Chapter Text
Emily watched the rainbow strobe light play across Jenna’s skin as she danced slowly to the music. There was so much skin on display that she had to swallow, despite how parched she felt. Ben’s heavy hands were on her waist, guiding her body against his, but he seemed far away in comparison to the way Jenna’s eyes pulled her in. They were so blue, icy in a way that Alison’s weren’t. Her heart picked up when Jenna smiled at her, slow and genuine, with something behind it that felt like a promise- or an invitation.
Like a sixth sense she could feel Ali- creep wasn’t the right word, she never did anything in halves or with hesitation- prowl? closer to her as she edged around the dance floor. Emily’s body stopped its slow sway in preparation for whatever she had to say. Ben’s hands fell away from her, like water off a duck's back. Just the threat of her presence was enough for him to give her space. It was the only thing that ever did, certainly nothing Emily tried worked.
Just as the ghost of Ali’s breath sent shivers down her spine, Jenna’s smile turned a little sharper, and suddenly she was being pulled away into the center of the mostly empty dance floor. A phantom touch slid down her arm as if someone had reached for her and missed.
She shivered again, and blamed it on the cold. But if she was really cold, why did her skin suddenly feel on fire as Jenna slid her hand up from her wrist to her shoulder, before trailing her fingertips back down until she was holding Emily’s hand?
“Dance with me?”
“Uh…” She could feel the heat of Ali’s glare from here, knew that what came out of her mouth next would cause trouble, but it was hard to focus with the taste of alcohol on her tongue and Jenna’s full attention. “Sure,” she breathed.
Jenna moved closer to her, placing Emily’s hand in hers onto her hips, lower than even Ben had dared with her. It felt weird dancing in the guys position, the angles were all different than she was used to, but as Jenna wrapped her arms around her neck, pulling her close enough that Emily could smell her lipgloss- something cherry- she realized it felt more right than wrong. She put her other hand on Jenna too. Just as low. Just as amazing.
They moved in a steady rhythm to the crooning, soft rock blaring from Noel’s expensive, but still shitty speakers. Jenna leaned her mouth to Emily’s ear, pushing her chest into hers in a way that made her hands spasm for some reason.
“You’ve been staring at me all night.”
The blush that spread up her chest was fast and immediate, even if no one could see it in the relative darkness of the house.
“I wasn’t-” Emily cut herself off. The denial was there on the tip of her tongue, because she should have been denying this. Girls don’t stare at other girls. But… she had been. Enough for Jenna to notice, to care. Enough to make her uncomfortable, probably. “Sorry, I shouldn’t have-” her hands were already pulling away, but she couldn't go far.
“Don’t be,” Jenna whispered, her voice going from comforting to sultry as her nails scratched lightly under the loose braids Emily had put in for her costume. “I’ve been staring at you, too.”
Wait, what?
Emily pulled back slightly, her eyes searching Jenna’s, looking for any hint of insincerity, but all she saw was desire. She’d seen that look enough in her boyfriend's eyes to recognize it, but she couldn’t make sense of it on the girl in front of her. A girl who was a stranger before tonight. A girl who was a girl. A girl who was leaning in.
Oh my god.
A girl was going to kiss Emily.
Why was a girl trying to kiss Emily?
Why was she about to let her?
Screw that, why was she leaning in too?
Their lips had just started to touch when she was roughly ripped away, coming face to face with a furious looking Alison.
The music and bodies that had disappeared in her little Jenna bubble came crashing back down around her so fast, Emily was left dizzy. Words were exchanged, but they ping ponged back and forth so quickly that she couldn’t catch a single one. All she knew was that a stinging slap rang out clear as day over the music, then she was being frogmarched past whooping boys, a mystified Queen of Scots, and a probably now ex boyfriend off the dance floor, and out of the house.
“Where are we going, Ali,” Emily asked, fighting a wince from how hard Alison’s nails were digging into her upper arm.
She didn’t get an answer. Not when they were outside. Not when they were halfway down the block. Not until Ali pushed her way into that creepy, old house like she had a key to it, looking for all the world that this might as well be the DiLaurentis house. She let go of Emily as soon as the door shut, obscuring them from party goers and trick or treaters alike, and put a few feet between them.
“What the hell was that, Em?”
Ali was seething. Her fists were clenched tight, and her breathing came fast and heavy. Emily had only ever seen her like that before she bitch-slapped somebody hard enough to carve into their skin, and never at Emily herself. Her stunned silence didn’t do her any favours. It just spurred Ali on. She took a menacing step closer, a sneer sliding onto her perfect face, as she started to taunt her.
“Were you trying to taste her cherry chapstick? God, I thought you were shy in the streets, and sexy in the sheets, but really you’re just a slut. Letting her manipulate you into kissing her in front of your boyfriend. Classy. I wonder what your parents will think of you when they find out.”
“No- Ali, you can’t! Please, they can’t find out.”
Cold dread flooded Emily. She screwed her eyes tight against the fear. Her parents, her mom, could never find out about this, about her. For all of Alison’s fury and bluster, Emily had never been scared of being hurt by her. Not physically at least. But this? This could ruin her. If- If-
“Hey,” Ali’s voice said, much softer than before, and closer than Emily remembered, “I won’t. I won’t actually say anything. I just don’t want you hanging around that bitch, Jenna.”
Emily let the words soothe her racing heart. A hand reached up to tuck some hair behind her ear. Then a thumb brushed a tear off her cheek. When she opened her eyes, for a moment all she could see was the warm blue of Ali’s eyes. It was always hard to see past them once she was caught. She could feel the warm puffs of air coming from Ali’s open mouth on her face. Her eyes dropped to her lips, not for the first time in their friendship, and then further down to her still heaving chest. Why did Ali choose this night of all nights to wear leather? It didn’t seem fair. Even if she couldn’t quite understand why it seemed that way.
“Ali,” Emily asked, hoping for the guidance she had come to rely on from her.
Alison seemed caught in her own web, watching as her hand trailed the same path Jenna’s took, like she was erasing it- or rewriting it.
Emily shook slightly under her touch, vulnerable, afraid, and exhilarated. Ali liked touching her. She did it a lot, more than the rest of their friends, but it wasn’t something Emily could ever become used to. It still felt special and new even after all these months.
“I don’t want her touching you.” Most people would have qualified that statement with ‘like that,’ but not Alison. It wasn’t a request or a personal observation, it was a command. Emily could read the expression clearly on her face, which was never a good sign considering Ali hoarded her feelings like Emily hoarded her mom’s snickerdoodles. She was not to let Jenna touch her again, or else.
Her, “why,” came out a lot breathier than intended, but Emily blamed it on Ali’s proximity. Her brain always went a little wonky when they were like this.
“Because, mermaid,” Ali started, her fingers gently grasping Emily’s chin, “you’re mine.”
Maybe to someone else’s ears that would have sounded territorial, like she was a doll that Ali particularly liked to play with, but to Emily… to Emily it sounded like mutual destruction. Because she was Alison’s as much as Ali’s was hers. Too much for friendship alone, but not enough to scream it from the rooftops. Not when their parents would hear. Still… It made her heart beat a little harder hearing those words out loud. The confirmation. Emily tried to duck out of Ali’s hold, feeling overwhelmed by the intensity of the moment, but her grip was too strong, and Emily was powerless against her will to try in earnest.
“Look at me, Em.” She paused, waiting until brown met blue. “You deserve more than some skank at a party, or a boyfriend that brags to his friends about his nonexistent sex life. You’re too good for that,” Ali finished wistfully.
“But not too good for you, right?”
The words came unbidden, a cocktail of vodka and Ali’s perfume loosening her usually well buried desires from her tongue.
Alison’s face crumpled, just for a moment, before it smoothed out again, only a lingering sadness remained in her eyes. Emily could only see it for how hard she was staring into them.
“Sometimes I think you are.”
“I’m not, Ali. You’re perfect.”
Alison laughed, but it didn’t sound happy. It sounded hollow and carcinogenic, like Emily had said something so unbelievable, so universally false that it stained and tore at her. Her eyes stayed dry, but a lesser woman would have wept in the storm of emotions that passed through her body.
Always the empath, Emily shed her own tears for Alison to catch yet again. Her hands were so much smaller than Ben’s when they cupped her face.
“I love that you think that.”
Then Ali was leaning in, and oh god. She’d thought about this before, once or twice- a few dozen times, Ali’s lips on her. It was never a thought that lingered, just a constant pulling want. But now it was happening.
Alison was going to kiss her.
Emily felt her body lock up in anticipation, but as soon as their lips met, she melted. Ali’s lips were just as full and soft as she’d imagined, although she tasted bitter, like the cheap alcohol they’d been drinking earlier instead of the strawberry lipgloss Emily had hoped she’d wear tonight. It didn’t matter.
Ali was leading the kiss, turning Emily this way and that, but then she made a breathy sort of sound that snapped something inside of Emily. Suddenly, she was the one pushing against Alison, driving her into the wall by the staircase, earning her another small noise. Her hands tried to bury in Ali’s ridiculously soft hair, but they got caught on the plasticy hair of her cheap wig. In that moment, it was the most offensive thing she could imagine. She pulled it off and flung it into the ether, hoping it never saw the light of day again. Ali huffed at the dramatics, but it bled into a moan when Emily tugged her hair out of its protective bun. Heat flushed through her. All she wanted was to hear that again. She dragged Ali’s bottom lip between her teeth, pulling the blonde’s head backwards until it released. Ali whined in a very un-Ali like way that had Emily’s hips twitching forward without her consent.
Alison shoved her, not hard enough to make her stumble, except for how unbalanced she felt. She let her hands fall away to take in the sight in front of her.
Ali looked as wrecked as she felt. Her usually perfect hair fell in uneven, limp tangles. Her flawless makeup was smudged from Emily’s hands and lips. Her cool composure was eclipsed by her blown pupils and shaking hands. It made Emily feel high, seeing her like this.
Alison shook her head, as she tried to futilely control her breathing.
“Not here. No way am I losing my V-card in some shitty haunted house.”
Emily could only follow as she was led out of the house towards the unknown. For some reason that one Katy Perry song was playing in her head on repeat.
I kissed a girl, and I liked it.