Fic: Still Not Dating
Author's Note: For ducksinthehat, on her birthday. I wish this story were better...
Brittany’s room was dark, but Santana had known it would be. She didn’t need light, anyway, to find her way to her best friend’s bed. Carefully, she swung herself in through the window, closing it behind her before making her way through a small maze of clothes, forgotten homework, and stuffed animals to Brittany’s bed. It was barely nine o’clock, so she couldn’t expect Brittany home anytime soon, but somehow, being in the blonde’s bedroom, settling comfortably on her bed, made it easier for Santana to swallow the fact that Brittany had cheerfully gone on a date without her.
Santana had gone on dates without Brittany, of course-but not happily, not really-but whenever some ape asked her friend out, Santana grabbed another ape and went with her, watching the guy like a hawk and ignoring her own date. But then Mike Chang, whom Santana couldn’t even bring herself to hate, had sweetly asked Brittany if he could buy her dinner, and Brittany had accepted with her easy smile-all right in front of Santana, who found herself powerless to snap at Mike or tell Brittany they already had plans, or even to corner Matt Rutherford and insist he take her out too, so they could accompany Mike and Brittany.
So here she was, sneaking around her best friend’s room, waiting anxiously for her return, hoping she didn’t actually like Mike, because… “Why?” she asked herself. “Shouldn’t Brittany be able to like people who aren’t you?” She didn’t answer herself, just scowled at the rip in her jeans near the knee, and waited.
She could have sat there for twenty minutes or two hours, and maybe she even fell asleep, but all of a sudden, she heard Brittany call her name. It was still dark, and Brittany hadn’t even stepped into the room, but of course she knew Santana was there. “Santana?” she said again, her voice more uncertain this time, and Santana shook herself and moved to the edge of the bed.
“Yeah, Britt,” she yawned, and Brittany moved into the room, turning on a light. Santana blinked and squinted, and her best friend laughed.
“What are you doing here, in the dark?” she asked, as she proceeded to get undressed.
“Oh, well…” Santana suddenly felt like a stalker. “I…wanted to see how your date went,” she said lamely.
“Okay,” Brittany accepted easily, and Santana blushed. “It was nice,” she said absently, and Santana frowned.
“What?”
Brittany laughed and came to sit with Santana on the edge of the bed, in just her underwear and tank top. “My date with Mike. Isn’t that why you’re here?”
“Oh. Right.” Santana sighed.
“That’s not why you’re here,” Brittany realized, cocking her head to the side.
Santana avoided her gaze, focusing on the rip in her jeans again. Brittany put a gentle hand on Santana’s back. “You missed me,” she said, lightly teasing, and Santana sighed.
“Yes, all right. I missed you,” she admitted gruffly, and Brittany kissed the side of her head.
“Why didn’t you get Matt or someone and come with us? That’s what you usually do,” she said innocently.
Santana shrugged. “I didn’t want to be in your way.”
“Why? Did you think I actually…like Mike?”
“He’s the only one I’ve ever seen you talk to.”
“We talk about dancing and stuff. He’s nice.”
“So you don’t like him?” Santana asked, holding her breath but not realizing it.
“No. He’s a pretty good kisser, though.”
Right then, Santana felt she could have been jealous, but Brittany kissed everyone-seriously, everyone-so she laughed and let her head fall to her best friend’s shoulder. “You know who’s a better kisser?” Brittany murmured, sliding an arm around Santana’s waist.
“Who?” Santana asked, and in an instant, she felt like an idiot, because Brittany was looking at her with dark eyes. She felt her face grow hot, and she looked away.
“What’s up with you tonight?” Brittany worried. “Did I do something?”
“No!” Santana insisted, too loudly, and she got to her feet. “I’m sorry. This was… I was being stupid… I should-”
“Don’t go,” Brittany said softly, and Santana found her feet stuck to the floor. “Just come here and let me kiss you.”
“Oh, well. All right,” Santana said, feigning reluctance, and Brittany giggled with delight as her friend remembered how to be playful.
Santana knelt beside Brittany on the bed, and the blonde leaned up, searching those dark eyes she knew so well, and kissed her gently. “Go get undressed,” Brittany ordered. “You’re staying here tonight.”
“Bossy,” Santana smirked, but she got up and pulled off her jeans and sweatshirt.
“You like it,” Brittany returned, deftly unhooking her friend’s bra through her t-shirt.
“I like that,” Santana practically purred, as she discarded the bra, and Brittany giggled.
“San, you know you’re my favorite, right?” Brittany asked, as they settled more comfortably on the bed.
“I’d better be,” Santana replied, finding her confidence again, and she reveled in Brittany’s affectionate laughter.
“Come here,” Brittany ordered, and she pulled Santana to sit between her legs. Startled, Santana went rigid in the other girl’s embrace, but Brittany gently kissed her head, and she found herself relaxing.
They talked softly for a while, about Mike, about glee, about Rachel’s latest crime against sweaters, doing nothing more than playing with each other’s fingers, but it sent a thrill through Santana all the same, as Brittany’s thumb lightly grazed her wrist. But presently she found herself growing tired. Yawning, she leaned back against Brittany’s chest, and her friend tightened her arms around her, placing a kiss on the top of her head. “This is a way better date,” Brittany whispered, and Santana chuckled through the sleep fogging her brain.
“This isn’t a date, silly,” she said fondly, but Brittany just kissed her head again and held her close as she slid into sleep.
Brittany’s room was dark, but Santana had known it would be. She didn’t need light, anyway, to find her way to her best friend’s bed. Carefully, she swung herself in through the window, closing it behind her before making her way through a small maze of clothes, forgotten homework, and stuffed animals to Brittany’s bed. It was barely nine o’clock, so she couldn’t expect Brittany home anytime soon, but somehow, being in the blonde’s bedroom, settling comfortably on her bed, made it easier for Santana to swallow the fact that Brittany had cheerfully gone on a date without her.
Santana had gone on dates without Brittany, of course-but not happily, not really-but whenever some ape asked her friend out, Santana grabbed another ape and went with her, watching the guy like a hawk and ignoring her own date. But then Mike Chang, whom Santana couldn’t even bring herself to hate, had sweetly asked Brittany if he could buy her dinner, and Brittany had accepted with her easy smile-all right in front of Santana, who found herself powerless to snap at Mike or tell Brittany they already had plans, or even to corner Matt Rutherford and insist he take her out too, so they could accompany Mike and Brittany.
So here she was, sneaking around her best friend’s room, waiting anxiously for her return, hoping she didn’t actually like Mike, because… “Why?” she asked herself. “Shouldn’t Brittany be able to like people who aren’t you?” She didn’t answer herself, just scowled at the rip in her jeans near the knee, and waited.
She could have sat there for twenty minutes or two hours, and maybe she even fell asleep, but all of a sudden, she heard Brittany call her name. It was still dark, and Brittany hadn’t even stepped into the room, but of course she knew Santana was there. “Santana?” she said again, her voice more uncertain this time, and Santana shook herself and moved to the edge of the bed.
“Yeah, Britt,” she yawned, and Brittany moved into the room, turning on a light. Santana blinked and squinted, and her best friend laughed.
“What are you doing here, in the dark?” she asked, as she proceeded to get undressed.
“Oh, well…” Santana suddenly felt like a stalker. “I…wanted to see how your date went,” she said lamely.
“Okay,” Brittany accepted easily, and Santana blushed. “It was nice,” she said absently, and Santana frowned.
“What?”
Brittany laughed and came to sit with Santana on the edge of the bed, in just her underwear and tank top. “My date with Mike. Isn’t that why you’re here?”
“Oh. Right.” Santana sighed.
“That’s not why you’re here,” Brittany realized, cocking her head to the side.
Santana avoided her gaze, focusing on the rip in her jeans again. Brittany put a gentle hand on Santana’s back. “You missed me,” she said, lightly teasing, and Santana sighed.
“Yes, all right. I missed you,” she admitted gruffly, and Brittany kissed the side of her head.
“Why didn’t you get Matt or someone and come with us? That’s what you usually do,” she said innocently.
Santana shrugged. “I didn’t want to be in your way.”
“Why? Did you think I actually…like Mike?”
“He’s the only one I’ve ever seen you talk to.”
“We talk about dancing and stuff. He’s nice.”
“So you don’t like him?” Santana asked, holding her breath but not realizing it.
“No. He’s a pretty good kisser, though.”
Right then, Santana felt she could have been jealous, but Brittany kissed everyone-seriously, everyone-so she laughed and let her head fall to her best friend’s shoulder. “You know who’s a better kisser?” Brittany murmured, sliding an arm around Santana’s waist.
“Who?” Santana asked, and in an instant, she felt like an idiot, because Brittany was looking at her with dark eyes. She felt her face grow hot, and she looked away.
“What’s up with you tonight?” Brittany worried. “Did I do something?”
“No!” Santana insisted, too loudly, and she got to her feet. “I’m sorry. This was… I was being stupid… I should-”
“Don’t go,” Brittany said softly, and Santana found her feet stuck to the floor. “Just come here and let me kiss you.”
“Oh, well. All right,” Santana said, feigning reluctance, and Brittany giggled with delight as her friend remembered how to be playful.
Santana knelt beside Brittany on the bed, and the blonde leaned up, searching those dark eyes she knew so well, and kissed her gently. “Go get undressed,” Brittany ordered. “You’re staying here tonight.”
“Bossy,” Santana smirked, but she got up and pulled off her jeans and sweatshirt.
“You like it,” Brittany returned, deftly unhooking her friend’s bra through her t-shirt.
“I like that,” Santana practically purred, as she discarded the bra, and Brittany giggled.
“San, you know you’re my favorite, right?” Brittany asked, as they settled more comfortably on the bed.
“I’d better be,” Santana replied, finding her confidence again, and she reveled in Brittany’s affectionate laughter.
“Come here,” Brittany ordered, and she pulled Santana to sit between her legs. Startled, Santana went rigid in the other girl’s embrace, but Brittany gently kissed her head, and she found herself relaxing.
They talked softly for a while, about Mike, about glee, about Rachel’s latest crime against sweaters, doing nothing more than playing with each other’s fingers, but it sent a thrill through Santana all the same, as Brittany’s thumb lightly grazed her wrist. But presently she found herself growing tired. Yawning, she leaned back against Brittany’s chest, and her friend tightened her arms around her, placing a kiss on the top of her head. “This is a way better date,” Brittany whispered, and Santana chuckled through the sleep fogging her brain.
“This isn’t a date, silly,” she said fondly, but Brittany just kissed her head again and held her close as she slid into sleep.