So right now I'm meant to be writing my new chapter on The Best of Me –if you haven't checked it out, you should! I'm not biased or anything, but I heard it's pretty good ;)-, and trust me, I definitely am. I just wanted to do this also. It's probably (most definitely) only going to be two chapters. I can't sleep, and this is how I decided to fill the time. Enjoy (:
"I shouldn't be thinking like this" Santana complains, but her eyes never move from the scene in front of her.
"Yeah, you definitely shouldn't" Quinn agrees half-heartedly and Santana can tell she's watching too.
Brittany, Santana's new house guest, is currently laying out on a sun bed beside the pool in nothing but a skimpy little swimsuit. It's the summer, so really, it's only natural that she is hanging out beside the pool, but that doesn't mean Santana likes it.
"Gotta admit though, the girl is hot" Quinn notes as she flounces away from the bedroom window. There's a sound of her falling onto the bed, but Santana hasn't finished watching yet.
"Don't say things like that Q, she's my uncle's daughter for crying out loud" Santana exclaims, raking her hands over her face.
"S, she's your uncle's stepdaughter. So it's not like you're actually related to her or anything" Quinn chirps in that annoying little sing-song voice that she's adopted lately.
"Whose side are you on here?" Santana grumbles.
There's a silence. And that is all she needs to know that Quinn is definitely not on her side. Then there's an airy giggle, which sounds positively peculiar coming from Quinn, and she gets an answer "I'm not on anybody's side, Santana. I just don't think it'd be a bad thing if you went for it, that's all"
It would be a bad thing, Santana's sure of it. That doesn't mean she's stopped staring out of her window yet though. Brittany, being the completely aware minx that she is, sits up. The blonde pulls off the shades covering her eyes, and now Santana can see that she's staring right back. Her first urge is to duck, but what's the point in that? She's already been caught. Her second is to vomit. But that's just embarrassing.
Brittany must sense her discomfort, like usual, she revels in it. Sending Santana a smirk and a wink, she rolls onto her stomach, pulling her hair to one side of her shoulder, and undoes the back of her bikini top.
"Jesus Christ" Santana groans, finally turning away.
"Go for it, Santana" Quinn coaxes.
"Just shut up, Quinn"
Brittany Pierce is a tease. Plain and simple. And that would be fine, except that Santana is the one she's teasing.
"Brittany, you're my cousin. We're not going through this again" Santana sighs from her end of the couch.
Brittany smiles "First of all, not your cousin. And second, I don't really know what you're talking about, San"
Santana shoots her a glare "You just asked if you could text me a picture of your-" Santana breathes out, rolling her eyes at herself "Of your pussy"
Brittany maintains her composure, that innocent expression never falling from her face. But Santana looks real closely, and she can see it: the mischievous glint in her eye, the miniscule quirk of her lips.
There's nothing innocent about her. "I meant my cat. Seriously. Though it'd have to be a picture of Charity, because I couldn't fit Lord Tubbington in the frame"
Brittany tells her this; Santana can't help rolling her eyes again because that is such bullshit. Santana lays back, picking up the remote and flicking through the channels again. "You're crazy"
"No, I'm sexy" Brittany states. Santana's eyes snap back up to her. Brittany is playing with a lock of her hair, watching Santana from beneath long lashes. She purrs out "Wouldn't you agree, San?"
"I'm straight" it comes out too quickly and automatically for it to be plausible.
Brittany's smile deepens, she nods reassuringly "Of course you are, Santana" The blonde jumps up from her seat and Santana squashes away the sigh of relief she has knowing that she'll get a moments peace.
Brittany has other plans as she leans over the back of the couch, her breath ghosting the skin of Santana's ear. "You're so tense San, you should really find an outlet for that stress"
The Latina keeps her gaze locked on the TV screen, stiff, and unwilling to give in. Brittany chuckles, sending tingles through her body as it washes over her "You know, if you want, I could be willing to text you those photos I was talking about"
"Of your cat?" Santana questions.
Brittany giggles. Her blonde hair tickling Santana's neck as she shakes her head. "No. Of my pussy"
Santana breathes out unsteadily, glad for the moment when Brittany straightens up and walks away. Santana watches her ascend the stairs, gulping when Brittany looks back and she's caught again.
The blonde smirks from over her shoulder, still walking up the steps "If you want, Santana"
Santana and Puck are in her bedroom. She's got her tongue in his mouth and his hand has been creeping increasingly higher up her thigh. They've only been making out for a few minutes. It's hurried and desperate because it isn't often they get time alone.
But right now, well, Santana's parents are out, Quinn has finally gone home for the first time in days, and Brittany went for a shower about two minutes after she let Puck through the door.
"Babe, you're so sexy" he breathes onto her lips. It doesn't do anything to her when he says this; it's what most guys say when she's with them and she's grown more than immune. Santana would know, she was single (and definitely mingling) just over a fortnight ago.
Strange. That's about the same amount of time that Brittany's been here.
"Mhmm" she hums, bringing his lips forcefully back to her own, wanting to cut off all attempts at conversation. Growing tired of the mechanical, mindless way her mouth moves with his, Santana shifts to straddle the boy, his back resting against her headboard.
She's been grinding into him for the last ten minutes when she realises she'd left her bedroom door open. You see, she has time to think about tedious things like that during moments like these. Craning her head away, Santana looks towards the open door, preventing the roll of her eyes when Puck takes no notice and simply moves his mouth to her neck.
Brittany is standing there. Leaning against the doorframe. In a towel.
For some reason, Santana doesn't voice her definite shock at finding her there. She's more hypnotised with the way Brittany's wet hair causes droplets to fall along her alabaster skin. The towel barely covers anything; starting at her breasts and stopping just short of her ass. Santana can feel the large hands on her hips, and the mouth moving across her neck, but all she can see is Brittany. And her long legs. And her barely covered body. But mostly her legs.
Dark eyes travel up the complete shape of her, until they ultimately reach her face. Brittany has an eyebrow raised, her lightning-coloured eyes zeroed in on the boy beneath her, an almost menacing glaze shimmering within the blue.
It's hot. The expression on her face. Santana seriously cannot help the way her body gyrates down harder because of it. Abruptly, Brittany's eyes aren't on Puck anymore; they're on her. The blue isn't angry, it's aware, knowing, amused. Brittany smirks, and suddenly, that raised eyebrow is aimed at her.
Santana tries to say or do something. To push Puck off. Or to tell Brittany to get out. But all she does is blush, her eyes never drifting from the blonde's. Brittany's smirk deepens, blue eyes wink at her, and then she walks away. Leaving the door still wide open.
Santana can hardly breathe.
It's a week later and Brittany has definitely stepped up her shower rate. Along with her walking-around-the-house-in-just-a-towel rate. It's not getting to Santana or anything. She's not interested, of course. And even if she were, she can handle herself, thank you very much.
However, she's learning that what she can't handle, is Brittany and Quinn. The two are practically besties now. See, this is Brittany's first holiday here in Lima, and Quinn has always spent more time at the Lopez house than her own since they were eleven. So of course the two met, like, a day after Brittany arrived. It could be an understatement to say the two get along merrily.
Sometimes Santana questions whether Quinn is here for her, or for Brittany. Other times, she wonders if Quinn is working with Brittany and if they're both ganging up on her.
It's times like this where she doesn't have to wonder. She knows.
"Britt! This tastes amazing" Quinn gushes as she hovers over the mixing bowel perched between them.
"I know, right? I wasn't so sure, because I'm pretty awful at recipes but this was easy" Brittany smiled
"It's gonna turn out great. I told you I'd help you" Quinn grinned.
Santana was trying to ignore them, though she could definitely hear an undertone to that last sentence. Repeatedly scrolling down the home page of her Facebook site, Santana kept sitting at the kitchen island, trying to appear as uninterested as she could.
The two blondes watched her amusedly. They shared a long glance and Brittany silently indicated that Quinn dip her finger into the mixture of the bowel. Quinn gave her a look, before shrugging and doing it anyway.
"Gross, now my fingers are all messy" Quinn says with some semblance of honesty. She's caught on to what Brittany's going to do, so she pushes her discomfort back.
Out of the corner of her eye, Brittany can see Santana cast a sneaky look up to what they're doing. Smiling, her eyes always on Santana, Brittany breathes out "Here Q" lifting the blonde's dainty hand "let me get that for you"
Santana gulps as she watches Brittany's mouth close around two of Quinn's fingers. She can see the pink of her lips enveloping them and can only imagine what it would be like to have that tongue swirling around-
She bolts up, pushing away from the kitchen island and nearly letting her stool clatter to the ground. "Um, I've gotta gay. GO! Go. I've gotta go"
Brittany quickly pulls back, giving Quinn a tea-towel she can wipe her hand with. They watch as the Latina scurries out of the kitchen. The blondes turn back to each other. "Do you think it's working?" Brittany asks
Quinn grins "Britt. It's been working since the moment you got here, trust me"
Brittany smiles at the reassurance. However her eyebrows soon begin to furrow. She peers up at Quinn "So how much longer do you think it'll take?"
Hearing the upstairs slam of Santana's bedroom door, Quinn's gentle grin morphs into a smirk "Not long now, B"
It's later that night when Quinn has been called home; Brittany and Santana sit at the dining room table with the Latina's parents, the blondes' cake serving as a magnificent reminder of today as it sits on the nearby counter while they all eat dinner.
"Santana, how's that Noah boy you've been seeing. Is he treating you well?" Mr Lopez asks her, the tone bordering between being light-hearted and stern.
Santana shrugs disinterestedly "Wouldn't know. I broke up with him yesterday"
The Latina ignores the way blue eyes snap up at her, she keeps her face neutral and suitably bored. She's not that bothered about not being with Puck. He was kind of useless and dreary. Not to mention he couldn't keep his eyes off her house guest.
Her Dad clears his throat. He rubs his arm along her shoulder in an attempt to appear compassionate, however Santana can see the pleased swell of his chest as he feebly tells her "That's okay, mija, boys are no good anyway"
Brittany nods her head adamantly "Oh I agree, San. You shouldn't waste yourself on boys"
Neither adult catches the way Brittany had emphasised the word 'boy'. She glares "Right. And you think I have better things to waste myself on, do you Brittany?"
The blonde shrugs, all pretences practically out the window "I don't think it'd be a waste. I think it'd be amazing"
"Brittany," Santana firmly insists
Mr Lopez looks between them. Noting Santana's gritted teeth as she chokes out "Stop"
The blonde softly shakes her head "Earth-shattering"
"Girls?" he asks wearily.
Ignoring him, Brittany goes to open her mouth again. Santana snaps "Not now, Britt"
The staring is so intense and Santana's parents are unable to decipher a moment of it. "So, Brittany, are you excited for your parents arriving tomorrow?" Mrs Lopez questions, effectively changing the subject.
Santana and Brittany glance away from each other, both fighting off the automatic correction: Brittany's parent. Singular, not plural. He's the stepdad. Not actually related.
Brittany smiles politely "Um, yeah, sure. I guess I haven't really had the chance to speak to them since I got here"
Mrs Lopez looks surprised "Really? But that was three weeks ago"
Brittany shrugs, not quite understanding why that's an issue. Mr Lopez (who insists on Brittany calling him by name, though she refuses) grins widely and pats her back "Ah, I'm sure Brittany's just been too busy having fun! Am I right, girls?"
Santana shrugs sheepishly, causing Brittany to grin. It's wicked, and Santana mutters "Yeah, Brittany's been having the time of her life, right Britt?"
The blonde nearly winks "Almost"
"Almost?" Santana dares. She's sure that Brittany has been getting a real kick out of spending the last few weeks making Santana's skin itch with desire.
Brittany nods, raising her leg and gliding her toes down the inside of Santana's calf. "Yeah, almost. I'm nearly there"
The Latina huffs, somewhat tensely, and yanks her legs out of Brittany's reach. The blonde smiles in response making Santana want to scream at its apparent innocence. The Lopez parents take in the interaction, neither making sense of it.
"Well Santana…" Mrs Lopez starts slowly, waiting until she's regained the girls' attention before continuing "I also wanted to remind you that your tio and Caroline will be sleeping in the guest room"
They both shrug, seemingly unbothered by this piece of information. The woman sighs, elaborating herself "Which means, mija, that you need to help Brittany move her things into your bedroom tonight. You'll be sharing for the remainder of the summer"
Santana coughs on the food in her throat "But there's only my bed in there!"
Her mother frowns and Santana, despite the woman's tiny structure, shrinks back "I'm sure Brittany doesn't mind sharing" she settles her gaze on the grinning blonde "You don't mind, do you Brittany?"
The blonde shakes her head, her eyes nearly glazing over with the possibilities, the opportunities. The probabilities. Her voice is quiet in an attempt to hide her playful elation "No. I don't mind at all"
"Right. So that's the last of your shit" Santana states as she drops the heavy duffle bag on her floor. She takes in the sight of the three other suitcases, scratching her head "Why did you bring so much stuff? Actually, hang on, I'm sure you only arrived with the duffle when we picked you up"
Brittany looks up from the magazine she was flipping through "Oh yeah, I did"
Santana gives her a quizzical look. Brittany shrugs, grinning sheepishly "I thought just having that would be good. You know, in case I should need to make a quick getaway"
Santana is long used to the nonsensical comments that pop out of Brittany's mouth. She's found she doesn't need to ask why a quick getaway was needed, or how she managed to get three heavy suitcases here afterwards. Brittany just has this way of making things happen. Inexplicably. "So what made you change your mind?"
The blonde eyes her from the middle of the bed. Santana's breathing is a little faster than usual due to carrying Brittany's luggage up the stairs on her own. Her chest is heaving, though only slightly, and there is a very, very light sheen of sweat on her forehead. The blonde can't take her eyes off her.
"I guess I found something worth staying for" the blonde admits. Santana's mouth quirks up; it's one of the few times when Brittany is graced with the rare, genuine, Santana-smile. She loves moments like these.
"You look so beautiful when you smile like that" she blurts out before she can stop herself. Brittany almost wants to face palm at how cheesy she sounds. But then she realises that it's true, so why shouldn't Santana know it?
In response, all Santana does is blush, the same way she had looking at Brittany in her doorway the week before. The blonde sees the light colouring beneath her caramel cheeks and is instantly reminded of it. Images of Santana on top of that guy; her body moving so sensually, her mouth, hands, and hips relentlessly teasing. The only thing tainting the memory is Puck. Though it's easy enough now to replace his presence with her own.
"What are you thinking about?" Brittany asks when she notices that Santana's sight is unfocused and wandering.
Santana shrugs. "Nothing" the speed in which she says it, along with the flushing of her skin proves that it certainly wasn't nothing. Brittany really wants to know now.
"Mm" the blonde hums in sad acceptance. They'd already changed clothes before Brittany had batted her eyelashes and sweetly asked 'Saaann could you pretty please help' bring her stuff upstairs. So with that being done, Brittany lifts herself up and slides beneath the covers.
Santana observed the ease at which Brittany slipped into her bed. It was comfortable, homely, and very domestic. Santana rubs uneasily at her left breastbone, feeling an odd flutter beneath her chest at the sight. Brittany cocks her head at her "Are you coming to bed now, Tana?"
The Latina nods dumbly, turning in silence to flick off the light switch at the wall. It gains her a soft smile, even though she doesn't catch it. Stumbling around to the other side of the bed, Santana slinks in as gently as she can, laying on her back, extremely careful not to make any body contact with the person beside her.
Brittany is laying on her back too, both girls staring at the ceiling. She feels nervous for the first time since she met Santana, yet she doesn't know why. To her surprise, Santana breaks the silence first "Goodnight Britt"
Brittany grins into the dark "Night San"
Neither girl falls asleep.
So all mistakes are mine, obviously. Don't really know who else they'd belong to. Anyway. Is it okay? Less than okay? Slightly better than okay? Tell me; what you think, what you'd like, how you'd like it. Smut is next chapter. Review!