Brittany was flirting.
Santana could tell from the other side of the room. Even with Brittany's back was to her she could recognize the body language in an instant. The coy stance, her head tilting to one side as she unnecessarily touched an arm. Santana had taught Brittany that move herself, during the summer before they had started high school. And now Brittany was pulling all the old tricks that they had both used back then to get boys to do anything they wanted. For the life of her, Santana could not figure out what Brittany could possibly want from this one.
Santana regarded her over her cup of coffee, more curious than jealous. Brittany was putting on a show because she wanted something; it was nothing like the subtle, sometimes shy way that she flirted with Santana.
Brittany's target was a boy Santana had seen around in their time at the hotel doing odd jobs in the lobby and on the grounds. He looked around 18, maybe 19, years old, and was rather scrawny and bashful. What Santana could see of his face was bright red and he was visibly flustered. She almost felt sorry for the kid.
After a few minutes of conversation, Brittany gave the boy a final pat on his arm and returned to their breakfast table, biting her lip in a way that told Santana that she had gotten exactly what she wanted.
"Are you going to tell me what that was about?" Santana asked, raising an eyebrow when Brittany sat back down.
"He's helping me with something," Brittany responded mildly as broke off a piece of bread and threw it into her mouth.
"What kind of something?" she asked, her eyes narrowing as she realized that she didn't have the slightest clue what Brittany was up to. The kid didn't seem to be in a position to score them a room upgrade or anything like that. Not being able to guess Brittany's intentions was unusual and she didn't like the feeling.
"Surprise." Brittany shrugged a shoulder. "You'll see."
"When?"
Brittany wiggled a little bit in excitement. "This afternoon, actually. Alex was really great about my request."
Santana rolled her eyes. "With the way he about jizzed his pants when you touched his arm, I'm sure Alex would be more than happy to accommodate any request you have." Okay, so maybe she was a tiny bit jealous.
"Santana, don't be mean." Brittany's face crinkled in thought as she said, "Besides, that's happened before and it's really gross."
Santana had taken a sip of coffee at exactly the wrong time and when Brittany said that, she choked in shock and spit some of it out of her mouth and across the table.
"Yeah, it's kind of like that," Brittany deadpanned and Santana could feel sparkling eyes watching as she mopped up the mess with a pile of napkins.
Though she was pretty sure that she did not want to know, Santana still found herself asking, "When did that happen?"
"MIT," Brittany explained. "They made me tutor this freshman who had probably never seen a girl in real life before. He looked distressed, but I thought that was because differential equations are a confusing breed of equations. So I leaned over to help him and yeah…"
"Brittany, having you as a tutor would be a nerd's wet dream." Santana paused, looking that the girl across the table and amending, "or anyone's, really, but there is no way that is true a story."
"It is, unfortunately," Brittany said with such sincere resignation that Santana instantly believed her.
Santana chuckled dryly. "God I'm glad I'm a lesbian."
"Okay, so you need to wear pants and real shoes for this surprise," Brittany said, walking out of the bathroom naked aside from an almost pointless pair of panties, the clothes she had been wearing earlier balled up in her arms.
"Okay," Santana echoed, staring as Brittany bent down over her suitcase.
Her brain function returned a bit once Brittany had put on a bra and purple jeans and she reprocessed the instructions.
"What the hell are we doing?" Her eyes narrowed with suspicion. "You know I hate hiking."
"Not hiking," Brittany assured her.
"Are there animals involved?" Santana guessed.
"Nope. Just get dressed. You'll find out soon enough." Brittany pulled on a shirt and fixed her hair into a low ponytail.
Santana sighed, dragging herself over to her own suitcase to rifle through it for something to wear. Based on Brittany's cute outfit, the surprise wasn't something that would be terribly messy so Santana could probably survive.
"Will leggings work?" she asked after minute.
"Um, no, not really."
Santana sat back on her heels. "In that case, we might have a problem."
"Santana, you seriously didn't bring a single pair of pants along on this trip?" Brittany's voice was wrought with exasperation and disbelief.
"I did!" Santana said defensively. "Leggings!" She held up the aforementioned article of clothing for demonstration. Anything else had seemed like a waste of space for an island vacation where she had planned on wearing nothing at all for the majority of the time.
"Those are not real pants!" Brittany cried.
"In what way are they not real pants?" Santana protested.
Brittany didn't bother to respond to that. "So everything in your suitcase, besides that one pair of leggings, is a skirt or a dress?"
"No," Santana shot back defensively. "I also have the leggings I wore on the plane. And shirts. Shoes. Jewelry. Swimsuit." She pawed through some folded clothing, looking for more items to list.
Brittany sighed heavily. "What has New York done to the girl who used to wear overalls to school?"
Santana winced at the memory. "That was one time and we agreed to never speak of it again."
Brittany smirked. "Definitely more than one time."
"Never again!"
Brittany was still laughing to herself as she found a pair of light wash jeans in her own bag and presented them to Santana. "Wear these."
She removed the sundress she was wearing, even as she protested, "Britt, I don't think - "
Brittany cut her off. "Just put them on."
Santana obeyed, but as soon as she had them on, she said, "These don't quite fit." She made her point by hiking up the pants as they slipped too low on her hips and kicking out a foot to flap around the excess fabric at the bottoms.
"Come here." Brittany hooked her fingers into the front pocket to tug Santana over and almost pantsed her.
Affectionately, Brittany pulled the fabric back up. "I forget how tiny you are."
"Not tiny," Santana grumbled, watching as Brittany worked a belt around her hips and then proceeded to cuff the pants until her feet were visible.
"There." Brittany gave her a pat on the ass. "That should work."
Pants now adjusted, Santana went back to her suitcase and slipped into a shirt and a pair of ballet flats.
"Santana!" Brittany cried with frustration.
"What now?" She looked down at her outfit. She knew she looked hot. Brittany had no reason to complain.
"Shoes." Brittany gestured harshly at her flats.
"What's wrong with my shoes?" Santana asked defensively. "I can walk miles in these babies."
"Those are not real shoes," Brittany insisted.
"What the hell are 'real shoes', Brittany?" Santana was now starting to get frustrated herself and concerned about what they could possibly be doing that would have Brittany so particular about what she was wearing.
"Something without a heel." Santana held up her shoe in silent protest. Brittany continued, "That covers your entire foot."
"Didn't pack that," Santana said shortly.
"Not even surprised," Brittany muttered, turning to her own suitcase once again and holding out a pair of tan ankle boots. "Here."
They had the same size feet so sharing shoes was less of an issue than pants. Santana took the boots without further argument.
As she sunk down to the edge of the bed to put them on, she realized, "Britt, I don't have - "
A pair of socks hit her in the face before she could even finish the request.
"Why do you have such an issue with my clothing choices?" Santana wondered, continuing the argument that had started in the room as they walked towards the elevator for the mystery excursion set up by the stupid boy Brittany had flirted with that morning.
"I don't," Brittany said simply. "You always look hot."
"Britt, you threw a pair of socks At. My. Face," Santana griped.
"I already said that was an accident!" Brittany responded indigently.
"Right" she said sarcastically, stabbing the button for the elevator an excessive number of times.
"Santana, stop." Brittany's hand covered hers. "What is going on with you? And don't say socks again because not is so not the issue here."
She was saved from answering by the arrival of the elevator, but Brittany didn't let her get on it and instead took her hand and brought her into the stairwell that wrapped around the elevator shaft to give them relative privacy.
"Talk to me," Brittany insisted softly.
"Nothing is wrong. Let's go downstairs before Alex gives up on us." She couldn't keep the sneer out of her voice as she said his name.
Realization flooded Brittany's face. "That's why you're mad at me."
"Don't know you're talking about," she shot back stubbornly.
"Santana," Brittany sighed. "Don't do that."
"Okay, fine. I didn't like seeing you flirt with that dweeby kid. I don't want you to flirt with anyone who isn't me and I hate knowing that literally anyone in the world is fair game for you to be attracted to." Santana paused suddenly; she definitely had not intended to say that last part.
Brittany gave her a searching look and Santana broke eye contact, staring down at the floor. But Brittany didn't let her. She gently tilted Santana's chin up, her eyes loving and sincere as she responded, "You don't have to feel threatened because I'm a bicorn. I'm dating you. I'm in love with you. There is no one else in the world I would rather have, boy or girl."
Santana bit her lip. "I know." And she did. Part of her had always known that, but it was more reassuring than she had realized it would be to hear the words.
Brittany continued, "I really am sorry about this morning. I won't try to get things from people like that again."
"Thank you, babe," Santana said softly, before sighing, "But, I mean, you are damn good at it so go ahead if it's something like really awesome. Or expensive. But warn me first."
"Better yet, I'll take you with me," Brittany offered, giving her a winning smile. "We are kinda unstoppable together."
"Very true," Santana agreed, lifting to her toes for a kiss.
Brittany returned it with a gentle caress to her check. When they broke apart, she asked, "Ready for your surprise?"
They entered the lobby hand in hand.
Alex was sitting at the front desk and he noticed them right away. He stood up, saying, "I have it ready outside for you, Ms. Pierce."
"Awesome!" She bounced in excitement and dragged Santana towards the door.
When Santana saw what outside, she immediately took a step backwards. "Not happening."
"Oh, come on. It's going to be so fun," Brittany gushed, grabbing her wrist before she could escape back into the hotel.
"So fun to die?" Santana looked at the waiting moped with accusation.
Brittany scoffed. "We'll be fine. Alex is loaning it to us for the afternoon so we can explore more of the island. Isn't that so nice of him?"
Santana gave the blushing boy a sideways glance. "Um, yeah, I guess."
Before she could say anything else, Alex was giving Brittany instructions on the specifics of the moped and handing over the keys and two helmets.
"Thank you so much!" Brittany told him. "I'll be careful with it and we'll be back in a couple hours."
Alex rubbed the back of his neck. "Yes, that's very good. I'll be there." He gestured vaguely to the hotel and then scampered back inside.
Santana gave Brittany a doubtful expression. "Do you even know how to drive that thing?"
Brittany rolled her eyes. "Santana, I did motocross for six years. Give me a little credit."
She handed a helmet to Santana and shoved the other onto her head, swinging a leg over the bike and messing with a few things until the engine revved.
"Get on," Brittany instructed, holding the bike upright at it hummed between her legs.
"Oh god," Santana mumbled, but she obeyed anyways. With none of Brittany's grace, she managed to put on her helmet and get herself on the seat.
"Good. Hold onto me and don't move around too much back there until I get a feel for the balance."
When Brittany said that, Santana almost got right back off the moped. But before she could move, the bike started forward and Brittany lifted her feet off the ground, her body setting between Santana's thighs and forcing her further back on the small seat. With a squeak, Santana molded herself against Brittany to make sure her butt didn't slide off the end. When they accelerated, her body tensed in fear, her eyes squeezing shut so that she didn't have to look at the pavement passing by right under her feet.
She stayed tense with her eyes shut for the first few minutes, but after a while, when they were still alive, she started to consider opening her eyes. It seemed that Brittany did actually know what she was doing and, despite the lurch she felt in her stomach when the road curved even a tiny bit, she didn't feel like they were going to go flying into a ditch at any second. Just before she could peek, they slowed and then came to a complete stop.
That got Santana to open her eyes. They were just outside of the town they were staying in and Brittany had pulled them off the road in a wide, gravel shoulder.
"What's wrong?" Santana asked.
Brittany turned off the moped and as soon as it was quiet beneath her, Santana became aware of how shaky her legs were. Brittany got off of the bike and lifted her sunglasses, her eyes squinting in the bright afternoon as she studied Santana.
"Do you want to go back?" Brittany asked her seriously.
"We barely started," Santana pointed out.
"Yeah, but you seem terrified back there. I could feel how tense you were." Brittany gave her a soft look. "I thought that this would be a fun thing for us to do; I never wanted to make you so scared."
"I wasn't scared." She paused and amended, "Not that scared. I was…adjusting."
Brittany tilted her head in thought. "I never got to take you for a ride on my dirt bike."
Santana shook her head, secretly relived. She had seen that bike and it looked even less safe than what they were riding. Those races had also made her close her eyes, unable to handle the way her heart leapt into her throat every time Brittany took a tight corner.
"I always wanted to, you know," Brittany said sweetly. "But my dad didn't let me ride in the neighborhoods and it got too busy at my races. But I would have loved to take you. That's what gave me this idea."
The sentiment made Santana melt, and she heard herself saying, "Let's keep going."
"Are you absolutely sure?" Brittany asked. "We can turn around. It's really okay."
But Santana shrugged off the offer. "I was starting to get used to it. You're a good driver."
Brittany grinned and Santana couldn't help but kiss her.
Before they could get carried away, Brittany broke away, eyes bright with excitement. "I'm glad you want to keep going. Maybe you can even keep your eyes open this time."
"How did you know that - " She realized her inadvertent admission and corrected to say, "I didn't have my eyes closed!"
Brittany chuckled. "Sometimes you forget how well I know you."
"You never let me." Her response was lost as Brittany turned around and started the moped back up.
It was better when Santana at least knew what to expect. She felt a bit more stable, though that didn't stop her from clinging tight onto Brittany, and with her eyes opened it was clear that they were not traveling at the breakneck speed she had previously imagined. And it was admittedly a great way to see more of the island. Brittany didn't seem to have a particular route in mind, but they cruised along the coast, then inland along some random roads that managed to pop them back out near the town where they were staying. For someone who could barely read a map, Brittany had a scary good sense of direction.
Instead of going back right away, Brittany turned the opposite direction and pulled over to the side of a road, where a rocky cliff overlooked the sea. She stopped the moped and hopped off, holding it steady until Santana could climb off as well.
"This is so awesome! I wanted to stop and look," Brittany exclaimed, yanking off her helmet to revel the cutest helmet-hair, blonde strands escaping her ponytail in all directions.
"Okay," Santana agreed, taking off her own helmet and watching as Brittany scampered up a midsize boulder to get a better look at the water.
"Santana." Brittany was holding her hands out expectantly.
She obeyed, walking over the few paces and letting Brittany pull her up onto the rock. Brittany's arms immediately wrapped around her in reverse of their position on the moped. Without the breeze created from riding, it was almost uncomfortably hot with jeans, direct sunlight, and close contact, but Santana had no desire to move away. They stood in silence for a couple minutes, watching a sailboat in the distance, until Brittany started placing light kisses along her neck.
"Britt," she giggled, her body automatically softening.
"What?" Brittany mumbled, her kisses turning to more insistent sucks. "You taste good." Hands slipped under her shirt to the skin on her stomach.
Santana spun away, leaping back down to the ground before it could go further. She knew what would happen if she let Brittany get carried away.
"Hey!" Brittany pouted at her.
"That is so not going to work this time." Santana turned away and walked back over to the bike.
Brittany quickly followed. "But that ride got me all horny." She wrapped her arms back around Santana, her voice dropping as she added, "And wet."
Santana closed her eyes against the images flooding her brain. Gathering her thoughts, she turned so that Brittany would stop the subtle grinding against her ass that was sure to make relent if it continued.
"How about you find us a cute restaurant and we get an early dinner before taking the bike back?" Santana suggested. "That way we won't have to leave the room for the rest of the night."
"But I want you now," Brittany whined.
"Be patient and you can have me all night long," Santana breathed, nipping at Brittany's earlobe.
"Fine." Brittany let out an over-the-top sigh. "But it's going to be the faster dinner ever."
Santana couldn't agree more.
