This was an idea that knocked around in my head and I played around with from not long after I Am Unicorn first aired, and especially after Santana's part in The First Time Ever I Saw Your Face.

Check me out, trying to make sense of canon. lol

Ah well, call it a sickness, but I wanted to fill in some of the gaps in a way that made sense to me and stayed as closely with canon as I could manage. It's one of the bits that's been waiting around my harddrive to be polished up and sent out, so here goes.

I'm just now really getting going on No Excuses so I thought the first new I'd throw out in the meantime would be something that's never been put up anywhere before. Better late than never, I guess? ;)

Hope you like it.

The first time I had sex with Brittany, I was drunk. Well, not so shitfaced I couldn't even remember it, obviously, but certainly blasted enough to not give a fuck about all the reasons I shouldn't be doing it. Or then again, maybe I wasn't really that drunk at all, but I knew that drinking gave me an excuse. Just like making out in front of boys neither one of us cared about. I was really, really good at coming up with excuses to get my mack on. No matter the reason we shouldn't be doing it, I could always come up with some explanation why we could.

But Brittany was right there with me, ready to go with whatever nonsensical explanation I came up with if it meant there would be acts of nakedness happening. Encouraging whatever excuses fell out of my mouth with wide eyes and enthusiastic nods of agreement. I think she believed it for the same reason she believed in Santa Claus. Because believing made things easier, it kept everything light. Like it was some kid's game that could be solved by wishing and fairy dust.

The first time I walked into her bedroom, filled with bright colors and random posters and a ridiculously huge cat, I couldn't help but fall a little bit in love with this girl. Even though we had just started high school and it should have been silly to see someone her age living like that, something to make fun of or roll my eyes about like I would have with anyone else. But there was just something about this girl who came trotting up to me on the first day of practice and asked me if it was true that we all had to bathe only in milk from now that we were Cheerios. Because if so then she was hoping we could share, since she'd been checking out the price of milk and it seemed really expensive.

I could only stare at her at first, with her wide eyes and solemn expression, trying to figure out how she could possibly be serious. Every logical instinct in my body told me I should roll my eyes and walk away, maybe with a good parting shot, but somehow I just couldn't. Because she was just so sweet and all I really knew was that it pissed me off that someone was messing with her head already. I asked her who told her that and when she pointed out a couple of juniors who were pointing right back at her and snickering. And so, okay they next day I just happened to be waiting for them outside the showers with a bucket full of milk. It somehow mysteriously got spilled all over their faces.

Well hey, accidents happen.

I never had to tell them why I did it, or not to mess with Brittany again. Everyone got the message pretty well.

It was also the thing that made Sue notice me for the first time. Our next practice Brittany and I were on the second level of the pyramid, with the two little milk maids right below us. I don't think the smirk left my face for a week. Though Sue did come up to me later on and told me to let her know if I needed any help learning English or getting a green card.

I'm not sure how much of what happened Brittany actually understood, but she stayed close to me after that. And that first time I walked into her room, my first thought was actually "God, it looks like the life sized version of Barbie's dream bedroom." My second though was, "I wonder how it would feel to live in this girl's world?" Because that's the thing about Brittany. Screw rose colored glasses, she's got, like, special 3D goggles that lets her see some kind of special, beautiful world that somehow exists right beside the mundane crapfest the rest of us reside in.

I think it's too easy for people to tune her out and not listen to what she's actually saying, just because she talks about cats and unicorns instead of more serious topics. But if you take the time to listen, you understand that in some ways maybe she sees things more clearly than any of us do. She's not bound by other people's perceptions or expectations and is free to see the truth about things that no one else would even think to look for.

It gives me hope. Because she sees something in me, and I want to believe she's right. Like this unicorn thing with Kurt, I know that in some way she's trying to prove something to me, to show me that even the out-est of out students can not only be accepted at this school, but actually be chosen by the masses. But I also know that she honestly believes that deep down people are afraid of the things that make them unique or different, and are just waiting for someone to be a champion for them, and she wants to give them that.

In that world she sees, people can be whoever they want and love is always beautiful and magical. And the version of me that lives there is like some kind of magical, misunderstood white knight or princess or something, riding to the rescue on a unicorn that's shitting rainbows. Or that's what she used to be, anyway. Maybe that's just who I hoped she was. The reality is that I probably belong in that world about as much as the Wicked Witch belonged in Oz. And not the one with the monkeys. The one creamed by the house, leaving nothing more than shiny shoes and shriveled up feet.

The look on her face when even Kurt freaked out over the idea of running on her unicorn platform broke my heart in ways that made me want to sneak into his room and swap out his moisturizer with Vagisil just to see the look on his face when I told him.

But then, I also knew that the unicorn Brittany was really thinking of when she was making those posters was me, and it's not like I would have reacted any better. Though since Prom last year, Britt has actually gone out of her way to not push or prod me directly to come out.

That didn't stop her from practically obsessing over all things gay for the past few months, though. I couldn't ever really decide if she was trying to figure something out about me, or herself, because it's not like I've got the nerve to actually ask her about it.

But from the No H8 signs to the metric ton of It Gets Better videos that she spent most of the summer spamming me with, it wasn't exactly a secret that she had taken an interest in the subject matter. Early in the summer, she would watch me really carefully for a few days after she had sent me something, when she didn't think I was paying attention, like she was waiting for me to freak out on her, or sometimes like I was some riddle she was trying to figure out.

You'd think I'd be used to her looking at me like that, though. She's been doing it pretty much from the beginning. I think it used to make me angry, when she saw things I wasn't ready to see in myself.

That first time we were together, I had gotten so turned on watching her dance at that party. It was the first time I had ever seen her really dance, hair wild, body loose and tipsy and moving to the beat like she was fucking the song itself. I didn't even know it was possible to want someone the way I wanted her that night, or how she seemed to sense it before I even had the conscious thought. I didn't know how it would make me feel when I was grinding my body against hers in the dark like sex was something created for the two of us in that moment. Or that when I looked into her eyes, I would be I was terrified of all the things she could see. Scared of the ways she was wrong. Petrified by the ways I knew deep down she was right.

Of course, then later when the hangover struck all I could worry about was who everyone else was going to see if they knew how much I loved having sex with my best friend. But every time we had sex after that, blind drunk or completely sober, there was a part of me that was afraid of looking into her eyes again. Afraid that I would see that same look again it would scare me just as much as it did the first time.

So no matter how much I want to, I know I won't punch Kurt right in his ladyface for crapping all over the glittery unicorn posters she worked really hard to make for him. Even though he has walked around town advertising himself as a special snowflake since before he started moisturizing, somehow when Britt decides she can prove that the whole school will embrace his rainbow tinted ass, suddenly it's a huge problem. Whatever. I should have let her go with her original design just for the fun of watching his face turn a lovely shade of lavender when he saw it. Although now that I'm thinking about it, I did take that picture of it for posterity. I have a feeling it might accidentally wind up on twitter at some point in the near future. Life's all about compromises.

"Hey Britt, hold up!"

Brittany struggles to juggle an armful of glittery posters so she can open the heavy doors that will take us out of this godforsaken school. I jog toward her, reaching around to hold open the door so she can maneuver the big stack of posters through the doorway. Her backpack is slung over one arm and half the posters are slipping toward the ground, she looked sad and frustrated. Two things I wish she would never, ever be.

We work together to juggle the posters toward the large metal trash bin, I chew at my lip and try to think of some way to take away the unhappy, wistful look on her face as she looks at her glittery creations one last time before heaving them over the edge of the bin. She brushes her hands together, trying to dust off the last glittery remnants that stayed behind like fairy dust, waiting for a wish to bring it to life.

"I'm sorry." She pouts again. "You spent all that time helping me make those."

I smile and reach out to take one of her hands, succeeding more in spreading the glitter around and onto me than in actually helping get rid of it.

"Hey, I'm not. I had fun." It was the truth. The night spent with markers, a glue gun and glitter had actually been wonderful. It was a great distraction from getting caught in the middle of Sue and Shue's little pissing contest. I miss Glee, more than I really want to admit. But I'm pretty sure it doesn't miss me. Oh well, at least I'm not back on the bottom of the pyramid, too. And I have the power to make sure Britt isn't either.

She looks at me like she doesn't believe me at all, though, and I laugh a little, because I can't really blame her.

"Come on, then. Forget about all this. Do you have any other.. rehearsals or anything?" I didn't really want to ask her about Glee, because that wasn't going to help the mood at all. She shakes her head, looking like she wants to say something more. I'm a little surprised she hadn't asked me about coming back yet. I figure she's been trying to give me time to cool down. Really, I never gotten all that angry about it. Only a little bit at myself, because I let myself believe I really belonged there, when I should have known better.

But this wasn't about feeling sorry for myself. Britt was hurting and that made me hurt too, and that just wouldn't do.

"Well then, come on. What do you say we go eat something coach would never approve of and act like irresponsible teenagers for a while?"

She smiles at that and wraps an arm around mine as we head to my car, giddy at the thought of burgers and milkshakes. But she stops suddenly, pouting again.

"I didn't bring my wallet today since I didn't have to drive."

I shake my head and grin. "That's cool Britt, my treat." I tug her forward by our linked arms and she gives me that look again, like she's seeing something I haven't figured out yet. I try my best to ignore the worry that pools in the pit of my stomach because of it as I unlock my car door as we get close but then move forward to open the door for her anyway.

I'm not as slow on the uptake as I used to be, though. It takes me all of fifteen minutes to figure out what that look was about. It's not until we're standing in line, giving our order to the pimply kid behind the register and I reach for my own wallet that it hits me, because there's a pervy glimmer in his beady little eyes that lets me know what this looks like. He thinks we're on a date. I hate the cold stab of fear that shoots down my spine, making my whole body stiffen. I'm giving him an angry glare before I even think about it and he blinks and skitters off to get our food.

Brittany leans a little bit away from me, looking down at her feet and then suddenly I'm ashamed of myself all over again. Why would it be so bad for him to think we're together? Isn't that what I want more than anything? If I can't acknowledge that in the eyes of some little nobody squirt I don't give any sort of a damn about, how am I ever going to learn to do it in front of the people who really do matter to me?

I take a hard gulp and force myself to meet his eyes again when he gingerly settles our food on the tray in front of us. I give him a tight, but genuine, smile and he blinks again, returning it tentatively. I hand Britt our cups and head to a free booth.

I know it's paranoia that makes me feel like everyone is watching me. I keep my head down anyway.

When she slides smoothly into the seat across from me, I can't bring myself to glance up at her, knowing she will see the panic in my eyes. I squirm in my seat slightly, the hard plastic feels like cement under my ass and I can't get comfortable at all. I shovel a few fries into my mouth, hoping for a quick carb coma to put me out of my misery.

I jump slightly at first when I feel it. Her foot is sliding along my shin slightly, subtly. No one who wasn't crawling under the table would see it and even someone who did wouldn't think anything of it.

But I do. It sends a warm shiver up my leg and I look up at her before I can help myself. I see the small smile dancing around her lips and suddenly I feel myself relax a little bit. Her smile grows into a grin, one that reaches all the way to her eyes and it warms away that shiver that had been racing up and down my body. What does it matter, really, who else is looking at me or what they think when she looks at me like that? It shouldn't matter at all, and I don't want it to.

Still, as we eat I keep my eyes on hers, or on our food, trying my best not to feel like the eyes of the whole restaurant are on my back.

"When are you going to audition?" Brittany asks suddenly, and I know she's trying to distract me because I blink twice and stare at her blankly. "For the play, you totally have to try out."

My brow creases a little bit. "Why would I do that?"

"Well, duh, because you can't be in the play unless you do." She slurps her milkshake, secure in her logic. I frown at her but she ignores it. "I heard some of the guys talking about it and there are like sharks in it, isn't that cool? I wonder if that means it'll be in a big tank or something. I wonder how they would get it onto the stage? Do you think people can actually sing underwater? Would it, like, be in bubbles that would burst open so you could hear them? That would be so cool! I wonder if Kurt is upset because wants to be a shark, although I don't know if that means they would have to make it a dolphin…"

I can't help the laugh that bubbles up, or the look in her eyes that lets me know she's teasing with me.

"The Sharks are the name of a gang, Britt. Not actual sharks."

She pouts her lip out and I stare at it for a moment longer than I should.

"You should still try out, because you'd make a super awesome land shark anyway. Mercedes said there was a part they already made you shoes for!"

I puzzle that one in my brain for a moment before it hits me, someone must have said I'd be a shoe in. Well, I guess it's not like they are wrong. Still, the thought of stepping up in front of people asking for a part feels too much like begging right now and I'm not sure I'm ready for that. She must see it, because her lip pouts out even further.

"Come on, please? We can work on it together so we're can be sure we're not trying out for the same part or anything."

"I'm pretty sure we wouldn't be up for the same part, Britt."

She tilts her head curiously, "Do you know what part your shoes are for?"

I shake my head, smiling despite myself. "West Side Story is my mother's all-time favorite movie. I have probably been forced to watch it more times than you have seen Finding Nemo." Her eyes get really big and then I can almost see them glaze over as her mind starts wandering.

"Hey if there are sharks, does that mean there are whales in it too? Because I can totally speak whale!"

This time I laugh out loud.

Before I can figure out exactly how it happened, Brittany and I are in my room, my mother's well-loved DVD of West Side Story loaded up and ready to go. I bought Brittany an arm full of candy at the gas station and she's got all laid out in front of her, carefully organized in some way I would not even want to try and figure out. Brittany is plopped on her stomach, legs dangling in the air and her white socks occasionally brushing against my arm.

I try very, very hard to not just sit there and stare at her ass and the peeks of it I get through the flaps of her skirt, and find myself failing miserably. I almost feel bad perving on her like this. Almost.

I shake my head and reach for my nail file, happy for somewhere less maddening to focus my attention. I could recite the lines in my sleep anyway. I worry a little bit how she's going to take the star crossed ending, but can't figure out a good way to warn her.

When the dance in the gym begins, she pops up and starts dancing along with them, copying the moves exactly without the slightest effort. "I can totally Mambo!"

"You should do that for your audition." I say quietly. She spins, kicks, picking up each move almost as it appears in front of her.

"Which one is your part?" She asks, watching the screen intently.

"The girl in purple." I say, focusing my attention back on my nails. "That's Anita."

"Cool. You should do this with me, it's a two person dance." I shake my head and she rolls her eyes, giggling at me.

I shift uncomfortably when the screen blurs until only two of them exist, staring at each other in a crowded room. I think of that party, watching her dance for the first time, the rest of the world blurring away from me as I watched her move. She stops and watches too, and in that moment I want nothing more and nothing less than to know what she is thinking.

They start to move toward each other and I remember that night, the look on her face when she turned to find me watching her. I wish I had been more like them, meeting her in the middle. But she crossed the distance between us all by herself, a dark, curious heat filling her eyes when she stood in front of me.

I told myself it was the alcohol that heated up my blood, even though I knew it was a lie. I could feel her breath on my face as we stared at each other, she didn't look away until I licked at my suddenly dry lips and her eyes dropped down to follow the motion of my tongue, then drifted lower, staring at my body like she was really looking at me for the first time. My body responded like I could feel her eyes brushing over it, breasts tingling, heat flooding between my legs in a way that I had never experienced before in my whole life.

On the screen, they lean toward each other, then drift away. I remember the way I swayed, fighting against the urge to lean forward and kiss her. Their arms lift and they begin to dance, crossing in front of each other, each time hopelessly drawn back together.

"Come on, this is cool! Do that time warp thing with the movie so we can do it together!"

I blink at her for a long moment, wondering what it would feel like to stand in front of her, in this dance that represents endless, hopeless love at first sight. A few dozen objections are on the tip of my tongue, and she blithely ignores every one of them as she yanks me to my feet in front of her. My arms are then lifted carefully into position, she studies the screen carefully for a moment before placing herself directly in front of me, pausing a moment to wait for the beat, just as Tony and Maria find themselves face to face again, ready to move together.

There's nowhere to look but in her eyes, and my heart races. We glide and spin, my body moving without really thinking, following steps I know by heart. We twist and snap our fingers, her eyes break away from the screen completely, moving to my face and staying there. I see that dark, curious look starting to glimmer in her eyes again and it sends a shockwave through my body. My arms slowly drop to my sides. Brittany's body mirrors mine and we sway slightly toward each other again.

The music on the screen changes, the gym comes back to life and it feels like it jerks me out of a dream. I blink and shake my head, like I'm clearing away a trance, I scoot back onto the bed and grab my nail file again, clearing my throat.

She stands there for a long moment, watching me before slowly moving back to the bed again. She kneels on the edge for a long moment, like she's daring me to look at her. I feel my hands start to tremble as I try very hard to keep filing. I don't know what I'm doing, or why I'm so scared.

When Brittany moves, it's closer to me and I my breath catches, but she leans over onto her side, her head drifts down until it's pillowed against my thigh. She takes a deep breath, turning her attention back to the movie without a word. I've never felt more like a coward in my whole life.

I try for a few more minutes to concentrate on my nails, but before long everything else fades away and there is only Brittany's soft blonde hair brushing against my thigh, the warm weight of her cheek pressed against my sensitive skin, and the goosebumps that pop up with every breath that puffs out over that ticklish spot beside my knee.

"Santana?"

"Yeah?" I hate how shaky my voice sounds.

"Why don't you want to audition?"

I gulp, closing my eyes and taking a deep breath. Excuses pop in and out of my head like bubbles bursting, but when I open my mouth all that comes out is a quick sigh and then the truth, "It's not like anyone's going to pick me anyway, Britt."

She pushes herself up and turns toward me. "I told you, even Mercedes and Rachel think your shoes are already in. Why wouldn't they pick you?"

I chuckle sadly, "Why would they? It doesn't matter if I'm right or wrong for the part, I'm.. I'm not the person people choose Brittany. There's just.. there's always a reason why someone else is better. There's always a reason why I don't belong, and… nothing good happens whenever I let myself forget that."

I'm staring at my lap now so hard I feel like the room is growing dark around me. I wait for her to say something, but nothing comes.

"And you can say all you want it's because I hide things about myself or whatever, but I think it's really that people just don't like me. Even if I try, I mean really try, I'm always going to be the one that doesn't matter. The one it's okay to throw away."

I feel her shift and before I know it, she's straddling my lap, her hands pulling my face up to look at her.

"You know that's not true."

Blinking, my vision blurs with my tears, because I really don't. I know that I spent two years alongside every person in that club and I'm the one Shue can throw away to make a point. And I know now that not one person, not even the one looking down at me so seriously, like what I'm saying is so crazy, would voice the slightest objection.

I don't say it, I think maybe I don't have to. Her mouth opens and closes a few times, like she's trying to find a way to prove me wrong.

In the end I save her the trouble.

"I'm just tired, Brittany," I sniff, with a slight shrug, patting her thighs gently. "And besides, I'm going to need to save up my time and energy for something else."

"For what?" She looks so sad, and I just can't stand to see that anymore.

"A presidential campaign." My lips twitch into a smile. I wanted to wait until I could do some planning, but we desperately need something positive to focus on.

"You're running for president, too?" Her brow dips down low and her head tilts to the side.

I chuckle softly. "No, you are."

Her mouth opens and I put up two fingers to close it.

"And you're going to win." My fingers pull away, because that's the kind of distraction that will only get me in trouble here. "Because there is nothing you set your mind to that you can't accomplish."

The lip pouts again slightly, "I don't know, my time machine isn't coming along very well. Do you know how hard it is to order uranium online?"

I laugh, because I can't really help myself, and drop my head against her shoulder. "No, I don't, but I think it would be better to worry about things happening in the here and now. And if you think the school needs a unicorn, then we'll give them the most awesome one they've ever seen."

She chews her lip and looks up at me through her long lashes, "Kurt's way more unicorn than me."

"You have something he will never have, Britt. You have this ability to see the best in people and see what they can be and that's why you would make a way better president than him. You can look around and see past all the posing and the faking and really get people for who they are. And that's why you're going to win, because you can do anything you set your mind to."

"Anything?"

"Anything."

"Can I get you to audition for the musical?" I sigh, because I should have seen that coming, "And then come with me to talk to Mr. Shue about coming back to the Glee Club."

My eyes close, my head drops back against my headboard. "Brittany…"

"You say I can see people, right? What happened with Mr. Shue wasn't even about you," she licks her lips, shuffling up on her knees a little bit, her voice rising, "he's totally trying to prove his manliness or something. I mean, you can actually see him puff out his chest whenever he walks by Ms. Pillsbury's office and stuff. And with the pianos and stuff, he was like a cat trying to spray all over the school to prove he owns it and when you burned the piano, it was like kicking him in the metaphor or something. So just, like, say you're sorry and you really love the Glee Club and you can come back." She throws her arms up in a shrug to show it's just that simple.

I take a minute, trying to wrap my brain around the somewhat disturbing image of Mr. Shue spraying all over the school.

"People do want you back. I mean, I don't think anyone else is even audition for your role in the play because they all want you to play it. Rachel and Mercedes would rather fight with each other over a part then try to take yours. And I think that.. in the club…" she chews her lip, "everyone… was just really surprised because it happened so fast and it's not like Mr. Shue to do something like that. And they all know that you're always so strong and everything that it's easy to forget that sometimes you get sad and that you need someone to protect you too. And it should be Mr. Shue and Coach Sue protecting you instead batting you back and forth like a squeaky toy they like to chew on, but if it's not them then.. I'll run for president and I'll win and I'll be able to do it."

She's panting a little when she finishes, and I'm not sure she even took a breath through most of her speech. I stare up at her, trying to figure out whether she actually had all that planned out, or if it just came to her in a flash of insight.

"Sometimes…" Brittany settles down against my lap again, one hand reaching down to toy gently with the edge of my top, "sometimes people just get so caught up in their own stuff that they don't really see how other people get caught up in it too, or how it's hurting them because you have to step back to see that. And then by the time you do, then it's already done and it's too late and there's no way to really make it right, so people are scared to even try. Because then what if it's even worse, or what if it's too late?" Her eyes flash with something like guilt for a moment before she shakes her head, "But you shouldn't let Mr. Shue and Coach Sue's stuff mess up your senior year and keep you from doing what you want to do, and I know you love the Glee Club and they don't deserve to be able to take that from you. Like you said to Quinn, screw them. It's about us."

I'm almost dizzy from trying to follow her through the layers and levels of what she's saying to me. All I know for sure is that if she ever did really decide to get into politics, I'm pretty sure she could change the world.

And God help us all if she ever managed to get that time machine working.

I also don't really think she was just talking about the election or me getting tossed out of Glee on my ass. But I wouldn't touch that topic with a ten foot pole covered in uranium.

"You know what, Britt?" She looks up at me cautiously, her eyes running all over my face like she's trying to read my answer before I can say it. "None of those stupid boys stand a chance against you."

The smile that breaks out across her face could light up the darkest place in the world. And I would know.

"You mean it?" She asks quietly, like she's afraid to hope.

"Well," I sigh, rolling my eyes a little dramatically, "you drive a hard bargain. But if putting up with Mr. Shue's piano envy is what I have to do to get this school the best president it will ever have, then I guess that's what I need to do."

Britt squeals and bounces excitedly on my lap, which is entirely distracting. And then, before I know what's happening, she's kissing me.

Not just like a little peck, but a full on let's see if you've had anything interesting to eat in the past 24 hours kind of kiss.

We haven't done this, like really done this, for such a long time now I don't even know how to respond at first. I feel like this is the wrong order. I don't even know what it means, and I'm not sure I can stand the idea of us just going back to being fuck buddies again. But then, who the fuck am I kidding? Brittany is kissing me. The only possible response to that is to kiss her back.

But by the time I have my arms wrapped around her waist, pulling her into me all I really know is that this feels so very different. Different from what we've done before, not even comparable to anyone else. It's like there's been some sort of wall between us before (and yes, thank you, I am aware that most of that came from me) that is just gone now. There is only Brittany's touch, Brittany's smell, the way her lips feel desperate and insistent against mine. I'm not sure I realized before now that it wasn't just me holding back before, something is different with Brittany now, too.

She's pawing at the zipper to my top before I can even register what is happening, yanking at the zipper like she's so excited she can't even remember how the damn thing works. I twist around to help before she shreds the thing and I have to worry about what Sue will do to me if I have to replace it. Four impatient, clumsy hands finally manage to get it open and she pretty much just yanks it over my head and goes right for my boobs like a kid descending on a bucket of Halloween candy or something. I groan, and don't even really know how she gets my bra off so quickly, though I think I heard a ripping noise and have to just chalk it up to a casualty of the moment.

Apparently unhappy with the way she's got to stoop over to get at them, Brittany grabs my hips and jerks me further down the bed, until I'm on my back, staring up at her hungry expression with wide eyes. I mean.. just.. holy crap.

She shifts, tongue burying itself inside my mouth again while her hands are busily reacquainting themselves with the twins, squeezing and palming my suddenly painfully hard nipples with a groan that I can almost taste. I'm still dazed by the time she shuffles down and does her best to just devour my boobs one at a time. I arch into her, half-delirious with sensations that are familiar but feelings that are brand new.

I realize that we really never have done this before. We've had plenty of sex, in plenty of ways (and I do have a few favorites), but what's different now is that this is about much more than just feeling good, or getting off. This is a connection, our bodies just the canvas we're using to try and express how we feel about each other.

By the time I've managed the coherent thought to try and get her clothes off too, Brittany has my skirt unzipped and nearly bends me in half in her determination to get rid of everything else keeping her from touching me. My legs fall on either side of her body and she wastes no time pressing herself in between my legs while her restless hands keep doing their best to rediscover every inch of my skin and her mouth goes for the sensitive skin of my neck.

"Brittany," I gasp, clutching at her, "oh my god." I want to feel her soft hair between my fingers and quickly pull out the tie keeping it bound up in her ever-present pony tail, sighing when I feel the silky texture fall over my hands. "Brittany," I say again, just because I can, as my hands cradle her head and urge her back up toward my face. She leans in for a kiss, but I hold her back for a moment, just relishing the chance to look into her eyes. I lean up, kissing her softly instead as she stares down at me like I'm something wonderful.

My hips shift against her, more turned on than I've ever been, and I wonder if she realizes that. Our kisses are softer now, her hands gliding over my skin rather than groping like she's afraid I'm going to vanish from under her at any second. One hand finds its way between my legs and I shudder almost violently, shifting my legs open wider to offer her any part of me she wants to take. She pulls back, looking down into my eyes when she finds out just how wet I really am. I hold her eyes, doing my best to hold every part of myself open to her now.

We both know this is what I would never allow before, what I would lash out at the mere suggestion of, and I want her to know that even though I can't change the past I am trying to get it right now. I think maybe there's a part of her that's trying to tell me the same thing.

I gasp and whimper when I feel one finger slide tentatively inside of me, fighting hard to not lose focus and look away. I want to let her look, to let her see, as deeply into me as she wants. Anything she wants.

She stares down at me, hair falling like a curtain around her face as she takes in every tiny movement in mine when one finger becomes two. And when they start moving deeply, purposefully, inside of me, she watches me greedily as I start to fall apart in an embarrassingly short period of time.

Hey, it's been a while, okay?

"Oh god, Britt, don't stop. Please," I don't know why I'm begging, back arching slightly off the bed, other than that fear I can't seem to stop that makes me feel like this is too much, like it can't possibly be real. "Please… don't ever stop."

She shakes her head, eyes never wavering from mine, answering me silently that she will never stop.

My mouth drops open, my breath coming in harsh, rapid gasps as I struggle not to close my eyes, but eventually I can't control the way they roll back, my body completely overwhelmed as she pushes me higher than I've ever been in my life.

I moan almost deliriously, eyes fluttering shut despite my best attempts at control, "God Britt please.." I nearly sob, "it's been so long… please…"

"How long?" I feel her breath on my cheek. She's paused for a moment as I blink up at her.

"What?"

"How long has it been?" She's staring again, looking for something but I can only furrow my brow and stare back.

"Don't…" I pant softly, "..don't you remember?"

She frowns down at me in confusion. Until finally she understands what I can't find the words for. She understands that I haven't been with anyone else since I was with her.

"Told you," I whimper, shivering as her fingers still for a moment, "told you.." I gulp, "I only wanted you."

It's Brittany who closes her eyes then, and I'm terrified for a moment that I've done something wrong, as she leans down and presses her face into my neck. But before I can think of a way to ask, she rears back and thrusts into me again, much harder than before. I cry out much louder than I mean to, and I'm suddenly very glad my parents are never home because I know there's no way I can control myself anymore. She pumps into me again and again and my body rushes back toward the peak I nearly reached a few moments before.

"I.." I clutch at her back, her hair, anything I can feel, "love you, Britt. Love.. you."

She slams into me so hard it's a little painful, but it only pushes me higher as she moves feverishly above me now. I feel her hot breath paint over the skin of my neck, tears sliding from my eyes as she winds me up higher and higher until my body bows up for an endless moment and then it all explodes inside of me with a scream I couldn't control if I tried.

I collapse back onto the bed with Brittany's face still buried in my neck, her own breathing heavy and erratic.

My arms feel weak as I try to lift them around her back again, upset at the fabric that keeps me from touching her skin. I move them back up to tangle in her hair, pulling her head back so I can look at her again. There are tears in the corner of her eyes.

I wait for a second for her to say something, and then panic a little bit when I'm worried about what it would be. Before I can overthink anything, I kiss her again, my body still sloppy and uncoordinated, but I make a clumsy attempt to turn us over, until she's on her back and I'm hovering unsteadily over her. I paint kisses over her lips and her face, letting myself get lost in the taste of her again, letting myself appreciate it in a way I never would have allowed before. I nuzzle and slide my tongue down her jaw, over her neck, down to her shoulder as I slide her out of her clothes with as much grace as I'm capable of at the moment, which is to say not a lot.

I want her to say it back, I want it so bad I'm aching for it. But that's not really the point for me right now. This is my chance to start to make her understand what I feel for her, honestly, with no bullshit excuses or insecurities to get in the way. I don't want anything in the way right now. This isn't the first time I've touched her, but it is the first time I'm making love to her, and I want her to understand that I know what the difference is now.

Before long, I've got an expanse of pale skin in front of me. I take it all in. The way a pink flush covers the top of her chest as she pants, every little mark and mole, I dedicate myself to a sudden obsessive need to touch and taste every piece of her skin that I can. I kiss over her shoulder and down her arms, sucking gently on her fingers in a way that makes her squirm. I slide up to nuzzle into the bend of her elbow and then over her slightly ticklish ribs. Up over her chest and collarbone, down past her hips, her long, muscled legs.

My lips slide over every inch, seeking out ever sensitive spot, taking everything in as she gasps and writhes beneath me until I settle myself comfortably between her legs, nuzzling into the heady scent waits for me there. She groans louder, because yeah, no matter how many times I've done this before, it never felt like this. I would never have let myself really enjoy it, or admit how much it turns me on to feel myself surrounded by the smell and taste of her excitement.

I lick at her slowly, savoring everything about it. Every little detail. The hot, liquid flesh under my tongue is swollen and so responsive even the slightest graze makes her twitch and moan even louder. Her fingers slide over my head, cradling me into her while her other hand pats around, searching for contact. I slide my own hand up to tangle our fingers together, clutching at her firmly and using the leverage to help my mouth find a rhythm against her. Her cries are getting louder and higher as her hips thrust up helplessly. My free hand slides down so I can glide two fingers into her, still licking firmly and she sobs above me, grasping my fingers so hard it fucking hurts and I don't even care a little bit. Because her thighs are trembling rapidly on either side of my face as she starts to lose control, and it's the hottest fucking thing I've ever seen in my whole life. I don't move faster, or harder, nothing to rush it along because I want this to last as long as it can.

Brittany's so far beyond turned on now, my thrusts inside of her making rude, wet noises and I feel like I'm covered in the evidence of how good I can make her feel. I want to dive even deeper inside, swim in it, stay in this moment forever.

But her moment comes so fast and hard it seems to take us both by surprise. She jerks with an almost painful sounding gasp and her body clamps down around me so tightly I couldn't move if I wanted to. And really, I don't. All I want to do is continue to lick at her softly, almost more for my own enjoyment than for hers, my own hips jerking against the bed. Soon enough she seems to be climbing again and so I keep going as gently and patiently as I can until my self-control suddenly runs out and I move up press my forehead against her belly and start pumping into her quickly, fingers twisting and reaching until she comes again and again while I take in every sound and jerk of her body greedily. I only stop when she finally falls limply to the bed, eyes fluttering like she's barely holding onto consciousness.

I smile, panting against her skin and I feel her giggle slightly. I find myself giggling too. Even though my own wetness is coating my thighs, I'm way too sated to even care. I think I might have come again just from being able to feel her lose herself so completely. I don't think I've ever been this happy before in my whole life. I feel tears threatening to come and try my best to push them away.

I crawl back up her body, laying half on top of her, until our chests are pressed together, my heart pounding rapidly against her like it's trying to match the pace of hers.

I'm not entirely sure what this means for us, or where we are going to go from here since I'm still not ready to give her everything she deserves once we're outside of these walls. I'm not ready to be someone who doesn't think a few times more than twice about every gesture I make in front of other people. Or worry about what they think when they look at me, what they say when my back is turned.

But I am trying, really trying, for the first time.

Maybe, for now, that is enough.

She hums happily, fingers sliding gently over my back. This is something else we've never done before. The after sex naked cuddling was always too much. I had to get up and get some clothes on. Get some kind of distance before I let myself fall back into her arms again. Give myself time to push at least a few of those walls back into place.

Right now though, most of the wall and defense I have might as well be lying in ruins around us. We just bulldozed through them without looking back and for once, I feel like there really is nothing between us. Nothing but the sound of her heart pounding under my ear, and the gentle strength that radiates from her touch.

It's warm and soothing, and for the first time I don't try to stop myself from falling into it completely.