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After School	By : chipperdyke Category: G through L > Glee Views: 4465 -:- Recommendations : 1 -:- Currently Reading : 1
Disclaimer: I don't own Glee, these characters, or this story! I get no money ! don't shoot me!

Chapter List
- 1-After School
- 1
"Hey." Santana was brief and direct. "I'm coming over after school."

Brittany's face lit up adorably. "Really?"

"Of course. It's not like I hate you," Santana informed her, closing her locker. This was news to Brittany, as intended.

"I don't hate you either!" Brittany said excitedly, following Santana.

"Your class is that way," Santana informed her coldly, and Brittany's face fell a little as she turned and walked the other direction. See, it wasn't exactly that she forgave Brittany. It was just.... "I'll see you in an hour," she added, calling after her best friend.

The car ride was uneventful; Brittany's house was close, so Santana only managed to tailgate four people and beep obnoxiously over "Bad Romance" once. Brittany was recently obsessed with the song, and Santana tolerated the endless loop, giggling at her friend's antics.

"So, what are we doing?" Brittany asked cheerfully as she unlocked the front door. She was an latchkey child, which is why they always went to her place; Santana's mother was home.

"I thought we'd watch Pinapple Express," Santana suggested, taking Brittany's hand and pulling her up the stairwell. Brittany loved Pinapple Express; she'd successfully found no less than five pineapples (Santana wasn't sure about the last one), and used every opportunity to search for more.

Her room, as always, looked like something out of a Barbie commercial if you ignored the occasional bra strewn about. Brittany went to her video collection, and Santana took the opportunity to strip off her shirt, standing naked in the middle of the room when Brittany turned around.

"Oh!" Brittany squeaked, her eyes glued to her friend's (fake) breasts.

Santana giggled at that. "Put in the movie," she said.

"Okay," Brittany said, dropping the DVD on the floor and walking up to Santana, her eyes still fixed on Santana's boobs.

Santana put her arms on Brittany's shoulders, capturing her lips in a gentle kiss. It felt so real, so natural, so perfect that Santana fell into Brittany, molding her body to her friend's. Brittany's hands flew to Santana's hips, touching them with featherlight fingers, and then running her fingers eagerly up Santana's flat stomach to cup her breasts. Santana moaned into Brittany's mouth, arching into her and feeling her nipples harden instantly.

"I missed you," Santana panted.

And suddenly Brittany stepped backward, out of Santana's reach. "I have a boyfriend!" she said, remembering Artie.

"So?" Santana said. "Never stopped us before."

"When you had a boyfriend. Now's different."

"That's right," Santana said. "Different plumbing, different purposes... he doesn't care. What we do doesn't count as cheating, remember? It's not sex."

"Oh," Brittany said, brow crinkling. "I should tell him, shouldn't I?"

"But then he might say we can't," Santana said illogically, but Brittany bought it.

"Okay," she said, taking Santana's hand and leading her to the bed. "Let's get snuggly."

Santana slipped out of her miniskirt and burrowed under Brittany's covers, watching her friend unfasten her bra. When Brittany only had her panties on, Santana lifted the covers for her, and Brittany slipped her spare frame in, unaccountably smiling. "I'm so glad you're not mad at me anymore," she said, hugging Santana. Their breasts pressed together, a soft womanly mash.

Santana felt her body responding to their nakedness easily, a warmth creeping into her frigidness, relaxing her. It was probably because they did this so many times; her body was so accustomed to Brittany's. She felt safe, at peace, for the first time in a month. And she felt alive. She wiggled her body to increase the surface area shared, slipping her leg between her friend's and stroking her back. "It was dumb," she confessed, avoiding Brittany's eyes. "I don't even remember why I was angry."

"It was because I was dating Artie," Brittany said helpfully, eliciting a growl from Santana's throat. The warmth was suddenly chilly.

"Please don't say his name."

"K," Brittany said, and then she started rubbing Santana's back and side, making her skin ripple in pleasure and bringing up goosebumps. The chill disappeared in a wave of relief and teasing almost-satisfaction. Brittany giggled at Santana's reaction, slipping a hand down to grasp Santana's ass, which Santana responded to by kissing Brittany's sensitive neck, and then licking the top of her collarbone. Brittany giggled again, her nipples hardening against Santana's breasts satisfyingly.

Santana pushed her onto her back and straddled her hips, bringing her core into contact with Brittany's mound. She wondered whether two layers of underwear would be enough to hide her wetness, grinding a little on Brittany and pinching her friend's erect nipples. "You're a hot cheerleader," she observed to Brittany. "Do you know how many men want to get under that tiny skirt of yours?"

"They're not going to," Brittany said, reciting the words they'd spoken to each other so many times. "Not tonight." She responded to Santana's grinding by thrusting gently, which escalated the other girl's movements.

"And why not, gorgeous thing?"

"You're mine tonight," Brittany whispered, and Santana bent down to kiss her again, flattening her body against Brittany's and incidentally pressing her clit against her friend's pubic bone. Brittany moaned in response, and Santana wondered fleetingly when exactly it was that Brittany had learned so well what gave her pleasure, reacting to those things as if they'd been done to her. Brittany's lips were possessive now, and her fingers skittered against Santana's body, first gripping her breasts and then raking her back with her fingernails.

And then Brittany sat up, pushing Santana back onto the bed, which threw off their covers completely. She settled her head between her friend's legs, nuzzling Santana's soaking underwear with a devilish expression on her face.

Santana squirmed out of them, panting, and put her legs back on either side of Brittany's face. Brittany kissed her wet folds, and then licked her thoroughly, brushing her clit softly with the tip of her tongue before plunging in again, teasing the woman's entrance and then slipping her tongue inside, licking her spongy top plate. The deeper, more intimate contact was strange to Santana, so very different from a penis; new, and so wonderful that she cursed out loud.

Brittany stopped, peeking her head up worriedly. "Don't stop," Santana managed, but Brittany avoided going inside again, lapping at Santana's juices and then wigging her tongue against Santana's clit.

The orgasm was like a flash of lightning, quick and gone too soon. Brittany knew she came, she always knew, but she didn't stop, licking the rest of her vulva while Santana worked up her energy again, and then kissing her clit, kissing the inside of her thighs and grasping her ass.

"Can I go inside?" Brittany asked deferentially. "You're so... thick today, San."

"You don't like it?" Santana managed, whispering through her arousal.

"I love it," Brittany said, and Santana could see the utter honesty in her friend's face. "I love it when you squeeze my fingers, too. And you're so thick, it works so well when you're like this."

Somehow her friend's confession turned Santana on even more. "Come here," she said, pulling on Brittany and kissing her wet lips through her doe-eyed expression. Brittany was passive, waiting for Santana to decide, giving her body up to Santana. "Take me, sweetheart," Santana finally said.

Brittany took her time, gentle, beginning with one finger, sliding in and most of the way out, not putting too much pressure on her. Santana moaned, and the most amazing warmth spread from her core, waves of something soft and pure. "I love your long fingers," Santana whispered. "I love how gentle you are."

Brittany looked at her with adoration in her eyes and added a finger, and suddenly it was so much more than warmth - it was tingling icy fire, impossibly sweet, impossible driving need too, so deep and soft and full. "Brittany," Santana said, and then forgot what she was going to say, lost in the sensation, her eyes rolling back and her skin suddenly numb and tender. "Brittany!"

When she came down she was crying, great sobs wracking her. "Shh, shh," Brittany said, patting her with a guilty expression on her face. "I'm sorry. I love you rippling around me, I love you squeezing..."

Santana clung to her friend, her sobs subsiding. "You're mine," Santana said finally, the relief coming right before the exhaustion. Brittany nodded to her, and then slid behind her, spooning. She kissed her neck.

"Don't you... want..." Santana said incoherently.

"Later," Brittany said. "I want to watch you sleep."

"Okay," Santana said, and dropped off like a sack of lead.
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After School