Once Upon A Time (You Found Me) - Part Three
Santiago/Brittany, Hard R/NC-17, 16.2k this part, AU, genderswap!Santana
He's got the life, he's got the looks, he's got the money — he has everything he needs. Well, that's what he thinks until on one Monday morning, he receives an invitation.
He's got the life, he's got the looks, he's got the money — he has everything he needs. Well, that's what he thinks until on one Monday morning, he receives an invitation.
"Britt, don't—"
"No," Brittany cuts him off, throwing her hand out sharply as the other fiddles with the jeans she's sliding on. "This was... This was stupid," she shakes her head and takes in a deep, quivering breath, hopping lightly into the air and doing up the button. "We shouldn't—I shouldn't..."
Santiago jolts from the bed, scrambles towards the blonde with nothing but his jeans on and grabs her by the arm, but she doesn't look up. "Britt, what? No it was—"
Brittany whips her head up, rips her hand free from his grasp and stares into his eyes with deep, questioning blue. "It was what, Tiago?" She asks, and he can tell there's more than meets the eye.
See, the moment his mom shut the door, it was like someone hit them in the face with a wet fish. Reality came crashing down upon them and they both stared at each other, not knowing what to do. Obviously the moment had been ruined, but Santiago wanted it. He realized the moment they kissed that actually, he'd wanted it all along, and he tried to soothe her, he tried to say something to make the situation better, but nothing was coming from his mouth. No words seemed to come to mind despite him desperately wishing they would.
And that silence had led to Brittany freaking out.
She'd pushed his hands away, jumped off his lap instantly like she'd just touched an open flame and began gathering her clothes. He was so shocked and frozen that his mother had walked in, or that they were actually heading that way, that he couldn't move, just sat on the edge of the bed, staring at nothing. He couldn't believe that he'd crossed that line, that they were going to have sex. He couldn't believe any of it, but the one thing that he was focusing on most?He couldn't believe that he'd been so ignorant towards his feelings for her.
But all of his silence was misconstrued. It must have been taken as something else because the moment he'd come back to focus, he realized that Brittany was already half-dressed and half heading out the door.
Which is why they're here now, staring into each others eyes, and he's begging himself to say something. To say anything that might help this situation. But how can you tell someone how you feel when you've obviously been denying it for so long? Especially your best friend. How can you tell them that actually, you don't want the old head cheerleader, you don't want your old high school dream to come true because it was what it was: a high school dream. He's grown up, he's changed, he wants different things and it's been a long time coming that he finally realizes whathe wants.
Because it's Brittany, and he's pretty sure it always has been.
Except now he's here, and Brittany's asking him what just happened, how he feels, what he felt and whether he regrets it all in one question. Andfuck, he wants to tell her. He wants to blurt out some speech about how much he wants it; not just the sex, but all of it. Her, her heart, her body, her soul; he wants it all.
The words just don't seem to be coming out, though, and he finds her talking before he even can.
"It was a mistake," she finishes abruptly and in a voice he's never heard. It's hard, it has an edge to it that's very un-Brittany and his head jerks back at it. "It was just... A stupid mistake."
She breaks the words up with dramatic pauses, and his jaw clenches. He can see the finality in her eyes, hear it in her words and takes a step back, lifting his chin as she adjusts the jersey on her torso and walks out the door without even looking back.
//
And Santiago just watches her leave.
He hears his mom call out her name.
He hears her respond "I've just gotta go" and then the door slams shut.
He hears his mom open the door and shout after her.
But then he just hears silence.
//
A little while later, soft footsteps make their way up the stairs and only moments later, his mom's standing in the doorway. He's still sitting on the edge of the bed, his hand hung between his legs, hands dangling off his knees too and body still dressed in just unbuttoned jeans.
"Tiago?" His mom whispers softly but he keeps his head down, breathing steadily. "Tiago, I just wanted to—"
"Don't, Ma," he cuts in. "Just don't."
Despite his words, his mom walks further into the room, gingerly takes a seat next to him on the bed and strokes over his back comfortingly. He lets his eyes fall slut, and brings his palms up to bury his face into them as he lets out a loud groan.
"I didn't realize you and Brittany were—"
"We're not. We're not... Anything, mom. We just..." He takes in a deep breath and finally looks to his left at his mom.
She's sitting there, face gentle and apologetic, and ready to listen to whatever he has to say but he can't. He just can't talk to her about this. This is relationships, and sex, and guys don't talk to their moms about that kind of stuff. Girls do, but guys don't. And even if guys ever do have a brief conversation with a parent, it's with their dads when they're fourteen and they're getting the 'condom' and 'be gentle' talk. It's not a conversation about your mom walking in on you and your best friend treading over that line and heading down the sex path, leaving the friendship one behind. That's just how it is.
He sighs and shakes his head. "Just leave it, mom. Seriously," he shrugs off her hand and he can feel how dejected she is. "You wouldn't understand."
His mom lets out a long sigh, but stands from the bed, gently patting him on the head until he looks up. Their eyes meet and he gulps as he looks at her. He knows she hasn't done anything wrong and yet he's being shitty to her. He doesn't mean to be.
"I understand that you and Brittany are friends, but, honey," her face edges with something unrecognizable and Santiago tilts his head. "That girl wants you," his eyebrows shoot up. "And has done for a while. You two were a long time coming and I'm just sorry I ruined it tonight by walking in on you two—"
Blood rushes to his cheeks at the mention of what happened earlier but he coughs, cuts her off and waves a hand out in front of him. "Yeah, mom. You don't have to bring that up," he says, trying to hide his embarrassment but then her words settle in and he snaps his head up, back straightening like a pole. "Wait, what?"
His mom blinks down at him, hands coming together in front of her stomach. "What?"
"Brittany," he breathes out, ignoring the way his stomach flips at her name. "What do you mean about us being a long time coming?"
A low, throaty chuckle comes from the woman but she doesn't answer, just walks backwards toward the door with a 'you should know' expression on her face.
Except Santiago doesn't.
//
The second his phone buzzes, he almost falls over and hits his head trying to reach it from across the room. He doesn't even look at the caller ID as he picks up, just brings the phone to his ear and pants out a breathy greeting. "Shit, I'm so glad you called."
"Missing me already, are we?"
Santiago's head jerks back at the seductive voice and pulls his phone away, taking in the caller ID: Quinn Fabray. Fuck. "Oh, Quinn, sorry, I thought... Just thought you were someone else."
Quinn chuckles down the line. "Not cheating on me are you?"She jokes but he just gulps guiltily.
"Ha, no, not yet," he forces out, rubbing the back of his neck as he walks toward the window and leans against the wall beside it, looking out onto the dark street. "So what's up? You okay?"
"Yeah, I just wondered if you wanted to go to the reunion tomorrow. You know... Together."
He pauses. "Uh, what?"
"Tomorrow, you know the reunion? I was wondering if you wanted to go together."
Once again, he pauses. He doesn't know what to say. He doesn't know what's going on in his life and to be honest, that damn reunion is now the last thing on his mind. He's got Brittany, Quinn and how much he's fucked up to process and think about, and he really doesn't know what's going on between him and Brittany now, which means he can't say yes to Quinn and go without either feeling guilty or without hurting Brittany. If it would even hurt Brittany; would she even care?
Fuck. This is why friendship is somuch easier.
"Quinn... I'm going to be honest here, okay?" He says and something pangs inside his chest. "I'm not entirely sure if I can... Go with you," he tries to explain. "I'm not sure."
Quinn doesn't respond for a few moments, and he just waits, listens nervously to the sound of her breathing.
"Why not?" She finally lands on, and shit, he wishes she hadn't asked that.
"I... I'm just not really sure what's going on at the moment," he replies, shaking his head at himself. "I'm just not sure," he shrugs because it's the only thing he can come up with. "I'll meet you there, though?" He offers, trying not to sound like a complete dick that dates the girl of his high school dreams and then fucks her over when she asks him out. That's really fucking smooth. "We can have a drink together or something?"
He hears the hesitation, he hears Quinn's disappointment before she even voices it and for some reason that he can't explain, the next few words just spill from his mouth.
"Screw it, let's go together."
"Yeah? Are you sure?"
Quinn sounds a hell of a lot happier than a moment ago, but she also sounds like she was expecting that. And now, Santiago's already regretting saying that. Guilt is already pounding at his chest and all he can see in his mind is bright blue eyes and sun kissed hair. Shit!
"Yeah, Q. That's be great. I'll pick you up from yours at like, 6:30?"
"That's perfect. I'll see you tomorrow, Lopez,"she purrs, but he feels nothing.
"Mmmhmm, I'll see you tomorrow."
The line goes dead and Santiago slaps his palm against his forehead.
Why did he just agree to that?
//
He doesn't get any sleep that night, just stares at his phone and waits, hoping that Brittany might respond to one of his four texts.
The clock above his bed ticks with every second that passes, and he counts them as he stares at his phone, wishing that it would buzz, but it never does.
And on the 14,422nd second, sleep comes over him and pulls him under.
//
The first thought he has when he wakes is how much he's now dreading the reunion.
He groans at the sunlight filtering in from the window, and he curses at himself for not having the foresight to shut the blinds last night. Rolling out of bed, he pads towards it and shuts them, growling to himself beneath his breath as he trips his way back to the bed, face-planting onto it.
There's pretty much nothing inside of him that wants to go now. It's only been two days and he's already wanting to head back to New York and just forget about all this shit. If he'd never come, he wouldn't have gone on a date with Quinn Fabray, kissed her, then the very next day gone third base with his best friend, almost slept with her and then screwed over all of them, including himself.
He would've never done any of it and now he's wishing he'd never opened that damn invitation.
He rolls over onto his back and stares at the ceiling, tucking one hand beneath his head whilst the fingers of the other drums along his toned stomach. Would it be better if he just packed up and left for New York today? Would Brittany get more pissed at him, and would Quinn be upset, too? He knows that it probably isn't the wisest idea, to just leave his problems behind and run away, it's not the right thing to do, but it would be a hell of a lot easier than having to deal with Brittany and Quinn, but in whichever way he looks at it, he's not going to win.
If he chooses to take Quinn to the reunion like he said, Brittany will find out somehow and that'll hurt her, and that's the last thing Santiago wants to do.
On the other hand though, if he doesn't take Quinn, not only does he screw her over, but he doesn't give his eighteen year old self what he deserves. Quinn Fabray was his high school dream, and he might not want it now, but he owes it to himself.
But that still leads back to Brittany. Every idea he seems to have ends up with Brittany hating him, or their friendship never being the same.
He doesn't want it to be the same though. He could take Brittany, and sure, screw Quinn over, but would that matter if he got Brittany out of all of this?
Fuck, he doesn't know.
But... He could find out.
With that thought in mind, he reaches for his phone and dials her number.
//
The line seems to ring a million times before there's a click and then the sound of breathing. Santiago stills, sucking his lip into his mouth and chewing on it nervously, wanting to say something to make this situation better, but he doesn't know what would do that.
Instead, he settles for a hushed, "Hey."
Brittany hesitates down the other end, and he scrunches his face up, hating this. It's a long twenty seconds before she replies.
"Hey, San."
Hearing the smile in her words makes his heart skips and a smile of his own crosses his lips. He slumps back down onto the bed, pressing his free hand to his forehead and stares at the ceiling.
"Are... Are you okay?" He asks, immediately cursing himself for asking that. What a stupid fucking question.
"I'm... I'm fine," she breathes. "Just a little tired."
The thought whether she couldn't sleep runs through his head, making the smile grow wider seeing as he did the same thing, but then he panics. What if she couldn't go to sleep for other reasons? Not because she was thinking about him, but because she was regretting what happened? Fuck.
"Me too," he settles on, dropping his hand to the tie on his sleep shorts. "You're still going tonight, right?"
"Yeah, I am." He can hear the nod in her words, some other type of shuffling, too. "Are you?"
"Yeah, yeah," he bobs his head to himself and sits up, running a hand through his scruffy hair. He's not sure whether he should tell Brittany about taking Quinn, whether she would care. He's not sure if it'd be better to just turn up, let Brittany see them together and get it over and done with in that way. But then again, if she does care—he thinks she does, but he's not sure—wouldn't that hurt her more? Damn it. When did things get so damn complicated?
"But, um... I'm—I'm actually... Quinn rang me last night..." He hears the hitch in her breath and squeezes his eyes shut. "She... ugh, asked me if we could... Go together. Like, a date..." Actually, he doesn't know if it is a date, so he corrects himself, "I think."
Brittany's quiet for a long while and he balls his fist, pressing it against his mouth as he waits for her response, but it doesn't come quick enough and he finds himself talking before he can stop the words flowing from his mouth.
"I just... I don't know if that's okay. I mean—I've said yeah, but... I want to make sure you're okay with that." He shakes his head and squeezes his eyes shut. "'Cause if you're not then I can just tell Quinn—"
"It's fine," Brittany cuts in and he jerks his head back, hand dropping from his face. "It's fine. I don't mind." He swallows, disappointment surging through him. "I'm gonna—Sam and I are going together, anyway."
Piping hot jealousy pours through him, slicing through his chest and he's never known a feeling this strong. His jaw clenches, teeth clamping down hard and his nostrils flare as he stares at his reflection in the mirror across from him. But then it strikes him he doesn't know the context in which they're going. It could be friendly, and they live together so he can't make assumptions or play the jealousy card just yet.
"Oh, right. Like, friends going together?"
"Erm... No, actually," she responds and that feeling starts again, pulsing through him. "He asked me out like... A few weeks back and I said no but," he hears her lick her lips. "He asked me again when I got home yesterday..." she trails off and Santiago gets it.
"Yeah," he says curtly. "Sure. You're going with Sam as a date. I get it."
He knows how short and blunt he's being but he's pissed off. How can Brittany do that? Go with fucking Sam fucking Evans, her roommate and the guy Brittany said not even 24 fucking hours ago that she wasn'tinterested in. How can she go from that, to kissing him and then going to the fucking reunion with some other guy as her date?
"Well you're going with Quinn, so I don't see the difference," she fires back and he tenses, realization smacking him in the face. He immediately stands from the bed, fists curling against his shorts and keeps his voice low as he speaks.
"Is that why you're doing it?" He growls. "To spite me?"
"No," Brittany defends. "I didn't even know you were going with Quinn until a minute ago."
Santiago narrows his eyes. "So why are you going with him then?"
"Why are you going with Quinn?"
Heat bubbles inside of him as she fires back his question. Can he never just get a fucking straight answer? "Because she asked me."
"And Sam asked me."
They're both breathing hard by the time they're stopped shooting answers at each other and Santiago slams his fist against the wall, pressing his forehead against the space only seconds after. This is such bullshit. How can Brittany be going with Sam? After last night, after... Well, what happened between them.
"Fine. I guess I'll see you there," he grunts out. "Bye."
"Yeah, whatever. Bye."
The line goes dead and Santiago throws his phone across the room.
Fuck this reunion.
//
He's not even the slightest bit nervous as he walks up to the old Fabray household where Quinn's staying.
Apparently Judy and Russel split up a few years back, and both of them moved elsewhere, but they couldn't possibly give up the house where they raised their child and so they kept it. God only knows they could afford to, and he guesses it came in handy seeing as Quinn didn't have to stay at one of the cheap ass motels that are scattered around Lima.
Anyway, he walks up to the front door and raps on it three times, standing back and tucking his hands into his pants. He's not too dressed up for the reunion, just smart casual in a pair of beige chinos, a white shirt and a dark jacket over the top. Truth be told, he couldn't really be bothered to dress up, hell,he almost called Quinn, told her he wouldn't be coming and hopped on a flight home, but he chose not to. That would be a pathetic way out and he's not a pussy. He knows facing Brittany would be the braver thing and so goddamnit he's going to.
Quinn skips out the door with a smile on her face, dressed in an above the knee burgundy dress, decorated with black lace shaped into patterns. Santiago would be blind to think that she doesn't look hot, but he's sort of not really focusing on that at the moment;there are other, more important things occupying his brain.
"Hey, Lopez," she greets, smiling up at him. "Looking good."
Santiago offers a light tipped smile back and kisses her on the cheek. He's just trying to be polite and gentlemanly to make up for the lack of interest he now has in her. "You look good too, Quinn. Shall we go?"
She nods and takes his arm as he offers it out. They walk to the car and he plays the gentleman, opening the door and helping her into the seat, but he can't stop thinking about how he would rather be doing this with another blonde.
He has a feeling he's going to be doing those comparisons all night.
//
They get to McKinley High and there are a few teenagers wearing fluorescent jackets, waving the cars that come in to the specific parking spaces. This just screams Rachel Berry, being all organized and shit and he resists the urge to roll his eyes as he sees a car at the closest spot to the school with a gold star on the number plate.
They park up, Santiago slides out the car and helps Quinn out too, and they walk up to the school without any contact. He doesn't want people to get the wrong impression, to think that they're either together or that they're just hooking up for the weekend, and so he sticks his hands in his pockets and squares his shoulders as they enter the school and follow the signs to the gymnasium.
(Not that he gets why there are signs. Everyone at this reunion used to come here and he's pretty sure the layout won't have changed but whatever. That's Berry for you.)
There's a table next to the gymnasium doors with a small queue of people in front of it, and behind the table stands one Rachel Berry. Santiago expects that same annoying little dwarf that he knew back in high school, but he's shocked to see a much more grown up version of her. Her hair's longer, smile brighter and honestly, she's pretty damn hot now, but he'd never admit that out loud.
Next to him, Quinn leans over as they join the queue and whispers in his ear, "Well look at Berry. All grown up," but all he can do is nod, agreeing with her statement whilst tapping his foot nervously on the ground and peering around him, down the halls and in through the small, wired windows on the gymnasium doors to see if he can spot Brittany.
But no luck, and they slowly move up the line until they're faced with Rachel Berry, grinning up at them with bright eyes.
"Quinn! Santiago! You came!"
Santiago presses his lips together and bobs his head. "Seems like it," he says and watches Rachel's eyes drift over him, her eyebrows moving up little by little the more of him she takes in. He smirks to himself and looks down, knowing full well that he's being checked out right now.
He wonders how many people are going to do that tonight.
"You look..." Rachel's eyes flicker up to meet his. "You look good," she says, clearing her throat and looking back down at the table, obviously trying to hide the blush that's pretty obvious in this light. "So are you two together?" She asks as she begins sorting through the name badges to find theirs.
"No," Santiago quickly cuts in and feels hazel eyes slide to him. "Not together. Just friends." He coughs. "Coming to the reunion. Together."
Quinn's arm slides through is and she throws him a look before turning back to Rachel slowly. "We did go out on a date though," she chirps and Rachel's head snaps up, looking between them.
"You did?"
Quinn nods and leans her head on his shoulder. "We did, and even though he doesn't think it, this is our second date."
It pisses him off because this isn't a date. They're just friends and he wants to correct her, hell, he's about to, but then, because the world's out to get him, two pairs of footsteps pad up the hallway behind them and one is too distinct for him notto know whose they are. He stiffens, breath hitching in his throat and slowly takes the sticker Rachel holds out to him as she glances between them, like she's trying to figure something out but he doesn't pay much attention.
Not when he can feel Brittany walking up behind him, not when he can smell the sweet tang of her perfume, not when he can feel the footsteps slowing down and certainly not when fucking Samcoughs behind them and mutters a low, "Hey, guys."
Because then, he's too damn angry and fucking jealous that Brittany's here with another guy to focus on why Rachel's looking between him and Quinn like she's missing something, or how this most certainly isn'ta date.
He doesn't want to seem too eager though. He doesn't want to show how he's feeling because then Brittany wins. He doesn't want to let Brittany affect him like this if she's going to turn up with another guy because fuck,why should he? Brittany's the one that skipped out on him last night. Brittany's the one that wasn't willing to give up bringing Sam as a date like he was with Quinn. Brittany's the one that started this little game and he'll be fucked if he's going to let her win.
So he takes his time. He pats his sticker badge onto the right side of his chest and signs the book Rachel's laid out on the table. He smiles at her, asks how she is and pointedly ignores Sam's greeting to him, Brittany's too, and finishes readjusting his jacket before he turns around and looks at them.
But by then, Quinn's staring at him like she doesn't have a clue what's going on, Sam looks like he's not sure whether to keep talking or to shut up and Brittany's just glaring at him with an incredulous expression.
So what does he do? He smirks, grabs Quinn's hand and squeezes it gently.
"Come on, Q. We don't want to hold up the line," he says and tugs Quinn toward the gymnasium door, holds it open for her and flashes a forced grin at the blonde couple before he whispers, "We'll see you inside," and disappears amongst the throng of people, heading straight for the free bar.
At least there's one good thing here tonight.
//
About twenty minutes into the reunion, he's standing by the bar on his own—Quinn's popped off to the 'ladies' room'—and Sam comes over.
He hears the blonde guy order two drinks, one beer and a cranberry and vodka and shakes his head when Sam says yes to ice for the mixer. Brittany hates ice in her drink and it gives him this weird wave of satisfaction that crashes through him when he thinks that he knows that, and Sam doesn't.
And just because he's been drinking a little—he's not drunk, but he's on his way—he decides it's a good idea to point it out.
"She doesn't like ice," he says, swirling his beer in the bottle as he leans on the bar top.
Sam looks to him, confused. "What?"
"Brittany," Santiago elaborates, almost rolling his eyes as Sam's lack of intelligence. "She doesn't like ice in her drinks."
"And why's that?"
"Shouldn't you know?" He says, running his tongue along his teeth and slowly twisting his head to meet Sam's eyes. "You are living together, after all."
Sam wets his lips and straightens up, resting his hand on the bar. "Okay, what's the deal with you two?" He asks outright, and Santiago stills. "There's something going on and I need to know what it is." He chooses to stay quiet. "I'm blonde but I'm not stupid, so spill."
He stares at the liquid moving around in bottle for a whole thirty seconds before he takes a pull and then turns to Sam, now facing him. "We're just friends," he answers because it's true. That's what they are, even if they're currently going through a rough patch. "And you're here on a date with her, so why you so worried?"
Something softens in Sam's eyes as he takes in the words and looks over Santiago for a long moment, but then he steps forward and lowers his head a little, meeting dark brown eyes.
"Look, man... I don't want to start any trouble," he says honestly and Santiago sort of hates that Sam's actually kind of a decent guy. "So if there's something going on between you two, I just wanna know." He pauses and Santiago can't help but wonder why he'd offer to step off, especially when it's a girl like Brittany.Whoever gives her up that easily would be a fucking fool. "I'll step off and tell her that we're just friends 'cause I don't wanna go head to head with you man. I know I'm not going to win, so you just need to say the words."
And for a moment, Santiago seriously considers saying the words. They're right there on the tip of his tongue, ready to spill, but then he thinks about it, like, reallythinks about it.
Sam's a decent guy. He's not exactly the brightest color in the box of crayons but he's nice enough that it doesn't really matter. He's handsome, Santiago has to admit, and he knows that Sam's actually pretty loving. He would never intentionally hurt Brittany and hell, even now he's proving that he's a nice guy because he's offering to back off Brittany just because there's a slight chance Santiago might be interested in her.
Not a lot of guys do that anymore, and Santiago hates to admit that actually, he probably wouldn't himself. And as he looks at Sam, he realizes Sam's actually a better choice for Brittany.
Sam's here in Lima. Sam can love and support Brittany, be there for her and they can share their lives together, and Santiago can't do that. Santiago's life is so drastically different from Brittany's; he's now a city guy, he's ESPN's top sports anchor with a studio apartment in Manhattan and he's heading home tomorrow. Sam probably even knows Brittany better than Santiago does now after spending all that time with her, too.
See, Brittany and Sam always stayed small town people, always stayed in Lima and it makes sense that they would stay together, raise a blonde haired family and buy a damn house only a few blocks from their childhood ones. It makes sense and due to movies, Santiago knows that big city people and small town people just don't fit together anywhere along the line. They can't and that's just a reality Santiago has to face.
Which is what leads him to say this:
"No. There's nothing between me and Brittany."
Sam seems convinced almost immediately and Santiago thanks his lying skills as all the anger sinks out of him, being replaced by something that feels a hell of a lot like regret. Maybe a dash of sadness is lingering in there, too.
"Yeah? You're cool with me and Britt then?"
Santiago chews on the inside of his cheek, but eventually nods. "Yeah, I'm cool with it."
A wide, toothy grin is flashed his way as the bartender slides over two drinks towards Sam who picks them up, but stays looking at Santiago as he says, "Thanks for being honest, man," and then walks away, back to Brittany.
And when Sam finally hands the drink over to Brittany—with ice—Brittany just sips on it and doesn't even wince at the cubes of ice bobbing around the liquid in the cup when they touch her lips.
Maybe Santiago doesn't really know her anymore.
//
He's been watching Brittany for a good part of an hour now, and he can't get his head around how she's acting. Last night she was kissing him, running her hands through his hair and telling him that she needed him and now she's over the other side of the room with her arms draped around Sam's neck as they dance, her face nuzzled into Sam's neck as she laughs at something he said, and she's just generally acting like nothing ever happened between them last night.
Seriously, what the fuck?
About ten minutes ago, Quinn apparently had enough of Santiago's lack of interest in, well, pretty much anything besides Brittany—not that she knows Brittany's on his mind—and squeezed his arm before telling him she was going to go and talk to Puck as the guy slid through the doorwithouthis mohawk, which of course caused a ruckus to the half the people at this damn reunion.
He's now leaning against the bar, fully taking advantage of the free bar and just glaring at pretty much anyone that interacts with Brittany because he isn't. He thought they would be cool after last night. He thought they might be able to just brush it away and push it under the rug. He thought that despite their rather short conversation on the phone this morning that in person they'd be different, but Brittany's shown absolutely no interest in talking to him and honestly, he's just that stubborn that he's not going to either if she doesn't want to.
That was the plan anyway, before Sam's hand starts sliding down Brittany's back to a dangerously low level, and well... He just sort of snaps.
He realizes far too late what he's just done and that he has absolutely no explanation as to why he did it. All he knows is that he couldn't stand watching Sam touch her and make her laugh like that and that he had to do somethingto stop it. Which apparently, just happened to be marching over to them and wrenching Sam's hand away from Brittany's lower back.
Except now he's looking between wide, quizzical eyes and he seriously doesn't know what the hell to say.
"San!" Brittany exclaims, glancing guiltily toward Sam. "What are you doing?"
"Yeah, bro, what was that?" Sam chimes in and Santiago watches the his hand move back to Brittany's waist, so he snatches out and yanks it away again, harder this time, earning a satisfying whimper from the blonde guy.
"Santiago!" Brittany yells properly this time, pushing him by the chest a little and easing herself into the gap between him and Sam. "Stop it."
He clenches his jaw and glares at Sam, but he doesn't have time to say anything or to shove Sam again because Brittany's grabbing his elbow and tugging him out the gymnasium into the hallway. He twirls around, losing his stability as the mix of alcohol and adrenaline rushes to his head but snaps a hand out to one of the lockers, leaning against it in a way he hopes to be casual.
From the way Brittany's looking at him he's not sure it worked.
Both of them are breathing heavily, it echoed by the emptiness of the hallway but Santiago doesn't want to turn around. He doesn't even want to look at Brittany right now because honestly, he's kind of scared what's going to come. He knows he shouldn't have reacted like that to Sam touching Brittany, especially after telling Sam he was fine with those two, and even though he doubts Brittany knows about that conversation, it's still enough to make him panic.
"Santiago," Brittany calls him and he barely even twists his neck, allowing her to see his profile.
"What?"
Brittany shakes her head in disappointment. "What was that?" She asks, crossing her arms.
He straightens up, turning around to lean his back against the lockers, arms crossed over his chest and foot propped up against the bottom row. "Just thought it was a bit inappropriate for him to be touching you like that at a damn high school reunion," he tries, knowing full well Brittany's going to see through his bullshit.
And she does. She drops her eyes from his, clucking her tongue against the roof of her mouth and begins laughing dryly beneath her breath. He just watches her, waiting for her to say something but she doesn't and it irritates him. It really fucking irritates him because Brittany tugged him out her. He didn't want to be here; he was perfectly fine standing in front of Sam, a little pissed off, a little drunk and without a clue as to what to say after tearing his hand away from Brittany.
He was perfectly fine... ish, and now Brittany's not going to say anything? She's just going to stand there and laugh at him? What the fuck is that?
"Britt, don't fucking—" his eyes clench shut and he forces himself to take a deep, calming breath. "Just don't fucking laugh at me. This isn'tfunny."
Brittany's head snaps up, eyes narrowing and face dropping. She steps forward intimidatingly and Santiago actually finds himself scared of the way her nostrils are flaring, of how her eyes are hard as they glare at him and how she seems to be matching his height, if not towering over him despite him being taller than her. He doesn't think he's ever seen Brittany so damn angry before, and even though the majority of his mind is focused on that, there's a little part that's actually attracted to how freaking hotangry Brittany is.
"You don't think I know that?" Brittany speaks and Santiago blinks at her. "I'm laughing because this is so notfunny. This is so far from funny it's whatever the hell the opposite of funny is and there's nothing left to do but laugh."
Dark brows scrunch together. "Nothing left to do? So what does this mean? What are you saying?"
Brittany takes in a deep breath, exhaling through her nose and sucking her lips into her mouth, worrying them for a few seconds. She stays still and quiet, tightening her jaw rhythmically and it suddenly sinks in what she's trying to say. She doesn't know what to do. She doesn't know where this leaves them and he's pretty sure that means their friendship is no longer intact. Clearly he didn't think it'd be the same, but he thought they could get through it. They always used to have little arguments and just breezed past them, but there's something more final about Brittany's response this time, something much more terrifying.
Yet still, in spite of those thoughts, he waits to hear if what he's thinking is true. After all, he doesn't want to assume and freak out for no good reason.
"I'm saying..." It's said through a long, exhaled breath and Santiago tenses, waiting the verdict. "I'm saying that I think after this weekend..." Brittany looks up with sad, blue eyes. "That maybe we should leave us for a bit. Not get in contact and forget about what happened last night."
Hurt and confusion pulses through him, hot and heavy. On one hand he's understanding perfectly what Brittany's saying, but on the other, he doesn't. What does 'leaving us' include? What does that freaking mean? Does that mean he has to never speak to her again, or just not speak for a while? Or is that Brittany's way of subtly telling him that she doesn't actually want to get in contact and forget about everything between them?
For fuck sake! Why can't he just get a straight answer for once!?
The anger gets so much that one moment he's staring at Brittany, demanding an answer, but the next, curling his fist against the dent in the metal of the locker he's just hit. He's breathing harder than before, clamping his jaw shut and feeling the skin on his face tighten around the bone as he tries not to focus on how he's feeling.
Except he realizes that's not what he really needs to know. He doesn't need to know how he's feeling because he already knows. He just needs to know how Brittany's feeling, but all his hesitations are holding him back.
Fuck.
"I don't want that," he spits out through bared teeth. "I don't want to not talk to you, Britt but—"
"Why?"
It's said a lot softer than Santiago wants it to be said, but he can't turn back time, and instead lets Brittany's tone soothe over him, pouring serenity and calm into his veins until he's able to speak once more.
"I just—We're friends, Britt... But then there's Quinn and you—" He chokes on the words, desperately searching through his muddled brain for a way to say what he means, to ask what he wants to. It's so much harder than he thought it'd be but then again, when you want something, you've got to earn it, no matter how hard the journey to that thing may be.
Taking in a deep breath, he turns to face Brittany, regulating his breathing and letting his facial muscles relax into a softer expression. "If I... If I asked you... How you felt," he gulps and wets his lips. "About me... What would you say?"
It's nerve wracking in a way he never knew it could be because he's never had to do this. Since he lost all that weight, girls just come to him and clearly show their feelings with actions, and God only knows before then he only had eyes for Quinn and it wasn't like she even showed the slightest bit interest in him back then. He's never had to tell a girl he likes them, which is stupid because he's twenty five, and how can a twenty five year old never have told anyone they like them?
Maybe he did back in like, elementary or middle school or something, but that wasn't serious. He's never had to declare seriousfeelings for someone, and doing this for the first time is so frightening. It's utterly terrifying because it's only now that he's realizing what he's putting on the line. Sure, he hasn't actually told Brittany out straight he likes her but shit, he kissed her yesterday, he's just asked her how she feels about him and if that doesn't scream 'I LIKE YOU' then he doesn't know what the hell does.
So he just waits in anticipation, clutching to the last of the nerves and patience he has even though all he wants to do is reach out, grab Brittany and shake the answer out of her.
He understands that she needs time though, but it still doesn't quell the anxiety he feels.
"I..." Brittany starts, pausing when her throat runs dry to swallow. Her eyes flick up to meet dark ones and Santiago lowers his head, showing her he's willing to listen and to understand whatever she has to say. "I don't know what I would say," she breathes out, lifting a shoulder. "I don't know how I feel."
"Yes you do," he fires back, shocked by his own speed of response and hell, shocked by how bold he's being with his response. "You do because you know how I—how I feel about you," he finishes, panting hard. "You do know."
Brittany looks away, his words too much for her. She shifts her weight from one leg to the other and slowly glances back, sucking her lips into her mouth once more. "Why are you asking me then?" She says, shrugging. "If you know that I feel the same way you feel about me then why are we playing these games? What's the point?"
There's logic in it somewhere, he knows, and as he processes the questions and words over and over, he slowly realizes what that logic is. But it pisses him off because it's like Brittany's implying that he'sthe one that started those games. Sure, he was slightly responsible for it, but he's just as responsible as she is. Two can play at that game and two fucking well did.
"You started these fucked up little games, Britt," he comments and watches her eyebrows shoot up, head jerk back. "Youran out my bedroom on and then accepted Sam's fucking date," he steps toward her, their faces closing in on each other and stares into her eyes. "So don't ask me that question like I'm the one who fucking started this."
"I ran out because youfroze up, Santiago. I wouldn't have frozen up if you'd just laughed it off or maybe carried on or whatever..." She trails off, glancing away but the tips of her ears tint pink.
"My mom walked in on us!" He points out, trying not to focus on how hot she is when mad. It's actually really kind of distracting. "I'd say that's okay if I froze up because of that."
"No, after she walked in on us, San. After. You didn't say anything and you were freaking out. Don't tell me you weren't because I know you." She takes a step back, twisting around but going back on it straight away, tucking one arm beneath her other whilst the hand on it plays with her bottom lip. "I know what you look like when you're happy, when you're sad, when you're cold, hungry, disappointed, jealous, angry, bored and now I've got horny to add to the list too—" Santiago can't help but smirk at that as Brittany steps closer, unfazed by her words. —"And San, you were freaking out so don't lie." She shakes her head, staring so deep into his eyes he's almost forced to look away. "You can't tell me you weren't."
The fact that Brittany knows so much about him, has taken time out to learn what he looks like with every mood and remember them catches him off guard. He takes a step forward, tilting her chin up with a curled finger and looks down at her softly, unable to ignore the way her heart's flipping inside her chest. He can't ignore it because it's mixed with this intense fluttering, this incredible warmth and this overwhelming urge to kiss her.
But he has to tell her. He has to explain to her the reasons behind him freezing because he did. He can't deny it and the longer he goes without explaining it, the further they'll grow apart and he doesn't want that, not now he's just got Brittany back after six years without contact. Not now he's spent this weekend with her, a weekend he'd never take back because it's made him realize things he never knew, made him learn things and made him fully acknowledge things that he never did before.
And he wouldn't take back any of those lessons, those realizations or acknowledgments for anything, not if it means he gets Brittany.
"Fine," he breathes out, his eyes darting between each of hers and finger still warm beneath her chin. "I was freaking out," he admits, nodding, seeing the way Brittany's face falls. But he won't let her break out of his grasp or his sight. He can't; he needs to explain. "I did freak out but not for the reasons you seem to think."
He can feel his big speech come on. The big speech that every romance movie or novel seems to have which gets him the girl and he's praying right now that even though it's cheesy, even though it's so cliché, he wants to say it because now he gets why the big speech is there in the first place. He gets it and he almost smiles at the thought.
"I was kissing you... I had my hands running over your body, marveling in your perfection and Britt... My mom walked in on us. She saw me in a moment that I didn't want anyone else to see." He shrugs, wets his lips. "My mom ruined a moment between me and my best friend when we were about to cross a line that I really wanted to cross, if I'm honest."
Brittany tries to duck and hide her blush, but he holds her strong, wanting to see how she reacts to his words. He needs to see it because if he's going to admit how he feels, he needs to know she feels the same way she does. It's crucial.
"Britt," he starts again, shifting so close he can feel the warmth radiating off her body. "I was about to have sex with my best friend and I don't really know how you weren't freaking out about that," he gets out through a slight laugh. "Not just because we were about to have sex, but because someone was breaking a moment that I never knew we could have."
His heart picks up its rate as he speaks, and once he sees no attempt to run away from his words, and no flinching, he sucks in a deep breath, shuffles that little bit further forward until their bodies are pressed together, Brittany's hands coming to rest upon the plane of his chest, and joins the hand he has on her face with the other, cupping her cheeks, his fingertips resting upon the hinge of her jaw.
"What happened yesterday was a big thing, Britt... And if you hadn't ran off, I would've told you that." He lifts a shoulder because it's true. He may have frozen, may not have spoken, but the words were ready to roll off the tip of his tongue. His mind and heart were ready, even if his body wasn't. "I would've told you that, along with the fact that I never knew how much I wanted that—how much I wanted us until that moment." He exhales heavily and feels his lips curve upward as Brittany's eyes soften, her fingers toying lightly with the buttons of his shirt. "Because I couldn't and don't want anything less. I don't want to nothave you, Britt... That's just—I'm not saying I can't have it like that because I can..." He shrugs one final time. "I just don't want to."
Brittany's head ducks, chin tucking to her chest but her eyes look up through her lashes. It's like all of a sudden she's gone bashful and it makes his heart flutter to think that he made her do that. His words made her do that. Maybe finally he's saying the right thing.
"You... You really mean that?" She whispers, and Santiago doesn't hesitate for a second before he's grinning and nodding.
"Yeah, Britt. I really mean that."
The fingers on his chest slowly drift upward, toying with the edge of his collar as they gaze into each others eyes. They're both smiling, reading things that neither of them can verbalize and he shifts forward, his hands slipping down from her face and settling on her hips, thumbs rubbing circles over the protrusion of her hipbones.
Brittany glances down, breaking the eye contact as she asks, "So... What does this mean?"
And Santiago just rolls his eyes playfully. He doesn't know how she doesn't know what this means because he wants her. He likes her and wants to be with her, but he's not sure how he can say that in any other way, so instead he whispers her name until she tilts her head up, and then he just kisses her.
It's soft, hesitant and slow at first, Santiago making a pleased sigh against her warm lips as they suck in his bottom one, a tongue brushing over the edge of it and he opens it his mouth. Then she can't hold back her moan as his tongue brushes over her, his hands pulling her closer and he finds himself smirking against her mouth, his hand twitching against her stomach as the need for more grows. It starts off as little tingles, gathering low in his stomach but then Brittany's hands slide up from his chest, loop around him neck and pull him impossibly closer, her eyelashes fluttering against his cheek as the kiss grows deeper, grows sloppy.
From there it doubles, triples, multiplies until he can't seem to fight the heat that overcomes him, and it seems neither can she because she nips at his lip, sucking his tongue into her mouth and moaning when his hips jerk forward.
He sucks in a sharp breath as soft hands slide up through his hair, gripping it and her tongue runs along his teeth when she pushes his tongue back into his mouth. The kiss grows hungry, almost animalistic, and Santiago can feel all the blood rushing to his groin, making him press up against the fabric of his boxers as her hands make a path down his chest, over the defined muscles of his abdomen. Two long fingers hook into his belt buckle, pulling his hips into hers and he moans against her mouth as they begin rocking together.
"San," she breathes out as they pull back for air. Her eyes are wide but so, so dark. They're slightly hooded and he can see the arousal flashing behind him and can only imagine what it's like to touch her, to feel her. That single thought shoots straight to his crotch, making him strain further against his pants and he sucks in his lips to prevent the moan from spilling out between them.
"Where?" He asks, knowing the question before it's asked. She just stares, panting heavily and looking like she can't wait another moment but both of them know this isn't an appropriate place. This is their old high school and all their old friends are just through the wall to their left, so no matter how badly they want each other, how badly they want to continue where they left off the other night, they need go somewhere else.
Fast.
"Your place," she gets out. "Your parents are at mine."
Despite the heavy, erotic atmosphere, he manages a small chuckle. "How is it you know where my parents are and I don't?"
She doesn't answer him, just winks and pulls away reluctantly, grabbing his hand as she leads him down through the hallways and out of school. They're in the parking lot before he knows it and she's dropping his hand, twirling around with the biggest grin on her face and he just follows her, his eyes unable to stray onto anything else. She really is the most magnificent thing, his most magnificent thing, and he can't quite believe that.
But it's true, and the sooner they get back to his place, the sooner he'll be able to prove that.
//
The second they get to his room, her hands are on his belt buckle, pulling it open, and her lips are pressing against his, pulling one between her teeth and nipping lightly. His hands slide down to her waist, squeezing gently and he moans as she walks them back toward his bed.
The back of his knees hit the edge, and he falls down into a seated position, watching as Brittany yanks his chinos free from his legs and throws them into the darkness of the room behind him. It's sort of weird because he's usually the one in charge. He's the one taking control, and by now he's usually picking up the girl, urging her legs around his waist and bucking into her as he flicks open the strap of her bra, his tongue sliding over hers.
But he has nothing to complain about, not when Brittany's dropping to her knees and smirking up at him. Not when she's grabbing him through his boxers, rubbing expertly as she kisses her way down his chest after pushing off his shirt, running her tongue along the grooves of his abs and then tucking her fingers into the waistband and letting him spring free against his stomach. And especially not when she's running the flat of her tongue along the underside of his shaft and then covering him, taking as much of him in as she can and beginning to bob her head.
He groans as she throws her hand into the mix, twisting her fist and pumping hard as the heat builds in the back of his spine. Her tongue flicks over the head of his cock, and he throws his head back, fisting the bed sheets beside him with one hand and grabbing the back of her head with the other, his fingers tangling into blonde hair.
It's almost embarrassing how close he is already and before he can embarrass himself publicly, he grabs her chin when she looks up at him with a smirk and splutters out something unintelligible, something along the lines of having to stop doing that because she's just too damn good at it. She just smirks and he tugs her up, pressing their lips together and wrapping his hands around the back of her knees, pulling her until she's straddling him.
He suddenly becomes incredibly aware that she's wearing far too many clothes and begins changing that, pulling her top over her head, her hair falling in loose curls around her shoulders, and unbuttoning her skirt, pulling it free from her waist until she's sitting atop him in nothing but underwear.
Their hips rock together, and he can feel how wet she is through the fabric of her underwear as his hands drift down, fingers sliding over the damp fabric. She groans into his mouth, pale arms wrapping around his neck and he honest to God can't believe they're doing this, and this time they're actually going through with it. The other thing he can't stop thinking about either is how they went for so long without knowing this connection, without knowing how well they could fit together, how well their hands know each other and how much they want this.
And people say ignorance is bliss.
His hands slide around from her hips, up the plane of her back and stop at the strap of her bra. His fingers flick it open with practiced ease and she smiles against his mouth as her hands come back around, cupping his cheeks when the rocking gets a little faster, when the friction gets a little stronger and fuck, he's completely naked and he's about two seconds away from blowing his load.
Brittany drops her hands from his face to let him tug her bra off, and he breaks the kiss, beginning to trail hot, opened mouthed ones against her jaw and down her neck. She groans, pressing down her hips intermittently because she's growing less impatient with every second, and he smirks against her skin, poking his tongue out to soothe over the pot he just sucked into his mouth.
The arousal within him tightens when he drops his hands, pushing them between them enough so his eyes can trace over her body. She's perfect, something he thought he'd only be able to imagine in his wildest dreams, and he bites down on his lip as he leans forward, taking a nipple into his mouth and flicking his tongue over the hardened nub. Her hands are suddenly in his hair again, gripping and pulling his head closer against her chest and he moans, letting his hands wander down to her lower back, slipping beneath the fabric of her underwear to grab at her ass, fingers massaging the flesh gently.
"Fucking hell, San," she gasps at one particular buck of his hips.
He releases her nipple with a pop, but only turns his head to the neglected one to give it the same treatment as she continues to moan his name, the rock of their hips getting sloppier and sloppier. He can feel her, and wants nothing more than to rip the last offending piece of fabric from her, but he knows that won't show her how he feels. It's already been too quick and he wants to make this last, even if he knows the second he's inside her, it won't last for too long.
The thought of being inside her makes him bite down on the skin of her neck, and she yanks at his hair until he jerks back, letting her nipple brush over his chin as he looks up at her. She's breathing hard and heavy, panting down at him and he wants to say something, wants to tell her how much he wants her, how beautiful she looks and how he can't wait until they make that final connection, but the words just don't form in his mouth.
So instead he grabs her thighs and stands, turning them around and crawling up the bed, dropping her so he can settle between her thighs. For a moment he pauses, unable to figure out how he got this damn lucky, but then quicker than a flash, she's pulling him down into a deep, deep kiss, her tongue sliding into his mouth and flicking against the roof of it.
Then he's unable to think about anything else but her beneath him, his cock trapped between their stomachs and how he's so fucking glad there's a box of condoms in the top drawer of his bedside table because otherwise what's going to happen wouldn't be possible.
With that thought, he breaks the kiss and sits on his knees between her legs, reaching over to pull open the drawer and grab a small square wrapper from the box inside. He smiles down at her when she grins up at him, and he can't fight the overwhelming happiness that buzzes within him at the knowledge that in a few seconds they're going to be taking the next step.
Brittany takes the condom from between his fingers, her eyes flicking down between his legs and he cocks his head, eyebrow raising as she slowly tears it open with her teeth, throwing the packet off the side of the bed. He looks down her body, eyes landing on the spot of dampness on the front of her panties and he bites his bottom lip as he stretches forward to peel her underwear away from her.
Her hips buck against his touch, and he smirks, pushing the fabric down her hips until he has to lift her leg to tug it off completely. The moment feels too hot, too intense and he can feel how hard his chest is moving as he looks between her legs, moaning lowly at the moisture he sees.
"I want you so fucking much," he rasps out roughly.
When he looks up, he meets blue eyes and finds a slight blush of pink tinting Brittany's cheeks, and he can't believe she's embarrassed. She's the definition of perfection and he knows he's staring but he can't not. She's just sobeautiful. She's beautiful in every single way and he can't believe he's never seen all her beauty before, not just outside but inside, too. Maybe he was too caught up with Quinn. Maybe he was so focused on her that he never knew what was in front of him the same time.
But now he does know what's in front of him. He knows and he can't believe that Brittany wants him back.
His hands stroke up the soft skin of her thighs, and she groans when he bypasses the area she needs touching the most for her stomach. His fingers map out every inch, stroking over the skin and he gently glides over her breasts, feeling hardened nipples brush over his skin until he stops to appreciate them, kneading them gently. For her part, Brittany reaches down between them, sliding the condom skillfully down his length and he finds it way hotter than it should be, realizing just how turned on he is.
He takes a deep breath as he pulls back his hands, looking between them to see how close they are and groans when a pale hand curls around him, stroking him languidly as they both get themselves ready. It's a big step, they both know it. Hell, they've even talked about it and he gently urges her hand away until he can grab at himself, shifting forward on his knees and lowering his entire body so their chests press together and his dick is running through her wetness.
Their lips hover over each other teasingly, but suddenly it feels like the atmosphere has suddenly got a million times more serious and their eyes lock. Her thighs squeeze gently against his hips and he knows he wants this, he knows she wants it too, but this is a significant moment. This is one that they'll remember for years to come and he wants to make it as special as he can.
But then Brittany makes this weirdly hot noise, somewhere between a beg and somewhere between a moan and he knows his stamina is going to take a serious hit the second he sinks into her.
So he kisses her, trying to calm himself and lets his eyes fall shut as he lowers his hips, nudging her entrance as her hands come around his neck, deepening the kiss. Then he's pressing forward, sliding into her and they're both moaning into the kiss, but Santiago isn't aware of anything else except the way she feels around him, hot and tight. But he wants to be aware of something else, he wants to see this moment, to remember it, and he pulls his lips back so he can see her.
And the second he does, he realizes he's already falling madly in love with this girl.
Brittany's eyes are closed, her head tipped back and mouth open. There's a flush to her cheeks, her neck, and Santiago bites his lip as he pushes further into her, watching the way a little crinkle appears in her brow at him inside of her, the way her jaw falls that little more and how a breathy moan flows out of her. There's a little smile playing at her lips too and her legs squeeze his hips, bucking up slightly, and he knows exactly what he needs to do but this sight in front of him is more than distracting.
Short nails dig into the skin of his back right then, and he acknowledges how he needs more too and begins moving, letting his lips hover over hers, the tips of them barely touching as his hips roll and grind, pleasure sparking throughout them. Brittany grinds up into him and he pushes down, feeling her thighs tighten in pleasure around him with every thrust and he stares into her eyes the second they open, their hearts, souls and bodies connecting in every single way possible.
Sex isn't new to him. Fucking someone isn't new to him either, but making love? Yeah, that's pretty new. He's never done it before, probably because he's never been in love before and it's ridiculous to think that after three days he's fallen head of heels in love with someone, but when he thinks about how that someone is Brittany, suddenly he doesn't think it's so ridiculous.
Especially not when her hands are sliding up to cup his neck. Especially not when she's pulling their foreheads together and staring deeply into his eyes. Especially not when she's panting warm breath against his lips and muttering his name through a breathy moan. And especially not when she's pressing their lips together and smiling into the kiss.
It's all so intense, hot, erotic; but so romantic too that he considers that the sex might be getting to his feelings and emotions, but then he thinks about how he's always been like this with Brittany. How he's always felt this pull towards her but never really known what stimulated that pull, how he's always looked at her with this extra fondness and how he's always wanted something but never knew what that something was.
But now it's so clear. Now it's so clear he wonders how he was so damn blind before because he doesn't think he's ever going to want anything more than he wants Brittany. He never thinks he's going to want anything else besides Brittany because it's just too damn strong.
"San," Brittany groans out, her eyes fluttering shut. "Fuck me harder, please."
She doesn't really need to say it though, because he already knows. It's another thing that shocks him because he would've thought after six years of being apart his ability to read her needs would've faded, but it's nothing like that. If anything he knows it better now and he creates the tiniest of distances between their chests to get a hand between them, sliding it down between her legs and letting the pads of his fingers roll over her clit as he picks up the pace, putting more force into every thrust.
Her hips buck up with every circle he makes, and he's sure to switch them from wide and slow to small and fast, knowing exactly how to push her toward an orgasm. His own builds within him, heavy like pressure at the base of his spine and he can feel himself growing tired as he pumps into her, breathing hard into her mouth as their lips part, touching but not kissing.
The thighs around his hips squeeze impossibly tight, shaking more and more and all he can think about is how much he wants to see her face when she's pushed over the edge. So he moves a little faster, adds more pressure into every thrust and presses down in a way he knows she'll like until Brittany's gasping sharply, back arching off the bed and pushing into him, her arms flinging around his shoulders to pull him down, to pull their heads together and to meet his eyes as her orgasm punches through her.
She lets out a small cry, tightening around him and he knows how close he is, so he works harder and quicker, sliding his free hand down to her thigh to push her leg up toward her chest so he can slide deeper, prolonging her orgasm until she's practically screaming his name.
The feel of her coming aids in his too, and his entire body tenses as he lets himself go, moaning, "Fuck, Brittany," as he pours everything he has into the condom, their lips coming together in a kiss way too soft for what they're doing.
And then they're still for a long moment, both of them trying to catch their breath as they gaze into each others eyes and he begins smiling. She does too, and there's a flutter of movement between them before they're kissing again, lazy and sweet. Their lips brush over each other, curling up against one another and he feels her hands slide up from his neck to his cheeks again, cupping them gently as their kiss slowly parts.
He lifts up a little, because he realizes he's leaving all his dead weight on top of her, and pulls out, loving the way her face reacts and he realizes how many things have jumped to the top of his 'favorite things ever' list this weekend, all of which include Brittany.
Rolling to the side, he lets out a long exhale and feels exhaustion sink into his bones and muscles. His lungs are working at a slower pace now and not a second passes before Brittany curls up into him, burying her head beneath his chin and throwing an arm over his midsection, hands clutching at his waist. He grins, looking down at her, and she must sense it because she tilts her head up, smiling up at him with sleepy eyes, and he finds it both amusing and adorable.
He strokes a hand over a lock of hair that's fallen and lets his eyes flicker over her face, taking in everything and knowing by the way she's staring at him that she doesn't regret what just happened for a second. He doesn't either, he never thought he would, and he tips her chin up with finger beneath it to press one last kiss to her lips before they both settle down and sleep takes over them.
//
In the morning when the sun's rising and slowly filtering in through the blinds, they're still in bed, Santiago on his back, staring at the ceiling in deep thought whilst his fingers trace lazy patterns up the warm, bare skin of Brittany's back whilst she snores lightly against his neck.
He can't quite believe that last night actually happened, that they actually slept together and now they're officially more than friends. It does bring slight worry to him because he doesn't quite know whatit makes them now, but he's more than sure it's not just friends with benefits. Well, at least he wants it to be more than that. He did declare his feelings last night, and then showed Brittany them when they got back here, and he hopes that he's done enough to show her he wants to work through their differences and the distance between them. He wants to make it work between them, he'll do anything to make sure it does.
He just hopes that's enough for her.
Long distance relationships are hard. They're so hard and many of them don't work out. You have to cope with the loneliness, the lack of intimacy, the emotional stress, the misunderstandings and conflicts, the financial burdens and many other things, and even though Santiago doesn't think he'll have to worry about most of them, they're definitely there to consider. But he also knows they can work. It takes effort, commitment, trust and love to succeed, as well as many other things like emotional stability, mental maturity and all that crap, but he knows they can definitely work.
And it's not like he'll have to worry about the distance forever. There might come a time where he'll want to move here (doubtful but it's a possibility) or maybe Brittany might want to move to New York. Or they might even compromise if their relationship gets that far.
Brittany shifts against his chest, her face nuzzling further into his neck and the most adorable breathy sigh coming from her lips and he chuckles to himself, gliding his palm up soft skin until his fingers can tangle in blonde hair, twisting the strands lightly.
With Brittany in his arms like this, breathing warm air against his skin, he knows he wants it to. He definitely wants it to get to that level where they buy a place together, or move to be together, because even if they've only slept together once, only just admitted their feelings and only just got somewhere that they can officially say is past the 'just friends' boundaries, he can see a future with Brittany. It's optimistic and bright and as he glances down at her face, seeing that soft, content smile she's doing in her sleep, he can definitely confirm that.
But he can't tell her that yet; it's early days.
So for now he'll just take this as it comes, and that's more than enough for him.
As long as he has Brittany, that's okay.
//
Later, he's standing in the kitchen wearing only a pair of sweatpants, cooking some eggs on the stove when soft footsteps make their way down the hallway.
He smiles to himself but continues cooking, only turning when the footsteps gets close enough that he knows Brittany's now in the kitchen, or at least in the doorway. Instantly he's greeted with the sight of Brittany, wearing his shirt from last night, standing in the archway of the kitchen, her left hand toying with the right sleeve of the shirt nervously. Her bottom lip is between two sets of straight white teeth, nibbling anxiously and her blue eyes are flicking between Santiago and basically anywhere else.
His stomach flutters and he grins, his eyes appreciating the lack of length in the shirt as it barely covers the tops of her thighs and he begins thinking how much he likes Brittany wearing his clothes. First his Lakers jersey and now his shirt... Damn. He might as well just give her his closet. He'd totally be okay with that.
After those thoughts have finally processed, he realizes that Brittany's still standing in the doorway, he's still holding the pan full of eggs and they're both just staring at each other wordlessly.
Clearing his throat, he decides to change that. "Morning," he chirps, beginning his movement toward the kitchen island where two empty plates sit. "How are you?"
Brittany stays where she is, still fiddling with the sleeve of her (borrowed) shirt. "I'm fine, thank you," she whispers, almost sheepishly, her eyes still darting around. "How're you?"
"I'm good. Really good, actually," he admits, meeting blue eyes and grinning as he shoves some eggs onto a plate. "I made us breakfast."
"You can cook?"
There's a playful edge in her tone and Santiago chuckles, nodding.
"Yeah... I don't cook a lot though, so consider this special treatment."
Brittany lifts an eyebrow in his direction but walks over to the stools, pausing to hover behind them. "Do you not like cooking or...?"
"Don't have anyone to cook for," he shrugs, pushing the last of the eggs onto the other plate. "Please, sit." He nods to one of the stools. "Unless you like to stand whilst eating," he jokes, turning around to slide the empty pan onto the counter top.
Brittany giggles but slide onto one of the stools, letting her feet rest on the edge to reveal her long, smooth legs. Memories of last night flash through Santiago's mind, the skin of his waist tingling with the memory of those wrapped around him shooting through his mind. Before he can blush at those thoughts, or before he can get hard at them again, he coughs and flicks his gaze to Brittany who's staring at him, an inscrutable expression on her face.
Looking around, he grows a tad confused as he slides onto the stool opposite Brittany, but shifts around the side to let his leg hang in her view. "What?"
Brittany's eyes stares at him for another long second before she's shaking her head, laughing softly and picking up the fork by the plate full of eggs to start eating. "Nothing."
"Are you sure?" He asks, suddenly feeling a tad self-conscious.
Blue eyes flick to him. "Yeah," she confirms, bringing a forkful of eggs to her mouth and clamping down on the cutlery. She hums as she chews, making one of the most adorable faces he's ever seen and he finds himself staring now, unable to tear his gaze away. "'Ese are 'fo 'ood," she mumbles out, cupping her mouth when she splutters a little egg. Her eyes flick away embarrassed. "'Orry."
He chuckles and shakes his own head, picking up a fork and piles a load of eggs onto it, shoveling it into his mouth and moaning at the taste. Not to be up himself, but he knows how to cook eggs, if nothing else. A comfortable silence falls between them as they eat, stealing glances at each other every now and then. At one particular mouthful, Brittany chews thoughtfully, staring at him and he can see the question forming in the cogs of her mind as he looks at her.
Finally, she asks it. "Why don't you have anyone to cook for?"
It's not what he was expecting, but he still answers. "I live on my own," he explains.
"That's not what I meant," she says and he looks at her. "I meant like... Do you not cook a lot for, um, the girls you have around?"
He narrows his eyes at her question but slowly catches on. "You're talking about like, girls I've slept with, right?" She nods and he exhales, dropping his fork to his plate carefully and sitting up a little more. "No, Britt. I don't. Truth is I haven't really had a lot of one night flings and with my schedule it takes quite hard work to have a girlfriend, and up until now I've never had a reason to work that hard for a girl."
Brittany's eyebrows raise, her blue eyes clear and understanding. "Up until now?"
He smiles and wets his lips. "Well, yeah," he lifts a shoulder and reaches across the counter to her hand resting on top, sliding his finger between hers. "I've never met a girl I really like."
All of a sudden, Brittany goes all bashful, ducking her chin to her chest and twisting her upper torso as her thumb brushes over his. He chuckles and slides off his stool, rounding the counter and urging her around until he can part her thighs and step between them. She's sitting down so she's considerably shorter, but he just tilts her head back, strokes the back of his free hand over her cheek until blue eyes flick up and his heart expands within him. She's just so beautiful.
But then something flashes across her eyes and she's chewing on her lip as her gaze flickers over his face, tracing down his lips, over his neck and down to his bare chest. He frowns.
"What?"
Brittany shrugs and releases his hand to stroke her hands over his abdomen. "I just... I can't believe this actually happened."
A shock of panic strikes him but he forces himself to stay cool. She might not mean that she regrets it by saying that. It could be a good disbelief.
"What do you mean?"
"Just like... Back in high school, I..." She trails off through a breath and he narrows his eyes, brows pushing together.
"Back in high school..." He urges on, still stroking over her face. "You can tell me, Britt."
She takes in a deep breath, and he ignores that he's in the right position to peer down her shirt and at her bare chest, because he wants to know.
"I liked you, San," she admits, voice wavering a little as she looks up at him, but removes it just as quick. "Back in high school... I liked you."
"I liked you, too, Britt. We werebest friends, after all," he laughs but her face stays blank. Okay, maybe he's got the wrong end of the stick.
"No, San, I mean—" Blue eyes flick up and Brittany keeps the contact, clearly struggling with what she's saying. "I liked, liked you," she continues and then it hits him.
Shit. She like, liked, liked him back then. Not as in friends but in as in more. But how is that possible? He doesn't remember a time where she looked at him with the same want he possessed, but wasn't aware of, back then. He doesn't remember a time where he caught her looking at him and thought it was weird but in a good way. He never even knew she'd consideredbeing more with him, even if she'd immediately shrugged it off and thrown that possibility away.
How could she though? He wasn't good looking, he wasn't athletic and thin. He was nothing like all her boyfriends were back then.
"What?" He stutters, confusion thickening with him. "I mean... Ho—How?"
Brittany rolls her eyes but smiles as she drops her gaze to her hands, now making a path down to play with the ties of his sweatpants. "Don't make me say it again," she mumbles but he just stares at her, genuinely confused. "And I had loads of reasons to like you. I mean... You were everything I wanted in a boyfriend back then, and still are, just... You look a little different but that doesn't matter to me."
He sucks in his lower lip and urges her gaze back to his. "You liked me in high school? When I was fat?"
"You weren't fat," she defends immediately. "You were a little bigger but you were still the most handsome guy in school. I honestly didn't know why none of the girls were chasing after you."
Affection warms his chest, curling around his heart and he sighs, head tilting to the side as his eyes flicker between blue. "Why didn't you say something?"
"You were my best friend," she explains. "And you had a thing for Quinn," she shrugs and pouts a little as sadness seeps into her tone. "I didn't have a chance."
Jaw slacking, he gapes down at her. "Youdidn't have a chance!?" He half-screeches. "How can you say that, Britt?"
Brittany seems so small as she keeps her head down, her fingers wrapping around the ties of his sweatpants. All Santiago wants to do is wrap her up into a tight embrace.
"Quinn was the head cheerleader, San. I was the second in command and all the guys wanted her and not me. Anyone who couldn't get her just went for me because they thought I was easy."
Anger pulses through his veins and he clenches his jaw, dropping a hand to her jaw and tilting her whole face up. "That's bullshit, Britt."
"What, so you didn't have a thing for Quinn?"
His face drops. Shit. "Okay, yeah, I did... But had I known you had feelings for me it would've been different."
"But you didn't have feelings for me and you couldn't force them on yourself."
"Britt, that wasn't what I meant," he sighs and shakes his head. "I meant that I had thought about you like that... I had thought about liking you but knowing you were going after Sam, Mike and Puck, I knew I didn't have a chance with you," he explains, stroking up the side of her neck to lay his hand over the hinge of her jaw. "I thought about it but we were best friends and I wanted to have that more than I wanted to be with you because I didn't have that chance." A beat of silence between them. "Do you get what I'm saying?"
Brittany narrows her eyes, staring up at him, not quite understanding. "So you did just wanna be friends with me... That's what you're saying?"
"No, Britt," his head moves from left to right as his eyes flutter, tongue poking out to wet his lips.
He knows what he's trying to say, but he knows by the way Brittany's staring at him that it's not coming out right. See, this is hard. This is really hard because he can't deny he had feelings for Quinn because he did, but he did also have feelings for Brittany at the beginning. The only reason they didn't stay was because he knew that he would never everhave a chance with her. Or thought he didn't anyway.
He's not going to lie either, and say that he had feelings for her all along because he didn't. Maybe somewhere within him there was that lingering tingle, or that leftover remnant of his crush on her that sparked all these years later, but he wants to tell her that he did think about it. That isn't a lie; that's true. For three weeks when they first met he couldn't stop thinking about how amazingly strange that girl was.
But he doesn't know how to put that into words without making it sound bad. Still, he tries his best. "I'm saying that I didn't think I'd have a chance with you at all, so when I first met you, I decided to become your friend because I couldn't be anything else."
She stares at him for a long moment, but then her face relaxes, eyes softening and the corners of her lips curve upward. Her hands begin toying with the ties on his sweatpants again and he chuckles as his other hand comes up to cup the other side of her face, adding a little pressure until Brittany's looking up at him, meeting his eyes and smiling at him with such affection that he almost purrs like a damn cat when she leans into his touch.
Then he starts thinking about them, and the question that's been on the very forefront of his mind since he woke up this morning proves too much to keep in anymore.
"So..." He starts, stroking his thumb over the soft skin of her cheek. "Now that we both know how we feel about each other, and... Stuff happened..." Brittany giggles, grin widening when he shoots her a wink. "What does this mean... For us?"
Brittany wraps her hand around the ones on her face, pulling them into her lap where she plays with his fingers. "Well... I hope it means good things," she replies, her voice small but light and happy. "I mean," she lifts a shoulder and meets his eye. "I know I wanna do that again."
Santiago smirks, in spite of his fluttering stomach, and chews on his bottom lip coyly. Even though he was pretty sure this was how the conversation between them was going to go, hearing it is like, a million times better. It makes him feel excited, happy and nervous but mostly just the first two. Brittany actually wants him back. They're actually going to give it a go.
Holy fuck, that feels good.
"So," he draws out the word through a growing smile. "Does that mean you'll want breakfast again, too?"
"Mmhmm," Brittany hums in approval, rubbing her thumbs across the back of Santiago's hand. "I'll be expecting those eggs every morning from now on," she continues, shooting him a wink.
His stomach tightens, but he's so focused on the flurry of images of him and Brittany in the future, waking up to each other in bed, kissing each other good morning, eating breakfast together and then maybe sneaking in a quick make out session before they head off to work, that he doesn't really feel anything but complete elation.
"Okay," he beams, grinning so wide.
Brittany bounces a little, staring at him and takes in a deep breath as she says, "Okay," in reply.
There's still some uncertainty, though. There's still that little pulling feeling in the center of his stomach that doesn't quite know what this is between them. That doesn't quite know what this officially makes them, or what it means for them now. They like each other, they know that, and both of them want to give 'them' a go, but there's still some problems like the fact that Santiago's flying back to New York in a few hours, or that his work schedule is so packed he rarely ever gets a break.
But he doesn't want to think about these things. They've only just got together and to be honest, he just wants to enjoy having Brittany. He wants to enjoy being with her, touching her, kissing her. He just wants to enjoy the closeness of having Brittany as his girlfriend and if he starts thinking about the outstanding problems, then it'll just screw up his head.
So instead, he squeezes her hands, rubs his thumbs across her knuckles and says, "So..."
Brittany just grins up at him, her eyes sparkling and smile bright, and he knows she's about to say something that's going to make him kiss her. Yet he holds back, because as much as he wants to kiss her, he wants to hear what she has to say.
"So..." she straightens up, clears her throat and wets her lips. "You should probably clear some space in your closet for me in a couple of months."
A short chortle of disbelief bursts from his lips, and he blinks at her. "Really? Why's that?"
Brittany chews on her bottom lip, slowly pushing off the stool and onto her feet until she can wrap her arms around his neck, her fingers toying with the hairs at the back of his neck. She inches forward, their noses squashing together, foreheads touching too, and breathes in, eyes fluttering shut, and he just snakes his arms around her waist and watches her, in all her perfection until those bright blue orbs are staring into his dark ones once more.
"Well, you probably won't want me taking all your clothes," she explains and his heart jumps damn near out his chest, knowing exactly what she's suggesting. "Although I do think I'd look pretty good in your Giants jersey," she adds as an afterthought, eyes drifting off briefly but flicking back to him, a little darker now. "Don't you?"
His hand presses to the small of her back as he lowers his mouth to hers, murmuring, "Fuck yeah, you would," onto her lips before he closes the gap between them and kisses her.
"No," Brittany cuts him off, throwing her hand out sharply as the other fiddles with the jeans she's sliding on. "This was... This was stupid," she shakes her head and takes in a deep, quivering breath, hopping lightly into the air and doing up the button. "We shouldn't—I shouldn't..."
Santiago jolts from the bed, scrambles towards the blonde with nothing but his jeans on and grabs her by the arm, but she doesn't look up. "Britt, what? No it was—"
Brittany whips her head up, rips her hand free from his grasp and stares into his eyes with deep, questioning blue. "It was what, Tiago?" She asks, and he can tell there's more than meets the eye.
See, the moment his mom shut the door, it was like someone hit them in the face with a wet fish. Reality came crashing down upon them and they both stared at each other, not knowing what to do. Obviously the moment had been ruined, but Santiago wanted it. He realized the moment they kissed that actually, he'd wanted it all along, and he tried to soothe her, he tried to say something to make the situation better, but nothing was coming from his mouth. No words seemed to come to mind despite him desperately wishing they would.
And that silence had led to Brittany freaking out.
She'd pushed his hands away, jumped off his lap instantly like she'd just touched an open flame and began gathering her clothes. He was so shocked and frozen that his mother had walked in, or that they were actually heading that way, that he couldn't move, just sat on the edge of the bed, staring at nothing. He couldn't believe that he'd crossed that line, that they were going to have sex. He couldn't believe any of it, but the one thing that he was focusing on most?He couldn't believe that he'd been so ignorant towards his feelings for her.
But all of his silence was misconstrued. It must have been taken as something else because the moment he'd come back to focus, he realized that Brittany was already half-dressed and half heading out the door.
Which is why they're here now, staring into each others eyes, and he's begging himself to say something. To say anything that might help this situation. But how can you tell someone how you feel when you've obviously been denying it for so long? Especially your best friend. How can you tell them that actually, you don't want the old head cheerleader, you don't want your old high school dream to come true because it was what it was: a high school dream. He's grown up, he's changed, he wants different things and it's been a long time coming that he finally realizes whathe wants.
Because it's Brittany, and he's pretty sure it always has been.
Except now he's here, and Brittany's asking him what just happened, how he feels, what he felt and whether he regrets it all in one question. Andfuck, he wants to tell her. He wants to blurt out some speech about how much he wants it; not just the sex, but all of it. Her, her heart, her body, her soul; he wants it all.
The words just don't seem to be coming out, though, and he finds her talking before he even can.
"It was a mistake," she finishes abruptly and in a voice he's never heard. It's hard, it has an edge to it that's very un-Brittany and his head jerks back at it. "It was just... A stupid mistake."
She breaks the words up with dramatic pauses, and his jaw clenches. He can see the finality in her eyes, hear it in her words and takes a step back, lifting his chin as she adjusts the jersey on her torso and walks out the door without even looking back.
//
And Santiago just watches her leave.
He hears his mom call out her name.
He hears her respond "I've just gotta go" and then the door slams shut.
He hears his mom open the door and shout after her.
But then he just hears silence.
//
A little while later, soft footsteps make their way up the stairs and only moments later, his mom's standing in the doorway. He's still sitting on the edge of the bed, his hand hung between his legs, hands dangling off his knees too and body still dressed in just unbuttoned jeans.
"Tiago?" His mom whispers softly but he keeps his head down, breathing steadily. "Tiago, I just wanted to—"
"Don't, Ma," he cuts in. "Just don't."
Despite his words, his mom walks further into the room, gingerly takes a seat next to him on the bed and strokes over his back comfortingly. He lets his eyes fall slut, and brings his palms up to bury his face into them as he lets out a loud groan.
"I didn't realize you and Brittany were—"
"We're not. We're not... Anything, mom. We just..." He takes in a deep breath and finally looks to his left at his mom.
She's sitting there, face gentle and apologetic, and ready to listen to whatever he has to say but he can't. He just can't talk to her about this. This is relationships, and sex, and guys don't talk to their moms about that kind of stuff. Girls do, but guys don't. And even if guys ever do have a brief conversation with a parent, it's with their dads when they're fourteen and they're getting the 'condom' and 'be gentle' talk. It's not a conversation about your mom walking in on you and your best friend treading over that line and heading down the sex path, leaving the friendship one behind. That's just how it is.
He sighs and shakes his head. "Just leave it, mom. Seriously," he shrugs off her hand and he can feel how dejected she is. "You wouldn't understand."
His mom lets out a long sigh, but stands from the bed, gently patting him on the head until he looks up. Their eyes meet and he gulps as he looks at her. He knows she hasn't done anything wrong and yet he's being shitty to her. He doesn't mean to be.
"I understand that you and Brittany are friends, but, honey," her face edges with something unrecognizable and Santiago tilts his head. "That girl wants you," his eyebrows shoot up. "And has done for a while. You two were a long time coming and I'm just sorry I ruined it tonight by walking in on you two—"
Blood rushes to his cheeks at the mention of what happened earlier but he coughs, cuts her off and waves a hand out in front of him. "Yeah, mom. You don't have to bring that up," he says, trying to hide his embarrassment but then her words settle in and he snaps his head up, back straightening like a pole. "Wait, what?"
His mom blinks down at him, hands coming together in front of her stomach. "What?"
"Brittany," he breathes out, ignoring the way his stomach flips at her name. "What do you mean about us being a long time coming?"
A low, throaty chuckle comes from the woman but she doesn't answer, just walks backwards toward the door with a 'you should know' expression on her face.
Except Santiago doesn't.
//
The second his phone buzzes, he almost falls over and hits his head trying to reach it from across the room. He doesn't even look at the caller ID as he picks up, just brings the phone to his ear and pants out a breathy greeting. "Shit, I'm so glad you called."
"Missing me already, are we?"
Santiago's head jerks back at the seductive voice and pulls his phone away, taking in the caller ID: Quinn Fabray. Fuck. "Oh, Quinn, sorry, I thought... Just thought you were someone else."
Quinn chuckles down the line. "Not cheating on me are you?"She jokes but he just gulps guiltily.
"Ha, no, not yet," he forces out, rubbing the back of his neck as he walks toward the window and leans against the wall beside it, looking out onto the dark street. "So what's up? You okay?"
"Yeah, I just wondered if you wanted to go to the reunion tomorrow. You know... Together."
He pauses. "Uh, what?"
"Tomorrow, you know the reunion? I was wondering if you wanted to go together."
Once again, he pauses. He doesn't know what to say. He doesn't know what's going on in his life and to be honest, that damn reunion is now the last thing on his mind. He's got Brittany, Quinn and how much he's fucked up to process and think about, and he really doesn't know what's going on between him and Brittany now, which means he can't say yes to Quinn and go without either feeling guilty or without hurting Brittany. If it would even hurt Brittany; would she even care?
Fuck. This is why friendship is somuch easier.
"Quinn... I'm going to be honest here, okay?" He says and something pangs inside his chest. "I'm not entirely sure if I can... Go with you," he tries to explain. "I'm not sure."
Quinn doesn't respond for a few moments, and he just waits, listens nervously to the sound of her breathing.
"Why not?" She finally lands on, and shit, he wishes she hadn't asked that.
"I... I'm just not really sure what's going on at the moment," he replies, shaking his head at himself. "I'm just not sure," he shrugs because it's the only thing he can come up with. "I'll meet you there, though?" He offers, trying not to sound like a complete dick that dates the girl of his high school dreams and then fucks her over when she asks him out. That's really fucking smooth. "We can have a drink together or something?"
He hears the hesitation, he hears Quinn's disappointment before she even voices it and for some reason that he can't explain, the next few words just spill from his mouth.
"Screw it, let's go together."
"Yeah? Are you sure?"
Quinn sounds a hell of a lot happier than a moment ago, but she also sounds like she was expecting that. And now, Santiago's already regretting saying that. Guilt is already pounding at his chest and all he can see in his mind is bright blue eyes and sun kissed hair. Shit!
"Yeah, Q. That's be great. I'll pick you up from yours at like, 6:30?"
"That's perfect. I'll see you tomorrow, Lopez,"she purrs, but he feels nothing.
"Mmmhmm, I'll see you tomorrow."
The line goes dead and Santiago slaps his palm against his forehead.
Why did he just agree to that?
//
He doesn't get any sleep that night, just stares at his phone and waits, hoping that Brittany might respond to one of his four texts.
The clock above his bed ticks with every second that passes, and he counts them as he stares at his phone, wishing that it would buzz, but it never does.
And on the 14,422nd second, sleep comes over him and pulls him under.
//
The first thought he has when he wakes is how much he's now dreading the reunion.
He groans at the sunlight filtering in from the window, and he curses at himself for not having the foresight to shut the blinds last night. Rolling out of bed, he pads towards it and shuts them, growling to himself beneath his breath as he trips his way back to the bed, face-planting onto it.
There's pretty much nothing inside of him that wants to go now. It's only been two days and he's already wanting to head back to New York and just forget about all this shit. If he'd never come, he wouldn't have gone on a date with Quinn Fabray, kissed her, then the very next day gone third base with his best friend, almost slept with her and then screwed over all of them, including himself.
He would've never done any of it and now he's wishing he'd never opened that damn invitation.
He rolls over onto his back and stares at the ceiling, tucking one hand beneath his head whilst the fingers of the other drums along his toned stomach. Would it be better if he just packed up and left for New York today? Would Brittany get more pissed at him, and would Quinn be upset, too? He knows that it probably isn't the wisest idea, to just leave his problems behind and run away, it's not the right thing to do, but it would be a hell of a lot easier than having to deal with Brittany and Quinn, but in whichever way he looks at it, he's not going to win.
If he chooses to take Quinn to the reunion like he said, Brittany will find out somehow and that'll hurt her, and that's the last thing Santiago wants to do.
On the other hand though, if he doesn't take Quinn, not only does he screw her over, but he doesn't give his eighteen year old self what he deserves. Quinn Fabray was his high school dream, and he might not want it now, but he owes it to himself.
But that still leads back to Brittany. Every idea he seems to have ends up with Brittany hating him, or their friendship never being the same.
He doesn't want it to be the same though. He could take Brittany, and sure, screw Quinn over, but would that matter if he got Brittany out of all of this?
Fuck, he doesn't know.
But... He could find out.
With that thought in mind, he reaches for his phone and dials her number.
//
The line seems to ring a million times before there's a click and then the sound of breathing. Santiago stills, sucking his lip into his mouth and chewing on it nervously, wanting to say something to make this situation better, but he doesn't know what would do that.
Instead, he settles for a hushed, "Hey."
Brittany hesitates down the other end, and he scrunches his face up, hating this. It's a long twenty seconds before she replies.
"Hey, San."
Hearing the smile in her words makes his heart skips and a smile of his own crosses his lips. He slumps back down onto the bed, pressing his free hand to his forehead and stares at the ceiling.
"Are... Are you okay?" He asks, immediately cursing himself for asking that. What a stupid fucking question.
"I'm... I'm fine," she breathes. "Just a little tired."
The thought whether she couldn't sleep runs through his head, making the smile grow wider seeing as he did the same thing, but then he panics. What if she couldn't go to sleep for other reasons? Not because she was thinking about him, but because she was regretting what happened? Fuck.
"Me too," he settles on, dropping his hand to the tie on his sleep shorts. "You're still going tonight, right?"
"Yeah, I am." He can hear the nod in her words, some other type of shuffling, too. "Are you?"
"Yeah, yeah," he bobs his head to himself and sits up, running a hand through his scruffy hair. He's not sure whether he should tell Brittany about taking Quinn, whether she would care. He's not sure if it'd be better to just turn up, let Brittany see them together and get it over and done with in that way. But then again, if she does care—he thinks she does, but he's not sure—wouldn't that hurt her more? Damn it. When did things get so damn complicated?
"But, um... I'm—I'm actually... Quinn rang me last night..." He hears the hitch in her breath and squeezes his eyes shut. "She... ugh, asked me if we could... Go together. Like, a date..." Actually, he doesn't know if it is a date, so he corrects himself, "I think."
Brittany's quiet for a long while and he balls his fist, pressing it against his mouth as he waits for her response, but it doesn't come quick enough and he finds himself talking before he can stop the words flowing from his mouth.
"I just... I don't know if that's okay. I mean—I've said yeah, but... I want to make sure you're okay with that." He shakes his head and squeezes his eyes shut. "'Cause if you're not then I can just tell Quinn—"
"It's fine," Brittany cuts in and he jerks his head back, hand dropping from his face. "It's fine. I don't mind." He swallows, disappointment surging through him. "I'm gonna—Sam and I are going together, anyway."
Piping hot jealousy pours through him, slicing through his chest and he's never known a feeling this strong. His jaw clenches, teeth clamping down hard and his nostrils flare as he stares at his reflection in the mirror across from him. But then it strikes him he doesn't know the context in which they're going. It could be friendly, and they live together so he can't make assumptions or play the jealousy card just yet.
"Oh, right. Like, friends going together?"
"Erm... No, actually," she responds and that feeling starts again, pulsing through him. "He asked me out like... A few weeks back and I said no but," he hears her lick her lips. "He asked me again when I got home yesterday..." she trails off and Santiago gets it.
"Yeah," he says curtly. "Sure. You're going with Sam as a date. I get it."
He knows how short and blunt he's being but he's pissed off. How can Brittany do that? Go with fucking Sam fucking Evans, her roommate and the guy Brittany said not even 24 fucking hours ago that she wasn'tinterested in. How can she go from that, to kissing him and then going to the fucking reunion with some other guy as her date?
"Well you're going with Quinn, so I don't see the difference," she fires back and he tenses, realization smacking him in the face. He immediately stands from the bed, fists curling against his shorts and keeps his voice low as he speaks.
"Is that why you're doing it?" He growls. "To spite me?"
"No," Brittany defends. "I didn't even know you were going with Quinn until a minute ago."
Santiago narrows his eyes. "So why are you going with him then?"
"Why are you going with Quinn?"
Heat bubbles inside of him as she fires back his question. Can he never just get a fucking straight answer? "Because she asked me."
"And Sam asked me."
They're both breathing hard by the time they're stopped shooting answers at each other and Santiago slams his fist against the wall, pressing his forehead against the space only seconds after. This is such bullshit. How can Brittany be going with Sam? After last night, after... Well, what happened between them.
"Fine. I guess I'll see you there," he grunts out. "Bye."
"Yeah, whatever. Bye."
The line goes dead and Santiago throws his phone across the room.
Fuck this reunion.
//
He's not even the slightest bit nervous as he walks up to the old Fabray household where Quinn's staying.
Apparently Judy and Russel split up a few years back, and both of them moved elsewhere, but they couldn't possibly give up the house where they raised their child and so they kept it. God only knows they could afford to, and he guesses it came in handy seeing as Quinn didn't have to stay at one of the cheap ass motels that are scattered around Lima.
Anyway, he walks up to the front door and raps on it three times, standing back and tucking his hands into his pants. He's not too dressed up for the reunion, just smart casual in a pair of beige chinos, a white shirt and a dark jacket over the top. Truth be told, he couldn't really be bothered to dress up, hell,he almost called Quinn, told her he wouldn't be coming and hopped on a flight home, but he chose not to. That would be a pathetic way out and he's not a pussy. He knows facing Brittany would be the braver thing and so goddamnit he's going to.
Quinn skips out the door with a smile on her face, dressed in an above the knee burgundy dress, decorated with black lace shaped into patterns. Santiago would be blind to think that she doesn't look hot, but he's sort of not really focusing on that at the moment;there are other, more important things occupying his brain.
"Hey, Lopez," she greets, smiling up at him. "Looking good."
Santiago offers a light tipped smile back and kisses her on the cheek. He's just trying to be polite and gentlemanly to make up for the lack of interest he now has in her. "You look good too, Quinn. Shall we go?"
She nods and takes his arm as he offers it out. They walk to the car and he plays the gentleman, opening the door and helping her into the seat, but he can't stop thinking about how he would rather be doing this with another blonde.
He has a feeling he's going to be doing those comparisons all night.
//
They get to McKinley High and there are a few teenagers wearing fluorescent jackets, waving the cars that come in to the specific parking spaces. This just screams Rachel Berry, being all organized and shit and he resists the urge to roll his eyes as he sees a car at the closest spot to the school with a gold star on the number plate.
They park up, Santiago slides out the car and helps Quinn out too, and they walk up to the school without any contact. He doesn't want people to get the wrong impression, to think that they're either together or that they're just hooking up for the weekend, and so he sticks his hands in his pockets and squares his shoulders as they enter the school and follow the signs to the gymnasium.
(Not that he gets why there are signs. Everyone at this reunion used to come here and he's pretty sure the layout won't have changed but whatever. That's Berry for you.)
There's a table next to the gymnasium doors with a small queue of people in front of it, and behind the table stands one Rachel Berry. Santiago expects that same annoying little dwarf that he knew back in high school, but he's shocked to see a much more grown up version of her. Her hair's longer, smile brighter and honestly, she's pretty damn hot now, but he'd never admit that out loud.
Next to him, Quinn leans over as they join the queue and whispers in his ear, "Well look at Berry. All grown up," but all he can do is nod, agreeing with her statement whilst tapping his foot nervously on the ground and peering around him, down the halls and in through the small, wired windows on the gymnasium doors to see if he can spot Brittany.
But no luck, and they slowly move up the line until they're faced with Rachel Berry, grinning up at them with bright eyes.
"Quinn! Santiago! You came!"
Santiago presses his lips together and bobs his head. "Seems like it," he says and watches Rachel's eyes drift over him, her eyebrows moving up little by little the more of him she takes in. He smirks to himself and looks down, knowing full well that he's being checked out right now.
He wonders how many people are going to do that tonight.
"You look..." Rachel's eyes flicker up to meet his. "You look good," she says, clearing her throat and looking back down at the table, obviously trying to hide the blush that's pretty obvious in this light. "So are you two together?" She asks as she begins sorting through the name badges to find theirs.
"No," Santiago quickly cuts in and feels hazel eyes slide to him. "Not together. Just friends." He coughs. "Coming to the reunion. Together."
Quinn's arm slides through is and she throws him a look before turning back to Rachel slowly. "We did go out on a date though," she chirps and Rachel's head snaps up, looking between them.
"You did?"
Quinn nods and leans her head on his shoulder. "We did, and even though he doesn't think it, this is our second date."
It pisses him off because this isn't a date. They're just friends and he wants to correct her, hell, he's about to, but then, because the world's out to get him, two pairs of footsteps pad up the hallway behind them and one is too distinct for him notto know whose they are. He stiffens, breath hitching in his throat and slowly takes the sticker Rachel holds out to him as she glances between them, like she's trying to figure something out but he doesn't pay much attention.
Not when he can feel Brittany walking up behind him, not when he can smell the sweet tang of her perfume, not when he can feel the footsteps slowing down and certainly not when fucking Samcoughs behind them and mutters a low, "Hey, guys."
Because then, he's too damn angry and fucking jealous that Brittany's here with another guy to focus on why Rachel's looking between him and Quinn like she's missing something, or how this most certainly isn'ta date.
He doesn't want to seem too eager though. He doesn't want to show how he's feeling because then Brittany wins. He doesn't want to let Brittany affect him like this if she's going to turn up with another guy because fuck,why should he? Brittany's the one that skipped out on him last night. Brittany's the one that wasn't willing to give up bringing Sam as a date like he was with Quinn. Brittany's the one that started this little game and he'll be fucked if he's going to let her win.
So he takes his time. He pats his sticker badge onto the right side of his chest and signs the book Rachel's laid out on the table. He smiles at her, asks how she is and pointedly ignores Sam's greeting to him, Brittany's too, and finishes readjusting his jacket before he turns around and looks at them.
But by then, Quinn's staring at him like she doesn't have a clue what's going on, Sam looks like he's not sure whether to keep talking or to shut up and Brittany's just glaring at him with an incredulous expression.
So what does he do? He smirks, grabs Quinn's hand and squeezes it gently.
"Come on, Q. We don't want to hold up the line," he says and tugs Quinn toward the gymnasium door, holds it open for her and flashes a forced grin at the blonde couple before he whispers, "We'll see you inside," and disappears amongst the throng of people, heading straight for the free bar.
At least there's one good thing here tonight.
//
About twenty minutes into the reunion, he's standing by the bar on his own—Quinn's popped off to the 'ladies' room'—and Sam comes over.
He hears the blonde guy order two drinks, one beer and a cranberry and vodka and shakes his head when Sam says yes to ice for the mixer. Brittany hates ice in her drink and it gives him this weird wave of satisfaction that crashes through him when he thinks that he knows that, and Sam doesn't.
And just because he's been drinking a little—he's not drunk, but he's on his way—he decides it's a good idea to point it out.
"She doesn't like ice," he says, swirling his beer in the bottle as he leans on the bar top.
Sam looks to him, confused. "What?"
"Brittany," Santiago elaborates, almost rolling his eyes as Sam's lack of intelligence. "She doesn't like ice in her drinks."
"And why's that?"
"Shouldn't you know?" He says, running his tongue along his teeth and slowly twisting his head to meet Sam's eyes. "You are living together, after all."
Sam wets his lips and straightens up, resting his hand on the bar. "Okay, what's the deal with you two?" He asks outright, and Santiago stills. "There's something going on and I need to know what it is." He chooses to stay quiet. "I'm blonde but I'm not stupid, so spill."
He stares at the liquid moving around in bottle for a whole thirty seconds before he takes a pull and then turns to Sam, now facing him. "We're just friends," he answers because it's true. That's what they are, even if they're currently going through a rough patch. "And you're here on a date with her, so why you so worried?"
Something softens in Sam's eyes as he takes in the words and looks over Santiago for a long moment, but then he steps forward and lowers his head a little, meeting dark brown eyes.
"Look, man... I don't want to start any trouble," he says honestly and Santiago sort of hates that Sam's actually kind of a decent guy. "So if there's something going on between you two, I just wanna know." He pauses and Santiago can't help but wonder why he'd offer to step off, especially when it's a girl like Brittany.Whoever gives her up that easily would be a fucking fool. "I'll step off and tell her that we're just friends 'cause I don't wanna go head to head with you man. I know I'm not going to win, so you just need to say the words."
And for a moment, Santiago seriously considers saying the words. They're right there on the tip of his tongue, ready to spill, but then he thinks about it, like, reallythinks about it.
Sam's a decent guy. He's not exactly the brightest color in the box of crayons but he's nice enough that it doesn't really matter. He's handsome, Santiago has to admit, and he knows that Sam's actually pretty loving. He would never intentionally hurt Brittany and hell, even now he's proving that he's a nice guy because he's offering to back off Brittany just because there's a slight chance Santiago might be interested in her.
Not a lot of guys do that anymore, and Santiago hates to admit that actually, he probably wouldn't himself. And as he looks at Sam, he realizes Sam's actually a better choice for Brittany.
Sam's here in Lima. Sam can love and support Brittany, be there for her and they can share their lives together, and Santiago can't do that. Santiago's life is so drastically different from Brittany's; he's now a city guy, he's ESPN's top sports anchor with a studio apartment in Manhattan and he's heading home tomorrow. Sam probably even knows Brittany better than Santiago does now after spending all that time with her, too.
See, Brittany and Sam always stayed small town people, always stayed in Lima and it makes sense that they would stay together, raise a blonde haired family and buy a damn house only a few blocks from their childhood ones. It makes sense and due to movies, Santiago knows that big city people and small town people just don't fit together anywhere along the line. They can't and that's just a reality Santiago has to face.
Which is what leads him to say this:
"No. There's nothing between me and Brittany."
Sam seems convinced almost immediately and Santiago thanks his lying skills as all the anger sinks out of him, being replaced by something that feels a hell of a lot like regret. Maybe a dash of sadness is lingering in there, too.
"Yeah? You're cool with me and Britt then?"
Santiago chews on the inside of his cheek, but eventually nods. "Yeah, I'm cool with it."
A wide, toothy grin is flashed his way as the bartender slides over two drinks towards Sam who picks them up, but stays looking at Santiago as he says, "Thanks for being honest, man," and then walks away, back to Brittany.
And when Sam finally hands the drink over to Brittany—with ice—Brittany just sips on it and doesn't even wince at the cubes of ice bobbing around the liquid in the cup when they touch her lips.
Maybe Santiago doesn't really know her anymore.
//
He's been watching Brittany for a good part of an hour now, and he can't get his head around how she's acting. Last night she was kissing him, running her hands through his hair and telling him that she needed him and now she's over the other side of the room with her arms draped around Sam's neck as they dance, her face nuzzled into Sam's neck as she laughs at something he said, and she's just generally acting like nothing ever happened between them last night.
Seriously, what the fuck?
About ten minutes ago, Quinn apparently had enough of Santiago's lack of interest in, well, pretty much anything besides Brittany—not that she knows Brittany's on his mind—and squeezed his arm before telling him she was going to go and talk to Puck as the guy slid through the doorwithouthis mohawk, which of course caused a ruckus to the half the people at this damn reunion.
He's now leaning against the bar, fully taking advantage of the free bar and just glaring at pretty much anyone that interacts with Brittany because he isn't. He thought they would be cool after last night. He thought they might be able to just brush it away and push it under the rug. He thought that despite their rather short conversation on the phone this morning that in person they'd be different, but Brittany's shown absolutely no interest in talking to him and honestly, he's just that stubborn that he's not going to either if she doesn't want to.
That was the plan anyway, before Sam's hand starts sliding down Brittany's back to a dangerously low level, and well... He just sort of snaps.
He realizes far too late what he's just done and that he has absolutely no explanation as to why he did it. All he knows is that he couldn't stand watching Sam touch her and make her laugh like that and that he had to do somethingto stop it. Which apparently, just happened to be marching over to them and wrenching Sam's hand away from Brittany's lower back.
Except now he's looking between wide, quizzical eyes and he seriously doesn't know what the hell to say.
"San!" Brittany exclaims, glancing guiltily toward Sam. "What are you doing?"
"Yeah, bro, what was that?" Sam chimes in and Santiago watches the his hand move back to Brittany's waist, so he snatches out and yanks it away again, harder this time, earning a satisfying whimper from the blonde guy.
"Santiago!" Brittany yells properly this time, pushing him by the chest a little and easing herself into the gap between him and Sam. "Stop it."
He clenches his jaw and glares at Sam, but he doesn't have time to say anything or to shove Sam again because Brittany's grabbing his elbow and tugging him out the gymnasium into the hallway. He twirls around, losing his stability as the mix of alcohol and adrenaline rushes to his head but snaps a hand out to one of the lockers, leaning against it in a way he hopes to be casual.
From the way Brittany's looking at him he's not sure it worked.
Both of them are breathing heavily, it echoed by the emptiness of the hallway but Santiago doesn't want to turn around. He doesn't even want to look at Brittany right now because honestly, he's kind of scared what's going to come. He knows he shouldn't have reacted like that to Sam touching Brittany, especially after telling Sam he was fine with those two, and even though he doubts Brittany knows about that conversation, it's still enough to make him panic.
"Santiago," Brittany calls him and he barely even twists his neck, allowing her to see his profile.
"What?"
Brittany shakes her head in disappointment. "What was that?" She asks, crossing her arms.
He straightens up, turning around to lean his back against the lockers, arms crossed over his chest and foot propped up against the bottom row. "Just thought it was a bit inappropriate for him to be touching you like that at a damn high school reunion," he tries, knowing full well Brittany's going to see through his bullshit.
And she does. She drops her eyes from his, clucking her tongue against the roof of her mouth and begins laughing dryly beneath her breath. He just watches her, waiting for her to say something but she doesn't and it irritates him. It really fucking irritates him because Brittany tugged him out her. He didn't want to be here; he was perfectly fine standing in front of Sam, a little pissed off, a little drunk and without a clue as to what to say after tearing his hand away from Brittany.
He was perfectly fine... ish, and now Brittany's not going to say anything? She's just going to stand there and laugh at him? What the fuck is that?
"Britt, don't fucking—" his eyes clench shut and he forces himself to take a deep, calming breath. "Just don't fucking laugh at me. This isn'tfunny."
Brittany's head snaps up, eyes narrowing and face dropping. She steps forward intimidatingly and Santiago actually finds himself scared of the way her nostrils are flaring, of how her eyes are hard as they glare at him and how she seems to be matching his height, if not towering over him despite him being taller than her. He doesn't think he's ever seen Brittany so damn angry before, and even though the majority of his mind is focused on that, there's a little part that's actually attracted to how freaking hotangry Brittany is.
"You don't think I know that?" Brittany speaks and Santiago blinks at her. "I'm laughing because this is so notfunny. This is so far from funny it's whatever the hell the opposite of funny is and there's nothing left to do but laugh."
Dark brows scrunch together. "Nothing left to do? So what does this mean? What are you saying?"
Brittany takes in a deep breath, exhaling through her nose and sucking her lips into her mouth, worrying them for a few seconds. She stays still and quiet, tightening her jaw rhythmically and it suddenly sinks in what she's trying to say. She doesn't know what to do. She doesn't know where this leaves them and he's pretty sure that means their friendship is no longer intact. Clearly he didn't think it'd be the same, but he thought they could get through it. They always used to have little arguments and just breezed past them, but there's something more final about Brittany's response this time, something much more terrifying.
Yet still, in spite of those thoughts, he waits to hear if what he's thinking is true. After all, he doesn't want to assume and freak out for no good reason.
"I'm saying..." It's said through a long, exhaled breath and Santiago tenses, waiting the verdict. "I'm saying that I think after this weekend..." Brittany looks up with sad, blue eyes. "That maybe we should leave us for a bit. Not get in contact and forget about what happened last night."
Hurt and confusion pulses through him, hot and heavy. On one hand he's understanding perfectly what Brittany's saying, but on the other, he doesn't. What does 'leaving us' include? What does that freaking mean? Does that mean he has to never speak to her again, or just not speak for a while? Or is that Brittany's way of subtly telling him that she doesn't actually want to get in contact and forget about everything between them?
For fuck sake! Why can't he just get a straight answer for once!?
The anger gets so much that one moment he's staring at Brittany, demanding an answer, but the next, curling his fist against the dent in the metal of the locker he's just hit. He's breathing harder than before, clamping his jaw shut and feeling the skin on his face tighten around the bone as he tries not to focus on how he's feeling.
Except he realizes that's not what he really needs to know. He doesn't need to know how he's feeling because he already knows. He just needs to know how Brittany's feeling, but all his hesitations are holding him back.
Fuck.
"I don't want that," he spits out through bared teeth. "I don't want to not talk to you, Britt but—"
"Why?"
It's said a lot softer than Santiago wants it to be said, but he can't turn back time, and instead lets Brittany's tone soothe over him, pouring serenity and calm into his veins until he's able to speak once more.
"I just—We're friends, Britt... But then there's Quinn and you—" He chokes on the words, desperately searching through his muddled brain for a way to say what he means, to ask what he wants to. It's so much harder than he thought it'd be but then again, when you want something, you've got to earn it, no matter how hard the journey to that thing may be.
Taking in a deep breath, he turns to face Brittany, regulating his breathing and letting his facial muscles relax into a softer expression. "If I... If I asked you... How you felt," he gulps and wets his lips. "About me... What would you say?"
It's nerve wracking in a way he never knew it could be because he's never had to do this. Since he lost all that weight, girls just come to him and clearly show their feelings with actions, and God only knows before then he only had eyes for Quinn and it wasn't like she even showed the slightest bit interest in him back then. He's never had to tell a girl he likes them, which is stupid because he's twenty five, and how can a twenty five year old never have told anyone they like them?
Maybe he did back in like, elementary or middle school or something, but that wasn't serious. He's never had to declare seriousfeelings for someone, and doing this for the first time is so frightening. It's utterly terrifying because it's only now that he's realizing what he's putting on the line. Sure, he hasn't actually told Brittany out straight he likes her but shit, he kissed her yesterday, he's just asked her how she feels about him and if that doesn't scream 'I LIKE YOU' then he doesn't know what the hell does.
So he just waits in anticipation, clutching to the last of the nerves and patience he has even though all he wants to do is reach out, grab Brittany and shake the answer out of her.
He understands that she needs time though, but it still doesn't quell the anxiety he feels.
"I..." Brittany starts, pausing when her throat runs dry to swallow. Her eyes flick up to meet dark ones and Santiago lowers his head, showing her he's willing to listen and to understand whatever she has to say. "I don't know what I would say," she breathes out, lifting a shoulder. "I don't know how I feel."
"Yes you do," he fires back, shocked by his own speed of response and hell, shocked by how bold he's being with his response. "You do because you know how I—how I feel about you," he finishes, panting hard. "You do know."
Brittany looks away, his words too much for her. She shifts her weight from one leg to the other and slowly glances back, sucking her lips into her mouth once more. "Why are you asking me then?" She says, shrugging. "If you know that I feel the same way you feel about me then why are we playing these games? What's the point?"
There's logic in it somewhere, he knows, and as he processes the questions and words over and over, he slowly realizes what that logic is. But it pisses him off because it's like Brittany's implying that he'sthe one that started those games. Sure, he was slightly responsible for it, but he's just as responsible as she is. Two can play at that game and two fucking well did.
"You started these fucked up little games, Britt," he comments and watches her eyebrows shoot up, head jerk back. "Youran out my bedroom on and then accepted Sam's fucking date," he steps toward her, their faces closing in on each other and stares into her eyes. "So don't ask me that question like I'm the one who fucking started this."
"I ran out because youfroze up, Santiago. I wouldn't have frozen up if you'd just laughed it off or maybe carried on or whatever..." She trails off, glancing away but the tips of her ears tint pink.
"My mom walked in on us!" He points out, trying not to focus on how hot she is when mad. It's actually really kind of distracting. "I'd say that's okay if I froze up because of that."
"No, after she walked in on us, San. After. You didn't say anything and you were freaking out. Don't tell me you weren't because I know you." She takes a step back, twisting around but going back on it straight away, tucking one arm beneath her other whilst the hand on it plays with her bottom lip. "I know what you look like when you're happy, when you're sad, when you're cold, hungry, disappointed, jealous, angry, bored and now I've got horny to add to the list too—" Santiago can't help but smirk at that as Brittany steps closer, unfazed by her words. —"And San, you were freaking out so don't lie." She shakes her head, staring so deep into his eyes he's almost forced to look away. "You can't tell me you weren't."
The fact that Brittany knows so much about him, has taken time out to learn what he looks like with every mood and remember them catches him off guard. He takes a step forward, tilting her chin up with a curled finger and looks down at her softly, unable to ignore the way her heart's flipping inside her chest. He can't ignore it because it's mixed with this intense fluttering, this incredible warmth and this overwhelming urge to kiss her.
But he has to tell her. He has to explain to her the reasons behind him freezing because he did. He can't deny it and the longer he goes without explaining it, the further they'll grow apart and he doesn't want that, not now he's just got Brittany back after six years without contact. Not now he's spent this weekend with her, a weekend he'd never take back because it's made him realize things he never knew, made him learn things and made him fully acknowledge things that he never did before.
And he wouldn't take back any of those lessons, those realizations or acknowledgments for anything, not if it means he gets Brittany.
"Fine," he breathes out, his eyes darting between each of hers and finger still warm beneath her chin. "I was freaking out," he admits, nodding, seeing the way Brittany's face falls. But he won't let her break out of his grasp or his sight. He can't; he needs to explain. "I did freak out but not for the reasons you seem to think."
He can feel his big speech come on. The big speech that every romance movie or novel seems to have which gets him the girl and he's praying right now that even though it's cheesy, even though it's so cliché, he wants to say it because now he gets why the big speech is there in the first place. He gets it and he almost smiles at the thought.
"I was kissing you... I had my hands running over your body, marveling in your perfection and Britt... My mom walked in on us. She saw me in a moment that I didn't want anyone else to see." He shrugs, wets his lips. "My mom ruined a moment between me and my best friend when we were about to cross a line that I really wanted to cross, if I'm honest."
Brittany tries to duck and hide her blush, but he holds her strong, wanting to see how she reacts to his words. He needs to see it because if he's going to admit how he feels, he needs to know she feels the same way she does. It's crucial.
"Britt," he starts again, shifting so close he can feel the warmth radiating off her body. "I was about to have sex with my best friend and I don't really know how you weren't freaking out about that," he gets out through a slight laugh. "Not just because we were about to have sex, but because someone was breaking a moment that I never knew we could have."
His heart picks up its rate as he speaks, and once he sees no attempt to run away from his words, and no flinching, he sucks in a deep breath, shuffles that little bit further forward until their bodies are pressed together, Brittany's hands coming to rest upon the plane of his chest, and joins the hand he has on her face with the other, cupping her cheeks, his fingertips resting upon the hinge of her jaw.
"What happened yesterday was a big thing, Britt... And if you hadn't ran off, I would've told you that." He lifts a shoulder because it's true. He may have frozen, may not have spoken, but the words were ready to roll off the tip of his tongue. His mind and heart were ready, even if his body wasn't. "I would've told you that, along with the fact that I never knew how much I wanted that—how much I wanted us until that moment." He exhales heavily and feels his lips curve upward as Brittany's eyes soften, her fingers toying lightly with the buttons of his shirt. "Because I couldn't and don't want anything less. I don't want to nothave you, Britt... That's just—I'm not saying I can't have it like that because I can..." He shrugs one final time. "I just don't want to."
Brittany's head ducks, chin tucking to her chest but her eyes look up through her lashes. It's like all of a sudden she's gone bashful and it makes his heart flutter to think that he made her do that. His words made her do that. Maybe finally he's saying the right thing.
"You... You really mean that?" She whispers, and Santiago doesn't hesitate for a second before he's grinning and nodding.
"Yeah, Britt. I really mean that."
The fingers on his chest slowly drift upward, toying with the edge of his collar as they gaze into each others eyes. They're both smiling, reading things that neither of them can verbalize and he shifts forward, his hands slipping down from her face and settling on her hips, thumbs rubbing circles over the protrusion of her hipbones.
Brittany glances down, breaking the eye contact as she asks, "So... What does this mean?"
And Santiago just rolls his eyes playfully. He doesn't know how she doesn't know what this means because he wants her. He likes her and wants to be with her, but he's not sure how he can say that in any other way, so instead he whispers her name until she tilts her head up, and then he just kisses her.
It's soft, hesitant and slow at first, Santiago making a pleased sigh against her warm lips as they suck in his bottom one, a tongue brushing over the edge of it and he opens it his mouth. Then she can't hold back her moan as his tongue brushes over her, his hands pulling her closer and he finds himself smirking against her mouth, his hand twitching against her stomach as the need for more grows. It starts off as little tingles, gathering low in his stomach but then Brittany's hands slide up from his chest, loop around him neck and pull him impossibly closer, her eyelashes fluttering against his cheek as the kiss grows deeper, grows sloppy.
From there it doubles, triples, multiplies until he can't seem to fight the heat that overcomes him, and it seems neither can she because she nips at his lip, sucking his tongue into her mouth and moaning when his hips jerk forward.
He sucks in a sharp breath as soft hands slide up through his hair, gripping it and her tongue runs along his teeth when she pushes his tongue back into his mouth. The kiss grows hungry, almost animalistic, and Santiago can feel all the blood rushing to his groin, making him press up against the fabric of his boxers as her hands make a path down his chest, over the defined muscles of his abdomen. Two long fingers hook into his belt buckle, pulling his hips into hers and he moans against her mouth as they begin rocking together.
"San," she breathes out as they pull back for air. Her eyes are wide but so, so dark. They're slightly hooded and he can see the arousal flashing behind him and can only imagine what it's like to touch her, to feel her. That single thought shoots straight to his crotch, making him strain further against his pants and he sucks in his lips to prevent the moan from spilling out between them.
"Where?" He asks, knowing the question before it's asked. She just stares, panting heavily and looking like she can't wait another moment but both of them know this isn't an appropriate place. This is their old high school and all their old friends are just through the wall to their left, so no matter how badly they want each other, how badly they want to continue where they left off the other night, they need go somewhere else.
Fast.
"Your place," she gets out. "Your parents are at mine."
Despite the heavy, erotic atmosphere, he manages a small chuckle. "How is it you know where my parents are and I don't?"
She doesn't answer him, just winks and pulls away reluctantly, grabbing his hand as she leads him down through the hallways and out of school. They're in the parking lot before he knows it and she's dropping his hand, twirling around with the biggest grin on her face and he just follows her, his eyes unable to stray onto anything else. She really is the most magnificent thing, his most magnificent thing, and he can't quite believe that.
But it's true, and the sooner they get back to his place, the sooner he'll be able to prove that.
//
The second they get to his room, her hands are on his belt buckle, pulling it open, and her lips are pressing against his, pulling one between her teeth and nipping lightly. His hands slide down to her waist, squeezing gently and he moans as she walks them back toward his bed.
The back of his knees hit the edge, and he falls down into a seated position, watching as Brittany yanks his chinos free from his legs and throws them into the darkness of the room behind him. It's sort of weird because he's usually the one in charge. He's the one taking control, and by now he's usually picking up the girl, urging her legs around his waist and bucking into her as he flicks open the strap of her bra, his tongue sliding over hers.
But he has nothing to complain about, not when Brittany's dropping to her knees and smirking up at him. Not when she's grabbing him through his boxers, rubbing expertly as she kisses her way down his chest after pushing off his shirt, running her tongue along the grooves of his abs and then tucking her fingers into the waistband and letting him spring free against his stomach. And especially not when she's running the flat of her tongue along the underside of his shaft and then covering him, taking as much of him in as she can and beginning to bob her head.
He groans as she throws her hand into the mix, twisting her fist and pumping hard as the heat builds in the back of his spine. Her tongue flicks over the head of his cock, and he throws his head back, fisting the bed sheets beside him with one hand and grabbing the back of her head with the other, his fingers tangling into blonde hair.
It's almost embarrassing how close he is already and before he can embarrass himself publicly, he grabs her chin when she looks up at him with a smirk and splutters out something unintelligible, something along the lines of having to stop doing that because she's just too damn good at it. She just smirks and he tugs her up, pressing their lips together and wrapping his hands around the back of her knees, pulling her until she's straddling him.
He suddenly becomes incredibly aware that she's wearing far too many clothes and begins changing that, pulling her top over her head, her hair falling in loose curls around her shoulders, and unbuttoning her skirt, pulling it free from her waist until she's sitting atop him in nothing but underwear.
Their hips rock together, and he can feel how wet she is through the fabric of her underwear as his hands drift down, fingers sliding over the damp fabric. She groans into his mouth, pale arms wrapping around his neck and he honest to God can't believe they're doing this, and this time they're actually going through with it. The other thing he can't stop thinking about either is how they went for so long without knowing this connection, without knowing how well they could fit together, how well their hands know each other and how much they want this.
And people say ignorance is bliss.
His hands slide around from her hips, up the plane of her back and stop at the strap of her bra. His fingers flick it open with practiced ease and she smiles against his mouth as her hands come back around, cupping his cheeks when the rocking gets a little faster, when the friction gets a little stronger and fuck, he's completely naked and he's about two seconds away from blowing his load.
Brittany drops her hands from his face to let him tug her bra off, and he breaks the kiss, beginning to trail hot, opened mouthed ones against her jaw and down her neck. She groans, pressing down her hips intermittently because she's growing less impatient with every second, and he smirks against her skin, poking his tongue out to soothe over the pot he just sucked into his mouth.
The arousal within him tightens when he drops his hands, pushing them between them enough so his eyes can trace over her body. She's perfect, something he thought he'd only be able to imagine in his wildest dreams, and he bites down on his lip as he leans forward, taking a nipple into his mouth and flicking his tongue over the hardened nub. Her hands are suddenly in his hair again, gripping and pulling his head closer against her chest and he moans, letting his hands wander down to her lower back, slipping beneath the fabric of her underwear to grab at her ass, fingers massaging the flesh gently.
"Fucking hell, San," she gasps at one particular buck of his hips.
He releases her nipple with a pop, but only turns his head to the neglected one to give it the same treatment as she continues to moan his name, the rock of their hips getting sloppier and sloppier. He can feel her, and wants nothing more than to rip the last offending piece of fabric from her, but he knows that won't show her how he feels. It's already been too quick and he wants to make this last, even if he knows the second he's inside her, it won't last for too long.
The thought of being inside her makes him bite down on the skin of her neck, and she yanks at his hair until he jerks back, letting her nipple brush over his chin as he looks up at her. She's breathing hard and heavy, panting down at him and he wants to say something, wants to tell her how much he wants her, how beautiful she looks and how he can't wait until they make that final connection, but the words just don't form in his mouth.
So instead he grabs her thighs and stands, turning them around and crawling up the bed, dropping her so he can settle between her thighs. For a moment he pauses, unable to figure out how he got this damn lucky, but then quicker than a flash, she's pulling him down into a deep, deep kiss, her tongue sliding into his mouth and flicking against the roof of it.
Then he's unable to think about anything else but her beneath him, his cock trapped between their stomachs and how he's so fucking glad there's a box of condoms in the top drawer of his bedside table because otherwise what's going to happen wouldn't be possible.
With that thought, he breaks the kiss and sits on his knees between her legs, reaching over to pull open the drawer and grab a small square wrapper from the box inside. He smiles down at her when she grins up at him, and he can't fight the overwhelming happiness that buzzes within him at the knowledge that in a few seconds they're going to be taking the next step.
Brittany takes the condom from between his fingers, her eyes flicking down between his legs and he cocks his head, eyebrow raising as she slowly tears it open with her teeth, throwing the packet off the side of the bed. He looks down her body, eyes landing on the spot of dampness on the front of her panties and he bites his bottom lip as he stretches forward to peel her underwear away from her.
Her hips buck against his touch, and he smirks, pushing the fabric down her hips until he has to lift her leg to tug it off completely. The moment feels too hot, too intense and he can feel how hard his chest is moving as he looks between her legs, moaning lowly at the moisture he sees.
"I want you so fucking much," he rasps out roughly.
When he looks up, he meets blue eyes and finds a slight blush of pink tinting Brittany's cheeks, and he can't believe she's embarrassed. She's the definition of perfection and he knows he's staring but he can't not. She's just sobeautiful. She's beautiful in every single way and he can't believe he's never seen all her beauty before, not just outside but inside, too. Maybe he was too caught up with Quinn. Maybe he was so focused on her that he never knew what was in front of him the same time.
But now he does know what's in front of him. He knows and he can't believe that Brittany wants him back.
His hands stroke up the soft skin of her thighs, and she groans when he bypasses the area she needs touching the most for her stomach. His fingers map out every inch, stroking over the skin and he gently glides over her breasts, feeling hardened nipples brush over his skin until he stops to appreciate them, kneading them gently. For her part, Brittany reaches down between them, sliding the condom skillfully down his length and he finds it way hotter than it should be, realizing just how turned on he is.
He takes a deep breath as he pulls back his hands, looking between them to see how close they are and groans when a pale hand curls around him, stroking him languidly as they both get themselves ready. It's a big step, they both know it. Hell, they've even talked about it and he gently urges her hand away until he can grab at himself, shifting forward on his knees and lowering his entire body so their chests press together and his dick is running through her wetness.
Their lips hover over each other teasingly, but suddenly it feels like the atmosphere has suddenly got a million times more serious and their eyes lock. Her thighs squeeze gently against his hips and he knows he wants this, he knows she wants it too, but this is a significant moment. This is one that they'll remember for years to come and he wants to make it as special as he can.
But then Brittany makes this weirdly hot noise, somewhere between a beg and somewhere between a moan and he knows his stamina is going to take a serious hit the second he sinks into her.
So he kisses her, trying to calm himself and lets his eyes fall shut as he lowers his hips, nudging her entrance as her hands come around his neck, deepening the kiss. Then he's pressing forward, sliding into her and they're both moaning into the kiss, but Santiago isn't aware of anything else except the way she feels around him, hot and tight. But he wants to be aware of something else, he wants to see this moment, to remember it, and he pulls his lips back so he can see her.
And the second he does, he realizes he's already falling madly in love with this girl.
Brittany's eyes are closed, her head tipped back and mouth open. There's a flush to her cheeks, her neck, and Santiago bites his lip as he pushes further into her, watching the way a little crinkle appears in her brow at him inside of her, the way her jaw falls that little more and how a breathy moan flows out of her. There's a little smile playing at her lips too and her legs squeeze his hips, bucking up slightly, and he knows exactly what he needs to do but this sight in front of him is more than distracting.
Short nails dig into the skin of his back right then, and he acknowledges how he needs more too and begins moving, letting his lips hover over hers, the tips of them barely touching as his hips roll and grind, pleasure sparking throughout them. Brittany grinds up into him and he pushes down, feeling her thighs tighten in pleasure around him with every thrust and he stares into her eyes the second they open, their hearts, souls and bodies connecting in every single way possible.
Sex isn't new to him. Fucking someone isn't new to him either, but making love? Yeah, that's pretty new. He's never done it before, probably because he's never been in love before and it's ridiculous to think that after three days he's fallen head of heels in love with someone, but when he thinks about how that someone is Brittany, suddenly he doesn't think it's so ridiculous.
Especially not when her hands are sliding up to cup his neck. Especially not when she's pulling their foreheads together and staring deeply into his eyes. Especially not when she's panting warm breath against his lips and muttering his name through a breathy moan. And especially not when she's pressing their lips together and smiling into the kiss.
It's all so intense, hot, erotic; but so romantic too that he considers that the sex might be getting to his feelings and emotions, but then he thinks about how he's always been like this with Brittany. How he's always felt this pull towards her but never really known what stimulated that pull, how he's always looked at her with this extra fondness and how he's always wanted something but never knew what that something was.
But now it's so clear. Now it's so clear he wonders how he was so damn blind before because he doesn't think he's ever going to want anything more than he wants Brittany. He never thinks he's going to want anything else besides Brittany because it's just too damn strong.
"San," Brittany groans out, her eyes fluttering shut. "Fuck me harder, please."
She doesn't really need to say it though, because he already knows. It's another thing that shocks him because he would've thought after six years of being apart his ability to read her needs would've faded, but it's nothing like that. If anything he knows it better now and he creates the tiniest of distances between their chests to get a hand between them, sliding it down between her legs and letting the pads of his fingers roll over her clit as he picks up the pace, putting more force into every thrust.
Her hips buck up with every circle he makes, and he's sure to switch them from wide and slow to small and fast, knowing exactly how to push her toward an orgasm. His own builds within him, heavy like pressure at the base of his spine and he can feel himself growing tired as he pumps into her, breathing hard into her mouth as their lips part, touching but not kissing.
The thighs around his hips squeeze impossibly tight, shaking more and more and all he can think about is how much he wants to see her face when she's pushed over the edge. So he moves a little faster, adds more pressure into every thrust and presses down in a way he knows she'll like until Brittany's gasping sharply, back arching off the bed and pushing into him, her arms flinging around his shoulders to pull him down, to pull their heads together and to meet his eyes as her orgasm punches through her.
She lets out a small cry, tightening around him and he knows how close he is, so he works harder and quicker, sliding his free hand down to her thigh to push her leg up toward her chest so he can slide deeper, prolonging her orgasm until she's practically screaming his name.
The feel of her coming aids in his too, and his entire body tenses as he lets himself go, moaning, "Fuck, Brittany," as he pours everything he has into the condom, their lips coming together in a kiss way too soft for what they're doing.
And then they're still for a long moment, both of them trying to catch their breath as they gaze into each others eyes and he begins smiling. She does too, and there's a flutter of movement between them before they're kissing again, lazy and sweet. Their lips brush over each other, curling up against one another and he feels her hands slide up from his neck to his cheeks again, cupping them gently as their kiss slowly parts.
He lifts up a little, because he realizes he's leaving all his dead weight on top of her, and pulls out, loving the way her face reacts and he realizes how many things have jumped to the top of his 'favorite things ever' list this weekend, all of which include Brittany.
Rolling to the side, he lets out a long exhale and feels exhaustion sink into his bones and muscles. His lungs are working at a slower pace now and not a second passes before Brittany curls up into him, burying her head beneath his chin and throwing an arm over his midsection, hands clutching at his waist. He grins, looking down at her, and she must sense it because she tilts her head up, smiling up at him with sleepy eyes, and he finds it both amusing and adorable.
He strokes a hand over a lock of hair that's fallen and lets his eyes flicker over her face, taking in everything and knowing by the way she's staring at him that she doesn't regret what just happened for a second. He doesn't either, he never thought he would, and he tips her chin up with finger beneath it to press one last kiss to her lips before they both settle down and sleep takes over them.
//
In the morning when the sun's rising and slowly filtering in through the blinds, they're still in bed, Santiago on his back, staring at the ceiling in deep thought whilst his fingers trace lazy patterns up the warm, bare skin of Brittany's back whilst she snores lightly against his neck.
He can't quite believe that last night actually happened, that they actually slept together and now they're officially more than friends. It does bring slight worry to him because he doesn't quite know whatit makes them now, but he's more than sure it's not just friends with benefits. Well, at least he wants it to be more than that. He did declare his feelings last night, and then showed Brittany them when they got back here, and he hopes that he's done enough to show her he wants to work through their differences and the distance between them. He wants to make it work between them, he'll do anything to make sure it does.
He just hopes that's enough for her.
Long distance relationships are hard. They're so hard and many of them don't work out. You have to cope with the loneliness, the lack of intimacy, the emotional stress, the misunderstandings and conflicts, the financial burdens and many other things, and even though Santiago doesn't think he'll have to worry about most of them, they're definitely there to consider. But he also knows they can work. It takes effort, commitment, trust and love to succeed, as well as many other things like emotional stability, mental maturity and all that crap, but he knows they can definitely work.
And it's not like he'll have to worry about the distance forever. There might come a time where he'll want to move here (doubtful but it's a possibility) or maybe Brittany might want to move to New York. Or they might even compromise if their relationship gets that far.
Brittany shifts against his chest, her face nuzzling further into his neck and the most adorable breathy sigh coming from her lips and he chuckles to himself, gliding his palm up soft skin until his fingers can tangle in blonde hair, twisting the strands lightly.
With Brittany in his arms like this, breathing warm air against his skin, he knows he wants it to. He definitely wants it to get to that level where they buy a place together, or move to be together, because even if they've only slept together once, only just admitted their feelings and only just got somewhere that they can officially say is past the 'just friends' boundaries, he can see a future with Brittany. It's optimistic and bright and as he glances down at her face, seeing that soft, content smile she's doing in her sleep, he can definitely confirm that.
But he can't tell her that yet; it's early days.
So for now he'll just take this as it comes, and that's more than enough for him.
As long as he has Brittany, that's okay.
//
Later, he's standing in the kitchen wearing only a pair of sweatpants, cooking some eggs on the stove when soft footsteps make their way down the hallway.
He smiles to himself but continues cooking, only turning when the footsteps gets close enough that he knows Brittany's now in the kitchen, or at least in the doorway. Instantly he's greeted with the sight of Brittany, wearing his shirt from last night, standing in the archway of the kitchen, her left hand toying with the right sleeve of the shirt nervously. Her bottom lip is between two sets of straight white teeth, nibbling anxiously and her blue eyes are flicking between Santiago and basically anywhere else.
His stomach flutters and he grins, his eyes appreciating the lack of length in the shirt as it barely covers the tops of her thighs and he begins thinking how much he likes Brittany wearing his clothes. First his Lakers jersey and now his shirt... Damn. He might as well just give her his closet. He'd totally be okay with that.
After those thoughts have finally processed, he realizes that Brittany's still standing in the doorway, he's still holding the pan full of eggs and they're both just staring at each other wordlessly.
Clearing his throat, he decides to change that. "Morning," he chirps, beginning his movement toward the kitchen island where two empty plates sit. "How are you?"
Brittany stays where she is, still fiddling with the sleeve of her (borrowed) shirt. "I'm fine, thank you," she whispers, almost sheepishly, her eyes still darting around. "How're you?"
"I'm good. Really good, actually," he admits, meeting blue eyes and grinning as he shoves some eggs onto a plate. "I made us breakfast."
"You can cook?"
There's a playful edge in her tone and Santiago chuckles, nodding.
"Yeah... I don't cook a lot though, so consider this special treatment."
Brittany lifts an eyebrow in his direction but walks over to the stools, pausing to hover behind them. "Do you not like cooking or...?"
"Don't have anyone to cook for," he shrugs, pushing the last of the eggs onto the other plate. "Please, sit." He nods to one of the stools. "Unless you like to stand whilst eating," he jokes, turning around to slide the empty pan onto the counter top.
Brittany giggles but slide onto one of the stools, letting her feet rest on the edge to reveal her long, smooth legs. Memories of last night flash through Santiago's mind, the skin of his waist tingling with the memory of those wrapped around him shooting through his mind. Before he can blush at those thoughts, or before he can get hard at them again, he coughs and flicks his gaze to Brittany who's staring at him, an inscrutable expression on her face.
Looking around, he grows a tad confused as he slides onto the stool opposite Brittany, but shifts around the side to let his leg hang in her view. "What?"
Brittany's eyes stares at him for another long second before she's shaking her head, laughing softly and picking up the fork by the plate full of eggs to start eating. "Nothing."
"Are you sure?" He asks, suddenly feeling a tad self-conscious.
Blue eyes flick to him. "Yeah," she confirms, bringing a forkful of eggs to her mouth and clamping down on the cutlery. She hums as she chews, making one of the most adorable faces he's ever seen and he finds himself staring now, unable to tear his gaze away. "'Ese are 'fo 'ood," she mumbles out, cupping her mouth when she splutters a little egg. Her eyes flick away embarrassed. "'Orry."
He chuckles and shakes his own head, picking up a fork and piles a load of eggs onto it, shoveling it into his mouth and moaning at the taste. Not to be up himself, but he knows how to cook eggs, if nothing else. A comfortable silence falls between them as they eat, stealing glances at each other every now and then. At one particular mouthful, Brittany chews thoughtfully, staring at him and he can see the question forming in the cogs of her mind as he looks at her.
Finally, she asks it. "Why don't you have anyone to cook for?"
It's not what he was expecting, but he still answers. "I live on my own," he explains.
"That's not what I meant," she says and he looks at her. "I meant like... Do you not cook a lot for, um, the girls you have around?"
He narrows his eyes at her question but slowly catches on. "You're talking about like, girls I've slept with, right?" She nods and he exhales, dropping his fork to his plate carefully and sitting up a little more. "No, Britt. I don't. Truth is I haven't really had a lot of one night flings and with my schedule it takes quite hard work to have a girlfriend, and up until now I've never had a reason to work that hard for a girl."
Brittany's eyebrows raise, her blue eyes clear and understanding. "Up until now?"
He smiles and wets his lips. "Well, yeah," he lifts a shoulder and reaches across the counter to her hand resting on top, sliding his finger between hers. "I've never met a girl I really like."
All of a sudden, Brittany goes all bashful, ducking her chin to her chest and twisting her upper torso as her thumb brushes over his. He chuckles and slides off his stool, rounding the counter and urging her around until he can part her thighs and step between them. She's sitting down so she's considerably shorter, but he just tilts her head back, strokes the back of his free hand over her cheek until blue eyes flick up and his heart expands within him. She's just so beautiful.
But then something flashes across her eyes and she's chewing on her lip as her gaze flickers over his face, tracing down his lips, over his neck and down to his bare chest. He frowns.
"What?"
Brittany shrugs and releases his hand to stroke her hands over his abdomen. "I just... I can't believe this actually happened."
A shock of panic strikes him but he forces himself to stay cool. She might not mean that she regrets it by saying that. It could be a good disbelief.
"What do you mean?"
"Just like... Back in high school, I..." She trails off through a breath and he narrows his eyes, brows pushing together.
"Back in high school..." He urges on, still stroking over her face. "You can tell me, Britt."
She takes in a deep breath, and he ignores that he's in the right position to peer down her shirt and at her bare chest, because he wants to know.
"I liked you, San," she admits, voice wavering a little as she looks up at him, but removes it just as quick. "Back in high school... I liked you."
"I liked you, too, Britt. We werebest friends, after all," he laughs but her face stays blank. Okay, maybe he's got the wrong end of the stick.
"No, San, I mean—" Blue eyes flick up and Brittany keeps the contact, clearly struggling with what she's saying. "I liked, liked you," she continues and then it hits him.
Shit. She like, liked, liked him back then. Not as in friends but in as in more. But how is that possible? He doesn't remember a time where she looked at him with the same want he possessed, but wasn't aware of, back then. He doesn't remember a time where he caught her looking at him and thought it was weird but in a good way. He never even knew she'd consideredbeing more with him, even if she'd immediately shrugged it off and thrown that possibility away.
How could she though? He wasn't good looking, he wasn't athletic and thin. He was nothing like all her boyfriends were back then.
"What?" He stutters, confusion thickening with him. "I mean... Ho—How?"
Brittany rolls her eyes but smiles as she drops her gaze to her hands, now making a path down to play with the ties of his sweatpants. "Don't make me say it again," she mumbles but he just stares at her, genuinely confused. "And I had loads of reasons to like you. I mean... You were everything I wanted in a boyfriend back then, and still are, just... You look a little different but that doesn't matter to me."
He sucks in his lower lip and urges her gaze back to his. "You liked me in high school? When I was fat?"
"You weren't fat," she defends immediately. "You were a little bigger but you were still the most handsome guy in school. I honestly didn't know why none of the girls were chasing after you."
Affection warms his chest, curling around his heart and he sighs, head tilting to the side as his eyes flicker between blue. "Why didn't you say something?"
"You were my best friend," she explains. "And you had a thing for Quinn," she shrugs and pouts a little as sadness seeps into her tone. "I didn't have a chance."
Jaw slacking, he gapes down at her. "Youdidn't have a chance!?" He half-screeches. "How can you say that, Britt?"
Brittany seems so small as she keeps her head down, her fingers wrapping around the ties of his sweatpants. All Santiago wants to do is wrap her up into a tight embrace.
"Quinn was the head cheerleader, San. I was the second in command and all the guys wanted her and not me. Anyone who couldn't get her just went for me because they thought I was easy."
Anger pulses through his veins and he clenches his jaw, dropping a hand to her jaw and tilting her whole face up. "That's bullshit, Britt."
"What, so you didn't have a thing for Quinn?"
His face drops. Shit. "Okay, yeah, I did... But had I known you had feelings for me it would've been different."
"But you didn't have feelings for me and you couldn't force them on yourself."
"Britt, that wasn't what I meant," he sighs and shakes his head. "I meant that I had thought about you like that... I had thought about liking you but knowing you were going after Sam, Mike and Puck, I knew I didn't have a chance with you," he explains, stroking up the side of her neck to lay his hand over the hinge of her jaw. "I thought about it but we were best friends and I wanted to have that more than I wanted to be with you because I didn't have that chance." A beat of silence between them. "Do you get what I'm saying?"
Brittany narrows her eyes, staring up at him, not quite understanding. "So you did just wanna be friends with me... That's what you're saying?"
"No, Britt," his head moves from left to right as his eyes flutter, tongue poking out to wet his lips.
He knows what he's trying to say, but he knows by the way Brittany's staring at him that it's not coming out right. See, this is hard. This is really hard because he can't deny he had feelings for Quinn because he did, but he did also have feelings for Brittany at the beginning. The only reason they didn't stay was because he knew that he would never everhave a chance with her. Or thought he didn't anyway.
He's not going to lie either, and say that he had feelings for her all along because he didn't. Maybe somewhere within him there was that lingering tingle, or that leftover remnant of his crush on her that sparked all these years later, but he wants to tell her that he did think about it. That isn't a lie; that's true. For three weeks when they first met he couldn't stop thinking about how amazingly strange that girl was.
But he doesn't know how to put that into words without making it sound bad. Still, he tries his best. "I'm saying that I didn't think I'd have a chance with you at all, so when I first met you, I decided to become your friend because I couldn't be anything else."
She stares at him for a long moment, but then her face relaxes, eyes softening and the corners of her lips curve upward. Her hands begin toying with the ties on his sweatpants again and he chuckles as his other hand comes up to cup the other side of her face, adding a little pressure until Brittany's looking up at him, meeting his eyes and smiling at him with such affection that he almost purrs like a damn cat when she leans into his touch.
Then he starts thinking about them, and the question that's been on the very forefront of his mind since he woke up this morning proves too much to keep in anymore.
"So..." He starts, stroking his thumb over the soft skin of her cheek. "Now that we both know how we feel about each other, and... Stuff happened..." Brittany giggles, grin widening when he shoots her a wink. "What does this mean... For us?"
Brittany wraps her hand around the ones on her face, pulling them into her lap where she plays with his fingers. "Well... I hope it means good things," she replies, her voice small but light and happy. "I mean," she lifts a shoulder and meets his eye. "I know I wanna do that again."
Santiago smirks, in spite of his fluttering stomach, and chews on his bottom lip coyly. Even though he was pretty sure this was how the conversation between them was going to go, hearing it is like, a million times better. It makes him feel excited, happy and nervous but mostly just the first two. Brittany actually wants him back. They're actually going to give it a go.
Holy fuck, that feels good.
"So," he draws out the word through a growing smile. "Does that mean you'll want breakfast again, too?"
"Mmhmm," Brittany hums in approval, rubbing her thumbs across the back of Santiago's hand. "I'll be expecting those eggs every morning from now on," she continues, shooting him a wink.
His stomach tightens, but he's so focused on the flurry of images of him and Brittany in the future, waking up to each other in bed, kissing each other good morning, eating breakfast together and then maybe sneaking in a quick make out session before they head off to work, that he doesn't really feel anything but complete elation.
"Okay," he beams, grinning so wide.
Brittany bounces a little, staring at him and takes in a deep breath as she says, "Okay," in reply.
There's still some uncertainty, though. There's still that little pulling feeling in the center of his stomach that doesn't quite know what this is between them. That doesn't quite know what this officially makes them, or what it means for them now. They like each other, they know that, and both of them want to give 'them' a go, but there's still some problems like the fact that Santiago's flying back to New York in a few hours, or that his work schedule is so packed he rarely ever gets a break.
But he doesn't want to think about these things. They've only just got together and to be honest, he just wants to enjoy having Brittany. He wants to enjoy being with her, touching her, kissing her. He just wants to enjoy the closeness of having Brittany as his girlfriend and if he starts thinking about the outstanding problems, then it'll just screw up his head.
So instead, he squeezes her hands, rubs his thumbs across her knuckles and says, "So..."
Brittany just grins up at him, her eyes sparkling and smile bright, and he knows she's about to say something that's going to make him kiss her. Yet he holds back, because as much as he wants to kiss her, he wants to hear what she has to say.
"So..." she straightens up, clears her throat and wets her lips. "You should probably clear some space in your closet for me in a couple of months."
A short chortle of disbelief bursts from his lips, and he blinks at her. "Really? Why's that?"
Brittany chews on her bottom lip, slowly pushing off the stool and onto her feet until she can wrap her arms around his neck, her fingers toying with the hairs at the back of his neck. She inches forward, their noses squashing together, foreheads touching too, and breathes in, eyes fluttering shut, and he just snakes his arms around her waist and watches her, in all her perfection until those bright blue orbs are staring into his dark ones once more.
"Well, you probably won't want me taking all your clothes," she explains and his heart jumps damn near out his chest, knowing exactly what she's suggesting. "Although I do think I'd look pretty good in your Giants jersey," she adds as an afterthought, eyes drifting off briefly but flicking back to him, a little darker now. "Don't you?"
His hand presses to the small of her back as he lowers his mouth to hers, murmuring, "Fuck yeah, you would," onto her lips before he closes the gap between them and kisses her.