#ITYTD Santana POV

[monochromeheartbeat]

🌹

Snippet of something from Santana's POV from the next chapter (not actually part of the chapter).

Under the cut you go:

Warm breath wafted against to top of my head, preceded by the small sounds of Brittany inhaling. I wouldn’t quite call it snoring - it was too cute to be something so irritating as a snore. And she only made that sound when my face was pressed to her neck, just under her chin, anyway. I nuzzled my face impossibly further into the crook there and inhaled deeply, my arm instinctively squeezing her closer. She exhaled a hum and squeezed me back. I was sure she was still fast asleep, yet, somehow my heart fluttered a bit that she held me so dearly even so. 

She’d kept me close all night. The night before, too. I pulled back a little to look up at her slumbering face. I’d be lying to myself, as I often did, if I said I wasn’t completely stricken by how pretty she looked. Her golden feather-like eyelashes and the light speckle of freckles that accented the curve of her cheekbones. Her perfect and adorable nose, close enough to brush against mine if I tilted my head up just a bit. Lips that were the shade of pink that promised to be as sweet as they looked. 

I closed my eyes and leaned in again. A beautiful woman with heart so big and kind, and an unspoken strength she didn’t know she had. I felt my stomach tighten as I tried to squash my feelings down. There was a pang of guilt twisted together with the deep longing I had for her, and I knew somehow I was undeserving of all this. Still, her embrace was so soothing, and I couldn’t will myself to stop her. Call it selfish or whatever. 

Things had been so much easier when I didn’t have to share this, share her, with anyone. We had been fine with just our moments of unspoken understandings and the wordless dance between us. Reading each others bodies, relying on instinct, instead of worrying too much about the thoughts behind our actions. It was fine… until suddenly it wasn’t. I’d confused her, asking her to trust me without ensuring she understood me. To love me when I made my own feelings so complicated and hidden. Beneath layers of resentment and fear, masked by the best version of me I could invent. 

Brittany deserved someone who loved her proudly. I hid away and dragged her down with me. I need to deal with my shit so she knows I’m not going to do to her what I do to everyone else. I gave her another gentle squeeze, and she murmured softly under her breath. I smiled against her neck. 

Keep her close, not push her away. She made that easy enough.

——————————————

“Stop pestering me, Quinn,” I grumbled under my breath, tossing my phone at my open bag next to me on the floor. I didn’t need more pressure and lecturing from her regarding my feelings. Dealing with my own self-doubt and insecurities was hard enough as it was, I didn’t need Quinn playing psychologist. Not to mention her constant interference with Brittany and I. Had she always been this obnoxious?

I sat slumped in front of the piano in the sound studio I reserved weekly for both my independent study meetings with my professor and extra time I needed to actually work on assignments. That being said, I had hardly been in here. It reminded me of the choir room in high school. There were similar maroon-colored sound proofing foam panels along the walls - a much higher quality I might add - against wood the same color as the risers that held the world’s most uncomfortable high school chairs. I hated it here for all the reasons I had loved the choir room. It was a place for the magic of music. The magic I was currently abundantly lacking.  

I stared across the room at the instruments, not unlike the piano I was currently sitting at. Their presence was daunting. Full of potential, but motionless and silent. 

[monochromeheartbeat]

Hey! just wanted to let you know that I often come back to re-read itytd and love it a bunch. was just curious if you'd write any previously done chapters back under Santana's pov like you did with hot cocoa and 11/12. Thanks and hope all is well with you!

I had a few I wrote but honestly don’t remember a lot of them. You can find them here:

I also started a Santana POV prequel a few months back, but it’s not really ready for anyone else to read.

[monochromeheartbeat]

ITYTD Oneshot - Santana POV: Hot Cocoa

At first, I thought I did something wrong. She said she liked it, but then she didn’t want to anymore. It was agonizing. That she’d drawn away from me when I tried to lean in and kiss her. But then I saw the look on her face, and recognized that fear as the same I felt constantly before I’d kissed her that first time when we were dancing. And after, when I thought I’d messed up. She wanted to kiss me too, she just wouldn’t.

“Hey,” I breathed, lifting my hand to delicately brush her hair out of her face. She’d let it fall down when she looked to the ground to avoid my gaze. She whispered my name back, and it practically broke my heart in pieces. Her voice was so small. I leaned forward and kissed her nose. Wait, maybe I shouldn’t have done that. Oh, fuck it, she smiled. 

I asked her about Quinn and Rachel; they had butted in, and now it was making Brittany anxious. I was a little anxious too. Rachel and Quinn were so freaking annoying like that. I was scared they’d start poking their nose into my business, and maybe it was more trouble than it was worth to keep something like liking Brittany a secret. God, I hated that. I was sure Brittany hated me for it too.

“You didn’t make me do anything, Santana,” Brittany sighed, breaking me from my thoughts as she leaned forward and snuggled up against me. I was surprised, considering how she’d retracted when I tried to kiss her, but it made me happier than she knew. I held her in my embrace for as long as I could, until I started feeling a bit nervous about when Quinn and Rachel would come home. With a quick peck to her cheek, I drew back and held her hands.

“Let’s set the table, okay?”

_________________________________________________________

It was surprisingly difficult for Brittany not to run her hands along my arms or tickle my sides, especially considering she didn’t seem to be okay with us kissing. But I was just as eager, despite myself. I’d even suffered through one of Rachel and Kurt’s performances on the one night I had off from work just so I could sit next to her and sneak quick touches to her hands and arms. It was totally worth it. I just couldn’t get enough of her. Maybe I should have given her space, but she didn’t seem to want it either. And somehow, that’s how I ended up in her bed again last night. 

My phone started playing a song I used to love, but now only associated with the obnoxious sound of being woken up. I wrinkled my nose and buried my face into the closest soft object I could find. In this case, Brittany’s neck. She shifted, and my grip on her waist tightened.

“-Five more minutes,” I groaned. She paused, and a second later the sound stopped. 

“Only five, okay?” she whispered as her arms squeezed around my body. I smiled and contentedly hummed, nodding my head against her neck. It was pure, absolute bliss to lay there. Probably because I was still half asleep and pretty much dead to the world, but oh my god. If existing between awake and asleep was the smell of Brittany’s hair and the feel of her body against mine, I never wanted to know a better reality. 

I cheated myself, like I knew I would. I told you I was troubl-

Fucking shit, shut up, Amy Winehouse. Let me get my snuggle on! 

The sound of my alarm stopped again when Brittany moved to turn it off. My face scrunched in displeasure at all the movement.

“Can we just lay in bed all day?” I whined, snuggling harder into Brittany. She chuckled lightly, and I relaxed a bit. Her laugh was like honey.

“If we did that, you’d just be up all night,” she replied. Any hint of a frown left my face as I tried not to laugh.

“What’s funny?”

I peeled my face away from her neck to grin up at her. God, how was she so awake? And so pretty? Her face lit up like a Christmas tree when I met her gaze. 

“Just... wanky,” I said, winking. Oh, great, Lopez. Like she’s going to be wooed by how charming you are with bed head and morning breath.

Her eyes widened slightly and her grin seemed to grow as she whispered, “What does that even mean?”

I sat up a bit and smiled as slyly as I could manage. 

“It means...” I paused, wetting my lips as I spoke. I noticed her eyes flicked downwards. “That there are a lot of reasons I could be up all night.”

The way her cheeks flushed made me smirk. She was cute and coy, and it made the urge to kiss her all the more appealing. I almost leaned in for the kill when she fidgeted beneath my weight.

“...Like watch late night cartoons?” 

Cute. Everything about her was just absolutely adorable, and I couldn’t help but laugh. I knew she knew what I meant, but it was refreshing that she was so virtuous. I wanted to kiss her so badly, but I also knew I couldn’t force a kiss on her again. I waited a moment, testing to see if she would brave the few inches between us. She held her ground, and so I leaned forward, tilting my head to the side, and kissed her cheek instead. She let out a small breath of air as I lingered at her cheek.

“I’m sorry,” she mumbled as I pulled back. I smiled, and lightly shook my head.

“You don’t have to be,” I replied. I was sorry for making her feel obligated to kiss me. I wasn’t really a patient person, but I could wait forever for her if she wanted me to.

“I...” Brittany closed her eyes, and I tilted my head to the side as I gazed down at her. My smile faded as I realized her brow wrinkled slightly. I couldn’t tell if she was upset or frustrated or worried. Her fists bunched at the back of my shirt, and suddenly she was squeezing me so tightly that I could barely keep myself up.

“-Oof!” I almost wheezed. She had quite the death grip, but somehow even that seemed endearing more than anything else. “Britt...” 

She opened her eyes and stared timidly up at me. I smiled for her, and tried to sit up, but her grip was firm on my back, keeping me close in her embrace. I laughed heartily and strained my neck upward to kiss her forehead.

“So does this mean we can stay in bed all day?” I asked, tilting my head to the side so I could nestle down on top of her. She laughed lightly, and shook her head.

“No, but maybe just five more minutes.”

I grinned and snuggled as close as I could. She was warm, and even though I was too beneath the covers, it was the kind of warm that wasn’t uncomfortable. I never wanted to get out of bed.

“I like the way you think,” I sighed softly.

_________________________________________________________

“You haven’t done anything.”

I gazed across the desk in front of me at my professor. He wore a stern frown on his face as he flipped my notebook closed.

“Almost half the semester has gone by, and you haven’t written a single song or instrumental,” he continued.

“I’m here today,” I replied, shrugging my shoulders lightly. 

“Ms. Lopez, when you requested an independent study with me last semester, you had some very encouraging ideas,” he continued. “Don’t make me regret setting aside time for this; I want you to have some samples for me next week of what your sound is supposed to be like.”

“I never said I was going to write my own music,” I replied. “This whole thing is what you wanted me to do.”

“I still need you to be showing progress, Ms. Lopez. Figure out your song selection. You mentioned you were taking dance lessons last we met.” He paused and shook his head. So I’d skipped a few meetings with him, it’s not like he probably didn’t enjoy the free time he’d gained out of it. “Next week. I want something tangible.”

“Audio isn’t tangible, Professor Larkin,” I said, rolling my eyes before I could stop myself.

“You know what I meant,” he barked. “And stop skipping these meetings, or I’m going to have to give you a failing grade for your mid-term.”

_________________________________________________________ 

I kicked my foot against the ground, muttering under my breath as I waited outside of the Juilliard building. Larkin really had a stick up his ass about my project. I didn’t even like the idea of doing live performance work. It was just the one the board decided was the strongest among my presentations. But I did like singing. And I wanted to sing. Dance, if necessary, but really. I just wanted someone to hear my voice and give me a freaking record contract like Jones had. I was just as good, if not more talented. And Mercedes never danced - what the fuck was up with that? Why did I have to learn to dance?

I paused and gazed up at the Juilliard building. It was a strange piece of architecture, but definitely impressive. My attention was drawn away from the building as a group of students flocked to the entrance. I grinned and adjusted my bag on my shoulder as I slipped past the glass doors with them. No badge? No problem. I fixed my sunglasses on my face. There were too many students walking by for the guards to notice that I wasn’t a student, and I went straight for the elevators before someone could catch on.

Shit. I realized the moment I stepped inside, I had no idea what floor Brittany’s class was on. It wasn’t like she knew I was visiting. I glanced at the number pad and then to the remaining occupants of the elevator. I’d just go out at the top and start from there. 

It wasn’t long before I was alone in the elevator. I guess not as many students went down as they came up for class. Probably because a class was just starting, or something. I hit the next floor down from the top, after I discovered there weren’t any dance classrooms on the floor I’d started on. I tapped my foot impatiently as I waited for the elevator to move and removed my sunglasses. When did Brittany’s class end? Soon, right?

The doors sprang open, and suddenly I found myself not having to worry about whether classes started or ended or where to find Brittany. A mess of blonde crashed straight into me.

“Britt!” I exclaimed, flashing a toothy grin for a moment before I realized she had tears streaming down her face. I quickly gripped her arms and guided her backwards, looking left and right as I did so. No one was around, so then what...?

“What’s wrong? Britt?” Was she hurt? What happened? She pressed all of her weight into me, and I struggled to keep her upright. If I hadn’t been so sure I was about to drop her, I would have probably started yelling. Not at her. At whoever the fuck was the reason she was crying. 

“Shh, it’s okay,” I cooed, attempting to readjust my hold on her. If there was just some way to sit her down, I could figure out the details of what was going on. “Is there a study lounge or a classroom we can go into?”

She nodded and gurgled a response. It wasn’t much help, but that was fine. I’d just knock down every door until we found somewhere we could be alone. I gripped her arms tightly, tugging her down the hall. There was a door propped open and no one inside, so I pulled her in and quickly shut the door behind us. She couldn’t stand any longer, and quickly dropped to the floor. Shit.

“Hey,” I whispered, kneeling down to join her. I wrapped my arms around her and held onto her as tightly as I could. It was hard to stay calm while she was freaking out, especially when I had no idea why, but she needed to calm down before she could tell me anything. I pulled her into my lap, and just sat and waited. Waited for her breathing to return to normal and for her tears to stop.

“S-san...t-ana...” she whimpered. It made my chest hurt to hear such a sad sound escape her throat. Especially in association with my name. I had been dragging my hand soothingly up and down her arm, but stopped when I leaned back a little so that I could wipe the tears from her eyes. She stared up at me like a kicked puppy.

“No, just breathe, okay?” I said softly. “We’ll talk. I can wait. Just breathe.”

It took a while for her to calm down, but I was okay with that. I just sat, looking across the room at the mirror. She was cradled in my arms, and I swayed us slowly back and forth. The room was a little dark because the lights were out, but the darkness suited us, I thought. It felt like we were hiding from the spotlight.

“I’m sorry, S-santana,” she stammered, pulling out of my arms a little bit. I let her have her space, but kept my hand pressed to her back so that she knew I would support her if she needed it.

“No apologies,” I said sternly. “You didn’t do anything wrong to me.”

Her mouth curved into a frown as she shook her head.

“B-but I have,” she sniffled. “I’ve been s-so sc-scared. About us k-kissing-”

Shit. She had been? I knew she was nervous, but actually scared? Wait, was this why she was crying?

“-A-and that I-I’d have to m-move out-”

Oh. No, shit. Why would she think she’d have to move out? I would never-

“-And that Quinn and R-Rachel and T-T-Tina... that they’d hate me. And... I work wi-with Mike! S-Santana. I c-can’t... I d-don’t want to r-ruin it.”

Fuck. Fucking fuckity fuck. I knew that Rachel and Quinn had done something at the studio to make her so nervous. God, why did Tina have to intervene? But that couldn’t be why she was crying now. Here at Juilliard.

“Brittany,” I spoke quietly. “What are you... That’s not... Why are you crying?”

“I-I’m so s-” She shook her head. “So s-s... s-stupid. I-I thought talking t-to Mad-ison w-would help, b-but then... S-Santana, none of them a-are my f-friends.” She buried her face into my shoulder, and I snapped back a bit in surprise. I regretted it instantly, because I knew that couldn’t be comforting at all, so I wrapped my hands delicately over her back. Did she say something about me kissing her? Who was Madison? I guess that really didn’t matter. 

"T-they think I s-sleep around, a-and tha... that I-I'm a...a-"

“Stop,” I said. I pushed my palms against her shoulders before gripping them tightly. She stared up at me with a confused expression. Whatever happened, whatever someone told her, I knew one thing Brittany wasn’t.

“Don’t you dare think that anyone has the right to label you,” I growled. I could feel my nostrils flaring a bit in anger. People were more than just a label. More than just one characteristic. You could be a girl and like dating people. You could be a dancer and that didn’t mean you weren’t smart. You could be a Cheerleader and still maintain a decent GPA. You could be whatever the fuck you wanted, and no one else should ever be able to tell you otherwise.

“You’re not stupid. And you’re definitely not anything else they insinuated about you,” I continued. “Someone that’s so concerned about a kiss isn’t someone that’s throwing their body around like it’s not worth anything.

“You’re special...” I paused, and smiled weakly. Brittany was so different than anyone I’d ever met, but different in every good way. That made her exceptional in my book. “And important. And what the hell were you talking about? Moving out? Where on earth would you get an idea like that?”

“I don’t... I don’t want to start something that will end up with you hating me,” she replied slowly. “And if you stop liking me, I wouldn’t be able to live in your apartment anymore-”

“-Our apartment,” I corrected swiftly. “You’re under the same roommate contract as I am, Brittany. And Quinn and Rachel would be pissed at me if I stopped liking you.” Not that they knew how much I liked her.

“But they’re your friends-”

“Britt, what?” My brow wrinkled as I shook my head. How did she not know? “No, Britt, they like you too. Everyone likes you. Who the hell are those bitches that said shit about you? Screw them! Ugh! Brittany...”

I slipped my hands away from her back, and scooted backwards. I had to raise my hand to my temple, because I just didn’t know how to explain this to her without getting upset that anyone made her feel like she wasn’t liked. I exhaled sharply.

“I just... you fit... so well with...” With me. Say it, Lopez. You fit well with me. 

“Us...” I trailed off. Fucking coward. 

“Please tell me you understand that? I don’t want you to think we don’t care about you.” That I care so much about you. I couldn’t just say that. I had no right to project my feelings on her when she was feeling so terrible. 

“I understand,” I replied with a slow nod. “I was scared. B-because of the way things turned out with Jenna. And then seeing how much everyone cares about you... I felt like I was intruding.”

I wanted to be angry for her. She didn’t even seem like she could be angry at anyone, but what her so-called friend had done was fucking awful. There was no good excuse for it. But that she felt like she didn’t deserve the friends I had...? I bowed my head. Brittany didn’t know how much I didn’t deserve my friends. I never understood how any of them had stuck by me after everything I had done. With Quinn and Puck, and Rachel and Finn. I was probably worse than Jenna.

“I get that,” I replied quietly. I dragged my fingers along her arm and slipped it under her hand until I was clenching it tightly. “But I promise you, I’m never going to steal you rent money or your mattress.” 

She laughed. It made me crack a smile, and then we were both giggling. Maybe not worse than Jenna. I lifted her hands and kissed them gently. She tore them away, and for a second, I thought I shouldn’t have done that, but then she threw her arms around my neck and pressed her forehead to mine. I was so sure she was going to kiss me, I closed my eyes for a moment.

“I actually think we have too many mattresses right now,” she said quietly. I opened my eyes again and smiled weakly. So she didn’t mind sleeping in bed with me after all. That was a relief.

“And after all that work I put into getting it for you,” I scolded. “That’s such a waste, Bri-”

Brittany strained the half an inch necessary to press her lips to mine when I’d convinced myself she wasn’t going to. I grinned, closing my eyes as I kissed back. She didn’t give me a chance to really enjoy it, because suddenly she pulled back. I almost pouted.

“I can still keep the mattress, right?” 

Any hint of my pout disappeared as I wrinkled my nose, digging my fingers into her sides. Could she keep the mattress, oh my fucking god.

“You...are...so...lucky...you’re...cute,” I gritted as I tickled her. She shrieked in delight, even though she was trying her best to push me away. I laughed deviously.

“Stop! Stop! Please!”

_________________________________________________________ 

I stood in front of the stove, attempting to make a grilled cheese sandwich. I thought I looked rather impressive, considering I hadn’t made a grilled cheese sandwich in forever.

“Why did you come to my school today?” 

I glanced back at Brittany, who was swiveling back and forth on the barstool chairs we had in front of the island countertop in the middle of our kitchen. She looked significantly better now that we were home and she wasn’t sobbing anymore. It was still a little noticeable that she’d been crying, based on the tinged color of her nose. 

“Oh, I wanted to drop by and take you to lunch... since last week Quinn stole you before I could get to you,” I said. I’d been so irked by that.

“How did you get into the building? You need to be signed in or have an ID card,” she said.

“I can be very convincing,” I said with a wink, turning back to the stove.

“Did you flash the guard?”

My jaw dropped, and I quickly grabbed the nearest soft object to throw at her. She ducked as the oven mitt went flying past.

“I can’t believe you’d suggest that,” I replied, although I was a little proud. It meant she’d thought of my breasts at least once.

“Seriously, what did you do?”

“I have my ways,” I replied slyly, shrugging my shoulders as I turned to replenish the plate of grilled cheeses. I stared at the blank plate, and frowned. “Save some for me, you pig!”

“Nope,” she grinned and snatched the plate. “Not till you tell me how you got passed the guard.”

I tried to make a grab for the plate, but she snatched the sandwich from it and took a sizable bite. I faked a growl, but couldn’t help but smile when she puffed out her cheeks like a chipmunk. She munched on the sandwich, grinning at me triumphantly. I leaned forward on the countertop, propping up my chin with my hand.

“If I flash you, will you stop eating all of our lunch?” I asked, arching my brow. She jolted forward, coughing as she almost choked on the sandwich. I laughed, spinning around to look back at the pan. She’d definitely thought about my breasts, and that made me feel insanely smug. In a good way, of course.

“I just slipped in with another group of students,” I admitted, picking at a pre-buttered ungrilled cheese sandwich to place it into the frying pan. 

“That’s significantly less interesting.”

I glanced back at her. 

“Did you really expect me to just flash my tits around to just anyone?” I asked seriously. 

“So... I guess that means it was an empty threat,” Brittany smirked and took another bite from the sandwich. I gapped at her, before hastily returning my attention back to the stove. She’d called my bluff.

_________________________________________________________ 

I knew I’d been wanting Brittany to kiss me back for what felt like ages, but snuggling up on the couch was probably just as amazing. I could tell she wasn’t following what I as saying about Jessica Wakefield and the current dynamic between her twin sister, but I hardly cared. I trailed off and practically forgot we were watching television when she dragged her fingers soothingly against my scalp. I hummed contentedly, almost shutting my eyes, when the front door started to make clicking sounds.

I shot up, springing a little to Brittany’s left. Quinn walked in a second later, and I glanced at Brittany.

“Ugh, I am so tired,” Quinn grumbled, setting her bag down on the recliner as she passed. “I am so sick of Kurt calling out of work.”

“Sucks to be you,” I smirked. 

“It’s not like you don’t have work- shouldn’t you be getting ready?”

“I took off,” I yawned, stretching my arms up in the air lazily.

“Why’d you ask for the day off,” Quinn asked as she opened the refrigerator. “You never take off.”

“Because! Brittany has never seen Sweet Valley High,” I exclaimed. “That’s a crime in at least fifteen states.”

“I can’t believe she’s making you watch that show,” Quinn replied, looking to Brittany. “I’m sorry.”

“Take your hate and get it out of my face,” I spat, tossing my hand in the air as I wielded the remote. Brittany laughed.

“I don’t mind,” she replied, smiling at me. 

“Well, if you guys are going to keep watching that, I’m going to go upstairs and find something more productive to do.”

“And by productive, do you mean self-serving?” I grinned.

“Oh, shut up, Santana, I meant read a book,” Quinn scowled as she started up the stairs.

“Oh, yeah right,” I laughed. Definitely sure reading a book was something I’d used as an excuse before. “You’ve been single for three years. There’s no way you don’t have one.”

“You’re so... ugh!” Quinn stormed up the stairs, blushing and flustered. Brittany had doubled over at my side, knocking into me as the both of us started laughing. She reached out and caught me before I fell forward into the coffee table.

“I hate you two!” Quinn’s voice came from the second level. A door slammed, and Brittany sat up a bit.

“Is she really mad?” she asked, recovering from her laughter.

“She won’t be in a few minutes,” I snickered. “I’m kidding, I’m kidding. No, she’s fine.”

“You’re ruthless,” she giggled.

“In bed,” I agreed, smacking my palm to her knee as I winked. 

“Wanky,” she replied, and a breath caught in my throat. I’d just been joking playfully, but any time Brittany used my own phrase against me, I was a bit caught off guard. I wondered for a moment if she thought I meant it. And if by thinking about that, she’d thought of what it would be like, and oh god, did she want to with me? Play it cool, Lopez. 

“Heh,” I huffed, lifting the remote to turn off the TV. I instantly regretted it. Why did I do that? Now there was an awkward silence. Shit. But seriously, she had to be thinking about it to. Fuck, Lopez, the longer you sit here like an idiot not doing anything, the faster she’s going to realize you have no idea what the fuck you’re doing.

“Do you want some hot cocoa?” I asked abruptly. I stood up and quickly walked towards the kitchen without waiting for her reply.

“Um,” she paused, and I saw out of the corner of my eye that she looked a bit confused. Fuck, I was making everything awkward. I opened the pantry so that I didn’t look completely stupid, and quickly found the container of cocoa powder. I stared incredulously at it, as if directions on how-to-not-look-like-a-fucking-idiot-in-front-of-the-girl-you-have-a-huge-major-fucking-crush-on were pasted somewhere on it. 

I looked up at her, realizing she still hadn’t responded, and then quickly looked back at the cocoa. She had to know, right? That I was getting worked up about this. That I just wanted to spend the evening with her. I’d canceled work just to spend more time with her, since she’d been so worked up over those girls in her dance class. It was obvious that part of that was wanting to hold her hand and cuddle, but also... we’d kissed in the dance room. That meant I could kiss her again, right? 

“I was thinking we could watch a movie or something,” I said, rather quickly. I smiled weakly up at her. “Like... in my room?”

Shit, that was way too forward. No one could not get what I was suggesting about that. Fuck, I didn’t even think I was ready for that, I just wanted time alone with her. If Quinn was home, it was hard to just cuddle on the couch. I was ruining everything. How could I suck so bad at trying to pursue a girl when I could get any guy I didn’t want?

“You don’t have a TV,” Brittany replied quietly. Nope, no I didn’t. She saw right through me. While I stood, contemplating how much of an idiot I was, she moved from her seat on the couch to one of the barstools. I knew she was waiting for me to make sense.

“-We can watch something on my laptop,” I suggested, turning to take a step towards her. She smiled, and I instantly felt a bit of relief.

“Okay,” she replied, bowing her shyly. Okay? As in, yes? Oh god.

I spun around quickly and began to gather cups and things from the cabinets. Okay meant yes, and yes meant we’d be alone. Shit, that meant she would find out I had no idea what the fuck I was doing, because all I knew I could do was kiss her. 

Brittany stood up and joined me at the pantry, but I was really too nervous to let her help. I had to busy myself, and giving her the option to help make cocoa meant less things for me to do. She gave up after I smacked her hand a few times. 

Making drinks was therapeutic for me. Cooking of any kind was, really, because it was just a bunch of tiny tasks building up to a much larger, final task. It was something you could complete in a set amount of time, with a specific result. The only problem was that it was easy to get caught up in details, and I often did. I’d forgotten I liked it so much. 

When the cocoa was done, with cinnamon sprinkled over whipped cream and flakes of chocolate too - okay, so I was really trying to impress her, shut up - I turned to set my favorite mug down in front of her. Of course, she didn’t know that my owl mug was my favorite or that I was trusting her a lot by letting her drink out of it. I smiled, satisfied by a job well done, just as she scooped the mug into her hands. I thought she was just going to eat the whipped cream while she waited for it to cool, but she took a huge gulp of it before I could say anything.

“Wait, Britt-”

Her face scrunched in discomfort, and I knew liquid lava was searing her tongue and throat. I winced as she forced herself to swallow, quickly setting the mug on the counter and coughing loudly. She had a glob of whipped cream on her nose, and despite how much she probably regretted drinking the hot cocoa so quickly, I couldn’t help but giggle.

“Oh, gosh, Britt,” I laughed, inching closer to her. She stopped coughing and pouted.

“I burn’ my ‘ongue,” she tried to say, swiveling sheepishly from side to side in her chair. I chuckled again and lifted my hand, tentatively holding it out for a moment.

“I can see that,” I said weakly, dragging my index finger along the tip of her nose to wipe it free of the whipped cream. I paused, and then brought my finger to my mouth. Her eyes widened, and I felt a little sheepish. Had I really just done that? I wasn’t sure if I started laughing first out of embarrassment or if she had. I was so close to her as it was, but I couldn’t help but nestle myself at the edge of her seat. 

“Does it hurt?” It came out so quiet, but also loud as a gun. She nodded, staring widely at me. 

“I’m sorry,” I muttered. I didn’t mean for her to burn her tongue. “I can um... kiss it better?”

Oh, for fuck’s sake, Santana. My cheeks felt hot and I knew I was being stupidly shy. I should have been more confident about stuff like this; I had a certain reputation as it was. But Brittany made everything in the past seem trivial and almost like it never happened. I waited hesitantly for her reply.

“P-please,” she breathed. That was all I needed to hear. I was so close anyway, it was almost like involuntary for me to plant my lips on hers. And god, kissing Brittany felt amazing. I already knew it did, but it was like every time it happened, I forgot how good the last time kissing her was. This kiss was a little frantic, because suddenly she was grasping the sides of my face and pulling me closer, and I had my fingers sifting through her beautiful, soft hair. Her lips moved fluidly against mine; like everything else about her, it was like a dance. 

It was hard just to kiss her. Her lips parted, and I managed to catch her lower lip between mine. It was soft and perfect, and I pulled gently on it before I couldn’t help but want to see if her mouth tasted like hot cocoa. I barely grazed my tongue over her lip when she giggled. Infectious as always, I laughed too.

“Sorry,” I murmured, hardly any distance between us as I spoke. “Is this okay?”

“Definitely,” she said. A loud clattering sound kept her from kissing me again, and we shot apart. I took several steps back, eyes widened and hands gripping the sides of the counter as I saw her cat tearing down the stairs and disappearing behind the couch. A moment after, Quinn stumbled behind, gripping the cat’s food bowl in her hand.

“Ugh, Brittany, where do you keep his food?” she groaned. I glanced to Brittany and watched as she fixed her hair. I bit my own lip, wondering if I looked incriminating. 

“Really? You could have offered to make me some,” Quinn grumbled as she passed. I looked up and caught the end of an eyeroll, but instead of being annoyed, I was a bit relieved. She hadn’t noticed. 

“I wasn’t about to interrupt you and your reading,” I snapped, quick to cover up my tracks. As long as Quinn wasn’t thinking about what we were doing, alone, down in the kitchen, I didn’t care what she was doing.

“Your cat eats too much, Brittany.”

That actually did annoy me, and I rolled my eyes. Just because I was being a bitch didn’t mean she had to ignore me.

“But he’s on Atkins,” Brittany frowned. I looked at her curiously as I lifted my mug of cocoa to my lips. She winked.

“That... doesn’t make any sense,” Quinn replied, reappearing from the back room.

“I think Lord Tubbington should eat people food,” she said with a quick shrug.

“Yeah, ‘cause that cat needs a more balanced diet,” I said, nodding my head smugly.

“You guys are weird,” Quinn replied, glancing at me suspiciously and turning to walk through the living room to the stairwell.

“We’re not the ones reading and feeding kitty cats,” I shouted, a little nervous that she’d given me such a skeptical glance. Quinn grabbed the remote from the recliner and turned to smack me with it before I could jump out of the way.

“Bitch, no you didn’t!” I growled, quickly setting my mug down and chasing her towards the stairs. She had managed to race up them before I could get to her, and I waved my hand threateningly at her as I shouted, “Yeah, you better run!”

I stared after her with a scowl on my face.

“You two are funny,” Brittany said from the kitchen. “Is Rachel home?”

“I don’t think so,” I said, narrowing my eyes for a moment in confusion. “She texted me earlier complaining about an emergency theater rehearsal. Like I give a shit.”

“You do, though,” she replied, and I froze. “You act like you don’t care, but if she hadn’t told you where she was, you’d be worried.”

I paused. If Rachel didn’t come home on time, I would be worried. But I probably wouldn’t have known, either, because I should have been on my way to work by now. Did I really care if she had some theatrical disaster she needed to take care of? I guess it would be inconvenient to have to pick her up from the ER for some fallen prop-related incident. But no, Brittany was right. Maybe I kind of liked Rachel a little bit, on certain days when she didn’t talk so much. And when she made me food that wasn’t vegan.

“Mm, you’re right,” I said as I returned to the kitchen and grabbed my mug to take a sip.

“Will she be home soon?”

I glanced at the door. Brittany wasn’t asking about Rachel because she wanted to know if Rachel was okay, but if Rachel would be home to interrupt us. She was a lot more cunning than she acted. 

“Probably. How about that movie, then?”

I don’t know where I’d found the confidence to be so bold, but maybe it was the thought that Rachel would be home soon that made me eager to get upstairs. I grabbed her hand, but she tugged me back so that she could grab the hot cocoa. 

“Hold on, this looks too good to leave behind,” she cheered, and handed me my mug. I didn’t give a crap about the hot chocolate. I just made it because I was stupidly awkward and nervous. But her kissing me back so feverishly assured me that any tension of the past few days was gone, so I was eager to finish what we’d started. Or at least, continue it.

I lead her quickly up to my room, although she kept pulling on my arm to slow me down to keep from spilling the cocoa. I rushed to close my door before twisting around. She laughed and took my cup of cocoa from me, but I was already scrambling to get my lips back on hers before she could set them down.

“Mm,” she hummed while I inched closer to her on my bed. She dragged her lips away, and I pouted when she pushed my mug into my hands. “Wait, wait. What about the movie?”

“Hm...” I shrugged and took a long sip of my hot chocolate. Maybe if I finished it, she’d give up on trying to do other things. “What about your tongue? Is it better yet?”

I watched as she opened her mouth and scraped her tongue against the roof of her mouth. She did it so goofily that a laugh bubbled it’s way from my throat. 

“Yeah, it’s okay now,” she nodded and lifted her mug to her lips. Damn it, why did I have to make cocoa...? I turned away and shuffled to my desk to grab my laptop. I guess we were going to watch a god damn movie.

“What do you want to watch?” 

“-this is delicious!” she exclaimed, and I looked back. She was staring intently at the mug in her hands, and my frown faded at the adorable expression on her face.

“It’d probably taste even better if you hadn’t burnt your tongue on it,” I replied, sticking out my own tongue quickly before I winked at her. I crawled onto my bed and set my laptop down on the comforter.

“So come on, what do you want to watch?” I asked, scooting as close as I could to her. She leaned into me and snuggled my side as she continued drinking cocoa.

“I dunno. No more Sweet Valley High, please.”

“You didn’t like it?” I know neither of us had really been watching, but seriously, how could she not like it?

“It was good, it’s just hard to follow,” she replied. “What movies do you have?”

“Not the Little Mermaid,” I said, scrunching my nose at her. 

“Sha la la la la la, my oh my,” she giggled as she set her mug down on the backboard shelves of my bed. I wrapped my arm around her back and tugged her close. She twisted to look back at me, smiling brightly as she scanned my eyes. Her’s were impossibly blue. Like the kind of blue you see in pictures and wonder where on earth you find such saturated things in real life. 

“Go on and... kiss the gi-”

She was being playful, but I wasn’t. I wanted to kiss her. Badly. I pushed into her, snatching her lips up in mine. She wasn’t distracted by the cocoa anymore, so I could afford it. We were alone, in my room, with nothing but each other in our arms.  I couldn’t have had a better opportunity. 

I hummed quietly before letting my tongue drag over her lips, and she surprised me by parting them. I had to shift to get a better position to kiss her from. I managed to twist us so that she was resting gently beneath me. I slipped my tongue between her lips, and the feel of her wet tongue on mine was sensational. She moaned softly before wrapping her hands around my neck, and I made me fidget a bit. We both were, doing our best to try and tangle in one another. I felt the sheets beneath us moving, and suddenly felt my laptop bump my leg. Shit.

I snapped back to catch it before it slid off the bed, groaning internally. No, fuck that.

“God damn it,” I grumbled, swinging my leg from over top of Brittany. I had no idea I had even been straddling her. I hastily grabbed my laptop, snapping it shut and quickly put it back on my desk. I was so mad that everything kept interrupting us. I just wanted to freaking kiss her. She was letting me do that now, why was it so hard to actually get a chance to do so?

Brittany sat up a bit in the bed, lifting her arm up above her head and winked. She was going to make me come to her, and I smirked as I crawled back into bed with her. I was just about to nestle myself down on top of her when I caught a bit of purple fuzz in the corner of my eye. The purple pillow thing was staring at us, and I couldn’t help but feel embarrassed that I hadn’t noticed him sooner. For some reason, I felt like he was going to somehow end up being something else that kept us from kissing. Fuck that. I grabbed Jeremy and tossed him across the room.

“Why did you do that? He didn’t do anything to you,” she laughed. I frowned and crouched back over her.

“No more interruptions,” I husked, lowering to kiss her again. She lifted her head up and I let my body rest on top of her while her fingers tangled in my hair. I was careful not to put all my weight into her, but I definitely liked the closeness. My free hand had found its way along her side. She giggled at the touch and licked my lips. Good, she was impatient too. At least I wasn’t the only one. 

I was less concerned about my weight on top of her when we started trying to fight who was dominant in the kiss. It was hard not to let her lead, since she was already really good at leading in everything else. With dancing, and such. But I could lead too. She let out audible breathes between struggled attempts to get control of my tongue. It was so freaking hot. My body started moving on it’s own, much to my relief, and I’d somehow managed to work my leg between hers. She whimpered when I pressed into her, and I took advantage by the momentary distraction to delve my tongue deeper in her mouth. Fingers scrapped along her sides as I longed for more contact with her body. Her fingers dug into my back, and it was just the motivation my body needed to start rocking against her. 

“Santana...!” she gasped into my mouth. Fuck, it felt so good to hear that. To feel her hips trying to match my hips. I wished she would keep making noises. It was such a turn on to hear the unsteady gasp that were escaping her lips. I broke away from kissing her mouth to nip and lick my way to her neck. I’d found myself there often when we fell asleep, but it was so satisfying to be able to kiss and suck on the skin there. I nibbled down on her neck, excited that I’d figured out what made her gasp. 

I was so entranced by everything about her. Her reaction to everything I did. Was that how I reacted when someone touched me the right way? The sounds she made were making my whole body react, and the way she dug her hands into my shirt made my hips buck instinctively. She inhaled sharply, and I shifted so that I could press my leg between hers even harder. 

Fuck, this was getting really raunchy. I wanted get back to kissing her. Her lips tasted delightful, and I wasn’t sure if it was because they were girl lips or because we’d just been drinking cocoa. I snatched her lips back up in mine, pressing my forehead to hers as I struggled to keep myself steady. I was pretty much out of control, caught up in everything about her that this make out session was getting a little more sensual than it should have been. In fact, it was a little overwhelming. 

She groaned and broke away from my lips, but I kept resting my forehead against her as I panted. I had my eyes clenched tightly closed and I was so hot all over, but especially between my legs. It was frustrating and embarrassing how aroused I was, but I didn’t really know how to alleviate that. Not with her. I mean, I knew, but I didn’t know. I guess it was a little scary. No, it was a lot scary. Shit, I really didn’t know what to do. I was so freaking horny, but Brittany wasn’t just someone I wanted to fuck. I shouldn’t have even wanted to move so quickly. Just because she was letting me kiss her didn’t mean she was okay with me touching her like that. I hadn’t even asked.

Her hands pressed down on my back, and I felt my breasts squish against hers. It made the thump of my heart all the more intense as it rattled against my ribcage. She started planting small, gently kisses to my lips.

“Britt,” I breathed heavily. I needed to cool down. My heart was going to burst through my chest, otherwise. She shifted beneath me, and for a moment I was sure she was initiating something more intimate. So I tried to move, rocking my body against her, but I was feeble. I was too shaky. 

Her hand grazed my cheek, and her other moved to my waist. She was gently and slow, and suddenly I understood that she wasn’t trying to get me to move fast at all. She was trying to slow me down. In a sweeping motion, she flipped me onto my back. I attempted to protest, because if she wanted to, I could go on. I could. Maybe. But then she held me still and gave me a long, soft kiss. She just laid over me, holding her lips against mine. It was soothing and tranquilizing. 

After a few seconds, I let out a tiny sigh. My body relaxed on its own, and she pulled away from my lips. I opened my eyes slowly and watched her tuck her hair behind her ear. She was smiling. She looked prettier than she had before, and it was surreal to me that she could look even more amazing after something so chaotic.

“Hey,” I whispered, lifting my hand so that I could touch her cheek. It was just as soft as I recalled it being, but somehow all the more real. She leaned into my hand.

“Hey, yourself,” she replied, and I just had to smile. My fingers started to drag away from her face, because I could barely keep it held up, but she caught it and held it close as she snuggled into me. 

“...Brittany,” I sighed, nuzzling my nose to hers. I felt her lips press against it.

“Yes, Santana?” How did my name sound so wonderful when she said it?

“What are you... what are you doing tomorrow?” God, I was so tired now. It wasn’t even like we actually did anything.

“I don’t have any plans tomorrow,” she replied, sounding sweeter than honey.

“Good,” I murmured. “Don’t make any.”

“Why’s that?” she asked, tucking her arm around me and pulling me closer. I had to pause to think of why. What did I just ask her? Plans... Oh, yeah. I wanted to do this every day. Not freak out about making out, but like... cancel work and spend time with her. Luckily, I didn’t work until the evening tomorrow, so if I planned it right, I could get her out of the apartment and away from Quinn and Rachel and work and school. We’d have like... a play date. 

“You’ll... find out... tomorrow,” I yawned. Maybe not even a play date. I could take her on a real date.

She giggled, and nudged me gently. “Tell me.”

I shook my head as best I could. I was going to take her somewhere amazing. If I was going to take her out somewhere, it had to be perfect. Where could I take her that would be perfect? She liked...God, I didn’t actually know what sort of stuff Brittany liked. She said she liked ducks. And she had a rainbow... oh, no, he was purple. She had a purple unicorn thing. I had no idea what relation those two things could have. What else was there?

Wait, was I planning a date?

Oh, who fucking cares. I want to take you out on a date, Brittany. 

Did I say that out loud? 

“Britt...?” I whispered. I should ask her where she wants to go on our date. Does she know it’s a date. Maybe that should be a surprise. She did hear me, right? 

“Yeah?”

“Just making... sure you were still here,” I mumbled. She pressed her lips to my forehead, and I melted.

“I’m not going anywhere.”