Work Text:
Just as Brittany scrunches up her nose, Santana is quick to hand her an aloe-infused tissue.
“Dank you,” Brittany mumbles, sniffling.
Santana pouts. She hates seeing her best friend sick. Britt is always a ball of energy so to have her feeling so lethargic and blegh, she really wishes she can do something to at least cheer her up.
“You don’ hath to day here,” Brittany continues, just before convulsing into a coughing fit.
“Not a chance, Britt-Britt. You’re my best friend. Taking care of you totally comes with the job description.”
“But Quinn ith aldo your bedth friend.”
Santana frowns for a brief moment. “Quinn and I tolerate each other for mutual benefit. You are my best friend, Britt.”
She doesn’t think it’s possible for a sick person to look so goddamn gorgeous, but when Brittany smiles her big smile, it just makes Santana melt.
“But, you know, just don’t go blabbing to the whole squad that I actually have a heart,” she quickly adds.
Brittany’s smile dims, but only a fraction. “Od courth not, sibby. I don’ wan’ oder gir’s steawing you away.”
Santana bites her lip. “No one could steal me from you, Britt.” Before she thinks about what she’s doing or why, she leans forward and presses a kiss against Brittany’s forehead.
“Britt, you’re so hot,” she murmurs, pressing the back of her hand against Brittany’s cheek.
“You’re hodder,” Britt replies with a goofy smile.
Santana chuckles before getting up off the couch that they’ve commandeered ever since they came home from school for winter break. “I’m going to make you some hot chocolate.”
“Wid marshmaddowth?” Brittany asks, her blue eyes sparkling.
Santana is lost in those eyes for a moment, but quickly reminds herself that she can’t think of Brittany like that. They’re best friends. The best of best friends. Sure, Britt’s super hot and has crazy sexy dance skills, but she’s a cheerleader and cheerleaders date jocks. Which is why she’s meant to head over to Puck’s later.
She puts the kettle on and walks to the fridge to get the milk. She pours half of it into Brittany’s favourite duck mug. She adds two heaped spoons of hot chocolate to the milk and stirs it rapidly. She then pops it into the microwave for a minute and heads into the pantry to grab the marshmallows she hides on the top shelf because she knows there won’t ever be any if Brittany finds them. She has a weakness for marshmallows. Or all things soft and fluffy, really.
Sighing as she knows what will really cheer Britt up, Santana heads upstairs and into Brittany’s room. Two yellow eyes peer at her disinterestedly.
“I know you don’t like me, Tubbs. Honestly, I don’t really have any love for you, either. But my girl does. So you’re not going to bite, hiss, scratch or do anything else that could harm this perfect face. Got it?”
She gets a half-hearted meow in response and steps up to him. Thankfully, the trip downstairs is uneventful and the look on Brittany’s face makes every catfight she’s ever had with His Grouchiness disappear from memory.
“Your hot chocolate is almost ready,” Santana murmurs, kissing Brittany’s forehead again before she can stop herself.
She pauses, not entirely sure why she keeps giving into these ridiculous thoughts. She just feels so comfortable around Britt, and especially with it being December and approaching Britt’s favourite holiday. They cuddle and hum carols. They watch endless marathons of Christmas movies, they help decorate the trees at each other’s houses. They fall asleep watching the lights on the tree. Santana bakes cookies for Santa and gives Britt a tester of every batch she makes.
Santana sighs and walks back to the kitchen. She opens the microwave and stirs the milk and hot chocolate vigorously. Britt hates it when there’s powder left at the bottom of her cup. She adds water from the newly-boiled kettle and stirs slowly. She adds one spoon of sugar because Britt likes everything sweet. Her secret ingredient – a sprinkling of cinnamon, which she knows Britt has figured out – gets added, topped by a dozen marshmallows.
Santana grabs the whipped cream and squirts a small bit on top of the marshmallows. Perfect. She carries the hot mug out to the living room where she can hear Britt telling Tubbs all about her day. It’s quite relaxing for Santana really. She loves listening to Brittany speak. Of course, she’ll never admit it.
“Dank you!” Brittany murmurs with that big smile that is fast becoming Santana’s weakness.
“No problem, Britt-Britt.” Her phone buzzes and she sees a text from Puck, telling her to come over.
“Puck?”
Santana looks up and sees Brittany trying not to pout. “Uh, yeah.”
“You can go. He ith your boyfriend.”
She doesn’t want to go. She wants her winter traditions with Britt. Puckerman will still be there tomorrow. Or in three days’ time. Whatever.
Santana grins and tosses her phone on top of her bag, which is next to the couch and sits down. She pulls the blanket over her legs and snuggles close to her best friend.
“Who’s gonna make you the best hot chocolate in the world if I go? Nope, you’re sick and you need my super-powered healing hot chocolate.”
Brittany looks at her in what Santana can only hope is adoration.
Wait, what? No, not adoration. She can’t…
“You make da beth hot chocolad. I can theel da power working already.”
“I’ll always take care of you, Britt-Britt,” Santana murmurs, not even noticing that she’s stroking Tubb’s back. “When we’re twenty-five and living in New York, we’ll cuddle up and watch Christmas movies and decorate our tree and do all those things.”
“You dink so?”
Santana looks at her and smiles. “Hells, yeah.” She taps her forehead. “My Mexican third eye never lies.”