Title: Back to Black
Rating: Hard R (lol not really, I just wanted to put hard in front of the R because it sounds more badass, let's be real)
Disclaimer: Glee doesn't belong to me. If it did, it probably wouldn't suck as much.
A/N: Hey guys. So I hope you're not watching the episode, and if you are, I hope it's on a stream so that you're not contributing to the ratings. In any case, this is a short one-shot that's kind of angsty, but I dunno, I guess it's kind of hopeful in the end? I might write a complementary fluffier piece for next Thursday if I have time. Keep shipping Brittana, because they are endgame, and don't ever lose hope! Glee sucks, but that's why we have the amazing writers of our fandom to keep us from sinking until Glee gets their shit together. :)
EDIT: I decided to just put all the angsty one-shots under one story, since they all prettymuch happen in the same Canon universe.
We only said goodbye with words
I died a hundred times
I loved you much
It's not enough
Brittany knows who it is before she even answers the door, and, not for the first time, she asks herself why they're still doing this- why she still allows it. It's been weeks- weeks- since Santana had not broken up with her. But here they are, playing the same games they always play. She keeps herself open, free- unattached, though not lonely- in the hopes that they'll work things out, that Santana will come to her senses, that Santana will realize what Brittany already has. She's done nothing wrong, she knows that. They still loved- love- each other.
So why are they doing this?
Brittany opens the front door and is both pleased and slightly sick to discover that her guess at her late-night visitor is one hundred percent correct.
Britt, Santana breathes, and she doesn't meet her eyes. She stands in the doorway, slightly breathless, finding the doorframe infinitely fascinating, and Brittany swallows at Santana's lack of eye contact. It reminds her too much of-
San, she says, distracting herself from her troubling thoughts. What are you doing here?
Santana steps forward boldly- still avoiding her gaze- and Brittany's suddenly assaulted with her scent, with her warmth. With her lips.
She never stood a chance.
I missed you, Santana says lowly when she pulls back, but not enough to halt the utter take-over of Brittany's senses. Santana looks up for the first time, her dark eyes catching Brittany's blue ones. The raw, exposed vulnerability present in them makes Brittany swallow hard, makes her knees weak, makes her stomach tighten.
I missed you, too, Brittany returns, but her thoughts race, and Santana's lips find hers again anyways, stealing any further conversation.
Why are they doing this?
She doesn't want to. She swore she'd never allow them to regress back to this state. She promised herself so many times that she'd never be Santana's side action again. But here they are.
Doing exactly this.
She knew the moment she heard the door what was going to happen, because it had happened so many times before- in past weeks, in past years. Years that had seemed lifetimes away, but still painfully close, like scars that never heal, because they're still reopening in the present.
Brittany doesn't want to do this.
But she faces the same problems she always has- she can't be without Santana. So she's forced to take her any way she can.
It hurts her, of course it does. It reminds her of their Junior year, when Santana was still in the closet, still too ashamed of herself to admit she loved Brittany.
Still avoiding eye contact.
And now- the circumstances are different, but the feelings are the same. Santana is far away, Santana is her not girlfriend, Santana is avoiding eye contact. Santana wants her, Brittany knows she does. But she's trying to be a good person, a good friend. She's trying to follow that dumb cliché- if you love something, let it go, but Brittany doesn't want to be let go. She only wants Santana. She doesn't want anyone else, and she's ready for the second part of the cliché, because if it comes back it's yours and Brittany never left, she's only ever been Santana's.
Santana kisses her, and it's like she's trying to forget. Brittany knows she's not alone in Louisville, just like Brittany's not alone in Lima. The best way to get over someone is to get under someone but it's hard to get over someone when you don't actually want to be over them and it's even harder to be under someone when you're thinking of the someone you don't want to get over.
Brittany knows Santana wants her, she knows. She just doesn't know why Santana feels like she can't have her. But Santana has to figure things out on her own, so Brittany will let her get under someone in Louisville and then come home to Lima to escape her guilt, because Brittany knows Santana feels guilty. She can almost taste it on her lips. Brittany will wait- she's been waiting for Santana for forever, it seems. Brittany hates waiting, but she hates not having Santana more.
If there's one thing Brittany is good at, it's reassuring Santana, so she will push her own phantoms out of her mind and continue to allow them to do this.
But she doesn't want to.
Santana's tongue invades her mouth and she pushes her into the house. Brittany reaches blindly for the door and shuts it, then pushes Santana back against it, returning her desperate kisses with ones of her own. It hurts her, of course it does. She doesn't want to be under someone in Lima. She only ever wants to be under Santana.
They kiss and kiss, as if they are trying to fuse their mouths together. Santana bites her lower lip harshly, and Brittany returns it harder, and soon they are battling, grabbing, groping each other roughly as if they are trying to punish each other for their own guilt. Brittany picks Santana up easily, and Santana grips Brittany's blonde hair tightly, wrapping her legs around her waist securely and allowing Brittany to carry her up the stairs to her room boldly. She growls in Brittany's mouth and claws at Brittany's scalp, and Brittany bites Santana's neck, sucking fiercely, hoping to leave just a little bit of claim on Santana for the next person Santana's under to see.
They undress quickly- it's faster if they do it themselves, and sometimes it feels like they have to rush, like they are running out of time. Like the clock is ticking by, winding down, and they have to get through it as fast as possible before one of them disappears, or turns into a pumpkin. When their mouths come back together, it's heated and fierce. Teeth clash, tongues duel and Santana's nails leave scratches down Brittany's back, and Brittany hopes it's Santana's own way of claiming her for the next person she's under to see.
When they end up on the bed, they roll and wrestle for dominance, their mouths never parting. Their bodies mash together, and Brittany's heart threatens to break because she'd almost forgotten what it felt like to fit. She pulls Santana impossibly closer, painfully so, but somehow Santana still manages to snake her left hand between her legs.
Brittany gasps at the sudden invasion. Santana's not gentle, and it's these moments that hurt most of all- that Brittany feels like she's being fucked again, not made love to. That Santana has forgotten who she's under. That she doesn't feel the difference, the fit.
Brittany bites her lip and looks away, blinking back her tears.
Despite her emotional turmoil against it, Santana still knows her body better than anyone, still knows how to make her come- and she does, in a shuddering wave, crying out Santana's name brokenly through her gritted teeth.
When she's panting and trembling, she's reminded of why she still allows this to go on.
Santana kisses her, softly, tenderly. She strokes her lovingly, builds her back up, presses her lips to her skin, as if reminding her- I love you- and the second time she comes, it's while looking into Santana's dark eyes, it's while being held close to her pounding heart, it's while feeling safe and secure in her arms.
She recovers, and it's her turn to take out her frustrations, her regrets. It's her turn to wash away her guilt- but she never can. Instead, she heals Santana. She kisses down her body, kisses away the feel of another's hands on her skin. She cleanses her of the feeling of being under someone else, so that she can start again, so that she can break all over again when she returns to Louisville.
Brittany knows Santana doesn't want to be under anyone else, either.
But still they do this.
When Brittany slides inside her, Santana's eyes find hers, and Brittany watches her come undone beneath her, hoping she knows the difference. Hoping she knows who she's under. Hoping she knows they fit.
Santana comes with a cry, and she clutches Brittany to her chest as sobs wrack her body. This time, Brittany's confused. Santana never cries, and it brings a sudden cold tightness to Brittany's stomach.
After, when they're tangled in each other, Santana speaks.
I met someone, she says. That cold feeling returns to Brittany's stomach. And I think I could like her, a little bit.
Brittany just nods, because what else can she do?
It's just until graduation, Santana promises. But her voice cracks, and the tremor in it threatens to break Brittany's heart worse than the forgetting. Santana's scared, scared that it won't be just until graduation, that it will be just until I completely forget you and you completely forget me and we completely forget this, and Brittany knows why they continue to do this.
Because they don't want to forget.
Brittany doesn't answer, because she doesn't know how to say anything that won't come out sounding uncertain or doubtful and doesn't know how to not end it all crying. Maybe- maybe if they continue this, and they meet other people, and they grow apart, and they like other people, and they forget about each other, and they fall in love with other people, maybe- maybe then this won't hurt anymore, but-
Maybe- maybe if they continue this, and they keep fucking each other, and they fuck other people, but they make love to each other, and they like other people, but they love each other, and they forget about each other, but they remind themselves every chance they get, maybe- maybe it will still hurt, but-
Brittany can't be without Santana.
So she will take whatever she can get.
And she will always, always do this.
Okay, turned out a lot shorter and angstier than I planned. Don't worry, eventually they will get fluffier! (I hope!) :)