Above The Moon Chapter 10, a glee fanfic

Title: Above The Moon
Rating: NC-17
Word Count: 12.5k

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: Another update because I've been slacking... Think you will enjoy this!

As expected, you don't see Brittany for the rest of the week.

It's been weird between you, even though you're acting normally and still calling and texting her like all the time, even when Rachel tells you that there was some bad press on a small Broadway blog about her that you obviously missed out on, but you've been distracted. Getting with someone else was supposed to make you feel better, and as the days go by, you reason that it's normal as you've only slept with Brittany in the past couple months and hooking up with someone new after something like that is going to make you feel weird.

Still, it doesn't change the plans and you buy the plane tickets to Florida to visit her parents, and you tell Brittany over a video call, and she grins widely, showing excitement and not an ounce of fear.

A fear that you very much feel, especially as you're getting on the plane, and she begins talking about her younger sister and how excited she's going to be to see you again. It's been a long ten years, but it is a welcome distraction as it means you two don't talk about you hooking up with someone else in a bar, and her failed date with Jean, and that's okay.

It also helps that you got over your fear of flying as you grew up, which confuses Brittany as she grabs your hand and asks if you're okay when the plane takes off, but you just tell her that you've been all over America and Europe with Rachel as she likes to see the world and is a huge history nerd, and that's something you haven't mentioned before so it takes up the conversational time spent getting to Florida and makes everything feel good between you.

Before you know it though, you're getting off and grabbing your luggage, throwing Brittany's rucksack over your shoulder, and tugging the suitcases behind you as she hails a cab, and you climb inside. The journey goes by in a blur, and soon enough you're rolling up to a large white house that resembles a Greek mansion, and you're momentarily surprised as Brittany's family were never that wealthy, but you guess all the relocating came with financial compensation and they must have saved up.

You slide out the back, taking your bags from the taxi driver who tips his hat at you as you pay him with a hefty tip, and every nerve inside your body ignites when you're left stood on the sidewalk, staring up at the place with your head tilted back and eyes wide. It only continues happening because you catch a curtain twitch out the corner of your eye and you know that you've got a few moments before you're dragged back into a world that you thought was left behind.

Which quickly leads you to the question of whether they know about you being back in Brittany's life. You probably should've asked that on the journey here, but you were far too distracted with thinking of things to talk about that didn't involve either of your dating lives or what happened last week.

"Brittany?" You call, your voice strained, and she grabs onto your hand, squeezing as concern etches over her face.

"What's wrong?"

You swallow thickly and slide your eyes to her. "Do your family know about me yet?"

She laughs through her nose and shakes her head, affection clouding her features. "Of course they do," she confirms, and you drop your shoulders, exhaling heavily. "I wouldn't ambush you, San," she giggles and your body floods with cool relief. "Plus… We've kind of got bigger things to tell them."

Yeah, you know, but you were really concerned that that piece of information wasn't the only one they were going to get, but you suppose if they know you're back in Brittany's life, that they may be so overwhelmed with happiness at the reunion that telling them about the baby won't be that big of a deal. Probably wishful thinking, but you repeat that to yourself inside your mind because they really liked you when you were kids, with Jaime always wanting to show you her new toys and Whitney asking you about fashion, despite your obsession with that one leather jacket.

So you think that okay, maybe this won't be so bad, but when Brittany drops your hand and begins heading down the pathway, you frown because you were kind of hoping she was going to make you feel better by literally holding your hand as you stepped back into the Pierce household. But she must sense it, pausing to look over her shoulder and presses her lips together, silently telling you that this is going to be difficult enough without explaining that you two are just friends, even if they know about your presence in Brittany's life again, and you get that.

No-one else seems to believe that you two are having a baby together just as friends, and that won't be easy to explain to people who only knew you both as girlfriends.

Pushing that thought away, you grab your suitcase and head behind Brittany, but you don't get to knock on the door because it's swinging open, revealing a slightly older looking Whitney Pierce who gasps when she sees you, like she totally wasn't peering through the curtain a second ago. She looks pretty much the same as before – a hell of a lot like Jennifer Coolidge – and you can't help but smile because her energy was always so damn infectious when you were younger, and time hasn't changed that.

"Santana Lopez," the older woman says, not even bothering to greet her daughter as she steps towards you, hands grabbing your cheeks and looking all over your face. "You're still so beautiful," she sighs, and you can't help but blush.

Apparently time hasn't changed how Brittany's mom feels towards you, and it instantly makes you feel calm, like all the nerves you had before never even flared up. Still, you roll your eyes with a smile and Whitney laughs loudly before throwing her arms around you and pulling you into a tight hug, your face mashed against her boobs. You can barely breathe, and you do try to squirm but then you look at Brittany who's grinning so widely at you, like this is the best thing she's ever seen, that you completely forget to and then she's being yanked into the hug and her arm slips around your waist as she keeps you there.

But then panic sets in, the thought of being squashed tightly against each other whilst there's a baby in the mix, and your face drops as you stare into Brittany's eyes. She must see it though, her head shaking immediately like she had the same thought, and you just bite down on your tongue, focusing on pushing out of Whitney's grasp because you think she might hold you for way too long should she be given the choice.

This is going to be hard to keep a secret. You know you two are going to have to say it soon.

"I missed you two so much," Whitney squeaks, finally letting go but holding your bicep as she takes you in all over again, before moving to her daughter and scrunching her face up in a way that you've seen a million times on Brittany's face. They're so alike sometimes and you can't help but smile as you watch them. "You've stayed away for too long this time, Britt Britt," the older woman says, a feigned hardness in her voice but Brittany just pouts and you're glad for Whitney holding on to you or you'd jelly leg to the floor. You have a love/hate relationship with that freaking pout. "But your dad and sister are inside so come on," she finishes and lets go of you, ushering you both into the house with a wave of her hands.

You just share a soft, reassuring look with Brittany as you head on inside, linking your pinkie through hers as you step over the threshold.

The Pierce's still love you.

Whitney was the initial indicator of that, but when you went inside, Jaime ran up to you like she always used to, considerably taller and more grown than the last time you saw her in the back of her family's SUV the other side of ten years ago, and hugged you, and Brittany's dad wrapped you up too in a way that made you feel safe instantly. It was a feeling that you'd long forgotten, having never really been touchy with people after they up and moved to Michigan – you think it was a defence mechanism – but then Whitney sat you down, got you cookies and milk despite you being 26 and it not being Christmas, and you fill in the next few hours talking about the missed years.

You talk about where you've been, how Jaime's doing at school and how James has semi-retired, still staying on the board of some big tech company. It answers your earlier question about how they could have such a big house, and Brittany relays all the information she's learned about you over the past couple of months. You don't interrupt her, feeling your heart blossom with affection as she perfectly recalls every story you've ever told her, and you don't stop yourself from grinning widely at her when she tells her family that you're a big hotshot now with the infamous and irritating Rachel Berry as your number one client.

Apparently Jaime is like, obsessed with the troll and asks you thousands of questions, but you just tell her that if she ever comes to LA, you'll set up a meet and greet and Brittany presses her hand to the small of your back in a small thanks, accompanied by the softest smile that makes your stomach flutter. It sets your body alight too, mostly because her fingertips span across the small slither of skin showing between your shirt and jeans, but you just clear your throat and continue indulging Jaime in her Rachel Berry interest.

You don't understand it, but you suppose you're good at your job is you've got millions of teenage girls aspiring to be someone like Rachel. You do handle her reputation and whatnot.

But as comfortable as it's been, after dinner, Brittany leads you back to the sofa and silently asks you if you're ready to discuss the real reason for you visiting, as you've left out that vital piece of information during your conversation earlier. You're not, but you don't think you could ever prepare for this, and you feel bad as you should've probably said when you first got here, not wanting to lead the Pierce's into a false sense of security if they don't take your announcement too well, but it's too far gone to think about that now.

Still, you brace yourself and nod your head, and Brittany gives you a small smile, not hesitating as she grabs your hand and cranes her neck, looking back into the kitchen where her parents are.

"Mom? Dad?" She calls, and seconds later, said people pop their head around the doorway, smiles wide. "Can you guys sit down for a second?"

Jaime is already on the floor by the sofa, leaning against the coffee table and texting away on her phone, but she stops to glance back as Whitney and James come into the front room and take a seat on the sofa opposite. Then there's three pairs of striking blue eyes staring right at you, and you don't know why it seems serious – because they don't know how serious it is yet – but Jaime grabs the remote and lowers the volume, spinning around and crossing her legs on the floor to pay you and Brittany full attention.

That really doesn't help, as the pressure is now coming back, the one you had when you told your friends, but this is like, a thousand times worse. You've shown up in Florida, after not being in Brittany's life for a good decade now, and you're not only back, but you're back with an addition and that's something that may not be taken lightly, regardless of how much they obviously still like you. Being here is one thing but telling them you're friends and having a baby together is a whole other ball game.

One you're really not ready to play.

"What's wrong, honey?" James asks, his eyes flitting to you and heat crawls up your spine, tickling at the back of your neck but this is Brittany's one to take. This is her family, and she stayed silent when you were telling Rachel, Kurt, and Blaine as they're your friends, and you're going to pay her the same respect now.

"Nothing's wrong, dad," Brittany laughs, but it's nervous and you think her family notices as they all share a look. But she just shifts, her palms clammy against yours and you swap hands, winding your arm around her back and scooting as close as you can so she's basically leaning on you, but you're just being supportive. Literally supportive, as she puts half her weight on you and she exhales slowly through pursed lips, turning her head and momentarily flicking her gaze to you which you nod at slowly, encouraging her. "We've just got something to tell you," she continues, still holding your eye.

But the announcement doesn't get to follow before Jaime is shrieking on the floor, hands shooting out to grab at the coffee table and the carpet on the other side, and her mouth is as wide as her eyes as she speaks. "You're back together!?" She screeches, interrupting the moment and you shoot her a glare, glad when she doesn't take it badly and grins unapologetically, looking like that's more what she wants to hear than what you're going to tell her.

"No, no," Brittany corrects, again laughing through the words and you squeeze her hips gently because you've got her. If this goes south quick, then you're going to be her shoulder to cry on. "It's to do with Santana obviously but we're just friends," she starts and throws you another look that you dip your head at, encouraging her and ignoring the label she put on you, yet again. "It's something else..."

Whitney stands immediately, leaving her husband behind as she comes over and takes a seat beside you and you take a deep breath because you know instantly that it's going to be fine if she's already comforting both of you before even hearing the news. It completely contradicts the feeling inside your chest, like your ribs are restricted and you can't breathe properly, and you can't deny you're super fucking nervous and now even more nervous as Brittany's mom is close enough to literally feel you sweating, but you are going to face this with Brittany.

And as she begins talking once again, you don't stop holding your breath.

You throw yourself down on to Brittany's bed, not remembering the walk up here after telling the Pierce's that her daughter was pregnant with your baby.

It was all kind of a blur, and you try to remember the look on Whitney's face and how freaking happy Jaime was, and how James had the initial scowl that turned swiftly when he heard that you were the other parent, but you can't. All you can remember is the impossibly tight hug you were pulled into as Brittany cried with happiness and how you couldn't stop grinning at each other as it was considerably easier than you thought, and it just made everything feel lighter.

But now you're in Brittany's bedroom, propping yourself up on your elbows as the blonde shuts the door and leans against it, and somewhere in the back of your mind, you think about how strange it is to be back in her room. It's not the one you climbed up the trellis to get into when you were teenagers, as it's a totally different house and even a different state, but the decorations are all the same and you wonder why Brittany has an entire room to herself filled with stuff that obviously isn't important enough to keep in her Brentwood apartment, but when you see her face, your full attention is put on that.

She looks like she's relieved, but still really freaking scared as she's probably still processing the reaction downstairs – regardless of how great it was – and you shift to the end of the bed, cocking your head to the side and grasping the edge of it as you look at her, still by the door. "How you doing?"

Brittany lets out a long exhale at your question, her chest shaking slightly but her shoulders drop, and you can tell she's trying to relax. "They took that so well," she says and yeah, that's an understatement. The only person who showed slight disapproval was her dad, but that's natural as Brittany's his baby girl and like you said, it quickly disappeared when he realised it was you she was having the baby with and not some stranger. "I'm just in shock still."

"Yeah," you laugh out, sucking your lips into your mouth and squinting at her because you don't want to celebrate if she isn't there yet. "Was it better than you expected?"

She nods and comes to sit beside you, flopping back on the bed with her hands on her stomach and legs dangling off the edge beside yours. You don't follow, just twist, and look over your shoulder at her as she blows her cheeks out and rolls her head from side to side. "So much better," she confirms, and you crack a smile. "I knew they'd be okay with the you part of it," she lifts a hand and waves it in the air. "But I expected them to be a little mad as it wasn't exactly planned."

"Mad?"

"It's irresponsible to get pregnant at our age accidentally," she explains and bites her lip, a frown appearing across your face which she pinches her lips in response at. "It's not like I can tell them we used a condom as apparently, that didn't matter anyway."

You can't help but laugh because yeah, contraception failed you and you only hate that because you kind of wished you didn't have to use a condom with her if it ended up like this regardless. Sex is so much better without, you can't deny it, but you were trying to be adult when you could've just done what you wanted, and that is still kind of grating on you. That was the first time you two had actually used protection ever, after spending your teenage years with Brittany on the pill, and as it turns out it was kind of pointless.

But you really can't think about that. You're now moving to lay down beside her, in her bed, in a room that feels a lot like her teenage one and this is a dangerous area. This could easily lead to more, especially as you're thinking about sex and condoms, and how you wouldn't need to use one if you had sex again as she's already pregnant, and you really need to shut that voice up inside your head. This weekend is about telling Brittany's parents, which you've done, and that's a milestone in your friendship so you've got to keep your cool.

That's really hard to do though, especially when Brittany peers down your body and plucks a hand off your stomach, holding it between your bodies. Heat flares across your palm, and you suck in the gasp that bubbles up your throat at the simple touch as you're in the middle of a conversation and instead of highlighting how your body just reacts to her holding your freaking hand, you should probably focus on making sure she's good.

"I'm just glad you're okay," you sigh, letting your head fall to the side, cheek pressing against the comforter to look at her. She mirrors it, and the second gasp creeps up your throat when you get to count the freckles on her cheeks, but it's gone when you notice the smirk on her face when you attempt to wiggle back. She doesn't let you though, just grips your hand harder and keeps your rooted in your space like she doesn't want you to move away.

You don't either, but you should.

"We're okay," she replies after a long moment, like she's correcting you and for a second, you're confused, thinking she just means you and her but then her free hand pats her stomach, and you know what she really means. "We all are."

You inhale deeply, sucking in your lips when they try to smile and stare into blue eyes for a comfortable minute, not speaking anymore, and not moving. You are all okay; you, Brittany, and the baby, and that makes this easier once again. Telling your friends was one thing, but telling her parents was another and you know you've still got to climb a mountain by telling your own, but so far it's been good. You're getting supported by all the people that are important to you, Brittany's parents have said they'll come and visit whenever you need and look after the baby if you two need a break, and everything is going well.

But you can't scratch that itch that makes you feel like something is missing. You can't quite place it, and you try to as you search blue eyes, not feeling awkward for the eye contact even though you usually get weird about it, but it doesn't work. Probably a good thing though, as you really shouldn't hover over unspoken questions and unsure feelings, as you're in a familiar situation, being in an unfamiliar house that feels too familiar because of who owns it and who's in it.

Somehow, it still feels like home to you, and you think the comfort is making your thoughts fall into a spiral and question the slight twinge in your stomach, like you got what you wanted with a positive response from Brittany's parents, but like that it isn't enough as you confirmed that it really was just a friends thing between you two, regardless of the pregnancy.

So you push it away, sitting up and untangling your hand from hers, climbing to your feet as you spin around to look down at her and ignoring the cold sting on your palm. "We should go to bed," you state, and Brittany cocks her head adorably, propping herself up on her elbows. "Where am I sleeping?"

Blue eyes look you up and down, silently questioning why you moved away as that's the second time you've done it – the first time being when you came home from the bar that night – but she knows you haven't been anywhere or hooked up with someone else, so it must be for another reason. A reason you don't want her to highlight, but when she starts smiling, you think she knows it anyway. You're way too comfortable and it's going to take supreme effort into touching her and being normal in a place like this without it going too far.

"In bed?" She finally answers, sounding like a question more than an answer but you know it's because you just got up and moved away. Still, your eyes flit to the bed as she pats it, needing to know for definite if she means this one or if there's like another room in the house you can sleep in, but Brittany just giggles and climbs to her feet, stepping toward you and reaching out for your hand, and you don't know what to say.

Sure, you've never actually been in this house, and you two have slept in a bed together before – you even fell asleep on the sofa like two weeks ago – but you still went back to your place after. You still have that defined line and it feels way too comfortable and dangerous to do that here. It is late though, and you think if there was a spare room, and you weren't allowed to sleep here, that it would've been mentioned by now and okay, there's a sofa downstairs you could have for the night, but you hate the back ache you get from not sleeping in bed and–

You're running out of excuses. You really want to sleep next to her, but you also don't trust yourself around her.

"Is that okay?" She asks, dipping her head and biting her lip and you force yourself to nod as she's obviously not freaking out about it like you are. "Cool," she grins and scrunches her face up at you before dropping your hands and twirling around, grabbing her suitcase, and hauling it onto the bed. You just watch, resisting the urge to help her without her asking as you don't want to be too protective, and she flashes a small smile at you when you don't start getting ready for bed like you just suggested. "The bathroom is down the hall on the left, if you need it," she follows up softly, bringing your temperature back down as she's being chill and casual and you are going to be, too.

And that's the mindset you choose to use as you begin unpacking your case and shifting away the feeling of how hard it's going to be to sleep next to her in her parents' house.

It feels far too much like the past.

You knew you were right.

You knew you were going to struggle, and you should've gone with your gut and taken up the damn sofa, because as you climb into bed, Brittany comes in shortly after wearing as little as she used to when you shared a bed, and you wish you'd brought like, long johns or something to ensure maximum protection against feeling her skin against yours. But you didn't, and she doesn't seem to care as she slips into the right side of the bed, flicking off the light and tucking herself beneath the sheets as silence sets in.

It's way too comfortable, but you know you're good if you can just lay on your back and sleep like you're in a coffin, but you also become very aware that it was naïve of you to even consider that was going to happen as Brittany reaches over and begins tracing up and down your arm with the tips of her fingers. The sensation shoots through you, sparking every nerve in your body alive but you bite down on your tongue, scared that a noise will come up your throat involuntarily and reveal that you're hyper aware of how she makes you feel.

And how little she's wearing.

Especially when she asks the next question. "Do you wanna be the big spoon?"

It shocks you, mostly because you weren't prepared to sleep in a bed, let alone freaking cuddle her which again, was super freaking naïve as you two always used to do that and have been touchy since reconciling, but it's just reminded you of how she can touch you in other ways and that's already a challenge. That's already something you're desperately trying to ignore, and seeing what's over the line you've drawn is seriously tempting, as she's obviously assuming you're comfy enough with her to take a step forward and fall asleep in each other's arms and just–

You don't know how you're going to do this.

But you also don't know how to say no when it's definitely not a no.

So, you just go with being oblivious. "The big spoon?"

Brittany quirks a brow at you, amusement in her eyes like she knows you're trying to play it off and think of a reason to say no, but then you look down at your bodies and think that you're probably going to do it anyway, so you need to know how to do it. On one hand, you always used to be the big spoon, as it usually lead to sliding down her underwear and sliding into her from behind and you liked her curved into your body, but you don't think that's a wise idea this time. You two shouldn't have sex – not that you think it's on the cards or anything – but you two are only human, and so the little spoon seems like the safest choice.

Then, you can't get a raging hard on when she wiggles her hips back up into you, and if you manage to get through the night unscathed, you can conceal your morning glory as it's pretty much a definite at this point.

So you just shake your head, turning around to answer her question with action instead, and she giggles lightly – almost like she knows why you're doing it – and scoots up behind you, long arms winding around you and pulling you tight against her. Your body fits against hers just like it always used to, and you ignore the flare of heat as your skin touches when both your tank tops ride up, instead focusing on the pictures lined up on the wall, some of which you recognise and some of which you don't.

There's a whole life up there, one she lived without you and all your energy goes into focusing on that as Brittany snuggles down behind you and buries her face into your hair.

Fifteen minutes later, and you're still staring at the pictures and not even close to falling asleep.

You've been looking at them for so long that you know if you ask her about them tomorrow, you'll be able to put a face to a name purely based off the description, but it's come with some unwanted thoughts. She lived a whole life, and probably has one planned, and you get so caught up in wondering how much you missed out on that you don't notice for that amount of time that Brittany's not sleepy breathing, which means she's not asleep either.

The only reason you find out is because you get irritable, being in the same position for this long and shift, trying to be careful not to wake her but she's already awake.

"Can't sleep either?" Comes from behind you, making you jolt but you know you've been caught so you turn over. Brittany doesn't move back like you expected and doesn't take back her arms and instead adjusting them around your waist to keep a close grip on you which makes you swallow thickly.

"Yeah," you admit quietly, moving your own hands up to tuck beneath your chin, staring deeply into her eyes. She's way too close now, but unlike earlier, you don't feel like you have to move away and fuck it. You were already cuddling, and you've managed to control yourself for fifteen minutes so you're probably good. "Why can't you sleep?"

Brittany shrugs, as much as she can and strokes a foot up your calf, beneath the sheets. "Just been a big day, I guess."

You nod because you understand that more than anything. It must be even worse for her as it was her parents and not yours, and it could've gone south real quick. Luckily, it didn't, and selfishly you're nervous for telling your own parents next weekend as they're a total opposite of the Pierce's. They're traditional, and you know your dad harbours strong feelings towards two people who aren't married having a baby together, but that's something to worry about later on and right now, you're more focused on making sure Brittany's okay.

It has been a big day, and she always used to thrive off the buzz of excitement after a Cheerios performance, and you suppose it's kind of like that now and there was always one sure fire way that you could get her to calm down and get her into a light state of mind so fatigue can take over.

So you begin grinning at her, watching her eyes flash with confusion briefly before she starts smiling too and you bite your lip before you whisper something that makes her entire face lighten up. "You wanna watch Nemo?"

Brittany just beams a grin at you and you roll your eyes, laughing as she reaches for the remote.

Halfway through the film, and it hasn't gone as planned as you're both far more awake than close to sleep, giggling at the animated fish on screen.

You've seen this movie a thousand times, so you talk most of the way through it, asking questions about the pictures up on the wall and seeing if you were right earlier as you put the name to a face. Brittany asks you about the same years that are photographed on her wall, but in your life, like when you graduated college and what it was like being 21 and living in California. She moved around, so she finds it interesting to see what life could've been like if her dad hadn't moved, but when it gets a little tense as you both realise how much you've missed of each other, Brittany tells you she wants some snacks and stops the tension from forming.

She heads downstairs, bringing back up Cheetos and a few cans of soda and you open the packet, putting it between you as you prop yourself against the headboard into a more comfortable position. You urge her on to take the first one, fluttering your eyelashes when she tries to do the same to you and that only ends up with both of you moving at the same time and bumping hands, and you can't deny the spark that shoots up your arm at the touch.

Blue eyes flash to you, like she felt the same thing and the breath you try to take lodges into your throat, your heart picking up its tempo, but you know it's dangerous and you're all about skipping over these moments in fear that it'll screw things up. You thought you had last week when you told her about that girl at the bar, and even the memory of a strangers lips on your body makes you reel back quicker than intended, and mind send words to your mouth before you even think about it.

"So," you clear your throat and train your eyes on the screen as Brittany pulls out a Cheeto and you take the opportunity to take one yourself, without touching her this time. "What's the worst thing about pregnancy so far?"

It's safe. It's normal. It's probably one of the better questions to ask so you can sidestep out the moment you two just had.

Brittany doesn't seem to notice, or press you if she does and crunches loudly, scrunching her face up and look to the ceiling as she thinks of an answer. You stare at her for a second, watching in awe as you still don't understand how someone eating Cheetos can look so damn beautiful whilst doing it, but then she's tilting her head back down and meeting your eye. "At first it was the big boobs," she admits with a lift of her shoulder, and you almost choke on a crumb that shoots to the back of your throat when you inhale sharply. That really isn't a bad thing in your eyes, but you can see how it could be inconvenient to her.

"I had to buy like, five new bras in a bigger size and you know how expensive those are," she explains, and you can only nod in understanding, pretending like you weren't entirely focused on that in the earlier weeks of her pregnancy and how all of her underwear used to be lacy and minimalistic and if the new pairs are the same. "But now…" She pauses and you do too as her eyes return down to you, and you see something flash behind them. "Now I think it's the hormones."

That's not exactly what you were expecting, as Brittany seemed to handle going from clinically depressed to manically crazy in the first two months relatively well, but you guess maybe it was harder than it seemed. Still, it doesn't seem like a dangerous answer and so you see no harm in pressing it.

Well, at first it doesn't seem dangerous.

"The hormones?"

"Yeah," Brittany nods, licking her fingers clean after two more Cheetos and pushing the bag away, showing she's done with them. She brushes her palms against each other, orange dust falling down on her, but she brushes that off her to over the other side of the bed and rests her now clean hands, palm down, on her stomach, drumming her fingertips. "I just really wasn't expecting to be so…" She takes in a deep breath to punctuate her sentence and glances back at you through dark eyes. "Horny."

Again, you choke on another crumb in your throat, unable to stop it from going down the wrong hole way too far to recover smoothly, so you bang on your chest, trying to suck in any available oxygen because fuck. You weren't expecting that either. Brittany doesn't seem to feel the same effect, just lets out a bark of laughter that's so loud you suddenly worry she's going to wake up her family down the halls, but then she's shrugging it off, holding your eye and allowing you to see the different shade of blue now in hers.

How the fuck are you not supposed to notice it when she's looking right at you?

Still though, this is probably just another one of those moments, and you manage to clear your throat, grabbing a soda and taking a long slurp, feeling heat crawl over your skin and your lungs working a little harder than before and not because you almost just choked to death, but it's fine, it's cool. You can totally resist any potential growing urges that may come as your super attractive ex-girlfriend and mother of your baby tells you she's got the mega horn on.

That's totally something you can handle.

"I've talked to a few friends who have had kids and they said it was the worst part but actually going through it…" Brittany inhales deeply, shaking her head and you can feel that she's thinking about being turned on, and it leads you to wonder how many times she's been extremely horny and alone and how she could've called you to help–Nope. You are not going to go there. "I've literally never gone this long without sex before and apparently no matter how many toys I have, that thirst just isn't getting quenched."

And well, you could've done without that bit of information as you're now picturing her on a bed surrounded by things you could use on her. You're also thinking how you totally get that because sure, you got a blowjob off that girl in the bar last week, but it was less than satisfying and you're here, body filled with pent up sexual frustration as your thirst hasn't been quenched properly either. Nothing and no-one works you like Brittany does, but you know that's totally not appropriate to say and way more dangerous than you need to be, so you just go with the safe option and agree.

(Or what you think is the safe option.)

"I know how you feel."

Blue eyes flash to you, now clouded with confusion and you look to her, brows furrowed because now you're confused. "I thought you hooked up with someone?" Brittany asks, her voice curious but cautious and you shift uncomfortably.

This is not a good situation to be in whilst discussing this, especially as you were being so friendly a minute ago and you don't want to pop that bubble. You want to linger in this blissful ignorance, feeling like teenagers again and watching kids films and laugh your way through it as you talk about the years you missed spending with each other and not find a reason to leave the room as you're pretty sure there isn't a spare bedroom to sleep in.

"We didn't have sex," you admit, trying to seem casual by throwing in a shrug and return your focus to the screen, and super freaking happy that you didn't say it wasn't you as an explanation instead, as that was on the tip of your tongue, too.

"You didn't?"

That makes you pull your gaze back to her, seeing her brows up by her hairline like she's shocked. You thought you already had told her in one way or another, and you thought that's why you spent the week barely seeing each other but talking over the phone, but now you're thinking different. Now you're thinking that she thought you did have sex, not just mess around and that's why she's been avoiding you, and you really don't want to give explicit details as to what went down, but it seems you don't have to because that's enough for her to look guilty, confirming and revealing your suspicions.

She thought you had sex with someone else when you didn't and she didn't like it.

"Nope," you pop the 'op' and adjust your position, knuckles digging into the mattress as you pull your back further up against the headboard from where you apparently slipped down.

"Then what did you do?"

You really don't want to answer that, and you show her it with a single look. "Brittany–"

"Don't full name me," she cuts in, a playful twinkle in her eye and you're happy she's not being serious about this as you were about to start getting hot and panicky. "We can talk about hooking up with other people, you know," she adds on with a raised eyebrow. "We are adults."

You laugh nervously as yeah, you're adults, but you're also exes and that's something that you can't forget. "I know, but still…" You stop to run your tongue along the front of your teeth, sucking your lips into your mouth straight afterwards as you try to read her. She doesn't seem like she's being weird, or even jealous like she was coming across a week ago when you told her, but you just don't get why as she's doing the total opposite now. Like she's almost happier with the fact you didn't have sex with some random girl and you're not sure how to react to that. It feels like it could be dangerous. "It's not like you've hooked up with anyone so it's weird to talk about it."

"How do you know I haven't?"

Your blood runs cold at the question, and seeing as you hadn't considered that, you know you're visibly stiffening as you force your neck to turn to look at her. If she has, you would've thought she would've told you and now you're doubting everything, seeing why she's reacting from a different perspective. Maybe her date with the creepy sales guy wasn't that bad and she lied to you and shit. Now you definitely don't know how to react.

But you do. "Have you?"

Brittany's lips twitch and she shakes her head slowly. "No," she admits quietly, and you wince at how loudly you sigh out in relief. Probably not the best reaction to have but you are relieved. You just don't know why. "But it's different with me because I'm pregnant."

You know that, but you also know that she said she was going to date, and you hope that the douchebag Jean Baptiste hasn't ruined the idea of it with his Freudian complex. "But you should be out there seeing what the world of dating has got for you before little one comes along," you try, hoping it comes across as encouraging but you're not sure. "It'll be totally different when he or she is here."

"I know," Brittany bobs her head and turns to face the television once again, properly breaking the eye contact for the first time in like five minutes. You do the same, resisting the urge to see if she's disappointed with your words as you don't need to know that, and it'll make you overthink. "But I also feel like it's something someone should know if we're going to end up having sex and I'm not sure I'm ready for that or even try finding someone who would be okay with it."

You frown and give up trying not to look at her because you can't deny you want to, and the movie has been long forgotten about anyway. It might as well not be playing but the low hum of the character's voices it helping this feel lighter than if it were deadly silent. Then you'd be able to hear how hard you're breathing, and you'd be trying to listen to see if Brittany's doing the same thing and trying to steer your words or actions towards switching this topic to something better.

"I know I'm not the one that's pregnant so it's different," you say, and Brittany finally takes her eye off the screen to look at you again. "But I don't think I was ready and that's why I had to shower when I got home after going out with Kurt," you lift a shoulder and pinch your lips together, ignoring the memory of how dirty your skin felt that night. "But we're both humans and you can't hold back on your urges as they're natural and so if you want to sleep with someone, then you should and anyone would be an idiot not to want to with you."

A breath hitches in Brittany's throat at your words, and you let her eyes dart over your face for a whole minute before you go back over your words and hear them again. Except this time, you realise how much it sounds like you're offering you to be that person and that's so not what you meant, even if you really, really wouldn't mind being but you don't know if she wants that. You don't think it'd be a good idea, and in hindsight, you would've realised that this entire conversation was heading a certain way because you've seen the glint in her eye a thousand times before.

You saw it the first night she walked back into your life. You saw it the second night when you ran into her at the award show. You saw it the third time when you were watching 27 Dresses and again, you've put yourself in a situation where she's looking at you like she's seriously considering kissing you and shit, if she does…

You'll be powerless to resist.

Before you can even think about a way to get out of this atmosphere, this intense stare off that you've put yourself in again, Brittany's grabbing the forgotten bag of Cheetos and shoving them off the side of the bed, grabbing at your hip and yanking you down the bed with a strength you always forget she has. It takes your breath away, and she leans over you with confidence, her hand still grasping and thumb stroking over your hipbone in a way you know means something.

You know where this is going.

"Britt–"

"I don't wanna hold back on my urges," Brittany whispers, the words coating your mouth as she dips her head, but you still feel like you need to make sure this is a good idea, even if she's the one that just tugged you down the bed and is half laying over your body. "And you shouldn't either," she adds on, smiling and you only know it because the air in front of your lips changes and your entire body flares up as her hand drifts up your body and then it's on your cheek, making sure you don't break eye contact.

Not like you could. You're fucking putty in her hands and there's already heat scorching beneath your skin as your hands automatically glide up her back and pull her on top of you, her legs going either side of yours so she's straddling you. Blue eyes shine and you gulp loudly when she moves her hand from your face to brace herself above your head, palms digging into the pillow and she drops back down again, her lips ghosting over yours, but you need to just check this is wise.

Or at least not super freaking dumb.

"Are you sure?"

Brittany pulls back, only the slightest, just to look into your eyes again and doesn't skip a beat before she's nodding gently, her hair falling around you like a golden waterfall. "So fucking sure," she whispers.

And you don't try to fight it anymore as she closes the gap and pushes her lips against yours, moaning loudly into your mouth.

There are a lot of things you know you shouldn't do but do them anyway.

Like after a run, sometimes you get an iced coffee which just replaces the calories you've burnt, but it makes you feel good. Like how sometimes you snap at the interns when Rachel annoys you that little bit more, but it makes you feel good, too. Like how you're here, right now, pressed between Brittany's thighs, after you stripped each other naked and there's literally no space between your bodies even though you're not actually having sex yet, and you probably shouldn't be doing it as there's like a million reasons why it might complicate things, but it's making you feel really fucking good.

Because sometimes it feels so fucking good to be bad.

So you sink into it instantly, allowing your body to move the way it wants to, and you stroke a hand up the side of her thigh, fingers curling in the crease where it meets her ass as your tongue slides up the muscle in her neck. Her fingernails dig into the skin of your biceps as she clutches on to you, her hips rutting up with desperation because you know she wants you inside of her like, stat, but you love this part of having sex with Brittany.

You love the way she whimpers when you bite down on her earlobe. You love the way you can hitch her leg up and press forward, bending it into an unnatural position but it's comfortable to her and she snaps her eyes open as your hand drifts between and two of your fingers slide into her. You love the way her swollen lips pop open, her eyes shine an impossible blue and her back arches, breasts pushing up into yours as you curl them in a spot that you first discovered when you were teenagers.

You can't deny that you just fucking love the way she reacts to you, like she's never been touched by anyone like this before and it's probably unhealthy, but you really don't give a damn right now.

"Santana," Brittany says breathlessly, tilting her neck backwards as your thumb moves up to circle her clit, and you brace yourself on your free hand, nudging her lips with your nose until she glances back down again, and you can kiss her. You stroke your tongue inside her mouth, working her up in the way that you used to know so well – and still kind of do – and she whimpers, biting back into the kiss as you feel her tighten around you.

She was already so wet when you touched her, and you know that she said it was the hormones turning her on, but you know for sure you do the same things to her that she does to you. You wouldn't be in this position if that wasn't the case and that just spurs you on, breaking the kiss and tipping your forehead against hers as you move your fingers inside of her, enjoying the way the back of your knuckles is being coated with her juices.

But she wants more, making it evident when she surges forward, capturing your lips and biting down on your bottom lip instantly, hands scrambling to your shoulders to push but you're not letting up. You're going to make her come before you slide inside of her and so you work faster and harder, until the muscles in your forearm are burning and there's a thin layer of sweat coating your forehead. It only takes a few more strokes before her legs stiffen, back arches once again and her orgasm punches through her, making her choke on the breath she tries to take as she breaks the kiss.

"Fuck," leaves your mouth, watching Brittany's eyelashes flutter as ecstasy take over and you remove your fingers slowly, stroking her soaked entrance just the once and causing her to shudder as she rolls her hips. You can't help but grin, the need to get off hitting you hard in the gut but you think you could touch her all day without being touched yourself and be okay with it. She just looks so fucking hot during sex, and you're so distracted by that thought that you don't realise she's regaining her strength until it's too late.

She moves her hands, them shooting to your scalp, fingers winding through your hair, and she pushes up with her body, forcing you to move on to your back with her legs thrown either side of you, but she stays close. Her chest stays mashed against yours, her hands moving away from your head to grab at your hands as you try to grip her hips, and she pins them above your head, ducking her head instantly to bite at the skin of your throat.

Pleasure shoots through you, quick like lightning, and you groan, wanting to be pissed that she caught you in a weak moment and is now taking control, but you're so fucking cool with it. The best sex you two have is when she's riding you into oblivion, getting herself off but moving her hips in a way that puts you in a trance and you can't help but think about the last few times where it's happened exactly like that and you know it's about to be the same.

But when she kisses you fiercely, flicking her tongue against the roof of your mouth, you start thinking about how it went down before and how at this stage, she's been reaching into her bag for a condom, but you don't think you're going to need it this time. Neither of you have slept with anyone else, only you who has messed around, and you fucking yearn to be inside her without any barriers but you're not sure if that's going to happen now.

It seems it shows somehow, possibly because you don't try and fight back when she's pinning you down and ravishing your throat – you usually do – and she pulls back, her eyes dark and hooded and fucking hell, you could literally come right now just looking at her. But you can't, and so you do exactly as she did, taking full advantage of her checking in on you with a single look and grasp the back of her neck, and her hip, and flip her back over, giggling when she yelps quietly into your ear, arms thrown around your back.

The sound swiftly disappears when you press your lips back together, propping yourself up on one elbow and reaching down with the other hand, grabbing at your cock, and stroking languidly. You squeeze the base, knowing you're really fucking turned on and stamina with Brittany has always been a challenge, and only break the kiss to look into her eyes, knowing that you need to get her consent of doing this without protection even though it's definitely not needed.

Brittany doesn't hesitate though, just plays with the hairs at the back of your neck, switching the hot and heavy atmosphere to something softer and nods her head, biting her lip and breathing heavily, but you freeze. You don't know why. Or rather, you do know, because the last few times you slept together, you had a base of a friendship, but it was just easy and didn't mean anything, but now it feels like it does. Now there's a life growing inside of her, formed from a connection very much like this and you can't help but see some significance in that.

But before you can think of a reason not to do this – it would have to be a freaking miracle to stop you – she drops one hand away from your neck, reaching between your bodies and batting your hand away from your length, taking over the ministrations you were doing to yourself. Your hips jerk, a breathy gasp escaping your throat and you drop your forehead to her shoulder as she guides you between her legs, the head of your dick pressing against slick heat, and you know she's answering the question you kept inside your head.

"Please," she whispers when you don't immediately sink into her, and you're brought back to reality with the single word, feeling the effect of it flow over your body in a prickly heat as you gaze deeply into blue eyes, seeing how much she needs you.

And you can't help but give in. Nothing inside of you wants to resist and you dip your head, kissing her softly as you urge your hips forward, pushing past tight muscles and groaning into her mouth. The kiss stutters, her breath coming out strangled and breathy and your eyes roll into the back of your skull at the warmth that encompasses you. It's so fucking hot and wet and feels better than anyone else you've ever been inside, and your arms shake as you bury yourself deeply, drawing out sliding into her bare for the first time in years.

It feels like you never left.

"G-God," Brittany stammers out, pushing the back of her head hard into the pillow and biting down on her lip, and when you're fully sheathed, you grab at her hands, pulling them above her head much like she did to you before, rolling your hips expertly and slowly, humming at the sparks that shoot around inside the low of your spine. "San, San, San," she chants as you begin picking up speed, feeling her legs stroke up the back of yours in a way that's way too soft for the speed you're currently gaining, but you just silence her with a kiss, knowing she's always come harder when it's been intense and passionate.

And this is so much more intense and passionate than you expected. This connection is full of affection and care, even when obscene smacking sounds begin echoing around the room, drowned out by small squeaks and whimpers coming from Brittany as you slam into her, but you're way too focused on the silky heat coating you and building heat higher and higher in your body. She just feels so fucking good, and you suck on her bottom lip until the movement becomes too rigorous and you have to break away, tilting your forehead against hers again.

She pulls her hands away from beneath yours, beginning to stroke up your back, palms curving down over your ribs and keeping you close, and you pause for a brief second to adjust your knees against the mattress, putting most of your weight on your hands as they're still above her head. She doesn't stop whimpering though, just tries to keep her eyes open as you pound harder and faster which just makes them fall shut again and she looks so damn beautiful that for a second, you almost forget what you're doing.

But Brittany's right there, the syllables of your name spilling from her lips so perfectly and you just want her to feel more and more. You're overwhelmed with the sensation to not only give her many, many orgasms, but for her to know that this isn't just sex to you.

Because you know it isn't.

It should scare you, but in this moment, you can't deny that you care way more about her than you do yourself and that's something that doesn't cause fear. Even before fucking her, you just wanted her to feel like she was the only girl in the world, and that's not a very friendly way of looking at this, but you can't look at it any other way. This is freaking Brittany you're talking about, and it's probably because you're not using protection whilst having sex, like you have the last three times, and the fact you're in her parents' house like you used to be – even if it is in a different state – and it's making you feel like you're a teenager again, still madly in love with the blonde squirming beneath you.

You're not, but you know it just feels more than casual sex and that should scare you, but for some reason it doesn't.

So you just put that into action, kissing her as her body begins vibrating beneath you and you know she's not far from another orgasm. The pressure in your spine is almost too much so you know this isn't going to go on for hours, probably only a few more minutes, but they're going to be the best minutes of either of your lives. You didn't expect it to happen for a fourth time, and you don't know if there'll be a fifth, but if there isn't, you're going to need this one to be remembered.

You need it to stand out, and so you push into her, keeping yourself fully sheathed as you sit back on your ankles and drop your hands to her hips, tugging her up onto the front of your thighs so you don't slip out and she squeaks at the change of position. Her head lands just below the pillow, but you take a quick second to pull it down too so she's comfortable as you glance down at her, and she smiles – fucking smiles – in quiet gratitude.

It's more than freaking distracting, because no friend looks at their friend like that whilst getting down and supposedly dirty, even if friends probably shouldn't do this, but you push past it, knowing you can't read too much into anything and instead, glance between your bodies.

The mere sight of seeing your cock buried deep inside you makes you twitch and groan loudly, and Brittany moans as her hands scramble at yours, trying to pull you down but you did this for a reason. You've been with enough women to know where that spot is, and even without that, you know Brittany's body like there's a map engrained in your mind, so you know this is going to drive her crazy. You avoid her hands reaching for yours, and instead smooth your palms down her stomach, drifting out to the soft skin of her thighs and begin rolling your hips forward, your entire body moving like a wave as you begin sliding in and out of her again.

"Oh, shit," Brittany hisses, the words coming out sharp and fast and you smirk down at her, flicking your head so your hair goes over to one shoulder as you move one hand between her thighs, thumb circling her clit whilst your fingertips stroke over the skin below her navel. Her eyes bug open, locked into yours and you hold the contact as you repeat the motions over and over again, biting down on your bottom lip when her leg begins twitching.

And you know it's coming. You can feel her tightening around you, but it just spurs you on to fuck her deeper, fuck her slower, until the hands that were just scrambling for you move up to blonde hair and tug at the roots, like she doesn't know what to do with herself.

You do though, from having sex hundreds of times when you were teenagers and three times as adults, and you begin panting hard as the pressure creeps up your spine. It's almost beginning to become too much to contain, and so you move your thumb faster and faster until Brittany's clenching around you, her entire body going rigid as another orgasm punches through her, so much more powerful than the first one as she chokes, hands snapping down to grab at the hand you have between her legs to stop your movement on her clit, but you don't.

Not even when her eyes widen even further, and you swear you see them roll into the back of her head.

"Ohmygod, S'nta'a," Brittany gasps, her entire body tensing around you, and you roll your hips once, twice, three more times as another orgasm hits her hard and fast, thanks to your thumb still circling quickly, and that's all you need to reach your own climax.

You go to pull out, to release yourself somewhere other than inside her but it seems you aren't alone in your thoughts as the fact you're inside her without protection is more than good enough for you, but the hand around your wrist tugs down, your body falling on top of hers as the violent waves of pleasure begin crashing down on you. You know what it means instantly, and if you weren't way too far into letting go, literally a second away from coming, you'd ask if it's okay, but you think it is as she wraps her arms around you and locks you into a tight embrace.

But you still kiss her. You manage to get out of her grip to tilt your head up and suck on her bottom lip and then you're losing the tempo you'd set, spilling into her, and feeling the tight string ping inside of you as you jerk and release. Groans echo the room, your bodies slowing down from their rapid rocking motion, and you'll be concerned at how loud that probably was as neither of you shut up during later on, but right now all you can think about is coming inside her and how much she wants it that way.

The thinking only intensifies when the sparks begin dulling down inside your body, and you collapse heavily on top of Brittany, your limbs shaking and breathing hard and heavy as juices begin trickling out of her as you slide out. You two have never had sex like that – it was fucking mind blowing – and you can't help but laugh quietly as you roll off her, groaning and wincing at the lack of heat now you're no longer pressed against her, but she quickly makes up for that by joining in with the laughter and curling up beside you, legs twitching further down the bed.

Her arm winds over your stomach, tucking beneath your hip and she tucks her head against your shoulder, and then there's a few beats of silence – bar the movie still playing in the background – as you both try to catch your breath from that experience. It was like no other and you have to make sure it's not a dream, doing so by wiggling your head back until you can tilt it down, and she gazes up at you, looking beautifully exhausted with red cheeks and hair sticking to her forehead.

You know you look exactly the same.

"I gotta say," Brittany's the first to speak, very breathless, reaching up to stroke away the hair on your face and you do the same for her, letting your hand drag down her cheek until you can run your thumbpad over her bottom lip, remembering how soft it is. She's distracted by the motion for a second, not finishing her sentence until you smirk and quirk a brow, silently reminding her that she was speaking, and she blinks rapidly, snapping out of it before continuing. "Being with you is always incredible, but without a condom..." She trails off and moans in a way that makes your entire body shudder. "Is so much better."

You can't disagree, even if you don't think it was amazing because of the lack of protection but you're not going to say that. Not if she isn't going to.

"I know right," you reply, it coming out in a half groan as if she says shit like that, you'll be hard again in a flash. She hears it, giggling again and burying her face into your shoulder to hide the teasing sparkle in her eye as she was saying it, and you throw your other arm around her, pulling her tighter as it's just natural. "We could've done it like that the other times, seeing as you got pregnant anyway," you add on, needing to explain why you were laughing initially and Brittany takes it well, giggling louder and reeling back to look you in the eye once more.

Except unlike before, there's no playful glint or sign of exhaustion in her expression, and the smile drops from your face as she manoeuvres and climbs over you again, bracketing your hips with her legs and sitting on your lap again. It happens so quick you can only react by helping her do it, hands braced on her waist, and you know you're still recovering as it's been about a minute since you finished, but you think you're going to be reloading pretty quickly if her movement is anything to go by as she lowers herself back down, face so close to yours now that you can see the intention and she's not even trying to hide it.

God. The things this girl does to you.

"Guess we've got some time to make up for then," Brittany whispers, flashing you a smirk before sucking your bottom lip into her mouth and nibbling gently, releasing it with a low slap.

"Fuck," you groan, unable to keep it in as your fingertips press into the skin of her waist and your hips involuntarily jerk upwards, your cock already beginning to throb as she switches you on like a fucking light switch. "How are you doing this to me?" You get out, a strong rasp in your tone that makes Brittany's eyes darken even more so as she stares down at you, and it was rhetorical, but she still grins cheekily and lifts a shoulder, shrugging in response.

"I don't know but…" She pauses and flicks her hair over her shoulder before dropping her face to your neck and biting down on your pulse point, making you jerk up again into her and speaks into your skin. "I know what I want to do to you next," she purrs.

You go to ask exactly what that is, but she makes it pretty damn clear as she peppers kisses down your throat, over your collarbone and slinks down the bed simultaneously. Her hands follow the trail her lips just made, fingers dancing across your skin and setting you alight again, and blue eyes flash up to you as she kneels between your legs, still kissing down your stomach as her hand wraps around your cock and begins pumping firmly.

And you know what she means, especially when she proves it by biting her bottom lip, shooting you a wink that makes your insides turn to mush and then runs the flat of her tongue up the underside of your cock and well…

She may be doing incredible things to you, but you think she's only paying you back for what you do to her.

Uh oh...