6th grade
Santana's POV
And she smells like lemongrass and sleep
She tastes like apple juice and peach
The first time she ever kisses her is in 6th grade. They're curled up on Brittany's bed, the radio beside them lazily spitting out a tune as she taps her long fingers down her smooth tan skin. Those bright blue eyes are boring into hers, full of questions she's not sure she'll ever really have the answers for. It's been a long day and an even longer night, one of those late September days where the air feels heavier than a down blanket and their clothes are plastered to their sweat-sticky skin. Intertwined like this, it should be too hot. The heat is suffocating enough on it's own- but here, with limbs wrapped each other and chests pressed tightly together- it just feels right.
Raising her head to look at her, her long blonde braids gently whooshing past her chest, she asks
"Have you ever kissed anyone?"
Her heart races, skin icing over even in the oppressing heat.
"No," she manages to force out, ignoring the way her eyes are tugging towards her full pink lips. 'Have you?'
She shakes her head in response, skin creasing slightly as her mouth tugs downwards, those shining braids swinging through the air.
"I wonder what it's like though. I heard that boy Noah talking about it at recess."
She gulps nervously, not knowing why her breath feels so labored now. Brittany's her best friend. Of course they talk about things like this. Besides, it's not like she wants to kiss any of those dumb boys. They're all so... boyish. Too dirty, too loud, too rough. She can never see herself wanting to date one of them, but she knows it'll one day be expected of her. She may be 12, but she sure as hell isn't stupid. She hears the way older girls compare the boys they're crushing on during the bus ride home from school and of course she sees the way how dating the right one can skyrocket your popularity. As those blue eyes drill into her flushed skin- she convinces herself it's just from the heat- the full weight of her question sinks in. 'Wait. Does Brittany want to kiss someone?' She doesn't know why, but the thought her, so perfect and innocent, dating a boy makes her want to throw up. It must be the heat she manages to convince herself, pushing down the slippery feeling of lying to herself.
Brittany lets out a long sigh of air, her breath pushing her flyaways into her face. Those eyes are deep with understanding and, for some reason, a little apprehension. She can practically hear the gears turning in her brain, mulling over some thought, surely something so inherently Brittany that she feels no one else will understand. She cautions a movement closer to her, pushing her self up onto her elbows so her dark hair hangs down towards her chest, their faces parallel.
"A penny for your thoughts?" she queries with a tight-lipped smile.
Ever since they heard the expression on a late night television show years ago, they use it whenever they want to know what the other is thinking, sort of like asking to be let in. She knows that other people frequently use the expression, but it's different for them- then again almost everything is- it's more of a reassurance. A promise to try to help understand whatever it is that the other is struggling with, a promise that they won't judge them no matter what it is. It's a way of saying 'I'm here. I get you. I want to be let into everything you do. You tell me what's wrong and I'll help you fix it.'
"I'm just worried. Other girls have said they've already kissed boys. I've never even hugged one! Today in English, Tina told me that Matt had been asking about me." She tries to ignore the way hearing about Matt makes her want to punch him in the stomach. "I just don't have any experience, everyone already calls me stupid, if I don't know how to kiss they'll never stop making fun of me!"
Her heart clenches, both from the thought of Brittany kissing anyone and from what she's just told her.
"Britt-Britt, you know you're not stupid. You're a genius! Who else would be smart enough to know when Lord Tubbington was sick or would be able to teach their little sister to tie her shoes in just 5 minutes!"
Those bright eyes twinkle for a moment before dropping back down to the light pink comforter they're sitting on top of. Her voice is sad and heavy with something she can't quite place.
"I know...and I try not to listen to them, but I just want to fit in."
Nervously fidgeting with her hands she tries to think of a way to comfort Brittany. Her voice quivers, breaking on the last syllable as she quietly whispers to the blonde next to her.
"What if... we practiced... kissing, together?"
Her eyes widen as the panic sets in. Oh god, what has she done? Brittany will never want to talk to her again, oh god, oh god she's screwed everything up for real this time. Her breath catches as black splotches dance in front of her vision. She thinks she's gonna pass, lose consciousness and hopefully wake up in a world where she hasn't just said that. She starts to backtrack, but Brittany interrupts her before she can get more than a word out.
'Ok.'
'Ok?' she sputters, not quite believing her ears.
The blonde simply nods in response, her face unreadable and eyes pensive. She slowly rolls her over onto her back, her hair splayed around her like a dark halo. She half-crawls on top her, firm muscle from years of dance pressing into her soft skin. Never taking her eyes off hers for even a moment, she leans in slowly, her breath a warm wisp against her skin as she draws nearer. The instant those soft lips press against her own, it's like her body comes alive. They're both still for a moment, Brittany suddenly nervous. Taking control, she wraps her skinny arms around her back, pulling her closer. Their teeth clack against each other and they giggle, before quickly getting lost in the moment again. Growing silent once more, they press their lips together again.
Her lips are soft, softer than she ever expected they could be. As the kisses grow a little longer and little more open, she can taste the apple juice they'd been drinking just a few minutes ago. Her mouth tastes sweet, better than any candy. A mix of apple juice and the tangy flavor of peach and something so inherently Brittany. It's like she's been sleeping ten thousand years, but now she's finally more awake than she's ever been. Kissing her feels more right than anything she's ever done before, more natural and normal than even breathing.
The spend the next few minutes trading soft kisses, neither of them quite know what they're doing, but in the end it doesn't really matter. Their bodies are flush against each other, pressed close enough that she can hear the beating of her heart. It feels like it beats in sync with hers, the two of them thumping together to create a beautiful melody, prettier than any song she's ever heard before. When they're both too out of breath to continue, they pause for a moment. She buries her face into the supple skin of her neck. Breathing in deep past the smell of her lemongrass shampoo, to the scents beneath. She smells like moonlight embodied, like clean clothes hanging on a line in the summer air. She smells like sleep, like the sweet scent of roses from a lover. But most of all, she smells like home. She knows that later the internal breakdown will come. The questioning of why she liked it so much, why she only wants to kiss her girl best friend, not any of the boys. But now's not the time for that. Pushing all negative thoughts out of her head, she leans over to kiss her once again.
She has always loved the taste of peach after all.