maybe you're not gay, but your girlfriend sure is; pg-13; glee; brittany/santana

[yesssirrr]

Title: maybe you're not gay, but your girlfriend sure is
Pairing: Santana/Brittany; slight mentions of Quinn/Rachel (and a nice little British cameo)
Rating: pg-13 just to be safe
Summary: Taken from a glee_fluff_meme prompt that goes, "College!Brittany/Santana- Brittany dragging Santana to a GSA meeting".
Disclaimer: Not mine. Just writing about them.
Word Count: 2,445 
Spoilers: it's a Future!Fic so everything through Sectionals.
A/N: I didn't think of writing this. It just wrote itself. It's all fluff. And it's my first Brittany/Santana story, so.


Brittany and Santana are sprawled out on the floor idly passing their Saturday afternoon. Santana’s right hand is running through blonde locks as Brittany lays there, eyes closed, fiddling with Santana’s free hand - loosely interlocking their fingers together as her thumb runs gently over their entwined digits. There’s a smile on Brittany’s face and there’s…well, there isn’t a scowl on Santana’s, so everyone is happy.

After lying together in silence, Santana can feel Brittany move around a little beside her. She keeps her eyes closed, but she knows that she’s being watched. This is familiar territory. Santana knows Brittany well enough that she can sense the blonde preparing to ask or do something of her. Up until recently, all she’s done is say ‘yes’ to the blonde girl. But when JewBerry, of all people, tells her she’s gotten tolerable and even nice because Brittany has her wrapped in the other girl’s long and dexterous finger, well, that’s when she thought it was about time to make a stand for herself. Needless to say, that ended up in their first fight.

“San?”

“Hm?”  Santana doesn’t open her eyes.

“Can we go to this GSA meeting tomorrow at the student union?” Brittany makes her best puppy dog eyes and looks hopefully at her girlfriend. Santana, for her part, lifts her head up a little, peeks through one eye before letting her head fall back on the ground.

“No.”

“Santana.”

“No.”

“But, baby…”

“NO!”

“Why not?!” Brittany asks, pulling herself up to sit, though she keeps their fingers tangled together. Santana, feeling movement beside her, opens her eyes and pulls herself up just enough to lean on her elbows.

“Why do you want to go so badly?”

“Because it’d be good for us to meet other people like us.” There’s a pause in their conversation. Santana rolls her eyes.

“We’re not gay.”

“Yeah, but we’re gay for each other. That counts.”

“Britt, no. And that’s final.” Brittany stares blankly, then  blinks - once, twice -  at Santana and the Latina knows that can’t be good. The only time that happens is when she’s about to get in trouble.

“Fine. You can sleep in your own bed tonight. And that’s final.”

Brittany gets up from her spot on the floor and walks over to the door. She turns around and glares at her girlfriend before she slams the door on her way out of their shared dorm room leaving Santana indignantly spewing off expletives to herself in Spanish.

--

It’s been two hours and Santana hasn’t heard anything from Brittany. She tries calling her cell phone, but she only hears a muffled ringtone come from under the covers.

She doesn’t think they need ‘to meet people like them’ but obviously, Brittany does. They’re happy as it is and they don’t need to learn about the ways of the gays for it. But she also knows that when Brittany’s mad at her, she has a lot of work to do to fall back in her good graces.

Sighing, she presses ‘5’ on her speed dial and waits. She’s not happy about it, but desperate times call for Quinn.

“Hello?”

“Fabray, it’s Santana.” There’s a pause on the other end that Santana gets ready to repeat herself but she gets cut off.

“What’d you do now?” Santana furrows her eyebrows and scoffs, because really, why is she getting blamed for this?

“What makes you think I did anything?”

“Is Brittany mad at you?”

“I guess. Yeah.”

“Then it’s your fault.”

“Why is it always my fault?”

“Because it is always your fault. Whenever you call me, it’s because you’ve gone and done something stupid. So what is it this time?” She would’ve argued the point, but blondie on the other end makes a point. She sighs before explaining.

“Brittany wants to go to a GSA meeting tomorrow at the student union and I said no. She asked me why not and I told her that we’re not gay. Then she says something about being gay for each other counts. She stormed out and even slammed the door. I tried calling her, but she left her phone here and I don’t really know where she is right now.”

There’s another pause and it’s starting to irritate Santana because a little feedback would be nice. She figures being around Rachel Berry’s constant unwanted feedback and criticisms would be helpful, but nothing, only silence. “Quinn, did you hear me?”

“I don’t see the problem here, S,” Quinn says finally. Santana sighs in relief. Finally.

“That’s what I thought. But she walked-”

“No, idiot. I don’t see why you would say no.”

“Did you not hear me? We don’t need to go to a GSA meeting to know we love each other.” Santana can hear Quinn click her tongue on the other end of the line and she’s already rolling her eyes because here comes ‘Mama Quinn’ and all her motherly wisdom.

“Santana, I’m going to pretend that what I’m about to tell you is information you already know and you’re just an idiot that can’t remember, OK?”

“What?”

“Brittany wants more friends, S. And she doesn’t want just any friends, she wants gay friends.”

“Why would she want that?” she asks, genuinely confused.

“I don’t know. All I know is that Brittany wanted to explore this whole sexuality thing more and she would appreciate it if you were a little bit more supportive.”

“I am supportive!” she says defending herself, feeling insulted. “Wait, she talked to you about this already?”

“Look S,” Quinn sighs, ignoring the previous question. “You were never the friendly type back in high school. Or now, actually. You may have gotten soft around the edges, but I still know people who will easily shrink away from you.” Santana smirks, feeling proud. But Quinn keeps talking. “Maybe you’re not gay but your girlfriend sure is.”

The smirk is wiped away from her face and a scowl has replaced it, already feeling defeat. She doesn’t understand how this always happens. Before she even says anything, though, her thoughts are interrupted.

“Santana Lopez, you wipe that ugly scowl off your face right now,” Quinn says in a stern motherly voice.

“What the hell, Fabray,” Santana narrows her eyes, annoyed that even hundreds of miles away, Quinn can still read her pretty easily.

“Don’t ‘what the hell’ me. You go apologize to your girlfriend for being an idiot and tell her you’ll go with her to the GSA meeting tomorrow.”

“Do I even have a choice?”

“Not since you proclaimed sex was dating.”

“OK, I’m going to hang up now. I’d thank you for your help, but you weren’t any help at all.” Santana hears a laugh on the other end of the line. She rolls her eyes because really, way to be mature, Fabray.

“She’s sitting in the quad with Kurt. Go.”

Santana shakes her head and hangs up. She gathers herself up off the bed and begrudgingly walks out of the room. She hates when she has to do this, but it’s become a necessary evil in their relationship, so she sucks it up. She just doesn’t want to have to pull their beds apart. She’s already had to do that twice this semester, one for picking a fight with Brittany (“I didn’t terrorize people in high school just to throw it away because I’m in a relationship with you.”) and the other for not being particularly nice to Kurt (“Old habits die hard, baby. I can’t just be a nice Santana overnight.”).

Plus, rearranging furniture around in a dorm room is a bitch and she’s not trying to repeat that.

--

After a bit of groveling and promises not to make snarky comments to anybody at the meeting, Brittany eventually takes Santana in and no one had to move beds that night.

Well, the beds moved.

But for completely different reasons that Santana wishes not to divulge further here or elsewhere.

Don't test her, she has no qualms whatsoever hitting anyone.

--

“I already promised I won’t threaten or make fun of someone, Britt. What more do you want?” she asks as she gets dragged into the student union by her girlfriend who seems to resemble a very eager golden retriever that’s only being slowed down by a leash.

“Just be nice, OK?”

“I’m nice!” Seriously, Santana wonders why she’s obligated to do these things even when she’s getting insulted. She thinks that maybe it’s karma and karma’s a bigger bitch than moving furniture.

“San, your definition of nice is glaring at people instead of calling them mean names to their faces.”

“That is nice! Nobody’s feelings get hurt. That’s a good day for everyone.” Brittany raises an eyebrow, giving her a look. Santana wants to say that’s her doing, but it looks a lot more like Kurt’s. She keeps a mental note to have a discussion with him later about teaching Brittany these things.

“Yeah, they just start fearing for their lives.”

Santana’s about to defend herself, but they’ve reached their destination. They stand in front of a door with a drawing of a rainbow with “LGBTerrific!” in big bold letters. Beside it is another sign with GSA Meetings typed. Had she been the girl she was back in high school, she would’ve laughed and then ripped it off the door. But this is college now and she’s a big girl.

Brittany squeals in excitement beside her and pushes the door open, their hands still firmly held together. Santana doesn’t realize she’s holding onto Brittany’s hand tightly until Brittany squeezes back.

Truth be told, Santana has no problem with the gays. Hell, her girlfriend’s gay, so obviously, no problem there. But she’s still Santana and her parents are still devout Catholics and she’s well aware of the kind of life that’s in store for people in gay relationships. So maybe she doesn’t want to deal with that right now. For a long time, she didn’t want to deal with having feelings for Brittany, so Rule #2 (sex isn’t dating) was put in place. But it’s different now because she might as well be gay-married to the blonde, what with all the things they did for each other. That’s always been Rule #1: do anything for Brittany. And as far as things go, it’s the one rule she’s followed this whole time.

But on the less emotional aspect of things, meetings are just lame and she’s never been a fan, so there.

They walk in to a room with chairs in a circle. Santana fights the urge to roll her eyes because this is exactly the type of things she wanted to avoid, sharing feelings in a circle and being in touch with your emotions and stuff.

Brittany skips to Kurt and hugs him tightly, effectively pulling him off the ground. Kurt, Santana quickly discovers, turns out to be the ring leader of this little meeting. She makes another mental note to have a discussion with him about feeding Brittany with ridiculous ideas like meetings.

When Brittany puts Kurt down, the boy smiles at her and it’s a genuine one. Santana, even after all this time, has little knowledge of proper social interaction that didn’t involve putting someone down that she fights herself between a smirk, a smile and a scowl. She knows she’s formed something stupid-looking out of the three by the widened smile Kurt offers.

“I’m glad you could make it, Santana.” She nods. He turns to face the people already seated in the circle and walks to stand between her and Brittany. “Everyone, this is Brittany’s girlfriend, Santana. Santana, this is everyone. This is her first time here, so let’s all play nice and try not to be scared of her.” Kurt smirks, obviously teasing. She glares at him, but there’s no venom.

Brittany’s smiling wide, probably just glad that she could make Santana go in the first place.

The group in front of her smiles and greets her cheerily, introducing themselves quickly. She’s pretty sure that she doesn’t remember anyone’s names, except for that blonde sitting four or five seats down from her, Naomi or something, who looks completely enamored with the red head beside her. Santana thinks the blonde’s pretty hot. Can’t really say she doesn’t have a type.

She has to admit that this is a pretty happy looking bunch. Santana’s not for jokes (unless it’s at someone else’s expense most of the time), but it makes her smile when she realizes ‘gay’ also means ‘happy’.

She eventually takes a seat beside Brittany who, by sheer habit, holds her hand. As the meeting officially starts, Brittany leans in and whispers in her ear.

“Thanks for coming,” she says before giving Santana a light peck on the cheek.

--

Santana will never admit it and she will kick your ass if you say otherwise, but going to the meeting was a good decision. She had fun and it was the best part of that Sunday for her. Well, that and when they got the beds to move again.

It’s the following Saturday and they’re cuddling in bed. This time, Brittany’s playing with her hair and Santana’s drawing circles on the blonde’s chest with her finger.

She’s trying hard not to think about it because she hasn’t really given it much thought, but the words come out before she even process that she’s said them.

“Why didn’t you tell me you’ve been going to the GSA meetings all this time?” Santana can feel Brittany’s hand stop momentarily and the girl beside her shift a little. But the hand is running through her hair again and Brittany clears her throat.

“I don’t know. At first I wanted to do it for myself because I knew you’d never go for it. But it was nice having them around and just enjoying the company of people that will never judge the two of us together. It made me so happy, I couldn’t find a reason why I shouldn’t share with you. So I did.”

Santana lifts her head up and places a chaste kiss on Brittany’s lips.

“You’re right, it was nice. Are we going again tomorrow?”

Brittany looks at her, an excited smile on her face. “You wanna come again tomorrow?”

“Yeah, why not? It was fun last week.” She tries to play it all cool, but Brittany can see right through her.

Overjoyed, Brittany surprises the both of them when she turns quickly so she’s straddling Santana.

“You mean it?” Brittany asks, hopeful.

“Yeah. Plus, that Naomi girl is really hot.” Brittany playfully hits her on the arm. Santana just smirks right before their lips touch.

What? She’s still Santana.