure as they kissed, sweetly and gently, but still making Brittany dizzy with a head rush of love for her. As Santana gazed at her, she threaded a hand through the hair at the base of Santana's skull tenderly as Santana stood between her legs where she sat on the bed, their toros pressed together, Brittany's skin alight where she was pressed against Santana's warmth.

She shivered again when Santana ghosted a finger down her neck, her lips parting as she exhaled abruptly, feeling Santana's finger trace lower, across the top of her chest. The moment Santana's lips connected with her collar bone, Brittany's head tilted back, allowing her further access, her hand still threaded through the hair at the base of Santana's skull. They had just been making out in the shower, which was common for them, but it wasn't something that always continued on afterwards, and usually something Brittany waited for Santana's signal on, now that they were hanging in the in between of having already had sex and the door was open for that to happen, although Brittany knew it wasn't a linear path upwards and always waited a beat to make sure Santana was comfortable with where they were at, even if it was something as simple as making out.

Santana smiled against Brittany's warm skin as she felt her shiver, enjoying the affect that her words and touch have on the other woman. It makes her feel powerful, strong, and in control in a way that savors, but not in a way that feels negative to Brittany. She knows that Brittany enjoys this as much as she does, that she is always open to Santana showing affection, however that might be. Brittany seems to especially love it when Santana makes the first move, and she almost always waits for her to.

Santana groaned softly as Brittany took a fistful of her hair in her hand, her scalp tingling pleasurably. She let her head roll back briefly, closing her eyes, before moving forward to lower her mouth back to Brittany's chest. Slowly, she trailed her lips across the tops of her breasts, just an inch above where her bra began. One hand ghosted up Brittany's spine, splaying between her shoulder blades, and the other moved to cup her face gently, her thumb stroking Brittany's cheek.

She could feel her heart beginning to pound faster and her body thrum with excitement. She settled more closely between Brittany's legs, pressing herself more firmly against her.

Brittany felt Santana smile against her skin, feeling how calm her muscles were against her. She knew if Santana was nervous or uncertain about what they were doing, Brittany would be able to feel it, but all she felt was desire, maybe even confidence radiating from Santana. It made things even more pleasurable for her, knowing Santana was comfortable and there wasn't any doubt or second guessing on her part, at least not yet.

Her groan shot heat straight to Brittany's core, and Brittany had to stifle her own groan when Santana returned her lips to her chest, dragging her mouth over the swell that was the tops of Brittany's breasts. She felt her other hand crawling up the skin of her back, securely placing her palm between her shoulder blades as Santana's thumb smoothed against her cheekbone. Brittany's breath stuttered when Santana pressed herself closer, feeling the way Santana's heart was hammering itself against her chest, smiling as she picked her head back up from where she'd tipped it back.

"Come up on the bed," Brittany said, her voice throaty. As much as she loved what they were doing, their position with Brittany sitting on the edge of the bed and Santana standing up wasn't the most optimal position to take things further. Brittany wasn't even certain they would take things further, all she knew is that she wanted more of Santana and wanted to feel the weight of her body against her. She pushed herself back, pushing the pile of clothes to the side without really caring if they fell off the bed or not, settling herself back against the pillows.

Santana herself shivered at the sultry timbre of Brittany's voice addressing her. She watched Brittany settle herself onto her back on the bed, partly propped up on her elbows, and the way her blue eyes seemed darker with her desire as she gazed up at Santana. Her own eyes glinted with the enjoyment of the moment, and she inched herself forward with deliberate slowness, letting her body make gradual, purposeful contact with Brittany's.

Lowering herself over Brittany's body, she settled over her, reveling in the skin to skin contact more fully flush against hers. She straddled her hips, running her hands up and down Brittany's biceps, and her still damp hair moved forward, brushing over the tops of Brittany's breasts and tickling the sides of her arms as she leaned down to kiss her. Her inner thighs clinched, unconsciously gripping Brittany more tightly against her legs, and a surge of arousal spiked to her core.

"Brittany," she whispered, breathless, her lips still against Brittany's own, and she kissed her again, deeper, hungrier, her hands finally settling to further ground herself by grasping Brittany's shoulders.

She's made out with Brittany in the showers, but they haven't yet made it this far while on a bed, with this little clothing between them, on more than one or two occasions. And yet she doesn't yet feel a flicker of anxiety.

Her eyes never left Santana's, holding her gaze as she pushed herself back on the bed and against the pillows, opening her arms for Santana to settle against her, obeying their unspoken rule of Brittany being on the bottom now. While kissing and touching and making love to Santana was obviously different now and required more thought, in a way, it had become almost natural to them at this point, effortless for Brittany to handle Santana with care just like she did in every other aspect of their everyday life. They'd talked about it a few times, what could be done to make Santana more comfortable, and, Brittany had realized afterwards, it wasn't just sex that changed, it had been everything about their lives when Brittany had come back. The issue had been not that sex had changed, but their approach had been the same as it had before, while every other part of their life was different. When she followed her instinct more than her habits, it wasn't so different at all.

Brittany's chest was heaving as Santana lowered herself over her, almost torturously slowly, her legs straddling Brittany's hips in a way that was so fucking hot. She was grateful Santana kissed her right then, Brittany returning the kiss hungrily, threading her hand back through Santana's damp hair while her other hand came up to rest on the side of Santana's ribs. When she felt Santana's legs squeeze around her she whimpered into her mouth, Brittany's hips bucking up against Santana as she tightened the hand that was in Santana's hair, kissing her even more desperately, as if it would never be enough.

When they broke apart, chests heaving for breath, Brittany smiled at that sound of her own name, meeting Santana's eyes, bringing her hand from the base of Santana's neck to tuck her hair behind her ear. "Hi," She murmured, leaning up to press a soft, close mouthed kiss against Santana's lips. When she pulled away, she searched Santana's eyes, checking on her silently, making sure she was okay while also knowing that if she wasn't, Santana would tell her.

"Do you want to keep going?" She asked simply, wanting to make sure Santana wanted to do more. Kissing was one thing, but anything else was fairly new to them now, and they'd been slow to introduce other things. She began trailing both hands up and down Santana's sides, her fingertips just barely grazing her skin, tickling over her ribs and back down to the swell of her hips. "Because if you do," She began with a grin, "You should totally feel free to take my bra off," Brittany giggled, pressing her face to the skin of Santana's neck. She stayed there for a moment until she began to move, her lips pressing slow, open mouth kisses against the delicate skin of Santana's throat.

Santana's ribs expanded and contracted with her quick breathing against Brittany's splayed hand, and she let one hand slide down as Brittany bucked, grasping hold of her hip. Her thumb rubbed the ball of her hipbone, teasing down the side of her underwear.

"Hi," she whispered back, her words breathless as Brittany kissed her again, softer, and she kissed her again in response to the wordless question in Brittany's eyes. Several times in a row she kissed her, each short, firm, and an answer. Yes, she was okay. Yes, she liked this. Yes, this was still safe, still enjoyed, still wanted.

"Yes," she finally said aloud, the words a whisper but sure, and she shivered at Brittany's feather light touch, writhing over her and pushing only half heartedly at her hands, breaking into a grin. Her smile stilled with Brittany's mouth against her neck, and she arched her throat, letting Brittany have greater access.

Pushing lightly at Brittany, eager now for her own turn, she fumbled to remove Brittany's bra, kissing first one nipple, then the next. With her the hand still resting on Brittany's hip, she began to slide her underwear down, little by little.

Brittany smiled into each little kiss, knowing Santana was reassuring her that she was okay, a role they both played interchangeably at any point. There were times when Brittany sensed Santana's discomfort or anxiousness and readily reassured her that she was there, that Santana as okay, and that she loved her. Similarly, in moments where Brittany stopped to check in on her, to make sure she was okay, Santana was the one who reassured her, whether that be a gentle squeeze, a few kisses, like right then, or simply eye contact, a wordless conversation passing between them.

"Good," Brittany breathed, her mouth against Santana's throat, continuing to drag wet kisses against her skin, grinning when Santana tilt her head up, giving her more space to work. For both of them, their throats were incredibly sensitive and they'd both spent a wealth of time kissing each other's necks in high school, usually resulting in hickeys that they had to cover up in the girls' bathroom between Cheerios and Glee. Brittany grinned at the memories of them making out in one of their bedrooms after school, in their cars after practice or even in the locker room when they waited for everyone to clear out.

When Santana threaded her hands behind Brittany's back she lifted herself upa little, giving Santana space to unhook the clasp of her bra, letting her pull it off of her arms and discard it on the floor as she settled back down against the pillows, her heartbeat pounding between her legs. As Santana dipped her head down to kiss Brittany's breasts she moaned, throwing her head back against the pillows with a breathy "Oh my God," her hands stilled against Santana's ribs as pleasure coursed its way through her. It only took her a moment to register what Santana was doing when she tugged on her underwear, and Brittany lifted her hips to help her, her eyes screwed shut in pleasure as Santana slid her underwear down her legs.

Sucking in a deep breath, Brittany longed to feel Santana's mouth against hers again, moving one of her hands from Santana's side up to the back of her head, guiding her up so she could kiss her, sucking on her bottom lip gently. Brittany was now fully naked, which usually happened before Santana took any of her clothes off, if she did at all, and she could fill Santana's body taught with arousal as she rolled against Brittany. Breaking away to gasp for air finally, Brittany took a moment to catch her breath before she spoke. "I want to take your bra off. Can I?" Her voice, as always, was simple, direct. She usually either narrated what she was doing or asked Santana before she did it, wanting Santana to know what came next without scaring her or catching her off guard in an already-vulnerable situation.

As Brittany's body lay beneath her, bare and beautiful, Santana stroked her hand slowly down the length of her spine, lightly dragging her nails so Brittany's back would arch in reaction. She let her hand continue its caress, cupping one buttock and squeezing, gentle, then firmer, aware of her breathing kicking up another notch in pace. Her heartbeat rose close to her throat with growing arousal, and her underwear was already damp as she let her head slip down lower, dipping her tongue into the inner slope of Brittany's navel.

She felt Brittany's hands fumble for her, drawing her back up her body, and willingly let her pull her, reconnecting with her mouth. Her body is tense not with anxiety but with her growing energy of the moment as she let Brittany guide the kiss, her body pressing fully over the warm expanse of her. When Brittany broke the kiss, Santana only allowed it to suck in a breath, reaching back for her face immediately, wanting no break in connection. Still, as Brittany checked in with her, she registered the question and paused.

"Yes."

The answer came to her quickly, without hesitation, and she sat up slightly while still straddling her, lifting her arms a little to give Brittany better access to remove her bra. This was a first in a sexual encounter, and although she felt a faint shiver of nerves, she kept her eyes on Brittany, trusting, ready.

Brittany felt her entire body arch up as Santana's tongue slid against her stomach, every nerve alight as she gave in to all the things Santana was doing to her body, the way her hair fell across Brittany's abdomen when she ducked her head, the feeling of her nails gently scratching down her spine to cup her butt. There was an underlying trust in what Santana was doing, a confidence that was there in all of her movements that made her actions that much hotter, causing Brittany's insides to melt. This was the exact opposite of the frantic lovemaking that had punctuated the younger years of their lives. They were both aroused but in control, confident and sure of their actions, moving at a steady pace that was almost torturous.

She wondered if they'd fumble when she asked Santana about taking her bra off. Half of her expected her to say no instantly, prepared to gloss over the moment, determined not to make Santana feel uncomfortable and wanting her to respect her own boundaries. She smiled when Santana automatically reached for her face again, her eyes trained on Santana's features when she paused, waiting for a flicker of uncertainty or unwillingness. Instead, Santana answered almost instantly, agreeing to let Brittany take her bra off, shocking Brittany unexpectedly. Brittany hadn't anticipated being surprised, her face breaking out in a grin as she leaned up to kiss her, offering silent reassurance.

When Santana sat up a little, Brittany did too, sitting up with Santana still straddling her lap, not jumping to take her bra off, not wanting to startle her or move too quickly. Instead, she kissed her again, her mouth tender, gentle, worshipping, kissing her slowly and delicately before she brought her hands up Santana's back equally slowly, always keeping her hands on Santana in some way so Santana knew where Brittany was going to touch. "I love you," She murmured, pressing her forehead against Santana's as she rested her hands on Santana's shoulders, pushing her bra straps down so they hung loose down her arms. Next, she slid her arms back along Santana's ribs, her fingertips grazing the latch of her bra, deftly unhooking it so her bra came loose.

Brittany had seen Santana's breasts hundreds of times and every day when they showered but this, this was somehow different, a hundred times more intimate and special because they weren't naked to take a shower or naked to get dressed, they were naked to be with each other and Santana was letting Brittany undress her and letting her look. Sliding the bra down Santana's arms, Brittany discarded it to the side, pressing her mouth to Santana's again, their bare chests pressed up against each other, warmth against warmth, smooth against smooth.

Santana noticed each small gesture of response that Brittany gave her to her actions, relishing the impact she has on her, the increased control and power it gives her. She loves being the one to make Brittany feel this way, the one to make her gasp and clinch and beam, all for her. She loves Brittany, and she loves seeing how much Brittany loves her and her every touch in return.

When Brittany grins in answer to Santana's assent of removing her bra, giving her a quick kiss almost in thanks, Santana smiles back, almost absurdly proud of herself. Brittany's touch is gentle, almost reverent, and it makes Santana feel continuedly confident and safe in a way that Brittany always does so instinctually. Santana feels a tingle down her spine again as Brittany moves slowly to take off her bra, touching her lightly, assuredly, always checking, making sure she's okay. God, it makes her love her even more, how every move, no matter how small it seems, is huge in showing its love for her. Santana is so damn lucky to have Brittany Susan Pierce as the person in all the world to choose her to be hers.

Santana lets her fully body come to rest against Brittany's, her heartbeat evening out into a rhythm almost matching Santana's. Quicker at first, it slowed eventually until she felt calm enough to begin once more to stroke her hand over Brittany's face and neck, adding punctuating kisses. Her other hand, wrapped around Brittany's side, slowly moved over her bare hip.

"Maybe I can try taking my panties off," she murmured."

Brittany held Santana against her, reverent, worshipping her, hardly able to believe that Santana was so willing to take steps forward, even after everything that had happened. Santana continued to amaze her, showing Brittany her strength, somehow always being even braver and stronger than Brittany could ever believe, although Santana was already the bravest person Brittany knew by far. Feeling Santana's breasts pressed against her own was intoxicating, a feeling that set off every nerve in her body and strummed a chord deep and low in Brittany.

"You're beautiful," Brittany mumbled, hardly having to even really consider saying it. "You're the most perfect thing I've ever had," She said, because Santana was perfect, and Santana was hers and nobody else's, and it was maybe the one time that Brittany had no problem being selfish. Santana was hers alone to protect and love and worship, and in Brittany's eyes, it was the highest honor. She knew it every day, but even more now, in moments like this, in moment that Brittany knew were especially for her, that Santana was hers and she would do anything to protect her, to treasure her.

She hummed in pleasure when Santana began stroking her face, her own hand skating up to rest on Santana's ribs, her thumb gently grazing the underside of her breast, her strokes slow and light. Feeling the soft, tender skin of Santana's breasts nearly made Brittany want to cry- Santana was trusting her with every sacred part of her, and Brittany could not believe that out of all people in the world, she was the one who was able to experience this. She smiled into each of Santana's soft, repeated kisses, trying to make each one linger just a little bit more than the last, savoring the pillowy-soft feeling of Santana's mouth on hers.

Brittany had been about to lay back, pulling Santana with her with the intention of moving her mouth lower to Santana's chest, but when Santana spoke, she froze, pulling away and inch to look at Santana in the eyes, wanting to see her, blinking, searching every depth of Santana's eyes. "Are you sure?" Brittany asked, her hand still now, not wanting to distract her. Taking off her bra was one thing, but taking off her panties was another. In the past, they never would've paused to have a conversation during sex, but, as with everything, this was a new, grown version of themselves, and Brittany, more than ever, wanted Santana to feel safe and loved.

She thought about it too, her gaze fixed on Santana's. She didn't want to overwhelm her, but she also knew part of helping Santana make decisions and decide what felt good was communicating what she wanted to do too. "I-I want to touch you." Brittany said softly. "Not just your boobs, I want to make you feel good," She clarified. "And I won't do it if you don't want me to, and you can use my leg if you want to also, but I want to try, if you'll let me." Brittany explained, knowing she was babbling, a nervous flush rising in her cheeks when she realized just how much she wanted to make Santana feel good. "So I wanted to tell you that before you decided to take your panties off, in case that makes a difference," She concluded, not sure if it did make any sort of difference, but wanting Santana to be as informed and in control as possible.

Her skin flushed with the feeling of being so close against the soft, warm expanse of Brittany's body, intimate, secure and safe against every part of her. She felt not only held, but seen, understood, cherished by Brittany, and it was because of this that Santana could continue.

"You're beautiful," Santana repeated Brittany's words with fervent sincerity. "The most beautiful."

She swallowed, taking in Brittany's uncertain response to her, and took a slow, steadying breath, her breasts moving gently against Brittany's, aware of both their heartbeats. She reached for Brittany's hand, entwining it in hers, and squeezed, eyes locked on Brittany as she nodded.

"I...I want you to touch me," she decided, giving a small nod, then following it with a more firm one. "I want it to be you. I want to try."

She paused, then rethought, adding, "Just...let me be the one to take them off."

Rolling to Brittany's side, briefly breaking the full body contact but keeping her hip and shoulder pressed close, Santana took another breath, heart now rising to her throat, and grounded herself quickly with the reassuring weight and warmth of Brittany against her side. Brittany, who would never hurt her. Brittany, who would always protect her. Brittany, who she loved.

With this in her mind firmly, she slipped out of her underwear, slowly but determined, and then rolled to face Brittany, not quite on her, but bare to her, vulnerable, but trying hard to shrug off any lingering fears.

"Hi," she softly repeated Brittany's earlier words, but they held more meaning. Hi, this is me, all of me, trying so hard. This is a new step, a new level. This is a new accomplishment, as small to any outsider as it may seem. Hi.

Brittany grinned, nudging her nose against Santana's cheek tenderly when she returned the compliment of her beauty, inhaling the soft scent of Santana's skin, a gesture so intimate and yet completely unrelated to anything sexual. Her heart was thundering in her chest, partly from what she had just said, partially because Santana was still straddling her lap and they were sitting chest to chest, their breasts grazing each others as they breathed. Her arms were around Santana's ribs, holding her tenderly against her, both of them keenly aware of how sacred and deep the moment was. With her face just inches apart from Santana's she heard her swallow the lump in her throat, a few tender moments of silence passing between them as Santana considered what Brittany had said. As she waited, she stroked the skin of Santana's back gently.

When Santana did speak, deciding that she did want Brittany to touch her, Brittany kept her face neutral, her expression calm, but it felt like fireworks were erupting in her chest and she had that feeling like her lungs were too big to fit inside her body, every part of her swelling like a balloon with the joy, the nerves, the weight of Santana's decision. She'd had no idea what Santana would say, if she'd back away from the idea or even entertain it. They'd already made significant growth in their love making with Santana leaning into her own body and finding ways to pleasure herself against Brittany's leg, letting herself feel good without Brittany directly touching her. Brittany remembered how shocked she'd been even that very first time, stunned by Santana giving into her body's wants and allowing herself to fall over the edge.

"Okay," Brittany said softly, breathily, even though her heart felt like a hundred butterflies flitting around her ribcage. She followed Santana's lead, laying back while she rolled off of her, settling herself against the pillows beside Santana. She felt Santana hesitate and propped herself up on the arm nearest Santana, leaning on her side next to her and placing her free hand on Santana's ribs, just below her breasts, a comforting solidity. She could feel Santana's chest heaving underneath her hand, knowing she was working up the courage to take her underwear off and letting her, waiting beside her until Santana bent her legs up and hooker her hands into the waistband of her panties, dragging them down her legs.

She stayed still until Santana moved again, rolling onto her back as Santana rolled toward her, leaning against the side of her body, both of them fully bare for the very first time. "Hi," Brittany said back steadily, her voice calm and sure, meeting Santana halfway, showing her she understood everything Santana was saying with that one simple word, absorbing her nerves and fears and uncertainty, silently promising her she would catch her. She always caught her.

"Get on top of me," Brittany instructed softly, placing her hand on Santana's side, helping her swing her leg over so that she was straddling Brittany again. Santana didn't look scared, but she did look a little skittish, a little lost, and so Brittany stepped in gently to guide her. With Santana hovering over her body, her palm next to Brittany's head, Brittany let her hands trail up the outsides of Santana's legs and up the side of her body until she could weave her fingers through Santana's hair. "It's okay, just kiss me" She murmured, pressing her lips to her. "I'm not going to touch you yet, you'll know," She mumbled against Santana's mouth, wanting Santana to get used to the feeling of being entirely exposed. She moved slowly, kissing Santana tenderly before her mouth ventured downward, across her jaw, back down her throat, across her collarbone and the tops of her breasts until she had finally slid low enough underneath her to wrap her lips around one of Santana's nipples, one of her hands coming to cup Santana's other breast, kneading softly as her mouth nipped and sucked.

Brittany's response was soft, comforting in its neutrality, although Santana could tell that she was excited in spite of her expression indicating continued calm and steadiness. Santana knew her far too well to believe that Brittany was not doing cartwheels of pride and happiness for her efforts inside. She could see it in the way her eyes glowed, could feel it in the soothing pressure of her hand against her ribs as Santana undressed.

Santana understood Brittany's answering greeting echoed back for what it was, a continued understanding and reassurance, a promise that went past her actual words. It was a call and response that steadied her further, and as Brittany spoke again, encouraging Santana to slide back onto her body, Santana took another breath, then let Brittany help her, let her give her further encouragement. For just a few moments, she needed it. For just a few moments, she felt like she didn't know what came next, like she had forgotten what it felt like to move naturally and with instinct, in this new and unexplored way of sexual and intimate engagement.

Brittany understood, like she so often seemed to, and helped, rubbing her sides and drawing her down to kiss her, fingers reassuringly twined through her hair. The touch helped, and Santana's heartbeat slowed as she let herself be drawn down over Brittany again to kiss her. As Brittany's mouth traveled, one hand still wrapped in her hair, Santana's skin flushed and felt like it was immediately flaming throughout her core at Brittany's attentions. By the time Brittany began to stroke her breast and suck her nipple, Santana was already rocking against her automatically, one hand braced against the bed to hold herself steady, the other grasping Brittany's shoulder as she moaned aloud, eyes closed, head thrown back.

Brittany was in her own personal euphoria as she wriggled underneath Santana, rolling her tongue against the ball of Santana's nipple as she continued to gently massage her other breast, being sure to pay attention to both. She knew Santana's boobs were incredibly sensitive, and they'd always been one of Brittany's favorite parts about her, and she loved playing with Santana's breasts and making her feel good. It had been so long since she'd touched Santana's breasts in a sexual way and she was extra attentive, switching over to suck on her other breast while her other hand came up to cup the one she had just had her mouth on.

Almost instantly, she felt the tension bleed out of Santana's body as she responded to Brittany's touches and her mouth. She felt the way Santana's body rocked above her, her hand holding tight to her shoulder as she moved. Brittany's free hand came to rest on Santana's hip as she continued to work underneath her, winding herself up in the process of building Santana up higher. She took her nipple between her teeth gently, not applying any pressure, running her tongue across as much of Santana's skin as she could. The sound of Santana moaning above her sent a flash of heat throughout her body and for a moment Brittany was nearly dizzy with arousal, her hips canting upwards towards Santana's, her grip on her hip tightening. "Holy shit," Brittany mumbled against the skin of Santana's breast, her chest heaving.

She needed to touch her, to give Santana that and make her feel good, and she knew if she kept up what she was doing they both wouldn't last very much longer. Already she wanted to shift her legs underneath Santana so that one of Santana's legs were in between her own and vice versa so they could rock against each other more effectively but she held off, instead taking her mouth off Santana's breast and sliding back up towards the pillows, closer to Santana's face. She took a second to catch her breath, trying not to concentrate on how Santana was writhing over her, instead letting her hands come back up to touch Santana's face, tilting her head toward her to she could look into her eyes. She didn't want to break the moment or the rhythm they had, but she would never touch Santana and catch her off guard, no matter how in sync they were.

"Open your eyes," She husked, waiting for Santana to do so before she continued. "I'm going to touch you now," She murmured, keeping one hand on her face as the other trailed down, stroking Santana's inner thigh, low down on her leg towards her knee. "And if it doesn't feel good or you want me to stop-," Brittany paused, connecting their lips and speaking her next words into Santana's mouth, "-Then you'll tell me and I'll stop." She instructed, giving Santana full control and reminding her that she had it. "But I'm going to make you feel good," She whispered breathily, "Because I love you and I'd never hurt you. Do you trust me?" As she was speaking, she was tickling her way up Santana's thigh toward her center, aware of how heavy they both were breathing. Brittany simultaneously felt terrified but also as if she'd never been more alive, pressing her lips to Santana's as her fingers finally slipped through her.

Brittany always knew exactly how to touch her, exactly where how to make Santana writhe and arch and gasp for breath from sheer ecstasy of the rhythm and pressure of her fingers and tongue. Santana was almost panting, nipples hard in response to Brittany. The hand on Brittany's shoulder began to slide down her back, nails digging lightly into Brittany's skin to scratch down her spine. When Brittany spoke aloud a breathless curse, Santana's hips rocked upward in wordless answer, her entire body shuddering as she built to a breaking point- already. How could Brittany do this to her, just by barely touching her breasts? How could this already be so damn hot she felt electric with the thrill of it?

When Brittany slid off of Santana's nipple, sliding up her body and cupping her face to catch her gaze, Santana whined, her body automatically arching up in effort to stop her, hands grasping at her to try to pull her back down. She paused though when Brittany told her to open her eyes, recognizing the seriousness of the moment. Even through staggered breaths and pounding heartbeat, she tried to hold herself still, to center and focus on Brittany- to focus on herself and her body.

Brittany was going to touch her. This was it. This was the moment they had danced around and avoided for so long now, the moment Santana had been sure at one point would never happen again- that she couldn't stand to happen again. This was happening, and she wanted it desperately. She needed it. And although she carried some slight anxiety from the anticipation and the heaviness of its meaning for it to happen, she was not afraid.

Eyes locked on Brittany's, Santana's chest heaved as Brittany's hand slid up her thigh. She nodded, faintly at first, then firm, her voice a gasp that nevertheless rang true, solid.

"Yes. Yes, I trust you. Yes…"

When Brittany's fingers slid inside her, Santana's eyes widened, and she sucked in her breath, the hand on Brittany's back pressing down hard, bracing herself with the shock of pleasure that sparked through her core. She felt the connection between them that had always been there, always strong even through distance, even through hurt and fear and anger, build up until she felt it like a physical presence over her, bringing her more alive and attached to Brittany, more fully hers, than ever before.

"Don't stop," she pleaded, eyes still on Brittany's, hooded and dark with emotion. "Please…"

Brittany arched her back, moaning as Santana scratched down her spine, her hips canting up in response to the way Santana's rocked down against her. She could feel the shivers of pleasure rolling through Santana, only making it more difficult to concentrate on what she actually wanted to do and how she wanted to make Santana feel. She knew if they just shifted their legs, they both could get off hard and fast against each other, but she didn't want that. She wanted to touch her.

She thought Santana may have been too lost in pleasure to hear her command, about to open her mouth and repeat herself when Santana opened her eyes, her gaze clear and hard, staring right into Brittany's eyes, centering her in the moment. Even in the height of her arousal, Santana was focused directly on Brittany, automatically listening to what she said without having to even think of it. Brittany felt her heart thump as they held eye contact, both of them nearly gasping for breath, partially from arousal and partially from the weight of what they both knew was about to happen. It felt like the entire world had stopped-all that was there was the two of them and that moment, the only sound in the room the sound of their gasping breaths.

Brittany held perfect still, waiting until Santana nodded, voicing her trust, to connect her fingers to her center, brushing through her. She gasped at how turned on Santana was, how wet she felt, and, above all, the fact that she was letting her touch her at all. She felt her hand firm on the middle of Brittany's back, pressed between Brittany's back and the mattress, holding on tight. Brittany's freehand moved to thread through Santana's hair behind her ear, holding her face there, inches from hers, their eyes never leaving each others. Brittany's fingers were soft and slow, mapping every inch of Santana's core, the wet, velvet warmth that she hadn't touched in years, that no one had touched in a year. It felt almost sacred, the fact that Santana was letting her to this, that she so willingly voiced her consent, and through her arousal, Brittany felt tears prickle in her eyes,

When Santana spoke, her voice was throaty, pleading, her eyes hooded and begging, and Brittany realized just how much this mattered, how much Santana needed to feel this and needed this to work- desperately needing Brittany to make her feel good and whole and okay. Brittany knew that their failed sex attempts in the past bothered Santana more than they bothered her, and she knew Santana wanted nothing more than to feel good from Brittany's touches, than to be validated that she could feel good when Brittany touched her and this wasn't something her attacker had taken away from her. Her voice had an edge of pleading, and it strengthened Brittany's resolve in that moment as well as her love for her.

"I'm right here," She responded, her voice soft and strong as her hand continued to move between her legs. She continued to stroke her hand through Santana's lips, exploring the length of her while not venturing too close to her opening- even as much as Santana was letting her touch her, Brittany didn't want to slip her fingers inside of her, to trigger her or catch her off guard when she was already letting Santana do so much. "I've got you Babe," She promised as her hand moved a little higher, her middle finger beginning to circle Santana's clit, slowly and gently at first before gradually moving in tighter circles.

For Santana too, the world had gone still on its axis, pausing in a perfect moment of raw clarity for her and Brittany alone. She held Brittany's gaze, trusting her, feeling Brittany's every emotion through her expression and her touch, as though she and Brittany had become one with each other already.

As Brittany's fingers brushed against her, Santana's muscles clinched, and she canted upward against her hand, wanting more contact, needing it. She sucked in her breath with an audible hiss as Brittany's fingers touched her on the outer lips of her vagina, already desperately aroused even from this relatively mild contact. The hand on Brittany's back pressed harder, grounding herself with the solid warm of her, and she actually whimpered when Brittany spoke, her fingers exploring her without quite entering her. Brittany's words only made her feel more intensely if possible than she had before, and when they were followed by her beginning to finger her clit, Santana's entire body bucked upward, and she released a lusty cry aloud.

"Please, please," she gasped, and her hand moved to cover Brittany's, her fingers shaking but nevertheless sure as she caught her gaze. "I need...I need...more. Touch me more. Touch me inside."

Sensing Brittany's need to have more assurance that she was okay, she squeezed Brittany's fingers, guiding their tips just a slight bit inside herself.

"It's okay. I'm okay. Please..."

Brittany was completely enamored by how Santana was moving in response to her ministrations, her body entirely ruled by her desires rather than fear, unabashed and bold in the way she moaned, in how her hips rolled and her body moved. Although her eyes never left Santana's, Brittany could feel the way Santana moved on top of her, her body shifting and pressing against her, her hips bucking, and that feeling along with the prolonged eye contact was dizzying.

When Santana hissed, Brittany felt herself coil tighter, the rubber band in her core popping and snapping as Santana in her own pleasure only wound her up higher. Santana was animalistic in that moment, primal and focused on nothing but her own pleasure, but at the same time, so, so fragile, and it wasn't something Brittany had forgotten, despite how utterly fucking hot Santana looked and sounded int hat moment. She knew Santana's whimper wasn't of fear but of sheer intimacy, always so moved by acts of intimacy between them, as she always had been. Santana had been the one that insisted they weren't dating when they were younger and that sex was just sex, but Santana was also the one who would drag Brittany's face to hers right before she came undone, who would hold onto Brittany as tight as she could, who would melt over the smallest reassurances from Brittany.

Brittany paused when Santana gasped her plea again, their faces so close together that Brittany could feel Santana's hot breath against her skin, waiting to see what she was doing, feeling one of her hands fumbling between them, moving to cover Brittany's own hand between her legs. For one fleeting half-second, Brittany thought that it was possible that Santana was stopping her, but Santana's voice ended that thought before it was even fully formed, catching Brittany off guard in a completely different way- Santana didn't want her to stop, Santana just wanted more.

Her voice was deep and throaty, scratchy as she spoke through her arousal, pushing Brittany's hand lower between her legs. Brittany had never even intended to go there, having already decided she wouldn't even try. Sex was one thing, but penetration was another, and Santana had reacted so badly to the thought of even using a tampon that Brittany thought this was entirely out of the question. Now, however, Santana was the one leading, guiding, and at the sound of her voice, this time assuring Brittany that she was okay, Brittany's heart melted. Usually, she was the one convincing Santana that she was alright and safe and okay, but this was something entirely different, this was something that Santana was promising her, something Santana wanted all on her own with no coaxing. And with that, Brittany pushed her middle finger the rest of the way inside her.

She'd only started with one finger, but she could already feel the tight, slick wet of Santana's walls as she clenched around the single digit. Brittany moaned, her hand fisting in Santana's hair as she felt her muscles contract around her, holding her eyes. She withdrew her finger slowly, only to slide her index finger in with her middle this time, her own breathing ragged as she concentrated on making Santana feel as good as possible, her hand coming up to meet her every time Santana bucked her hips down against Brittany's fingers. "Oh my god," She breathed, pumping her fingers a few times as they fell into a rhythm together, Brittany's body rolling up to meet Santana's.

Santana's pupils dilated, and she closed her eyes for a few moments with the vivid, fierce spike of pure bliss that flared through her as Brittany's finger slipped inside her, slowly and carefully stroking her most sensitive parts. Santana's breathing began to sputter, occasionally stopping entirely as her body clenched tight around Brittany, her hips automatically falling into a rhythm of motion that became faster, almost frantic, with Brittany's touch. As Brittany grasped her hair, Santana threw her head back, baring her throat, and a guttural cry emerged from somewhere low and deep inside her as she dug her nails into Brittany's back, desperate to keep her close, to keep her going.

When Santana came, she actually climaxed not just once, but twice, her entire body shaking and shuddering with the explosiveness of her release. Panting, her body slick with a thin sheen of sweat, limbs going limp and tremulous from the aftermath of the intensity of what they had experienced, she collapsed on top of Brittany, wrapping her arms around her tightly, eyes open wide as she struggled with the wave of conflicted emotions rolling through her. Pleasure, exhilaration, pride, shock, amazement, and even grief swept over her until tears burst from her eyes. She buried her neck against Brittany's face, sobbing softly, for several minutes, knowing that Brittany had her, that she would hold her and keep her safe, that Brittany understood.

When she started to settle down, she whispered against Brittany's skin, her voice tiny and raw with feeling, "I did it. I actually did it."

Taking a deep breath, she began to slide a hand down Brittany's thigh, reaching to the inside of her upper leg, intending to tend to her next. "Here, baby. Your turn."

Brittany kept her rhythm steady as Santana bucked against her, grinding her hips against Brittany's hand in a way that was purely animalistic at that point, seeking out the primal pleasure that she wanted. It was a beautiful thing to watch, in a way, Santana giving into her own desires without a second thought on if this was okay or if this would scare her or if she was capable of doing it after being attacked. Brittany knew Santana wasn't thinking about any of those things, only them, together in that moment, the world ceasing to exist around them.

Santana's guttural cry made Brittany moan, feeling her walls contract even tighter around her fingers, being able to tell that Santana was very close to coming undone. Brittany guided her through it, her thumb circling her clit in a few quick circles while her fingers continued to pump in and out of her, feeling Santana tip over the edge above her. Brittany's eyes never left Santana's face, watching the pleasure roll over her features, wanting to help her ride it out, continuing to move her fingers between her legs, speaking Santana through it.

"Come on, Babe, there you go," Brittany hushed as Santana continued to experience her release, wanting her to hear her own voice and knowing, in a way, climaxing was slightly terrifying, the moments where your mind blanked out and you lost your grip on the world, disoriented and swimming in waves of pleasure. "Good girl," Brittany husked once more. She kept her fingers moving for a few moments longer before stilling them, letting Santana come down heavily on top of her, her body going limp. Brittany could still feel her walls contracting around her and waited patiently, throwing one arm over Santana's back as she waited for her muscles to still, keeping her fingers still inside of her.

When Santana stopped experiencing aftershocks, Brittany slowly withdrew her fingers, wiping the moisture from Santana on the inside of her own leg before bringing both hands to wrap around her, holding her close in the afterglow, her body loose and heavy, shaking just a little. Both of them were sucking in deep breaths, their chests heaving, until Santana hid her face and, moments later, Brittany felt the tell tale sign of moisture as she cried.

"I know," Brittany hushed, rubbing Santana's bare back as she sobbed, understanding the onslaught of emotions that Santana was experiencing, knowing that in the aftermath, she needed to be held and reassured and taken care of and treated delicately. "You did do it," Brittany whispered into her hair when Santana spoke through her tears. "That was amazing, that was beautiful. I didn't think you'd let me- that was amazing, Santana," Brittany repeated, mumbling gentle praises, still partially in disbelief from what she'd experienced.

The air in the room was heavy and comforting, both of them having settled against each other, so enamored by what had taken place. Brittany's core still throbbed dully with pleasure, but she was caught off guard when Santana's hand tickled the inside of her thigh, automatically reaching down to stop her. "Hey, it's okay, I'm okay," Brittany assured her, bringing Santana's hand up to her mouth and kissing her fingertips. Somehow, in pleasuring Santana, Brittany had entirely forgotten about being pleasured herself and she knew this moment, what had just happed, was so much bigger than anything, that it was about Santana, and she wanted it to stay that way. "This is about you right now," She said simply, her hand coming up to brush Santana's baby hairs off of her sweaty forehead, "Just lay here with me." She whispered, not wanting Santana to have to focus on Brittany but instead, to focus on how she felt and how her body felt. "I want this to be about you."

Brittany's voice continued to soothe her, throatier than usual yet gentle, still comforting in the way no one else's could be. She kept her anchored through it all, kept Santana from getting swept away in dark memories or flickers of anxiety or fear. Santana felt that it was only because of Brittany, because of who she was and how she had been there for Santana through everything from the moment she showed up at the loft, that she was able to make it as far as she had. Only with Brittany, because of Brittany, could she ever have managed this moment; it had once seemed impossible to even consider ever taking pleasure and feeling safe and confident in sex again.

But she had. The magnitude of the experience, the depth of what it meant, was enormous, and in its aftermath Santana felt fragile from the awe it had occurred.

As Brittany rubbed her back and whispered to her, praising, comforting, and supporting her all in one, Santana's tears gradually slowed, and she lay against Brittany, her body still heavy, her breathing beginning to even into a somewhat steadier rhythm. When Brittany stopped her hand against her thigh, Santana lifted her head, her brow furrowing with confusion, meeting Brittany's blue gaze with hers. She saw nothing in them but love and admiration, pride and content. It seemed that Brittany was sincere when she told her that she didn't want or need anything more from her.

Santana opened her mouth to argue, wanting to tell her that she could do it, that she could handle touching Brittany in return, that she wanted and felt it was fair and right to give back what she had received. But Brittany was stroking her face, her hair, earnest in her request for Santana to relax, to lay down, to focus on herself. Slowly her mouth closed, and she did as Brittany had directed, letting herself settle back into her chest, her head tucked under Brittany's chin, arms wrapped around her waist.

Brittany held Santana in her arms gently, careful with her as if she was breakable, knowing that in that moment, she very much was. She was delicate with her, knowing Santana probably had a myriad of emotions in the aftermath of her orgasm, both positive and negative. Brittany was still reeling in the shock of Santana allowing her to touch her in that way, so intimately, after everything. After every break down and nightmare and trigger, Santana had taken the ultimate step, the ultimate leap of faith, trusting Brittany more than she maybe had ever trusted her before, and certainly the most she'd trusted her since she'd shown up at the loft that day.

She was overwhelmed with all the emotions that she felt, but she knew that she had to focus on Santana, that taking care of her in that moment was above all much more important. "It's okay, I promise," Brittany soothed when Santana looked up at her in confusion after she stopped her. She knew Santana would never confess to how tired or overwhelmed she was nor would ever decline to pleasure Brittany, but she didn't want her to have to think about that or have to push her own emotions to the side. She kept Santana's gaze, watching her process what Brittany had said and then open and close her mouth, a look of understanding and possibly even relief coloring her features. Brittany leaned her head up to press a kiss to Santana's forehead as she contemplated this before Santana settled against her, tucking herself underneath Brittany's chin, Santana's favorite place to be.

"Lets just lay together," She said softly, reaching to the side to cover their naked bodies with the duvet cover so Santana didn't catch a chill. She tucked it around them, settling even more into the bed with Santana's body resting against hers, holding Santana close in her arms. She could feel Santana breathing low and deep, calming down from what had just happened, likely processing everything that she was experiencing. Brittany didn't say too much, letting them lie there in the comforting silence, both of their bodies slick with sweat, still pressed against each other, even more so now.

"I'm so proud of you," She mumbled softly, "How did that feel for you?" Brittany knew that Santana, in some capacity, had wanted that and liked it, and yet she still asked, wanting an honest answer and to understand what was going on in her mind.

As Brittany reassured her that it was okay, that she didn't want or need for Santana to return the gesture in pleasuring her, she punctuated the words with a gentle kiss to further prove her point. Santana closed her eyes, giving a faint shiver as she shifted her body a little to move more closely against Brittany. Although Brittany had settled a blanket around them, she was still soaking in her warmth, her body giving an occasional small twitch in the remaining confusion of her emotions mingled with her body's lingering response.

As her breathing grew more even, she kept her eyes closed, her breath warm against Brittany's skin. Brittany's heartbeat was a steady comforting thrum against hers, and she tried to just be, even with the murky mass of emotion her mind and body was trying to work through.

When Brittany whispered that she was proud of her, Santana took a moment to consider this, realizing that she was proud too, almost so much that she was dazed by it. Even with the other, more complex feelings she was experiencing, pride was up there at the top, matched only by pleasure and love for Brittany, and she felt her lips twitch into a small smile against Brittany's neck.

""It felt...really good," she said slowly, working through finding words that were truth. "I wasn't scared. I was...I think more scared I would be scared, than actually scared. It felt...it felt good, Brittany. It felt right."

She lifted her head a little, meeting her eyes. "I felt okay. I'm more confused about how I feel now than how I felt then."

Brittany knew that, for the most part, Santana had like it, staying present and listening to Brittany and even reaching between her own legs to coax Brittany to go even further. It was a more bold, confident version of Santana than Brittany usually saw, and even she had underestimated how far Santana was willing to go in her pleasure. Still, hearing Santana vocalize that it felt really good made Brittany smile, her heart thumping as she felt her insides swell with love for Santana, love and a little bit of pride that she had been able to make Santana feel good. Even after everything. She knew Santana would always assure her that she was enough, but there were times where she felt so small against all of Santana's emotions and trauma, times where she wished she could help even more than she already was, so being able to touch Santana in that way made Brittany feel good too.

When Santana assured her it felt good and felt right, Brittany dipped her head down to kiss Santana's hair, agreeing, "It felt good and right to me too." She settled her head back down on the pillow as Santana lifted her head to meet her eyes, bringing one of her hands up to stroke the hair at Santana's temple lovingly as Santana continued. "Okay," Brittany said simply, even though she wasn't really sure what Santana meant by that, knowing Santana probably wasn't entirely sure how she felt either. "Why do you think that?" She asked, holding her eyes. Santana looked okay, but she could see the emotions swimming in her eyes in a way that was different from when they were making love, making Santana's expression look almost conflicted.

"You look like you're figuring it out," Brittany observed, moving her hand from Santana's temple to brush her thumb between her eyebrows, smoothing out Santana's thought lines. She was curious as to how Santana felt now, how that experience made her feel, patiently waiting for Santana to explain how she was feeling. "Just talk to me, even if you don't really know yet," She encouraged, wanting Santana to be reassured that they could figure it out together and that Brittany would help her where she could.

Santana kissed Brittany back gently but hungrily, needing and wanting from her every ounce of affection and comfort she could muster. She half closed her eyes, especially savoring Brittany's fingers in her hair and caressing her hair line. She could see that Brittany was accepting her confusion without judgment, without reading it as regret or fear, and that emboldened her enough to elaborate.

"I wasn't scared then, but I am now, a little. I just...I didn't think I could ever do that again," she said softly. "I wasn't okay with that, but I just thought that's how it would be. But if I could do that, what else can I do? What if I think I can do things and I really can't? Or what if I think I can do this again and next time is different, and I'm scared again? You'll never know what to expect from me. I'll never know what to expect from me."

She lowered her eyes, not quite looking at Brittany anymore, and reached to twine their fingers. "I'm just...I feel a lot," she said softly, her voice catching. "I don't even know what all of it is or why."

Brittany felt the need behind Santana's mouth, kissing her back softly, trying to press love and assurance and comfort into Santana's lips. She knew Santana wasn't upset in the aftermath of her orgasm, just slightly unsteady and trying to find her footing emotionally. She kept one hand against the side of Santana's head, stroking her forehead and temple, the other arm still around Santana's back under the covers, her palm planted securely on Santana's side. They were warm and close and tucked into the blankets, as intimate as they could possibly be, but Brittany knew there was a hint of uneasiness in Santana, emotions being stirred up that Santana was trying to figure out.

"You couldn't have always done that," Brittany reminded softly. "For a long time you thought you couldn't do that because you couldn't," She explained, pointing out that Santana's thinking wasn't necessarily wrong. "You just let me touch you because of all the hundred of little things you work on like, everyday," Brittany explained. "That we work on together. Like all the talking we do and therapy and working on all the hard stuff. And there might be other things you can do, but maybe not just yet. Maybe later. And you've already done so many things you thought you'd never be able to do, like use the bathroom when we went to Kurt's rehearsal and make love to me at all." She stroked her forehead and the side of her face as she spoke, her fingertips gentle and comforting, wanting to remind Santana just how far she had come even if she still experienced moments of conflicting emotions or fear.

"Not knowing what to expect from you doesn't bother me," Brittany said instantly. "There probably will be times that it's different, or that you don't want to do it, or that maybe you want to do it but it doesn't feel good," She shrugged where she lay, propped up against the pillows. "Nobody is in the mood to have sex and do certain things all the time," Brittany said, knowing that Santana's circumstance was obviously different, but not wanting Santana to think of herself as so different from anyone else." You might have a bad day or I might have a bad day or maybe we're tired or not feeling well or just feel like doing different things. Or maybe we try that again and it doesn't feel good and then we just figure out what does feel good to you then." She said, twining her hand with Santana's easily.

When Santana spoke again, Brittany hummed, letting her know she heard her. "You can let this be a good thing, San," She reminded gently. She knew Santana, and knew how often she unintentionally spoiled her own good things either by downplaying them or focusing on the negatives unconsciously. "You can feel proud of yourself that we got here without worrying about what will happen later. If you have days where you feel different, then that's okay," Brittany murmured, her voice whisper soft, giving Santana permission to be proud of herself. "Don't confuse sex with intimacy. It's okay to feel scared, but just because you may feel scared if we try to do this again, we still do lots of intimate things and show we love each other that way," She pointed out, knowing Santana, in her fear about it, had been placing an overemphasis on sex. "We take baths and showers together, and we lay together like this and tons of other things," She listed out a few. "You show me you love me in, like, a million ways, not just by letting me touch you and us having sex."

Santana let Brittany's words settle, considering them. It was true. She couldn't have always had sex, not even with Brittany, let alone in the way they just had together. She had worked up to this and worked hard. She had done so much work, for so long, and as she pondered this, she smiled, actually letting herself fully feel the weight of that, to be proud of that.

She truly had managed so many things, seemingly small in the grand scheme of things to outsiders, but Santana and Brittany both understood just how huge they really were. They were enormous, considering how much work she had to put forth to accomplish them.

As Brittany continued to reassure her, reminding her that it was okay and right to be proud, Santana nodded slowly, releasing another breath that was more calming than anxious. She knew Brittany was right. She was intimate with Brittany every day, all day, in so many ways, in everything from private looks to little touches and just knowing and understanding everything about each other's routines and preferences. That was intimacy too, and Santana loved it and fiercely protected it, just as much if not more than sex.

She twirled a strand of Brittany's hair around her fingers, unconsciously seeking to soothe herself more with this as she smiled a little more.

"You're right. Usually are, with this kind of stuff," she said, almost teasing as she waved her hand mock dismissively. "Feelings. Ugh."

She kissed Brittany's jaw, eyes coming up to meet hers again. "Are you sure you're really okay though? I don't mind doing more for you."

Brittany's favorite thing about Santana, specifically Santana with her, was that Santana was so open as she processed what Brittany was saying. She knew with other people and in public, Santana processed things internally, always so careful not to let anything show on her face, her mask carefully intact at all times, but with Brittany, Santana had never even tried to hide anything. From a very young age, she'd made a conscious decision to let Brittany in, to really see her, and Brittany loved to watch it happen, silently watching the way Santana's face pulled into a small smile as she thought through Brittany's words, seeing them take effect in her as she actually did let herself feel proud of what had just happened without worrying if she'd feel scared at any point down the line.

She grinned when Santana began twirling her hair through her fingers, knowing it was something she'd done to calm herself down since they were young. Laughing when Santana waved her hand jokingly, Brittany rolled her eyes with a smile. "Hey, you're getting pretty good at this feelings stuff too," She pointed out teasingly, ticking Santana's ribs where her hand rested on Santana's side under the blankets. Although she would've never admitted it, Brittany knew Santana was far more emotional than Brittany was and also far more connected to her own emotions than anyone would've ever believed, feeling things so deeply, and, for the most part, able to communicate them articulately, although Brittany was usually the only one she ever told.

When Santana met her eyes, Brittany nodded, her expression gentling. "I'm serious, I want this to be about you," She said, and meant it. Taking care of Santana and talking through her emotions had calmed the throbbing in Brittany's body, and, above all, she wanted Santana to be able to focus on what she was feeling without having to worry about making Brittany feel good or returning the favor. She knew Santana didn't see sex between the two of them as transactional, but that when they'd both been sleeping with guys, Santana had always felt pressured to do things for them if they'd done things for her. "You've already given me so much," Brittany reminded her gently, not explicitly referring to what had just happened, but in general.

"Ew, stop, I have not!" Santana protested, mock horror in her tone at Brittany's suggestion that she may have gotten "good" at feelings stuff. She giggled, her ribs one of her ticklish spots that Brittany knew about very well, and dropped her hand from Brittany's hair to push at her hand, very half heartedly. She twined her fingers with it and held it between their bodies, over her heart. She wanted Brittany to feel her heartbeat that much closer, even with their bodies already pressed together, to feel as connected to her as she did to Brittany.

Santana searched Brittany's expression as she insisted that she didn't want Santana to do anything for her, that she had already done enough. She could tell that Brittany was genuine, but nevertheless it pricked at her, that she hadn't "finished" on Brittany's behalf. As Brittany knew, although sex between them was very different, far beyond, than sex Santana had ever had with anyone else, she nevertheless felt like giving her nothing in return, at least from Santana's perspective, even under the circumstances, felt selfish, a position that although most people would not have ever expected out of her, Santana felt uncomfortable with. At least when it came to Brittany.

"But you have to have, like, blue lady balls," she said somewhat playfully, but also serious, squeezing Brittany's hand. "You're the one who just did everything for me. I know this was a lot but I can do it. Are you sure? I want to make you feel good too."

She gets what Brittany is saying, about Santana opening herself up to her in this way, trusting and loving her enough to let her be intimate in this way, was giving her something, but to Santana, it was still not quite the same as returning the favor for Brittany. At least not as she currently views it. As much as she knew Brittany loved and appreciated it and was proud of her, still, she hadn't gotten "her share."

Brittany smiled a close-lipped grin, shaking her head. She chose to not even argue with Santana, knowing that she'd never back down and admit that she was continuing to grow even more emotionally intelligent by the day. It was a fight she knew Santana wouldn't back down on and one Brittany already knew the answer to and so she let it seep from the air between them, knowing that she already knowing that she already knew the real answer. Smiling, she accepted Santana's hand, letting her pull their joined hands between them, feeling the reassured thumping of her heart, lulled rapidly from how hard Brittany knew it must have been hammering a few minutes ago. "My favorite sound," Brittany hummed gently. Brittany had never loved a heartbeat more than when she'd shown up at the loft unannounced and Santana had leapt toward her, settling them both on the couch and feeling the steady thump of Santana's heart as their chests had pressed together. Santana was whole and alive and okay and after what had happened to her, Brittany appreciated it so much more when she heard the reassuring thump of her heart.

"San, please," Brittany said gently, squeezing her hand. She knew it wasn't that Santana didn't believe what she was saying, Santana just had a habit of asking her approximately fifteen times if Brittany was okay and sure about whatever she'd decided, related to sex or not. It was Santana at her most loving and at her most stubborn, and Brittany rubbed her thumb over the back of her hand soothingly. "You do make me feel good." She pointed out, knowing Santana had meant in a sexual way but proving quite the opposite. "I know you would do it if I wanted you to," She added, wanting Santana to know that Brittany had no doubts in her. "And if I did want you to, I would've said it." Brittany explained finally, brushing their noses together, "Sex isn't like, equal," She reminded, knowing that sometimes it was, but lots of times it was just a bunch of other things and it wasn't about completing the transaction or returning the same exact gestures. "Focusing on you feels good to me, and I want to keep doing that." She knew Santana would've jumped at the chance to touch her, but she also saw how emotionally swaying what they'd just done had been for Santana, wanting her to have time to process and talk through those emotions without having to, or having an opportunity to, distract herself by way of touching Brittany.

Santana recognized Brittany's smile and head shake for what it was- Brittany silently thinking to herself how right she was. She pouted a little, knowing that it was kind of hard to argue with someone who refused to argue too, and let her head flop back down against Brittany, smiling herself in spite of herself when Brittany told her that their heartbeats together was her favorite sound. Other than Brittany's voice, it was one of Santana's favorite sounds too.

Back when Brittany had been on tour, and especially after they had broken up, Santana used to fear that something would happen where she would never hear Brittany's heartbeat again or be able to let her own come into rhythm with Brittany's. She had feared accidents, plane or bus crashes, serious injuries or illnesses, terrorist attacks, any number of things that would take Brittany away from her before Santana could be there, before she could see her one last time, say everything she needed to say. She memorized every part of Brittany's tour that she could possibly be aware of, hoping that by somehow knowing about it, she would prevent tragedy from taking Brittany away from her.

She exhaled, finally accepting in full Brittany's reassurance that she needed nothing else from her but her presence, that she had already made her feel good, just because Santana herself had been able to feel good. She crinkled her nose up as Brittany rubbed hers against it, fighting a smile, and gave a small nod.

"Okayyyy. But next time it's you, for sure. All about you."

She went quiet for a few more moments, resting, her thoughts slowing down, still pondering over what had just happened, the enormity of her achievement. It was still not quite real to her, and yet she felt so closely connected and at one with Brittany that she couldn't have denied it.