Summary. It'll be two weeks in paradise. Two weeks with fruity drinks, sunny beaches, and hot girls. And you know it's crazy, you know it's wrong. But the way that bikini fits her body… You can't keep your eyes away. And it's not like you're doing anything illegal, you're only appreciating beauty. It's just a tiny, trivial, insignificant detail that that bikini belongs to your best friend.

A/N. Hey guys and girls! I've been having this idea in my head for a while now, and I just couldn't not write it! Also, Artie is not in a wheelchair in this story, just so you know. And this is a Brittana story. So Brittana is endgame and all that of course! Also, my first language is not English so sorry for any mistakes!

Disclaimer. I do not own anything, except my imagination and my computer. And my endless desire to write lesbian love stories of course.

Prologue

Two weeks in paradise. Were you supposed to say no? Tell her that it'll probably end badly, and that you'll get home from there all messed up and sad. Were you supposed to know how it would all turn out? You would've told her no, if you knew. You would've kindly said that it's for the best, for the sake of your friendship, that you won't come. You would've done something, anything differently if you knew you two would make every mistake you possibly could do in two weeks, to destroy an already incredible friendship.

Sometimes you don't like people. They can be weird and ruthless, and mean. But sometimes they can be amazing. Like your best friend. She's pretty amazing. She's really cool and brave and if someone tells her to climb Mount Everest, she'd do it. Not because she's stupid and foolhardy and reckless. But because she's adventurous. And she likes challenges. She's also very kind. One time you had a lot to do in college, and so you sat up the entire night studying for a test for a class that you hated. The teacher was awful and you were already preparing yourself to fail. So she came over and stayed with you the entire night. She brought chocolate and energy drinks and then she helped you study. You didn't fail; you got a B+.

She has a big heart and she cares about people she doesn't even know. That makes it very easy to like her. Everyone pretty much loves her. She has a lot of friends and she always puts other people before herself.

It's not only the inside of your best friend that is beautiful. She has a really gorgeous outside too. Like, really really gorgeous outside. She's a dancer. She dances a lot, which means that she has a killer body with abs and shit. And she's really flexible. Guys love her. Especially in the club. They always create a circle around her whenever she decides to bust some moves.

You find your best friend very hot, but really, who wouldn't? She has long waving blonde hair, clear blue eyes and perfect pink lips. She's got biceps and abs and thigh muscles. Her legs are long and slender and strong.

Okay, look.

You like art.

You appreciate art. You're an arty person.

And it doesn't really matter where it comes from; art is art, right?

So it doesn't mean that you look at her as more than just a best friend. It doesn't mean that you will fall on one knee and ask her to spend the rest of her life with you in a house with white picket fences and screaming children. You're only admiring her body. Her body is art. Art is art.

Because, really, the body is to die for. You'd do anything to have that body.

But since you're not the owner of said body, you'll be fine with just looking at it from time to time. Your eyes will move from perfectly fitting jeans to an impressive cleavage to long fluttering eyelashes and soft blonde waving hair.

It's nothing you should be ashamed of. And it's definitely nothing you should tell anyone about.

And really, there's nothing to tell.

III

And now Brittany's asked you to come with her to Hawaii for two weeks. You were a bit hesitant at first, before she told you she's got it as a present from her rich and kind of famous dad; a reservation to a hotel room that consists of two bedrooms, one living room area and a kitchen. So it's more like an apartment. And apparently you'll have the ocean right outside the living area windows.

She's promised you long lovely beaches with sand that'll warm your toes, fruity drinks that'll tastes just like heaven, and half naked girls lying around on sun beds, getting their tan on. Even though your cheeks probably lit their own little bonfire at that last particular promise, you feel the excitement flowing through your body.

You were unable to say no. Even though you had to take off work and switch shifts with that annoying brunette with no eyebrows that always seem to mess up everyone's coffee orders. You could only take off one week though, so you owe her a whole week at that coffee shop when she decides to take a vacation later. You're not looking forward to it. But there's a VIP hotel apartment waiting for you and your best friend. And it's not like you can say no to that.

She's invited Quinn too, because there are two bedrooms after all and Quinn is also your best friend. You're probably a tad bit closer to Brittany but Quinn is still part of your 'unholy trinity' that Brittany so charmingly made up once. It was a night when you had had one too many of those fisherman shots at that hot night club around the campus where you all go to college together. That night was wild.

She also invited Quinn's boyfriend. Since Quinn apparently can't live two weeks without him. It's actually pretty gross, how obsessed they are with each other. But it's okay, because Artie's actually pretty nice. He's actually pretty wild. And in contrast to Quinn, Artie's very bold and energetic. Although he's wild, he's actually a big nerd inside. But you like that about him.

Brittany always calls you a closeted nerd because one time she caught you reading a fanfiction about Superman and Batman in the library in school. In the story, they were in love, it was a forbidden love. It was painfully awesome. But Brittany thought it was funny and since then, you're 'the nerd'. Artie likes superheroes too, maybe even a little more than you do, but Brittany only calls you 'the nerd'.

Artie takes the same literature class as you. Sometimes you pass notes when the teacher is too occupied with her lame PowerPoint to notice.

You like them together, he's good for Quinn. And Quinn is good for him. Even though they're so different, it somehow works out really well.

You know that this trip will be awesome because you'll be surrounded with awesome people. It's like going out in the weekend with your friends, but this will be for fourteen days in a warm place where you don't know anyone else. It's made to be fantastic.

III

There are a lot of differences between Brittany and you. For example; you're brunette, she's blonde. You hate animals, she loves animals. You love cars and she loves motorbikes. You always watch what you eat while she can eat five chocolate bars without worrying. You love summer, she loves winter. You're gay, and she's straight.

And even though you're so different, she's claimed to share a bed with you. It's pretty obvious that Brittany and you were gonna share a bedroom since Quinn and Artie are sharing the other one. But just the fact that she screamed out "I'm bunking with Santana!" made your cheeks burn and you had to hide your smile in the palm of your hand.

Quinn clicked her tongue and told you she's sharing a room with Artie. As you breathed out a 'gross' that was intended for only Brittany to hear, Quinn apparently also heard it and hit the back of your head with her palm.

"Bitch, that hurt."

"Shut up, Santana."

Brittany has always been the one to stop your fights. You and Quinn can go on forever with teasing each other, but Brittany (thank god) manages to make you stop before one of you ends up with lost teeth. Or worse, lost weaves of hair.

That has actually happened. One time you and Quinn got into a fight about what movie to watch on a sleepover, sometime last year. You wanted to watch The Avengers but Quinn wanted to watch How to Lose a Guy in Ten Days. You thought her movie was lame and she thought your movie was even lamer. Anyway, it started off just verbally, but after a while, it started to get physical.

Quinn decided it was fair to pull at your hair, as you were trying to bite into her arm.

See, this could have been one of those lesbian porn dreams where the fight ends in hot lesbian sex. But unfortunately, that was not how it all went down.

She tugged too hard, and before you knew it, she a lose strand of dark hair in her hand.

You could say that you won the fight though, since she felt so guilty that she, in the end, gave you the authority to choose the movie.

III

You packed way too much. You only realize that when you're already at the airport. You're struggling to pull the suitcase behind you and the amount of swearwords that have left your mouth in the last couple of minutes, are evidence enough. It's freaking heavy.

When a man in his older 50's doesn't move out of your way, you lose it.

You pull the handle, and your suitcase makes a jump over the man's feet, effectively crashing his toes on its way. You don't even apologize as you keep walking forward to catch up with your friends.

Brittany, Quinn and Artie are standing in line, talking and laughing. You walk straight up to them and drop your suitcase in front of your feet. You huff out a breath and look around you aimlessly. There's people freakin' everywhere and they're kind of pissing you off.

"You okay, sweetie?"

The voice is sweet and full of concern. You look up into crystal blue eyes.

"Yeah," you huff and Brittany just giggles.

"You shouldn't have brought all those comic books, Santana."

You look at her perplexed, "I didn't?"

Brittany grins at you and you finally understand that she's messing with you. You poke your tongue out and she just keeps grinning until the queue is moving and you have to get on the plane.

III

"I've heard they have Breadstix in Hawaii. Do you know if that's true?"

You're leaning over your seat and waiting patiently to hear her answer. Brittany just rolls her eyes at you while smiling. "I don't know, dork. We'll just have to see."

Sometimes she looks at you like she thinks you're a little dumb but still adorable. And you guess that's why she keeps calling you 'dork'. And even though you don't like people calling you names, you don't mind her calling you that at all.

Quinn and Artie got the seats behind you and you get reminded of that when you feel a foot getting kicked to the back of your seat.

"Stop it," you hiss.

Artie leans forward, between the seats, as he pokes you in the arm. "Did you really bring those comic books?"

You roll your eyes when you hear Brittany giggle next to you. "No," you respond.

"Bummer," he says before disappearing back to his own seat.

You look to your left and she gives you a wink before picking up the airplane menu from its case.

III

You wake up somewhere above the Pacific Ocean. You're not sure for how long you were asleep but when you look around, you see that all of your friends are still passed out. You rub your eyes and thank yourself for not putting on make up this morning.

After a while of looking out the window, you get bored.

"Brittany," you whisper while softly tapping her knee.

No answer.

"Britt."

"Brittany?" You poke her cheek.

"Huh?" Slowly she flutters her eyes open and you smile at how confused she looks. "What?" she says annoyed.

"I'm bored."

"So?"

"Tell me a funny story."

"No," she mumbles.

"Please?"

Brittany sighs and sits up straighter in her seat. "Where are we?"

You knit your eyebrows together. "On a plane?"

"Ha-ha," she says but then she chuckles. "You've got a mark on your cheek," she says and you widen your eyes.

"What, where?" You touch your cheek but you don't really know where the mark is so you're just rubbing everywhere.

"It's there," she says and pokes your cheek with her finger. "It's round. I think it's from the button on your jacket. Did you sleep on it?"

She giggles and you blush. "Yeah, guess so," you say as you try to cover up your cheek with your hand.

III

You take a bus to the hotel. Apparently Artie speaks some Hawaiian and spent the whole bus ride talking to the chauffeur. It felt like they didn't completely understand each other, though, but the chauffeur let you ride for free since he thought you seemed nice.

When you get your bags into the lobby, you take a moment to look around. The walls are white and the floor is clean. It smells like a combination of salt and mango and when you let your gaze travel towards the windows, your heart skips a beat. The ocean outside the windows is blue and wide and the beach is long and shiny. You stare for a while, letting your brain catch up to this new view.

"Wow," your best friend breathes out next to you, and you can only nod your head in agreement.

You stand there for a while, next to each other. She keeps uttering small words like 'oh my god' and 'shit'. And if your mouth weren't so busy just hanging wide open; you would have uttered a few of those words too.

She takes your hand and tells you that it's best you check in. You agree and while she loops her arm through yours, you try not to explode out of happiness.

You can't even pronounce the name of this hotel but you don't really care. Because: This. Is. Paradise.

III

So, this was kind of a prologue… just kind of getting an idea what the story will be about.

Like, no like? Good start? Should I continue?