Brett stirred from his sleep with a gentle groan, he shifted slightly, feeling a comforting weight pressing down on his chest. Opening his eyes slowly, he blinked away the remnants of sleep to see a tousled mop of dark hair resting on his clothed chest.
A smile tugged at the corners of Brett's lips as he gazed down at Santana, her peaceful expression bathed in the early morning light. He couldn't help but marvel at the sight of her, the way her features softened in sleep, the rise and fall of her chest with each slow breath.
Reaching out with a gentle hand, Brett ran his fingers through her hair, his touch feather-light against her silky strands. He felt her stir beneath his touch, a soft murmur escaping her lips as she shifted closer, her grip tightening around his waist in a sleepy embrace.
As Santana began to rouse from her slumber, Brett couldn't help but admire how moved, the graceful arch of her back as she stretched, the way her eyes fluttered open to reveal their sparkling depths.
"Morning" Brett murmured, his voice barely above a whisper as he leaned down to press a tender kiss against Santana's forehead. He felt her smile against his skin, a contented sigh escaping her lips as she nuzzled closer to him.
With a sense of utter contentment washing over him, Brett wrapped his arms around Santana, holding her close as they lay together in the quiet stillness of the morning. He felt a soft pressure against his neck, followed by the sensation of lips brushing against his skin. A soft chuckle escaped his lips as he turned his head to look at Santana, who was lying beside him, her face adorned with a mischievous grin.
Planting a kiss on her lips, Brett couldn't help but smile as he pulled back slightly to gaze into her eyes. "Did you sleep well?" he asked, his voice tinged with affection. Santana's lips curved into a smile as she nodded. "Like a baby" she replied, her voice soft and melodic.
He stretched his arms above his head, feeling the satisfying pull of his muscles, Brett couldn't help but revel in the simple joy of the moment. The weight of the world seemed to lift from his shoulders as his shirt rode up slightly, exposing his six-pack. Santana's eyes sparkled with admiration as she ran her hands over his exposed skin, a soft murmur escaping her lips. "So hot" she murmured to herself, her touch sending a shiver down Brett's spine. "Okay," he said, a grin spreading across his face, "let's go out and get some brunch."
As Santana nodded in agreement, Brett got up from the bed, feeling a surge of excitement coursing through him at the thought of spending the day with her. He gestured towards the en-suite bathroom. "You can use my bathroom" he offered, his voice warm and inviting.
As Santana made her way toward the bathroom, Brett's eyes followed her, his heart pounding with anticipation. The sight of her nipples poking through his t-shirt, was almost too much to bear, sending a jolt of desire coursing through him. With a shaky breath, he tore his gaze away, reminding himself to keep his composure.
Taking a moment to collect himself, Brett headed towards the bathroom cabinet, rummaging through it in search of a spare toothbrush. His mind raced with thoughts of Santana, he knew that he wanted to be with her but he also knew that he needed time, he needed to take things slow.
With a smile, Brett made his way toward the downstairs bathroom, the cool spray of water washing over him and soothing his racing thoughts. As the water cascaded over his skin, he let out a sigh of relief, the chill of the water helping to clear his mind and ground him in the present moment.
As he stepped out of the shower, Brett felt a sense of calm wash over him, a newfound clarity settling over his mind. He he made his way back to the bedroom, he found Santana waiting for him, a radiant smile on her face. With a smile of his own, Brett took her hand in his, ready to embark on their morning together.
Brett pushed himself harder on the treadmill, the rhythmic pounding of his feet against the belt drowned out by the pulsating beat of his music. With each step, he felt the tension and stress of the day melt away, replaced by a sense of exhilaration and focus. He was determined to push himself to his limits, to sweat out the indulgences of the past few days, and to emerge feeling stronger and more energized than ever before.
As he ran, lost in his thoughts and the steady rhythm of his workout, Brett was suddenly interrupted by the sound of someone approaching. He glanced over his shoulder to see Puck sauntering towards him, a mischievous grin on his face.
"Hey, bro," Puck said, his voice laced with excitement. "Mind if I join you?" Brett smiled and nodded his head, gesturing for Puck to hop onto the treadmill beside him "Of course" he replied, adjusting his pace to match Puck's.
As they ran side by side, the two friends fell into an easy rhythm, their conversation flowing effortlessly as they caught up on each other's lives. Puck asked Brett about his night with Santana, wiggling his eyebrows suggestively as he did so.
Brett laughed, shaking his head in amusement. "We just watched a couple of movies and hung out" he admitted, a playful glint in his eyes. "We had a great evening."
Puck raised an eyebrow, a teasing smirk playing at the corners of his lips. "Come on, bro," he said, nudging Brett with his elbow. "You must be dying to smash her."
Brett chuckled, shaking his head. "I'm fine, Puck" he insisted, his voice tinged with amusement. "We're taking things slow." Puck shrugged, grinning as he increased his pace on the treadmill. "Suit yourself" he replied, his voice filled with playful sarcasm. Brett laughed, rolling his eyes at his friend's antics.
Puck sauntered into Quinn and Santana's apartment with a confident swagger, his usual cocky grin plastered across his face. He found Quinn and Santana in the kitchen, both of them busy preparing a meal.
"Hey, ladies," he greeted them, his tone playful as he leaned against the kitchen counter. "Guess who I've been with?" he added, wiggling his eyebrows suggestively. Quinn raised an eyebrow, shooting Puck a curious glance. "Who?" she asked, her interest piqued.
Puck turned his gaze to Santana, a mischievous smirk tugging at the corners of his lips. "Brett," he replied, his voice dripping with innuendo as he watched Santana closely. Santana looked up from chopping vegetables, "Brett?" she echoed, furrowing her brow in confusion. "Is he okay?" she asked, concern lacing her tone.
Puck chuckled, shaking his head in amusement. "More than okay," he replied, a knowing gleam in his eyes. "He told me you two had a good evening," he added, his smirk widening as he watched Santana's reaction.
Santana met Puck's gaze, "We did" she confirmed, her voice soft but filled with warmth. "See, Santana" he began, his tone laced with playful teasing, "you needed to trust the Puckasaurus. You didn't want to go on my blind date, and now look at you—head over heels in love."
Santana paused in her vegetable cutting, shooting Puck a pointed look. "Puck, it's been two months" she countered, her voice tinged with amusement. "And besides, you need to stop putting your ideas in his head. You'll give him a complex."
Puck shrugged nonchalantly, though there was a twinkle of mischief in his eyes. "Hey, I'm just looking out for my boy" he replied with a grin. Santana rolled her eyes, though there was a fondness in her gaze as she looked at Puck."Yeah, yeah, whatever you say, Puck" Santana said with a playful smirk, turning her attention back to the vegetables on the cutting board. "But just remember, not everyone moves at the same speed when it comes to relationships." Puck chuckled, knowing that Santana had a point, "Fair enough." Puck conceded with a grin.
Santana's fingers danced over the keyboard as she typed furiously, her mind fully absorbed in her work. It was a typical morning at the office, the steady hum of activity surrounding her as she focused on the task at hand. But as she glanced at her phone, a small frown creased her brow. There was no morning text from Brett, something that had become a comforting routine over the past few months.
Concern gnawed at her as she tapped her phone, opening up her messages and scrolling through the empty inbox. With a sigh, she decided to take a quick break and give Brett a call, just to check up on him. Dialing his number, she waited anxiously as the phone rang, each tone stretching out into eternity until finally, he answered.
"Hey, are you okay?" she asked, her voice laced with worry. There was a heavy sigh on the other end of the line before Brett spoke, his voice strained and tired. "Not really" he admitted. "I'm sick, and I've been trying to look after the boys."
Santana's heart clenched at the exhaustion in his voice. "What's wrong?" she asked gently, her concern deepening. Brett hesitated for a moment before responding. "I'm not sure," he admitted. "I just can't seem to keep any food down. And Emily's parents are working, so I'm on my own with the boys."
Santana's mind raced as she tried to think of a solution. "Do you need anything?" she asked, her voice soft and reassuring. There was a brief pause on the other end of the line before Brett responded. "I think I'll be fine, I've put Disney+ on," he said quietly.
Santana's brow furrowed with worry as she hung up the phone, her mind racing with concern for Brett and the boys. She couldn't shake the feeling that something wasn't right, and she knew she had to do something to help.
Quickly packing up her work, Santana made her way to Brett's house when she arrived at the door, she took a deep breath before knocking, her stomach churning with anxiety. Brett's surprised expression greeted her as he opened the door, his face pale and drawn with exhaustion. Santana's heart clenched at the sight of him, and she instinctively reached out to feel his forehead. "You don't look so good," she said softly, "You feel hot."
Brett offered her a weak smile, his eyes tired and worn as he stepped aside to let her in, his movements sluggish and unsteady. "Thanks for coming" he muttered, his voice hoarse with fatigue. "You didn't have to though."
Santana nodded sympathetically as she followed him into the house, her mind already racing with plans to help him feel better. She knew she couldn't leave him to fend for himself, especially not when he was feeling so unwell.
Santana stood in the doorway, her heart swelling at the sight before her. Two blonde-haired boys, James and Oliver, were nestled in the cozy living room, each absorbed in their activities. It was a surreal moment for her, finally meeting Brett's sons in person after seeing them only in photographs.
As she stepped further into the room, Santana felt Brett's reassuring hand on her lower back, a silent gesture of support that eased her nerves. She returned his touch with a grateful smile, grateful for his calming presence by her side.
James, the older of the two, sat quietly on the couch, his attention fully captured by the movie playing on the television screen. His blonde hair was tousled and his eyes bright with curiosity as he followed the antics of Lightning McQueen and his friends.
Meanwhile, Oliver was sprawled out on the floor, surrounded by an array of colorful toys. His bright blue eyes flickered with curiosity as he glanced up at Santana, momentarily puzzled by her presence before returning his attention to his toys.
Brett watched Santana closely, gauging her reaction to meeting his boys for the first time. He could sense her apprehension, her desire to make a good impression on his sons. He placed a reassuring hand on her lower back, his touch grounding her and easing her nerves. She glanced up at him, finding comfort in his steady presence as he offered her a supportive smile.
Santana settled onto the couch beside Brett, he chuckled softly, his eyes crinkling at the corners with affection as he glanced at Santana. "They seem to like you" he remarked playfully, as they were both oblivious to this new person in their home.
She reached into her bag, pulling out a box of Pedialyte. "I got you these," she said, holding the bottle out to him. Brett's eyebrows lifted in surprise as he accepted the bottle, his expression grateful. "Thanks" he replied, his voice sincere. He watched as Santana rose from the couch, heading towards the kitchen with purpose.
Santana moved gracefully through the kitchen, her movements fluid and confident as she filled a glass with water for Brett. She couldn't help but feel a sense of contentment wash over her as she prepared the drink, grateful for the opportunity to take care of him.
Returning to the living room, Santana offered Brett the glass of water with a warm smile. He accepted it with a nod of thanks, taking a sip as he leaned back against the cushions of the couch. Santana watched Brett with concern etched on her features as he hesitated, his eyes betraying the fatigue that weighed heavily upon him. She could see the weariness in his every movement, the strain of sleepless nights and endless worry etched into the lines of his face.
"Brett," she said softly, reaching out to gently touch his arm, "you look exhausted. Why don't you go lie down for a bit? I'll keep an eye on them. They're only down the hallway, and I'll be right here if you need anything."
Brett's brows furrowed in uncertainty as he glanced between Santana and his sons, the weight of responsibility pressing down on him like a heavy burden. He sighed, his shoulders slumping with exhaustion as he nodded reluctantly.
"Are you sure?" he asked, his voice tinged with doubt. "I don't want to impose on you." Santana offered him a reassuring smile, her gaze unwavering as she nodded in affirmation. "Of course I'm sure," she said, her tone firm and unwavering. "You need rest, Brett."
Brett hesitated for a moment longer, uncertainty flickering in his eyes. Santana could sense his reluctance, the deep-rooted instinct to care for his sons warring with his own need for rest. She squeezed his hand gently, offering him a supportive smile.
"Go on" she urged softly. With a final nod of gratitude, Brett relented, his exhaustion evident in the heavy slump of his shoulders. "Thanks, Santana," Brett murmured, his voice heavy with fatigue. "I'll take Oliver with me. He could use a nap."
Santana nodded in understanding, her expression filled with empathy as she watched Brett scoop up his youngest son in his arms. With a soft smile, Brett turned his attention to James, who was still seated on the couch, his gaze fixed on the television screen. "Jay" Brett said gently, "do you mind hanging out with my friend Santana for a bit? I'll be right down the hall if you need anything."
James glanced up at Santana. He studied her for a moment as if searching for reassurance in her kind smile and warm gaze. After a moment's hesitation, he nodded slowly, a shy smile tugging at the corners of his lips.
"We'll be fine, won't we?" Santana said softly, James nodded again, his expression growing more confident as he turned his attention back to the television. With a grateful smile, Brett offered Santana a nod of thanks before making his way down the hallway toward the bedroom.
As he settled Oliver into his crib, Brett couldn't help but feel a wave of exhaustion wash over him. Closing his eyes, Brett let out a soft sigh, allowing himself to finally relax into the embrace of sleep.
The gentle glow of the television cast a warm ambiance in the living room as Santana and James sat side by side on the couch, engrossed in the movie playing before them. Santana couldn't help but smile at James's enthusiasm as he watched the screen, his eyes wide with wonder and excitement.
As the movie reached a lull, James turned to Santana with a hopeful expression. "Do we have any snacks?" he asked. Santana glanced around the room, "I don't think so" she replied apologetically. "But let me check the kitchen."
Making her way to the kitchen, Santana opened the fridge and freezer, her heart sinking at the sight of the sparse shelves. With a sigh, she turned to James. "Looks like we're out of luck," she said, disappointment lacing her voice.
James's face fell momentarily, but then he perked up with an idea. "How about we make some snacks?" he suggested a hopeful gleam in his eyes.
Santana smiled at his enthusiasm. "That's a great idea," she said, scanning the empty fridge and bare cupboards. An idea began to form in her mind, and she turned back to James with a grin. "How about we make some cookies?" she suggested.
James's eyes lit up at the suggestion, a wide grin spreading across his face. "Yeah, cookies!" he exclaimed, nodding enthusiastically.
Santana glanced around the kitchen, taking stock of their supplies. She sighed inwardly, "Looks like we need to make a quick trip to the store first," Santana said, turning to James. "But once we're back, we'll bake up a storm."
James's face lit up with excitement at the prospect of a trip to the store. "Okay!" he exclaimed, bouncing on his heels.
"Let me just leave a note for your dad in case he wakes up." as she quickly jotted down a note, explaining their plans and letting him know where they were headed. With that taken care of, they headed out the door, the promise of cookies and adventure dancing in their minds.
The grocery store bustled with activity as Santana and James made their way inside. Santana couldn't help but smile as she watched James's excitement, his eyes wide with wonder as he took in the sights and sounds of the bustling store.
"Want to sit in the cart?" Santana asked, gesturing to the shopping cart parked nearby. James's face lit up with excitement at the prospect, and he nodded eagerly "Yeah!", with James safely situated Santana began to make her way through the aisles, filling the cart with baking basics and items to replenish their bare fridge.
As she perused the shelves, an idea began to form in Santana's mind. She remembered the recipe for her abuela's Chicken Pozole, a comforting and hearty dish that she knew Brett would love. With determination, she added the ingredients to her cart, envisioning the delicious meal she would prepare for him.
"Hey, James, how about tacos for dinner?" Santana asked, turning to her young companion with a smile. James's eyes lit up at the mention of tacos, and he nodded enthusiastically. "I love tacos!" he exclaimed excitedly. Santana chuckled at his enthusiasm, feeling a warmth spread through her at the sight of his joy.
As they approached the checkout counter, their cart laden with groceries, Santana couldn't help but feel a sense of satisfaction. The shopping trip had been a success, and she was looking forward to cooking up a storm in the kitchen.
With James's help, they unloaded the bags onto the conveyor belt, the sound of the items being scanned filling the air. James eagerly assisted in carrying some of the bags as they made their way out of the store and towards her car. Upon arriving back at Brett's, Santana wasted no time in getting down to business. She set about unpacking the groceries, James eagerly assisting her as they filled the kitchen with an array of ingredients and supplies.
Once everything was unpacked, Santana lifted James onto the counter, allowing him a front-row seat to the baking extravaganza that was about to unfold. James's eyes sparkled with excitement as he watched Santana gather the ingredients for the cookies, his anticipation palpable.
As Santana cracked the eggs into a bowl, James leaned in close, his curiosity piqued. "Can I help?" he asked eagerly, his voice filled with excitement.
Santana smiled and nodded, handing him a whisk to stir the batter. James took to the task with gusto, his small hands gripping the whisk tightly as he mixed the ingredients with determination.
As they worked together, Santana couldn't help but marvel at the joy and enthusiasm radiating from James. As the batter began to take shape, James couldn't resist sneaking a taste, his fingers dipping into the bowl before Santana could stop him. He giggled mischievously as he licked the batter from his fingers, his eyes dancing with delight.
Santana couldn't help but laugh at his antics. With his help, Santana finished mixing the batter and scooped it onto baking trays, placing them in the oven to bake. As they waited for the cookies to bake, Santana ruffled James's hair affectionately, a smile tugging at the corners of her lips.
With the cookies in the oven, Santana turned her attention to preparing her abuela's chicken pozole. It was a dish that held a special place in her heart, a recipe passed down through generations. With practiced hands, Santana began by prepping the ingredients as she diced onions, minced garlic, and chopped cilantro.
Turning on the stove, The sizzle of the vegetables, as they hit the pan, filled the air, mingling with the sweet scent of the baking cookies as Santana added the shredded pre-cooked chicken to the pot. With the ingredients simmering away in the pot, Santana added the final touches to her pozole. She squeezed in the juice of a few fresh limes, the citrusy aroma mingling with the earthy spices, and stirred in a handful of chopped cilantro for a burst of freshness.
As the pozole simmered on the stove the timer for the cookies finally went off, Santana pulled the trays from the oven, the chocolate chip cookies golden brown and fragrant.
With a sense of satisfaction, Santana transferred the cookies to a cooling rack, the warm aroma of freshly baked treats filling the kitchen.
Santana glanced over at James, who was eagerly awaiting his cookie and smiled. "Do you want a glass of milk to go with your cookie?" she asked, already knowing the answer. His eyes lit up as he nodded enthusiastically, and she couldn't help but chuckle at his eagerness.
Returning to the counter with a glass of milk, she lifted him back up onto the countertop beside her. She handed him his cookie, now cooled enough to eat, and watched as he took a bite, a look of pure delight spreading across his face.
Taking her cookie, Santana dipped it into his glass of milk, the warm sweetness of the cookie contrasting beautifully with the cool, creamy milk. She took a bite, savoring the familiar flavors and the simple pleasure of enjoying a homemade treat. "You made some tasty cookies, James," she said between bites.