Hawaii

"I was thinking Hawaii," Tony grinned, his miraculously white teeth gleaming. He'd been smoking for years and I envied those pearly whites, almost as much as I longed for his deliciously serene, sky blue eyes. Dark hair and light eyes had always been a turn-on for me. Tony's hair was perpetually bleached, but I had forgiven him this cardinal sin years ago. So I just smiled back and nodded my head. Hawaii, sounds nice.

"Maui?" Paul inquired, raising his eyebrow slowly, suggestively. This was the move he did when he was trying to intentionally drive me wild; or when he was stoned out of his mind and overreacting to someone else's words. Like, say, now.

Put the blunt down, Paulie, walk away,

I thought with a childish grin. He coughed just at that moment, and made me feel guilty. But he laughed it off and ran a hand slowly through his dark hair. It had become overgrown, and I wanted so badly to cut it. He wouldn't let me though. He said 'sloppiness' was 'hot' this spring. Whatever that means. My Paulie has never been much of a fashion plate.

It was my turn to interject, so I shrugged and offered, "It all sounds wonderful, boys, send me postcards." There. I hope that makes them feel immensely guilty. Making lavish vacation plans in front of their poor, destitute friend. They should feel ashamed for talking about fucking Maui when I can barely make my car payments.

"But we want you to come," Tony offered, breaking me from my chain of bitter diversion.

"Excuse me?" I sputtered, coughing on the blunt and passing it back to Paul.

Tony reached for it, and smirked. "Yeah, we discussed this already. Right?" Paul nodded and continued to stare off into space. Fuck, he was gone. "In fact, we agreed that if you'll agree to it, we want to go in fifty-fifty on your ticket."

"I can barely pay my rent and car payments, Tone," I sighed. I wanted to wrip his snide little balls off for toying with me like this, but after ten years of friendship, you learned never to jump to conclusions when it came to Tony Lovato. "I can't pay for a trip to Hawaii, even if it's only fifty percent. I appreciate you thinking of me, but-"

"You wouldn't pay anything," he interrupted and I glared into those amazing eyes. "We'd be splitting your ticket and expenses, Paul and I. Not you, dumbass."

I stared at my best friend of the past ten years and simply gawked, open mouthed. "And you'd want to take me to Hawaii...WHY?" I practically screeched. I wasn't sure why I was so mad, but I was. I didn't appreciate Tony fucking with my head. 'Oh gee, V, let's just fly off to Hawaii and stay in a posh hotel, it won't cost a penny.' Right. Fuck you, Anthony John. Fuck you.

"I don't want to go to Hawaii without you, V," Tony spoke softly. We were sitting next to each other on the floor, and it wasn't much of a shock when he ran his hands slowly through my black hair. He did that, you know. That was Tony. He liked to touch, liked to feel on the people he loved. Especially when he was portraying his sincerity, which was often times questioned. Even by those of us lucky enough to truly know and love the guy. He was just like that. You never knew if he was being real, or trying to shit talk you. "I can't imagine a vacation without you, V," he continued. "And I don't want to."

I bit down on my lipring and stared into Tony's eyes. Was he being sincere? Fuck if I knew. So I simply went along for the ride. "I can't afford a trip to Hawaii, Tony. I can barely afford a trip to the supermarket, and fuck, I have to get new contacts and a new suit for work. Hawaii is just out of the question."

He nodded sympathetically and pushed a strand of my hair from my eyes. "I told you, kiddo, it's covered. We already had this discussion." He stared at me for a lengthy amount of time, and I knew this was a sincere moment. There was no dicking around, no let's play a prank on V. This was the real deal, Peter Steele.

"We had this discussion, huh?" I retorted, trying to lighten the mood, or at the very least, shake that unbending stare that he was fixing on my lips. He did this all the time: he'd get drunk, then get high, then he'd try to makeout with any girl in the proximity. I was the only girl tonight, so lucky for me. He was staring at my lips, licking his own. Tony wanted a kiss and I wasn't going to give it to him. Even if it meant Hawaii.

He licked his lips again and took a slow drag. "Well, 'we', as in Paul and I. Not you and me. Paul and I had this discussion." His words came out slow, as though he'd worked hard at conjuring his sentence; at communicating his point. I ignored the effort and turned to see Paul's reaction, but of course, Paul was passed out on the floor across from us, mouth hanging open, drool formulating on his chin. Lovely. Isn't he precious?

"Paul looks like he's done a lot of serious talking," I offered, trying to be sarcastic but the truth was, I knew I sounded biting and snide. I didn't want to offend Tony, though, so I retracted the statement with a quick peck on the cheek. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to sound like a bitch."

"It's okay," he smiled. "So what I meant was that Paul and I talked, and we really want to do this for you. You need a vacation more than the two of us combined. We both know that, V. We know. Fuck it, everyone knows. I don't want to go to Hawaii without you, so please say yes. I'll pay for one hundred percent of your ticket, fuck, if that's what it takes. You deserve to come." And that last statement traveled off his lips with a gigantic smirk. I slapped him and laughed softly. Only Tony could turn the most heartfelt of pleas into a perversion.

"It's a nice thought, Tony, but I can't," I sighed, still reeling at the words

you deserve to come

.

"Yes, you can," he countered, again running his hands through my hair. "Just say yes, V. You know you want to." He grinned with this, and began to slowly nibble on my neck. Fuck, I was fucked, literally and figuratively. He knew I couldn't resist his touch; and he knew that we'd always been much more than friends. I didn't say no to Tony Lovato often, and he knew this very well. He liked to use it to toy with me; his power. He was a fuckhead.

He IS a fuckhead

, I thought and tried to shake my head. He pulled away, gazing up at me with puppy-dog eyes. "I'm sorry, Tony," I offered as I stood up and tried to walk away from him. He grabbed my arm, and I turned to face him. "I can't just allow you to fly me to Hawaii, wine me, dine me, and then-"

"69 you?" he smirked. There it is. That smirk. That look. Why does he always do that? I fucking hate that. I hate him. "Alright," he sighed, pulling me towards him and wrapping his arms around my back. "What if we pay for your ticket and you do something for us, in return?"

"Like?" I spat and I knew that a statement that had stemmed from a '69' joke was not going to be anything too shatteringly brilliant. This was Tony on weed, trying to get some pussy.

He chewed on his lipring for a moment and then smiled, as though he'd discovered the answer. "You do everything we ask for that entire week. We pay for your ticket to Hawaii, and you-"

"Are your slave?" I finished with a frown. "I don't think so, Tony."

"Well, why not?" he demanded, tightening his grip around me and beginning to sway slightly. "Why not? I'm not saying that you'll have to do my laundry, but like, if I want a little-"

"Blowjob?" I winked. "Right. No way."

"V, please?" he pleaded, again putting on the little puppy routine. "It's just fun, you know, between friends. I know you want Paul, and we fuck, right? I mean, you and I, we fuck and you've never objected to it before. So what's the big deal? You come to Hawaii, we pay for your flight and shit, and you fuck Paul and you blow me and everyone's happy, right? We smoke weed until the sun comes up, run around naked on the beach, and you rub some lotion on my ass and everyone goes home with a smile on their face."

I laughed at the images that he had conjured with his words, and shook my head slowly. "You're asking me to be your sex slave, in exchange for a vacation." Cause he was. That's what he was asking, right? And since when did Paul want to fuck me? I'd been trying to get into the man's pants for the past two years, and the most I'd ever received for my efforts was a peck on the cheek. Friendship was great, yeah, but I wanted to fuck the boy like an animal.

"I'm offering you Paul," he beamed. "And you know you want him. So say yes, V. I mean, fuck, he's in on this too. It's not like he's opposed, V. He wants you to come with us. He wants you to-"

"Tony?" I tried to stop the nonsense. I felt like Susan Powter, I just wanted to shriek STOP THE INSANITY! "Paul's going to go to Hawaii, pick up some girl in a bar, fuck her brains out in the room and I'll have to hear the entire thing. Not that I don't love you, because I do, but what you're offering me is a week in Hawaii servicing your every sexual need. And while that's a lovely bargain for you, I'm not exactly seeing where this is such a steal of a deal for me."

Tony nodded and a serious expression came over his face. "I'm sorry that you think I'm offering you this trip just to get laid, V. It's not like that." There went the doggy eyes, the droopey expression. Fuck, I wanted to slap him. "I just really think that you'd be a great person to have along for the trip. I love you, Paul loves you. We're two guys going on a vacation together, I mean fuck it, it'd be nice to have a girl along. I don't...You don't have to do anything, V. Just please say yes? I really want you there."

And how could a girl say no to that?

* * *

"I'm sleeping, thank you very much," Paul groaned and placed the small white pillow back over his face. Tony giggled like a little girl and tried to reach across me to yank the pillow away.

I blocked his reach, and slapped his arm. "Stop! He's sleeping."

"He's always sleeping," Tony laughed and hopped around in his seat. "Fuck, we're on a plane on the way to fucking paradise and he's sleeping." It was true, our friend does love to sleep. Perhaps that's part of my crush on Paul: we love the sames things. From sleeping to eating to smoking a blunt under the stars. It's like we're meant for each other, or at least, that's what my friend Gee says. She says, "V, you and Paul are a match made in the fiery pits of love everlasting." Or something like that. God, I love Gee. I wish she was here instead of this dunce next to me that keeps doing the Macarena in his seat.

"Tony, STOP!" I practically shrieked. "You're driving me nuts and we haven't even been in the air for ten minutes."

"And Paul's already asleep," Tony pointed out, eyeing poor sleeping Paul curiously. "You know, this trip would kick fucking ass if Benji was here. He wouldn't yell at me to sit still."

"No," I pointed out with a grin, "he wouldn't. He'd crack open a window and climb out onto the wing and dance with you."

"Damn fucking straight," Tony laughed. "Fuck, I need a cigarette. I think that's why I'm so bouncy."

"I think you need to stop thinking about cigarettes, because we still have another five hours on this plane."

Tony nodded and bit his lip. "Fuck it, I'm going to sleep too. If I don't, I'll end up fingering one of the stewardesses when she walks by."

"TONY!" I shrieked, and passengers nearby were definitely staring at us. Fuck, I hope they didn't hear him. "What the fuck?"

He laughed and continued hopping in his seat. "Can I lean on you, V? Like, can I lay my head on you? Cause I think sleep is a good idea."

"Whatever," I groaned and tried to close my own eyes. Maybe a nap would make the flight go faster. Maybe a lobotomy would make it easier to sit next to Tony Lovato inside a coffin with wings. I dunno, but whatever was going to do the trick, it had yet to occur. But I definitely do feel sleepy so maybe if I just try to sleep, I'll be okay. Maybe if I just shut my eyes. Yeah. Yawn. That's it.

* * *

"Psst, V?" was what permeated my dreams. When I opened my eyes, there were blue gems staring me down, only inches from my face. "V, I can't sleep!" he whined. "I tried but like, I just fucking can't. And it's fucking boring. You're asleep, Paul's asleep, and this movie is the fucking worst thing I have ever seen. What the fuck is it, anyway?"

"Mmmidunnoiveseeping," I mumbled and turned my head away and angled my body toward Paul. He was quiet, whatever he was doing under that blanket right now, he was my favorite.

"Psst, V?" he repeated, and now his fingers were clawing my shoulder. "V, you awake?"

"Fuck Tony!" I spat and sat up, tossing my blue blanket to the floor. "I am now. Why can't you just watch the movie?"

Tony wrinkled his nose and scratched his chin. "Well, it's boring and I thought that maybe, if someone was awake to talk to me, time would pass faster." He scratched his nose, then his eyebrow and smiled. "And now you're awake, V. So how the heck are you?"

"Tired, Tony," I spat angrily, fumbling with the blanket at my feet. He leaned as far forward as the seat in front of him would allow, and bent down to pick up the blanket. He handed it to me and kept his grasp on the one edge, grinning. I nodded and he stretched the blanket back into place, across both of our laps. "Thanks," I smiled.

"You're welcome," he grinned. "Hey, one of the stewardesses looks like Britney Spears in 'Toxic'. Did you see her?" His eyes went wild. Britney was his favorite person on the planet, aside from maybe Jenna Jameson.

I glanced toward the front of the plane. "No?"

"She's the First Class stewardess. She's got the long blonde hair and the eyes and, V, I want to tap that ass."

I laughed at this, and he grinned softly. "I'm so glad you're here, V. I love you."

"I love you too, Tony," I yawned and patted his thigh. "Now go to sleep." I suppressed the urge to giggle as I commanded him, playfully, to fall asleep. He wrinkled his nose, shook his head slowly, and returned his eyes to the video screen in front of us. He stared straight ahead and I grinned. "It's that really horrible new Nicholas Cage film," I offered, knowing he hadn't yet figured out the film's title.

"I like Nick Cage," he smiled softly, chewing on his lip and figeting with the blanket. "I know you don't, but I like him."

"He sucks, Tony," I smiled. I closed my eyes and leaned my head down onto Tony's bony shoulder. "He sucks and I can't watch this."

"And now you can't fall back asleep, can you?" Tony taunted, leaning his head back against the chair and sighing deeply. "Fuck V, this sucks."

"You woke me up, asshole," I grinned, patting his chest and feeling his muscles tense. He continued to move around anxiously in his seat, and I knew he was uncomfortable. Airline furniture does nothing for a good back, and Tony had always struggled with back problems. He was probably in pain, I knew he wanted a cigarette, and being trapped in a plane for several hours, unable to even sleep sucks. I was right there with him on that one.

"I have an idea," he grinned. I stared at him for a long moment, not even wanting to ponder what a Tony idea to pass this time might be. In fact, I knew what the idea was when he scrunched his hips down in the seat and pulled the blanket up farther on his body. "I'll put the pillow over my lap and you can....warm me up?" he winked. I stared at him again, wanting to laugh, but feeling my body grow suddenly hot. What he was suggesting was like a fantasy. Not real. Not possible. "Please?" he begged.

"We'll get caught," I offered simply, not ever understanding where the words had come from. I wanted to say no, but long before I could speak again my hand was underneath the blanket and massaging his muscular thigh.

"Fuck, V," he sighed and relaxed back into the chair further. "Get on with it."

"Don't moan," I breathed loudly, a bit of terror in my voice. "I don't feel like being caught."

"Being caught is kinky," he breathed erratically as my hand slipped inside his boxers. "Mmm, maybe that stewardess will come join us. On her knees. Fuck, V, go faster."

I laughed at this. How absurd was this moment? Here I was, on an airplane headed for tropical paradise. Paul was asleep to our left, and Tony was hard as a coal train in my hand. Making noises. Fuck, he wanted to be caught, I was sure of it. He had shut his eyes, pillow placed strategically in his lap, but he continued to roll his head around and lick his lips. Moaning. I had barely began to stroke him underneath the blankets. Barely. He was hard and warm, and I wanted to touch myself. This was going to be the death of me, and I simply didn't know what to do. So I fidgeted in my seat, and continued to slowly pump on Tony's length.

"I can't take this," he hissed and I was forced back to reality. I stared at him as I felt him push my hand away and begin to zip his Dickies back up. "I'm going to the bathroom. Meet me in three minutes."

He stood and disappeared to the back of the plane. My heart raced and I knew I was moist between my legs. I wanted it. I had gone from hesitant to horny in less than ten minutes. This was insane. This was wrong. I couldn't go and meet him in the bathroom. We'd be caught for sure.

"You'd better go," came a scratchy growl in my left ear. "He doesn't like to wait."

I rolled my head to face Paul, staring into his clouded brown eyes. "What?" I stammered, entirely unsure if I had dreamt the entire exchange.

He grinned and shifted underneath his own blue blanket. "I can smell it on you," he smiled softly at me, running his hands through my hair. "You want him. So fucking go to the bathroom and fuck."

It was a matter of fact statement.

I stood up and felt a slap on my ass as I exited our seats and headed toward the bathroom. I tried not to think about anything as I stepped up to the door and knocked lightly, tried not to consider the millions of possibilities that could lie behind that door. Hundreds of thousands of which did not involve Tony.

"What's up?" he smirked as he tugged me quickly inside.

Thank goodness, I smiled to myself. All fear is now banished.

"You look horrified, V," he frowned. "What's wrong?"

"I was just thinking," I smiled reassuringly, "what if I knocked and it wasn't you in here?" He grinned. "But it's a moot point because it is you in here." I ran my hands up his back and over his shoulders, allowing him to hold me closely. We had no other options.

"And there's no room in here," he winked and acknowledged what I had been thinking. "So you get to sit on the counter while I fuck you." His eyes beamed at this. "And I'm going to fuck you hard, because I know your pussy is wet and ready for me."

"You have such a way with words," I laughed as he began to tug my skirt up. I did my best to part my legs and help him out, but there was just no room to move. He yanked on my panties and I heard a tear.

"Woops," he smirked and tossed the lace garment into the silver waste recepticle. "Sorry 'bout that."

"No biggie," I laughed as he lifted me onto the counter top. He was gentle, placing me down slowly and holding me close the entire time. He waited for me to smile and signal that I was alright, before he took a miniscule step back and began to unbuckle his belt. I watched him work the leather slowly, enjoying the moment immensely. It was sexy to watch a man with his belt, or so, I felt at that moment. It's suggestive. When a belt comes off, you know what's next. Right?

"You're quiet," he grinned as he allowed his Dickies and boxers to pool at his ankles. "What are you thinking?"

I shrugged. "That you're incredibly sexy when you're fumbling with your belt."

Tony nodded. "I adore you, V," he smiled and stepped forward again. The space was so tight, so cramped, he was practically inside me with just that one movement. "And I know you adore this," he smirked as he thrust quickly inside me. I was already wet, he had been right. There was no need to waste time with preliminaries: the quick handjob back in the seats had worked my body to a frenzy. Why? I would never know. Perhaps I wanted Tony more than I was consciously aware. Perhaps I was simply undersexed.