Title: Above The Moon
Rating: NC-17
Word Count: 8.5k
Summary: She really is here. Brittany is here, and you think over the past 10 years without her, trying to figure out how destiny didn't bring you back together sooner, but you guess it just wasn't the right time.
Notes: Glad to see you're all enjoying this so far!
/
There's no talk of coffee on the way up to her apartment.
There's barely any talk, actually, and you don't know who makes the first move but one second, she's sliding her key into the door and you're just staring at each other as she pushes it open, and the next, your tongue is in her mouth and she's pinning you against it as it closes behind you. Her hands are in your hair and your hands are on her hips, thumbs pressing into the bones there which makes her rut forward and bite into the kiss, nipping at your bottom lip which makes your eyes roll into the back of your head.
And you know this is probably not what you two should be doing. It was only a couple hours ago you were adjusting to her being around at all, let alone in this capacity and it's a rush to the head. You're dizzy from all of the events of tonight, but mostly because of the way she's flicking her tongue against the roof of your mouth like she always used to, and you push away all the thoughts inside your mind because if you're doing this, you're going to give it your all with zero doubts or hesitations.
Like you said, you feel like you owe it to the Gods of sex or something. It's like a rite of passage seeing as you two lost your V cards to each other to see how far you've come.
"San," Brittany pants into your mouth, making your entire body spike with electricity and you pull back, staring deeply into her eyes to tease her as she was always impatient when you two got down to it, but getting entirely distracted by how hot she looks. Blonde hair is wild and tousled, her lips are now swollen and she's pressing into all the right areas of your body, like she never forgot what turned you on.
You don't need to hear the rest of what she has to say, mostly because thanks to your history, you already know she's in dire need of getting off and you smirk, dropping your hands to the hem of her dress and tugging it up as you put a small space between you, removing it from her body in one swift motion. Then she's there, gloriously naked bar the thong covering her most intimate part, and the breath is ripped from your chest as you scan up tight abs, perky nipples, and soft skin, taking it all in as it's been way too fucking long since you saw her like this last.
How is she even fucking real?
But then she's smirking at you, face twisted into a devilish grin and her hands shoot out to your jeans, making quick work of your belt and the buttons before she pushes them down your legs, ducking her head to begin kissing your neck as she does so. Your hands snap to her biceps, nails cutting into the skin of her arms when she begins sucking at your pulse point, and you let your head fall back against the door heavily when cool air hits your legs, and your thighs pinch together because you can feel how hard you are already.
You'd be embarrassed if you two hadn't slept together before, but you don't need to be and you get temporarily dazed with thinking if this is a good idea or not as she pops open the buttons of your shirt in quick succession, before pushing it free from your shoulders until your skin to skin. You never wear a bra as you've got a great rack, and the contact makes you hiss into the next kiss she gives you, but she just smirks against your mouth and you know she knows exactly what she's doing to you.
There may be a decade since you did this together, but your body is well acquainted with every single touch of her hands or lips or whatever body part is pressing up against yours and you're powerless to resist.
But you know you've got to take the lead here. You're nothing if not confident in bed and this is a time to prove that she's coming back for a good reason. You have years of experience now and despite being totally overwhelmed with the way she's making you feel, you want to make sure she's feeling the same way. So you pull her face away from your neck with a hand to the back of hers, and she glances up for a split second to register the smirk on your face before you're pushing her backwards, stumbling over the rug on the floor as you back her up into the closest thing, which turns out to be a kitchen counter.
You haven't even spared a glance to look at her apartment or the layout, entirely focused on everything she's doing to you and what you're going to do, and maybe after you'll compliment her on the choice of dark marble she's chosen her kitchen counters to have, but right now, you just press her into the edge and step between her legs when she opens them. She gasps into your mouth, shuddering out a shaky exhale and you grin against her mouth as you stroke your tongue against hers, feeling way too smug as she's now dazed and letting you take the reins.
But you're good at this. You may not have travelled America or gone sightseeing in all the big cities, but you know how to make a girl come and you're sure as hell going to prove that.
She must sense the way your mind goes, because her hands move up to your shoulders, nails scratching across your skin in a way that makes you almost buckle to the floor, but you push into her harder, the bulge in your boxers pressing right where she needs it and this time she's the one who almost buckles. But you're right there, pinning her against the counter and dropping your mouth to her neck, biting down against the spot that used to drive her crazy and you grin when you find out it still does.
You think this may be the best thing that's happened to you in years.
Brittany gets impatient though, as expected, her hands scrambling to bring your head back up, but you stay strong, pulling away and shaking your head which makes her eyebrows shoot up to her hairline. Back when you were 16, you used to let her dominate you as you know you're bigger than average and were scared you'd hurt her, but you're made of different stuff now, and you want her to feel as good as she can, and you know you're fully capable of making that happen.
You're more of an actions instead of words kind of girl though, and she just nods slowly even though you haven't said anything, her eyes a frighteningly dark blue now as you continue kissing down her neck, grazing your teeth along her collarbone before you drop to your knees, kissing an invisible path down her stomach. Your tongue pokes out, stroking against twitching muscles and you force yourself not to get distracted with the gasp that leaves her lips as she realises what you're doing, mostly because you're so fucking eager to taste her, to see if she still tastes as good as you remember, and it's like a burning need.
It's engrained in your body, and has been since you were just a teenager, but you know you've levelled up now. You know your sexual abilities are now like, ten times better than they used to be and without further ado, you hook your fingers into the thin string of her thong, pulling it down long legs until she steps out of it. But you take advantage of her legs moving and throw one over your shoulder, glancing up once before you dive straight in, running the flat of your tongue through her as her hands shoot to your hair.
"Oh–shit," Brittany gasps, but you're humming in appreciation of her on your tongue once again. She tastes better than you remember.
"Fuck," you groan, mind dizzying with her heavy scent and the way she whimpers when you repeat the movement, and you feel her fingers tangle into your hair as you manipulate her leg until you can wrap your lips around her clit and suck with intent. She jerks, hips move uncontrollably, and you can't help yourself when you look up again, not pausing your movement to see her head thrown back, neck exposed and your hand reaches up to grasp her breast, the pads of your fingers rolling over her nipples.
It has the same effect it did ten years ago, and you moan into hot flesh when she buckles slightly, catching herself on the edge of the counter with the hand not in your hair, and it just makes you increase the tempo. Your tongue slides through her, flicking insistently over the bundles of nerves and you can feel her juices coating your face, but you don't care. All you care about is that you still turn her on this much, still make her feel as good as you did – if not better – than you used to all that time ago.
The sexual chemistry you two share is off the freaking charts.
Only a few practised laps later, her thighs are squeezing around your cheeks, making the restricted air hot and stuffy but it doesn't throw you off. Instead, using the grip you have on her thigh, you urge her wider and wider, dipping your tongue down into her entrance and feeling the muscles tighten around you. She's so close and you can't wait to feel her come in your mouth, but you also know you don't want it to be over so quick. You want to do this over and over, and you think she wants the same as she carefully peers down at you through hooded, blue eyes, panting hard and fast with a mouth wide open.
She's so fucking hot you don't know what to do with yourself.
With your free hand, you reach between you and push beneath the waistband of your boxers, grabbing your cock and squeezing at the base. She hasn't even touched you yet and you're fully hard, aching with the need to feel her around you, or just to freaking touch you but you're nothing if not stubborn. There's no way in hell she's going to touch you until you've made her come at least twice and with that thought, you close your eyes and work faster and harder until you hear the syllables of her name coming out of her mouth brokenly and the hand in your hair tightens impossibly so.
Then she's thrown into a pit of extreme pleasure, the orgasmic wave of pleasure crashing down upon her as she tightens around your tongue, juices now dripping off your chin, but you don't stop. You smirk into her, reeling back just for necessary oxygen before you dive straight back in and continue lapping at her, feeling the second climax rapidly building as you begin stroking at yourself languidly, making sure you have stamina to see this through because this is just step one.
You're so fucking turned on, the need to get off hitting you hard in the gut but you can't stop doing this. You don't want to as you never thought you'd be lucky enough to be in this position again, but if it's the last time or if it's just a one off, you know you need to give it your all. You want her to have a reason to come back for more, even though that's probably not what you two should be doing or what you should be planning as you've just seen her for the first time in ten years tonight, but you know you're totally okay with doing this all over again.
Just because it meant something back when you were a teenager, doesn't mean it has to now. Maybe it could be like playing tennis, just with more calories burnt and way more intimate.
"San–Oh my–" Brittany gets out, voice hoarse in a way that you remember only too well, and you speed up again until she's falling over the edge again, thighs far more shaky this times as she climaxes again, but you don't get to readjust your grip and go in for round three before the hand in your hair is snapping to your shoulder and tugging you up.
You wipe your chin against your bicep, feeling the wetness transfer and then you put all attention on her, unable to stop fucking smirking when you see her breathless, eyes droopy and chest rising hard and fast. You think you just rocked her world, and you're about to make a comment about that but then she's talking, and you're reminded of how fucking ready you are for her.
"God, you're s-so good at that s-still," she manages to say through a strained throat, a small laugh coming through with her words and you can't help but grin smugly at her, stepping closer as her leg returns to the floor, quivering in the spot. You push harder into her, just to make sure she doesn't fall to the floor and begin an assault of licks and kisses up the line in her throat as she rolls her hips and twitches in the aftermath, returning to a slightly more normal state with her breathing.
But yours isn't normal. Yours is getting faster and it's because you feel like you're about to explode. You haven't been this hot for anyone since… Well, ever, and you should be worrying about that but then she's smirking at you again, wiping the smile off your face and the heat in your groin triples. You haven't seen that in a while, and you gulp audibly which just makes her grin instead of smirk and then there's hands pushing at your shoulders, and you're being steered backwards until your calves hit the sofa and you're dropping down into a seated position with a huff.
Your brace yourself with your hands, but your eyes never leave hers and you can't help but stare at her in complete awe as she gets to her knees, pulling her hair over one her shoulder and she quickly draws your boxers down your legs until you're springing free against your stomach. Blue eyes bug open, shooting straight to your dick and confidence surges around your body as you watch her look at you like she can't wait to see what you can do with it.
But you guess she already does know, which makes the awe so much more impactful.
A hand wraps around your shaft, not even hesitating as she begins stroking you in a practised manner, and the single touch makes you throw your head back again, eyes squeezing shut. You think if she does it for too long, you're going to come right here with just her hand and you force yourself to look down to her again, watching her lick her lips before she ducks her head, never breaking the eye contact as she runs her tongue up the underside of your shaft, making your entire body tense. Guess you don't need to worry about coming too early from a hand job.
And Brittany was always incredible at giving head, even when you two were teenagers, but this is so different. There's this confidence in her eyes, in the smirk she gives you when she wraps her lips around the end of your cock and sinks down the length, doing that thing with her tongue as she begins bobbing her head that makes fireworks appear behind your eyelids. You can't deny that it's the hottest thing you've ever seen, and such a contrast to the memories you have inside your brain that all you can do is watch as she takes you all in until she's swallowing you completely.
"Fuck," you whine, your eyelashes fluttering as she hums, her throat vibrating which adds to the sensation and you're not religious, but all that follows is the repetition of God's name over and over.
She's working you so well, too fucking well in fact that you can't watch your member disappear into her mouth, or how her hand is twisting around the base as you're on the larger side, because it's just making this so much hotter. Your teeth sink into your bottom lip and your hand comes up to hold her hair back when her grip drops to your thigh, and she looks up at you with her mouth full, which makes you groan and throw your head back again.
But you know you're going to have to stop this soon. Not only are you eagerly anticipating what she can do with her hips if this is what she can do with her mouth, and you let her continue for another minute or so, just taking you in deeply and not even gagging when the tip of your dick hits the back of her throat – she never had a gag reflex, thank God – before moving the hand you have on her hair to stroke at her cheek, silently signalling that you're going to need to hit pause here.
Your reload time is impressive, but not instantaneous and you need to be inside her.
A dark giggle comes from below as your cock falls from her lips, landing with a slapping sound and then there's hands on your thighs, pushing down as Brittany leans up and captures your mouth again, and you moan at the taste of yourself in her mouth. Normally, it's not something you'd do and you haven't since her, but you would literally do anything for her and shit, it may be a new (but old) favourite thing, tasting the combination of yourself and her inside your mouth.
It's incredible, and just as you remember.
"Fuck," you hiss when she pulls back, and you half expect her to climb over you, settle a leg either side of your hips but then she's climbing to her feet and reaching over the side of the armchair into her discarded purse shoved down the side, pulling a condom from it and okay, not what you were expecting as you two never used protection when you were teenagers, but it's a start of something new. So you just watch her as she tears the packet with her teeth and pinches the object between her fingers, bending down at the hip to roll grab at your cock, holding it upright as she rolls the condom over with her other hand.
Blue eyes never leave yours, and you gasp when she presses your lips together one last time, before spinning around and lowering herself down. Reverse cowgirl is one of your favourite positions – ever since she did it the first time when you two were teenagers – and you would say something about how she remembers, but then she's reaching around and grasping you again, lining you up against her entrance and peering over her shoulder at you as she sinks down.
And it's so much better than you remember.
You suck in a sharp gasp as she takes you in, slick heat encompassing your dick and you bite down on your bottom lip as her eyes flutter shut. You know you're bigger than average, but she always managed to move past the initial stretching, and she does that right now, whimpering when she stops halfway, and you honestly don't know how you forgot how she made you feel. You feel like you could burst into flames with how turned on you are, especially as your view is of her perfect ass and before you know it, she's completely on your lap and you're deeply sheathed within, twitching at the need to just start fucking her hard and fast.
"Jesus," Brittany mewls, her voice pitched and perfect teeth showing as she adjusts to you, and you move your hands to set them on her hips, thumbs rubbing reassuringly because the last thing you want her to do is push herself, just to impress. You two haven't slept together in years, so you're not sure how she's handling you, but it seems she doesn't have a problem as she leans back into you, one of her hands reaching around to grab the back of your neck as she lifts her hips up and begins riding you.
"You feel s-so," she stutters as sparks begin exploding inside of you, pleasure flushing over your skin in a scorch. "So good," she whines and you're not one for dirty talk, but this is striking through you, quick like lightning and fuck it, you'll do whatever she wants.
You suck in your lips as she grinds down with her hips, dragging out every stroke with a body wave and you can't help but drop your forehead to her shoulder, your hands moving around to clutch her closer to you as she bounces in your lap. She's so fucking good at this and a guttural moan leaves your lips when she slams down on to you and twitches, hitting that spot deep inside of her. A spot that you know very fucking well.
It's the spot that used to drive her crazy, that used to destroy your teenage bedsheets and the memory refreshes inside of you as you decide to take over. You move one of your hands from her hips and press it to the centre of her spine, urging her to take most of her weight and lean, as you do the same back into the sofa, planting your feet firmly on the floor to get into a new position. From here, you can see the wetness coating your cock and you keep your eye on it as you begin pounding into her from below, ignoring the ache in your muscles after the first thirty seconds, but she begins chanting your name and has to steady herself with a hand to your thigh beneath when you repeatedly hit that spot.
Now you know exactly what you're doing to her.
"San, San, San," is all you hear, your name spilling brokenly from her mouth, and you smirk as you roll your hips up into her, switching from rapid thrusts to long, dragged out ones and she begins shuddering.
You know she's close, you can feel her tightening around you, but you just want to give her so many orgasms she can't even count them, but you know you don't have the stamina for this. Even though you're not a teenager anymore, and have spent years building up resistance, she's just taking it all away and you make a mental note to make sure this isn't the last time you do this, as it's going to be far too fleeting. You're not going to last much longer than you did when you were a teenager, but it's Brittany fucking you, and you'd be embarrassed, but you know she's already come twice so she can't exactly say anything.
"I need–"
You don't let her finish her sentence before you're pulling her back into you again, so she's flush against your lap and you reach around with the hand you still have on her hips, instantly dipping down to run circles around her clit. It's something she always needed to tip her over the edge and you're only happy to oblige, especially when with one, two, three well-timed flicks, she's stiffening like a board, all her muscles tensing including the ones surround your cock and she's coming hard and fast, whimpering loudly and screaming your name loudly into the apartment.
"Santana!" She screams, and you bite down on your bottom lip, trying to hold back on your own climax but it's coming too fast to stop it.
And when she grinds down on you, still going through the intense orgasm and gripping you rhythmically, you snap like a rubber band and you jerk your hips messily, pumping into her a few more times until you're spilling into the condom, groaning, and grunting as sparks fly across your body, small black spots forming in your eyes. The tips of your fingers press into her hips where you're holding her, and you manage to slam into her once, twice, before collapsing from exhaustion against the sofa, your grip going slack on her body as it slumps against yours heavily, Brittany draped across you.
Then there's silence, bar the sound of both your heavy breathing, but you just enjoy the post-coital bliss as you try to find some grounding, letting your neck fall back until your head hits the back of the sofa, and Brittany does the same but to your shoulder. And it doesn't feel weird. There isn't an awkward tension in the air as she drags quivering hands to your thighs and somehow summons the strength to lift off you, barely able to throw her body to the side as her legs come up on the sofa and lay across your lap as you remove the condom and toss it into the room somewhere.
After, your hands find her shins, gripping lightly but in a tired way, and she giggles lightly which earns your attention, your eyes sliding to the side to find her breathless, but laughing, as she looks at you from the corner of the sofa. She's naked, and covered in a thin layer of sweat, still trying to catch her breath as her chest rapidly heaves up and down, but she's fucking gorgeous and all you can do is stare.
"You've learned some new moves," Brittany whispers, her voice thick and a sharp reminder of what you were just doing.
Still, you chuckle, much like she was and bob your head, as it's the only thing you have energy for. "You can talk," you throw back with a smirk and she props herself up on her elbows, chest still rising and falling rapidly but slowing down now.
"Oh, honey," she draws out and her tone changes from hoarse to seductive again, and your eyebrows shoot up to your hairline. No way in hell is she ready for round two. You're going to need a Red Bull or something before you do that. "I'm just getting started," she finishes, biting her lip and pushing up to throw a leg over you again, straddling your hips.
You just look up to her, but she kisses you and removes the request of a drink from your mouth with a flick of her tongue.
You can get a Red Bull after.
/
You roll off Brittany, on to your back and stare at the ceiling, trying to find any available oxygen in the room.
It feels like it's been sucked out, like you're in space without a spacesuit and you blink several times as Brittany giggles beside you, twisting in the blanket you tripped over when you went into round three. You did manage to get your drink, but apparently the sight of your butt naked, wandering into her kitchen was too much for her to take and you didn't even make it back to the sofa, or the bedroom, before she was coming towards you, sticking her tongue down your throat and you lost all balance, slipping on the haphazardly strewn blanket half on and half off the sofa, both of you falling onto the floor and bumping teeth, but laughing.
The time before that was her riding you into oblivion on the sofa, and the third (the blanket one) was so easy, so light and there was a little battle of dominance as you rolled around her apartment floor, both of you trying to get on top. But then you played dirty, and sucked at her pulse point until she was whimpering beneath you, and you pinned her hands either side of her head as you pushed into her and made her choke out with pleasure.
You also finished her off three more times after sliding out of her and down her body. You don't actually know how she's alive. Or how you are actually.
But now, you're borderline passing out and you press your hand to your forehead, feeling your scorching skin and trying to blink away the haze scratching at your eyelids. You've had a lot of sex, with a lot of different women, but nothing quite like that. She owned every part of your soul, just like she did when you were teenagers and super inexperienced, but you've both done your far share of research apparently and guess it was for good reason.
That was the most amazing sex you've ever had.
"Jesus, San," Brittany gets out, still giggling lightly as she turns on her side, throwing an arm and a leg over you. You drop your hand to her forearm, grasping it and pressing it into your stomach and your thumb strokes across her skin, feeling goosebumps form beneath the touch as her fingers dance up the side of your ribs. Her head goes to your shoulder as she scoots forward, snuggling into your side and hot breath is panting against the underside of your jaw, making your body flare up again.
"How are you so good in bed?" She laughs out, pressing her lips to your jawbone before nuzzling into you.
You feel your chest fill with pride, and a smug grin tug at your lips, but you just end up rolling your eyes as you tilt your chin down to look down at her. She urges her head back, blinking sleepily and you're right there with her. You could do with a nap, but then you process her words and freeze.
"Wait… Was I bad before?"
Again, Brittany giggles and bobs her head, tipping her chin up to suck on your bottom lip once before settling back down. "I promise you, you've never been bad," she entreats and the motion on your ribs continues as she tickles you softly. "But we did lose our virginities to each other, so we can compare to then and now, and somehow… You've got better when you were already amazing," she says, and you didn't think she'd mention that, so you freeze. She feels it, because she props herself back up on one elbow and looks down at you, face a little more serious now like she sleepiness has shot out of her. "Do you remember it? The first time?"
You almost laugh because, how could you forget something like that? Losing the big V is always something to remember, regardless of place or time or who, but you know your version of it is one that'll stay forever. It was hesitant, but full of love and care and even though you were both nervous as hell, and neither one of you could stop talking through it, just to make sure the other was okay, you treasure it even to this day.
That was your first step into the world of sex, with your best friend and – at the time – girlfriend, and sure, it was slightly awkward and totally not you at your best, now you can look back, but it was also perfect.
You wouldn't change it for the world.
"God, yes," you groan, rolling your eyes because in hindsight, you don't know how she can say you were good. You only did like, one position the very first time and you came in under two minutes, but you'll always remember that she came twice and that was strange for a virgin, but you must have done something right. Although thinking back to it, the place you did it was kind of a rushed situation so you shouldn't feel too bad. "Really trying not to though," you follow up, laughing out the words which makes her head cock to the side, like she's disagreeing with you.
"I mean," she picks up your hand with the one she had on your ribs and threads your fingers together, pausing her sentence as she watches the movement. "You really should… It was amazing back then and still is," she grins, wagging her eyebrows as she looks between your naked bodies, pressed up against each other, but you just roll your eyes. "If I remember correctly, you made me come twice," she recalls, and your mouth drops open. You remembered that, but you didn't think she would. "And apparently you still have that effect on me," she says with a wink. "So I think you're good."
It strokes your ego massively, and you shrug your shoulders like it totally isn't a big deal which makes her face scrunch up as she laughs with you, like you're a total idiot but it's a warming moment because you drink in everything you've missed about her. As much as you've missed having sex with her, you've also missed how much she makes you laugh, how she makes you feel lighter just by being around her, but that also brings the fear that this type of thing led to you falling in love with her when you were a teenager, and you're so not ready for that.
You weren't lying, you don't want a relationship as you're successful and have an easy-going life, and you're about to say something along the lines of checking she's still good that this is just sex, but then she's dropping a kiss to your cheek, tapping your stomach, and clambering to her feet, stretching her arms up into the air and clicking her bones back into place. And you have a pair of eyes, so you take full advantage of the view and allow yourself to be distracted by the sight of her as she catches you staring and quirks a brow.
"I know you've just eaten," she gets out and chuckles darkly and the words shoot straight to your groin, making you groan and pull your legs up to your chest. If she talks like that, you're going to be eating again as soon as possible and you won't be eating food. "But I'm hungry," she states and puts a hand out toward you, offering to help you off the floor which you do until you're face-to-face, back on your feet, bodies pressed together. "You want take-out? There's a great Chinese a few blocks away and they're open all night."
Your stomach rumbles instead of her answering, and she beams a grin at you, but the request is such a normal thing to do, or a normal thing to do when you're friends, that your mind begins going into overdrive.
Sure, you didn't expect anything that's happened tonight, so you couldn't prepare yourself for this but a familiar cold chill creeps down your spine as she whips away, heading into her bedroom and returning moments later (having changed) with some clothes bundled up in her arms, throwing you a shirt and shorts before heading towards her purse and fishing out her phone. Because it's just such a normal thing to do and nothing about this is normal.
You haven't even talked about what the sex means, which you don't have to as you're both consenting adults now who don't need to have a reason to have sex, but it still feels like with your history, you should clear up any confusion. You respect her. You like the girl but you're a different person now, and you don't want her thinking that you're looking for anything deeper than what just happened because you aren't.
As much as you've missed her, your life just isn't built for dating at the moment. Maybe in time, you'll realise that you want more than booty calls and one-night stands with nameless blondes you pick up at the bar, and you can venture out into that, but right now it isn't, and you don't want to come across like a total jackass by saying that. You know she said that she isn't the relationship type, but what you two just had was like nothing else.
Every other sexual conquest is now paling in comparison and having a history, makes it difficult to define those lines.
But you've got to do it. You're not used to eating takeout with someone you've just fucked into next week, as you're usually sliding out the door without leaving your number and getting straight in the shower when you get home. You never really stick around, so you guess the discomfort is from more than one thing tonight and you shift in your spot, shrugging on the clothes thrown at you before you wander over to her, now dressed, leaning against the kitchen counter, and scanning over the menu she plucked out of a drawer at some point.
"Hey, Brittany?"
Brittany looks up and pauses, a soft smile creeping at her lips. "Yes, Santana?" She replies, using your full name like you did hers and it makes you feel less nervous as everything is lighter and fluffier when she slips into familiarity with you, but you're still nervous.
"I just wanted–" You pause as you lean against the counter, scrambling in your brain to find the right way to say this without coming across like a total douchebag. "I know we were just…" You start again, only trailing off as you look to the sofa, then the floor, then back to the counter you're leaning on and suck you lips into your mouth when you glance back at her. "But like," you clear your throat and you're totally not being casual about this, but you can't help it. "I know we were together once but I'm not… I'm not looking for a–"
"Santana," Brittany interrupts, your mouth snapping shut, and you see amusement in her eyes. "You really don't need to do that," she states, dipping her head and you know she gets what you were trying to say, but it's a shock to the system when you see it reflected back at you like she's thinking the same thing. "I wasn't lying," she shrugs and drops the menu, alongside her phone, to the counter, turning to grab at your hands so you're facing each other, arms swinging between you. "I move around too much to hold anything serious down, and I like being single," she explains, and something in your chest turns cold. You were about to say a similar thing, but it still doesn't sit well with you. "I just really wanted to fuck you again."
You choke out a laugh at her words, taken completely off guard by it and she grins smugly, matching the sound as she stares into your eyes. And you like this. This is easy. You can see that she really means it, and yeah, it's been ten years so you were scared if you had sex, feelings might come back, but you don't feel too different inside. Your mind is clearer, your chest is slightly lighter – it was even lighter before she said she enjoyed being single, but whatever – but you know you're also still in the aftermath of three times of having sex with someone who knows your body better than you do.
So you don't want to be fooled by anything.
"I know, I just… I respect you," you get out, feeling the need to explain that she also wasn't just a one-night stand either but not in a relationship kind of way, but she just shakes her head, apparently already knowing that and bobbing her head like she respects you, too. It makes you feel so much better.
"And I respect you, too," she agrees and you're about to exhale with a smile, but then she's talking, and you're shocked all over again. "I've just never met anyone that makes me come like you, so."
Before you can even react, there's a wink being shot your way and Brittany's picking up her phone again and asking you what you want to order, and you just let out a sigh of relief before telling her you still like Orange Chicken.
/
Somehow, Mercedes hears about you and Brittany hooking up.
Not that she told you herself, but you do get a text from Mercedes telling you she's on her way to see you and there's several exclamation marks which makes you roll your eyes.
She's probably found out somehow, potentially through Brittany seeing as they work together and all and you ponder on that whilst you're sat at your desk, staring out the large glass pane of your office in central LA after putting your phone on 'do not disturb'. But the clock hits 4 and you hear Mercedes before you can see her, telling your assistant to sit down as she doesn't care if you're in a business call.
You're not, but you just like being left the fuck alone and that's a usually a good way of doing it.
Still, you spin around in your chair and Mercedes doesn't even bother knocking – probably as she can see you're alone and not on the phone through the glass walls of your office – before she storms in and folds her arms as she reaches the desk, arms crossed and a judgemental expression on her face. Initially, you don't know what she's here for and why she's come in with such an attitude as her text didn't say much, but then you see her raise her eyebrow as your mouth drops open to ask and the question is silently answered.
Although she does still verbalise it. "You slept with Brittany?"
The door is still wide open, so you hiss at her and wave your hand at her to sit down as you slide out around your desk, shutting the damn thing so no-one hears about your sex life. Last thing you need is for people you work with to lose respect for you with confirmation that you sleep around. The fear they hold for your sharp tongue and toxic venom prevents them from asking themselves, and you'd like it kept that way.
"Jesus, Wheezy, shut the fucking door," you snipe before returning to your seat, running your hands down the front of your suit as you look up to her, now sat across from you. "Don't need my private life aired to anyone."
Mercedes rolls her eyes and leans her elbows on the desk, tilting her head to the side with a menacing glare. "Look, I get you two have a history and I might have encouraged it," she says and well yeah, she literally left you and Brittany alone at every chance she got. "But she's my employee and you're my best friend so I know what you're like with women, and you're both vital in my career," she explains and this time, you roll your eyes.
You're not her publicist, but you get why it would be awkward if things went badly with you and Brittany. You're at a lot of her shoots and tours and if Brittany's choreographing them, you're going to see each other a lot and if she's just another one night stand – which she isn't, but you haven't had a chance to explain that yet even if it were a onetime thing – then you could end up making shit awkward and disturbing Mercedes success if she starts getting feelings for you again.
(Something that prior to her waltzing in, you were excited about.)
(Well, not excited… You just didn't exactly dread the possibility.)
(Even if you're not looking for a relationship.)
"I don't need you and your dick–" her eyes flit to the desk you're sat on, but you know where she's really trying to look. "–Fucking things up," she finishes and points at herself. "Yes, it's selfish, but this is just the beginning for me, and I need you both in my life."
Seeing as you and Brittany have already gone over this, you don't get as irritated as you would if you hadn't, because you know it's all good between you and her. Neither of you want a relationship, there's been no talk of hooking up again – you're totally not opposed to it – but it's been a couple day since you saw each other, and it's been easy. There's been no pressure, and you haven't looked for anyone else to fuck into the early hours of the morning because you're good. Those three times were the equivalent of a hundred with other women and you've managed to start rebuilding a friendship with her over video calls and texts as you're both super busy with work.
Another reason why a relationship would be out of reach.
So, you bob your head, not letting your features harden like they usually would when someone tells you what to do – or not do – and you smile at your friend, lips sucked in. "And that's why we're just friends," you reply with a shrug.
But Mercedes doesn't buy it. "She was your first and last girlfriend," she points out. "And a few other things, too, apparently."
"Yeah, I'm aware," you throw back, trying not to sound too sarcastic but her deadpan expression lets you know it fails. You lean on to the desk, clasping your hands together and clench your jaw, finding the right way of saying this. You're not lying, so it shouldn't be hard, but Mercedes has a point; it is Brittany and something in your mind knows that. "But we spoke about it, and we just wanted to have sex," you explain, and dark eyes narrow your way, so you're going to be crude to put her off the scent. "We just wanted to… compare results as it's been a while," you smirk.
Her face twists with disgust and she scoffs. "Do not fucking tell me those results," she replies, and you let out a short laugh, resting back into your chair and gripping the arms.
"I'm serious," you entreat. "You know me… I'm not into relationships and all that crap," you wave a hand, emphasising your dislike towards love and the gross feelings stuff. "We're old friends and we just needed to get it out our systems."
Mercedes eyes you for a long moment, like she's trying to find a tell in your face, but you're not freaking lying and you don't know how else to prove it. You're not trying to hide anything as all you've said is the truth, and you don't think you're skipping on over any details – bar the ones she requested not to hear – so you don't get why she's not believing you. Okay, maybe there's a history there and there's obviously still a spark between you and Brittany, but you're good as just friends.
Maybe you can throw some benefits in at some point.
But for now… You really are just friends, so you can't convince her anymore if she isn't already believing you.
Still, she gets to her feet, clearly just coming here to yell at you but you're handling it way better than even you expected, so she must have got what she wanted and presses her palms into the desk, leaning over to you in a way you think she intends to be fierce. It's not. You kind of want to laugh at her as she's just so cute with her chubby cheeks, but you know that she means business as you and Brittany's friendship could cause issues, so you pretend like you're going to listen.
"Just don't hurt her," Mercedes insists, her voice hard and you frown, seeing the care she has for the blonde behind her eyes. You know they've been friends for years now, so you guess she loves Brittany, but it's weird to you because you're only learning of their friendship now.
Still, it's not like you're intending on hurting, nor do you think you're capable. "It's really not like that," you defend and lift a shoulder, lip pinching up to the side. "She doesn't want anything more, either."
Mercedes stares you out, leaning back up until she's straightened up and the confidence in your tone must be convincing, because she turns away, but not before pausing once she's opened the door, peering over her shoulder, and throwing you what you think is supposed to be a glare.
"Don't make me tell Rachel," she threats with a smirk before disappearing.
The smile just drops from your face.
/