TITLE: I Forgot To Say Out Loud (How Beautiful You Really Are)

AUTHOR: Misty

GENRE: Glee

Pairing: Brittany/Santana

Teaser: Even with show choir, Santana's life chessboard is still perfectly poised for a checkmate. Her only misstep is Brittany.

Spoilers: Through sectionals.

Word Count: 2800

Rating: R

For the Glee Fic Battle, Prompt: Brittany/Santana, Santana reprimanding Brittany for slipping about their "Non-Dating activities"

Notes: In the midst of writing WMC and battling a monster headache, decided to take a break and write something quick and sweet.


I always say how I don't need you
But it's always gonna come right back to this

P!NK

If it weren't for the gay thing, Santana thinks her life would be pretty damn perfect.

Why wouldn't it be? She may not be the token queen blonde, and she may not have the money, but she's got the looks, the moves and the smarts to maneuver through this whole high school hierarchy with hardly a scratch on her manicured nails.

Santana does not do things impulsively. She's a wiz at chess. Of course she tells no one, but she likes it, because strategy is the key to success in every aspect of life. Her life is open before her like a checkered chess board, and every choice, every movement is carefully considered before actually carried out. She knows when to follow, and she knows when not to.

She wrangles an invitation to the Cheerios with a carefully placed walk in front of Sue Sylvester's office. She befriends Quinn Fabray because she's popular. She dates Puck because he's on the football team and one of the hottest guys at school. She joins Glee and the Chastity Club (which she privately thinks is utterly ridiculous) because Quinn wants to. She dumps Puck when the football team keeps losing and it's clear he's not going anywhere (but keeps him around for the occasional hook up). When the Chastity Queen has the idiocy to get herself knocked up, she waits until things are quiet and makes a private tip to Jewfro.

Quinn's fall from grace (and ever widening baby load) gives her 'head bitch in charge' status with the Cheerios, enough clout to keep her slushie free even when she elects to use the excuse to be Sue's mole to stay in Glee.

Even with show choir, Santana's life chessboard is still perfectly poised for a checkmate.

Her only misstep is Brittany.

Santana isn't naïve enough to think she's a good person. Powerful people don't bother themselves with what's good or not – she's seen enough to know that if you get enough accomplished, if you become somebody, you don't have to worry about what's nice or what isn't. When Quinn draws pornographic pictures of Rachel Berry, Santana tells herself it's because Manhands asks for it – she's annoying and grating and has zero self awareness, and a necessary pawn on Santana's chessboard.

Brittany…

Brittany is just different. Santana has tried to tell Brittany's parents that she has dyslexia, with maybe a side of ADHD (because seriously, trying to get Brittany to focus on something other than dancing or singing is like pulling teeth), and they should get her tested.

They just tell her those things don't actually exist and are just 'excuses'. She's stopped trying to convince them and instead focuses on helping Brittany when she can. Brittany defies logic (because she has none). She can't reason. But what she CAN do is be loyal. And her loyalty is and always will be to Santana.

What won that loyalty was Santana's willingness to protect her, never lose her patience, and never make fun of Brittany when she reads the words wrong because they've switched in her head, or when she can't tell her right from her left or when she loses a damn wheelchair.

Santana needs a loyal minion. She knows how important it is to have followers if you're a leader and Brittany is her plucky right hand girl. On Santana's chess board, Brittany is a pawn, and Santana is her queen.

Except Brittany is also gorgeous, moves with an ease that feels like porn to Santana, and Santana is kinda gay.

She's known since she was a kid. She's also known that 'dyke' hasn't become chic like in LA or New York in a stupid small town like Lima. Her mom crosses herself and complains about 'the gays' perverting marriage and gay boy Kurt gets dumped into a dumpster every day, and Rachel Barry gets slushied because her dads are gay and she's proud of it.

Wanting to fuck girls has no place in Lima, and since Santana likes cock okay anyway (not nearly as amazing as half the Cheerios say it is, but whatever), she keeps it to herself.

Except for Brittany. Santana has a life plan and she has a chessboard but she's also a teenager and while she tells herself Brittany is a pawn, she also knows that Brittany DOES something to her that she shouldn't – with her gorgeous body and precious smile and naïve sweetness.

She has a hold of Santana in a way that no one else does. Santana knows it's stupid not to admit it, but selfishly, she ignores it.

When she kisses her, it just happens. On Santana's bed, high off the success of the first Glee Club invitational and the stolen liquor they've taken from Santana's mother's liquor cabinet, Santana pulls Brittany down on top of her and they're exchanging deep, hungry kisses. Brittany, for once, doesn't seem confused. She presses her thigh between Santana's legs and grinds down, swallowing Santana's aroused cry into her mouth and gripping Santana's neck with a strength and certainty that overwhelms her.

When Santana comes, it's from dry humping her best friend on her bed. It's first time she's ever come with another person, and it's like being on a speeding train. Her heart pumps wildly with adrenaline, and her hips twist and buck, and she grips Brittany to her like she needs her. Brittany rolls with her. They're fit together tightly, and no matter what Santana does, Brittany is right there with her.

She feels breasts and the ache between her legs is terrifying, because it's completely out of her control, and she can't stop it, and when Brittany moans, stops kissing her to drop her forehead into the crook of Santana's shoulder, wrap an arm around her shoulder, and surge forward against her, it feels so fucking good Santana comes apart.


It's a mistake, but she manages. She has a textbook gay panic and calls Puck. She takes advantage of both Brittany's loyalty to her and her dimness and tells her that it's just sex and to keep it quiet.

It's stupid, because Santana has a plan, and no matter what kind of lesbian cheerleader fantasy half the boys have in the school, this is Lima.

Santana never realized how much she liked to touch Brittany until she struggled so hard to keep from doing it.

So fuck it, she does it. This time at Brittany's, in Brittany's room. They're trying on outfits one minute and the next she's got Brittany pressed up against her closet door. Brittany's arms are trapped because she's was in the middle of shrugging off a button down, and it's perfect, because Santana has been doing nothing but staring at Brittany's chest all day and she really really wants to suck on Brittany's nipples.

This time they actually do it. They actually HAVE sex. There's clothes shed, and Brittany goes inside of her, fills her with two fingers in a way that feels SO much more satisfying than it does when Puck's cock is inside of her.

The kisses are wet and frantic, and Santana licks and tastes every part of Brittany.

There is nothing, NOTHING more amazing than when she dips her head between Brittany's legs, smells pungent wetness and then licks and sucks at Brittany's pussy until Brittany comes.

It's fucking orgasmic, and Santana doesn't even care how gay it is.

Until it's over, when they're plastered against each other and Brittany tells her she loves her.

It scares the crap out of her. She tells Brittany that's its just sex, not dating. To keep it to herself.

There's stalled quiet. Santana can't help herself.

"I love you too," she tells Brittany, but adds an acerbic, "But as FRIENDS, okay?"

Brittany smiles at her, that beautiful smile that spreads warmth throughout Santana's already boneless body.


When Brittany slips and tells Kurt, Tina, Artie and Mercedes that she and Santana are sleeping together, Santana has a mental image of her chessboard being flung lopsided, her carefully strategized chess pieces going in every direction, her life plan in shambles.

Santana closes her phone. Her face is burning, her heart is pounding, but her expression is carefully closed.

Beside her, Brittany shifts and her sneakers squeak on the tile, preparing to apologize.

"Santana-"

"Save it," she snaps, and moves forward, away from Brittany and the whole clusterfuck she may or may not have created by fucking OUTING her to half the damn Glee club.

If she looks back, she knows she'll see Brittany staring at her, close to tears, looking like a wounded animal in a Disney cartoon.

Santana knows she won't stay mad at her if she sees that.

She doesn't look back.


She's SO pissed. So damn pissed that it doesn't matter if she's hurting Brittany's feelings by ignoring her.

Santana has a PLAN, and Brittany has gone and fucked it all up, because if Mercedes told everyone about Puck and Quinn, then whose gonna stop her from telling the entire school about Santana?

Santana's mental chessboard is set up precariously, and Brittany is her pawn. The sensible thing to do is to sacrifice the pawn to ensure the safety of the King. Let the pawn become the liability.

It may not be the GOOD thing to do, but it's the smart thing to do.

She finds Brittany staring mournfully at her locker, fiddling half heartedly with the lock. Santana ignores the way Brittany's face lights up at the sight of her, and instead strides with purpose.

"Listen," she tells her, low and under her breath. "Even if it weren't dating, WE wouldn't be. Do you get that? Because I'm not gay. And I wouldn't date you. Got it?"

It's cruel and nothing like she's ever told Brittany. Brittany's smile freezes, then fades away completely. Instead of responding, Brittany instead turns her attention back to her locker. "I forgot-"

"I don't care if you forgot-"

"-my locker combination." Brittany finishes. Her tone is low and defeated and it touches Santana in a place where she doesn't want it to.

With a muted grimace, she leans forward and quickly shoulders Brittany out of the way, rolling the dial and popping the lock.

"Thanks," Brittany says, without looking at her, and without actually grabbing anything, she walks off.


Santana stays away from Brittany for the rest of the week. It's supposed to be Brittany's punishment for being so careless, and damage control for the Glee dorks.

She thinks it'll be challenging to avoid Brittany, but the truth is Brittany doesn't make an iota of effort to try to be around her. Of course Brittany is a human bunny rabbit, and as dim as she is, she doesn't lack for friends because she is completely indiscriminate in who she actually talks to.

The result is some sort of backfire.

Santana has the entire school in fear of her, but she's completely aware that very few people actually LIKE her. Strangely, that never mattered before, when Brittany was at her side, always being inappropriately sweet and clutching her arm and playing with her hair.

She feels it now. She feels almost LONELY, and it's ridiculous, but it throws her off her game. Her carefully constructed strategy now seems shaky and unreliable.

Bringing down Glee Club has always been a chess play waiting to happen. It's unfortunate, because she actually LIKES Glee Club. She likes Mr. Shue. She likes singing. She likes the way it lights up Brittany's face when they perform. She even likes the Glee kids, from diva fag Kurt to loudmouth Mercedes and even arrogant Rachel, who looks AMAZING when she sings.

Still, destroying Glee club is a necessary move to remain Sue Sylvester's new pet - which would lead to college scholarships and face time on ESPN during the national championships.

Instead of actually doing that, she avoids Sue Sylvester like the plague, ducking down hallways and bolting out of the Cheerios Locker Room the second she hears Sue's thundering voice.

Had Brittany not been avoiding her, she would have probably been able to keep her from Sue Sylvester too.


At Sectionals they're standing together, sudden pariahs to their own peers because Quinn blabs and tells them all that they were Sue's moles.

It feels weird, to be glared at like this. Brittany looks small and scared beside her, and even if they're technically not speaking, Santana stands up for both of them. She swears that neither of them leaked the set list, but Brittany quietly stutters that she did.

Brittany leaked the set list.

She didn't mean to. Sue Sylvester cornered her and demanded it, and sweet, dim Brittany would never imagine that Sue would have gone so far as to seek out the other schools and let them have it.

Santana feels a swell of horror sweep over her, and without thinking she moves away from Brittany, keeping the focus on her as she talks her way out of it.

Rachel listens to her, tells her quietly she believes her, and Santana's grateful smile is actually sincere. Her eyes slide to Brittany, who has sunk down beside Mike, looking devastated and guilty.

The anger Santana feels flames her cheeks and makes her fingers curl, because Brittany has just been used as a pawn in Sue Sylvester's stupid plan, and Brittany will never JUST be a pawn to anyone.

It's an epiphany she would rather not have in a Green Room surrounded by Gleeks when they're an hour away from showtime with nothing prepared.


Twenty minutes before Rachel is due to take the stage, with a cobbled together routine in her head, Santana latches onto Brittany's hand and pulls her into the private handicapped bathroom.

Brittany's expression is unreadable. She snatches her hand back as soon as Santana flips the lock.

"What?" she asks, colored eyes sliding to the closed door. "Aren't you afraid people will think we're doing stuff in here?"

Santana opens her mouth, ready to snap, and catches herself, closing it again. She crosses her arms, takes a breath, and tries again. "I'm sorry."

Brittany's expression is confused – which is nothing new for anyone else, but not for Santana. When it comes to Santana, Brittany has always seemed so sure of herself.

Santana never realized how much she liked that.

"Why?"

"Because I let you down." Santana feels a rumble of irritation creep up her spine. "I got so sucked into this stupid damage control that I left you to fend for yourself and Sue got to you-"

Brittany snorts, eyes flashing. "I can take care of myself. I don't need you."

"Well maybe I need you." She spits the words out before she can help herself. Brittany's eyes go even rounder, and Santana feels the tell-tale swell of panic inside of her before she deliberately taps it down. She wants to take it back – her chess board in her minds' eye teeters on its pedestal. Unable to trust herself that she won't, she keeps her mouth shut.

Except she seems to have broken Brittany, who just stares at her like she's a trig problem, or a Spanish conjunction, and Santana finally exhales through her nose and mutters, "I like chess."

"You… like chess?"

"I like chess," she snaps, a little too defensively. "And see – there's this strategy in chess."

"I know," Brittany says. "Rooks and pawns and kings and queens." The surprise is hard to mask, and Brittany's smirk is a proud one.

"Right," she manages. "And I have this life strategy. And in that strategy – I can't be gay."

"Oh." Brittany looks down at her feet, and Santana curses silently.

"You know what sucks about chess?" she blurts, feeling like an idiot. "You sacrifice everyone around you to save the King. And then the King is alone. And that'd be okay, except that would mean being without you."

Brittany's expression becomes unreadable, but she's very very still.

"So to hell with it," Santana mutters, and gives up on explanations. "Can I kiss you please?"

She doesn't wait for Brittany's confirmation. Instead she lunges forward and presses her lips against Brittany's.

Brittany's mouth opens immediately, tongue dancing forward to swipe against Santana and GOD, Santana is so gay.

She whimpers when Brittany takes control, hands tipping up her chin, pushing forward until they collide against the door.

Brittany's mouth is pressing kisses along the arch of her neck and her hand is slipping underneath Brittany's underwear when Artie knocks on the door.

Santana shouts at his handicapped ass to hold it.


When they win sectionals, Santana is nearly thrown off her feet by a bear hug from Mike and nearly tips into Artie's wheel chair.

She swings around, and catches view of a flurry of blonde hair before Brittany launches herself into her arms.

She's laughing, and her heart is ready to burst. When Brittany forgets herself and presses a kiss against her lips, Santana freezes. Brittany jerks away, eyes round and wide and full of apology.

Santana can't help but hold tighter, and offer Brittany a reassuring smile that puts such a joyous expression on Brittany's face that Santana's pretty sure she just saw heaven.

It's not on her chessboard strategy, but Santana figures that even with the gay thing, this feels pretty damn perfect.

FIN