storypaint (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
storypaint) wrote2011-05-31 10:54 pm
storypaint) wrote2011-05-31 10:54 pm
[Glee] waste her whole heart (Brittany/Santana)
Title: waste her whole heart
Fandom: Glee
Length: 530 words
Prompt: fic_promptly: Glee, Brittany/Santana, First kiss
Pairing: Brittany/Santana
Other: PG with warnings for GBLT slurs.
Excerpt: They're twelve when they kiss for the first time, guests at a sleepover playing Truth or Dare. It's nothing then, or so Santana says, even when something in her stirs, deep down, when she touches Brittany's lips.
They're twelve when they kiss for the first time, guests at a sleepover playing Truth or Dare. It's nothing then, or so Santana says, even when something in her stirs, deep down, when she touches Brittany's lips.
The moment is gone quickly. Someone else is dared to a prank phone call and they're all giggling. Santana adjusts her ponytail and fights butterflies and the very edge of an idea, the idea that she might be different. That can't happen. She's on the fast track to Sue Sylvester's Cheerio squad and cheerleaders don't kiss each other. (Yes, she's seen that stupid movie. So what, it was a movie.)
Brittany keeps glancing over at her and smiling. Finally Santana snaps.
"What do you want, lesbo?"
Brittany's forehead wrinkles a little. "I'm not a sauce," she says. It's Santana's turn to pause, until she figures out what Brittany means.
"Not Fresno. Never mind. What's the staring for?"
The rest of the party-goers have paused to watch, shameless. Santana beat up an eighth-grader last week for trying to see up her skirt. Brittany doesn't have a chance.
"I've never kissed anyone before," Brittany admits. "Does that mean I have to marry you?"
It's almost cute. It's also kind of terrible that this girl has gotten this far in school without understanding any of the basics of life. Santana decides that she will be Mother Teresa. She will selflessly educate Brittany. Maybe she'll get a minion out of the deal. She's just found out what the word means, and she wants one.
"Girls marry boys," she says. "It just means I get to be your best friend."
"Lesbos," Katie Paulsen mumbles, and Santana lands a punch that almost breaks the girl's nose. In the commotion that ensues afterwards, Santana and Brittany are told to wait on the curb for their mothers. Santana doesn't care. The party was boring anyway.
Brittany sits down next to her, too close, and she doesn't seem at all ruffled by the commotion.
"I've never had a best friend either," Brittany confides. Santana hasn't either. She mostly has enemies and people who aren't enemies yet. She doesn't allow herself to be vulnerable. She doesn't say that, though.
"It's your lucky day then," she says, holding out her hand. "I'm Santana."
Brittany doesn't seem to know what to do with the gesture. She takes Santana's hand and laces their fingers together. Santana's arm is crossed against her chest uncomfortably, but Brittany is smiling again.
"I'm Brittany," she says. "I guess I should have said that before I kissed you."
Santana shrugs. "It's all good," she says. They sit there and don't talk about much of anything until Brittany's mother shows up. Brittany gets up, with a flare of skirts, and Santana feels that hot, interested feeling again.
"I'll see you at school!" Brittany says, and waves. Santana waves back, just a little.
Tomorrow, she decides, she needs to find a boy to kiss and compare. She can decide where to go from there.
(Tomorrow, Brittany finds her in the hallway and gives her a friendship bracelet, and Santana kisses Noah Puckerman for the first time. One of these things is way better than the other.)
Fandom: Glee
Length: 530 words
Prompt: fic_promptly: Glee, Brittany/Santana, First kiss
Pairing: Brittany/Santana
Other: PG with warnings for GBLT slurs.
Excerpt: They're twelve when they kiss for the first time, guests at a sleepover playing Truth or Dare. It's nothing then, or so Santana says, even when something in her stirs, deep down, when she touches Brittany's lips.
They're twelve when they kiss for the first time, guests at a sleepover playing Truth or Dare. It's nothing then, or so Santana says, even when something in her stirs, deep down, when she touches Brittany's lips.
The moment is gone quickly. Someone else is dared to a prank phone call and they're all giggling. Santana adjusts her ponytail and fights butterflies and the very edge of an idea, the idea that she might be different. That can't happen. She's on the fast track to Sue Sylvester's Cheerio squad and cheerleaders don't kiss each other. (Yes, she's seen that stupid movie. So what, it was a movie.)
Brittany keeps glancing over at her and smiling. Finally Santana snaps.
"What do you want, lesbo?"
Brittany's forehead wrinkles a little. "I'm not a sauce," she says. It's Santana's turn to pause, until she figures out what Brittany means.
"Not Fresno. Never mind. What's the staring for?"
The rest of the party-goers have paused to watch, shameless. Santana beat up an eighth-grader last week for trying to see up her skirt. Brittany doesn't have a chance.
"I've never kissed anyone before," Brittany admits. "Does that mean I have to marry you?"
It's almost cute. It's also kind of terrible that this girl has gotten this far in school without understanding any of the basics of life. Santana decides that she will be Mother Teresa. She will selflessly educate Brittany. Maybe she'll get a minion out of the deal. She's just found out what the word means, and she wants one.
"Girls marry boys," she says. "It just means I get to be your best friend."
"Lesbos," Katie Paulsen mumbles, and Santana lands a punch that almost breaks the girl's nose. In the commotion that ensues afterwards, Santana and Brittany are told to wait on the curb for their mothers. Santana doesn't care. The party was boring anyway.
Brittany sits down next to her, too close, and she doesn't seem at all ruffled by the commotion.
"I've never had a best friend either," Brittany confides. Santana hasn't either. She mostly has enemies and people who aren't enemies yet. She doesn't allow herself to be vulnerable. She doesn't say that, though.
"It's your lucky day then," she says, holding out her hand. "I'm Santana."
Brittany doesn't seem to know what to do with the gesture. She takes Santana's hand and laces their fingers together. Santana's arm is crossed against her chest uncomfortably, but Brittany is smiling again.
"I'm Brittany," she says. "I guess I should have said that before I kissed you."
Santana shrugs. "It's all good," she says. They sit there and don't talk about much of anything until Brittany's mother shows up. Brittany gets up, with a flare of skirts, and Santana feels that hot, interested feeling again.
"I'll see you at school!" Brittany says, and waves. Santana waves back, just a little.
Tomorrow, she decides, she needs to find a boy to kiss and compare. She can decide where to go from there.
(Tomorrow, Brittany finds her in the hallway and gives her a friendship bracelet, and Santana kisses Noah Puckerman for the first time. One of these things is way better than the other.)