Ship: Brittana
Word: Hotdog
Requested by thelaundrymatt.

Santana groaned, flipping her phone shut with attitude reminiscent of her high school days. She had to meet Brittany at the hotdog stand [their hotdog stand], or hell would be paid. Despite being incredibly busy on set, she’d agreed. Puck would have commented on the fact that she was whipped as all hell, but fuck - the sex was great. Who wouldn’t be whipped when you got that kind of ass in return?

Anyway, the stand was a couple blocks away, and Brittany was already waiting there. And on top of that, summer in L.A. is a bitch. At least it wasn’t humid, like Ohio - a place she was glad to have deserted years back to pursue a career in Hollywood. With Brittany, of course.

Together, they’d viciously clawed her way to the top of the ladder; Santana was now a full-time director, infamous for her no-bullshit, call-it-as-I-see-it attitude. [Or as she liked to put it: She kept it real.]

Brittany, on the other hand, had found her calling in Advertising. Not exactly what all their peers back at McKinley had expected but really - no one knew what the people wanted like Brittany S. Pierce. And if you didn’t believe it, her position at the top spoke for her: her ad campaigns were rivaled by no other.

Santana reached the stand at last, trying to keep her composure but feeling the strongest urge to find the nearest fountain and swan-dive into that fucker. Her set going to be in shambles by the time she got back - the typical kid intern that worked on set couldn’t take a shit without their mama being there to wipe their ass. On top of that, she was working up a sweat in that godforsaken summer heat. She was eying the people around her, silently edging them on; the first stranger to come up to talk to her was going to get a fist-full of Santana’s fury in their face. And she looked forward to it.

But then she spotted Brittany.

The blonde stood a few yards away, wisps of golden hair teased by the warm, dry Santa Anas. She wore a pair of classy sunglasses and a yellow summer dress that likewise shifted with the breeze. When she turned and caught sight of Santana, her face broke out into a smile and jogged over to meet her.

A quick kiss was all it took to lift Santana’s spirits. Brittany took her hand and let her to the stand, ordering the usual. No more stress, no more heat.

Just love and some kickass hotdogs.