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feeling is first

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Don't cry
--the best gesture of my brain is less than
your eyelids' flutter which says

we are for eachother

Santana wasn't Brittany's first kiss, but Brittany was Santana's. Maybe you'd expect it to be the other way around, because Brittany's best friend was Lord Tubbington in middle school (not that it was her classmates' fault or anything, it's just: if you think Lord Tubbington is cool now, you should have seen him during his crazy teenage years), and Santana has always been like the coolest girl ever.

Brittany kissed Bobby Pritchett when she was eleven and a half because he loaned her his eraser and it seemed fair. It was shaped like a starfish, and way cooler than the kiss itself. Brittany has always pretty much liked everybody, which made it sort of hard once she joined the Cheerios in high school, but back in middle school it was never really a problem. But Santana had standards -- or at least, that's what she always said whenever she got made fun of at sleepovers and stuff for not being kissed yet.

Then she turned thirteen, and got called a dumb virgin who can't drive for still being unkissed. None of them could drive and all of them were virgins so Brittany didn't really see the big deal, but Santana got super pissed. She broke into Larissa's locker and left a tuna fish sandwich in there over Christmas break. And cried while she and Brittany were walking home.

"It's not a big deal," Brittany said, wrapping an arm around her. "She just took that from Clueless anyway."

"I know," Santana said angrily, even through all the crying she was doing. "I don't care what that stupid ho-bitch thinks."

(Santana has always really liked expressions like 'ho-bitch.')

"Then why are you so sad?"

"It's just," Santana said, and swiped a tear away like she was mad at it (which she is going to do again later when she tells Brittany she loves her, and which always makes Brittany's heart hurt, and did even when she was twelve), "I hate thinking that they're all judging me. Like any of them are even that cool! They're not. Like they're so great just because they've had boys' tongues in their mouths. Whatever. I have standards, you know? I want it to be special. None of the boys here are special."

"What about Noah Puckerman?" Brittany suggested. "He's always looking at you."

"Noah Puckerman's two biggest skills are spitballs and puking at will so he can get out of pre-algebra," Santana scowled.

"And Donkey Kong," Brittany pointed out fairly.

"And Donkey Kong," Santana agreed.

They kept on walking for awhile, and Santana kept on crying to herself, and angry-swiping at the tears, and Brittany kept holding her hand.

"I could kiss you," Brittany offered. "Just to get it over with."

"You're a girl," Santana sniffled.

"I think lips are unisex," Brittany said, frowning thoughtfully. But yeah: she was pretty sure.

"No, but--" Santana looked at her, this hard-sad-but-kind-of-hopeful look. "Everyone will just think we're lesbians."

"So?" Brittany said.

"That's a bad thing."

"Oh." Brittany has always really sucked at keeping track of all of that stuff. "Well. No one's around right now."

"That's true," Santana acknowledged with a sniffle.

"I don't have a starfish eraser to give you or anything though," Brittany warned. Just to be fair.

Santana shook her head a little, that 'what are you talking about?' face that's still just the same and never seems mean on her, somehow. "That's ... okay?"

"Okay, cool," Brittany said, and kissed her on the lips. Santana tasted like raspberry Lip Smackers instead of Doritos. She was still crying a little. It was the first time Brittany figured out that kissing could be nice, like the movies make you think it's always going to be.

"See?" Brittany pulled away. "Easy. No big deal."

"No big deal," Santana repeated.

Brittany tugged Santana along. They were supposed to go straight to her house to work on their homework, but really they just wanted to be home by 3:30 so they could watch Arthur. It was their biggest secret; Santana had sworn she'd twist Brittany's arms off if she ever told anyone. Brittany knew she wouldn't actually do it, but she kept her mouth shut anyway. Arthur was always like her favorite part of her day. Just her, and Santana, and not having to worry about being cool, for once.

"Kissing you is way nicer than kissing a boy," Brittany said.

"Duh," Santana said, trying to sound serious and giggling anyway.

And maybe you could say that that's where it started. But not if you ask Brittany, who thinks that maybe some things don't start, but just are, all the time.