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Santana's no Finn Hudson but damn, this choreo is killing her.
Out of everyone in this stupid club, of course Schuester would pair her with Noah Puckerman for whatever asinine choreography he came up with this week. Puck didn't look too happy about being paired with her either, but apparently they've both lost their touch. None of their threats got through Schuester's thick skull.
Brittany got paired with Mike like she always does. He's the only one who can keep up with her. Still, Santana feels a flame of jealousy lick up her chest seeing her girlfriend twirl around someone else.
Girlfriend? Is that what Brittany is to her now? Whatever she has with Brittany is still new to both of them. Santana doesn't like the word 'girlfriend'. It sounds stupid but saying that the two of them are 'girlfriends' now erases every other part of their relationship. Before they were 'girlfriends', they were cheer sisters, they were partners-in-crime. They were best friends.
And now they're just 'girlfriends'. Just another ticked box on McKinley High's diversity checklist.
So yeah. It pisses her off that her 'girlfriend' is dancing with, arguably, one of the hottest guys on the football team. It pisses her off so much that when Puck steps on her foot, she shoves him away and socks him in the chest.
"Mr. Schue," Puck grunts, rubbing the spot where Santana hit him. "Can I get an opt-out? Someone else can slow-dance with Santana, she looks like she's about to rip my balls off."
Schuester shakes his head. "I picked you two to be partners for a reason. You have great chemistry together, I don't want to lose that by splitting you up."
Needless to say, Santana had a lot to say about this week's assignment when Brittany came over later that day.
Brittany sits on Santana's bed, her legs folded under each other and eyes intent as Santana paces the room. She listens as Santana rants about Puck, and how she wants to throw up every time she smells his cologne because it reminds her of all of the times they hooked up. She rants about Rachel Berry and how they're all just swaying along to the sound of her voice and only her voice yet again, and how she got partnered with Quinn but doesn't let her sing. She rants about Schuester and how he has no idea what chemistry between two people even looks like. The guy's a divorcee for God's sake.
She rants about Mike Chang and how unfair it is that he nailed the choreography the first time they ran through it.
"If it's the choreo that's bothering you," Brittany says, "I can practice with you. We have to do it soon though. If we dance when the moon's out, we can attract werewolves and I don't think your house is barricaded properly."
Santana stops pacing. "We can't practice together. We're both girls."
Brittany frowns and crosses her arms over her chest. "I thought you were over this. Santana, I know you're still scared about being with me but you told me you love me, and you not wanting to dance with me doesn't feel like you love me."
"No! Brittany, it's not that," Santana says, rushing to Brittany's side. She smiles at Brittany and that seems to appease her. "I want to dance with you. You have no idea how much I want to dance with you. All I meant is that neither of us knows the guy’s part."
"Yes we do. I helped Mr. Schue come up with the choreo," Brittany says.
Duh. Santana nearly smacks her forehead. Schuester would never be able to come up with choreography this complex. Plus, there are no shimmies, jazz hands, or awful two-step transitions to be found. This had to have come from the mind of her brilliant best friend.
‘Girlfriend’, she mentally reminds herself. ‘Girlfriend’, Santana. Brittany's your ‘girlfriend’.
"Look," Brittany hops off Santana's bed and grabs her phone. Putting on the original version of this week's song, Brittany taps out the opening beats of the instrumental before moving her arms in a way Santana remembers seeing Mike doing. "I'll be the guy and you can be the girl."
Santana shakes her head. None of Brittany's usual pleas get to her.
Except for that damn pout she always gives Santana whenever she really wants something. Damn that pout.
"Yay," Brittany cheers. She restarts the song, beckons Santana closer, and places a hand over Santana's eyes.
"Britt-"
"Close your eyes. Imagine I'm Puck. It'll help, I think," Brittany explains.
As soon as Santana does, Brittany pulls her even closer, leading Santana's hands to her hips. Her own hands wrap around Santana's waist to reach the small of her back. "Keep your eyes closed, okay?" she says as they take their first step together.
Santana rests her head against Brittany's shoulder, since that's what she would do with Puck. She makes a noise of surprise when Brittany moves them again. They take a step to the left, then a step to the right. When Santana stumbles over Brittany's foot, she quickly reels back, breaking free from Brittany's arms.
"I'm- I'm sorry Britt, I just," Santana stammers, squeezing her eyes to make sure they stay shut.
"It's okay," Brittany says gently. There's a sudden rush of air as, Santana assumes, Brittany comes closer. Taking Santana's hands, Brittany keeps them at a safe, almost-excruciatingly safe, distance apart.
"I... " Santana pauses to think for a moment but Brittany's rubbing circles onto her wrists with her thumbs. And it's really distracting.
"Do you want to try again?"
Santana nods.
"Okay, I think we should try doing the hard part first." Brittany turns her around and Santana recognizes this position from rehearsals. That doesn't stop her from flinching when Brittany hugs her from behind, though.
This time, it's Brittany who rests her head on Santana's shoulder. Daring to open her eyes just for a split second, Santana sees that they're right in front of her wall mirror. Brittany's eyes are closed, a content smile on her face. Santana smiles too, and commits that image to memory as she closes her eyes again. She places her hands over Brittany's and tries to intertwine their fingers in some way. It doesn't work, of course, but Santana takes advantage of Brittany's loosened grip to turn around and wrap her arms around her waist. She pulls Brittany closer, placing a hand on the back of Brittany's head as she replaces it on Santana's shoulder.
"This isn't part of the choreo," Brittany muses affectionately. "I wish it was though."
Santana laughs and works her other hand up Brittany's back.
"We should reset," Santana says, although it's clear to both of them that she's making no effort to move.
Brittany hums in agreement. Santana absentmindedly lets her hands return to Brittany's hips. "You don't feel like Puck," she jokes, "I think that's the thing that's messing me up."
"Is it my chest?"
Santana shakes her head and nudges Brittany's head off her shoulder. “Um, hold on.”
Working slowly, Santana explores what she can of Brittany's body. Not like it would help her find the words to tell Brittany exactly why she doesn't feel like Puck. Maybe it's just an excuse to touch her more. Santana's face warms.
She steers clear of Brittany's face until Brittany guides her fingers up to her cheek. She presses into her hand and Santana's mind stops working. She wants to tell Brittany that it really is her chest that's clouding the mental image of her dance partner but she knows Brittany won’t be satisfied with that answer. Instead, she places her hand on the back of Brittany's head. Using her other hand to steady herself, Santana leans in and kisses her.
The heat starts in her chest, blooming and blooming until she can feel her heart racing. Brittany's lips taste like sweet nectar and Santana drinks her in like a honeybee who's found the only flower in a field full of weeds.
Brittany returns the kiss with the same amount of fervor, and when they part for air, Santana's already leaning back in.
"Do you want to know a secret?" Brittany asks against her lips. "You have to promise not to tell anyone."
Santana finally lets her eyes open. She smiles at Brittany, her girlfriend. "I promise."
"I made this choreo hoping that Mr. Schue would pair us together," she tells Santana, letting their foreheads rest against each other. "I tried to make it as romantic as possible, and I knew it wouldn't just be us. I was happy that Quinn and Rachel got paired together - that was also part of my plan - but I guess the universe had other plans for us."
"Damn the universe," Santana whispers. "Tonight, we make our own plans."
Brittany giggles. "I love you Santana."
"Love you too, Britt."
She'll never get used to saying it. Every time she says it, it makes her hands tremble, her heart clench. But it also makes her feel… free. Free and anxious and hopeful and terrified. Then, maybe, she doesn’t want to ever get used to it.