salrizzo:
He was in such a drug-induced hangover that he barely remembered inviting Skyler over in the first place, their argument at the parade throwing him into a bender that sent him across the Atlantic and shacked up inside of his mother’s Italian villa. Two weeks was a long time, but definitely not his longest run with hardly a few hours of sobriety. It was safe to say he was hazy, and as he allowed the male inside, he didn’t quite care how his disheveled appearance exemplified that. “What?” Rizzo mumbled, rubbing his eyes with one hand as he loomed over the stack of pictures. “Minchia, I don’t even remember half of these. This supposed to be my ‘welcome home’ gift?” he quirked a brow mischievously, lazily extending a hand before hooking his fingers onto the waistband of Skyler’s pants. “’Cause I had somethin’ else in mind.”
Skyler wasn’t sure what he expected, though this had definitely been part of it. Rizzo’s hands on him were always part of the deal when he showed up, and this time wasn’t going to be any different. Their argument during the holiday was seemingly in the past, but it wasn’t like they hadn’t gone longer without seeing each other. “Something like that,” he huffed, pulling one out and holding it up to show Rizzo before they could fall onto the bed, “Remember this one? You let me do you hair. It was the best look you’ve ever had.”















