Work Text:
Gleecember 2025
December 31 – Sunrise/Midnight
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It was five minutes until midnight and the Pierces' New Year's Eve party was in full swing. Brittany grabbed Santana's hand and dragged her back to their old room.
“Britt? What's going on? It's almost midnight,” Santana was confused as to why Brittany was dragging her away from the chaos. Brittany loved the chaos of midnight on New Year's Eve.
“Because,” she said, closing the door and moving to the cribs that Pierce had set up for them. “It's about to be a new year. It's December thirty-first.” She picked up Diego and handed him to Santana, then picked up Jax and cradled him to her. “It's been thirty days since the boys showed up on our doorstep. Thirty days, Santana.”
“Oh my god, Britt,” Santana bit her lower lip, a tear slipping free as she looked from Diego to Jax to Brittany. “They're ours,” she whispered.
Brittany nodded, smiling through her own tears. “They're ours. In three minutes, we'll start a new year. As a family.” She leaned her forehead against Santana's, gazing in her eyes as they cuddled the boys between them.
“I wanted us to start the new year with our boys. I love you and our life just got so much better. I know we didn't talk about it,” she faltered, “about how we might not get here. With them. But we did. And … I just thought this would be the best way to start the new year.”
Santana nodded slightly against Brittany's forehead. “It is. Of course it is. You're right.” She smiled as she gazed into Brittany's eyes. “You're a genius, Brittany.” Her smile brightened as she watched the color rise in Brittany's cheeks.
The noise of the party ramped up through the closed door.
“10”
“9”
“8”
“7”
“6”
“5”
“4”
“3”
“2”
“1”
The sounds of Auld Lang Syne were practically drowned out by the cheers, the popping of champagne corks, laughter, horns, and shouts of “Happy New Year!”.
They didn't hear anything as their lips met in the softest, sweetest, most meaningful of kisses. They broke apart and kissed each boy before bringing their lips together again.
“Happy New Year, Santana.” Brittany sighed as they parted again.
“Happy New Year, Britt.”
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Santana gently shook Brittany's shoulder. She'd gotten the boys into their warm snowsuits and had put two blankets out on the back porch of the Lopez house.
“Britt, honey, wake up,” she smiled as Brittany grumbled.
“San?” Brittany squinted at her. “Time'sit?”
“A little after five.”
“Why are you waking me?” Santana understood her confusion; they'd gotten home from the Pierce house party around one-thirty, fed and settled the boys, and it was almost two-thirty by the time they fell into bed.
“Get dressed and come with me,” Santana told her.
Brittany looked at her like she was crazy but struggled out of bed and put on a pair of warm sweats, a hoodie, and a sherpa-lined (fake sherpa, of course) denim jacket. Santana was holding Diego, so she picked up Jax and they walked upstairs, grabbed their boots from the front door, and went out the back door to the porch.
Santana had placed one of the blankets on the top step and, as she and Brittany sat down with the boys, she wrapped the second blanket around them, cocooning the four of them in.
The sky was already losing its inky color, the stars fading in the coming dawn. The pinks and oranges were just beginning to peek over the horizon.
“It's a new year, Britt. The sunrise will be in about seven minutes and I thought this was a good way to start our new life together. To maybe start a tradition? Ring in midnight, then watch the sunrise with our kids?”
Brittany looked at Santana like she hung the moon. “San,” her voice was quiet, a little rough with unshed tears. “You,” she shook her head, unable to voice her thoughts properly. “I love you. I love that you thought to do this.”
“I love you, too, Britt.” She leaned over and kissed Brittany softly. “Always.”
Santana settled her head against Brittany's shoulder and Brittany leaned her head against Santana's as the boys slept peacefully.
The Lopez-Pierce Family watched as the sun broke the horizon, the first dawn of the new year.
The first of many new years to come.