Two days. Two days until Emily and Naomi left for Mexico together, and Emily still wasn't allowed to meet Naomi's aunt. Pauline. Gina, Naomi's mother, had explained to the redhead that when it came to lifestyles, she and her sister were more different than Emily and Katie. Emily had found this hard to believe, but had acquiesced to Gina's wishes and had stayed in Bristol while the Campbells travelled to London for the weekend. On Monday morning, bright and Early, Emily would wake up beside Naomi and shortly thereafter they would board a plane that would take them far away from Bristol's most recent drama- Freddie's coma.
Truthfully, Emily couldn't stand to see other people upset, and so she was glad for the opportunity to get away for a while, even if leaving everybody in the midst of such tragedy did make her feel kind of lousy.
Sighing, she ran a hand through her long hair and looked around. She was watching Gina's house, and surprisingly she was alone, as Gina had asked her friends politely to clear out for the weekend, having sensed Emily's blooming discomfort in the communal environment without Naomi around. It was still weird, though, being by herself in an empty house.
No sooner had the words crossed her mind, a knock on the door jarred Emily out of her thoughts. She stood and headed downstairs when the knock sounded again, this time much more frantic.
"Hello?" Emily called out nervously, seeing a shadow move in the window by the door. "Who's there?"
"Emilio Lezztavez, open up!" came a sing-song-y voice from the other side of the door. "I see you r bike out here!" Her eyes widened; the nickname was familiar, the voice calling her by it even more so. Emily rushed to the door and opened it to find a fairly arseholed James Cook standing on the front step with a pack of beers tucked securely beneath one arm.
"What the fuck?" was all Emily could manage as Cook easily brushed past her and stepped inside, dropping his tattered coat onto the floor by the door and setting the beer down beside it. He smiled at her, and Emily licked her lips nervously. "Cook… shouldn't you have gone back to jail by now?" she asked tentatively. Cook grinned.
"Sodding pissants can't hold me for very long!" he said with a grin, opening his arms. "Now, come give the Cookie Monster a hug, eh?" he asked, laughing. Emily obliged and hugged him, both because she had missed him since the party in Freddie's shed and because she didn't want him to fall over and hurt himself. "Where's Naoms?" he asked, patting her on the top of the head before releasing her and plunking down onto the battered sofa.
"She had to go see some family in London before we leave." She explained. Cook looked confused, then the look subsided and h e nodded, grabbing a beer out of the 12-pack he'd brought.
"Right. Mexico." The boy said with a smirk, popping the can open and taking a large swig. He swallowed. "And she left you all alone here for the weekend?" he asked, suddenly looking concerned.
"Her aunt doesn't know she's gay." Emily muttered, sitting down next to Cook and cracking open a beer for herself. She took a drink and made a face- it was astoundingly bitter. "And I didn't want to pretend to be just friends." She said after a moment, her voice nearly as bitter as the beer. To her, it felt like a part of Naomi was still hiding,, and Emily wasn't sure if that part would ever stop.
Cook must have sensed her frustration because he patted her shoulder, giving her a small smile. "It's okay, Emilio. At least you got the girl…" he trailed off, and Emily could hear a faint tinge of sadness in his words. It was true, even though Freddie was in the hospital Effy was there, day and night, watching over him. She had even stopped partying as much with the group, instead electing to spend her time playing Scrabble with Karen, the two young women hoping against all hope that Freddie would eventually wake up. Even though he wasn't conscious of anything, Freddie still had Effy, and Cook had… well, Cook had beer, Emily thought morosely.
"So… what are you doing, out and about still?" she asked him in an attempt to change the subject. She really couldn't stand to see anyone upset, least of all Cook, who was one of the most high-spirited people she knew. And besides, she really was curious as to how he had managed to avoid staying locked up. Cook grinned his signature grin.
"Oh, you know ol' Cookie, eh? Just looking for a good time." He said. "Doesn't look like you're having too good a time here, by yourself." He pointedly glanced at Emily. "So come on, Ems, what d'ya say we throw you a little going away party?" he asked, leaning forward. He patted her knee. "Let's go out, drinks are on me. I think we both could use some cheering up." Cook added the last sentence after Emily had bit her lip, unsure. When she looked into his eyes and saw a sudden flash of the sadness that lay beyond the longing for fun, Emily couldn't refuse.
"Okay, let me go get dressed." She said, standing up and gesturing at the old jeans, tank top, and comfortable flannel shirt she was wearing. Cook looked her up and down.
"What're you talking about, you look fine. If you weren't a lezzer I'd shag you senseless." His words took Emily by surprise and she felt herself blush slightly, but she rolled her eyes at him anyway and shrugged.
"Not like I'm dressing to impress anyone, anyway." She finally stated, more to herself than to Cook. She caught herselfwishing Naomi had been there and decided that Cook was right; she really did need to get out of the house, at least for a few hours. "Fuck it, you're right, I'll just go as is."
"Oi now, that's the spirit!" Cook exclaimed, jumping up and hugging her again. "Let's just go have a great time and forget about all our troubles!" he downed the last of his beer in one fell swoop and tossed the can onto the floor, picking Emily up and spinning her. Emily laughed, she'd worry about the beer can on the floor later. The night was young, she couldn't pass up the opportunity to say good-bye to Bristol in a proper fashion, especially with James Cook in tow.
Cook ran out of the house, his gait surprisingly steady despite the fact that he smelled like a brewery. He stopped on the front lawn and turned, looking at Emily as she shut the front door of Gina's flat behind her.
"We taking your bike, then?" he asked. Emily nodded,, walking over to her moped and tossing a helmet to Cook. Much to her surprise, he caught it and put it on. "A bit snug…" he said after a moment. Emily rolled her eyes.
"Deal with it or we're walking." She answered with a smirk. Cook shrugged and watched as she got onto the bike.
"So what, am I just supposed to like… hold onto you? Sure Naoms won't get jealous?" he asked, clearly joking. Emily simply laughed and put her goggles and her helmet on, starting the moped and gesturing for Cook to get onto the bike as well. He grinned, that goofy Cookish grin that meant he was ready to take on the world, and straddled the back of the bike. When his arms slipped around her waist, Emily noticed that they were surprisingly warm, despite the fact that it was a cool night out and Cook was only wearing a blue tank top and jeans. She also noted that he didn't smell half bad, despite the fact that he looked like he hadn't showered in a few days at least.
"Hold on tight!" she called, and he squeezed her waist slightly. Emily felt her face heat up again and for a split second was amazed at the contrast between how it felt to have Naomi on the bike with her and how it felt with Cook. She could feel his muscles against her back and thought about how much more solid he felt than Naomi, then blinked a few times, shocked that the comparison would even cross her mind. Shaking the thoughts out of her head, she revved the engine and focused on the road ahead of them.
After approaching downtown Bristol, Cook patted her on the shoulder.
"Here!" he exclaimed excitedly, gesturing to Havoc, a newer club that had opened shortly after Freddie's accident. Neither Emily nor Naomi had been inside yet, but after Emily parked the bike and she and Cook approached the front door it was apparent that he had been there before. The bouncer manning the front door glanced at Emily and was about to say something to her, then he looked at Cook, back to her, and nodded slowly, smirking. The redhead's brow furrowed, she was slightly confused but didn't think to question it. As Cook high-fived the bouncer, she thought she saw a small baggie transfer from the bouncer's beefy hand to Cook's.
As she and Cook worked their way into the club, she touched his arm. He turned around and she motioned for him to lean closer. When he did, she lifted her lips to his ear. "What did he give you?" she asked, and she thought she saw him shiver slightly. He turned his head so that their faces were centimeters apart and smiled.
"MDMA, what do you think?" he asked, face breaking out into another infectious grin. "Do you want some?" he asked after a moment, and Emily blinked. She hadn't touched the stuff since Sophia's suicide, but it had been a while since then and she was with Cook. She was certain he would look out for her and make sure she didn't do anything stupid.
"Why the hell not?" she finally yelled over the music. Cook laughed and grabbed her hand, leading her up to the bar.
"Drinks first!" he explained, flashing his fake I.D. at the bartender. He ordered a whiskey sour for himself and a raspberry margarita for Emily- she was amazed that he'd remembered she like raspberries- and turned to her after the drinks had come and he'd paid for them.
"Thank you, sir." She said with a smile as he handed her the margarita. Emily took a drink and smiled. It was perfect, usually people made raspberry drinks a bit weaker, but Emily felt like the tequila and the raspberry complimented each other quite nicely; this place had a really excellent bartender, she thought to herself.
"Emilio approves?" he asked, pointing at her drink. Emily laughed.
"Emilio approves of this entire outing, so far!" she responded, and Cook gulped down a good portion of his drink before grabbing her hand and leading her through the crowd. Emily held her drink up above her head, trying her hardest not to get jostled by anybody in vicinity and risk spilling the beverage.
They successfully made their way to the men's room, and Cook slammed each of the stall doors open consecutively before pushing Emily into the handicapped stall and going in after her, locking the stall door. Emily eyed her surroundings warily, and Cook laughed softly.
"We got lucky, usually there's people shagging in this stall." He stated casually, raising an eyebrow at her. "I wouldn't touch the walls if I were you. And it's a good thing you're not wearing open-toed shoes, eh?" he eyed her flats pointedly. Emily cringed a bit.
"And people wonder why I don't like men." She quipped. Cook smiled and produced a pack of rizlas from his pocket, taking a paper out and shaking some MDMA into it.
"Well, I've seen some pretty questionable women leave this bathroom too, so don't blame men for it all." He replied, sealing the rizla and handing it to her. "Go on, down the hatch, then!" Emily obliged and swallowed it, downing the rest of her drink while Cook made a bomb for himself. When he had taken his and put everything away, he pumped his fist up into the air. "Woo!" he vocalized, opening the stall door. "Let's party!"
Emily grinned and set her glass down on the counter, sure that someone would come to retrieve it eventually. She followed Cook out of the bathroom just as a dubstep song started up, and they made their way to the dance floor. After a few songs and various dance partners, all of whom Emily had eventually distanced herself from after they'd tried to touch her in places they had no business touching. Emily felt the drug begin to take a hold of her, and she lost herself in the music, eyeing Cook with a smile. He was dancing with a pretty blonde girl, but after a moment she wandered away from him and he made his way towards Emily. He leaned towards her, their cheeks brushing slightly.
"Feeling it yet?" He whispered into her ear. His breath was warm, she could feel heat radiating from his body and she shivered slightly. He drew back and a lazy smile crept over his features. "I guess that answers my question." He said matter-of-factly over the music. "Dance with me?" he asked. Emily nodded, why shouldn't she dance with one of her best mates?
Emily moved her hips to the beat, sashaying close to Cook and giggling as his eyebrows drew up in surprise. She'd been watching some of Gina's bellydancing DVDs lately in an attempt to improve her dancing. Judging by the look Cook was giving her, it was working. Without warning, He placed a hand on the small of her back and drew her in a bit closer. Emily didn't mind. This was Cook, after all; he knew she was gay, he was the safest dance partner for her at the moment. She languidly drooped her arms around his neck, their bodies moving in perfect synchronicity with the bass that was steadily pouring from the speakers. She closed her eyes for a moment, and suddenly there was nothing in the room except for the music, and her, and Cook.
Emily moved her arms back to her sides and turned so that Cook's hand was now on her stomach. He moved his hands to her hips and she backed up so that they were pressed even closer together. What are you doing, Emily? Some rational part of her started screaming. She smiled and paid it no attention. She was safe; she was having fun, which was what mattered.
She raised her arms back up over her head and moved herself lower to the ground one beat at a time, then drawing herself back up slowly when she'd felt she'd gone far enough. She felt her hand brush Cook's cheek just as the song ended, his skin slightly stubbly but still humming with energy. When the next song, a softer one, started up, she turned around and grinned, only to see Cook staring at her, shock clearly visible on his face.
"What?" she asked after a moment, knowing in the back of her mind that she'd gone too far. He said nothing, instead he turned and headed back towards the loo. Emily followed him, nearly losing him in the crowd a couple of times. When Cook opened the door and went to slam it, Emily caught it and followed him inside- much to the surprise of the man standing at one of the urinals.
"Out!" Cook barked at the man, whe promptly stopped his flow and zipped back up, rushing out of the bathroom so quickly he nearly ran into the door before he could open it. Cook did the same thing he had done with the stalls earlier, then walked past Emily and locked the bathroom door. She faced him, and he leaned against the locked door.
"What the fuck, Emily?" Cook asked plainly, crossing his arms and staring at her. She blinked, taken aback, but said nothing. "I mean, really… What the fuck?" he asked again. She cleared her throat, suddenly a little bit nervous.
"Sorry, MDMA, it just… hits me and I kind of… lose myself in my senses." She tried explaining it, Cook smirked, and she could tell he understood slightly. "I was dancing and just… it felt nice." She said.
"Dancing with me?" he asked. She nodded, and he laughed- a bark of a laugh she'd rarely heard. "It felt nice! That's your excuse for teasing me like that? I mean fuckin' hell, Emilio, you were HOT out there. Where the hell did you- never mind, I don't really want to know. The point is…" he paused and stared at her, his eyes sweeping over her. She cocked her head to one side and he smiled. "The point is… now we have a problem."
"A problem?" she echoed, confused.
"Well, drugged or not, not a lot of lesbians would dance out there like that… with a man." He said bluntly. "So the problem is that I'm confused. Are you attracted to women and men, Ems?" he asked, arching one eyebrow. Emily rolled her eyes.
"You really expect me to answer that question while I'm this high?" she asked, giggling and removing her flannel shirt, revealing well-toned arms. "You're out of your mind. Right now I'm attracted to beautiful things. And dancing… is something beautiful." She finished, snickering at Cook's exasperated look. She leaned back onto one of the sinks and perched herself onto it. "So are we going to go back out there and dance, or not?" she asked.
Cook shook his head. "The Cookie Monster does not accept that answer. It's a yes or a no, or we're staying in here until they have to break down the door." He smacked the door with the flat of his hand for emphasis.
"You drive a hard bargain." Emily remarked, looking up at the splotchy yellow and tan ceiling and grimacing. "But I don't know if I can answer it honestly with a yes or a no. Because I really don't know."
"That's a load of shit." Cook said almost immediately, stepping forward. "That was more than dancing. That was fucking toying with me. You knew what you were doing, and I think you liked it." He stalked across the room towards her and stood before her, she could tell he was breathing somewhat heavily. Emily blinked and looked at his hard, tortured expression. She'd seen this side of Cook before, it had just always been directed toward s Effy rather than her. "Which is it, Emilio?" he asked softly, placing a hand on her arm. His touch felt nice on her bare skin. Her eyes scanned his rugged face, his dimples, how soft his lips looked…
Before she even knew what she was doing, she was kissing him and he was kissing her back. Then they were snogging, her hands in his hair and his arms around her waist. She wrapped her legs around him to steady herself and caught his lower lip softly with her teeth. His tongue explored her mouth recklessly, and she had to stifle a moan as he pressed her body up against his. Then, for a moment, Emily regained her senses and forced herself to pull back.
Wide eyed and breathing heavily, she pushed Cook away from her and stared at him. "What the fuck?!" she exclaimed, and Cook laughed.
"I believed I asked you that same question a few minutes ago." He stated, licking his lips. Emily wiped her mouth with the back of her hand, still able to taste his mouth on hers.
"Cook, I have a girlfriend!" she hopped off of the edge of the sink and approached him. "Even if I am attracted to men when I'm high, it doesn't give you the right to use that to your advantage!" through the drug-induced euphoria, Emily was appalled by both her behavior and his. What in the hell did he think he was doing, kissing her like that when clearly she was in a committed relationship and clearly she was into girls when she wasn't on something. For that matter, what did she thing she was doing, bombing MDMA at a club without her girlfriend?
Cook stared at her, looking like he'd just been slapped, the hurt in his icy blue eyes very evident. "It takes two." He said sharply. "You wanted that just as much as I did. And you probably want more than that, just like I do."
Emily felt like she'd just been slapped, but at the same time a part of her agreed with his words. She wasn't about to admit it, though. "It was just the drugs." She said defensively, getting fairly annoyed by this point. Cook rolled his eyes and walked towards her again.
"That…. That was not just the drugs." He said slowly, his eyes gazing intently into hers. "Face it, you wanted me to practically take you right there." He gestured towards the sink, and Emily blushed for what seemed to her like the billionth time that night.
"You're exaggerating." She told him, rolling her eyes. "I wanted to snog, you were available. It was a mistake, it won't happen again." Even as she said the words she was nearly certain that she wanted it to happen again, but she wasn't about to admit that to him.
Cook looked at her, a very serious expression on his face as he moved closer to her. "Are you sure about that?" he asked, moving his face so close to hers that their noses touched. Emily felt her heart begin to beat faster, she licked her lips nervously, and as soon as she opened her mouth again to speak, Cook's lips had descended upon hers again, only this time he was maneuvering her into the handicapped stall as they kissed. She didn't mind, not as long as he kept kissing her.
His mouth tasted like tobacco and whiskey, and faintly of beer, and his kisses were so much rougher than Naomi's had ever been. The difference between the two really was incredible, she thought vaguely as he pressed her up against the stall wall. She moved her hands underneath his shirt, wanting to feel the warmth of his skin against hers some more.
"Cook, we shouldn't…" she began as he moved his lips down her neck, his tongue leaving a faint trail. She moaned slightly. " We really shouldn't…" she tried again, but his teeth nipping at her neck just ever-so-slightly stopped her thoughts in their tracks. She moaned, running a hand up his back and grazing the back of his neck with her fingernails.
"Don't worry so much." He whispered as one of his hands worked its way under her shirt. He unclasped the front of her bra and kissed her mouth, harder this time, his tongue more insistant, as he freed her breasts from their confines. He touched her nipple with his thumb and she swore she could feel electricity light up every nerve ending in her body. She groaned again, this time into his mouth, and he pinched her nipple softly. She gasped, and he ground his hips into hers. She heard him let out a stifled groan, and she realized by feel that the bulge in his jeans had grown considerably. She felt her heartbeat quicken. After a moment he removed his lips from hers.
"You ever been with a guy?" he asked suddenly, and Emily couldn't help but laugh and nod. He didn't need to know who, she decided, snickering inwardly before his mouth met hers again and he began to fumble with the button on her jeans. After a second he got it, and she removed her legs from around his waist so that she could lower them Deciding that was too much work, she kicked them onto the floor, and soon her underwear followed suit. Cook stood, pants around his ankles, and picked her back up, pressing her against the stall wall even more insistently than before.
She cried out a bit when his tip touched her opening, not used to the feeling of something that large being put there. Usually with Naomi it was one, maybe two fingers, or a tongue. Nothing in comparison to Cook's cock, which was now working it's way into her, inch by inch. When he was completely in, Emily gasped. Then, without warning, Cook thrust out and then back in, quickly. Emily kissed him hungrily, moaning into his mouth at varying volumes as he moved his hips, driving himself deeper into her.
She couldn't control herself, she raked her nails down his back and he grunted, becoming more gruff and insistent with each thrust. She bit his neck, not a polite nibble but a honest-to-god bite because something told her he responded well to pain. She couldn't have been more right.
"Holy fuck, Emily." He moaned, gripping her hips with his hands and slamming her down onto him so forcefully she threw her head as far back as it would go and nearly screamed with pleasure. "You don't even realize…" he moaned as she raked a hand through his hair "how sexy you are." He mumbled into her mouth as he kissed her again. Cook continued driving into her, and Emily was suddenly aware that she was calling out his name; she only thought that happened in movies, really. Slowly, slowly the pleasure built, until she nearly couldn't take it any more.
She felt the intensity build up inside of her, and rocked back and forth on him a few times. She panted into his ear, then bit down on his shoulder right as she was about to come.
"Fuuuuuck!" Cook cried out, and as Emily felt an orgasm sparking through her she knew he had come, as well. She closed her eyes, seeing different colors floating behind her lids as the sensation faded. Cook held her against the wall for a few more moments, the two of them sweating and panting, until he finally spoke.
"How did a lesbian learn to ride cock like that?" he asked breathlessly, and Emily shrugged. She was just as shocked as he was, if not more so.
When they had cleaned up and re-dressed themselves, the regret began to settle in slowly. Emily stared at Cook, not quite believing what had just happened. He was giving her a look that conveyed similar thoughts.
"I just cheated on my girlfriend…" Emily slowly stated after a moment. Her face fell; after all of the anger she had harbored towards Naomi for sleeping with Sophia, hooking up with Cook in a bathroom stall was possibly the most hypocritical thing she could have ever done. She felt Cook's eyes on her, knew he was watching her intently for some reason. "I…I think I need to go home." She said suddenly, head spinning. Not her home, Naomi's home. Naomi's mother's home, no less. "What the fuck did we just do, Cook?"
"Shagged, seems like." He said nonchalantly. "You can't deny that it was good, right?"
Emily's eyes widened. This wasn't the Cook she had become fast friends with, the confused warrior with a heart that was secretly made of gold. No, this was an entirely different side to Cook, one that she had never been exposed to. It made her slightly sick to her stomach and dizzy. She suddenly felt like she was going to vomit.
He must have noticed the look on her face, because Cook grabbed her hand. "Let's get out of here, eh?" he asked. "I'll drive the bike; don't worry, I'll try not to go too fast."
Emily nodded, simultaneously feeling both numb and ashamed. She let Cook lead her out of the bathroom and through the still-crowded club. When they got to her bike, Cook pulled out another MDMA bomb and handed it to her. He swallowed one of his own, then gestured for her to take hers. Emily looked at it and shrugged. Why not? It wasn't like she hadn't already made the biggest mistake of her life. She put her helmet on and watched Cook as he stepped onto the bike, entirely too conscious of the way his still-sweaty form made her heart race. As she sat down behind him, she noticed how he stiffened up slightly as her breasts made contact with his back. Unable to help herself, she suddenly found herself running one hand up his thighs. Cook looked back at her and grinned.
"You'll have to wait til we get back to yours." He said, clearly amused, and Emily couldn't help but let out a hollow laugh. Didn't he mean her girlfriend's house?