Fic: Dolphins and Mermaids (Part 1/2)
There were a few reasons why Brittany spent every day of her junior summer at the community swimming pool.
The first was that her parents only got three weeks worth of vacation a year, one of which had already been spent during Christmas, and her sister was at summer camp, so the house was pretty quiet. And a quiet house during the summer wasn’t really her thing.
The second was that she was pretty sure she had been a mermaid in her past life - or at least a dolphin. She flipped and spun and dived with such poise and ease that, in her mind, no one but a reincarnated mermaid or gay shark could outdo her. To her, swimming was only a step away from dancing, and the fluid motions that would stun her dance teacher on land, carried her through the water with speed and effortless grace. She could blow ring bubbles underwater, do impressive, flipping dives, and hold her breath for over two minutes. In the water, she was in her element, and she loved it.
The third, most important and most self-explanatory reason, was that Santana was lifeguarding.
Brittany looked at her as she stood in line for the diving board. Santana was perched high up on her lifeguarding seat, surveying the pool with a keen eye. Her body shone with sunblock, her tan skin softly reflecting the sunlight in a sheen of oil. Her bathing suit hugged her body, accentuating every curve with its form, and Brittany followed the pattern with her eyes, taking in the red and white with interest and smiling with memories of times she’d had that impeccable body pressed against her, moving with purpose and passion to a rhythm they both knew all too well. She licked her lips at the memories, and briefly let her eyes flutter closed, but someone made a sound of impatience behind her and she jolted back to reality, moving up a step on the diving board.
Santana absentmindedly twirled her whistle around her index finger. She turned her head slightly in Brittany’s direction, and even with the sunglasses hiding her eyes, Brittany could tell she was looking at her because a small, knowing smirk appeared on her lips. A second later, it was gone as a child made a cry in the shallow end, and Santana tensed her hand around her armrest and glanced quickly to the commotion. The cry turned into a laugh, and she relaxed in her seat.
Brittany smiled. Though Santana spent the majority of her time glancing surreptitiously at Brittany, she took her job seriously. Last week a boy had hit his head on the side of the pool, and Santana’s sharp eyes had picked up the slight stain of red in the clear water and his motionless body far before his mother had cried out in alarm from the side of the pool. Brittany had watched in horror as she whistled to alarm the pool owner and first-aid team and dived into the pool in a fluid motion. Seconds later, the boy was lying on the concrete by the side of the pool as Santana checked his breathing and vitals. The boy had only been dazed, and as soon as Santana shook him awake, he’d started bawling in pain and in fear of what had happened, but he’d walked home with nothing more than a bandage on his head, a salt-water taffee popsicle in his hand, and a protective motherly arm over his shoulders. The mother had insisted on giving her something for saving the boy’s life, and, without all too much resistance, Santana had accepted the Breadstix coupons with a pleased smile. She’d spent the rest of the day gloating in her seat, lapping up the attention and adoring looks of the pool-goers (particularly, the teenage boys) with a proud smirk and a flashy flip of her hair over her shoulders.
The level of attention hadn’t waned, Brittany noticed with an amused smile. The water closest to Santana’s seat was filled with teenage boys. They shouted at each other with boisterous amusement, glancing up now and then to see if they’d caught her attention; they did daring flips from the side of the pool, breaking the surface with an expectant grin; they played chicken to the point that one pair was run into the deep end and the carrier sputtered his protests as the level of water rose before he was cut off and submitted to the voluntary drowning for the sake of Santana’s attention.
Santana surveyed the boys with a deliberate, confident smile, and spared them all less than a glance - which, naturally, urged them to try harder. Brittany knew Santana loved the attention, and she didn’t mind when she played along, laughing at a particularly impressive antic, or whistling jokingly when one of them feigned drowning. The boys thumped each other on the back in congratulations at the small tokens of attention she gave them, which inadvertently led to dunking fights and horseplay. Santana shook her head, and uncrossed and recrossed her legs; a few of the boys got distracted, and paid for it seconds later when their friends pushed them underwater.
Brittany laughed out loud when one of the boys splashed at Santana playfully, and she sent him a seething glare that had him swimming away in fear within seconds. No one wanted to be banned from the pool, and Santana had banned a few people for anything from running around, rough horseplay, or splashing her - but mostly, just people who rubbed her the wrong way.
It was Brittany’s turn on the diving board. She stepped up, kneaded the rough board with her toes to get a feel for it, and waited patiently for Santana’s attention. She got it within seconds - the boys’ antics went completely unnoticed as Santana turned her face to Brittany, smiled mischievously, and licked her lips expectantly. Brittany smiled, a small blush creeping in to her cheeks (she could tell Santana was using her sunglasses to shamelessly check her out), but, even though she was suddenly a little shy, she squared her shoulders and prepared the dive.
She took in a deep breath, briefly closed her eyes, blocked out the sounds around her, and let herself breathe in suspenseful silence for her upcoming feat. Things could go wrong quite unexpectedly, she knew that, and she hadn’t tried a dive like this before. She opened her eyes, glanced quickly at Santana (her expectant grin had faded slightly to one of worry), but then returned her attention to the board, and jolted forward in a quick sprint. She used her momentum to increase her power as she jumped on the edge of the board, and launched herself into free air. Instantly, she twisted her body into a corkscrew turn. Her eyes shut of their own accord as the world spun around her, the air swirling rapidly against her skin, drying the lingering drops. Wait, wait, wait, Brittany counted silently in her head, instinctively aware of the world around her. As soon as she hit the 720 mark of the turn, she pulled her legs up and added a last second 360 flip, just as her hands touched water. She breathed a sigh of relief as her hands, her head, her torso, and then the rest of her was almost lovingly enveloped by the waiting water. She torpedoed down into the silent depths and finally opened her eyes. Bubbles escaped from her mouth as she smiled. She lightly tapped the bottom of the pool with her hands, spun over, and launched herself off the pool floor.
She broke the surface with force, droplets of water flying away from her in an elemental halo as she flipped her hair over her head and took a breath. She couldn’t hide her grin as she caught half the pool-goers watching her with slack-jawed, amazed expressions. A few of them clapped, but the applause died down self-consciously, and people looked away. She didn’t mind. She had eyes for only one person.
Brittany bobbed up and down in the water eagerly, looking up hopefully as Santana smiled down at her, equal parts awed and relieved. The brunette took in Brittany’s smiling face with loving eyes, and though Brittany couldn’t see her eyes, she felt it nonetheless. As distracting as the blonde was for her summer job, Santana secretly adored having Brittany so close all day.
In a few quick strokes, Brittany was at the side of the pool, and pulled herself out gracefully. She looked over her shoulder and noticed Santana hadn’t taken her eyes off her as she pulled herself out of the water - a move that she knew showed off her rippling back and firm ass flawlessly. She grinned mischievously at the brunette as she grabbed a towel and slowly started to dry herself off, and Santana pulled her bottom lip between her teeth, let out a shuddering, difficult breath, and shifted her crossed legs uncomfortably. Brittany smirked; she knew exactly what she was doing, and was loving every second of it. She watched as Santana tightened her grip on her whistle, and realized she was contemplating starting her break early and banning everyone from the pool for twenty minutes - twenty long, uninterrupted minutes she could spend with Brittany in the poolhouse lounge or hot-tub hut. Brittany’s grin widened at the thought, but she knew Santana would get in trouble for emptying the pool before she was supposed to, and shook her head quickly.
Later, she mouthed suggestively, and Santana squirmed in her seat. Brittany decided to stop the torture, and stopped drying off. If Santana was going to start her break soon, she might as well make use of the last hour of the open water.
As she lay her towel back over pool chair, she heard Santana call out.
“Boys!”
Brittany looked over her shoulder at Santana’s strange, almost strained tone, and realized the brunette was desperately trying to distract herself from looking at Brittany.
“Oh, boys!” she called again, and this time, her tone was corrected to light, seductive, and playful. She pushed her sunglasses to the top of her head as the boys came splashing towards her from all sides, limbs flailing and pushing each other out of the way to get the best spot to adore the object of their teenage fantasies.
“I’m afraid I’ve dropped my whistle…” she said with a slight, theatrical pout, and uncrossed her legs. The boys looked up at her with expressions of drooling idolization.
“Where?” one of the more bold ones squeaked, and she gave him a look of amusement.
“Somewhere in the pool, of course. Could one of you go get it?” she asked, increasing her pout and batting her eyelashes. Brittany watched with a smile. “Winner gets a kiss,” she added almost as an afterthought, and her eyes involuntarily glanced over to Brittany. Her pout turned into an impish grin, and suddenly the pool erupted in desperate splashing as the boys pushed each other out of the way in their desperation to find the whistle. They ducked under, searching the pool floor, but the commotion around them was turning the water to bubbles and froth, making the whistle difficult to spot.
Brittany had no trouble. She was at the side of the pool within a fraction of a second, searching the bright blue floor. Her eyes found the silver whistle quickly, just as one of the older boys did, and trumpeted his discovery proudly. Almost as one, the boys dove under the water and made their way to the bottom of the deep end. Brittany took two steps back, sprinted forward, and launched herself into the water in a perfect, powerful dive that brought her into the path of all the boys. They pulled back underwater in shock, most of them losing their breath and swimming back up to regain it. A few of them kept on, but Brittany’s hand clutched the whistle elatedly as she curved over the bottom of the pool in her dive and made her way back up. She broke the surface with her fist proudly displaying the trophy and a grin shining up at Santana expectantly for her reward. Santana smiled.
“You’re going to have a lot of enemies at this pool, babe,” she said softly as Brittany climbed out of the pool, looking over the disgruntled and disappointed faces of the boys as they swam back dejectedly.
“That’s okay,” Brittany replied, and dangled the whistle from her fingers. “At least I got a kiss out of it.” She climbed up two steps onto Santana’s raised seat, bringing her closer and earning a smile, and presented Santana the whistle.
“You know I can’t kiss you on the lips,” Santana replied a little more softly, a hint of worry creeping into her voice at Brittany’s eagerness. Brittany soothed it with a smile.
“I know.” As Santana took the whistle, Brittany grabbed her hand, the whistle trapped between their palms, and used the grip to pull herself higher. She was inches from Santana’s face before the brunette realized what had happened. Santana’s eyes widened at the unexpected invasion of space and at the way her body responded of its own accord to Brittany’s proximity: her breath hitched, her heart skipped a beat, and her legs pressed together urgently to relieve the sudden ache between them.
Brittany grinned impishly as she surveyed the reaction, and tilted her head to the side, exposing her cheek expectantly. Santana smiled.
She leaned in and placed a soft kiss on Brittany’s damp cheek. Her lips lingered for a second to whisper, so no one but Brittany could hear, “Stop making me want you so much.”
Brittany’s naughty grin widened, and she let go of Santana’s hand to briefly place it on her thigh instead, squeezing playfully. “Never,” she whispered back, and then jumped down the two steps to land elegantly on the concrete. Santana smiled down at her lovingly.
Then one of the boy in the water sniggered, and a guarded, angry expression flashed across Santana’s face as she pierced the unruly teenager with her stare. His vulgar leer at Santana’s momentary weakness was quickly wiped off his face when he noticed her expression.
“Hey you, little wart,” Santana called with menace, and the boy gulped. “See what this is?” She spun the whistle around her fingers again. “This is the whistle that you, with your flimsy baby arms and flailing fungus feet, failed to bring me.” The rest of the boys tittered softly at their friend’s discomfort and humiliation. “And you know what this whistle can do?” Santana continued, as she brought it to her lips and whistled two piercing notes. “Ban you from the pool for the day, that’s what.”
The teenager looked up in shock and anger.
“That’s not fair!” he shouted.
“Life isn’t fair, pipsqueak,” Santana hissed.
The boy started to protest again, but another look from Santana stopped him in his tracks.
“Out. Now,” she said in a dangerously low voice. The teenager hung his head in defeat and pulled himself out of the water. He plopped into a plastic chair and crossed his arms sullenly, glaring at Santana. She ignored him, and turned to the rest of boys as they continued to laugh at their friend.
“What are all of you laughing at?” she said sharply, and they fell silent. Even though Santana was their peer in most of the boys’ cases, the fearful looks on their faces could have convinced anyone that they hadn’t even reached puberty. “You should be busy swimming down and trying to find your balls because they’re littering my pool floor. Get out of my sight,” she finished with venom and annoyance. They scrambled to follow her command, and left Brittany and Santana in peace.
“Jeez, San,” Brittany breathed.
“Whatever,” Santana replied with a nonchalant flip of her hair. “They were getting on my nerves.” She recrossed her legs and pressed them together with a sour expression on her face. It faded slightly when she looked back down at Brittany, who was still looking up at her with a smile. “What?”
“Nothing,” Brittany answered with a sly smile.
“Britt, what?” Santana said again, some of her annoyance leaking into her voice as she sighed in exasperation.
“You get cranky when you’re horny,” Brittany replied with a laugh, and before Santana could reply, she bounded away and dove into the water. She flipped on her back when the water enveloped her, and saw through the rippling surface that Santana continued to stare. She smiled underwater, and swam the length of the pool. Teasing Santana was always fun.
End of Part 1
A/N: "Post too large"! That's a first! :)
Find Part 2 here.
The first was that her parents only got three weeks worth of vacation a year, one of which had already been spent during Christmas, and her sister was at summer camp, so the house was pretty quiet. And a quiet house during the summer wasn’t really her thing.
The second was that she was pretty sure she had been a mermaid in her past life - or at least a dolphin. She flipped and spun and dived with such poise and ease that, in her mind, no one but a reincarnated mermaid or gay shark could outdo her. To her, swimming was only a step away from dancing, and the fluid motions that would stun her dance teacher on land, carried her through the water with speed and effortless grace. She could blow ring bubbles underwater, do impressive, flipping dives, and hold her breath for over two minutes. In the water, she was in her element, and she loved it.
The third, most important and most self-explanatory reason, was that Santana was lifeguarding.
Brittany looked at her as she stood in line for the diving board. Santana was perched high up on her lifeguarding seat, surveying the pool with a keen eye. Her body shone with sunblock, her tan skin softly reflecting the sunlight in a sheen of oil. Her bathing suit hugged her body, accentuating every curve with its form, and Brittany followed the pattern with her eyes, taking in the red and white with interest and smiling with memories of times she’d had that impeccable body pressed against her, moving with purpose and passion to a rhythm they both knew all too well. She licked her lips at the memories, and briefly let her eyes flutter closed, but someone made a sound of impatience behind her and she jolted back to reality, moving up a step on the diving board.
Santana absentmindedly twirled her whistle around her index finger. She turned her head slightly in Brittany’s direction, and even with the sunglasses hiding her eyes, Brittany could tell she was looking at her because a small, knowing smirk appeared on her lips. A second later, it was gone as a child made a cry in the shallow end, and Santana tensed her hand around her armrest and glanced quickly to the commotion. The cry turned into a laugh, and she relaxed in her seat.
Brittany smiled. Though Santana spent the majority of her time glancing surreptitiously at Brittany, she took her job seriously. Last week a boy had hit his head on the side of the pool, and Santana’s sharp eyes had picked up the slight stain of red in the clear water and his motionless body far before his mother had cried out in alarm from the side of the pool. Brittany had watched in horror as she whistled to alarm the pool owner and first-aid team and dived into the pool in a fluid motion. Seconds later, the boy was lying on the concrete by the side of the pool as Santana checked his breathing and vitals. The boy had only been dazed, and as soon as Santana shook him awake, he’d started bawling in pain and in fear of what had happened, but he’d walked home with nothing more than a bandage on his head, a salt-water taffee popsicle in his hand, and a protective motherly arm over his shoulders. The mother had insisted on giving her something for saving the boy’s life, and, without all too much resistance, Santana had accepted the Breadstix coupons with a pleased smile. She’d spent the rest of the day gloating in her seat, lapping up the attention and adoring looks of the pool-goers (particularly, the teenage boys) with a proud smirk and a flashy flip of her hair over her shoulders.
The level of attention hadn’t waned, Brittany noticed with an amused smile. The water closest to Santana’s seat was filled with teenage boys. They shouted at each other with boisterous amusement, glancing up now and then to see if they’d caught her attention; they did daring flips from the side of the pool, breaking the surface with an expectant grin; they played chicken to the point that one pair was run into the deep end and the carrier sputtered his protests as the level of water rose before he was cut off and submitted to the voluntary drowning for the sake of Santana’s attention.
Santana surveyed the boys with a deliberate, confident smile, and spared them all less than a glance - which, naturally, urged them to try harder. Brittany knew Santana loved the attention, and she didn’t mind when she played along, laughing at a particularly impressive antic, or whistling jokingly when one of them feigned drowning. The boys thumped each other on the back in congratulations at the small tokens of attention she gave them, which inadvertently led to dunking fights and horseplay. Santana shook her head, and uncrossed and recrossed her legs; a few of the boys got distracted, and paid for it seconds later when their friends pushed them underwater.
Brittany laughed out loud when one of the boys splashed at Santana playfully, and she sent him a seething glare that had him swimming away in fear within seconds. No one wanted to be banned from the pool, and Santana had banned a few people for anything from running around, rough horseplay, or splashing her - but mostly, just people who rubbed her the wrong way.
It was Brittany’s turn on the diving board. She stepped up, kneaded the rough board with her toes to get a feel for it, and waited patiently for Santana’s attention. She got it within seconds - the boys’ antics went completely unnoticed as Santana turned her face to Brittany, smiled mischievously, and licked her lips expectantly. Brittany smiled, a small blush creeping in to her cheeks (she could tell Santana was using her sunglasses to shamelessly check her out), but, even though she was suddenly a little shy, she squared her shoulders and prepared the dive.
She took in a deep breath, briefly closed her eyes, blocked out the sounds around her, and let herself breathe in suspenseful silence for her upcoming feat. Things could go wrong quite unexpectedly, she knew that, and she hadn’t tried a dive like this before. She opened her eyes, glanced quickly at Santana (her expectant grin had faded slightly to one of worry), but then returned her attention to the board, and jolted forward in a quick sprint. She used her momentum to increase her power as she jumped on the edge of the board, and launched herself into free air. Instantly, she twisted her body into a corkscrew turn. Her eyes shut of their own accord as the world spun around her, the air swirling rapidly against her skin, drying the lingering drops. Wait, wait, wait, Brittany counted silently in her head, instinctively aware of the world around her. As soon as she hit the 720 mark of the turn, she pulled her legs up and added a last second 360 flip, just as her hands touched water. She breathed a sigh of relief as her hands, her head, her torso, and then the rest of her was almost lovingly enveloped by the waiting water. She torpedoed down into the silent depths and finally opened her eyes. Bubbles escaped from her mouth as she smiled. She lightly tapped the bottom of the pool with her hands, spun over, and launched herself off the pool floor.
She broke the surface with force, droplets of water flying away from her in an elemental halo as she flipped her hair over her head and took a breath. She couldn’t hide her grin as she caught half the pool-goers watching her with slack-jawed, amazed expressions. A few of them clapped, but the applause died down self-consciously, and people looked away. She didn’t mind. She had eyes for only one person.
Brittany bobbed up and down in the water eagerly, looking up hopefully as Santana smiled down at her, equal parts awed and relieved. The brunette took in Brittany’s smiling face with loving eyes, and though Brittany couldn’t see her eyes, she felt it nonetheless. As distracting as the blonde was for her summer job, Santana secretly adored having Brittany so close all day.
In a few quick strokes, Brittany was at the side of the pool, and pulled herself out gracefully. She looked over her shoulder and noticed Santana hadn’t taken her eyes off her as she pulled herself out of the water - a move that she knew showed off her rippling back and firm ass flawlessly. She grinned mischievously at the brunette as she grabbed a towel and slowly started to dry herself off, and Santana pulled her bottom lip between her teeth, let out a shuddering, difficult breath, and shifted her crossed legs uncomfortably. Brittany smirked; she knew exactly what she was doing, and was loving every second of it. She watched as Santana tightened her grip on her whistle, and realized she was contemplating starting her break early and banning everyone from the pool for twenty minutes - twenty long, uninterrupted minutes she could spend with Brittany in the poolhouse lounge or hot-tub hut. Brittany’s grin widened at the thought, but she knew Santana would get in trouble for emptying the pool before she was supposed to, and shook her head quickly.
Later, she mouthed suggestively, and Santana squirmed in her seat. Brittany decided to stop the torture, and stopped drying off. If Santana was going to start her break soon, she might as well make use of the last hour of the open water.
As she lay her towel back over pool chair, she heard Santana call out.
“Boys!”
Brittany looked over her shoulder at Santana’s strange, almost strained tone, and realized the brunette was desperately trying to distract herself from looking at Brittany.
“Oh, boys!” she called again, and this time, her tone was corrected to light, seductive, and playful. She pushed her sunglasses to the top of her head as the boys came splashing towards her from all sides, limbs flailing and pushing each other out of the way to get the best spot to adore the object of their teenage fantasies.
“I’m afraid I’ve dropped my whistle…” she said with a slight, theatrical pout, and uncrossed her legs. The boys looked up at her with expressions of drooling idolization.
“Where?” one of the more bold ones squeaked, and she gave him a look of amusement.
“Somewhere in the pool, of course. Could one of you go get it?” she asked, increasing her pout and batting her eyelashes. Brittany watched with a smile. “Winner gets a kiss,” she added almost as an afterthought, and her eyes involuntarily glanced over to Brittany. Her pout turned into an impish grin, and suddenly the pool erupted in desperate splashing as the boys pushed each other out of the way in their desperation to find the whistle. They ducked under, searching the pool floor, but the commotion around them was turning the water to bubbles and froth, making the whistle difficult to spot.
Brittany had no trouble. She was at the side of the pool within a fraction of a second, searching the bright blue floor. Her eyes found the silver whistle quickly, just as one of the older boys did, and trumpeted his discovery proudly. Almost as one, the boys dove under the water and made their way to the bottom of the deep end. Brittany took two steps back, sprinted forward, and launched herself into the water in a perfect, powerful dive that brought her into the path of all the boys. They pulled back underwater in shock, most of them losing their breath and swimming back up to regain it. A few of them kept on, but Brittany’s hand clutched the whistle elatedly as she curved over the bottom of the pool in her dive and made her way back up. She broke the surface with her fist proudly displaying the trophy and a grin shining up at Santana expectantly for her reward. Santana smiled.
“You’re going to have a lot of enemies at this pool, babe,” she said softly as Brittany climbed out of the pool, looking over the disgruntled and disappointed faces of the boys as they swam back dejectedly.
“That’s okay,” Brittany replied, and dangled the whistle from her fingers. “At least I got a kiss out of it.” She climbed up two steps onto Santana’s raised seat, bringing her closer and earning a smile, and presented Santana the whistle.
“You know I can’t kiss you on the lips,” Santana replied a little more softly, a hint of worry creeping into her voice at Brittany’s eagerness. Brittany soothed it with a smile.
“I know.” As Santana took the whistle, Brittany grabbed her hand, the whistle trapped between their palms, and used the grip to pull herself higher. She was inches from Santana’s face before the brunette realized what had happened. Santana’s eyes widened at the unexpected invasion of space and at the way her body responded of its own accord to Brittany’s proximity: her breath hitched, her heart skipped a beat, and her legs pressed together urgently to relieve the sudden ache between them.
Brittany grinned impishly as she surveyed the reaction, and tilted her head to the side, exposing her cheek expectantly. Santana smiled.
She leaned in and placed a soft kiss on Brittany’s damp cheek. Her lips lingered for a second to whisper, so no one but Brittany could hear, “Stop making me want you so much.”
Brittany’s naughty grin widened, and she let go of Santana’s hand to briefly place it on her thigh instead, squeezing playfully. “Never,” she whispered back, and then jumped down the two steps to land elegantly on the concrete. Santana smiled down at her lovingly.
Then one of the boy in the water sniggered, and a guarded, angry expression flashed across Santana’s face as she pierced the unruly teenager with her stare. His vulgar leer at Santana’s momentary weakness was quickly wiped off his face when he noticed her expression.
“Hey you, little wart,” Santana called with menace, and the boy gulped. “See what this is?” She spun the whistle around her fingers again. “This is the whistle that you, with your flimsy baby arms and flailing fungus feet, failed to bring me.” The rest of the boys tittered softly at their friend’s discomfort and humiliation. “And you know what this whistle can do?” Santana continued, as she brought it to her lips and whistled two piercing notes. “Ban you from the pool for the day, that’s what.”
The teenager looked up in shock and anger.
“That’s not fair!” he shouted.
“Life isn’t fair, pipsqueak,” Santana hissed.
The boy started to protest again, but another look from Santana stopped him in his tracks.
“Out. Now,” she said in a dangerously low voice. The teenager hung his head in defeat and pulled himself out of the water. He plopped into a plastic chair and crossed his arms sullenly, glaring at Santana. She ignored him, and turned to the rest of boys as they continued to laugh at their friend.
“What are all of you laughing at?” she said sharply, and they fell silent. Even though Santana was their peer in most of the boys’ cases, the fearful looks on their faces could have convinced anyone that they hadn’t even reached puberty. “You should be busy swimming down and trying to find your balls because they’re littering my pool floor. Get out of my sight,” she finished with venom and annoyance. They scrambled to follow her command, and left Brittany and Santana in peace.
“Jeez, San,” Brittany breathed.
“Whatever,” Santana replied with a nonchalant flip of her hair. “They were getting on my nerves.” She recrossed her legs and pressed them together with a sour expression on her face. It faded slightly when she looked back down at Brittany, who was still looking up at her with a smile. “What?”
“Nothing,” Brittany answered with a sly smile.
“Britt, what?” Santana said again, some of her annoyance leaking into her voice as she sighed in exasperation.
“You get cranky when you’re horny,” Brittany replied with a laugh, and before Santana could reply, she bounded away and dove into the water. She flipped on her back when the water enveloped her, and saw through the rippling surface that Santana continued to stare. She smiled underwater, and swam the length of the pool. Teasing Santana was always fun.
End of Part 1
A/N: "Post too large"! That's a first! :)
Find Part 2 here.