Boring, boring, boring. Santana thought if she rolled her eyes anymore her mom's warning about them getting stuck that way would actually come true.
"Isn't this fun?" Brittany just about squealed from beside her.
"Sure, if you say so." Santana faked a smile.
Rachel, Quinn, Mercedes, and Kurt chatted adamantly nearby as they settled down for the movie they were about to watch on Quinn's television (it was bigger than any of theirs). Santana had settled on the large sofa, taking control of the left seat cushion; Brittany took over the cushion beside her. Mercedes and Kurt was snuggled together on a love seat to the latina's left, with Rachel settled on the final cushion of the large sofa and Quinn snagging the single chair to the right that went with the living room set.
"What are we watching again?" Santana asked aloud.
"We are watching Dear John. A heartbreaking chick flick for ladies' night," Kurt answered.
"Did you know Amanda Seyfield sings some of the songs on the soundtrack?" Rachel asked.
This began a whole discussion about wannabe actors becoming singers and vica versa - Santana wished she was jerking off Puck right now. At least that's over quickly and he lets her get on with her night. Except Brittany had given her puppy eyes and begged her to come along, throwing in a small pout for good measures. The girl was a mastermind in the art of pleading to the shred of humanity in the self-proclaimed HBIC.
"Oh, don't forget the popcorn!" Kurt exclaimed when he saw Quinn heading to the kitchen.
"I know," she said with a small look of confused amusement.
The movie was on ten minutes later, the lights off and the sound turned up to a reasonable level where no one would ask to raise it louder. Santana watched enough of the first few moments of the movie to know she couldn't care less about it and contemplated taking a nap to end her misery. A half hour into the movie and Santana was seriously thinking about getting up and leaving, but Brittany was too cute all curled up against her. There was a blanket tucked around them that Brittany had brought along because she liked to cuddle while watching movies with Santana.
To be honest, Santana missed this. Missed just hanging out with her best friend. Hell, she missed her best friend period. With the whole lesbian confession bullshit and Brittany dating Artie, Santana had did everything she could to stay away from the person that hurt her just by being so wonderful. That was why she agreed to come to this and why Santana felt compelled to stay even if the stupid movie on the screen was only stupid because it was reminding her of the one thing she couldn't have - a relationship with Brittany like Artie had with her.
An hour into the movie and Santana had reluctantly been pulled into the drama on the screen. So it would be that she was quite shocked to feel a hand on her thigh some time later. Casting a glance at Brittany, the blonde didn't meet her gaze, only continued to watch the screen, oblivious to the dark haired girl. Santana wanted to pretend it had just been an accident but that was impossible as the hand was stroking her thigh and definitely sliding higher up her thigh with each stroke. Wanting to say something, the latina had a feeling that would just draw attention to them so she shifted her legs open enough to give access to whatever Brittany was planning; definitely a good thing she had decided to wear a skirt.
A sneaky hand crept its way in-between caramel thighs and didn't even bother to be polite about shoving Santana's panties aside and delving in. The angle felt weird so Santana laid her head on the blonde's shoulder and spread her legs just a bit more, making sure to keep each move as subtle and as natural as she could, even hiking her skirt up just a bit. It suddenly dawned on Santana as Brittany's fingers twirled around just within her entrance why the blonde had brought a blanket - she'd been planning this all along.
Maybe Santana would have taken the time to be earnestly pleased by the blonde's secret genius, but fingers were doing wonderful things to her clit and... Seriously, what was thought? Forcing herself to stare at the screen just in case anyone decided to throw them a glance, Santana had to bite the inside of her lips to prevent any sound from escaping. Hard, indeed. When Santana finally came, she did the most embarrassing thing she ever had done - she made a loud hiccuping squeak as everything she'd been trying to hold in came out in one compressed sound.
Everyone heard it.
Eyes fell on the two girls cuddled up beneath the blanket. Santana froze, closing her eyes quickly to feign sleep, and thus, ignorance. It was Brittany who blushed slightly and covered her mouth.
"Excuse me," she said. "Popcorn gives me hiccups sometimes."
The others shrugged, Rachel offering Brittany a sip of her soda, which the blonde accepted with her free hand, and then everyone settled back to the movie as if nothing had happened. Brittany kissed the top of Santana's head, her hand wiping on the blanket before she took Santana's hand and settled against the sofa's back all the way. Without meaning to, Santana really did nod off for a bit, feeling that peace she only knew with Brittany. Things felt like they should again.
When the movie was over, Santana and Brittany were the first ones heading out the door. Outside in Santana's car, the latina turned to look at the blonde who was buckling her seatbelt. A street lamp painted half the interior yellow, lighting up the blonde as if she was under a spotlight meant only for Santana's viewing.
"What was that about?"
"The movie was about two people coming together and breaking up because the chick had someone else, I think," Brittany replied.
"Not the movie. What happened under the blanket?"
"Oh." The blonde gave a small shrug. "The movie made me horny."
Santana knew Brittany a lot better than that. "Don't lie to me."
Looking down at the glove compartment door, the blonde directed her answer at it. "I miss touching you. Artie isn't soft like you are." Turning her gaze uncertainly up to her friend, Brittany asked, "Did I do wrong?"
A tear rolled down Santana's cheek as she fought the flood of emotion that was bubbling in her chest.
"I don't know, but thanks for covering for me when I squeaked."
"You mean that wasn't me? I thought it was." Brittany looked honestly surprised.
"Let's just get you home."
Santana started the car and tried not to cry as she drove Brittany home.
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