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[rage_andlove]

Something isn't right. He realises that before he's even awake. He's been having fractured, strange dreams and he wakes up, pressing the curtain of hair back from his face. He frowns. He stretches. He suddenly

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[first_pink_lady]

When Rizzo stumbled into the kitchen for morning coffee, it had only taken a few moments, even before the caffiene kick, to realize that the island had put a fucking magical bee in everyone's bonnet. Again. Luckily, she still had her own feminine figure, thank Jesus, and it had been her second thought to go check, coffee in hand, that Paul was still, well, Pauly and not Polly.

If she also wants to see the soldier fella again, well, that was just convenient, and may or may not have a correllation to the slightly increased frequency of her visits to Paul at the clinic.

She ducks her head in, ready to move on to find Paul if the guy's still asleep, only to freeze and stare, agape, at the blonde in his place. She might've thought that he'd switched beds, if it weren't for the look on his - her - face. Her face splits into a grin, and she slid into the room. "Well, ain't you just a doll."

[first_pink_lady]

Honestly, she didn't even fucking know - it had been a really goddamn long dry spell. Plus, she never felt quite so much like herself as when she was making impulsive and risky decisions, and, right now, it was a rush like nothing else as she ducked down and pressed her lips against Tunny's, not soft and gentle but firm and thorough. Her hand slipped up from the pillow to his hair, the long blonde strands as distinctly new to her experience as the soft lips and lack of stubble.

[rage_andlove]

He's been thinking about it and he can't remember the last time that somebody kissed him. It was probably back in Jingletown. Probably. It's a kiss, a good kiss, hard and firm on his mouth and he makes this little sound against her lips before he can catch himself.

[first_pink_lady]

It was definitely a feminine sound, but it was a sexy one, especially when she knew that she was the one that caused it. And, because Betty Rizzo wasn't one to do things by halves, she determined to get another one just like it, and slid her hand down the curve of his side, under the blankets, and then went back up to slide over the swell of a breast. Under the blankets, over the shirt, she thought, pretty goddamn clearly, all things considered. Oddly, she also thought pretty fucking succinctly that at least she knew how to grab a tit - none of this slamming in with the palm shit, or squeezing like you were trying to juice a lemon that guys apparently learned in locker rooms from other boys who'd never gotten to second base.

[rage_andlove]

That touch provokes another sound, breathy against her mouth, a shift of his hips against the bed, an arch of his back to press into her hand. He swallows hard.

God, he could take more of that.

[first_pink_lady]

Christ, that was satisfying, and her body responded accordingly as she thumbed the ridge of his nipple through his shirt and felt her own take an interest. There was something enthralling about the fact that she was in the driver's seat here, something no fella had ever really let her get away with. Her lips slipped to his jaw, kissing along the line of it as she moved more fully on to the bed and slung a leg over his hips, straddling him and in a far better position for easy access.

[rage_andlove]

He can't actually believe that this is happening. He doesn't put up a fight though, doesn't protest and the way she's touching him, even though his shirt is enough to cause a flood of warm and wet between his legs that brings a dark blush to his cheeks.

"Oh, fuck."

[first_pink_lady]

"Betty," she said against his lips, hands slipping from his chest down to grip the hem of his shirt to pull it up. When she pulled back from him to drag it off, she couldn't help rocking back against his thighs beneath her - she was only fucking human, and Tunny was hot most days, but there was something goddamn fucking unfair that even as a leggy blonde gal he could make Rizzo this needy and aching so damn fast. "Call me Betty, Joe."

[rage_andlove]

"Fuck, Betty," says Tunny, stripped out of his shirt so he's half naked. The instinct is to cover himself but he fights that, lying there in his shorts and his ink and looking up at her, his thighs squirming back against hers.

[first_pink_lady]

Her first reaction is to tilt her head and just stare for a moment, breathy and trying really fucking hard not to just rub herself off while she takes in Tunny - because it's still Tunny, somehow, and that she knows that and thinks it matters so much rings an alarm bell she knows she's going to have to figure out later. But right now there's just those damn tantalizing tattoos and skin and he's fucking hers for the moment, and him saying her name makes it all the better. She ducked down and started mouthing a trail from his throat, over his collarbone, devilishly between his tits, and down to his belly button, shoving away sheets as she went.

[rage_andlove]

And that's when it happens. Panic clenches in the pit of his stomach and he clutches at the sheet with both hands. The wound healed into a pretty neat scar Which doesn't mean he can look it. Which doesn't mean she can.

"Betty," he says, ashamed at how his voice sounds. "Don't. I...I can't."

[first_pink_lady]

She froze, and in that moment she'd never felt like such a world-class slut. There are worse things I can do, then go with a boy or girl or two. Shit, shit, shit - she'd been in someone else's body before on the island, and it was fucking awful. He was vulnerable - and, even worse, he was vulnerable and she liked him like a schoolgirl with a crush, and here she was, jumping his bones like a whore the first chance she got.

And it had just been a stupid dare - he didn't really want her, not like this, maybe not at all. Fuck. She scrambled off him, off the bed, clutching up her purse.

[rage_andlove]

Oh, Jesus. In that moment, he feels like such a fuck-up. He snatches for his shirt, tugging it over his head and knowing that if she runs, he's not going to be able to catch her.

"Betty. Wait, okay? It's...it's not you...okay? It's not."

[first_pink_lady]

She wants to go out that door and find a bottle and hole herself up in her room in the Boarding House. Or, drink half, then slink around until she finds a guy who would fuck her, because... she didn't want to finish that thought, dreading the thought of whether that made her just trashy or no good as they'd always said she was.

"It's not you it's me?" She snorted in derision, and hated that she was hoping so furiously that he meant it, even if she knew it was a line. "Original." Those weren't fucking tears burning at the back of her eyes, she tried to convince herself, even as she tried to act as if she was only irritated and horny rather than whatever the fuck she was actually feeling.

[rage_andlove]

"It's all me," snaps Tunny, face burning with hot colour, hair tumbled around his face. "I can't, okay? None of this is me. I'm not...I'm not." He bites his lip and tries to force it out, feeling like he's going to vomit on the tail of it. "I'm fucked up. Everything is fucked up. And..." He looks down at his lap, at the bandages that he hasn't managed to lift yet.

"You can't see."

[first_pink_lady]

She looked at him, scowling, but her eyes slipped down to his legs under the blanket, following his. Ah. Her expression didn't change, but her eyes softened somewhat, giving her away as they always tended to do. "If you still had all your junk," she said, and there was something trilling dangerously through her veins like relief and she despised it, "I'd accuse you of this bein' an elaborate cover for not bein' able to get it up."

There was guilt twisting in her gut, still, because she'd taken advantage of him like every numbskull creep she hated. Slut, her mind provided, and it sounded suspiciously like a mental Patty Simcox.