Word Count: ~560
Summary: She wasn't expecting that.
Disclaimer: Don't own, don't sue. Or whatever.
Notes: So, this came out of nowhere and it's the first thing I've written (and finished) for this fandom. Thanks again to novel_concept26 for reading this and telling me to post it, because otherwise it probably wouldn't have seen the light of day.
"C'mon San, swing with me!"
Brittany’s swing screeches as she propels herself higher and faster, blowing by Santana, slouched and stationary in the swing next to her.
"I don't wanna."
She does, actually, but they’re getting ready to start their freshman year of high school and she feels like maybe she’s supposed to stop enjoying things like swinging and spending lazy Sundays at the park. Brittany obviously feels no such pressure, but Santana kind of likes it that way.
"Why not? Swinging's your favorite."
That gets a small smile and a laugh out of Santana as she turns her head just in time to see a mess of blonde hair fly by her face as Brittany continues to swing.
"No, swinging's your favorite, Britt."
Brittany jumps out at the highest point of her next swing and lands lightly on her feet. She has always been as graceful as a cat and Santana has always been envious. Her empty swing slowly rattles to a stop and leaves them in comfortable silence for a few seconds.
"Billy Tratt kissed me today," she says as she makes her way around the swing set until she's standing directly behind Santana. She feels Brittany grip the chains near her head, but Santana says nothing. She doesn’t want to think about some dumb boy kissing Brittany because Santana thinks she might be falling in love with her best friend and she’s just too scared to admit it. Nobody falls in love when they’re this young anyway, she reasons, so it doesn’t even matter. Still, she doesn’t want to think about how Brittany kissed her a week ago on the porch swing at Matt Rutherford’s birthday party, doesn’t want think about the fact that it had been the first time either of them had kissed anyone, ever, and how now Brittany was off kissing someone else. She doesn't want to hear about stupid Billy and his stupid glasses and his stupid cute boy smile. She doesn't want to swing, either, but Brittany is gently pulling and pushing her and humming the melody to a song Santana knows she only sings when she's deep in thought.
"I didn't like it."
She wasn't expecting that.
Brittany gives her one last push before stepping off to the side and leaning against the one of the poles. "He's cute, but it didn't feel right," she says, her eyes following Santana as she swings higher and higher. Santana feels something in her chest soar even higher and she is suddenly struck with the urge to jump out and fly through the air like Brittany always does, but she can't. She has never been quite as brave and graceful as her best friend, so instead she slows herself down until she's just barely swaying back and forth and twists her swing around to face a smiling Brittany.
"I thought you said swinging wasn't your favorite."
Santana’s fairly sure Brittany knows that the real reason she looks so happy right now doesn’t have much to do with this creaky old swing set at all, but she feels the need to make it as clear as possible. She’s not exactly ready to spill her little secret just yet, but Santana has a feeling Brittany will understand anyway.
"It's not. You're my favorite, Britt."
Brittany's smile widens and her eyes turn soft.
"You're my favorite, too."