As soon as they get into Santana's bedroom, the kissing resumes. "I was so turned on thinking about sex in that classroom," Brittany mumbles against Santana's neck as she presses kisses to the skin there. "I almost touched myself in my dorm room."

Hearing those words hot against her neck makes Santana's knees weak. "Fuck, babe. Why didn't you?"

"Don't know how. Plus, I knew I'd be seeing you soon."

While they resume making out, Santana can't stop the idea that hits her. Taking control, she walks Brittany back towards the bed until Brittany sits down on it, then straddles her. Fevered kissing soon leads to clothes removal. Once they're naked, Santana encourages Brittany back onto the pillows so that she is laying comfortably on the bed. "I have an idea."

"So long as it involves orgasms." Breathing hard, Brittany is having a hard time calming her body down. She can feel how wet she is already.

"I want to watch you touch yourself. If you don't like it, we can stop and do whatever you want."

Brittany hesitates. "What about you?"

"What about me?"

"Will you touch yourself?"

Instead of answering her, Santana grasps her dick in her hand and starts to slowly stroke herself. Brittany watches for just a few seconds before her hand travels down her stomach towards her visibly wet slit. "That's it, baby," Santana husks out.

Brittany physically can't stop herself. Watching Santana touch herself is turning her on so much. She circles her clit just like Santana does. While she doesn't expect it to feel as good, and it doesn't, it still feels quite wonderful. Santana gulps as Brittany's finger circles her clit. She desperately wants to help, to touch. She wants to go down on Brittany or at least assist in the fingering, but Brittany needs to be more familiar with herself.

It doesn't take long before Brittany is whimpering. Santana can tell she wants more, so, while still pumping her own cock, she uses her other hand to take Brittany's hand and gently move it downwards. She then positions Brittany's fingers and gently pushes them inside of her. After guiding her movements for a few more thrusts, she lets Brittany take back over. Brittany starts to go faster. Her fingers don't feel as good as Santana (any part of her), but it still feels good, and she can feel herself building up to an orgasm. "Rub your clit too, baby." The rasp in Santana's voice makes her even more wet as she follows instruction.

Santana is going to come. Any second. She wants so badly to pull Brittany's fingers out and replace them with her dick, but she wants to watch Brittany come. She squeezes the base of her shaft several times, trying to delay the inevitable.

Reaching her free hand up, she palms Brittany's breast, toying with her nipple and making Brittany gasp. Although Santana's intention was to touch Brittany to help her along, she ends up making it harder on herself to hold back. "Fuck. I'm gonna come, Britt."

Brittany's eyes refocus on the sight in front of her. Unable to control herself, Santana gasps as she strokes herself faster. Brittany moans just as the first string of cum shoots out and lands on her stomach. The next one lands on the hand that's still inside of herself. As she continues to thrust in and out, she rubs the cum into herself and continues to clumsily rub her clit. She watches through bleary eyes as Santana pumps the last few drops out of her dick. For a second, she remembers how amazing it feels when Santana comes inside of her, the warmth combined with how full she feels. With that feeling in mind, she feels the ball of tension in her lower stomach explode.

Santana watches as Brittany's eyes squeeze shut and her legs start to shake. She can tell Brittany is coming, and it's almost enough to make her hard again. She reaches down and cups Brittany, forcing her fingers deeper. A small moan and "Santana" squeak from Brittany's slightly parted lips. When Brittany's body starts to relax back onto the bed, Santana gently pulls her fingers from inside of herself before laying down next to her and taking her into her arms. She kisses her gently, waiting for Brittany's breathing to return to normal.

It felt good, but not nearly as good as when Santana does it. Still, watching and feeling Santana come on her turned her on to a degree that she was not expecting. Regaining feeling in her arms, Brittany tightens them around Santana and deepens the kiss just slightly before pulling away. "I like it better when you touch me."

"Me too. But watching was amazing, and now you know how to do it if I'm not there."

"Mhmm." Brittany can feel them sticking together, a little from sweat and mostly from the cum that is still covering her stomach. "I liked it. I like trying new things."

"We could do more," Santana suggests. Brittany is definitely on board with that. "Is there anything you want to try?"

"Oh, I think I can come up with a few things," Brittany whispers seductively in her ear. "But first, bubble bath. Then a snack, because your stomach is making devil noises." The juxtaposition between seductive Brittany and sweet and caring Brittany makes Santana smile. Yeah, she could definitely spend the rest of her life like this.


Brittany has always healed quickly. That, coupled with high pain tolerance, means she's back to teaching within two weeks of the accident. Although she's still not supposed to dance, she sometimes does it without noticing; she can't just turn it off. Still, she tries to take it as easy as she can.

True to her professor's word, she gives Brittany an opportunity to choreograph. After Brittany sits out the first week and simply watches and provides feedback, her professor approaches her about options for the final, saying that she can either write a paper or choreograph for one of the other students in the class. Of course, Mike agrees, and Brittany is finding that, while she doesn't love it more than dancing herself, she definitely likes choreographing.

It works out well that the nights she works with Mike are also the nights that Santana has evening class or is in the rehearsal rooms—which Santana is thankful for, because she hasn't spent a night without Brittany in weeks. Sometimes, Santana feels a little guilty about how happy she is that Brittany is moving in with her, because she knows that it's mostly because of what happened with her parents.

Santana still has nightmares. She knows Brittany does too, but Brittany usually forgets hers when she wakes up, or so she says. Santana can't, as much as she wishes she could. Every so often, she'll have a nightmare that Brittany died or was hurt even worse than she was. If she manages to not wake Brittany on those nights (she usually does), Brittany can still tell the next day, when Santana is just a little more protective or stands just a little closer to her.

Tonight, Brittany wakes up. At first, she thinks Santana is awake and talking to her, but as soon as she's a little more aware of her surroundings, she realizes that Santana is just mumbling her name and moving a lot. It's pretty obvious what's going on, so Brittany patiently strokes Santana's face, kissing her forehead and waking her gently. As soon as Santana wakes, she curls herself into Brittany, who holds her tight. "Still here, San. Still okay. Love you so much," Brittany mumbles sleepily.

"I'm sorry, Britt."

"S'okay baby. What's your favorite flavor of juice?"

Santana smiles, because she knows that Brittany already knows and that she's trying to distract her. She plays along, because it helps. Brittany always knows how to help. "Apple usually, but sometimes kiwi-strawberry."

"Yummy. What are we doing this weekend?"

"Mercedes is having a party, remember? To celebrate Sam finishing his sophomore film."

"Oh yeah. When does that show?" Brittany is more awake now.

"Not sure. We'll have to ask. Do you want to drink tomorrow?"

"Nope. You can if you want to, though. I've been feeling like I have a cold coming on, and I don't want to tempt it. I'll stay sober and make sure you get across the street and home safe." She smiles as she kisses the top of Santana's head.

"You sure?"

"Absolutely."

Santana rolls so that she's on top of Brittany, then kisses her. One kiss turns into many more, and pretty soon, Brittany is panting beneath her. Santana runs her hand up Brittany's leg to her panties and dips below to find Brittany is already soaked. She dips her fingers into the wet heat and circles her clit a few times. Brittany moans, then reaches down to remove her panties before pulling Santana's boxers off. She grasps Santana's shaft lightly, pumping a few times before aligning it with her center. Santana rolls her hips, penetrating Brittany, and kisses her to silence the moan.

This kind of sex never lasts long for either of them. It is quick but loving and gentle. Santana continues to thrust in and out of Brittany while her head presses into the side of Brittany's neck. "You fill me so, ohh, so good, Santana," Brittany quietly moans in her ear. Santana repositions herself so she can angle up on her thrusts, repeatedly rubbing against Brittany's g-spot. While looking into Santana's eyes, Brittany starts to circle her own clit. After a few minutes, Brittany's walls clench down, and she starts to shake. The added tightness and the knowledge that Brittany is coming push Santana over the edge as well.

They bring each other down with gentle touches and whispers of "I love you." Santana loves when it happens like this—completely unplanned and unexpected, just a quick and loving fulfillment of their need for each other. Sated and calm, they both fall into dreamless sleep.


On Friday evening, after classes and a quick nap, they get ready for the party. Well, they try to. Brittany is walking around in a bra and panties, and Santana is finding it really hard to focus. Brittany knows, too. She likes the way it makes her feel when Santana looks at her like that. Plus, focusing isn't so easy for her either, as Santana definitely spent longer than necessary choosing something to wear while completely naked. "Something wrong, babe?" Brittany asks as she looks over her shoulder and smirks at the Latina.

Santana's response comes in the form of stepping closer to Brittany and wrapping her arms around her from behind. "We don't have to go. We could stay here." She kisses the back of Brittany's neck, already knowing that they're going to this party, no matter how much she'd rather get back in bed.

"San..."

"I know, B. I'm joking. Get dressed, though. Please. Or we really might not go." She smacks Brittany's butt lightly and goes to finish her makeup.

Half an hour later, they're both ready, somehow magically before Quinn. She follows shortly, and they walk across the parking lot to Mercedes's apartment. The party is fun. Their friends are there, the drinks are good, and there's no drama. Brittany is somewhere nearby, talking to Mercedes, and Santana is trying to remember how much alcohol to add to the juice. She knows there's a magic ratio, but she almost never achieves it.

An hour later, the ratio doesn't even matter. She can't taste the alcohol anymore, so everything is awesome. Even Rachel isn't too bad when she feels like this. They're talking about music, which she normally tries not to talk about constantly, but right now, it doesn't seem to matter. "How long have you been playing the piano, Santana?"

"Since I was three. That's..." She tries to do the math. "It's a lot of fucking years, Berry."

Quinn chimes in, "Santana" hiccup "is a prodigy, babe. She's 'mazing." She's a little drunk too. Looking jealous, Rachel opens her mouth, likely to mention something that will pull focus back to her, but Santana gets distracted by Sam shoveling fistfuls of popcorn in his mouth and decides she'd rather watch that than listen to Rachel.

Brittany vaguely wonders where Santana is before forcing herself to focus back on her conversation. Artie is talking to her about multi-media something or another. He wants to add video and technology to dance. The way he describes it sounds interesting, and honestly, as long as she gets to dance, she's game for just about anything.

"Britt!" She turns her head to see Quinn walking towards her. "I think San needs you. She's doing the crying thing again."

With a short apology to Artie, Brittany heads to the kitchen where she last saw Santana. She finds her quickly enough. She is hanging off of Sam (who looks a little sad himself) and crying pretty hard, but Brittany knows better than to get too scared. Santana is a weepy drunk. "What's wrong, baby?" she coos gently, pushing some hair behind her ear.

"B-Britt?"

Brittany nods as Santana focuses on her face. Yeah, she's had a little too much alcohol. Santana lets her arms drop from around Sam and turns into Brittany, who hugs her tightly. "Tell me what's wrong, honey."

"I was talking to Sam a-about how awesome orange juice i-is." Brittany nods, because sure, why not? Orange juice is pretty awesome. "A-and then I was just like, what if you had died?" There it is.

Brittany pulls her in tighter. She doesn't know a better way to remind Santana how alive she is. Brittany presses kisses to Santana's wet cheek and, after a few seconds of holding her, she pulls away slightly. "Let's go sit down. Okay?" Santana makes a little noise of agreement before Brittany pulls her into the living room and over to an armchair, which happens to be the only available seat. Sitting down, she goes to pull Santana down so that she's sitting in her lap, but before she can, Santana takes her own initiative and lays down on top of Brittany, curling into a little ball with her face buried into her neck. Brittany laughs lightly as she wraps her arms around Santana, who is nuzzling and sighing small content sighs. If this is all she needs to feel better, then Brittany is more than willing to do it. However, she does wonder if something more needs to be done. Her nightmares have mostly passed, but Santana's haven't. Not for the first time, she wonders if Santana might need professional help in order to cope. Now is definitely not the time to talk about it with her, though.

A few minutes later, Quinn walks over to them and silently asks if Santana is okay. Brittany smiles and nods. "You're ruining your rep, Lopez. Snuggling in front of all these people," she teases.

Santana half-heartedly lifts her head and turns towards Quinn. "Shuddup, I'm tough!" she slurs. Brittany thinks she might be trying to get up to prove it, so she opens her arms, but Santana quickly burrows herself back into her. "No, don't stop cuddling me!" Brittany laughs as she tightens her arms back around her.

"So tough," Quinn mumbles and shakes her head as she walks away. Several minutes later, Santana's breathing evens out, and she's making sleeping sounds. Brittany contemplates waking her up, so she can walk her back home and put her to bed.

"Want me to carry her?" Puck asks, suddenly appearing.

"Yeah, maybe. My ribs aren't quite up for that." He nods knowingly and bends down to lift Santana off Brittany.

Santana manages to sleep through leaving the party and most of the way back, but when they're almost across the parking lot, she stirs awake. "Br...Puck? Whadda fuck! Put me down!" She drunkenly struggles enough for Puck to set her down for fear of dropping her. As soon as she sees Brittany, she wrapped her arms around the blonde, leaning on her for support. "Stop hitting on my girlfriend!" she slurs at Puck, who just laughs. After silently asking Brittany if she can handle it, he waves and leaves. "Where are we?"

"We're going home, baby. It's bedtime." Brittany pulls her key out of her bag and lets them into the house. After walking Santana to the bedroom, she goes to the kitchen to get some water. When she returns, Santana is sitting where she left her, with her head down, looking ashamed and on the verge of tears again.

"Are you mad because I got too drunk?" she sniffs.

Brittany sets the water down and kneels in front of her, taking Santana's hands in her own. "No, not at all. I'm tired. I was ready to go too." She leans up to kiss a tan cheek, which brings out a shy little smile from Santana. "Just underwear tonight?"

"Naked cuddles." Santana raises her arms, indicating that Brittany should take her shirt off for her. Once they're both naked, Brittany sets the aspirin and water on Santana's bedside table and climbs into bed. Santana clumsily follows after turning off the lamp. "Can I be the little spoon?" Santana gets into the little spoon position before Brittany can even respond. Smiling, Brittany wraps her arms around Santana and kisses her upper back before they whisper their good nights and fall asleep.