"Britt?" she whispers, concerned. There's enough people leaving now that she's probably going to start drawing attention to herself soon.
Brittany's been in her voting booth for way longer than she should be and Santana would be worried that she's stuffing the ballot boxes if it wasn't for the fact that Britt walked into that booth not carrying anything. There's also the fact that she's wearing a uniform that has no pockets... and, even if she had hidden something, well, let's just say, there wasn't anything in Brittany's bra earlier.
"Britt!" she hisses. Everyone of real importance has kind of left now. Coach Bieste still sits behind the table talking to the normal election voters, but she's kind of just staring into space and humming Dolly Parton under her breath.
Santana rolls her eyes and yanks back the curtain, expecting to find Brittany doing something strange or as questionable as a lot of things Brittany is prone to do. Instead, she finds her stood there, leaning against the little counter with her arms folded, smirking.
"Took you long enough," is all she says before she's pulling Santana in after her and yanking the curtain closed behind them.
Santana furrows her brow confused. She was not a part of this plan and she's kind of unsure to what the hell they're even doing.
"Britt..." she starts but then warm pink lips are descending on hers and she kind of forgets everything except Brittany. She grips at the hem of Brittany's cheerios top and hums into the surprise, unaware of how much she'd missed the way Brittany's lips fit against hers until they were finding their home there.
Brittany pulls away and it's her smirk that tells Santana that she should not be getting comfortable. Brittany's fingers wrap around her waist, then there's fingers brushing beneath her Cheerios top, in the dip of her back, coaxing her closer than she thought possible. If it didn't feel so wonderful, she thinks she'd call it an ambush.
"You're going to have to be quiet," Brittany whispers, breath warm on Santana's lips. The fingers at the base of her back drift up to her bra clasp while the other hand disappears beneath the back pleats of her skirt. Fingertips trace the line of her spankies and Santana finds herself smirking before she can stop.
She throws her arms around Brittany's shoulders and giggles low in her throat.
"If you're trying to win my vote," she says, nose and chin squished against Brittany's. She barely has to move to kiss her once, twice, on the lips. "I feel like I should inform you that I already voted for the hockey player."
Brittany moves back a little, her brow furrowing sadly. "Really?" she says, unable to stop the disappointment in her voice, or the adorable little pout.
Santana just giggles mischievously. Her mouth opens against Brittany's parted lips and she shakes her head.
"No," she mumbles and then Brittany's smile returns, only to disappear again when Santana teases a tongue against her bottom lip. "You're my girl."
Brittany's eyes darken and thin instantly. Her mouth curls into a smirk against Santana's and Santana doesn't give her a moment to speak before she's sucking on her bottom lip. The hand on her back, toying with her bra clasp loosens and Santana's back arches into her as Brittany scratches her nails down her back. She hisses, eyes hazy as Brittany's smirk only widens. She doesn't even look shocked when Santana tugs on her lip with her teeth.
"What's gotten into you?" Santana whispers breathlessly between them.
It's really hard to concentrate when Brittany's fingers carry on down her back and curving around her ass, over her thighs until it's joining the other hand still toying with her spanks. There's no space between them, bodies pressed together tightly. Brittany's managed to shift a thigh between Santana's and she doesn't notice until the hands on her ass her pulling her down hard, just as she tugs her into a kiss so hard it almost makes her teeth hurt.
"You kissed my cheek," Brittany says low and quietly. Words so cute and innocent shouldn't sound so dirty but it's impossible for them not to when Brittany's urging her to rock against her thigh, mouth sucking the too-soft skin beneath her ear. "You kissed my cheek and you put your arm around me in front of a camera..." she whispers. "...like it was nothing at all."
Santana's grip around Brittany's shoulder tightens and she feels that familiar rush of butterflies through the low hum of warmth in her pelvis.
"I know," she whispers, because it was one of the best rushes of her life. To hold Brittany's hand and hold her close, for people to see. She might be a novelty for the entirety of Ohio, right now, but there's no way she's keeping it a secret that's she able to call this beautiful girl hers.
Brittany moans against her ear and Santana's glad that she's not holding herself up because she's pretty sure her spine disappears at the sound.
"I'm so proud of you," Brittany says between sucks of Santana's neck.
One of the hands on her ass drifts up her back, tugs at the collar of her cheerios top, until there's enough room for Brittany to suck mercilessly on her collarbone. Santana feels the bruise bloom against her skin but she doesn't feel the usual panic she gets to stop her. Instead, she brings one of her own hands to cup the back of Brittany's neck and hold her closer.
Even that action seems to spur Brittany on and she kisses and sucks her way back up to Santana's mouth, delving her tongue into Santana's waiting open mouth.
Things become frenzied fast after that. Santana barely manages to gather control of her hands as she rips the tie from her own hair, quickly followed by the one in Brittany's. Her arms find purchase around Brittany's shoulders, tangles her fingers in golden blonde hair as Brittany kisses her like they're never going to be able to again. Strong hands tug at her skirt until it's wrapped around her waist. Fingers, that feel too gentle for what they're doing, push themselves beneath the tight fabric of her spankies, inadvertently pushing them down. Santana moans as nails dig dangerously into flesh, letting it urge her hips to rock faster against her.
"Britt Britt," she pants, yanking her mouth away when it feels like she might black out from the lack of breath. The kisses just drift to her jaw, to her ear. "God, Jesus..." she gasp when her lobe gets pulled between teeth. "Can't you wait?"
Brittany shakes her head, pulling on the skin accidentally and letting go when Santana hisses. Santana Shivers when Brittany's nose follows Brittany's tongue as they both stroke down her neck before sucking at her pulse.
"I... I need to make you come," Brittany whispers quietly, like a child who knows they've done something naughty. "I need to..." she moans when Santana's hips jolt faster against her. She moans and then their mouths are attaching themselves back together. Brittany sucks on Santana's top lip as she whines. "I need to make you come," she whispers, finding Santana's eyes and palms enveloping her face. "I need it."
She slows at the desperation in Brittany's voice and gulps because, shit. She tries her hardest to moisten her throat but it's impossible. All moisture in her body has pooled warm between her legs. She can feel it where Brittany's hands still lazily force her to grind against her thigh. It's difficult, but after a moment, a breath, she starts to shift her body away from Brittany, reaching for her hands.
And it's with lightening fast reflexes that Brittany stops her, pulls her back into her body and kisses her again. Santana stands between her thighs and misses the friction instantly, but she's okay when Brittany's kissing her slowly like this, so softly, like she thinks it'll break Santana if she goes any faster. She still misses the speed and desperation of a moment ago, though. It feels like they've not been like that in forever (too afraid to ruin things with lust), and never been like it at all (With these new feelings, everything is new). She bites into Brittany's kiss, just to feel it again.
"C'mon," she says when Brittany pulls away and kisses her cheeks, her jaw. "I've got my car."
Brittany holds her tighter and looks from Santana's eyes to her mouth, to the tiny space left between them. "I can't wait," she whispers. "I can't..." she kisses Santana again, buries her fingers into Santana's long, dark hair. "Now. Here," she pleas.
Santana feels something bubble inside of her. She would say it was panic and worry if it didn't feel so much like adrenaline and excitement. "There's..." she starts carefully. "There's people right outside."
"They've probably all gone to class by now," Brittany says, her thumb brushes over Santana's bottom lip as she cups her cheeks. Santana kisses the pad of it, just because.
"We might get caught," she says, even as her hand is pressing inside Brittany's shirt.
"C'mon," Brittany says, blue eyes twinkling mischievously. She laughs a little. "What are you afraid of?"
The usual response is at the tip of her tongue: getting caught, everyone finding out who she is, her parents finding out and losing everything. All of it.
It's remarkable how quickly she remembers that none of that matters anymore, how quickly the rush of realization registers. Everyone already knows, or they will eventually anyway, and she feels so irrationally happy because of it.
What's even more remarkable is how quickly Brittany kisses her once she sees the little smile start to curve at Santana's mouth, recognizing the first signs that she's given in. Santana moans into it, loses her breath instantly, as Brittany clutches her closer.
"I want you," Brittany says against her. The words don't actually make a sound but Santana feels them against her ear and smirks. "I need to feel you."
Her hands grab one of Brittany's from where it's settled at her back and brings it between them. She presses Brittany's palm to her stomach, lets it warm there for a moment as she kisses her lazily, tongues wrapping and curling around each other, before she guides it between her legs.
Brittany takes over once she realizes where her hand is being led and Santana clutches her wrist so she doesn't stop. Brittany cups her instantly, long fingers flexing and stroking her through her fabric for a moment, a thumb finding the place it wants to be. Santana whines into Brittany's mouth, eyes fluttering and waits for whatever Brittany has in store for her. She strokes her slowly, kisses from her mouth to her neck and up to her ear. A hand wraps around her waist and, with a dancer's grace, Brittany spins them, until Santana's back is pressed against the counter.
She has no arguments until Brittany's withdrawing her hand from between her legs.
"Britt," she gasps, hips moving forward, searching. "Britt, please..." she begs, arms wrapping around Brittany's shoulders.
She's really confused when Brittany instantly removes them, unwrapping them from around her, even as she's licking kisses into Santana's mouth.
"Not like that," Brittany says softly when Santana just looks at her desperate with confusion.
But she's curious, so she doesn't do anything. She lets Brittany have all the control, doesn't question when Brittany slowly pulls her shirt up off over her head, taking of her bra and setting them both behind her on the counter. She watches as Brittany presses two gentle kisses to each of her breasts but doesn't understand what the hell is going on until Brittany starts kissing lower, slowly getting onto her knees before her. She's pretty sure her heart stops in anticipation.
When innocent blue eyes look up at her and whisper "Like this", Santana almost comes.
"Fuck," she gasps, head lolling back to look at the dark and tiny ceiling of the booth. Her hands press to Brittany's shoulders as she kisses over her stomach, teeth nipping at the protruding bones of her hips. She's glad when Brittany takes off her shirt, glad that she can feel skin instead of the scratchy fabric of their uniforms and glad that Brittany doesn't wear a bra. Her nails dig into Brittany's shoulder as fingers trail up and down the backs of her thighs.
"Britt Britt," she hisses warningly and then Brittany's nails are scratching over her ass, over her hips, her thighs, as Brittany drags her spankies down her legs, her underwear going with them.
She steps out of them and watches Brittany push them aside. She almost laughs when Brittany pulls at her shoes, then her socks too, but, instead, she shivers when the warmth of Brittany's breath teases her through the pleats of her skirt. She looks down only to find Brittany staring intently back up at her, hands stroking up from her ankles.
"Here," she whispers softly, gathering the pleats of Santana's skirt and holding them in her hands. "Hold these from my face."
Santana starts to shiver and takes the fabric from her hands wordlessly. She doesn't look away though, just looks at the way Brittany's breasts heave with her breathlessness, the way the toes of her shoes threaten to poke beneath the curtain and give them away. As Brittany stares hungrily at the place between her legs, Santana watches the beads of sweat that roll down Brittany's naked spine.
She expects Brittany to give her no chance to prepare herself, to shock her with the sudden touch of her tongue, warm against where she needs it most, but she doesn't. She kisses Santana's skin slowly, over her hips and her thighs, down to her knees where they quiver warningly.
"Open your legs," she says as she nudges them open anyway. Santana does as she's told and shifts her feet with Brittany's pushes. Her hands grip dangerously at the fabric in her hands and her eyes remain locked with Brittany's as her mouth presses against her again. Her kisses litter over Santana's pelvis, into the now accessible creases of her groin. Santana's breathing increases and she tries not to close her eyes, to keep them open and take in every moment of this.
She hears Brittany breathe in and exhale shakily. It makes the shaking in her legs increase and she's suddenly not sure if she'll be able to take this. Brittany's hands are strong in their grasp behind her knees and when she rests her forehead against Santana's hips and just breathes, Santana's not sure if she's going to either.
But then she feels those hands crawling back up her thighs and drawing her closer. Then she feels a kiss, one, two, right above where she needs it most, and then lips are closing around her clit and sucking hard and fast without warning.
She chokes on a moan and fights everything within her not to let go of the skirt in her hands or look away uncontrollably.
Brittany's lips leave her slowly and she pulls away with a breathy moan. Santana watches her, feels the pressure build at the way her mouth works so effortlessly against her skin. She wants nothing more than to just touch her, to stroke her face and see if the beauty there is real. Sometimes she looks and it feels like it can't be.
Lips descend on her again, a tongue joins them and Santana blinks at the rush of pleasure that starts to rush through her body. A hand grips at her ass to keep her as close to Brittany's mouth as possible, while the other keeps nudging at her legs to get them further and further apart. Brittany moans against her, her thirst obvious as her tongue laps and flicks over Santana's skin. Santana keeps looking because she figures the more rapt by the expression on Brittany's face she is, the less likely she is to moan.
It all goes flying out the window when Brittany starts stroking over her entrance with a fingertip, circling and teasing in the best and worst way possible. Santana's pushing up on her tip-toes at the feeling before she knows it.
"Britt Britt," she gasps. She blinks at the way Brittany looks so unfazed, and can't take it anymore. She pushes her away before she knows what she's doing.
"San..." she says, eyes wide and concerned. But then Santana just ignores her, arms shaking as she pushes the skirt down her legs, puts it with the rest of their clothes, before resuming her position against the counter.
"Again," she whimpers, her entire body quivering with need. Her knuckles are white where they grip the counter and the frustration becomes unbearable when she sees Brittany just staring at her in awe. She releases one hand from the counter and tangles it in Brittany's hair, looks at her pleadingly as she urges her back between her thighs. "Baby, please..." she whimpers, knees threatening to buckle. "Please," she begs before it trails into a choke when Brittany's mouth descends back to her clit, sucking greedily.
Her thighs quiver and she knows she isn't going to last long. A moment of disappointment registers and then she blinks it back because she really doesn't want to enjoy this kind of exhibitionism. There's a thick black curtain separating her naked body from expulsion and awkward conversations, and it shouldn't make her this wet and turned on, but it does. Brittany not being able to walk the five minutes to her car, and driving the mere seconds to the secluded spot they've used so many times, turns her the hell on.
"Don't stop," she breathes, eyes closed and head lolled back. Brittany's tongue keeps working at her clit slowly as her hands tease every available inch of her now naked body. Fingers drag over her thighs, her ass, curve up to stroke in the dip of her spine. They drift up around her waist, fingertips count her ribs, before they reach to cup her boobs. Thumbs play with her nipples until her hips buck into Brittany's face. She swears she hears a pleased chuckle but it trails off as she claws at Brittany's shoulders, making her hiss in appreciative pain.
She pulls away just for a moment; a moment long enough for Santana's head to roll forward to look at her in confused desperation. Her fingers stroke over Santana's hips, the backs of her knuckles stroking her curve of her side. The look that she gives Santana makes her feel like the floor is falling from beneath her, so beautiful and sexy at the same time. No words leave her lips but Santana can hear them anyway, saying "I love you", "trust me" and "I'll always take care of you". It's that look that stops her from releasing another pleading "please" as they keep looking at each other.
She catches the hand on her hip moving out the corner of her eye but she doesn't turn to look at it. She remains looking at Brittany, watching her so carefully that, when the fingers of that hand stroke through her, tease her, she gets to see Brittany's eyes widen and her mouth fall, as she lets out a moan that's probably too loud for where they are.
She must look ridiculous because Brittany smirks at her and she can feel her face staring back like she's doesn't know what to do, head bowed forward, lips parted in shock. Brittany reaches up, so she can grab her around the neck, and pulls her in for a pacifying kiss. She pulls away after a moment, presses a kiss to Santana's jaw before she grabs one of Santana's hands and covers her mouth with it.
She descends over her body again, kisses over her stomach and hips, before she drops back down level with the apex of her thighs. Santana bites into her palm as Brittany's finger starts teasing at her entrance again, feels her hips drop trying to find purchase on the touch. She's not prepared when the touch leaves her, she's even less prepared when it's replaced by a warm tongue that somehow manages its way inside of her, even at the odd angle. She glances down enough to see Brittany shifted forward, almost underneath the counter and knows it's going to be minutes, seconds.
Hands grip at her hips and pull her onto the tongue that pulsates inside of her. The muffled moans of Brittany against her cause her to shiver, make her hips drop and cant into her movements. Her orgasm approaches at lightening speed, too fast, and she hates herself because she would gladly stay here forever. Brittany can feel it too; she holds a steady rhythm inside of her as her hands shift away from her hips. One strokes at the dip in her spine as the other presses against her hip. Santana takes the hand from her mouth and buries it back in Brittany's hair again, her controlled pants quiet and steady for now.
"Oh, Britt-Britt," she whispers, fingers stroking steadily over her scalp. The tenderness helps, holds the oncoming of her release back for a few more moments so she can indulge in the feel of this, of Brittany,her Brittany for just a few seconds more. The tension in her pelvis, across her body, grows warmer because of it. Her eyes threaten to roll back into her head as Brittany brings down her thumb and brushes over her clit, once, twice, and it's all she needs to climb just that little bit higher before she's falling over the edge with only Brittany to catch her.
Her knees buckle and Brittany's there, holding her hips steady as she leans forward and braces herself on Brittany's shoulders. She pants dangerously, waits for Brittany to bring her down as slowly as possible and closes her eyes to the exhaustion, to the warm buzz of the release that soothes her gently.
Brittany is slow in her trek back up her body. Her hands stroke over naked curves and she licks over Santana's naval slowly. She sucks a nipple into her mouth and strokes it with a tongue while one hand cups the back of Santana's neck and the other drags over the other breast.
She's laughing gently by the time that she reaches eye level with Santana. She lets Santana lazily suck her tongue into her mouth to taste herself until she's giggling too, wrapping arms around Brittany's waist to bring her closer.
"You're naked," Brittany whispers into her cheek like it's a secret.
Santana chuckles. "I know."
They lapse back into slow lazy kisses again. Santana somehow manages to push Brittany's skirt off her hips, until she's in nothing but her spankies, and doesn't think twice about pushing her hand beneath them and Brittany's underwear until she can feel warm flesh.
"And you're really wet," Santana says in the same hushed whisper. Brittany just nods into her neck and holds herself against her. Santana nudges her into a kiss and pulls away, just as her hand reaches lower, two fingers easily finding their way inside of her. Brittany gasps out soundlessly and their eyes remain locked as Santana pumps steadily inside to the rocking of her hips.
"I love you." She sucks Brittany's bottom lip, eyes never leaving hers.
Brittany nods, bringing their foreheads together with the hand still cupped around Santana's neck. Her nails dig into Santana's back and Santana takes it as a warning. Her hand unwraps itself from her waist and pushes the spankies and underwear down to her knees. Santana turns them steadily, never stopping, and pushes Brittany against the counter. She quickly adds a third finger and it's Brittany's turn to keep herself quiet as her breaths turn into high-pitched moans. Santana uses the natural rhythm of their hips for leverage but somehow manages to reach her other hand between their bodies as Brittany holds her close. Three fingers work inside of her deeply as two rub at her clit and Santana lets Brittany suck on her top lip quietly as they look at each other.
Brittany chokes out a moan and she probably looks just as shocked as Santana did. Everything's so quiet now, so gentle and intimate that Santana almost feels like they're back in one of their bedrooms. Brittany strokes at the whispy hairs at the back of her neck she doubts that anyone walking in would stop them. They're locked into each other, eyes hazy as Brittany starts to tighten around her fingers.
And it stays quiet when Brittany comes. She arches into Santana and Santana holds her steady, keeps her safe as her breathing becomes heavy and shallow at the same time. She clutches Santana closer and, if it wasn't for the sudden pulsating of muscles around her fingers and the familiarity of those wide beautiful eyes and that gentle parted mouth, you wouldn't even be able to tell Brittany came at all. It's not until Santana's working to draw the last of it from her that she makes any sign of it. She pumps her hips to help and shudders, just before her thighs loosen and her body collapses against Santana. Santana hums, glad for the warmth, and withdraws her fingers gently before resting them on Brittany's hips.
Foreheads still together, Brittany blinks at her steadily. She strokes Santana's neck with her fingertips and looks at her like she's the greatest thing in the universe.
"Even if I don't win," she says after a moment. "I'm going to definitely remember this day as a good one."
Santana snorts and kisses her for a moment. She reaches up and brushes messy blond hair from Brittany's face. "You're gonna win," Santana says with no room for argument. "And you're gonna remember this day as the best day ever."
Something flashes in Brittany's eyes and Santana watches her as she looks at her reverently. She almost feels uncomfortable under her gaze, almost wants to be scared by it, but then Brittany cups her cheek and kisses her and it pacifies any worry instantly.
"For now," she says softly when she pulls back, like she doesn't want to be heard, like she doesn't want to be caught daring to dream.
Santana gets it. She hears the hope and sees it in her eyes, too. She sees the fear and is sure it's mirrored back in her own. It doesn't stop her from deep-down hoping and wanting the same things too. She gets it. Today is the best day, but there will be better ones. They have a chance for that now.
Santana cups Brittany's cheeks and kisses her, too.
"For now," she repeats and loves the happiness that mixes with the ever-growing hope. She smiles warmly and presses a kiss to Brittany's nose until it scrunches. "We should get dressed," she says, letting the real world crash around them.
Brittany steps back and nods. "We're late for geometry," she says.
Santana laughs softly. "I think we're too late for that," she says as she reaches down for her underwear and spankies. They dress in silence with shameless smiles on their faces.
Just before Brittany peels back the curtain, Santana pulls her back. The sudden need to say something overwhelms her.
"I want to have lots of good days with you," she says shyly. She feels Brittany's grip on her hand tightly.
Brittany pulls her into another kiss that's just pecks over her face, her nose, down her neck. "Me too," she says before she's dragging them through the now empty gym. When she pulls her in the other direction of the English class they're supposed to be heading to, Santana follows, giggling.
"Where are we going?" she says breathlessly.
When Brittany pushes her inside the janitors closet and pushes her against the wall, she gasps.
"I just want to set the bar high for all those other good days," she says as her mouth latches onto Santana's neck and her hand disappears up her shirt. Santana's too busy thinking of all the good days that might possibly top this one to argue.