Serves You Right for Kissing Little Girls [Big Love]

Serves You Right for Kissing Little Girls
by Jennifer-Oksana
Fandom: Big Love
Rating: PG-13
Pairing: Heather/Rhonda, Heather/Sarah UST
Spoilers: 7/9/07 Big Love Ep
Disclaimer: Olsen & Schaffer do the whole polygamous Mormon thing, HBO shows it. I’m none of the above and make no cash. Dresden Dolls for summary/cut text/title.
Summary: If you miss me, mister, why do you keep leaving? If you trick me, mister, I will make you suffer…

So they were listening to Heather’s copy of Anna Nalick’s Wreck of the Day when Rhonda finally spoke up directly to Heather. And, the way Heather expected, it was in a really bizarre way.

“Sarah’s really disrespectful of you,” Rhonda said in her strange, flat voice, looking at Heather in this kind of weird way. Heather wasn’t judging, though; Rhonda had been engaged to Roman Grant. That was the kind of thing that would warp anyone. “If I were you, I’d be offended.”

“Well, you know what they say — the church is perfect, the people aren’t,” Heather said faintly.

“The way she flaunted her involvement with that creepy boy was awful,” Rhonda continued, as if Heather hadn’t said anything. “You saw them. Necking shamelessly.”

Heather had. Heather wanted to stop thinking about it, how Sarah’s mouth had fastened to Scott’s, tongues practically leaping, the way her hand had slipped around to the back of his neck. Clinging.

“I told her Scott probably wants me and Sarah to make out in front of him or something. What normal twenty-eight year-old guy want to date someone our age, right?” Heather said, hoping that her voice didn’t sound funny and breathless to Rhonda the way it did to her.

Rhonda paused and looked at Heather. “If he’d asked, would you have?” she asked, tilting her head.

“Would I have what?” Heather countered, totally aware of what Rhonda was asking.

“Would you have kissed Sarah?” Rhonda asked. “Because you hear stories at the compound sometimes. Old Roman’s too jealous, but some of the men want their sisterwives to kiss for them. And some of the women do. Sometimes, you hear they do it to please their husbands, but really, they’re pleasing themselves.”

Heather blinked. Rhonda had this way of talking and looking at you that made your head go kind of swimmy and hypnotized. It was really weird.

“I totally wouldn’t have,” Heather said, trying to remember the original point of the conversation, which was that both Rhonda and Heather could see that Scott was bad news. Sarah, of course, couldn’t. Sarah could never see who her true friends were until she was hurt again. “I don’t like Scott.”

“Me neither,” Rhonda said with a smile, suddenly resting her chin on Heather’s shoulder. Her hand was on Heather’s, very friendly and close. “What about me?”

“I like you,” Heather said. And she wasn’t sure if that was true or not, but Rhonda was being really friendly, and she’d been psychologically traumatized by Roman Grant and her polygamist parents. It would be hurtful to push her away now.

“No,” said Rhonda, looking at Heather as directly as she could. “I mean, would you kiss me? Right now? Just to see why girls kiss girls? Because it’s unnatural, but I always wonder why they do. Maybe if we kissed each other, we could understand.”

Oh, heck. Oh, frick and frack.

“Are you joking?” Heather asked, staying very very still because there were suddenly butterflies in her tummy, and her heart was pounding.

Rhonda shook her head and sort of…nuzzled, Heather guessed, nuzzled was the right word for it…Heather’s shoulder.

Yep, those were more butterflies.

“It’s okay,” Rhonda said softly, right next to Heather’s ear. “It’s not for real.”

Heather shivered, feeling funny everywhere. “But even the appearance of sin is,” she said. “Well, it’s not right.”

“I won’t tell,” Rhonda promised, her thumb rubbing little circles on the skin between Heather’s thumb and pointer finger, sending little shivery spangles up Heather’s skin. “It’s just to know.”

Why did it feel so good, Rhonda tickling her hand like that? Heather didn’t understand. Her sister said that was why it was so hard to be chaste and keep sweet in the world of men. Boys would just touch you and you’d want to do crazy things, the other Mia Maids would whisper at the slumber parties where Heather was always left out and alone.

Boys never made Heather want to do anything except roll her eyes. She imagined getting married, like all normal girls. And of course her future husband was cute, and an RM, and had a temple recommend, and they’d have kids and Heather wouldn’t work outside of the home until they were older.

Heather just couldn’t imagine any boy she knew doing this to her hand. Or she could, but she wouldn’t have imagined it would make her panties feel a little tight. In a good way.

“Just to know,” Heather said uneasily. “You promise?”

“I promise,” Rhonda said, closing her eyes and opening her mouth into a little o. Heather leaned forward nervously and kissed her. Quick.

“That’s like how Adaleen kissed me when she didn’t want to, except she did it on the cheek,” Rhonda said, opening her eyes and making a face. “Don’t you know how to kiss?”

Heather swallowed. “I’ve only been allowed to date for three months,” she said. “And I don’t like any of the boys in my stake.”

“You’re so strange,” Rhonda said with a condescending roll of her eyes. “You’re supposed to do it like this.”

She leaned forward and feather brushed her lips against the corner of Heather’s mouth, tickling. Heather felt her head turn, almost like, automatically, to feel more of Rhonda’s lips, because they felt nice.

And Heather pressed a little harder, because it felt really nice. Like, maybe kissing wasn’t as weird and drooly as she thought. Because she could, like, roll just one of Rhonda’s lips between both of hers, and that was really good.

Or kiss her on the corner of her mouth, or on her jaw, or just go back to normal, mouth to mouth kissing. Especially now that Heather was squeezing Rhonda’s hand. A lot.

She could like, feel Rhonda’s breathing, like they would sometimes breathe each other’s air, and Heather used to think that was kind of sick, but maybe not. Maybe if you just had someone you liked, who wasn’t an immature jerk like Jarod Hansen who just wanted to drool on your neck, it felt good like this.

Sarah was a good kisser. Heather knew; she’d seen her kissing now. She wouldn’t drool. Or try to ram her tongue down Heather’s throat. But it might be okay if Sarah tried to bite her earlobe. Jarod used his teeth too much, and Heather had never thought biting would be part of the Celestial Kingdom, even for seven minutes.

And was it, like, automatic, the way Heather was sort of rocking forward, moving closer to Rhonda? And the part where Heather was putting her hand on Rhonda’s face because Rhonda’s face was nice and soft and she wanted to keep her close.

“You’re a really good kisser,” Rhonda whispered. “Maybe we could marry Ben and you could do this with me.”

For the first time in her life, Heather could see a good reason to be a polygamist. She stroked Rhonda’s face carefully.

“Can I kiss you some more?” Heather asked, her voice sounding different. Like she had a dry mouth, except her mouth wasn’t really very dry. “I never understood why people wanted to kiss boys until now.”

Rhonda giggled, kind of. “I’m a good kisser, too, aren’t I?” she asked.

“I think so,” Heather said, reaching out to keep her touch on Rhonda. She had really nice skin; lots of girls got zits, but Rhonda had nice skin and really soft hair. “Did it feel nice for you, too?”

“Yes, it was nice,” Rhonda said in her Rhonda voice, soft and hypnotizing and a little weird. “Do you really want to do it again?”

Heather nodded. She tugged on Rhonda’s hand until both of them were sitting on Heather’s narrow little twin bed. Then she leaned forward and kissed Rhonda, harder this time, and Rhonda’s mouth opened.

And it was wrong. Heather knew French kissing was a form of necking and that the General Authorities frowned upon it, but her tongue fit so well in there. Not like, jabbing and thrusting the way a boy would do it, but just the tip of her tongue brushing against Rhonda’s and Rhonda’s tongue slipping into her mouth as Rhonda’s fingers tickled Heather’s hand and arm, petting it and making all the soft shivery feelings come back and go kind of hot.

And really good. So good that Heather made a little noise and felt…different. Tingly. And kind of warm.

Down there.

Rhonda suddenly pulled back. “Did you have an orgasm?” she asked in a nasty little voice, nothing like any Rhonda-voice Heather had heard so far. “I can see your nipples through your shirt. You had an orgasm.”

Heather was flabbergasted, folding her arms around herself and flushing because actually it felt a little sensitive and good.

“No, I didn’t! You don’t have those just from kissing,” she said, frowning.

“You do if you’re a lesbian predator,” Rhonda said, eyes narrow and focused directly on Heather’s boobs, like they were covered in puke or something. “That’s how you lesbians do it out in the world, isn’t it? You pretend not to know anything about girls, and then you get innocent runaways like me to kiss you. That’s nasty and dirty. And you didn’t even do the polite thing and let me have one, too.”

“Rhonda, I’m not a lesbian. And I didn’t have an orgasm,” Heather said, feeling her head spin. “You’re talking crazy.”

“I’m gonna tell Sarah,” Rhonda said viciously. “I think she should know that she’s being targeted by a lesbian who’s only her friend because she wants to seduce her. Sarah’s my cousin, after all.”

“Please stop saying that,” Heather said faintly, tears welling up in her eyes and a sick feeling in her stomach. “I promise, I’m not a lesbian predator. I’m not trying to prey on you. I want to help you.”

Rhonda snorted, getting off the bed and looking down at Heather, superiority in her every gesture and twisted bit of her lip.

“I could tell when you were watching them kiss that you were one,” Rhonda said, back to her weird, evil sing-songy voice. “Even your church says it’s an abomination, but you liked it, putting your tongue in another girl’s mouth. Necking and petting in a dyke way.”

Heather choked back a hysterical sob. “Stop it,” she begged in a tiny whisper.

“You’re gonna help me now,” Rhonda said triumphantly, eyes shining. “Or everyone’s going to know that you’re a filthy dyke who has nasty fantasies about Sarah.”

Somehow, Heather made her lip stop trembling. By biting down on it really hard, she guessed. Arms still folded around her, she nodded.

Rhonda put her arms around Heather and kissed her on the ear. “It’s okay,” Rhonda whispered, and Heather swallowed hard because Rhonda was a bad person, maybe the worst person Heather had ever met, but Rhonda touching her made Heather feel funny down there all over again. “I promise I’ll help you. You just have to do what I say.”

Heather whimpered. And it was creepy, because it wasn’t all because she was scared, either.

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