Author's Note: *hides face* Hi, guys. It's been a while. I don't have anything to say. It's almost 7,000 words. I hope you'll forgive me.

Happy Reading xoxo

"Santana," Brittany hissed as her hands rested helplessly against Santana's shoulders. She was quickly losing herself in the sensation of soft lips traveling the length of her neck.

"We can't keep-fuck- doing this. We're going to get caught and-mmph"

Santana interrupted Brittany's protests with a firm kiss. She swept her tongue across Brittany's lips and smirked into the kiss when she felt Brittany's own peek out to lick back at her.

Brittany always resisted her increasingly frequent surprise make out sessions, but in the end, she always ended up giving into the thing Santana's attentions were making her feel.

Soon enough pale hands found their way into tousled waves and tugged, dragging Santana closer as she deepened the kiss.

"Brittany, I want to get out of here," Santana whined as she pulled away from Brittany's lips with a satisfying smack.

"I'm all about spontaneity, but there's only so many times I can be down with pulling you into a supply closet."

Things between them had been going this way ever since that part 2 weeks prior. Practice would go on as usual and Santana was the model cheerleader; helping her team and making a conscious effort not to let her touches linger too long on Brittany's arm or let her eyes wander too freely across glistening tanned skin.

She was doing a pretty decent job, aside from that day Brittany had shown up to practice in a loose midriff tank top and a pair of black shorts that looked more like glorified spanx to Santana.

Quinn had had to smack her more than once for staring and the sharp sting and smug, knowing look that settled on Quinn's face every time had almost been worth it when Brittany had dropped into the splits and started bouncing.

"Santana," Brittany huffed, pushing at Santana's hips. "Santana! Stop!"

Brittany gazed into confused brown eyes and sighed. What they'd been doing had been eating away at her and every time she encouraged it, she felt totally guilty after the fact.

"What is it?" Santana prodded hesitantly. The conflicted look on Brittany's face was worrying her.

"I can't do this. I mean, I really can't. Not anymore..."

Santana's stomach dropped and she blinked at Brittany for a few seconds as her words sunk in.

Brittany leaned in and pressed her lips to Santana's cheek, squeezing her hip gently before pulling back again.

"I'll see you at practice, okay?"

"So she just left?" Quinn scoffed as she gathered her things together in the locker room. Santana was slouched against her locker waiting for her, and she nodded tiredly.

"Yeah, one minute I had my hands up her-"

"Spare me the details, Lopez," Quinn interrupted, and Santana smirked at her, regaining some of her usual swagger.

"I'm sorry, baby," she whined, moving in closer.

"I know how jealous you can be sometimes," Santana finished, tapping Quinn lightly on the nose.

"Don't flatter yourself. I'd just rather know as little about your Sapphic trysts as possible. I don't need the mental image."

"It's a pretty awesome mental image, Q."

"Bite me."

"Only if you ask nicely," Santana easily countered as Quinn rolled her eyes and shouldered her duffle, motioning for them to head out.

When they exited the school, Santana stopped short as her eyes scanned over the mostly empty parking lot, coming to rest on a car a little off to the right.

Quinn stopped with her, following Santana's line of sight and seeing Brittany hunched over the wheel of her car.

Santana turned to Quinn, searching for an excuse to ditch their after school plans, but Quinn was always a step ahead and before she could formulate the bullshit excuse Quinn preempted her.

"You should go see what's up with her. I know you want to. I'll call you later, okay?" she smirked before happily bouncing away towards her car, but not without a knowing backwards glance just in time to see Santana shake her head and flip her off.

Brittany was so screwed. She'd come out of the school to find one of her tires completely flattened and she was certainly regretting never learning to put on the spare she drove around in her trunk.

Tina had told her a million times to have someone teach her, but Brittany had never seen the point since there were like…garages and other people who did that silly stuff for you.

When she'd called the Hummels (the only one in Lima), she'd been met with a voicemail explaining an "unexpected closure due to a surprise congressional debate." She wasn't sure what that meant, other than they wouldn't be able to come and tow her car until the next day.

There was a light rapping on her window and she jumped, the heel of her hand pressing into the horn accidentally, causing the person outside the car to drop their bag.

Brittany blushed and smiled sheepishly as she rolled down her tinted windows to be met with the questioning face of Santana Lopez.

She wanted to groan because, hello, the last she'd seen the girl was in a closet 20 minutes prior, but she held it in and offered a polite smile. Brittany wanted to put some distance between them, but she could never be rude.

"Why are you just sitting in your car?" Santana asked, not bothering to beat around the bush; she was still a little upset at Brittany if she were honest.

Brittany sighed and mumbled out something about car trouble and her eyes nearly bulged out of their sockets when Santana offered to drive her home.

"I don't think that's such a good idea, do you?" she asked tentatively, finally looking up to meet Santana's gaze.

Brittany was surprised to see genuine concern there and she softened. "It's okay, I'll just call Tina. She can be here in a couple hours after her classes."

Santana rolled her eyes and scoffed, hand already on the door handle and yanking it open.

"Britt, please. I'll have you home by then. It's just a ride. I'm not going to jump you, okay?" Santana teased and Brittany had no choice but to smile and nod because, yeah, 2 hours was a long time to sit and wait for someone.

After making sure to lock her car, she headed over towards where she saw Santana already perched in the driver's seat.

Brittany opened the passenger's side door timidly and slid in with only a quiet, "Thanks."

Santana laughed at Brittany's sudden shift in demeanor and pushed her shades up her nose as she started the engine.

"Just one thing, though. I have to shower and I'm starved so we're stopping at my house for a bit. Cool? K. Good," she rushed, pulling out of the parking lot before Brittany had any chance to protest.

Brittany sighed heavily as she heard the distant sounds of the shower turning on from upstairs. It felt weird being in Santana's house, but what other choice did she have?

She knew she had to be breaking some kind of law against student/teacher relationships or something because she felt dirty.

Though that could possibly be because Brittany was forced to actively reroute her train of thought every time she remembered that Santana was merely feet above her, naked with water cascading all over her-see?

She collapsed on the couch with a huff and flicked on the TV to try and distract herself from the increasingly inappropriate images filtering through her mind.

It didn't help matters that it had only been about an hour or two since those soft, pouty lips had been attached to her neck as gentle fingers trailed up the inside of her thigh.

No, that was not helping matters at all.

Deciding that she just couldn't stand to sit still any longer, she hopped up again and made her way through the den and into the kitchen.

She took the opportunity to really look around as she opened cabinets all over, searching for a plate or a bowl to load up with the stir fry Santana had made before heading upstairs.

Brittany had never seen such an extravagant kitchen in a normal house before; only on TV on those cooking shows that Lauren insisted they watch most nights.

As her fingers trailed along the polished marble counters, she noticed the fridge was covered in little post-its.

Slowly she approached, giving up her search for a dish for the moment to scan over the, obviously hastily scribbled, notes.

Some of them were faded and yellowing, while others still retained some of their original neon brightness. Anyone could have seen that they'd all been written some time ago and it saddened her as she thought back to the indifferent nonchalance Santana's parents had exuded before rushing out earlier.

They'd been a frantic blur of white coats and coffee mugs when Santana had opened the door. The sheer awe in her voice as she greeted them let Brittany know that she didn't' see them home this early (or at all) very often.

She'd immediately launched into a detailed regaling of how Glee club had qualified for Nationals again along with Cheerios and her parents had shown limited interest as they hustled out to their cars with a hurried "That's nice, honey."

Santana had deflated completely as the door slammed behind them and had gone about making their dinner in silence before mumbling something about "taking that shower, now," and quickly exiting the room.

Her eyes wandered carefully over each one, taking in the many promises of dinners "tomorrow" and reminders to "clean up" this and that.

It hurt her feelings to think of Santana all alone in this house all the time, but she also knew that it wasn't her place to care.

At least that's what she'd been trying to tell herself lately.

Just to the left of the refrigerator door handle and plainly in the line of sight, there was a photo of Santana wearing a dress and a pair of sky high heels (an outfit that had Brittany's cheeks flushing) and hanging sloppily onto, what looked to be, Quinn Fabray.

It was obvious that both girls were very drunk and Brittany's brows furrowed as she tried to determine why such an obviously questionable picture was up on the fridge in plain sight.

She stared at it a bit longer, studying the dazed, glazed over look in Santana's eyes (and maybe checking out the …*Ahem* neckline of the dress) before she noticed that there was a corner sticking out from underneath the picture.

Glancing over her shoulder, she quickly removed the magnet holding the photo in place and smiled when she uncovered a much older one of Santana standing in front of the pool with a pair of pink butterfly water wings wrapped around her arms.

The sun was shining in the background and Santana was grinning madly at the camera. She was missing a few teeth and her hair was frizzy and wild.

Brittany decided that she couldn't have been older than 8 when the picture was taken, and she could clearly see the silhouette of Santana's dad in front of a grill behind her. She looked so happy and care free and Brittany ran the tips of her fingers over the smiling Santana reverently.

She'd been so caught up in her "exploring" that she hadn't heard the shower stop and when the stairs creaked loudly as Santana descended, Brittany panicked.

She tried to put the pictures back, she really did, but in her haste she ended up dropping the magnet with a loud clatter.

Naturally Santana appeared in the doorway, arms folded across her chest as Brittany grappled clumsily with the photos, finally managing to secure them back into place.

"What are you doing?" Santana asked, leaning against the doorframe and raising an eyebrow at Brittany.

Brittany cleared her throat awkwardly, chewing on a fingernail before looking up to meet Santana's eyes.

"I was…uh…just-"

"Snooping?" Santana chuckled as Brittany's cheeks tinged pink. She pushed off from the wall and walked over to stand next to Brittany, tilting her head to the side as she straightened out the photos.

Santana smelled like something smooth and sweet, like vanilla or honey; maybe both. Brittany wasn't sure, but she breathed in deeply as the scent wafted over her.

She stood frozen in her place next to Santana as she opened the fridge and pulled out two bottles of water, hip checking the door and turning to face her.

"You thirsty?" Santana offered casually, holding the bottle in Brittany's direction. Brittany shook her head, but Santana thrust the drink into her hands anyway.

"Did you eat yet?" she tossed over her shoulder, moving over to the only cabinet Brittany hadn't checked, and pulling down two shallow bowls.

When she lifted the lid, she laughed dryly. "So you didn't eat. Well, then you'll need the water. Trust me."

Brittany nodded weakly, trying to muster the strength to shake herself out of her stupor. Santana hummed lightly as she went about loading up the dishes with food.

After she'd split the pan between the two of them, she popped both bowls into the microwave to reheat for a few minutes.

When she began cleaning up the pans and utensils she'd dirtied, Brittany took the time to really look at Santana.

Her hair was still damp from her shower and falling in wavy tendrils around her face. She had on no makeup, but her skin was still glowing.

Brittany eyes raked over Santana's body hungrily, taking in the too big, long sleeved t-shirt and the short cheer shorts she'd thrown on. She could tell that this is what Santana wore when she was just relaxing, but the ensemble was surprisingly sexy to Brittany.

"Hate to interrupt, but I'm pretty sure if you keep looking at me like that I'm going to end up pregnant or something…"

Santana was facing away from Brittany, at the sink washing dishes, but she could feel her eyes on her, roaming up and down her bare legs and lingering somewhere near her ass.

Her heart beat sporadically in her chest as it suddenly dawned on her that she was in her house, alone, with Brittany.

The microwave bell chimed, and Santana opened the door, reaching for the oven mitt to take out the food. She pulled opened a drawer and brought out two forks and a pair of tongs and set them on the counter.

Santana shook her head to collect herself, smirk slipping into place as she turned around to meet embarrassed blue eyes.

"Careful! Wait, take this. The bowls are a little hot," she explained, holding up an extra cloth napkin as she passed the steaming dish across the island.

Brittany leaned forward, grabbing the bowl of stir fry gratefully, and examined the concoction skeptically.

She'd always been a bit of a picky eater and she could name about 5 things in that bowl that would never make it in her mouth on a normal day.

"Thanks," she muttered, still eyeing the colorful mix of veggies and chicken in her hands with uncertainty.

"No problem," Santana replied, turning back towards the cabinets and dragging down a large plastic bowl. "I'm just gonna toss up a salad really quickly. You can go sit in the living room, if you want…"

She cocked her head in the direction of the doorway with a smile, and Brittany silently made her way back towards the sounds of the TV.

Santana wasn't sure how long they'd been sitting on the couch like they were, but it felt like an eternity.

After she'd come in, wielding two plates of a simple garden salad in one hand and her bowl of stir fry in the other, water bottle tucked safely under her arm, things had been a little…tense.

Brittany had chosen to sit in the armchair off to the side of the room rather than on the couch and Santana hadn't been able to hold in her giggle as she set the salad on the coffee table (in front of the couch), plopped down in one of the corners comfortably, and raised an eyebrow at Brittany as she dug into her dinner.

It had taken 2 commercial breaks for Brittany to finally give in and join her on the couch. She'd held her breath as she'd settled into the opposite corner, as from Santana as possible, and when she'd chanced a glance over at her she'd noticed that Santana had been hardly concerned about it.

Relaxing a bit, Brittany had tried to get into whatever movie was playing, taking small bites of the surprisingly delicious meal Santana had prepared, but as soon as she'd let her guard down, Santana was scooting closer under the guise of reaching for the remote.

Brittany had silently cursed herself for leaving the thing on the end table next to the couch when she'd been in the room earlier.

When Santana had leaned completely across her body, hair tickling Brittany's cheeks as she picked up the remote, she hadn't gone back to her original spot, opting instead to remain barely pressed against Brittany's side, and that's how'd they'd been for at least an hour.

It wasn't comfortable as both women were sitting stiffly, both painfully aware of their own space and where their own space became shared space. They'd both finished eating ages ago, and finally fed up with the silence, Santana turned to face Brittany.

In the new position, one leg tucked under her as the other dangled loosely off the couch, she could easily watch Brittany's reactions as she tentatively reached over and placed a hand on Brittany's thigh.

There was nothing sexual about the gesture, but Santana still heard Brittany's breath hitch and it encouraged her.

"Hey, you know you can like…talk to me, right? I mean, you've been mute for about 30 minutes now," Santana laughed, internally cheering at the small smile that crept onto Brittany's face.

"Yeah, I know. I just…didn't know what to say. I'm sorry about earlier with your par-"

"Don't." The word was dripping with finality and Brittany promptly shut her mouth, turning her attention briefly back to the TV in time to see the preview for the movie starting next.

Eager to lighten the mood, she turned back to Santana and smiled genuinely.

"I love this movie! I know you're supposed to take me home and I totally shouldn't be here in the first place, but can we watch it?" Brittany gushed, momentarily forgetting about the hand on her thigh until the grip tightened as Santana glanced at the screen to see what had gotten Brittany so excited.

"You're kidding right? No way. Absolutely not," Santana rambled, shaking her head furiously in disapproval.

Brittany sighed and when Santana looked back she was met with the most pitiful pouting face she'd ever seen. Brittany's eyes were sullen and her lower lip jutted out adorably as she batted her eyes at Santana.

"Come onnn…" she pleaded, resting her hand on top of Santana's own on her thigh and squeezing.

Just as Santana was about to cave, the image on the TV caught her attention again. A very creepy looking, very bloody Megan Fox was coming towards her and just like that she was back to square one.

"No. Uh Uh. Not gonna happ-"

Brittany pressed a finger to Santana's lips distractedly, effectively cutting her off mid-rant.

"Shh. Movie's starting."

Santana gaped at her for about 3 seconds, thrown off by the feeling of Brittany's finger on her lips before she realized that Brittany was completely ignoring her now.

"No! I'm serious, Britt! Go put on your shoes; I'm driving you home now. I mean it!"

30 minutes later…

Brittany couldn't help but giggle as she watched Santana squirm, staring at the screen with rapt attention through the fingers covering her eyes.

"Santana, this isn't even scary. I mean, come onnn. The only reason people watch this is because Megan Fox is like…super sexy." The indignant scoff she received in reply had Brittany giggling all over again.

"What do you mean, 'It's not scary,' huh? She is eating people, Brittany! And not even in the fun way!" Santana squealed while, yet again, covering her eyes and burrowing her face into Brittany's shoulder.

A few minutes into the movie, Brittany had shifted so that her back was leaning against the arm of the sofa while her legs draped over the middle cushion, covered by a blanket she'd pulled off the back of the couch.

Santana had huffed angrily when Brittany planted herself and started watching despite her protests, and had shuffled back to the far end stubbornly.

Every so often Brittany had taken to poking Santana with her toes whenever something particularly gruesome came on screen and Santana had literally sat on her feet to keep her still.

Brittany had noticed Santana shivering and going against her better judgment, she'd wiggled her toes beneath her to get her attention and smiled.

Santana had raised her eyebrows in a silent question even as she rubbed briskly at her bare calves for warmth. Brittany had lifted the edge of the blanket and scooted out towards the edge of the cushions, opening up a sliver of space between herself and the back of the sofa for Santana to crawl into.

Her heart had beat faster and faster in the seconds it took Santana to consider the offer. She'd hesitated more out of instinct than out of any real trepidation about being close to Brittany like that.

She'd easily been able to see that she'd have to press into Brittany's side to find a comfortable position and as Megan Fox had appeared in front of Amanda Seyfried, covered in blood and grinning maniacally, Santana, with a little squeak, had practically dived into the spot, instantly cuddling into the nook beneath Brittany's arm.

Somewhere along the way, they'd slid further and further down on the couch until they were both lying against a few throw pillows, Santana's head on Brittany's chest and Brittany's arm looped around Santana's back.

Her fingers had been tracing idle patterns across Santana's shirt without any conscious thought, and every so often Santana would hum contentedly and snuggle just that little bit closer.

It felt nice to be near each other that way, without the pressure of sex behind the proximity. Brittany was enjoying the way she fisted her tank top and nuzzled into her neck whenever there was a sudden bang or rise in the score.

Santana was absolutely adorable like this.

Brittany could tell that her guard was down and that this was the real Santana.

She had no doubts that the seductress side of her personality was a big part of her, but the cutely terrified thing currently wrapping her arms around Brittany's waist and pulling her closer was pretty amazing too.

"You're so adorable."

Santana stiffened against Brittany and Brittany mentally smacked herself for her slip up. She hadn't meant to say it out loud.

The room was silent apart from their uneasy breaths and the droning of the TV as Santana lifted her head from Brittany's neck to look into her eyes.

Neither of them spoke for a moment and Brittany tried to ignore the way Santana's eyes flickered down to her lips.

"Thanks," Santana breathed, smiling shyly before lying back down against her. She was a little surprised by Brittany's compliment, but the blush still coloring her cheeks was evidence that the attention was very much welcome.

She wasn't really paying much mind to the movie at this point, content to just lie in Brittany's arms and listen to her heartbeat, but when she felt Brittany's pulse speeding up and her skin warmed beneath her cheek, Santana focused her attention back to the screen just in time to see Megan Fox closing the distance between herself and Amanda Seyfried.

The kiss was hot and sensual and of course Santana had seen it before, but, not being one for scary movies, she'd forgotten all about it.

Brittany was too entranced by the kiss to notice the way Santana was looking at her. The sight of the two women kissing passionately on the bed combined with the weight of Santana's body pressed against her own in all the right places was flustering.

"Britt," Santana whispered, biting her lip nervously as Brittany's eyes found hers instantly at the timid tone of her voice.

"Yeah?" she asked, reaching up to run her fingers through Santana's hair without really thinking about it. It just felt right, so she did it.

Santana ducked her head, suddenly shy as Brittany's fingers continued carding gently through her hair.

"What is it?" Brittany prodded, tilting her head to the side as she searched out Santana's eyes; arousal momentarily forgotten.

"I just…I'm glad you're here and I know you said…but I want…I want to..."

Brittany didn't have a chance to speak before soft, warm lips were pressed hesitantly against her own. It wasn't a very long kiss, or anything like the kisses they'd shared in the past, but she felt it everywhere.

Her skin was tingling as Santana slid a hand up to curve around the back of neck while the other rested securely on her hip. She wasn't holding herself up anymore and Brittany moaned quietly, releasing a puff of air against Santana's lips at the feel of her breasts pressing into her.

Their mouths moved together slowly again, learning each other in a way that neither had ever dared to admit they'd wanted.

Brittany tightened her fingers in Santana's hair, rolling her over until she could hover above her, never breaking the kiss.

Santana wrapped her arms around Brittany's back, pulling her down until she was pressed all along the length of her body.

"Wait…wait…" Brittany rushed, pressing her forehead against Santana's and supporting herself with both hands on either side of Santana's head.

"I don't know if …I can't do this, Santana. I really want to like…super bad right now, but…I-"

Santana leaned up and kissed Brittany hard. Her hand wound its way around Brittany's body to cradle her cheek gently.

She kissed her like she wanted to kiss her for the rest of her life. She kissed her like she mattered and like this was more than just a hookup.

Santana took a deep breath, preparing herself for the moment of vulnerability she was steering herself into.

"Stop thinking. Just…" she sighed heavily, struggling to find the words to say what she knew Brittany needed to hear.

"Just feel, okay? Just feel me holding you..." Santana's arms tightened around Brittany's waist, keeping their bodies flush.

"Feel me…touching you."

Brittany's breathing staggered as Santana's fingers slipped into the sides of her tank top, caressing her skin. Her voice dropped to barely above a whisper as she continued.

"Feel me…" she paused and Brittany met her gaze head on as brown eyes searched for any signs of resistance. When she found none, Santana leaned up as she licked her lips once.

"Kissing you."

In that moment, it was like something snapped inside of Brittany and suddenly she was frantic.

The instant she felt those soft, supple lips moving in tandem with her own, something blossomed within her and hands worked on auto pilot as they tugged roughly at the few layers of clothing separating her from the writhing body beneath her.

Santana pulled away from Brittany's lips to gasp, fingers tangling in blonde hair as Brittany's mouth worked the length of her neck.

She was a panting mess as Brittany's hands grabbed at her shirt and shorts angrily, seemingly torn between pausing to remove them properly and working around them.

"Brittany…just…I need," she whined, feeling Brittany's tongue licking across her bare shoulder.

She had managed to pull down one sleeve and her bra strap, exposing a good portion of her collarbone and the top of her right breast.

"Santana you are so…so fucking…"

Brittany couldn't even find the words as her mind swam as eyes took in the amount of smooth, caramel skin bared to her in the dim light of the TV.

She bit down on the spot where Santana's neck met her shoulder, eliciting a squeal of surprise and pleasure from Santana as her hips bucked up against the thigh that had slipped between her legs.

Almost as if the movement had just reminded her that she was paying all her attention above the waist, Brittany's hand instantly returned to its previous place fighting to pull down Santana's shorts.

Her left hand yanked Santana's shirt further down her body and Brittany's lips immediately trailed wet kisses down her chest until they wrapped around an already hardened nipple.

She sucked hard and as Santana's moans escalated, Brittany gave up on removing her clothes and slid her hand inside Santana's shorts in one smooth motion.

Brittany moaned at the liquid heat coating her fingertips as she teased them through Santana's swollen folds.

"You're so wet," she gasped before crashing their lips back together, passion renewed when she was met with the evidence of just how much Santana wanted her.

Brittany curled her tongue into Santana's mouth, greedily tasting her as she slid a finger into her tightness.

"Mmmph. Oh," Santana groaned pulling her lips from Brittany's for a moment to suck in a shaky breath. "Fuck, right there, Britt-."

Brittany's other hand had begun kneading roughly at her bare breast as her fingers moved in and out of her in shallow strokes.

It was hard to maneuver with the tiny shorts on and Brittany felt her wrist cramping as she increased her speed with every "Yes…God, Brittany," Santana hissed into her ear.

She was digging her nails into Brittany's scalp almost to the point of inflicting pain as Brittany kissed her neck sloppily, too preoccupied with the rhythm of her fingers to do much else.

"Oh, God, Santana. What are we doing?" Brittany groaned (more to herself than anyone else), burying her face into the sweaty skin of Santana's neck even as she pinched a nipple between her fingers, rolling it skillfully until Santana cried out.

"Ah! I don't know. I don't know. I don't know," she crooned, bucking her hips in a futile effort to increase the pressure, the friction, something.

"But whatever we're doing, I need more of it. Now," she urged breathlessly. Brittany slowly stilled her fingers, taking a moment to really look at Santana.

Her hair was splayed across the arm of the sofa and her cheeks were flushed a soft coral color. Her lips were swollen and looking more kissable than usual and Brittany didn't resist the urge to claim them again, pulling back only at the feel of Santana's quivering stomach.

Their eyes met, only for a moment, before Brittany was kissing her way down Santana's chest, between her breasts and over her abs.

Now that she could see what she was doing, her fingers deftly untied the shorts and mercilessly yanked them down Santana's shaking thighs.

Brittany's eyes widened and her mouth went dry at the sight of Santana wide open and glistening for her.

"Wow…" she whispered before an insistent whine and a tug at her hair brought her back into the moment. She didn't even wait for Santana to kick off the shorts around her ankles before she was ducking beneath them and eagerly taking her first taste of Santana.

"Oh my fuck, yesssss," Santana cursed at the feeling of Brittany's tongue moving wildly between her legs. The hand in Brittany's hair was soon joined by another as she rather forcefully pressed Brittany's mouth against her.

Brittany was getting uncomfortably turned on by the taste, the smell, the feel of Santana in her mouth. It was dizzying and the demanding hold on her hair as Santana grinded against her face had her moaning uninhibitedly which only encouraged Santana to move faster, push harder.

"I need your fingers. I just…please I need-shiiiit." Santana's eyes rolled back in her head, chest heaving as Brittany's mouth encircled her clit, sucking rhythmically as she re-entered her with two fingers.

Brittany could tell it wouldn't be too much longer and so she lifted her head to watch Santana fall apart.

Santana was rolling her hips into Brittany's thrusts, gripping onto blonde hair fiercely. When the attention to her clit stopped, she opened her mouth to protest, shutting it instantly when Brittany began to speak in a husky tone she hadn't yet been privy to.

"You're gonna come, aren't you? Do it. You look so fucking sexy, Santana. Come all over my fingers. Do it."

Brittany didn't know where the words were coming from, but watching the way Santana nodded frantically before stiffening beneath her, made her less than concerned with finding out.

Santana's face scrunched and she let out a long, gravely moan as her orgasm hit her. Hard.

Nothing more than a few squeaks escaped her as Brittany eased her down with gentle licks and slow thrusts until her body relaxed into the sofa, legs resting on Brittany's shoulders.

Now that the heat of the moment was subsiding, at least for Brittany anyways, that creeping feeling of dread was seeping into her veins.

There was a bit of an awkward moment when Brittany's head got caught on the shorts still tangled around Santana's ankles.

Santana huffed and kicked them off with an aggravated scoff, leaving her completely bare from the waist down. Brittany could only watch with wide eyes as Santana sat up unsteadily and pulled her shirt over her head and tossed it aside.

Her fingers quickly reached around and unclipped her bra as well, tossing it away carelessly, seemingly having no interest in where it landed.

Santana turned back to face Brittany, raising an eyebrow as she flopped back onto the sofa tiredly.

"What?" she asked groggily, eyes already drooping in her post orgasmic bliss. "S'hot in here."

Brittany chuckled a little nervously as Santana cuddled into the couch, clearly settling in to sleep.

She made a move to get up from where she was kneeling between Santana's spread legs, but Santana sensed her intents and locked her legs around Brittany's knees, knocking her forward and on top of her.

Santana instantly wrapped her arms around Brittany's stiff body and sighed contentedly.

"You're not moving. As soon as I gets me a nap, I'm gonna fuck you so hard," she yawned, nuzzling into Brittany's hair and dragging the blanket around them.

Brittany swallowed thickly; painstakingly aware that Santana was very sweaty and very naked beneath her.

Santana's legs were still wrapped around Brittany's and with a sigh Brittany shook off her thoughts of consequences and after and whispered unsurely, "Okay."

It was hours later when Santana cracked her eyes open against the harsh glare of the TV screen. A chill ran through her as she realized the only thing covering her naked body was the thin blanket that usually hung off the back of the sofa.

The next thing she noticed was the cold, empty space beneath her and she immediately sat up, eyes searching somewhat frantically in the darkness.

The blanket slid down to bunch around her waist as she swung her legs over the side of the couch, exposing her bare breasts to the cool air pumping from the air conditioning and, never one for modesty, she didn't bother to fix it.

Her muscles ached in the best way possible as she stood and stretched out her limbs with a satisfied groan.


The noise caught her off guard and she turned to find Brittany curled up in an armchair off to the side of the sofa, knees cradled to her chest and bottom lip tugged adorably between her teeth.

Santana smiled at her. A real smile; not the fake one she plastered on to get her through the grueling days at McKinley.

As her eyes adjusted to the dim light, she took a moment to take in Brittany's appearance. Her hair was tangled and the finer hairs framing her face were curling at her temple.

She grinned cheekily when she noticed that Brittany, though not quite on the same level, shared a similar state of undress.

Her long legs had long since been freed of the leggings she'd worn to practice that day, and Santana felt a tug somewhere in her stomach when she realized Brittany was wearing the t-shirt she'd put on earlier after her shower.

It wasn't quite as baggy on Brittany, but it still hung off of her a bit, baring an expanse of smooth, creamy skin to the flickering light.

Santana licked her lips as she briefly let her mind wander back to thoughts of how soft that shoulder had been beneath her lips and how she'd greedily savored the salty taste of Brittany's skin on her tongue.

"Santana?" Brittany's voice was timid and tired. She ran her fingers through her mussed up hair and fidgeted uncomfortably under Santana's leering.

"Mmm, sorry. What?" Santana mumbled absentmindedly. Her mind was already racing with the images of Brittany's body arching up into her and she felt the heat creep back into her skin at the thought.

Brittany seemed to realize where Santana's mind had gone because she pulled her legs tighter into her chest and tugged the t-shirt over her knees to cover them.

"I…really need to get home now, Santana," she whispered, picking nervously at a stray thread hanging off the arm of the chair.

The atmosphere between them was buzzing, not because of what they'd just done, but because the fact that Santana was standing in front of her, naked as the day she was born, was not lost on Brittany.

At all.

Santana nodded and turned her attention to the floor, searching for the rest of her discarded clothes. She crossed the room in silence, flipping the light switch on the far wall and bathing the room in a dim glow.

She pulled on her shorts and smirked a little as she spotted her bra behind the sofa.

Just as she snapped it into place, it dawned on her that Brittany was wearing her shirt.

It seemed to hit Brittan y in that moment as well because she was sitting up in the chair, gaze fixed on the ground.

"I'll just…give you this then…" she sputtered, clutching the hem of the shirt as if to lift it over her knees.

Brittany's eyes darted across the various articles of clothing scattered over the floor, blushing when she stopped on a black satin thong hanging precariously off the edge of the coffee table.

Santana followed her line of vision, eyes darkening not only at the sight of the sexy underwear but the new revelation that Brittany wasn't wearing them.

Brittany flinched as if to reach out and grab the item, but seemed to decide at the last minute to just wait until Santana was finished or left the room hopefully.

"Could you…" she began, eyes pleading with Santana's as she shifted closer to the edge of the armchair.

Santana had been watching Brittany debate and it would be a lie if she said she'd been avoiding offering to just get a new shirt in hopes that Brittany would simply lift it over her head and toss it over.

She knew it was pervy, but she was aching to get one more glimpse of that perfect body and was a little disappointed that the more decent side of her brain was winning out over her libido.

"Yeah…I'll just get a new shirt…you can just keep that one. It's a little chilly out for a tank top anyways," she shrugged, gesturing to the flimsy fabric bunched up at the end of the sofa.

"I'll take you home in a bit, okay?"

Brittany smiled sheepishly and whispered, "Thanks" just as Santana made her way up the stairs.

They'd been sitting outside of Brittany's building for a full minute in silence. Neither seemed to know how to say goodnight and Santana was growing uneasy with the obvious tension.

"Britt..." she whispered, leaning across the center console just as Brittany turned to look at her. Their faces were inches apart and Santana grinned shyly before pressing her lips chastely against Brittany's.

"I'll see you..." she said, pulling back and settling into her own seat. Brittany, still dazed from everything that had happened, could only nod and reach down to grab her bag.

She fumbled with the door handle and the lock, and even in the dim light, Santana could see the blush coloring her cheeks.

When Brittany was finally out of her car and safely on her doorstep, she turned back to wave. Santana waved back before starting her car and driving off.

She didn't see the smile that crept onto Brittany's face as she touched her fingers to her lips and whispered, "I'll see you."

Yeah. Okay. I love you guys. Haha. Drop a Review if you're so inclined. I hope it was worth the wait.