Title: Cold Coffee and An Engagement Ring
Summary: She doesn't move to get up, or even start to think about it, because she's just lying there, smiling to herself at the decision she made last night. She's actually going to ask Brittany to marry her.
Notes:This is a slight continuation of my other fic 'Cold Coffee and Missed Trains' since apparently people liked it. Don't have to read the other but it helps.
It took six months, three weeks and two days to ask Brittany Pierce on a date.
It only took two weeks and a day to realize that she was already falling madly in love with her.
Then it took three months, one week and five days (a painfully boring Christmas party at her work, too) to realize that one day, she was going to marry that girl.
And only a year, four months, two weeks and six days to pluck up the courage to do anything about it.
They're in Ohio for the weekend before Christmas. Last year they spent it with the Lopez clan, so it seemed only fair to spend this Christmas with the Pierce's.
Currently, Brittany's out with Sugar at the mall—a friendship that sparked between them after they were here for Thanksgiving—and Santana's just standing around in the kitchen, leaning on the center island with her head propped in her hand, flicking through the latest gossip mag and reading what horrific outfit Julia Roberts wore at some award show whilst she waits for the popcorn to cook. Brittany sent her a text a few minutes ago saying she'd be back soon, and since she had to finish some work last night, meaning they had to cancel their date night, they moved it over to tonight which means movies and popcorn.
(She's not entirely sure her mom's going to appreciate with them having slow, sweaty sex on the couch whilst the movie they were never going to watch plays in the background, but hopefully she won't come home early, so whatever.)
But anyway, she's standing there, grimacing at the most horrible purple and orange attire that she's sure should be illegal, when her mom comes walking in, humming a Christmas tune to herself. Santana barely pays attention to her, just allowing her eyes to flick up for a split second before she goes back to Kim Kardashian's outfit of the week and listens to her mom screwing up the tune to 'Have Yourself A Merry Little Christmas.'
"Do you really not have anything else you should be doing right now, mija?"
Santana shrugs pathetically, eyes never straying from the magazine. "Why? Am I disturbing you with the sound of pages turning?" She mumbles sarcastically, but her mom just throws her a look. "Fine," she huffs. "Well Britt's not here, I finished all my work last night, and it's after dark which means Patches and his friends come out, plus this place is a sh—hole," she quickly corrects when her mom arches a brow. "So, no, I really don't have anything else to do."
Maribel begins chuckling to herself, head shaking from side to side as she moves around the kitchen. "First of all, Patches and his friends are harmless, second, you could've spread your work out, and last, do you need Brittany to do something?"
"No," Santana answers absently, drumming her fingers against her chin as she flips over the page. "But everything's better when she's around so there's no point in trying to have fun if she's not here."
Her eyes goes back to the magazine, reading over the latest interview with Robert Pattinson about how much he hates Twilight or some shit whilst her mind wanders off into the world of Brittany. It's not a lie, she basically doesn't have any fun when Brittany isn't beside her and not because she's like, besotted with the girl (even though she kind of is) but because if Brittany isn'twith her, then she'll just be thinking about her and that'll take up her thoughts and make her smile idiotically without her even knowing.
It's kind of embarrassing, actually, especially when people ask her what the hell she's thinking after failing to snap her out of it after like, ten attempts of calling her name.
But the more she (doesn't) read the mag and think about her beautiful girlfriend, the more she's aware of how silent everything else is. And considering her mom was just doing something by the sink that sounded like she was bashing two pans together on purpose, that's pretty weird.
So, Santana finally tears her attention away and glances up, only to find her mom staring straight at her with a quirked eyebrow and a small smirk. She goes to frown, to furrow her brow at her mother and ask her why she's giving her that look, but then she finds herself smiling and ducks her head, cheeks flushing as she realizes she's just been caught grinning like an idiot. Shit.
See what she means?
"What?" She grunts, chin tucked to her chest and as she fails to wipe the smile off her face. Damn it. "Why are you looking at me like that?"
The smile on her moms face grows. "You really love her, don't you?" She asks, but it's not really a question and Santana can't help but grin.
Even now after being with Brittany for this long, she still feels like everyday is the best day of her life.
But she doesn't want to admit that. She knows she's whipped and hopeless, but she doesn't like vocalizing that, so he fakes a cough, clearing her throat and tries to minimize the smile as she looks back to the magazine again.
"Yeah," she admits, a little sheepishly. "I really do."
Faded brown eyes look over her for a few moments, she doesn't need to look at her mom to know it, she can feelthem, but she also knows by the length of time they look over her that her mom's debating whether to not to say something. Luckily though, Santana doesn't have to tell her to spit it or whatever, because her mom just goes back to washing the dishes in the sink and speaks at the same time.
"How long have you two been together?"
Santana looks to the ceiling, pretending like she's counting over in her mind but she already knows the answer. Saying one year, eight months, two weeks and a day would sound a little creepy, so she just goes for a simple answer. "Almost two years."
Over by the sink, Maribel puts the dishes down, spins around, leans against the counter and stares at Santana for a long moment. Staying silent, Santana just waits for her mom to say something more, maybe embarrass her a little more or ask about Brittany, but then, without another word, Maribel just walks out the room and Santana's left there, looking around a little confused. Do people just end conversations like that now?
A few minutes later, and a few more pages of useless information about attractive celebrities, Maribel walks back in, moving toward the kitchen island where Santana is and sliding something across to her. It takes a moment or two to switch her vision from the magazine to the object, and register what it is, but when she does, her back's as straight as a pole, eyes wide and breath hitched in her throat.
"Um, mom?" She stutters out, blinking at the object. "What the hell is this?"
Maribel smiles warmly at her, reaching over to settle a hand over hers. "I'm not saying you have to do it, or should do it, but mija," she pauses and tilts her head to the side, eyes soft. "I've never seen you this happy and you'd be a fool not to make sure she's yours forever."
Santana looks down at the small red velvet box at her mom's words, reaching over to stroke over the fabric but the second her fingertip touches it, she reels back instantly, eyes flickering up. "I don't need Brittany to marry me to know we're gonna be together."
"I know, and I'm not saying that," her mom says, nodding. "But there might come a time where you dowant to make that commitment, and this is just for then." She pulls back her hand and backs away, picking up the dish cloth from the counter but keeping her eyes on her daughter. "Just to have as a keep sake, even if you don't use it right away."
Staring at her mom, Santana's mind begins to wonder. She's never really thought about asking Brittany to marry her, she just kind of assumed they'd just be together. It's not like she doesn't believe in marriage because she gets that whole eternal commitment crap and why people do it, she just never thought about it for her. Having to give someone a ring, having to sign a piece of paper and having to announce your love to each other in front of a bunch of people, just to convince themselves and other people that they won't break up just seems a bit... Unnecessary.
You can love someone eternally and devote yourself to them wholly and irrevocably without doing any of that. You've just got to mean it.
Hell, she and Brittany have spoken about the future—not in terms of marriage, but in terms of what they want and where they'll be in ten years and such—and all of those conversations have ended with smiles, kisses and well, a lot of hot, emotional sex on any available horizontal surface.
But not even Brittany naked on her bed right now, begging for sex could get her to tell her mom that.
Still, in spite of her beliefs about the whole marriage thing, she can't help but focus on these little flutters inside her stomach at the image of rings, vowels and white dresses flashing through her mind.
"It's just been passed down through generations, Santana," her mom pipes up, breaking her from her thoughts. "So just take it and keep it. Just in case, okay?"
Sucking in her lips, Santana nods, but doesn't even have time to respond before the front door's opening and Brittany's voice is calling through the hallway. Seconds later, she appears in the kitchen, nose and ears pink from the cold, but eyes bright and sparkling as she shakes the white flecks from her jacket, grinning at Maribel and greeting her with a murmured "hey" before sliding up to Santana.
Except Santana's so caught up in her thoughts, of the sudden panic that Brittany might have overheard their conversation that she doesn't even notice Brittany's arms around her neck until a hushed "hey, baby" is whispered into her ear. But even then, her mind goes into panic overload and she hugs her girlfriend back, a little too tight as she spins them so Brittany's back is to the kitchen island where the red, velvet box was a second ago, fearing that it was in sight when the blonde came in.
Instead though, she just finds the island vacant of any box, of anything apart from the gossip mag Santana was flipping through and her eyes dart up to her mom, only to receive a wink and a nod toward the top of the fridge to where her mother just put the ring.
Breathing out a sigh of relief, she mouths "thank you" and buries her face into Brittany's neck, lips dusting over cold, pale skin until her mom tells them she's got some errands to run.
Even then, she just smiles into the kiss Brittany gives her, suddenly presented with the possibility of doing this in front a room full of people whilst they're both wearing white dresses, and she just knows in an instant that this marriage thing is going to play on her mind for days.
Brittany's already waiting in Lima bean when Santana gets there.
Santana shakes the snow from her hair, teeth chattering as she steps into the store. It's freaking freezingoutside and even though yeah, she's been in Lima when it's Winter, she swears she could be hanging coats over here 'cause it's getting colder. New York isn't exactly a huge improvement, but she kind of gets distracted by the lights and Christmas decorations spread out across the town that she barely really notices the cold.
Anyway, she steps inside and immediately spots Brittany over in the corner, sitting on one of the sofas facing the window. She's wearing a cream jumper and leggings, and Santana just takes a few seconds to look at her because her girlfriend seems to get even more beautiful everyday, even when she thought it wasn't possible. Two cups of coffee sit in front of Brittany on the coffee table, and Santana walks over, shivering as she pulls her coat apart and throws it over the back before settling down beside Brittany before she can get up to greet her.
"Hey, snowflake," Brittany chirps, wrapping an arm around Santana as she kisses her on the cheek. "You cold?"
Santana clamps her hands together and burrows into Brittany's body, tucked beneath her shoulder. One of the best things about Winter is that Brittany's always so warm, and Santana's always so cold and so on those chilly, chilly nights, it's just another excuse to cuddle up to her. Not that she really needs one but in Winter, Brittany's always the big spoon and Santana feels all fluffy inside when they go to bed and two seconds after she gets into bed, the bed dips and a warm arm winds around her waist, pulling her against the warmth of Brittany's body.
"I'm freaking freezing out there," she gets out through chattering teeth.
Brittany laughs into her hair as she drops a kiss to it. "It is December, San."
Santana turns her head, flashing a playful glare as she presses her lips to pale skin before sitting up and reaching for her coffee. "Still, it's fucking freezing," she points out, sipping on her coffee and moaning lowly as the liquid settles in her stomach. She twists her neck to look back at Brittany. "How are you not cold?"
"I'm just cuddly and warm," Brittany grins back, her eyes flickering to the coffee. "Is that good?"
"Amazing. What did you get?"
She sits forward too, reaching out to grab her coffee. "Cinnamon latte with cream."
"Is it good?"
Brittany holds out the mug. "Try some," she offers with a sweet smile, but Santana just grins, gently pushing the mug away as she presses their lips together, sliding her tongue along the underside of Brittany's lips and pulling back with a smirk, nodding at the flavor of Brittany and the coffee on her tongue.
"You're right, it is good," she winks and Brittany's ears turn pink as she giggles, sitting back against the sofa cushions, still cradling the mug between her hands as she sips on it.
And Santana just finds herself watching her. She doesn't know why, and it's not like it's uncommon for her to just take a few seconds to look at Brittany because sometimes it's hard not to; she's just that beautiful. But this time it feels different, it is different because thoughts about what her mom said last night are running through her mind. They've pretty much been constantly bobbing around in there, but now it feels like they're more intense because all she can think about is how amazing it'd look if Brittany had a ring on her finger right now. The one wrapped around the coffee cup she's pulling to her lips.
In fact, she's so busy staring that she doesn't even notice Brittany looking right back at her until she giggles, sucks in her lips and blinks, confused.
Santana shakes her head, coming out from the daze. "What?"
Brittany looks up through her eyelashes, almost shyly. "You were staring," she says and Santana smiles. "Do I have something on my face?"
"Well, yeah," Santana points out, reaching over to wipe her thumb over the corner of Brittany's whipped cream mustache but that just leaves the rest of it. She shrugs to herself, quickly looking around and leans in to suck on Brittany's top lip, wiping the rest of the cream off, too. "But I didn't even notice," she murmurs against her mouth when she pulls back. "You're just kind of pretty."
Brittany's face contorts with amusement. "Kind of pretty? How charming, San."
"Shut up," she retorts, rolling her eyes and sipping on her coffee. "You're very pretty—drop dead gorgeous, in fact—but you know that."
"No, I don't." Brittany's voice is all innocent and Santana grins.
"Just drink your coffee, Pierce."
Brittany giggles and kisses her on the cheek before settling into her side, snuggling down. She throws an arm around, pulling her close and balances her cup of coffee on her thigh as they stare out the frosted window, silence settling between them.
"Do you not think it's weird?"
Santana cocks her head. "What?"
"Coffee," Brittany elaborates, raising her cup into the air.
She's said weirder things, but this is climbing to the top and so Santana bites the bait anyway. "How?"
Brittany twists a little, resting her temple on Santana's bicep to look up at her. "Like... it brought us together."
"Britt, awful timings, missed trains and someonepretending they had to take the train brought us together."
Blue eyes roll but there's a smile on her face. "It was a mix of both," she compromises. "And if I hadn't pretended then we wouldn't be here today," she tells her and okay, she has a point. "But still, if you hadn't bought me coffee on that last train before our first date then I wouldn't have known you were into me." She cocks a brow and gives a cheeky smile. "Therefore, coffee is like our cupid."
Santana grins. "And missed trains."
"Fine. Missed trains, too, but we're not in a subway station, we're in a coffee house and I'm trying to be cute." Brittany raises both eyebrows and smiles. "Okay?"
"I love you," Santana chuckles as she leans forward, pressing a soft kiss to her girlfriends forehead, her heart swooping with love and adoration for this girl. "And you're cute all the time, Britt."
"Anyway," Brittany continues, sitting up a little more. "I'm just pointing out that it's nice." She shrugs. "We both liked coffee back then—"
"Despite it being the world's worst coffee."
"—Yeah, despite that, but we both liked it, and we like it now, and we're having it now." She pauses for a long while, just staring at Santana. "I just think it's cute."
There must be some type of Brittany logic in there, something that currently, Santana can't really figure out, but she just stares back, blinking until laughter bubbles up her throat and comes out, forcing her head back. Her nose scrunches up and she has this overwhelming urge to just drop kisses all over Brittany's face because sometimes she's just too fucking much for Santana to handle. She's just amazing, in every single way.
"You're too adorable, you know that?"
Brittany glares playfully, but then her face splits into a grin. "Yeah," she nods. "I do."
Swatting her arm, Santana giggles before pulling them closer. Neither of them need to carry on the conversation and they both just watch the snow fall outside, listen to the hum of a Christmas song playing overhead and snuggle deeper into each other as they sip on their coffee. It really is these moments that Santana appreciates. They rarely ever get a weekend where they can just focus on being together and that's it. Santana has work at the firm, Brittany has work at the news studio, and most of the time when they come back home, they just fall asleep before the other gets back, or barely cram in dinner together before admitting they're too tired and heading off to bed.
It's hard, but Santana knows it's just life. It'll settle down at some point, and they both have Sunday and Wednesdays off so that's a bonus, too.
Beside her, Brittany sighs and shuffles closer, leaning her head against Santana's shoulder. "I could just stay here forever."
Santana chuckles. "You'd probably get a bit sick of coffee," she jokes and Brittany laughs, nuzzling further into her.
"No, I mean in Lima."
Totally not expecting that, Santana pulls back in shock and jerks her neck back, staring down at the other girl. "You don't like New York?"
"I do," Brittany corrects but then shrugs and Santana narrows her eyes, confused. "It's just this type of place is nice. It's a small town, somewhere away from the big city lights."
"Which is exactly why I moved away from here."
"Yeah, but... I don't know," blue eyes drop as a strong hand begin toying with the hem of Santana's cardigan. "This place is homey, you know? It's like, where you grew up."
Even though she's still pretty confused, Santana nods, thinking that yeah, when she was here, actually it was kind of nice. Sure it's like in the middle of nowhere, and it's just so suburban, filled with moms driving their kids around in Volvo's but it's nice if that's what you wan—Oh.
Her eyes widen as she goes through Brittany's words again, and studies the way Brittany's biting her lips, eyes flicking up every now and then nervously like she's waiting for it to sink in, waiting for Santana to reply. And it's only when she looks at her, thinks thoroughly about the words, that she gets it. Brittany's not commenting on small sounds in general, she's just commenting on Lima. A place where Santana was raised and a place that's warm, comforting and has the 'home' feel to it. It's somewhere where it'd be nice to raise a family, and it's like she's subtly suggesting to Santana that this is the kind of place she'd like to move in the future. That this is the place where she wants her and Santana to maybe have that future.
"You like it here?" She manages to get out, a little stuttered. "Like, for a home?"
Brittany chews on her lip for a long few seconds before replying, "Maybe," she shrugs. "I mean... Not now, but... If we ever..." she trails off but Santana knows exactly what she's saying.
"If we ever start... a family?"
Blue eyes drift up, but they're wary, almost like Brittany's fearing Santana's reaction. "Well, yeah." She lifts a shoulder. "I mean, like I said, in the future, but... This would be a nice place." She looks at her. "And you'd have your mom here as a bonus, too, so we'd have more family than just ours."
Santana's jaw drops as she listens to her girlfriends words. It sounds bad, but she'd never really thought that far into the future. Hell, even before this weekend she hadn't even considered marrying Brittany, and she was only kicked into gear when her mom gave her a damn ring and said to just keep it safe, just in case. Yet it seems that she's the only one who's been this this during their relationship because Brittany's clearly put thought into this. It's pretty obvious, just by the certainty in her voice, that she wants to be with Santana forever, that she wants to marry Santana and have kids with her, and along with her words, she's like, one hundred percent set on it.
And whereas if Santana ever imagined having this conversation with Brittany, she could see herself freaking the fuck out, maybe standing up and walking away because all this talk of the future was kind of scaring her, right now, she finds herself just thinking about it completely seriously. She's actually considering this, and she's about to smile at the imagine of a cute little suburban house, half hers, half Brittany's, filled with two kids, a dog, a cat (for Brittany, obviously) and maybe even a hamster for their children. She can just imagine it, and the smile is soclose to coming through, but then Brittany says something and Santana's thoughts and actions are put to an abrupt halt.
"But, we're not even getting married, so this is stupid," Brittany shakes it off, blinking away and shaking her head like Santana just rejected her. "Sorry, I didn't mean to freak you out or anything," she says and Santana can't do anything but stare. She's not freaked out, but clearly her body's betraying her feelings. "We should get going anyway," Brittany continues, patting Santana's leg gently. "Your mom's cooking us dinner, but I've got to pee so I'll be back soon."
With a kiss on the cheek, Brittany disappears into the back of Lima Bean and Santana's just left there with all these thoughts and emotions to dwell over.
The taxi's all packed up and ready to leave for the airport on Sunday evening.
Santana's just finishing applying some lip gloss in her bedroom when Brittany skips in, grinning widely and coming up behind her, hands falling to her waist and lips presses against her neck.
"Britt," she warns, dipping the wand back into the gloss and twisting it back up, shoving it in her pocket. "Stop."
Brittany's lips curve into a smirk against her skin, eyes flicking up to meet dark ones through the mirror. "What?" She bats her lashes, innocently. "I'm not doing anything."
Santana raises a brow as warm fingers slide beneath the hem of her shirt, skirting across soft skin. "You know exactly what you're doing."
The kisses get a little firmer and she finds herself tilting her head to the side as a hand pushes away the hair, a giggle flowing to her ear. The kisses drift from her shoulder up her neck and to the spot behind her earlobe that make her toes curl and body flush with heat, and she sighs as her eyes begin to flutter. But they don't have time for this. Her mom's downstairs, the bedroom door is open and the taxi is outside, waiting, and she'll be damned if they lose all their clothes just because Brittany wanted to have a quickie before they left.
"We do—don't have time," she tries, but her fight fails when she moans at the tongue flicking at her earlobe. "The taxi—taxi is... It's... Already here."
Brittany giggles throatily—naughtily—against her ear and slides her hands beneath the hem of Santana's shirt, palms grazing around hips to toned abs, nails scratching lightly across the skin. It makes all resolve Santana has not to do this almost fly straight out the window, but then she thinks about how her mom's not an idiot, has ears, and quite possibly could walk up the stairs, and how there's a rather questionable taxi waiting outside, an Indian man sitting there, reading through a book whilst chewing on a cocktail stick, and he's probably notgoing to want to wait forever just because they couldn't keep it in their pants.
"But, San," Brittany whines, lowly in her ear. "We haven't had sex in here, yet," she looks to the mirror again, stopping her kisses and pouts.
And well, that sort of blows all Santana's reasons for not doing it straight out the window.
She turns around, shakes her head and laughs as her hands slide around Brittany's neck, bringing their lips together. "Fine, but you're coming up with an explanation why we kept the taxi waiting," she mumbles against her mouth and Brittany just nods as she pushes Santana back toward the bed, promptly straddling her and kissing her again with a smile.
Ten minutes and a quickie later, they both stumble down the stairs, readjusting their clothing and hair after Santana's mom called up to them.
"Uh, hey," Santana mumbles, smoothing down her hair. "Sorry, I just, uh, needed to put some lip gloss on."
Maribel's standing at the front door, lips pressed together, eyebrow arched in true Santana fashion and arms crossed over her chest as they reach the bottom step, both of them hiding their smiles and bumping their arms together.
"Does lip gloss really take thatlong to put on?" She shots back. "And does it take two people nowadays?"
Santana's been caught in this situation before, which is why she's a champ at keeping a straight face and nodding like it's the truth. Except last time when she was caught in this situation, she didn't have Brittany as her companion. But now she does, and now Brittany's ducking her head to her chest guiltily and trying to hide the fact that her ears have gone a bright pink, the same as her cheeks, and well, Santana can't really keep the lie going whilst Brittany's quite obviously giving it away.
Maribel clucks her tongue but when Santana looks up, she sees a grin and instantly becomes confused. She knows she's a grown woman and everything, but she was sort of expecting to be told off for what they've just done. After all, they have kept the taxi waiting and Maribel raised Santana with good manners so she knows it's kind of rude, as well as it's definitely taking advantage of a taxi driver that will wait.
"Young love," Maribel sighs. "But you two should get going now. I had to give the driver a sandwich and a thermos of coffee to keep him happy whilst he was waiting," she looks pointedly between them.
They both nod and Santana opens her arms to hug her mom, but her mom goes for Brittany first, tugging her into a tight embrace. Brittany hugs back with an equal amount of enthusiasm, muttering "thank you for having me" whilst Maribel tells her "don't be silly, you're welcome here any time" and it just makes Santana smile. She really has found the best girl in the world, and when she hugs her mom goodbye, her mom makes a point of telling her that she should keep it that way.
Brittany's already stepping out and bouncing toward the taxi driver, leaning down against his window to talk to him. She's probably flirting a little too, and usually it'd bother Santana, but she knows it's all for good reasons; Brittany's only doing it to make sure they don't get charged an offensive amount of money for their ride, and so for now, it's okay. Ish.
"You better not forget me, mija," Maribel says and Santana chuckles, turning back to her.
"Never, ma," she wraps her arms around her mom and breathes in her scent. "Love you."
"Love you too, Santana," Maribel replies, pulling back and urging her out the door. "Now go before Brittany has to flash the driver to get a discount."
A scowl instantly flashes across Santana's face and even though she knows it's just a joke, now she's getting all defensive and protective. Okay, maybe flirting with the taxi driver wasn't a good idea. Without another word, she smiles at her mom and sticks her hands in her pockets and moves to jog down the path but she hears her mom call her name and looks back to her.
"Remember about the keep sake," her mom says and then nods at the taxi. "Now go!" She half yells and even though Santana's a little caught off guard because she sort of forgot that there's an engagement ring in the bottom of her luggage, she still jogs down the pathway toward the taxi, sliding in next to Brittany and shooting a narrowed glare at the driver as he leers at her girlfriend through the rear view mirror.
But the words are still in her mind, looping over and over as Brittany shifts, leaning her head against her shoulder as the cab peels away from the curb.
And now, Santana's starting to seriously consider using the thing at the bottom of her suitcase.
It's another bitterly cold day in New York and they've both got the day off which means lazing around together; something they rarely do anymore.
They're both on the sofa, and Santana's lying along the length of the couch, back propped against the arm with her feet on Brittany's lap as she's sat down the other end. There's a laptop resting on her thighs, and she knows she shouldn't really be doing work because they've got a day off together, but there's this case that she's got to go to court for in a few weeks and she really needs to catch up on a few things seeing as she didn't do half as much work as she should've last week due to spending
Pale hands rub at her feet, smoothing over the arches of them and kneading them gently and Santana sighs at the feeling, looking up from the screen to find Brittany unaware of what she's doing as she scrunches up her face and laughs at something on the television. Something deep inside Santana flutters at the image, and she just takes a few seconds to watch her girlfriend, letting her eyes roam over the sharp ledge of Brittany's jaw, the shape of her lips and up over her cheekbones and down her nose. Brittany really is the most beautiful woman she's ever laid eyes on, and she's perfect in every other way possible too and every damn day, Santana wonders how she could've gotten this damn lucky to be chosen by such an angel.
Somehow that thought leads her to the ring she has stashed away beneath the loose board in her bedside table and she starts contemplating that hypothetically, ifshe were going to do it, how she would. She knows Brittany wouldn't want an expensive dinner, champagne and a ring in the bottom of the glass because Santana distinctly remembers how her girlfriend had wrinkled her nose at that method in a film they once watched, then proceeded to rant about it for the next half an hour since apparently proposals are supposed to be personal. Doing it in front of a crowd full of people in a too-expensive restaurant is just tacky apparently, just like doing it at a Knicks game on the big screen is too and so that sort of thins down Santana's options here.
So she just sits there, staring at her girlfriend and tilting her head from side to side as each possibility of how she would do it—if she were—and gets stuck and frustrated. There are so many ways to do it and Santana knows being personal is key, but she doesn't know how she can make it personal andamazing. Not that she's going to do it, but she's just saying if she were it would require a lot of thought and she isn't exactly the most patient or creative of people, nor could she steal an idea from a film or a book either because the chances are Brittany would know or there's a risk of her finding out one day and that'd make Santana look super lame.
For fuck sake. She almost regrets going to visit her mom now. She has all these damn thoughts in her mind and no-one to talk to them about. She can't risk telling someone that she's considering proposing to Brittany because then all the pressure will be laid on her and people will bug her until she does it and so forth; it would just get annoying and stressful and she's stressed enough just freaking thinking about popping the question so talking it out with someone isn't an option.
Which basically means she's just fucking stuck in her own head with these thoughts bumping around inside her brain. Fucking brilliant.
Santana blinks, snapping out of her thoughts. She looks up to find smiling blue eyes staring back at her and ducks her head, blushing that she was caught staring. "Sorry," she mumbles. "I was caught up in my head."
A hand strokes up her leg, over her knee. "What were you thinking about?" Brittany asks softly, urging Santana's eyes back up with a light scratch of her nails again flannel pajama pants. "You were pretty gone."
"Nothing," Santana shoots back, a little too fast. "I mean, I was just thinking about random stuff."
Brittany looks at her skeptically. "Like what?"
Inside, Santana begins to panic. "Erm, just like, what we're going to do for New Years and what we're going to have for dinner tonight."
Blue eyes narrow but after a long second, Brittany nods, seemingly believing the lie. "Right, okay," she draws out, tapping Santana's leg. Her face brightens up immediately shortly after and Santana furrows her brow, unsure as to what the grin is for.
"Why are you grinning like you're up to something?"
Brittany giggles throatily—naughtily—and Santana feels the sound shoot straight between her legs, creating warmth low in her belly. She raises a brow, smirking at the way Brittany looks over her like she's staring at a delicious meal and isn't sure where to start, and slowly, Brittany shifts, grabbing Santana's legs, tugs them until Santana's lying down and finally hooks them behind her as she climbs over Santana, knees pressing into the cushions either side of Santana's hips. Tanned hands instantly shoot to slim hips, and Santana rolls her body up, the smirk growing across her face as her girlfriend moans a little, dropping to her elbows either side of Santana's head and bumping their noses together.
"I amup to something," Brittany finally answers, pressing her hips down and hissing when one of Santana's hands drifts around to her ass.
"And what's that?" Santana asks coyly, like she doesn't already know by the way her fingers are coming around to the thighs either side of her hips and sliding up dangerously high until Brittany's spine buckles and she presses into her.
"I've just decided what I want for dinner."
A perfectly shaped eyebrows lifts and Santana smirks, already craning her neck and teasing their lips together as she whispers, "And what's that?" against Brittany's mouth.
Brittany pushes her down again with a kiss, hands tangling into dark hair as her tongue slides across Santana's lips. "You," she mumbles.
Santana just giggles and presses a palm flat to her girlfriends abs, sliding it down and beneath waistbands until her fingers touch slick, hot flesh.
It's not until later on, when Santana's got two fingers buried inside her girlfriend and can feel the muscles clenching around her digits as nails scratch against her scalp that the thoughts of proposing and how to do it comes back.
She looks down at her girlfriend, all swollen pink lips, tousled blonde hair and dark blue eyes and realizes that she wouldn't be here, that she wouldn't be able to do this, if it weren't for a cup of coffee and her awful timing. It makes something click inside of her, and she works her hand a little faster, pressing the back of Brittany's hand harder into pillow beside blonde hair and stares in awe as Brittany comes hard, moaning Santana's name and snapping her head back as her hips lift.
It's a thing of beauty, and Santana forgets all about the throbbing between her legs as Brittany pulls her down for a kiss, lazily stroking her tongue into her mouth and making brown eyes roll into the back of her head because she realizes in this moment, that there's nothing more that she wants than Brittany. Forever. Always. Eternally. Irrevocably. She just wants her and when Brittany's lips stretch into a grin beneath her lips, Santana finds herself wanting to reach over into the bedside table, press down on the loose board at the bottom of the top drawer and give the ring hiding beneath it to Brittany with the question that's been playing on her mind all week.
But then Brittany's using the strength Santana always forgets she has and flips them, sucking on Santana's bottom lip then breaking, smirking down at her as she begins kissing down her jaw, neck, and then down her body, finally stopping as she presses a wet kiss between Santana's legs.
And really, it's kind of hard to think about anything else when Brittany's tongue is stroking through her.
So she doesn't.
Watching Brittany sleep has become one of her top five favorite things to do.
(The other four include Brittany too, but that's beside the point.)
So anyway, she's lying here in bed beside her girlfriend (after they ate their Chinese and decided to have an early night which turned into two more rounds of sex) barely running the tips of her fingers over Brittany's face when she begins thinking about itagain. Earlier when she was hovering above Brittany, she knew she wanted to do it, and as she lies here, she wonders whether it was just the sex getting to her head, but that's not it.
It can't be because she's not having sex with her girlfriend right now and those exact same thoughts are still spinning and twirling around in the back of her mind.
Brittany stirs, shifts across the bed and mutters something unintelligible as she tucks her chin beneath Santana's neck, hand winding around her waist and pulling her closer, and it's at that moment when her girlfriend nuzzles into her that Santana realizes she does want to marry this girl, and that she wants to do it soon.
She hates it when her mom's right.
She wakes to the smell of pancakes and bacon in the morning, and that only adds to the smile already on her face. It takes her a full thirty seconds to actually open her eyes after waking, and when she does she rubs at her eyes, trying not to wince at the sunlight filtering in through the blinds and inwardly cursing herself for not shutting them last night. Although she was a little preoccupied with the way Brittany's tongue was flicking against the roof of her mouth so maybe it's not so bad.
Her limbs fling out everywhere and she shifts further into the middle of the bed, stretching out the kinks in her muscles and yawning at the same time, wetting her lips when she's finished. She doesn't move to get up, or even start to think about it, because she's just lying there, smiling to herself at the decision she made last night. She's actually going to ask Brittany to marry her.
Shit. That even feels good to think.
Taking in a deep breath, she rolls her head to the side and smiles into the pillow, instantly smelling the lingering scent of Brittany on there and smiling a little bit more. Honestly, she's so pathetic right now; she's lying in her bedroom alone, grinning like a total idiot at the thought of popping the question to the most amazing woman on the planet and listening to the low hum of said woman in the kitchen, most probably wiggling her ass to her own tune and shit, she couldn't be any fucking happier.
That thought does give her some motivation to actually get her ass out of bed because seeing Brittany dance is one of the most adorable things in the entire world, but then she hears the familiar sound of feet padding down the hallway and knows there's no point in even getting up now because a second later, Brittany's bouncing through the door and climbing onto the bed, dropping down astride Santana's pelvis, smiling down at her.
"Good morning gorgeous girlfriend," she chirps, her hands reaching to grab Santana's and lace their fingers together, resting it atop Santana's stomach.
Santana chuckles lightly. "This isa good morning," she replies, tugging Brittany down by her hands until they're kissing slowly, lazily, the best way morning kisses are.
"I made us breakfast," Brittany mumbles against her mouth, pecking small kisses against her lips until Santana's forced to untangle one hand and grab the back of her girlfriend's neck to kiss her properly. She moans against her mouth, humming at the taste of warm coffee on Brittany's tongue and pulls back after a long moment, a dopey smile now playing on her lips as her hand drifts down to Brittany's ribs and sneaks beneath the hem of her top, touching soft, warm skin.
"What's the special occasion?"
Brittany leans down, kisses her again quickly. "Just that I love you and you've got to go to work in an hour."
Santana groans, suddenly remembering how much work she has to do. Training to be a damn lawyer was hard enough, but shit, she thought at least it would get easier after completely law school and the BAR exam. Apparently not though, and she retracts her hand, flinging her arm over her face because now she knows why Brittany's cooking her breakfast. She fucking hates cases like this because she knows the douche she's supposed to be defending is the one that committed the crime, yet she's still supposed to defend his ass like he's fucking innocent.
"San," Brittany pulls her from her thoughts with a soft call of her name. "San, baby, come on and get up. We've gotta eat and have a shower together."
Santana instantly perks up, shifting her arm and peeking out from beneath it with one eye. "A shower together?"
Brittany hums in confirmation, nodding slowly and Santana suddenly feels a hell of a lot happier about the day to come. So what if she has a douche to defend, she's got the most amazing girlfriend and at some point in the next few days, she's going to propose to her and as soon as possible they'll get married, then spend the rest of their lives together and have loads of cute blonde haired, brown eyed babies together, too. Nothing sounds better than that.
So she lets Brittany climb off her and then grab her hand and drag her out of bed. She quickly slips on a hoodie and some pajama pants on the way, and takes Brittany's hand again as the blonde guides them into the kitchen, smiling over her shoulder. They eat breakfast together and giggle as they catch each other staring, and then afterward when Brittany's putting the dishes and pan in the sink, Santana comes up behind her and sweeps across her hair, her hips molding into the curve of Brittany's as as her lips trail soft kisses up and down her girlfriend's shoulder and neck, her hands gliding across the flat of her stomach.
"San," the blonde girl moans, tilting her head to the side and leaning back into the touch. "You've now got half an hour to get ready," she says, spinning in Santana's arms and looping her arms around her neck. "We don't have time for this so go get changed and we'll pick up where we left off when you get back."
She kisses her quickly and turns back around, but Santana's not having it and steps forward again with a mischievous grin, her hand sliding down from Brittany's abs and dipping below the waistband of her sleep shorts, fingers sliding through slick heat, feeling the way Brittany buckles beneath her touch. But Santana's right there, her free arm wrapping around her girlfriend's waist to steady her as she works her fingers in tight circles, winding her girlfriend up until a pale hand snaps to hers, guiding her further so she can push two digits inside her girlfriend whilst her palm continues her ministrations.
It's over hot and fast, Brittany groaning, moaning into the air and shuddering as her orgasm punches through her and Santana smirking against her neck, her fingers slowing until she pulls her hand free, wiping them on the inside of Brittany's sleep shorts. With one final kiss to Brittany's neck, she steps back, leans against the counter behind her and grins when the blonde girl slumps forward, breathing hard and pinching her thighs together.
"You alright there, Britt Britt?" She coos, knowing exactly what she's doing.
Brittany peers over her shoulder, her eyes dark and pupils dilated and Santana gulps at the sight. Damn. That look will never make her fail to go weak at the knees.
"That wasn't fair," the blonde girl says, slowly standing and walking toward Santana, her fingers hooking into the waistband of her sweatpants and tugging forward until they're flush against one another. She presses their lips together immediately, sucking Santana's bottom between her own and flicking her tongue against it and Santana groans, knowing that as much as she'd like to continue doing this, she actually does have to go to work and even though they could probably fit in one round with the twenty two minutes they have, her boss is going to be pissedif she's late.
"Babe," she manages to get out around Brittany's mouth. "Babe, I gotta—" her words are swiftly cut off. She's never been good at arguing with her girlfriend, or getting her to stop whatever she's doing, but it's especially hard when Brittany's tongue is in her mouth and fuck, she really could just stay here all day. "Britt," she whines and Brittany smiles into the kiss, but it breaks when she begins giggling at the sound of Santana's whining, pulling back but keeping their faces close. "I've gotta go," Santana continues, pouting.
Brittany leans in and sucks on her bottom lip, quickly transforming the pout into a smile. "I know," she says, stroking her nose against Santana's. "But we willcarry on where we left off later," her voice deeps into a deep, seductive tone and Santana has to pinch her thighs together to relieve some of the throbbing building between them. "Now go," she continues, pecking Santana on the lips one last time and smacking her on the ass as she spins away to do the dishes.
And as Santana (reluctantly) walks back to the bedroom, she knows that she can't possibly wait any longer to marry that girl.
She's going to do it tonight.
Everything's in order by the time she gets home.
She's sorted out how she's going to do it, and what she's going to say... as long as everything goes according to plan.
She's physically shaking with nerves by the time she steps into the elevator later that night, clutching two cups of coffee (the awful stuff from the vendor by the subway down the street and the stuff that kind of brought them together) in hand and watches as the numbers of the floors go up in neon lights across from her. She leans against the back wall of the cart, resting her head against it and takes in deep, steady breaths, reassuring herself that this is going to go well because she knows Brittany wants to spend the rest of their lives together just as she does. She knows that, but it doesn't stop her from being really freaking nervous.
Like damn, she's about to fucking propose.
The doors ding open and she steps out into the hallway, trying to regulate her heart beat because she knows Brittany always cuddles her close before she begins heading down to their apartment. With difficulty, she shuffles the cups of coffee in hand and slips her key into the lock, nudging the door open with her foot as she slips her keys bag inside her purse and heads in, eyes flitting around to find her tall, gorgeous girlfriend.
And just as expected, Brittany's there, sitting on the couch with her glasses on, hair tied up into a messy pony and laptop on her legs. She's been working so hard lately to get her degree in journalism and Santana just stands in the open doorway, staring at her for a bit because she rarely gets to see Brittany like this. So concentrated on something. Really, it's fucking adorable and Santana smiles to herself before she kicks the door shut behind her and her blonde girlfriend snaps her head around, blue eyes going wide as they land on her.
"Jesus, you scared me," Brittany says, moving her laptop off her legs and climbing off the couch to come toward Santana. "I didn't hear you come in," she adds when they're in front of each other, pale hands setting Santana's hips.
She just grins at her. "That's fine," she mutters but observes the way blue eyes flicker down to the coffee cups in hand and how fair eyebrows scrunch together. "And this looks weird but it isn't."
"Why did you bring home coffee?" Brittany draws out, looking up through her glasses and tugging on the hem of Santana's jacket. "We have a coffee maker, San."
Santana chuckles and leans in, pouting her lips for a kiss that her girlfriend gladly gives after giggling a little. "I know," she says and they both move back to the living room. "But I just thought it'd be nice."
She hands over one of the cups to Brittany and sets her own down, shrugging off her jacket and shoes before taking a seat next to her girlfriend. Brittany takes the lid off and blows the steam away through pursed lips, and Santana just watches in amazement like she did the first time Brittany ever did that, on their very first date. And it still astonishes her because their first date wasn't at a fancy restaurant or anything, it was walking through Central Park with both of them sipping from their own cups of the world's most disgusting coffee which was basically freaking cold. But it didn't matter because it may not have been fancy, or special, or expensive, but it was the best first date... ever.
And now, sitting here, thinking about how far they've come since then, Santana doesn't feel nervous anymore.
But she's got at least three quarters of a cup of coffee to go, so she'll just have to wait.
They sit on the sofa, talking about their day, holding hands and sipping on the crap coffee for ten minutes before Santana realizes she's missing something.
So she quickly excuses herself from the conversation, leaning in and pressing her lips to Brittany's before jumping up from the sofa and heading into their bedroom, pushing down on the loose bottom board of the top drawer of their bedside table and grabbing the box inside. She stands there for a full three minutes and fifty four seconds, just stroking the pads of her fingers over the box and contemplating what she's about to do before she decides to head back in there, the question ready on the tip of her tongue.
Though when she gets back in there, Brittany's cup of coffee is sitting on the coffee table beside Santana's and she's just watching the television, completely casually, and it strikes Santana very odd because there was something very specific at the bottom of that cup. Something that should have Brittany staring and blinking down at it in disbelief.
"Uh, Britt?" She calls out, her voice a little croaky as she makes her way back to the sofa, setting down gingerly on the edge of it. "Did you finish your coffee?"
Brittany looks to her, reaching over to take her hand. "No, I didn't," she answers honestly and Santana's eyes widen. Shit! Plan's failing. Repeat, plan is failing!"I want an early night and it started tasting little gross at the bottom," she continues, scrunching her nose up in disgust. "But thank you, baby. It was a nice little reminder of us," she adds and presses her lips to the back of Santana's hand before tugging her over until they're cuddling, Brittany buried beneath Santana's chin, arm wrapped around her waist.
But shit, that's totally not what was supposed to happen. The plan is notgoing the way it was supposed to and Santana's so very aware of the box she has in her pocket and how close Brittany's hand is to it. It hasn't worked and now she doesn't know what to do.
"Uh, I think you should finish it up," she tries. "Want not, waste not," she says through a chuckle and inwardly face palms herself for being so damn lame. She couldn't have thought of a better excuse, could she?
Brittany pulls back, her eyebrows knitting together. "Why are you being weird?" She asks with a smile.
"I'm not," Santana fires back, too quickly for it to be the truth. "I just, uh—don't think you should waste it."
"San, there's like..." Blue eyes slide to the coffee and with the light of the television behind it, they can both see the miniscule amount left in the bottom. "Nothing left," Brittany points out, meeting Santana's eyes again.
"I know, but can you just," she squeezes her eyes shut and tries to think of a way out of this because right now she's freaking panicking and she doesn't know what to do. Why couldn't Brittany have drunk all the coffee and played with the empty cup like she always does? Why did it have to be now that she didn't feel like finishing it. Fuck! "Can you just finish it, please?"
Blue eyes roam over her face for a long moment. "Are you feeling okay?" Brittany inquires, lifting a hand and pressing it to Santana's forehead. Santana nods swiftly, taking the hand from her face and clutching it tightly on her own. Dammit. She can feel her hand shaking. "Baby, you're shaking," the blonde continues, concern etching across her features. "Do you need some Advil or something?"
Santana gulps and shakes her head. Actually, she could do with a shot or two to calm her nerves. "No, Britt, I'm fine. But please... just finish the coffee."
She stares into Brittany's eyes, trying to convey that she really does needher to finish it and it must be either in that look, or the way that she's being annoyingly persistent about drinking the rest of this damn coffee because Brittany does it, sitting up and away from Santana to grab her coffee and tip the remains back. A grimace comes across her face as she swallows and Santana watches in slow motion as blue eyes flicker down, narrowing as they catch something in the bottom of the cup and well, it's show time.
By the time Brittany processes actually whatis written down there, her eyes are comically wide and her mouth is dropped open so far that Santana could probably see down her throat. But she can't because now, as Brittany looks to her, Santana's kneeling on the floor by Brittany's leg, on one knee with her eyes sincere and loving as she holds up the box in one hand, the fingers of the other pinching the lid of it, not yet showing the diamond ring inside.
And shit, she damn near dies of anxiety as Brittany takes in the sight of the red velvet box.
"Brittany Susan Pierce," she forces out, wetting her lips because damn, her throat is so freaking dry. "I did have a whole speech planned," she starts and Brittany's just sitting there, hands clutching at the edge of the sofa and body unmoving as she lets her eyes dart between the box and Santana. "But I'm so nervous I've actually forgotten it, so I'm just going to go with what I know and say that I love you, more than life itself, and I want to spend the rest of my life with you."
Slowly, she peels open the box to reveal the diamond ring inside and Brittany's eyes—if possible—grow even wider, the sheer shock of this moment reflecting in her features.
"So what I'm trying to ask you is, will you marry me, Britt?"
And it feels like hours before she replies, hours of Santana kneeling there, about to hear the answer to whether she's going to die of rejection or die of happiness, but then Brittany's face lights up, splitting into the widest grin Santana's ever seen and Brittany's nodding rapidly, tears of joy spilling from her eyes.
"Yes," Brittany whispers through a slight chuckle, her voice laced with nothing but utter happiness. "Yes, Santana, I'll marry you."
Santana's entire body explodes in that moment with excitement and joy and happiness and every other positive emotion and she tries to celebrate or get out the words HOLY SHIT I'M THE LUCKIEST GIRL ALIVEbut then Brittany's offering out her left hand and Santana kicks herself into action, pinching the ring between her fingers and pulling it free from the box, sliding it up Brittany's ring finger and holding her hand, eyes taking in the sight before her.
She glances up, disbelief running through her because there's no way in hell Brittany, the woman of her dreams, just accepted her marriage proposal. "You'll marry me?" She asks, her eyes glossing over.
Brittany just nods again with the same excited smile and Santana, not able to trust her voice to form words over the lump in her throat, just grins idiotically, feeling like a total incoherent idiot and stares at her girlfriend—no, wait, her fiancee—as they both take in this feeling. But then Brittany's grinning even wider, it more infectious now and she's leaping toward Santana off the sofa, tackling her to the floor with a dull thump and pressing their lips together, her hands—one with a freaking engagement ring on—coming up to Santana's hair and tangling there to secure the kiss.
It takes a few seconds to kiss back because Santana's still in surprise, but then she moans against Brittany's mouth a the feel of her body pressed against hers and her hands are coming up to Brittany's sides, stroking beneath the hem of her shirt and over smooth warm skin as she marvels in knowing that thisis what she's going to have for the rest of her life.
And God, she honestly can't think of anything better.
It took five days after getting the ring from her mom for Santana to propose to Brittany.
It only took a day after Brittany accepting it, for them to tell everyone about it.
Then it took months and months to plan and prepare one of the best days they'd ever have.
And eleven months, three weeks and six days after the proposal, they were pronounced Santana and Brittany Lopez-Pierce.