Title: Above The Moon
Rating: NC-17
Word Count: 10.7k
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: Sorry for the delay! Life got in the way!
/
A week goes by, and you and Brittany choose to keep the news on the down low to everyone else until your first scan next week.
Well, apart from with Mercedes, Quinn, and Kitty who all text you relentlessly – you guess the blonde demon twins stole your number from Brittany's phone – and ask if you're definitely sticking with Brittany and getting everything she needs, like you promised. Obviously, you weren't lying and still aren't, so you say just that and throw in a gif of someone rolling their eyes as the entire conversations with them are full of the same question.
It's the early ages of pregnancy for Brittany though, so when you're not defending yourself, you spend the time reading books upon books and doing hours of research on the internet, finding out about the physical changes week by week and how Brittany's going to be feeling.
Apparently at 7 weeks pregnant, morning sickness and tiredness is common and so it doesn't come as a surprise that all the time you spend with her, she's looking a little green, yawning constantly, and saying that this is probably going to suck if this is how it's starting. It makes both of you laugh, and it feels entirely normal as she's still completely flat stomach wise and just looks like she needs to have a nap – she's still excruciatingly beautiful – and so it doesn't seem too out of the usual.
You bury the last part of your brain into work as well, knowing you need to seem completely normal to Rachel – who's super freaking nosey at the best of times – and it pays off as neither Kurt, Blaine or Rachel pick up on you acting differently and don't highlight how you haven't had a drink since last week, at the bar with Mercedes. You dodge a lot of their calls, settling for texts and updates that you're really busy so don't have time to chat, and when you get home after a day of doing all three things on repeat, you order as many pregnancy supplements as possible in large quantities.
Apparently folic acid, vitamin D and a wealth of green foods are the best thing for a baby this early on, and Brittany beams you the biggest smile when you turn up the morning of her first midwife appointment, grocery bag in hand and a wealth of vitamins stocked up and balanced awkwardly in your arms. It's manages to make the still very much there fear of becoming a parent hide and tucks itself away deep in your brain, replacing it with this low buzz of excitement and you choose to focus on that as you usher her to the kitchen stool and tell her you're making her breakfast.
She doesn't protest, and you wink at her as she watches you, head in her hands as you busy yourself in her kitchen, whilst she tells you where everything is. It feels way too domestic though, and that fear becomes creeping back as this past week has been mostly avoiding all the questions you should be asking her, like how she knew she was pregnant – even though she's kind of explained that – and it's as you're dishing out some eggs with healthy green crap in it that you think you need to ask some of the questions bouncing around inside your skull.
See, the thing is, is that you've been keeping your friendship very platonic, and you plan to continue doing so now as it doesn't seem appropriate to get some answers, even if some of them could be considered dangerous. You don't think Brittany's going to suggest or initiate anything further than a cuddle but still... You haven't had sex since the night before the wedding, and it's easy because you need to build up your friendship to where it was before, just without the emotions and stuff, and those types of things develop from talking about the vulnerable stuff.
But you need to be as close as you were before so you can raise this kid in a world that doesn't seem so shitty and that's what you want for him or her, and so you need to start off by getting some answers to the thousands of questions clouding your mind. Perhaps starting with an easy one that you have half an answer for already.
You're just treading carefully.
"Can I ask you something?" You say, dropping the pan into the sink and grabbing both plates, moving around the counter to slide on to the stool beside her as you hand her a plate. She takes it, whispering a small thank you and bobs her head as she turns to you. "How did you know?"
Brittany stops, fork hovering about her eggs and furrows her brow. "Know what?"
Your eyes flit down to her stomach. "That you were pregnant?"
"Oh," she jolts a little, pushes her food around the plate a little – even though she looked like she was about to devour it about three seconds ago and shrugs. "I had like, a weird period or what I thought was one," she starts, and you suck your lips into your mouth, showing you're listening intently. "My body just wasn't right and at first, I thought it was because of my change in diet but… I don't know… I just felt," she pauses to look you in the eye, squinting. "Weird, you know?"
You don't know, and you've honestly never been so happy to not have a female reproductive system as you can't even begin to imagine the anxiety around potentially being pregnant. Considering you two used a condom every time you slept together, that must not have been the initial explanation that Brittany thought of, so you're not surprised that she booked a doctor's appointment as it could've been something entirely different, but obviously not.
"So it was by chance?"
Brittany inhales deeply and nods her head, the fork pausing on the plate. "Yeah. I booked the appointment and almost forgot I had because we were having such a good day together," she reminds you and you try not to smile at the memory, but your chest still blooms with affection inside. "She did some checks and then asked me when I had my last period and I did some period math," you can't help but laugh when she says that, her eyes darting up to the ceiling like she's doing it right now. "Realised I was like, a day late and you know my cycle," she lifts a shoulder and your mind reels back to when you were teenagers, and how you'd always bring over painkillers, a hot water bottle and a selection of candy as she was right on time every 28 days.
"It was like clockwork and that never changed as I grew up, so it was weird and then the doctor did some bloods and I wanted to see you the same night because I was so anxious, so I did... But I got distracted and you made me feel better anyway," she recalls and heat floods to your cheeks, the memory of her climbing on top of you on the sofa, seducing you with a single look. That definitely wasn't when you got her pregnant, but you think with the intensity of that night that you could've done. That time was full of raw, animalistic passion and you couldn't stop kissing her and she couldn't stop kissing you and now you kind of understand why.
"But when the wedding came, I just…" Brittany doesn't finish her sentence, sucking her lips into her mouth and looking nervous. "I saw you in a different light and I just had to know, and the doctors hadn't got the results yet," she shrugs again, and you can honestly say you've never seen her shrug so much. She's scared, unsure, and you freaking hate that. You want to make her feel like you do around her; comfortable as anything. "And you know the rest," she finishes up and you stare at her, wanting so much more but knowing you've got plenty of time.
Almost 8 months, at least.
Although, the one thing that you pick up on more than anything is that you now know why she came to see you after going to the doctors. Now you know why she was so strange with you at the wedding, and it calms you down as you were still up in your head about upsetting her, even though you knew you couldn't have done. Brittany was just all sorts of occupied mentally, barely there in anything other than physical presence and so you decide that's enough for now and nod your head down towards her plate, signalling for her to try some.
She does with a grin, moaning loudly after the first mouthful and you push away the thought of how similar that sound is to the one she makes in bed, instead giggling as you tuck into your own food. You only look up when she nudges your ankle with her foot, and glance at her with cheeks full of egg, earning a laugh that you just want to bottle up and keep in your bedside table.
"Enjoying that?"
Brittany bobs her head and moans again, this time looking you dead in the eye and you almost choke on your mouthful. "This is amazing," she gets out and swallows loudly, her face breaking into a grin. "You can cook, you're hot as hell, you've got dollar and you're amazing in bed," she adds in, throwing in a wink that makes you grab at the counter, just so you don't fall off the stool. "Is there anything bad about you?"
You can't find anything to say in response, more focused on not choking on the bite you've just put in your mouth, but it seems you don't have to because Brittany just scrunches her face up at you and tells you to continue eating your delicious eggs before you go to the appointment.
So you do just that.
/
It's only when you're sat in the waiting room, ready to meet the midwife that will be tending to Brittany during the pregnancy, that it all gets very real.
Up until now, you were okay with keeping it to yourselves. Like you said, you've managed to act normal around your friends, doing work and personal research to tide over the nights you don't spent watching movies with Brittany (that no-one knows about) and you feel like a bit of an asshole for not telling Kurt at least as he'll be entirely offended when you do eventually do it. But he's been on his month long honeymoon with Blaine in Hawaii, and you don't want to put the limelight on you. He'll celebrate no doubt, after the initial anger towards not being told immediately, but you want to make sure like, with the appointment and everything and he should have his time to shine.
Not that you think for a second that Brittany's got like, a phantom pregnancy or anything. She's spent the last three days pushing her tits up and staring at them in the mirror whilst you've been around her, asking if they seem bigger to you which just made you gulp every damn time and stare at the ceiling, finding the will to push away the naked image of her in your head. She's got a perfect body, always has done, always will even when she balloons up during the later months, and you're really trying to not think about how you're going to go at least 9 months without sex.
You don't think it's appropriate to consider it with other people or with her, whilst she's pregnant. Not that you've had that conversation yet, but you're not a total ignorant asshole when it comes to her, and you know that discussing sex with other people would be entirely inconsiderate. That's one of the questions you're a little scared to ask. It's one of the riskier ones that you've been trying to avoid discussing as it kind of means talking about what you two are to each other and you've already done that.
You're friends that are having a baby, and just happen to be exes, and neither of you date so it's not like you'll start, but still. You can't behave how you did before with a new girl in your bed whenever you want.
But anyway, Brittany gets called in and the first thing the midwife does is comment on how incredible she looks, after flicking through the chart. Brittany hops up on to the bed, the midwife stares at you with confusion for a long minute as you go to stand beside her, returning to the clipboard in her hand before bobbing her head and silently accepting that you're the other parent. They don't need to know about your situation – you two could be a lesbian couple with female parts and got a sperm donor – and the fact the doctor appreciates that, doesn't question it, makes you feel ten times better.
Although you suppose at some point, you're going to have to reveal your secret as you're sure there's checks for like, genetic diseases and whatnot.
That's not right now though, and you choose to take in the room, sucking your lips into your mouth as you scan across the many sonograms pinned to the walls, as well as the thank you cards. It seems that you've got a good midwife, for which you're grateful, but the longer you look, the quicker everything just becomes a little more real. You've been reading stories and doing as much research online as physically possible, but you don't think anything could've prepared you for this.
One of those sonograms might be yours soon. One of those thank you cards might have yours and Brittany's signature in it, and that's because you're having a baby together.
Holy balls. Why is this refusing to sink in properly?
"San?" Brittany calls your name, and you spin around, unaware you've wandered across the room, and you whip your head left and right, noticing the lack of midwife, and the fact that Brittany's now dressed up in a gown, clambering back on to the chair with the metal stirrups at the feet but perching on it instead, and you're momentarily disappointed you didn't see her get changed. Not that you should be as she took her top off two days ago to eye up the size of her boobs and walked into the damn door in a desperate attempt to get out the room, so you didn't ogle too much, but still.
(She's just really fucking hot.)
You're trying to keep you two platonic, and with the amount of time you've spent with her in the past couple weeks, you know it's going to be a challenge. The first few weeks and you're already failing at containing the way you feel around her. Not to mention that technically, it's been a month since you two had sex, or you had sex with anyone other than you left hand, and you're really starting to feel that too. Alongside the nausea and fatigue, Brittany's started to have small mood swings which can make her go from crying to happy in two seconds, as well as adorable to sexy and sexy is something you're going to struggle to handle.
Especially as she keeps flirting with you.
Still you shake yourself out your thoughts and look at her expectantly. "Uh, yeah?"
Brittany giggles as she looks at you, eyes flitting to the wall you were just staring at and raises an eyebrow. "It's scary, isn't it?"
You frown. "Scary?"
"We're going to be sending a thank you card at some point," she explains, and the blood drains out of your face when you hear it out loud. Those specific cards have pictures of happy families attached to them, and you can't help but feel this dread sink in that hasn't been there before.
Sure, you've experienced a hell of a lot of emotions in two weeks, but you're beginning to think about after the baby comes now as you've Googled freaking everything about the stage before that, and Brittany thinking it too makes you wonder how you two are going to do this as you're not going to be a typical happy family. You'll probably live in different places and have separate lives and there won't be a grinning portrait of the three of you as this isn't like that.
That kind of sucks.
"Yeah," you breathe, bobbing your head and folding your arms across your chest as you head to her. "Just a little."
Brittany holds your eye and smiles, in a way that makes you think she's totally where you are but also doubting something, and it makes you feel mostly better. But before you can see if that's actually the case, the midwife comes back in, rainbows, and smiles and begins asking the necessary questions as she fills in a form attached to a clipboard. As expected, the question of the assumed sperm donor comes up, to which Brittany giggles lightly and just slides her eyes to you, saying it's not a donor and you just shrug at the midwife who doesn't push, even now, and instead scribbles something down.
She asks Brittany where she lives, if she's ever had any other children or pregnancies – which you find out is a no, and your chest releases – and then if she uses any recreational drugs and how much alcohol she drinks. They're just generic bits of information, but as you listen, all you can think about is how you can answer every single one bar the prior pregnancy one. Prior to these two weeks, you were texting and video calling, and sharing unimportant parts of your day, but it seems that it's kickstarted the friendship you used to have, back when you were teenagers, and you start smiling to yourself as you think that you still know her, even after years and years.
It's probably a good thing that you're having a baby together and not with someone else, and it gives you a confidence you didn't have before because Mercedes asking you if your history would make things harder has been nagging at the back of your brain, and now you're seeing why she's wrong about that. Having this history is going to make this easier – hopefully – and so you just listen intently, continuing to silently answer the questions that you aren't asked, until the midwife asks Brittany to get up.
She takes her weight and height, works out her BMI and then takes her blood pressure before asking for a urine sample. The explanation is that it's a simple test to look for signs of something called pre-eclampsia, despite the blood pressure readings not indicating such a thing as of yet, and both you and Brittany look at each other with confusion until your mind clicks and you think about reading the horrible section about complications and you sort of freeze.
But you know it's not time to do that. This is what you're here for, to make Brittany feel better and you reach over, taking Brittany's hand and lean towards her, her head turning at the motion and then you're a little closer than expected. You freeze again, for a whole other reason this time and swallow thickly, silently cursing the way she smirks at you when she hears it, but you force yourself to talk. You were about to explain something, and you shouldn't get lost in the colour of her eyes. There's more important matters at hand.
"It's just a test to make sure you're both okay… It's a safety measure," you get out, not wanting to explain how it ends if pre-eclampsia doesn't get treated, and the midwife just grins and drops her clipboard in front of her, cocking her head to the side.
"You don't have any indicators of it so far, but we like to make sure," she says, backing you up and Brittany exhales loudly, bobbing her head which makes a strand of hair fall over her face and instinctively, you reach over, stroking it back and tucking it behind her ear and grinning at her. This time, she's the one to swallow thickly and you're the one to smirk, but you're interrupted when the midwife speaks again.
"I'm sure you two will be fine. You'll make wonderful parents," she announces, and you clear your throat and step back, but continue clutching onto Brittany's hand. "How long have you been together?"
You're fairly sure that's not in the list of questions, and quickly check she isn't looking at the clipboard again – which she isn't – but before you can even choke over a response as you definitely aren't with Brittany and if a stranger thinks that you are just because you tucked her hair behind her ear, you're totally screwed when it comes to anyone else. There's going to be so many questions from anyone who asks who the other parent is when they see Brittany's eventual bump, and now you have an idea of how it's going to come across.
Brittany's your ex and is having your baby. You're either automatically an asshole, or people are going to assume you're lying and that's so not going to help you continue resisting her in any other way than a friendly one.
"Uh, we're not," Brittany stutters out, taking the lead on answering the question. "We're just friends."
Something about it hits your lungs badly, but you duck your chin to your chest and clear your throat, wanting to come across as awkward instead of defensive. There's no need to be defensive and the midwife apologises softly, not looking embarrassed and more doubtful than anything, but begins chatting away about the next appointment and telling you that she's got some information from today and the previous tests, for you to take home.
She disappears for only a minute, returning with a large beige folder and tells you about the digital copy you can download if physical paperwork isn't your thing, and it brings the lightness back as the whole friend thing was a little awkward to explain, and you and Brittany share a smile. It's awkward too, mostly because that's the first time someone has mistaken your relationship and she's not even showing yet, and you take note to perhaps not to shit like push back her hair in front of people. That's not very friendly.
Anyway, the midwife tells you the appointment is over, and you're shocked, feeling like you've only been here for 5 minutes. In reality, it's been like, almost an hour and you watch the midwife drop the folder to the end of the bed as Brittany hops off and disappears behind a partition you didn't notice before. That explains why you didn't see her change before, and this time you're not focused on that, instead you look at the documents and it hits you what's inside.
That folder contains information about a baby. A baby that's half yours and half Brittany's.
You almost faint at the thought.
"Is this your moment?"
You blink yourself out of your trance, finding yourself looking at Brittany who's still not out from behind the partition, but can obviously sense your silence and it calms you a little. She doesn't even need to see you to feel the shift in the air. You don't think she's even stolen a glance to check whilst you were gazing in shock and you twist around, ignoring the beige folder and stepping toward the thing separating you, watching blonde hair bob along the top as she changes.
"What moment?"
A giggle comes from behind the partition and Brittany pokes her head up, blue eyes peering over the top. "When you realise this is real," she explains, and you're confused for a good few seconds before it clicks and you nod your own head, thinking that yeah, this is your moment.
You thought you'd had a few before, like when she told you, when you told Mercedes, when you ordered like a hundreds of dollars' worth of pregnancy supplements, but not quite like the one you just had. Staring at that beige folder, which is scientific evidence that this isn't just words anymore, is sinking in hot and heavy and you can feel the fear creep up your spine. You can feel the intensity of needing to read about whatever the hell is in there, because it's proof that you two really are going to have a baby.
So you can't help but laugh wryly, rubbing the back of your neck and feeling the sweat that's gathered there, but you also want to know something as it's a clear indicator that Brittany's had her moment. That's why she could recognise your own. "You've had one?"
"When I saw those two little lines on the test," Brittany answers without a beat, pausing for a few seconds before stepping out, fully clothed once more, and pulling blonde hair from where it's tucked down the back of her shirt. "It's different for everybody," she shrugs and comes towards you, reaching out to grab your hands and it instantly quells the panic growing inside. As long as you two stick together, you can totally do this. "But speaking of…" She draws off, holding your eyes and squeezing your hands. "When do you want to tell people?"
People is a bit of a vague demographic. The most important people you need to tell are your immediate friends and your parents, and you're not sure which will be easier to start with. On one hand, telling Kurt, Blaine, and Rachel when the two gays get back from their honeymoon seems like the ideal time as they'll be in high spirits. It'll be around 10 weeks by then, after another check-up and that's only 2 weeks away from the second trimester, which is when this type of thing is usually announce. So far, you've only heard positive things about the baby, and how healthy both it and Brittany, and so it doesn't seem unusual to do it soon but…
You're just not ready. You don't know how to be ready either.
So instead of answering, you decide to ask another question. "Who do you want to tell?"
Brittany sucks in her lips, brow furrowing for the quickest second before she's smiling softly. "My parents obviously, and my sister," she starts, and you bob your head.
That's slightly nerve-wracking as you haven't seen the rest of the Pierce's in over a decade now, but also because when you do, you'll be telling them that you knocked up their daughter. Something they desperately tried to avoid back in high school by putting Brittany on contraception – regardless of the period excuse that was given – and having a strict open door policy, but you're aware that you two have grown up and you're adults now and the last night you two spent together, Whitney allowed the door to be closed and you two took advantage of that.
You can make adult decisions including this one though, and so you can't be scared as you can already hesitation and the beginning of fear behind blue eyes, and you know that telling her parents are going to be way easier than telling yours. You have a good relationship with your mom, but she's hardly your biggest supporter in terms of women anyway, and as much as she loved Brittany when you were younger, she probably isn't going to take too kindly to the fact you're not together, nor getting married.
She's a little old fashioned like that, and your dad… Damn. Your dad is probably going to clip you around the ear, having explained multiple times when you were starting out your sexual journey that you needed to use your other brain carefully and always be safe. Regardless of whether you used protection or not – you almost cringe thinking about having to explain that to them to avoid having your balls ripped off – they're not going to be happy, even if you know they'll always welcome Brittany back as she made you into a nice person. Something no-one else managed to do and the year that you spent together, you grew close to your parents in a way that you hadn't before.
"Most of my girls already know, so I'm not too bothered about confirming as Quinn's probably already told them," Brittany adds on, breaking you from your thoughts and studying you like she knows you were up in your head. "I can come with you to tell your parents, San," she says without you even mentioning it and it really does amaze you that she can still read you like a goddamn book. "Your dad will be okay with it. He loves me," she winks, and it makes you laugh, but it doesn't make you feel any easier because it's been a while and with the news you're going to deliver, you're not sure that even Brittany can soften that blow. "And if you don't mind coming with me to tell mine."
Your head snaps up and you're nodding rapidly. You shouldn't have been thinking about your parents; you should've been thinking about hers and you're really going to have to kick that into touch because Brittany's your priority now. You've got to stop thinking about yourself first, even though since your relationship with her, you've always been a selfish bitch. It made you successful, but that's a major part of you that you're going to need to change as you're not going to be priority in your own life for the next 18 years or so.
"Obviously," you choke out, bobbing your head and biting down on your bottom lip. "Do you want to do it over Facetime or…"
Brittany narrows her eyes, and you know the answer instantly. "I'd prefer face to face, considering it's you and all," she explains, and you can't help but smile. The Pierce's aren't like yours, but they're like a pack of wolves and defend each other vehemently and had it been some random guy knocking her up, you can't imagine they'd take to well to it. But it's you, and you two have a history and that's another pro on the list of reasons why your history will be a benefit here.
They probably won't tear you a new asshole.
"I think that's a good idea with my parents, too," you smile weakly back at her, still entirely panicking over telling your dad but your mom will be there too. "Maybe we should start with Kurt, Rachel and Blaine," you add on, knowing that can be like a practise run. If anyone's going to physically hit you, it'll be one of them – not Blaine, as you'd smack his teeth out if he even tries to offer a negative opinion – but you know they're a good place to start. "They can be our guinea pigs."
Brittany giggles and nods her head, squeezing your hands tightly before glancing over your shoulder and looking at the time, and you know immediately where she's going with this. "How about next week?" She asks, holding your eyes once more. "On Friday. I know you guys see each other every week when you can, so maybe we can invite them over to yours and order in a pizza or something seeing as I can't drink anymore," she giggles, and it makes you do the same thing.
That's how you met, at your usual bar on a usual Friday night, and you don't think you've talked about that tradition many times, but it sinks in that, regardless of repetition, she's obviously taken interest in your life and remembered a lot about it. Kind of like when you first met, and she remembered you sat next Jewfro in Spanish class and said she knew your name. She was watching you, being observant and caring when you were a stranger to her. You can't help but grin, silently accepting and she grins back at you, kissing you on the cheek just once before dropping your hands and gathering her stuff.
You're going to tell them next week.
/
You decide to go with the idea of inviting your friends over for pizza instead of going to the bar like normal, and Mercedes comes along too which is a lot easier as she helps explain why you aren't going to get your usual drink and taking up your usual bar. Kurt bombards you with texts regardless, saying he doesn't know how to dress to go to a friend's house as he hasn't done that since he was sixteen, and you just roll your eyes and tell him it's important and that shuts him up.
Anyway, at 7 on the dot, after you've done a quick clean with Brittany of your apartment which she's entirely comfortable in – you love and hate that – there's a knock on the door and you head towards it, finding your friends on the other side. Kurt immediately glares at you after poking his head over the top to see Brittany, already there, sat on the sofa and he doesn't break eye contact as the Rachel and Blaine kiss you on the cheek and head inside, clapping as they notice the presence of the blonde behind and making a big fuss – everyone loves Brittany – but you push past him to hug Mercedes, wanting a second with her to see how persistent and suspicious your friends were on the ride over.
You're going to need a heads up if anything's been said already and you're a safe distance away now that Kurt won't be able to eavesdrop successfully.
"Hey," you whisper and take her scarf, pretending like you're being a doting host, but obviously you have an ulterior motive.
Mercedes grins over your shoulder and returns to looking at you, trying to seem like the cheery queen she usually is but the smile fades when your eyes meet. "Girl, lying to Kurt is hard."
You laugh and bat her shoulder, knowing you need to appear normal as you can still feel Kurt's eyes on you. You are being weird after all. You're about to tell your friends that you and the person you were convincing was just a friend and nothing more – regardless of your relationship status once upon a time – are having a baby. Kurt knows you two slept together, but this is a whole other ball game and so you know how hard it is to lie to him. He's like a human lie detector and the only reason you've gotten away with it recently is because he's literally been in another country.
Otherwise, he probably would've seen straight through you.
"I know, but that's why you guys are here," you quickly reply and put a grin on your face, twisting around to face your other friends, keeping your lips as still as possible as you continue. "We're gonna tell you."
Mercedes breath hitches in her throat, an attempt at stopping from gasping loudly but you see Kurt's vision flit to him, which is quickly followed by Blaine and then Rachel as no-one is paying attention to her anymore, but you just choose to toss your friends scarf on the back of the sofa and head over, sitting directly next to Brittany. She sits up, her arm winding around your waist and you know it's obvious as the three pairs of eyes shoot to you, but Mercedes doesn't highlight it and clears her throat, holding up two wine bottles you didn't know she was holding.
"Where's the glasses?"
/
Surprisingly, you manage to avoid making the announcement until after choosing where you're ordering pizza from.
Which is only ten minutes, but that's ten minutes longer than you thought you'd get.
Kurt, unsurprisingly, is the one to ask why you wanted them to come over for pizza as the bartender can order one for you at the bar which you're aware of as you did that not long ago, but you just look to Brittany, and she nods her head. She reaches over to grab your hand, and you rest your spare one over the back of hers, squeezing gently like it's going to give you the confidence to do this, but it's nerve-wracking.
This isn't exactly something you've had to do before, and yeah there's a lot of benefits as you impregnated Brittany out of everyone that you've slept with, but it's still going to change the path of your life and you're also a little scared they're going to yell at you for being irresponsible, even if you weren't but they don't know that. Not to mention the first thing Mercedes said when you told her was if your history is going to make it harder, but you know it won't.
So far, it's only made it easier.
Anyway, you've got to do this, and you choose to take the lead, swallowing thickly and wetting your dry lips, wishing you'd had more than half a glass of wine for some liquid courage, but that time has gone, so you've just got to say it. "Britt and I have something to tell everyone."
All three of your friends gasp, clutch their chests and grab at each other with their spare hands in a mess of limbs, almost like they practised it, but you just screw your face up incredulously. They're all so dramatically gay and you'd usually mock them, but you feel Brittany squeeze your hand gently like she's sensing where your head is going, and swallow that urge, instead settling for a large roll of your eyes which Mercedes mirrors, looking entirely unimpressed in the armchair across from you.
"Are you two back together?"
It's not what you were expecting, and you choke at Kurt's question, unable to twist your surprise into a scowl as that's now the second person to assume something about you and Brittany, but you also know what it looks like right now and that news would be easier to give. But unfortunately, you're not back together – or fortunately, but not in a bad way and you're still to ask that question as you're chicken shit – and you shake your head, which makes your three friend's faces drop with disappointment.
"No, no… We're still just friends," you get out and inhale deeply, preparing the words in your mind as those ones settle uncomfortably. It's beginning to get annoying hearing that, even though Brittany only said it the other day at the midwife appointment. You see Mercedes bob her head slightly out the corner of your eye at Brittany, and silently thank her for doing so as you're just staring at your friends now, and you know you've just got to say it. "But Brittany's pregnant."
For the second time, there's a round of gasps and dramatic reactions. Rachel's jaw goes slack, Blaine blinks rapidly at the both of you as he looks between, and Kurt nearly falls off the damn sofa before he's clutching at his husband again and they're all leaning toward you, like you whispered it. You didn't, but you think they want you to repeat but you're safely assuming that they heard and are just in disbelief.
You get that, more than anything. It wasn't so long ago you were in their very shoes.
"Brittany's what?"
You turn your head, eyes flitting to the side to take in the way Brittany's already looking back at you, urging you on and being your support. You release a breath you didn't know you were holding, your lips turning into an 'o' shape as you exhale, and the corners of her lips twitch up into a small smile and you swear you could get lost in her eyes when she looks at you like that. But you need to confirm and get back to what you were doing and force yourself to glance away to respond.
"Brittany's pregnant, and it's mine," you repeat, but with additional information but unlike the last two times, you don't get an immediate reaction.
You get the total opposite, complete silence, which is more annoying than them being overly emotional because it means you can't read them. Kurt's no longer glaring at you, just staring intently, Rachel looks all types of confused as her eyes dart between you and Brittany, and Blaine just sighs loudly, clasping his hands together and looking super happy for you, but you don't really care about his reaction. He's just here as a tag along, and you care more about Rachel and Kurt as she's your client, and best friend, and so is Kurt.
Even if you bitch out at them a lot.
Luckily though, after a few uncomfortable minutes of everyone just looking around, Mercedes moving to the edge of her seat to see if the others are still breathing as she's at an angle, someone speaks and you have to admit, it kind of makes you laugh.
"Does this mean you're not going to be my publicist anymore?" Rachel asks, her voice strained as she hasn't spoken in at least two minutes – freaking world record – and considering you were envisioning them yelling at you, this is so much better.
Kurt, however, doesn't seem so amused and clicks his tongue, screwing his face up in disgust as she looks to her. "So selfish."
Blaine begins laughing, Brittany does and then Mercedes does too, so you don't think it's going the way you initially thought, and as much as normally you'd release some venom at Rachel as she's an easy target, you're kind of grateful that that's where she went after such an announcement. Sure, it's selfish, just like Kurt said, but it also means that she isn't being a total dick and judging you instantly which you kind of expected from her of all people, and the atmosphere is lighter now.
Like you didn't just tell them you and Brittany are going to be parents in the not-so-distant future.
"What?" Rachel squeaks, trying to look innocent but you know the bitch within far too well and see straight through it. "It's my career."
This time, it does evoke a venomous response from you. "Can it, troll," you snipe, feeling your palms clammy as they slide in Brittany's when you shift in your seat, but it's just a reminder she's still holding your hand and you can totally face this. "It's our lives and this is the most important thing that'll ever happen to either of us," you start and Brittany nods beside you, staying silent but these are your friends and Mercedes already knows, which Kurt picks up on as he turns his head and notices the complete lack of reaction from her and scowls. Great. Now you've got to deal with that. "But this is happening, and you guys can be supportive or not, but that'll decide where we go as friends from here."
You're fully aware you're basically threatening to cut off your friendships with them, which should highlight to you how serious and protective you still are over Brittany and your unborn child, but it doesn't create a bad reaction. If anything, Kurt is surprised but proud as his scowl that formed a second ago at realising he wasn't the first to know, quickly changes into a pursed lip smile, his head bobbing, and his husband mirrors it, Rachel finally getting over being a selfish bitch moment and doing exactly the same thing before talking again.
"I think I can safely say for all of us that we'll support you," she says and reaches over, setting her hand on top of yours and Brittany's and smiling. "It'll be great for my image when I get snapped holding your baby," she adds on and there it is.
You're not the only one to click your tongue at her.
/
Later on, you're in the kitchen grabbing some plates and cutlery – Rachel insists on eating a pizza slice with a knife and fork because she's just that type of annoying – and you're cornered.
Kurt comes in, having been staring at you for the past half an hour and you know he's the least self-involved so has a plethora of questions to throw your way, so it doesn't surprise you. But you kind of wish you'd sensed he was going to come and wish that Brittany uses her Santana senses and somehow knows you need rescuing, because the questions he asks aren't too supportive and begin that scratching that you managed to quell after telling Mercedes, come alive all over again.
But it doesn't start off that way, so you know your energy is innocent until he speaks.
"What are you doing?"
You look at the stack of plates in your hand and raise a brow at him. "Are these invisible?"
Kurt shoots you a deadpan expression and leans against the doorway, blocking your exit when you step towards him. "With Brittany, asshole," he elaborates, and the smile drops from your face. "Are you sure this is the best thing for both of you?"
Having had this conversation with him before about what would happen should you knock someone up, you know his stance on accidental pregnancies. It sits well within your beliefs, and so you know it's not coming from that place but that's worse. You know he's talking about the history between you two, as after the first night Brittany came sweeping back into your life, you told him a lot more information that you didn't share with the rest of the table, and he knows that you've slept together three times.
Still, it's not like you want to go through this again. "We made the decision together a few weeks ago but didn't want to say anything until the first trimester was coming up," you explain, even though it's not really answering his question, cocking your head to the side, and trying to come across as sassy. You're fairly sure it doesn't come across like that though as his glare continues. "You know I'm okay with it as it's not like I back down from what I believe in and we both want this," you throw in a shrug. One of the reasons you and Kurt bonded at that pride parade was because you were fighting for the same cause and share similar beliefs and you're hoping that'll help here.
But he doesn't say anything for a long while, and it makes you feel very uneasy until he eventually does. "How do you know about trimesters?" He gawks, and seeing as he's making light of this you know he really does support you and the concern is purely out of concern. You can't really blame him.
"Google exists, asshole," you spit in the same tone as him, scowling quickly but smiling swiftly afterwards. "I've been reading up on everything," you quietly admit, feeling sheepish as you glance down to the plates in your hand. You feel weird saying that as it's totally out of the unusual Santana Lopez moves that Kurt's become acquainted to – you're always all about you – but whatever. You're going to have to get used to this. "I'm serious about that baby."
Kurt bobs his head, and you move to step around him, but his hand comes down to set on to yours to halt the movement and your eyes flit up to meet his concerned ones. "Are you two getting back together?"
That was asked earlier, and you thought you'd skipped over it, but you know again, it's not coming from a bad place, so you answer honestly and firmly. You're not going to repeat yourself again after this time.
"We were kids when we were together," you say and lift a shoulder. "We're both completely different people now and it's not like that," you decide to repeat something you said to him the first night you saw Brittany. Admittedly, that kind of changed as you've slept together three times since then which he's aware of and is probably asking because of, but it still stands. Even if you're yet to talk to her about that. "We're just friends who are having a baby."
"What about dating other people?"
You narrow your eyes. "Neither of us did that before, so I can't imagine that's going to change."
Kurt hums but still doesn't move and you swear you're three seconds away from kicking him square in the burrito. "What about that guy she was seeing?" He asks and honestly, you'd kind of forgotten about that. You were far more concerned about why Brittany was being off at the wedding and in fear that it was because of you. "Where are you two going to live when the baby comes? How are you going to date and how do you choose who looks after the baby on what night?"
It's some of the questions that were lingering in your mind, but you'd managed to push them back and fuss over everything possible, but you know that it was inevitable. You knew that at some point, you'd have to sit Brittany down and ask stuff like this as the pregnancy isn't the hardest part to deal with. Her being pregnant means that you can stay over hers if she isn't feeling well, or at yours and you can get comfortable as you have separate lives, but that baby being born will change that up completely.
That's going to be a major issue to deal with as you've heard the stories from people with kids and know you can't be a vacant parent that isn't there as much as possible, on the end of the phone instead of in the bed beside him or her. That's something you're sure you won't be able to do, but you need to talk to Brittany as you have no idea what it means. If you did stay at each other's, it's not like you could bring other people back, and you're not together so you wouldn't move in with each other either, but you just… You don't know.
You need to talk to her.
And reply to Kurt. He's still freaking staring at you with a furrowed brow and pursed lips.
"Brittany hasn't mentioned that guy so I'm pretty sure that's dead," you respond with a firm tone. "And we haven't talked about it yet. We're taking things one step at a time."
It seems to settle him, so he waits for a good ten seconds before standing aside and finally let you through, but not without getting the last word in.
"You should probably figure that out before she starts showing."
You don't get to throw anything back before he's darting out with a tip of his head and a knowing smile on his face that you just want to throw a plate at.
/
After ordering way too much pizza, everyone is stuffed.
You all finish off the wine Mercedes brought over – although you end up drinking soda as Brittany obviously can't join in and you didn't want her feeling alone – and watch a movie and talk about everything that you usually do on a Friday night, and you'd be embarrassed to admit out loud that you're having a really good time. Having a change of scenery and Brittany here who wins everyone over again and again, is just making you feel all fluffy and light inside in a way that you haven't before during these kind of nights and you kind of don't want it to end.
Yeah, sure, you're usually in the usual bar and searching out the next conquest whilst Mercedes and Rachel argue over who's had more paparazzi chasing them that week, and Kurt and Blaine talk about something sickeningly gay like their love for each other, but this allows you to actually listen, and Brittany doesn't judge you when you release Snixx a couple of times towards Rachel when she tells everyone that her ex-gigolo boyfriend has been texting her.
You're so not dealing with that shit all over again both professionally and personally.
But anyway, the night draws to an end and all four of your friends get up, kiss you and Brittany on the cheek and then leave. Brittany tells you she's going to help you clear up, and prior to Kurt cornering you in the kitchen, you would've felt excited, but it brings up an opportune moment to get some answers to questions you're yet to ask, and you've been purposefully avoiding that. Having had a good time, both of you are in a good place and she hasn't been flirting as much – probably due to prying eyes – so you don't feel like you're in a danger zone.
Not that you can get her pregnant again, but you're not sure sleeping together would do any good in regard to you two being friends. Plus, Kurt kindly reminded you about that guy she was seeing, even if it wasn't serious, and you now can't get that out your head. You never really considered that she might want to date if she's going to become a mother and it would be in the near future as she'll start showing soon. Or maybe not; you don't know how she's going to pop but you know she will at some point and that will naturally put a stint in her sex life.
Not that she had much of a sex life prior to you since apparently she's only slept with you since she moved to the city and if your memory is right, that's a year now.
Which just creates more questions.
But you've got to start with a basic one. One that you're dying to know, and not know if it turns out to be an answer you don't want to hear. Although you're not sure what that answer is yet. You'll see how you feel, and as you look at her, tidying up the plates and dumping them in the sink, scrunching her face up at you and telling you she needs to pee again, you know you've got to do it. You fire a smile at her and watch her walk up the spiral staircase to your office bathroom and think over how you're going to do it.
You don't get to think for long before she's coming down them, grasping the metal railing and lifting her eyebrows up at you as you haven't moved from when she left, pausing halfway down the staircase, and calling your name. "San? You okay?"
You kickstart yourself into moving again, blinking rapidly and bob your head. "Yeah, yeah," you confirm, and you see her relax as she climbs down the rest of the stairs and moves over to you, rubbing your shoulders as you sit down on the sofa. You peer over your shoulder and meet her eye, sucking your lips into your mouth and pretending like you're not nervous about this conversation. "Can we talk for a second?"
"Sure," Brittany chirps, rounding the sofa and sitting down beside you, one leg curling as it comes up on the cushions, knee pressing into your thigh and she lets her hands fall into her lap, waiting for you to speak.
"Are you like…" You start and snap your mouth shut, silently cursing yourself as you don't want to be rude, but you need to be direct. "Are you like gonna date people still– " You choke, and Brittany's brows shoot up to her hairline, obviously caught off. "Are we allowed to or what?"
"Uh," Brittany fidgets a little, wetting her lips and looks at you softly. "I haven't really thought about it, to be honest."
It makes you feel better, but also doesn't because it means you're both going to have to think about it and talk about it right now, and that just makes it feel pressured. You don't want to imagine her banging other people or even dating them with your unborn child going with her, but you know that's not fair. After your child is born, you're both going to have 18 years that are never going to be the same and you already know you're going to surrender your single and loving it lifestyle as this has put a spanner in the works, but you're cool with that.
(The fact you are is still freaking you out, but you're not going to question it.)
"What about that guy?" You decide to go towards facts instead of emotion. Maybe it'll be easier to deal with. "You said you went out for a date or whatever."
"I wasn't dating him," she shoots back, lips pressed together, and brow furrowed. "I told you I was just seeing him and that's long gone," she shrugs, and you let out a breath you didn't know you were holding. "Plus it's not like it's entirely appropriate," blue eyes drop to her flat stomach, and you gulp. "But you're free to do what you want," she adds on and looks you in the eye, but you don't see her twitch and it doesn't hit you well.
She's okay with you dating or sleeping with other people, which should be a relief as it means you don't have to change your entire life, but you just don't think you want to do that. You know you'll have a different mindset when you've got all that pent up sexual frustration, and feeling completely blue-balled as it's not like you two are talking about you sleeping together, but… You don't know. It just doesn't feel right hearing it and that's kind of an asshole move, so that's what leaves your mouth.
"Isn't that like, an asshole thing to do?"
Brittany reaches over and grabs the back of your hand, lowering her chin to her chest but holding the eye contact. "We aren't together, San," she explains and yeah, you're very aware of that. "Neither of us want that and even said it before this happened," she sweeps down to her belly. "We're friends and maybe even best friends now," she chirps, looking entirely happy with the status but all you can do is gulp. "If you want to date, and if I want to date, then we should… We've got years and years of diapers and crying in the middle of the night coming soon and yeah, we can hook up easily because we're both insanely hot, but that's going to be a challenge that I definitely don't want to take on when I'm the size of a house," she shrugs again, and you chew on your bottom lip.
She's got a point, as you should be using this time wisely and it'll just reinforce that you're really just friends who are having a baby to not only yourselves, but to your friends too. They all seemed dubious, and at one point or another, they all shared a smirk when you touched Brittany during the night, or she touched you or you smiled at each other – you're just really friendly with each other – and they didn't know what you two were like in high school. You were best friends as well as girlfriends, and yeah, okay that behaviour may be overlapping a little in this friendship, but there's no feelings.
Just a baby. You know, the normal thing for friends to have in common.
Still though, you don't like what she's saying to you, but it's not like you can argue as everything she's saying is accurate. Before you found out that she was pregnant, you both had the talk about what it meant for you two, having sex and all, and that neither of you wanted to date. Your lives weren't suitable for something like that and now even less so.
So, you choose to push it aside and focus on how dry your mouth is as that's an easy way out of this specific conversation.
"Good point," you finally utter and push to your feet, turning to stare down at her but blue eyes dart around your body, watching the movement then up to meet your eyes. "I'm gonna get a drink. Do you want one?"
Brittany tilts her head to the side, almost like she wants to push you as your response wasn't exactly convincing, but she doesn't do it. "A glass of water would be great."
You flash a smile at her, forcing it to be as normal as real before turning away and heading for the kitchen.
At least you can have sex again.
(Even if you think it's going to feel wrong now.)
/
Hope you liked it!