Home Is Where The Heart Is
Santana/Brittany, NC-17, 5.8k
She leans against the wall of her shower, out from beneath the spray of the water and waits for it to warm up as she sighs and shakes her head at her own thoughts. Showers at Brittany's are so much better.
She leans against the wall of her shower, out from beneath the spray of the water and waits for it to warm up as she sighs and shakes her head at her own thoughts. Showers at Brittany's are so much better.
June 2019
Santana and Brittany are lying on the sofa. Yeah, they're making out, but that's not out of the ordinary.
Santana's lying on her back, one arm beneath the pillow supporting her head with the other drifting over the smooth skin of Brittany's lower back, nails scratching gently. Brittany's on top of her, arms tucked between them and their lips are moving steadily, just brushing and smiling against each other as there's no need to go any further because they're both content with just being together. Just kissing and touching appropriately.
It's only been a month and a half since they've become official, but every day has been like a dream. Waking up with Brittany by her side is just the most incredible feeling and honestly, she never thought she could feel this way about someone. She didn't think it was humanly possible to feel this way about someone because it was something only epic romance novels wrote about. But this... Brittany in her arms and Brittany on her lips... Shit. She can't even begin to explain it.
Their kiss is slow, and deep, and when oxygen becomes a necessity, Brittany pulls back but keeps close, their noses squashing together and lips ghosting over one another as they stare into each others eyes. Neither of them need to vocalize the declaration of love, because it's quite obviously there behind dark brown and crystal blue. It's one of the best things about them, Santana thinks, and she can't help but fall in love with Brittany more and more everyday because of that (and a million other things, too.)
Except as always, something has to break the moment and it just happens to be the buzzing sound of Santana's cell phone. Letting out a loud groan, she takes her hand out from beneath Brittany's tank top and reaches to the floor to grab it, thumbing the screen and stilling when she sees who the text's from. Brittany must notice the sudden change in atmosphere because she pulls back, fair eyebrows scrunching together and eyes narrowing with curiosity.
“Who's it from?” She asks, tilting her head to the side.
Santana wets her lips. “Sophie,” she says rather shortly.
She doesn't even need to let her eyes drift to her girlfriend to gauge Brittany's reaction. Just waits for Brittany to speak.
“What does she want?”
“Erm,” Santana blinks as she reads over the text, suddenly unsure of her feelings for more than one reason. “Just telling me she's completed moved out now. The keys are with the guy at the front desk.”
“Oh. Does that mean--“ Brittany's face scrunches together as she pauses, shifting and pull back a little. “Does that mean you're... moving back?”
They stare at each other for a long moment, and Santana knows the exact same thought is running through both their minds. She knew living together wasn't going to be a permanent thing between them, not at this point in their relationship anyway, but she never really put any thought into moving out. They've been living together for a month and a half, and that was already over the time Sophie had said she needed, but Santana never complained. Hell, she was relieved when Sophie text her a few weeks back to say she needed more time. It gave Santana more time with Brittany, more time to cherish being with her almost constantly and so she never even said anything to her girlfriend about it. Just kept living with her.
Except now it's come up, and Santana doesn't really have a reason to stay here anymore. They've been dating for less than two months, and every morning, Santana's woken up to warm lips kissing her back into consciousness, and every night she's gone to sleep with a smile on her face and the most incredible woman in her arms, and it's been magical. There's nothing inside of her that wants to go back to her own apartment, to falling asleep and waking up alone. Absolutely nothing.
But she guesses they should probably have some time apart considering they haven't been dating long. Moving in together would be way too soon in terms of normal relationships, and yeah, they're not exactly the standard couple considering their past and all that jazz, but doesn't that mean they have even more reason to abide by some of the normal dating rules?
There's no point in even arguing with herself over the question. She knows the right answer.
“I... I guess so,” Santana says, uncertainty wavering her voice. “I mean, all my stuff's there, so...”
She trails off, leaving time for Brittany to add on a few words, maybe along the lines of “but I'm here” or something alike. But Brittany doesn't, and Santana just offers wraps her arms around her girlfriend as Brittany puts her head on her chest, both of them thinking the same thing but neither saying a thing.
//
The next day, Santana's packing all her clothes and belongings back into the duffel that's been tucked away in the back of the closet for the past month and a half. Brittany's sitting on the bed beside the bag, sorting out the clothing as Santana packs it with the saddest expression Santana's ever seen. It's half-way between tears and half-way between regret, and all she wants to do is wrap the blonde up in her arms, dive beneath the covers and stay there for eternity.
There are many flaws in that plan, though, and she can't help but make a note of all of them.
“You don't have to go today,” Brittany says, her voice low and sad.
Santana pauses at the dresser, twisting her neck to peer at her girlfriend. “I know, baby. But the longer I stay here, the more it'll suck when I leave.”
“It sucks that you're leaving now.”
“I know,” she says, walking back toward the bed and the duffel bag, dropping the clothes in favor of sliding her hand along Brittany's jaw until blue eyes meet her brown ones. “But it's like ripping off the band aid.”
Fair eyebrows scrunch together, a pink bottom lip jutting out further into the most adorable pout. “Just keep the band aid on and stay here,” Brittany replies, tugging on a tanned hand until Santana's forced to sit beside her.
“Babe,” Santana whispers, brushing back blonde hair. “We can't spend all our time together.”
“Why not?”
“It's not healthy for couples to do that.”
Blue eyes drop to their tangled fingers. “I don't care,” Brittany pouts. “I just wanna be with you.”
Heart expanding, Santana sighs and wraps her arms around her girlfriend, pulling her close and dropping kisses into golden hair. “I'll be back tomorrow, babe. I've just gotta sort out some things at the house.”
Brittany hums into her neck, nuzzling gently but doesn't speak any further, and Santana kind of hates that. She knows her girlfriend's putting up a fight for her but in all honestly, she wants to stay here, too. In fact, she's actually having to bite her tongue right now from spilling the question “move in with me” because she wants to be around Brittany that much. There's not a moment she can see in the near future, or far away future for that matter, where she's not going to want to come back to blue eyes and a bright smile and feel all the shit wash off her from her day as Brittany kisses her hello.
She just can't see it and she tips Brittany's chin and brings theirs mouths together softly, before pulling back, pecking Brittany's nose and earning a laugh, then proceeds to push up from the bed, gather the rest of her belongings and sling the three duffel bags over her shoulders. When she turns to her girlfriend, pink lips are drooped and blue eyes are sad as they stare at her, but she just moves back to Brittany, crouching in front of her and taking both hands between hers.
“I'll be back tomorrow, Britt Britt. I promise.”
It even hurts to say but Brittany doesn't object anymore and nods, slowly getting up and taking Santana's hand as she's lead through the apartment and to the front door. They turn to each other when it's open, standing in the entrance and Santana swings their hands between them, biting on her bottom lip and waiting, no, hoping, that Brittany will refuse to let her leave. Maybe Brittany will grab her arm, tug her back in and even lock her in the bedroom to keep her there, but it doesn't happen though, and she just inhales deeply, shaking her head and desperately withholding the urge to blurt out her moving in proposal.
“I'll be back as soon as I wake up, okay?” She reassures, watching her girlfriend pinch her lips up at the side.
“Okay,” Brittany drawls out through a long exhale. Her eyes flicker up to meet Santana's. “I'll miss you.”
That brings a soft smile to Santana's face and she leans forward, innocently pressing her lips to Brittany's warm ones and holding, her eyes fluttering shut as her girlfriend kisses back, pushing a little harder into her. They stay like that for a few long seconds, but Santana breaks first, rubbing her lips together to capture the last taste of her girlfriend before she releases their clasped hands and slides a thumb beneath the strap of the duffel, holding them as she descends down the stoop.
At the bottom, she pauses and turns, calling Brittany's name to grab the blondes attention.
“I love you,” she murmurs. “By the way.”
Brittany sighs, tips her temple against the door frame and smiles softly. “I love you, too,” she replies, and Santana still feels the newness of that inside of her, flipping her stomach and making her heart flutter.
Still, she just gazes at her girlfriend for another long moment before she begins to walk away.
Back to a house that doesn't feel like home.
//
She kind of wishes that it were dark, that it were night time or raining or something because then her melancholy would be acceptable as it fitted in with the universe and possibly, weather.
But it's not. It's just gone noon and she steps inside her apartment, feeling a chill creep down her spine as she throws her keys to the side table that isn't there. They drop to the floor with a metallic clang and she whips her head round, realizing that it's at Brittany's apartment that the side table is there. Not her own. She's just been there for so long she'd forgotten what it was like at this place. At her apartment.
She bends down to pick them up and walks further into the place, unable to push away the emptiness and coldness of it. It's eery and she's only been here two minutes but she already fucking hates it. Her keys are thrown onto the sofa, along with the duffel bags she's carrying and she takes a look around, noting that Sophie hasn't taken any of the furniture. She's thankful in some ways, because she pretty much did pay for all of it considering it was her apartment before it was her and Sophie's, but at the same time she was hoping everything would be gone so she had an excuse to go back to Brittany's tonight.
She can't keep thinking like that though, and so she decides to start sorting some things out like moving around the furniture to how she wants it because Sophie did it the way she wanted. Like painting the walls to a color she wants because she really isn't down with this lilac shade on the walls of the living room.
And who knows, maybe it'll make the place feel more homey?
//
Turns out there isn't any paint in the apartment and so she has to go out to a hardware store to pick up a can.
But she finds the right color for her, picks up a few rollers and paintbrushes and decides to head back and get started, pushing back the urge to ring Brittany to ask if she wants to help redecorate.
She changes into old, denim overalls and ties her hair back in a high pony, planting her hands on her hips and staring at the furniture that she knows she should cover because her painting skills aren't exactly on point.
So after all the furniture is pushed to the center, and a white cloth is draped over all of it, she begins painting.
///
All the walls are finished five hours later, and her hands are back on her hips as she surveys her work.
She actually thinks she got more paint on herself than she did on the walls, but there are two coats on there so it'll do for today. Plus, the sun's going down and artificial light always tends to make painted walls look differently so maybe if they're not completely right by tomorrow morning, she'll put another coat on.
With the last bit of available daylight, she slips some latex gloves on and begins moving the furniture back, except the desk that goes against the wall stays a good distance away to make sure any still-drying paint doesn't mark it.
Ten minutes and that's finished, and she decides to head for the shower. The water's too cold and she winces the second the water hits her skin, forgetting that here she has to adjust the temperature here after Sophie broke it and the superintendent never came to fix it. At Brittany's it just stays on automatic and she always climbs into a nice, warm shower, one that soothes her aching muscles and one that only two minutes into it, arms wrap around her waist and kisses trail up the left side of her neck.
She leans against the wall of her shower, out from beneath the spray of the water and waits for it to warm up as she sighs and shakes her head at her own thoughts.
Showers at Brittany's are so much better.
//
After changing into heavy track pants and a superman t-shirt, Santana makes her way to the fridge and finds that it's void of any groceries.
She shouldn't find it that surprising because even when she and Sophie were together, Sophie would never pick up any food and Santana was always left ordering in a takeout.
Which, apparently, is what she's doing tonight.
She rings Mr. Chows and orders the regular, fighting back the sadness pushing on her chest when she has to correct her order to make it for one, and has to tell him that no, it's just her tonight and there's no 'Miss Brittany' with her. He just makes a cheery comment back and she hums awkwardly, asking for the total even though she knows it already before hanging up.
A unopened beer rests in her left hand as she wanders into the living room, grabbing the TV remote and flicking on some horror movie as she cracks it open and takes a long pull.
For the second time that night, she debates ringing Brittany because it's just not the same without her, but then she looks at the clock on her phone and remembers Brittany will be teaching a dance class at the moment.
It wouldn't really be much different if she were at Brittany's anyway, she'd still be on her own, but she knows deep down that it would feel a lot warmer and a lot more like home if she were there.
She doesn't want to think about though, and just settles back into the couch, taking another large sip of her beer and fights her thoughts.
//
Later on she's in bed.
And shit, does this suck.
She's on the left side, because that's her side, and the entire right side is untouched. The sheets aren't crumpled up, and the pillows aren't darted around randomly, and she almost does it to make it look like Brittany was here but figures that's a little sad and just stares at it instead.
For the past two hours she's been trying to sleep, but everything just feels too cold, too empty, too quiet with Brittany and she's just become restless.
Luckily, the God's seem to be shining down at her at that moment, or Brittany's just a really, really awesome and intuitive girlfriend because her phone vibrates on the beside table and lights up seconds later. She reaches over to grab it, finding a picture of Brittany with her phone propped against the headboard on screen, looking down at the bed and showing how the entire left half is empty and smooth, just like the left of Santana's bed is. Her heart clenches and she smiles softly, but whines noisily when she thinks about how she wants to be there. Below the picture is a caption and she takes a moment to read it.
It doesn't feel the same without you
She doesn't even hesitate before she's FaceTiming Brittany.
Brittany picks up after the third ring, and they don't even greet each other for the first few seconds, just stare at the low quality versions of each other through the screen before Santana sighs heaviyl and Brittany pouts before speaking.
“I don't like this,” the blonde says through the screen, blue eyes sad and peering up through thick lashes.
Santana frowns. “Me neither, B.”
“Then why did you leave!”
It's said in a high pitched whine but there's a smile on her girlfriend's face. “I had to, B. I've got my own apartment.”
“Well you shouldn't. Your apartment is stupid.”
She giggles at how childish her girlfriend sounds but it's utterly adorable and even though Brittany's a dork, Santana shifts and begins talking again without even thinking about her words.
“Well unless you wanna move in together baby, this is how it's gonna be.”
She doesn't even realize what she just said until she finishes shuffling up the bed, wiggling to get into a more comfortable position and finds Brittany staring back at her in a daze.
“What?”
“You...” Brittany's eyes slide off past the screen, her mind going with it and Santana gnaws on her lip, almost choking on the breath she takes when she realizes what she said. “You just said...”
“Shit, no, I... I, uh—I didn't mean... We haven't—It's stupid,” she shakes her head, looking down at herself. “Forget I said anything.”
“No, don't,” Brittany retorts, instantly, but she's still in deep thought, staring past the camera. They come back a moment later, meeting Santana's through the screen and suddenly their conversation is a lot more serious than it was before. “What... What if I wanted to?”
Santana gulps. “I mean... If you're up for it—If you wanna do it then... I think it's something worth acting on,” she replies, honestly, keeping strong eye contact with her girlfriend.
She was going to suggest it earlier... Like, she wanted to ask but she thought it would freak Brittany out. After all, they have only been dating for a month and a half and that's soon to be even thinking about it, let alone actually doing it, but shit. This is her and Brittany she's talking about. This isn't just a girl she met at a club, this is the girl she's been in love with for as long as she can remember. This is the girl that isn't only her soul mate and the sole love of her life, but her best friend, too. This is the girl that makes Santana her, the one that makes her the best she can possibly be without even trying to make her like that, and it's utterly ridiculous to think that they should abide by regular relationship rules.
“Lets do it.”
Santana's pulled from her thoughts and blinks at the camera. “What?” Her mind catches up and she gasps, excitement buzzing through her and momentarily paralyzing her. “You want to? You wanna move in together?”
White teeth tug at a pink lip. “Yeah,” Brittany beams through a grin. “Yeah.”
“We're moving in together?” Santana squeaks, bolting into a seated position. Shit. Is this actually happening? They're moving in together?
“Yeah, Santana, we're moving in together.”
It's almost all too overwhelming and she jolts from the bed, propping the phone up so the camera's locked on her as she begins doing a celebratory dance. Brittany's giggle flows out from the speakers and it spurs Santana on as she wiggles her hips and begins pumping her arms, twisting around in a circle. It's stupid, and she knows she looks stupid, but she just can't find it in her to care. This is her being happy so fuck it. She's going to celebrate with this ridiculous dance.
After a few minutes, she's panting and she flops down on the bed again, picking her phone up and angling it towards her to see her girlfriend's face again, which is currently scrunched up, nose wrinkled and teeth showing as she laughs her ass off. She begins laughing too, but finds she doesn't have the energy left and groans, clutching at her stomach since she was laughing and dancing and now she's kind of exhausted.
“San...” Brittany whines but it's playful. Her laughter begins to die down and she wipes at the corner of her eyes, flipping onto her back and holding it above her face. “You're such a dork.”
Santana flashes a toothy and very cheesy grin. “It's why you love me.”
“I do love you,” her girlfriend agrees but then blue eyes tint with some Santana knows very well and her smile twists into a smirk. “And that's why I think if you have enough energy to do that little dance of yours, you can come over here,” she pauses by tilting the camera slightly, allowing a view of her body, tangled in the sheets of the right hand side of the bed. Santana gulps audibly. “The bed's just too tidy, San,” she brings the camera back to her face. “So I'm thinking we could mess it up and celebrate together,” she purrs through a suggestive smirk, biting on her lower lip. “Does that sound good, baby?”
Arousal punches through Santana, bottoming out between her legs and she feels herself growing already. Fuck. Her girlfriend is amazing. “I'll be out in ten,” she blurts out, stumbling out the bed and tripping as the sheet wraps around her ankle.
Her phone manages to stay in hand though, and when she hears a giggle and glances up, she finds her girlfriend moving the phone again, tipping it to show how her own hand is gliding down her clothed abs, the tips of her fingers pausing and flicking at the waistband of her very small, almost not even there panties.
And Santana all about comes as Brittany raises the camera and winks before hanging up.
Her eyebrows raise and she scrambles off the floor in a rush, only stopping for a coat and shoes as she bolts out the door, slamming it behind her.
She's never run so damn fast in her life.
//
The image she's greeted with when she gets to Brittany's bedroom after practically fucking sprinting through the apartment is great.
In fact, it's really fucking great and she's sure her eyes pop out of her damn head as she stops in her tracks, lips parted and eyes solely focused on her girlfriend, lying in bed, touching herself. A strong hand is between two milky thighs as Brittany works her own fingers against her glistening center. Her eyes are clenched shut, teeth biting on her lip and head tilted back and Santana swears to the heavens that there's nothing hotter on this earth than seeing this.
Tanned hands begin to insistently push at Santana's boxers, a full on erection springing free and she doesn't hesitate in stepping out of each leg hole and almost falling over as she makes her way toward the bed, ridding herself of her tank top and climbing onto it when she gets there. A flush scorches across the skin the closer she gets to her girlfriend, and Brittany doesn't even flinch as the mattress dips, which makes Santana thinks she knows she's already here and it just gets her even more fired up as she crawls up the bed, grabbing at Brittany's wrist to stop her as her own eyes drift down to see slender fingers covering the softest part of her.
A disgruntled noise escapes Brittany's mouth and by the time Santana looks up, dark blue eyes are staring straight at her, a smirk playing on Brittany's face.
“You were late,” she whispers, arousal coating her tone and Santana just looks at her, pushing her other hand up the plane of her girlfriend's flat stomach, urging the top over her head until blonde hair litters across the pillow.
“By like a minute,” Santana comments, reaching down to grab at herself as she settles between long legs.
Hands come up to her neck, fingers toying too innocently with the hairs at the back of her neck as she presses the tip of her dick to Brittany's clit, earning a satisfying whimper from her. Brittany's chest heaves, skin shines and hips buck up when Santana repeats the motion.
“You've gotta make it up to me,” Brittany points out and Santana knows that, which is why without another thought she lowers her hips and slides into her, feeling Brittany arch into her as she buries herself in as deep as possible, their foreheads tipping together.
“How's that for an apology?”
Brittany's eyes flutter as Santana grinds her hips down, the hand in dark hair tightening. “You're al—most making up fo—for it...” she stutters through a moan as Santana pulls out almost all the way and pushes back in slowly, drawing out the pleasure that etches its way across her girlfriend's face.
“Only almost?” She teases, lowering her head to brush her lips over Brittany's. “How about this...”
Pink lips part when nothing happens for a long moment, but then Santana sits back on her knees, slipping out momentarily and groaning to herself but enjoying the way Brittany snaps her head up and props herself on her elbows, her expression asking “what the fuck?” without her mouth doing it. But Santana just smirks, reaching down to grab herself, ensuring she's not going to come at the sight of her girlfriend's glistening center right in front of her and pulls on Brittany's hips until her ass and lower back are resting on her thighs.
Her free hand rests on tight abs, and Santana lets it drift down, thumb rubbing quick circles around Brittany's clit until pale hands snap down and stop the movement. Nails scrape against her forearm and down to her wrist, and she knows what that means but it's just so fucking hot to tease her girlfriend.
“Santana,” Brittany calls, voice low and serious. Santana just smirks, pretending like she doesn't know what that tone means.
“Yes, Britt Britt?”
Tiny whimpers escape her girlfriend's lips as her thumb switches from firm, quick circles to slow, wide ones.
“Just...” comes out through heavy, labored breaths. “Please...” Brittany begs, her head throwing back and nails digging into tanned skin.
And who would Santana be to refuse that?
The legs around her waist tighten as she shifts forward, pressing the tip of her cock in but stopping, sliding her hands up to slim hips to tug on them, sliding further into her girlfriend as Brittany's body comes closer to her. The heat and tightness covering her makes a low, guttural groan escapes her lips, heat building at the nape of her neck but it's too hot now. She's been teasing for too long and now she's filled with animalistic need and her stomachs tight with red hot arousal.
Her hips begin to rut slowly, picking up the pace as she goes on and her thumb resumes it's movement, the pad rolling over Brittany's clit until Brittany's hips begin to jerk into each movement. She tries to keep it steady, but then Brittany begins moaning into the air, and slaps a palm over her forehead as the other hand clutches onto Santana's wrist, and it just sets her off. She begins rutting into her girlfriend, feeling everything, how hot, how deep she is inside of Brittany as she cants her hips, sliding in and out of her and feeling the pressure build and build within.
Brittany squirms and Santana's jaw drops open at the sight of her girlfriend. She can't seem to focus on anything and even though pleasure is coursing through herself, watching Brittany is so fucking hot. A smile comes to her lips, knowing how good she can make her girlfriend feel and begins to rock her hips in deliberate circles, grunting when the blonde arches into her, hips pushing further and Santana's cock sliding deeper until she's forced to fuck her harder and harder.
Moans and groans fill the room, and it's not long before Brittany's tipped over the edge, reaching up to grab at any part of Santana as she screams, her entire body quaking violently as Santana bottoms outside inside of her, keeping still and feeling her girlfriend clench around her with a vice grip as she comes. The image and the feel only heightens Santana's arrival and she follows a few seconds later with two quick thrusts, her body still and tensing as she lets go, letting pleasure sizzle through her as she pours herself into her girlfriend.
Both their bodies droop at the same time, Santana falling forward, her nose pressing into Brittany's breastbone and breaths hitting pale, sweaty skin.
Brittany just giggles and runs her hands through damp, dark locks until Santana lifts up, settles between long legs and kisses her girlfriend, slow, sloppy and so, so deep.
//
A little while later, they're snuggled up, lying on their sides. Brittany's leg is hitched up against Santana's hip, calf curled over her lower back and Santana's hand is rubbing up and down the length of it, caressing smooth skin and shifting closer until their noses are squashed together, bodies as close as possible.
“So... Where are we gonna live?”
Santana smiles, heart fluttering and leans in to kiss Brittany softly, her thumb swiping over a pink bottom lip as she pulls away. “I was thinking here.”
“Yeah?”
“I mean... If that's cool. I just... I just don't like my apartment,” she explains, eyes drifting off. “I made too many mistakes there,” she admits, the skin around her jaw tightening.
Fingers trace along her jawline gently, trying to loosen it and it works. She breathes out heavily, shakes the feeling off and continues.
“I just—It was mine... Then Sophie's and mine and I don't want that.” Brittany tilts her head into the pillow, eyes narrowing. “I just want a place that's mine and yours, y'know?” Santana squeezes a strong thigh to emphasize her words. “I just want somewhere we can call our own and... I don't know,” she ducks her chin slightly. “This is where things started. This is where we had our first kiss.” She grabs Brittany's hands and pulls it between their chests, thumb rubbing over pale knuckles. “This is where we first... slept together,” she whispers like it's a secret. Brittany giggles and pecks her nose. “It's just... This place has significance for us, you know?” Her eyes meet blue ones and she scrunches her face up, almost fearing the answer as she asks, “Is that okay?”
Blue eyes sparkle and Santana knows that's a yes before she even hears it. Lips, warm and soft, brush over hers, and she breathes out unevenly when she back away, only to lean in one more time to press a firm kiss to her own lips. Her hand slides back down to a strong thigh, pulling Brittany further into her and closer as she pushes into the kiss, inhaling deeply through her nose and sighing when Brittany smiles against her mouth, her hand coming up to tangle through dark locks, deepening the kiss and stroking their tongues together until they both have to pull back, panting for air.
Even then though, they just stay close, both of them letting it sink in that they're moving in together.
They're actually moving in together. Officially.
Fuck, that feels good.
“So,” Santana starts but stops to clear her throat, ridding the sudden raspiness that kiss bought to it. “When do you want me to move in?”
Brittany's face brightens at the phrasing. “As soon as possible,” she murmurs, stroking her nose over Santana's.
“So next week?”
Brittany sucks in her top lip, eyes clouding with thought. “Too long,” she decides on a few beats later.
Santana grins and tilts her chin to brush her lips over a cold nose. “This weekend?” She whispers.
A hand comes up to tip her face back down and Brittany stares into her eyes, pressing a soft kiss to the corner of her mouth before drifting them alone a tanned jawline and pausing when her lips are brushing the shell of Santana's ear. “How about tomorrow?” She counters, voice wavering slightly with nerves.
Santana pulls back enough to stare at her girlfriend in the eye, maybe to see a joke or to see the tell-tale signs of teasing but nope, nothing there but complete seriousness. It makes her heart thump louder and harder against her chest, and she knows if this were any other girl, she'd be freaking out. This is what grown ups do. This is what people do when they're in the relationship for the long run and like she said, if it were any other girl she'd be doubting herself. But it's not just any other girl, it's Brittany, her soul mate, the love of her life. It's Brittany and nothing sounds better than knowing that tomorrow, they're going to be living together.
So she begins bobbing her head excitedly and scrunches up her nose when Brittany's face twists into the second of the 'fives smiles' — the excited one. Her cheeks rise immediately and that adorable little crinkle forms above her eyebrow as the rest of her face stretches into the largest grin, and Santana physically feels herself falling more and more in love with her girlfriend, even though she thought that weren't possible.
“I could do that,” she tells Brittany, a second before Brittany bounces excitedly and surges forward, her hand coming up to tangle through dark hair as their mouths come together in an almost bruising kiss, conveying all the emotions both of them are feeling at this moment.
Because tomorrow? That's where their life really begins.
Santana and Brittany are lying on the sofa. Yeah, they're making out, but that's not out of the ordinary.
Santana's lying on her back, one arm beneath the pillow supporting her head with the other drifting over the smooth skin of Brittany's lower back, nails scratching gently. Brittany's on top of her, arms tucked between them and their lips are moving steadily, just brushing and smiling against each other as there's no need to go any further because they're both content with just being together. Just kissing and touching appropriately.
It's only been a month and a half since they've become official, but every day has been like a dream. Waking up with Brittany by her side is just the most incredible feeling and honestly, she never thought she could feel this way about someone. She didn't think it was humanly possible to feel this way about someone because it was something only epic romance novels wrote about. But this... Brittany in her arms and Brittany on her lips... Shit. She can't even begin to explain it.
Their kiss is slow, and deep, and when oxygen becomes a necessity, Brittany pulls back but keeps close, their noses squashing together and lips ghosting over one another as they stare into each others eyes. Neither of them need to vocalize the declaration of love, because it's quite obviously there behind dark brown and crystal blue. It's one of the best things about them, Santana thinks, and she can't help but fall in love with Brittany more and more everyday because of that (and a million other things, too.)
Except as always, something has to break the moment and it just happens to be the buzzing sound of Santana's cell phone. Letting out a loud groan, she takes her hand out from beneath Brittany's tank top and reaches to the floor to grab it, thumbing the screen and stilling when she sees who the text's from. Brittany must notice the sudden change in atmosphere because she pulls back, fair eyebrows scrunching together and eyes narrowing with curiosity.
“Who's it from?” She asks, tilting her head to the side.
Santana wets her lips. “Sophie,” she says rather shortly.
She doesn't even need to let her eyes drift to her girlfriend to gauge Brittany's reaction. Just waits for Brittany to speak.
“What does she want?”
“Erm,” Santana blinks as she reads over the text, suddenly unsure of her feelings for more than one reason. “Just telling me she's completed moved out now. The keys are with the guy at the front desk.”
“Oh. Does that mean--“ Brittany's face scrunches together as she pauses, shifting and pull back a little. “Does that mean you're... moving back?”
They stare at each other for a long moment, and Santana knows the exact same thought is running through both their minds. She knew living together wasn't going to be a permanent thing between them, not at this point in their relationship anyway, but she never really put any thought into moving out. They've been living together for a month and a half, and that was already over the time Sophie had said she needed, but Santana never complained. Hell, she was relieved when Sophie text her a few weeks back to say she needed more time. It gave Santana more time with Brittany, more time to cherish being with her almost constantly and so she never even said anything to her girlfriend about it. Just kept living with her.
Except now it's come up, and Santana doesn't really have a reason to stay here anymore. They've been dating for less than two months, and every morning, Santana's woken up to warm lips kissing her back into consciousness, and every night she's gone to sleep with a smile on her face and the most incredible woman in her arms, and it's been magical. There's nothing inside of her that wants to go back to her own apartment, to falling asleep and waking up alone. Absolutely nothing.
But she guesses they should probably have some time apart considering they haven't been dating long. Moving in together would be way too soon in terms of normal relationships, and yeah, they're not exactly the standard couple considering their past and all that jazz, but doesn't that mean they have even more reason to abide by some of the normal dating rules?
There's no point in even arguing with herself over the question. She knows the right answer.
“I... I guess so,” Santana says, uncertainty wavering her voice. “I mean, all my stuff's there, so...”
She trails off, leaving time for Brittany to add on a few words, maybe along the lines of “but I'm here” or something alike. But Brittany doesn't, and Santana just offers wraps her arms around her girlfriend as Brittany puts her head on her chest, both of them thinking the same thing but neither saying a thing.
//
The next day, Santana's packing all her clothes and belongings back into the duffel that's been tucked away in the back of the closet for the past month and a half. Brittany's sitting on the bed beside the bag, sorting out the clothing as Santana packs it with the saddest expression Santana's ever seen. It's half-way between tears and half-way between regret, and all she wants to do is wrap the blonde up in her arms, dive beneath the covers and stay there for eternity.
There are many flaws in that plan, though, and she can't help but make a note of all of them.
“You don't have to go today,” Brittany says, her voice low and sad.
Santana pauses at the dresser, twisting her neck to peer at her girlfriend. “I know, baby. But the longer I stay here, the more it'll suck when I leave.”
“It sucks that you're leaving now.”
“I know,” she says, walking back toward the bed and the duffel bag, dropping the clothes in favor of sliding her hand along Brittany's jaw until blue eyes meet her brown ones. “But it's like ripping off the band aid.”
Fair eyebrows scrunch together, a pink bottom lip jutting out further into the most adorable pout. “Just keep the band aid on and stay here,” Brittany replies, tugging on a tanned hand until Santana's forced to sit beside her.
“Babe,” Santana whispers, brushing back blonde hair. “We can't spend all our time together.”
“Why not?”
“It's not healthy for couples to do that.”
Blue eyes drop to their tangled fingers. “I don't care,” Brittany pouts. “I just wanna be with you.”
Heart expanding, Santana sighs and wraps her arms around her girlfriend, pulling her close and dropping kisses into golden hair. “I'll be back tomorrow, babe. I've just gotta sort out some things at the house.”
Brittany hums into her neck, nuzzling gently but doesn't speak any further, and Santana kind of hates that. She knows her girlfriend's putting up a fight for her but in all honestly, she wants to stay here, too. In fact, she's actually having to bite her tongue right now from spilling the question “move in with me” because she wants to be around Brittany that much. There's not a moment she can see in the near future, or far away future for that matter, where she's not going to want to come back to blue eyes and a bright smile and feel all the shit wash off her from her day as Brittany kisses her hello.
She just can't see it and she tips Brittany's chin and brings theirs mouths together softly, before pulling back, pecking Brittany's nose and earning a laugh, then proceeds to push up from the bed, gather the rest of her belongings and sling the three duffel bags over her shoulders. When she turns to her girlfriend, pink lips are drooped and blue eyes are sad as they stare at her, but she just moves back to Brittany, crouching in front of her and taking both hands between hers.
“I'll be back tomorrow, Britt Britt. I promise.”
It even hurts to say but Brittany doesn't object anymore and nods, slowly getting up and taking Santana's hand as she's lead through the apartment and to the front door. They turn to each other when it's open, standing in the entrance and Santana swings their hands between them, biting on her bottom lip and waiting, no, hoping, that Brittany will refuse to let her leave. Maybe Brittany will grab her arm, tug her back in and even lock her in the bedroom to keep her there, but it doesn't happen though, and she just inhales deeply, shaking her head and desperately withholding the urge to blurt out her moving in proposal.
“I'll be back as soon as I wake up, okay?” She reassures, watching her girlfriend pinch her lips up at the side.
“Okay,” Brittany drawls out through a long exhale. Her eyes flicker up to meet Santana's. “I'll miss you.”
That brings a soft smile to Santana's face and she leans forward, innocently pressing her lips to Brittany's warm ones and holding, her eyes fluttering shut as her girlfriend kisses back, pushing a little harder into her. They stay like that for a few long seconds, but Santana breaks first, rubbing her lips together to capture the last taste of her girlfriend before she releases their clasped hands and slides a thumb beneath the strap of the duffel, holding them as she descends down the stoop.
At the bottom, she pauses and turns, calling Brittany's name to grab the blondes attention.
“I love you,” she murmurs. “By the way.”
Brittany sighs, tips her temple against the door frame and smiles softly. “I love you, too,” she replies, and Santana still feels the newness of that inside of her, flipping her stomach and making her heart flutter.
Still, she just gazes at her girlfriend for another long moment before she begins to walk away.
Back to a house that doesn't feel like home.
//
She kind of wishes that it were dark, that it were night time or raining or something because then her melancholy would be acceptable as it fitted in with the universe and possibly, weather.
But it's not. It's just gone noon and she steps inside her apartment, feeling a chill creep down her spine as she throws her keys to the side table that isn't there. They drop to the floor with a metallic clang and she whips her head round, realizing that it's at Brittany's apartment that the side table is there. Not her own. She's just been there for so long she'd forgotten what it was like at this place. At her apartment.
She bends down to pick them up and walks further into the place, unable to push away the emptiness and coldness of it. It's eery and she's only been here two minutes but she already fucking hates it. Her keys are thrown onto the sofa, along with the duffel bags she's carrying and she takes a look around, noting that Sophie hasn't taken any of the furniture. She's thankful in some ways, because she pretty much did pay for all of it considering it was her apartment before it was her and Sophie's, but at the same time she was hoping everything would be gone so she had an excuse to go back to Brittany's tonight.
She can't keep thinking like that though, and so she decides to start sorting some things out like moving around the furniture to how she wants it because Sophie did it the way she wanted. Like painting the walls to a color she wants because she really isn't down with this lilac shade on the walls of the living room.
And who knows, maybe it'll make the place feel more homey?
//
Turns out there isn't any paint in the apartment and so she has to go out to a hardware store to pick up a can.
But she finds the right color for her, picks up a few rollers and paintbrushes and decides to head back and get started, pushing back the urge to ring Brittany to ask if she wants to help redecorate.
She changes into old, denim overalls and ties her hair back in a high pony, planting her hands on her hips and staring at the furniture that she knows she should cover because her painting skills aren't exactly on point.
So after all the furniture is pushed to the center, and a white cloth is draped over all of it, she begins painting.
///
All the walls are finished five hours later, and her hands are back on her hips as she surveys her work.
She actually thinks she got more paint on herself than she did on the walls, but there are two coats on there so it'll do for today. Plus, the sun's going down and artificial light always tends to make painted walls look differently so maybe if they're not completely right by tomorrow morning, she'll put another coat on.
With the last bit of available daylight, she slips some latex gloves on and begins moving the furniture back, except the desk that goes against the wall stays a good distance away to make sure any still-drying paint doesn't mark it.
Ten minutes and that's finished, and she decides to head for the shower. The water's too cold and she winces the second the water hits her skin, forgetting that here she has to adjust the temperature here after Sophie broke it and the superintendent never came to fix it. At Brittany's it just stays on automatic and she always climbs into a nice, warm shower, one that soothes her aching muscles and one that only two minutes into it, arms wrap around her waist and kisses trail up the left side of her neck.
She leans against the wall of her shower, out from beneath the spray of the water and waits for it to warm up as she sighs and shakes her head at her own thoughts.
Showers at Brittany's are so much better.
//
After changing into heavy track pants and a superman t-shirt, Santana makes her way to the fridge and finds that it's void of any groceries.
She shouldn't find it that surprising because even when she and Sophie were together, Sophie would never pick up any food and Santana was always left ordering in a takeout.
Which, apparently, is what she's doing tonight.
She rings Mr. Chows and orders the regular, fighting back the sadness pushing on her chest when she has to correct her order to make it for one, and has to tell him that no, it's just her tonight and there's no 'Miss Brittany' with her. He just makes a cheery comment back and she hums awkwardly, asking for the total even though she knows it already before hanging up.
A unopened beer rests in her left hand as she wanders into the living room, grabbing the TV remote and flicking on some horror movie as she cracks it open and takes a long pull.
For the second time that night, she debates ringing Brittany because it's just not the same without her, but then she looks at the clock on her phone and remembers Brittany will be teaching a dance class at the moment.
It wouldn't really be much different if she were at Brittany's anyway, she'd still be on her own, but she knows deep down that it would feel a lot warmer and a lot more like home if she were there.
She doesn't want to think about though, and just settles back into the couch, taking another large sip of her beer and fights her thoughts.
//
Later on she's in bed.
And shit, does this suck.
She's on the left side, because that's her side, and the entire right side is untouched. The sheets aren't crumpled up, and the pillows aren't darted around randomly, and she almost does it to make it look like Brittany was here but figures that's a little sad and just stares at it instead.
For the past two hours she's been trying to sleep, but everything just feels too cold, too empty, too quiet with Brittany and she's just become restless.
Luckily, the God's seem to be shining down at her at that moment, or Brittany's just a really, really awesome and intuitive girlfriend because her phone vibrates on the beside table and lights up seconds later. She reaches over to grab it, finding a picture of Brittany with her phone propped against the headboard on screen, looking down at the bed and showing how the entire left half is empty and smooth, just like the left of Santana's bed is. Her heart clenches and she smiles softly, but whines noisily when she thinks about how she wants to be there. Below the picture is a caption and she takes a moment to read it.
It doesn't feel the same without you
She doesn't even hesitate before she's FaceTiming Brittany.
Brittany picks up after the third ring, and they don't even greet each other for the first few seconds, just stare at the low quality versions of each other through the screen before Santana sighs heaviyl and Brittany pouts before speaking.
“I don't like this,” the blonde says through the screen, blue eyes sad and peering up through thick lashes.
Santana frowns. “Me neither, B.”
“Then why did you leave!”
It's said in a high pitched whine but there's a smile on her girlfriend's face. “I had to, B. I've got my own apartment.”
“Well you shouldn't. Your apartment is stupid.”
She giggles at how childish her girlfriend sounds but it's utterly adorable and even though Brittany's a dork, Santana shifts and begins talking again without even thinking about her words.
“Well unless you wanna move in together baby, this is how it's gonna be.”
She doesn't even realize what she just said until she finishes shuffling up the bed, wiggling to get into a more comfortable position and finds Brittany staring back at her in a daze.
“What?”
“You...” Brittany's eyes slide off past the screen, her mind going with it and Santana gnaws on her lip, almost choking on the breath she takes when she realizes what she said. “You just said...”
“Shit, no, I... I, uh—I didn't mean... We haven't—It's stupid,” she shakes her head, looking down at herself. “Forget I said anything.”
“No, don't,” Brittany retorts, instantly, but she's still in deep thought, staring past the camera. They come back a moment later, meeting Santana's through the screen and suddenly their conversation is a lot more serious than it was before. “What... What if I wanted to?”
Santana gulps. “I mean... If you're up for it—If you wanna do it then... I think it's something worth acting on,” she replies, honestly, keeping strong eye contact with her girlfriend.
She was going to suggest it earlier... Like, she wanted to ask but she thought it would freak Brittany out. After all, they have only been dating for a month and a half and that's soon to be even thinking about it, let alone actually doing it, but shit. This is her and Brittany she's talking about. This isn't just a girl she met at a club, this is the girl she's been in love with for as long as she can remember. This is the girl that isn't only her soul mate and the sole love of her life, but her best friend, too. This is the girl that makes Santana her, the one that makes her the best she can possibly be without even trying to make her like that, and it's utterly ridiculous to think that they should abide by regular relationship rules.
“Lets do it.”
Santana's pulled from her thoughts and blinks at the camera. “What?” Her mind catches up and she gasps, excitement buzzing through her and momentarily paralyzing her. “You want to? You wanna move in together?”
White teeth tug at a pink lip. “Yeah,” Brittany beams through a grin. “Yeah.”
“We're moving in together?” Santana squeaks, bolting into a seated position. Shit. Is this actually happening? They're moving in together?
“Yeah, Santana, we're moving in together.”
It's almost all too overwhelming and she jolts from the bed, propping the phone up so the camera's locked on her as she begins doing a celebratory dance. Brittany's giggle flows out from the speakers and it spurs Santana on as she wiggles her hips and begins pumping her arms, twisting around in a circle. It's stupid, and she knows she looks stupid, but she just can't find it in her to care. This is her being happy so fuck it. She's going to celebrate with this ridiculous dance.
After a few minutes, she's panting and she flops down on the bed again, picking her phone up and angling it towards her to see her girlfriend's face again, which is currently scrunched up, nose wrinkled and teeth showing as she laughs her ass off. She begins laughing too, but finds she doesn't have the energy left and groans, clutching at her stomach since she was laughing and dancing and now she's kind of exhausted.
“San...” Brittany whines but it's playful. Her laughter begins to die down and she wipes at the corner of her eyes, flipping onto her back and holding it above her face. “You're such a dork.”
Santana flashes a toothy and very cheesy grin. “It's why you love me.”
“I do love you,” her girlfriend agrees but then blue eyes tint with some Santana knows very well and her smile twists into a smirk. “And that's why I think if you have enough energy to do that little dance of yours, you can come over here,” she pauses by tilting the camera slightly, allowing a view of her body, tangled in the sheets of the right hand side of the bed. Santana gulps audibly. “The bed's just too tidy, San,” she brings the camera back to her face. “So I'm thinking we could mess it up and celebrate together,” she purrs through a suggestive smirk, biting on her lower lip. “Does that sound good, baby?”
Arousal punches through Santana, bottoming out between her legs and she feels herself growing already. Fuck. Her girlfriend is amazing. “I'll be out in ten,” she blurts out, stumbling out the bed and tripping as the sheet wraps around her ankle.
Her phone manages to stay in hand though, and when she hears a giggle and glances up, she finds her girlfriend moving the phone again, tipping it to show how her own hand is gliding down her clothed abs, the tips of her fingers pausing and flicking at the waistband of her very small, almost not even there panties.
And Santana all about comes as Brittany raises the camera and winks before hanging up.
Her eyebrows raise and she scrambles off the floor in a rush, only stopping for a coat and shoes as she bolts out the door, slamming it behind her.
She's never run so damn fast in her life.
//
The image she's greeted with when she gets to Brittany's bedroom after practically fucking sprinting through the apartment is great.
In fact, it's really fucking great and she's sure her eyes pop out of her damn head as she stops in her tracks, lips parted and eyes solely focused on her girlfriend, lying in bed, touching herself. A strong hand is between two milky thighs as Brittany works her own fingers against her glistening center. Her eyes are clenched shut, teeth biting on her lip and head tilted back and Santana swears to the heavens that there's nothing hotter on this earth than seeing this.
Tanned hands begin to insistently push at Santana's boxers, a full on erection springing free and she doesn't hesitate in stepping out of each leg hole and almost falling over as she makes her way toward the bed, ridding herself of her tank top and climbing onto it when she gets there. A flush scorches across the skin the closer she gets to her girlfriend, and Brittany doesn't even flinch as the mattress dips, which makes Santana thinks she knows she's already here and it just gets her even more fired up as she crawls up the bed, grabbing at Brittany's wrist to stop her as her own eyes drift down to see slender fingers covering the softest part of her.
A disgruntled noise escapes Brittany's mouth and by the time Santana looks up, dark blue eyes are staring straight at her, a smirk playing on Brittany's face.
“You were late,” she whispers, arousal coating her tone and Santana just looks at her, pushing her other hand up the plane of her girlfriend's flat stomach, urging the top over her head until blonde hair litters across the pillow.
“By like a minute,” Santana comments, reaching down to grab at herself as she settles between long legs.
Hands come up to her neck, fingers toying too innocently with the hairs at the back of her neck as she presses the tip of her dick to Brittany's clit, earning a satisfying whimper from her. Brittany's chest heaves, skin shines and hips buck up when Santana repeats the motion.
“You've gotta make it up to me,” Brittany points out and Santana knows that, which is why without another thought she lowers her hips and slides into her, feeling Brittany arch into her as she buries herself in as deep as possible, their foreheads tipping together.
“How's that for an apology?”
Brittany's eyes flutter as Santana grinds her hips down, the hand in dark hair tightening. “You're al—most making up fo—for it...” she stutters through a moan as Santana pulls out almost all the way and pushes back in slowly, drawing out the pleasure that etches its way across her girlfriend's face.
“Only almost?” She teases, lowering her head to brush her lips over Brittany's. “How about this...”
Pink lips part when nothing happens for a long moment, but then Santana sits back on her knees, slipping out momentarily and groaning to herself but enjoying the way Brittany snaps her head up and props herself on her elbows, her expression asking “what the fuck?” without her mouth doing it. But Santana just smirks, reaching down to grab herself, ensuring she's not going to come at the sight of her girlfriend's glistening center right in front of her and pulls on Brittany's hips until her ass and lower back are resting on her thighs.
Her free hand rests on tight abs, and Santana lets it drift down, thumb rubbing quick circles around Brittany's clit until pale hands snap down and stop the movement. Nails scrape against her forearm and down to her wrist, and she knows what that means but it's just so fucking hot to tease her girlfriend.
“Santana,” Brittany calls, voice low and serious. Santana just smirks, pretending like she doesn't know what that tone means.
“Yes, Britt Britt?”
Tiny whimpers escape her girlfriend's lips as her thumb switches from firm, quick circles to slow, wide ones.
“Just...” comes out through heavy, labored breaths. “Please...” Brittany begs, her head throwing back and nails digging into tanned skin.
And who would Santana be to refuse that?
The legs around her waist tighten as she shifts forward, pressing the tip of her cock in but stopping, sliding her hands up to slim hips to tug on them, sliding further into her girlfriend as Brittany's body comes closer to her. The heat and tightness covering her makes a low, guttural groan escapes her lips, heat building at the nape of her neck but it's too hot now. She's been teasing for too long and now she's filled with animalistic need and her stomachs tight with red hot arousal.
Her hips begin to rut slowly, picking up the pace as she goes on and her thumb resumes it's movement, the pad rolling over Brittany's clit until Brittany's hips begin to jerk into each movement. She tries to keep it steady, but then Brittany begins moaning into the air, and slaps a palm over her forehead as the other hand clutches onto Santana's wrist, and it just sets her off. She begins rutting into her girlfriend, feeling everything, how hot, how deep she is inside of Brittany as she cants her hips, sliding in and out of her and feeling the pressure build and build within.
Brittany squirms and Santana's jaw drops open at the sight of her girlfriend. She can't seem to focus on anything and even though pleasure is coursing through herself, watching Brittany is so fucking hot. A smile comes to her lips, knowing how good she can make her girlfriend feel and begins to rock her hips in deliberate circles, grunting when the blonde arches into her, hips pushing further and Santana's cock sliding deeper until she's forced to fuck her harder and harder.
Moans and groans fill the room, and it's not long before Brittany's tipped over the edge, reaching up to grab at any part of Santana as she screams, her entire body quaking violently as Santana bottoms outside inside of her, keeping still and feeling her girlfriend clench around her with a vice grip as she comes. The image and the feel only heightens Santana's arrival and she follows a few seconds later with two quick thrusts, her body still and tensing as she lets go, letting pleasure sizzle through her as she pours herself into her girlfriend.
Both their bodies droop at the same time, Santana falling forward, her nose pressing into Brittany's breastbone and breaths hitting pale, sweaty skin.
Brittany just giggles and runs her hands through damp, dark locks until Santana lifts up, settles between long legs and kisses her girlfriend, slow, sloppy and so, so deep.
//
A little while later, they're snuggled up, lying on their sides. Brittany's leg is hitched up against Santana's hip, calf curled over her lower back and Santana's hand is rubbing up and down the length of it, caressing smooth skin and shifting closer until their noses are squashed together, bodies as close as possible.
“So... Where are we gonna live?”
Santana smiles, heart fluttering and leans in to kiss Brittany softly, her thumb swiping over a pink bottom lip as she pulls away. “I was thinking here.”
“Yeah?”
“I mean... If that's cool. I just... I just don't like my apartment,” she explains, eyes drifting off. “I made too many mistakes there,” she admits, the skin around her jaw tightening.
Fingers trace along her jawline gently, trying to loosen it and it works. She breathes out heavily, shakes the feeling off and continues.
“I just—It was mine... Then Sophie's and mine and I don't want that.” Brittany tilts her head into the pillow, eyes narrowing. “I just want a place that's mine and yours, y'know?” Santana squeezes a strong thigh to emphasize her words. “I just want somewhere we can call our own and... I don't know,” she ducks her chin slightly. “This is where things started. This is where we had our first kiss.” She grabs Brittany's hands and pulls it between their chests, thumb rubbing over pale knuckles. “This is where we first... slept together,” she whispers like it's a secret. Brittany giggles and pecks her nose. “It's just... This place has significance for us, you know?” Her eyes meet blue ones and she scrunches her face up, almost fearing the answer as she asks, “Is that okay?”
Blue eyes sparkle and Santana knows that's a yes before she even hears it. Lips, warm and soft, brush over hers, and she breathes out unevenly when she back away, only to lean in one more time to press a firm kiss to her own lips. Her hand slides back down to a strong thigh, pulling Brittany further into her and closer as she pushes into the kiss, inhaling deeply through her nose and sighing when Brittany smiles against her mouth, her hand coming up to tangle through dark locks, deepening the kiss and stroking their tongues together until they both have to pull back, panting for air.
Even then though, they just stay close, both of them letting it sink in that they're moving in together.
They're actually moving in together. Officially.
Fuck, that feels good.
“So,” Santana starts but stops to clear her throat, ridding the sudden raspiness that kiss bought to it. “When do you want me to move in?”
Brittany's face brightens at the phrasing. “As soon as possible,” she murmurs, stroking her nose over Santana's.
“So next week?”
Brittany sucks in her top lip, eyes clouding with thought. “Too long,” she decides on a few beats later.
Santana grins and tilts her chin to brush her lips over a cold nose. “This weekend?” She whispers.
A hand comes up to tip her face back down and Brittany stares into her eyes, pressing a soft kiss to the corner of her mouth before drifting them alone a tanned jawline and pausing when her lips are brushing the shell of Santana's ear. “How about tomorrow?” She counters, voice wavering slightly with nerves.
Santana pulls back enough to stare at her girlfriend in the eye, maybe to see a joke or to see the tell-tale signs of teasing but nope, nothing there but complete seriousness. It makes her heart thump louder and harder against her chest, and she knows if this were any other girl, she'd be freaking out. This is what grown ups do. This is what people do when they're in the relationship for the long run and like she said, if it were any other girl she'd be doubting herself. But it's not just any other girl, it's Brittany, her soul mate, the love of her life. It's Brittany and nothing sounds better than knowing that tomorrow, they're going to be living together.
So she begins bobbing her head excitedly and scrunches up her nose when Brittany's face twists into the second of the 'fives smiles' — the excited one. Her cheeks rise immediately and that adorable little crinkle forms above her eyebrow as the rest of her face stretches into the largest grin, and Santana physically feels herself falling more and more in love with her girlfriend, even though she thought that weren't possible.
“I could do that,” she tells Brittany, a second before Brittany bounces excitedly and surges forward, her hand coming up to tangle through dark hair as their mouths come together in an almost bruising kiss, conveying all the emotions both of them are feeling at this moment.
Because tomorrow? That's where their life really begins.