santana.

Santana wasn’t an idiot. She knew exactly what the issue was, and it was a problem that she actually shared. Overcrowding. She never thought she would miss the days when she was only being mildly annoyed by Rachel and Kurt, instead of half of the New Directions. “There’s way too many people up in here. Even if we all had two apartments it would still be hell, and I don’t know which team I’d like to go for. God knows if Britt and I were together I wouldn’t drag her into the Misfit Brady Bunch we’ve got going on. You need your own place, then you can get down and dirty as much as you like. Until then, I’d suggest our local, Bushwick sex shop. Or, if you need a break from Lady Hummel, get a place with me. You’re pretty up there on my people I can tolerate list, so I wouldn’t hate it.”

Leave it to Santana to drop advice in his lap that felt like both a slap to the back of his head and a glimmer of hope.  No.  They didn’t need a trip to the sex shop.  What they needed was room.  That was a start.  However.  Breaching the subject with his fiance’ was more intimidating than it should be.  Therein lies the root of his mood Blaine did his best to skim past.  Pretending the lack of private time was his only concern?  Seemed a hell of a lot easier to deal with than the revolving door of issues Blaine felt like he was watching fill up without any clue how to empty it.  Jumping onto the glimmer of hope part of their talk, Blaine’s pout turned into a warm smile.  “Wow.  I am,” he lightly teased with the question.  “I’m honored.”  A place with Santana?  The idea of not running into four people before he could get a shower felt like a far away memory he left back in Ohio.  One he missed more and more each morning.  Appealing as it was, he bit his lip and let a heavy exhale out of his nose that could only be read as hesitation.  “Any suggestions on how to bring this up?  I mean.  If we were going to actually do it..?”