Mandatory disclaimer that this chapter is extremely smutty so seriously 18+ (I'm not exaggerating, there are literally 3,162 words aka 11 pages of pure smut). Tori and Emily's song is All About Us by tATu because fuck actually writing a song for them (I'm lazy) so listen as you read for the immaculate 2005 Eurovision grand final vibes. Thank you to everyone who read, voted, and commented; this is definitely the weirdest story I've ever written but it's my favourite.
"Girls?" Agnes called out, bursting into the room in a tailored skirt suit that looked like it had been stolen off of the set of Ally McBeal, "How are my two favourite international sensations?"
"Great, Agnes!" Emily replied, cutting off Tori's shout of, "Did someone die?"
Seeing Agnes in such high spirits was jarring, to say the least.
"Nobody died," Agnes smiled tightly, "You two are the first of my girls to make it to the grand final. Do you know how long I've been working for this?"
Agnes looked at her expectantly and Emily gave her a nudge in the side, prompting her to answer the question.
"Oh, sorry," she chuckled awkwardly, "I thought you were gonna..."
"Thirty-six years, Victoria. I'm not sure how either of you pulled this off; Lord knows you're two of the most unlikely candidates for the job. I would go as far as to say that not a single citizen of our great nation thought you would make it through the Melfest finals, but —"
"Oh, for the love of God," Tori sighed, bringing her fingers to her temples, "Doesn't it get tiring? Spending all this time reminding me that I don't deserve to be here?"
"Let me finish. I'm pleased with you, Victoria," she pulled a thick stack of envelopes bound by an elastic band out of her purse and handed it to Tori, "Both of you. And you should be proud of yourselves."
That afternoon, as Emily showered in their shared bathroom, Tori tore open one of the envelopes, pulling out a sheet of folded notebook paper.
Tori and Emily,
Thank you for showing the world that people like us can be anything we want to be. That our love is beautiful and it matters. I'm still in school right now, but when I'm older I hope I'll be able to be brave like you.
I can't wait to watch you win,
Allie
ps. You're both super hot. Next time you're in Borlänge, please marry me (both of you).
She reread the postscript, laughing out loud in disbelief before the rest of the letter began to sink in. It had never registered to Tori before that this tiny, irrelevant part of her that she'd ignored for so long could actually mean something. Could mean that she belonged to some weird little family of strangers, people like us, who felt the things she felt. The things she'd spent her life believing she wasn't capable of feeling.
But some kid in Borlänge had watched her and Emily on TV and seen herself in them and Tori knew that she'd reached her tipping point; it was harder now to deny the truth than it was to accept it. Tori was like the girl from the letter, like Emily, and it was true that what she felt for Emily mattered. It was as involuntary as her own heartbeat; a mosaic of striate tissue steadily thrumming Emily's name into her bloodstream when all she'd asked for was the necessary oxygen.
"I'm gay," she whispered, tasting the word on her tongue, trying it on for size. She closed her eyes and pressed on, her voice so quiet she could barely hear it herself, "And I like Emily."
The last part felt inadequate, like calling a thunderstorm a light drizzle, so Tori took a deep breath, exhaling, "I love her," like smoke and before she had time to process the gravity of it, the bathroom door was flung open and Emily stepped out.
Emily's eyes landed on the sheet of paper in her hand, her face lighting up, "Ooh. What's that?"
She ran over to Tori, stumbling over the long hem of her bathrobe, and grabbed it out of Tori's hand. Her expression was unreadable until she placed the letter down next to her on Tori's bed.
"Well shit, Tori," she smirked, "Looks like we've still got it. A marriage proposal from a teenager."
"Oh, shut up. You were a teenager like three years ago."
She raised her hands in surrender, "And nobody wanted to marry me back then."
"Better get used to it. You're the most eligible bachelorette in Europe now."
Emily gave her a curious look, "Because..."
"You're a celebrity," Tori replied as if it were obvious and for a moment she could have sworn she saw a flicker of disappointment in Emily's eyes, gone as quickly as it had appeared.
"You know none of that means anything, Tori."
Summoning whatever bravery she had in store, Tori forced herself to smile through the tidal wave of emotions threatening to overtake her, "Yeah, but you do. Never change, okay? Even when I'm not around to keep you from going all lifestyles of the rich and famous."
"I won't if you don't," Emily replied, a challenge in her tone.
"Yeah? And who are we swearing on this time? The Spice Girls?"
Emily held out her pinkie and Tori took it with her own, linking them together.
"Broke bitches forever," Emily spoke in mock austerity.
Tori barked out a laugh and Emily narrowed her eyes.
"Fine," Tori acquiesced, "Broke bitches forever."
___
Ten minutes before they were scheduled to go on stage, Tori saw a familiar face out of the corner of her eye and felt her body tense with fury.
"Oh, fuck no," she hissed and Emily turned to her, her face a mask of shock and concern.
"What's going on?" Emily asked before following Tori's eyeline to see Scott standing in the corner.
She'd stupidly assumed that Scott and Ben would have gone straight to the green room after their performance, but there he was chatting up a storm with a stagehand who couldn't be older than nineteen.
Emily seemed to shrink in front of her, her shoulders falling forward, arms crossing in front of her.
"It's fine, Tori," she insisted weakly.
Tori placed a hand on her shoulder, "Could you go check us in backstage? I just have to talk to Maria for a second."
Emily gave her an apprehensive look, "I guess? But seriously, I'm fine. Don't worry about me."
When Emily was safely backstage, Tori marched over to Scott, her heels pounding violently on the linoleum floor. She grabbed him roughly by the arm and yanked him back to face her.
"Hey, fuckface," she crossed her arms over her chest, "Wanna tell me what the fuck happened at that party?"
Scott scoffed, pulling his arm away and straightening out his sleeve, "You stole my fucking cab is what happened. And this jacket cost more than six months of whatever you pay for rent in the projects, so be careful where you're putting your hands."
"Excuse me?" she turned to the girl at Scott's side, "Listen, honey. This guy's a piece of shit. Trust me, you can find like, ten dudes who look like him working retail at Abercrombie."
The girl pressed two fingers to her ear, pretending to be engrossed in whatever was going on in her earpiece and scurried off, clearly not interested in getting involved in what was about to transpire.
"Emily's been trying to fuck me since the day we met," he jabbed, that arrogant smirk still plastered on his face, "And this pathetic little white knight routine isn't going to get her to give up dick for you."
Tori felt something inside her snap. It was the type of thing you saw in movies; Bruce Banner suddenly thirty feet tall and radioactive green. Tori was the action hero seeing red except the only thing in her field of vision was Scott's stupid fucking face.
Scott looked at her quizzically, sensing the change, and Tori smiled.
"Just so you know, asshole, if you tell anybody about what I'm about to do, I'll go to the press and tell them exactly what you did to her."
"What the fuck are you talking about, you crazy bitch?"
Tori drew back her fist and threw it forward into Scott's face with as much force as she could muster, sending him hurtling into the ground with a sickening thud. Scott brought his hand to his face, his fingers quickly coating with blood, and stared up at her in shock.
"My nose," he gasped, pulling his hand away to take in the dark liquid trickling down to his wrist.
"Stay the fuck away from Emily or I'll break it next time," she hissed, turning on her heels and walking away.
Her thoughts were racing as she made her way backstage. She wasn't entirely sure that she hadn't broken Scott's nose, for one. Tori had a reputation for her anger, but she was never violent. She'd never been in an actual physical fight and, really, how much force did it take to break a nose? She certainly wasn't weak; she had a moderately utilized CrossFit membership, thank you very much.
The second thing on her mind was, as always, Emily. She had to pull herself together for Emily's sake. There was no time to worry about anything beyond the present moment, so Tori walked with purpose and pushed everything else down as far as she could.
"Tori!" Emily called out, running up to her, "We're on, like, now. Where were you?"
Tori threw her arms around Emily and squeezed her tight before pulling back and taking a deep breath, "One last time. Let's fucking win this, Em. Together, right?"
Emily just nodded, her eyes wide, and Tori walked into the lights alone.
When the music stopped and the crowd erupted in cheers, Tori could only stand in place and stare. The lightness in her chest felt like helium; not an emptiness, but a weightlessness. With blinding lights in her eyes and deafening screams echoing in her ears, it was the first time in years that Tori had felt young.
Looking out into the crowd through the haze of glitter and confetti, she thought of dive bar shows played to audiences of twenty and off-tune Madonna karaoke in her childhood bedroom. She thought of her first dance recital and the way her mother's cheers had drowned out the music.
It was a strange feeling, Tori thought — standing for so long at the edge of a precipice waiting for permission to jump. Waiting to be told she was good enough to make the leap, deserving of seeing the other side. After so many years of dreaming of a moment like this, her final hail Mary before resigning herself entirely, Tori had never quite imagined how it would feel if it happened.
Then she saw Emily; shining like a star with her thousand megawatt smile and gleaming eyes.
She saw Emily and that small, childlike voice in her head said: We're still so young, aren't we? We can still be everything we wanted to be.
Tori turned to Emily, careful not to let her smile falter with the cameras surrounding them and spoke through gritted teeth, "I think I might have broken Scott's nose."
Emily's eyes widened for a moment, her easy grin tensing, "You did what, Tori?"
"I think I might love you." Tori's breath hitched, "I think I might be in love with you."
Emily lunged forward, taking Tori's face in both palms and crashing their lips together.
It was as if somebody had clicked fast-forward on time itself, moments stringing together dreamlike and amphetamine-fast as she kissed Emily, as they waved to the crowd, as they held eachother close in the green room and the announcer yelled to the audience: the winner is Sweden.
And that was how it happened; how two girls, a glorified janitor reared on loneliness in the back of a battered Westfalia and a rootless Swedish expatriate, became the women of the hour, millions of people screaming just for them.
Tori thought then that happiness was less contingent on forever than it was a collection of moments like these and being brave enough to live them. The past had shaped her, molded her like molten steel into a woman who could love as hard as her fists could hit bone, and if the complexities of life could be reduced to Newtonian terms, action and reaction, she could feel the push and pull of loss and gain coursing through her in equal measure. If that was happiness, the fraught path of learning to live in the space between them, then Tori would teach herself to find comfort in shades of grey.
___
Tori had never felt so disoriented as she did on the ride back to the hotel, Emily's hand resting against her inner thigh unacknowledged as she rambled on at lightning speed about how she couldn't believe what had just happened. They'd won; their names only a couple pages down from ABBA's etched into Eurovision history.
Emily hadn't said she loved Tori back, but Tori had felt it in the way she'd kissed her. In the guilelessness in her eyes as she stared at Tori in shock and wonder. Then Emily did say it, whispering it into her ear as Tori prepared to swipe her credit card in the cab driver's payment terminal, "525 hryvnia," and, "Fuck, I love you," registering simultaneously from two disparate sources.
Tori was a little bit in shock, a little bit mystified at the nonchalance with which Emily had just dropped such a massive bomb on her, so she said, "I love you too," to the cab driver and glared at Emily when she burst into uproarious laughter.
Emily was still cracking herself up when Tori unlocked their hotel room and popped a bottle of champagne, shrugging off her jacket and collapsing onto the bed to take a swig straight from the bottle.
"You think you're so funny, don't you?" Tori remarked, unamused.
"Fuck, Tori," Emily cackled, "Can't let it get to my head when you're in love with every cab driver in Kyiv, can I?"
Tori groaned, "Maybe next time don't, like, say shit I'm not expecting you to say when I'm trying to pay for our cab. You're welcome for that, by the way."
Something shifted in Emily's expression and she sauntered over to her, taking the bottle from her hand and taking a long sip before setting it down on the bedside table and climbing into Tori's lap.
Emily brought her lips to Tori's cheek and pulled back, looking at her with a mixture of excitement and trepidation.
"Thank you, Tori."
There was an innocence to the way Emily interacted with her, cheek kisses and lingering glances, that stood in stark contrast to the way her eyes travelled to Tori's chest and raked over her body. Tori wasn't sure what to do, so she erred on the side of awkwardly proffered consent and blurted out, "You can kiss me if you want. Like, you're allowed, or whatever."
It was a ridiculous thing to say with Emily's thighs straddling her waist, but she'd never felt so uncertain in a situation like this before. Like she knew what to do, the mechanics of it, but not how to go about it. Then Emily's soft lips were brushing against hers, tentative and slow, and it felt like relief. Like a mutual understanding had finally been reached and Tori was free to dive in and let herself want it.
Emily sighed into the kiss, her hands fisting in Tori's hair as she spread her thighs wider, pressing herself into Tori's lap as if she were creating an airtight seal between their two bodies. When Tori finally pulled back, flushed and panting, Emily was almost unrecognizable; desperate and vulnerable. Stripped raw in Tori's arms. Her eyes looked black in the dim light of the hotel room and her parted lips were swollen and smeared with lipstick, a swipe of red smudged from her chin to the tip of her nose.
This wasn't an innocent kiss that they could laugh off and joke about in the morning. It was familiar somehow, like an old verse, the build into a crescendo; the anticipation of a refrain that Tori could feel in her bones. She didn't want to stop it, wanted to lean in harder and commit to memory the heat of Emily's breath on her lips and the way the firm muscles of her thighs tensed when Tori's fingertips grazed her hip.
Emily crashed their lips together again, opening her mouth to deepen the kiss, and Tori fell back against the mattress, Emily's thighs still locked around her waist. She shuddered as she felt deft hands toying with the straps of her shirt before pulling them down over her shoulders, fingertips dancing over the sensitive skin of her chest. Emily tugged the shirt down over her breasts and broke away from the kiss, sitting back on her heels to stare unabashedly at Tori's exposed torso.
It was then that it started to sink in. Tori had never done anything like this before. Hookups, sure, and she'd had a few flings here and there, but Emily was her best friend, the only person alive who really knew her, and this was different. Equal parts exciting and terrifying and, if she was being honest, a little bit weird to be laid bare for her like this.
Emily's head seemed to be in the same place, staring down at Tori like she didn't know where to look or what to do with her hands. "Fuck," she muttered quietly.
"I mean, yeah," Tori snorted, attempting to lighten the mood, "I was kind of hoping that was the direction this was going."
Emily released a trapped breath and leaned in, bringing her lips to Tori's neck and an uncertain hand to her chest. She rolled a nipple between her fingers before replacing them with her tongue, grazing the sensitive skin with her teeth and causing Tori's back to arch, chasing more contact with a breathless moan.
Tori slid a leg between Emily's thighs, drawing out a needy whimper from the brunette as she began to rock her hips languidly against Tori's bare thigh. As nice as it felt to be the centre of attention, letting Emily tease her with her tongue as the pressure in her abdomen steadily climbed, Tori could feel the night slipping by too quickly.
She pushed Emily to the side, moving to straddle her, one hand planted firmly on her chest for balance. Emily just stared up at her, lips parted, eyes wide and clouded with desire, "What are you doing?"
Tori smirked and played with the hem of Emily's shirt, lifting it teasingly and relishing in Emily's sharp intake of breath.
"It's hardly fair, don't you think?" she mused, "All of Europe's seen mine and yet..."
Emily met her gaze, something like a challenge, and moved her hands from where they'd come to rest on Tori's thighs to untie her shirt, letting it fall open with a coy smile before running a hand across her tits, pink nipples hardening under her own touch. Well fuck, Tori thought, maybe Emily does have game after all.
Not one to back down, she undid the tie on her own shirt and threw it to the side.
"You've thought about this before, haven't you?" she taunted, raking her nails down the centre of Emily's chest and watching her squirm.
"Yeah," Emily breathed and it was so painfully earnest — more intimate, somehow, than the way she'd kissed Tori or touched her. Emily wanted this. Had probably wanted it for longer than it had even occurred to Tori as an option. She felt stupid for not having seen it before, for wasting so much time, but the skin underneath her fingers felt like fire and maybe all of that cosmic shit Emily believed in wasn't so far off the mark after all. Maybe it was always supposed to work out this way.
"You're so beautiful," Tori whispered and Emily smiled, eyes closing and nose crinkling.
Before Tori could react, Emily was pulling her back down into a bruising kiss. It was rough and a little bit sloppy, all teeth and tongue, but Tori didn't really care.
"You're so perfect it's actually dumb," Emily mumbled into her lips and Tori moved to pepper her neck with open mouthed kisses.
There was an urgency to the way Emily touched her; eager hands finding purchase around her waist, at her hips, nails digging into her ass. The shamelessness of it felt dirty and erotic in a way that made Tori's pulse quicken and cheeks flush.
She dipped a finger between Emily's thighs and groaned against her neck as she felt the evidence of her arousal soaking through her spandex shorts. Fuck.
Emily whimpered, hips bucking to meet Tori's hand, and Tori stroked her softly outside of her shorts, teasing her and revelling in the sound of each tiny moan and breathless little gasp. Tori couldn't bring herself to joke about Emily's responsiveness; the visual of her pink cheeks and the feeling of Emily's hardened nipples against her chest as she arched her back were enough to shut Tori up.
"More," Emily breathed, "Please, Tori."
Tori stilled for a moment. This was really happening; Emily Connor was really in her bed practically begging to be fucked. Tori could feel the arousal pooling deep in her stomach and, fuck it, if they were actually doing this, she'd be damned if she didn't commit.
She shifted down the bed, toying with the waistband of Emily's shorts and raising her eyebrows. Emily nodded, drawing her lower lip between her teeth, and Tori quickly tugged off her shorts, settling between her thighs. With her view now unobstructed, Tori noticed the wetness coating Emily's inner thighs and the brush of the seam of her shorts against her clit as she shifted her hips was starting to feel unbearable.
The initial awkwardness had run its course and now all Tori wanted was to hear Emily moan louder; to touch her and taste her and make her come completely unhinged. She dragged her tongue from Emily's entrance to her clit to gauge her reaction, feeling a tiny flutter of pride when Emily sucked in a sharp breath and fisted her hands in the sheets. Tori repeated the action, flicking her tongue and sucking her clit between her lips, Emily's taste coating her mouth.
"Fuck, baby," Emily breathed, grabbing a fistfull of Tori's hair and pushing her down.
Tori hummed against her and Emily shuddered. It felt too good to be true, like any second now Emily would pull back with a hoarse chuckle and an 'oh my God, that was so funny,' or worse, she'd look at Tori with disgust. It was irrational, of course; Emily liked girls and loved Tori, she'd said as much, but Tori had a feeling that was going to take a moment to sink in.
It wasn't long before Tori discovered the rhythm that made Emily's legs quiver and her chest heave with each sharp inhale. Wordlessly, Emily grabbed Tori's wrist from where it rested on her thigh and Tori pulled back, wiping her face with the back of her free hand and masking her confusion.
She watched as Emily took a moment to steady her breathing and brought Tori's hand to her mouth, her tongue darting out to lick along the length of her index and middle fingers before capturing them between her lips. Without breaking eye contact, she released them with an audible pop and guided Tori's hand between her legs.
Tori fucking loved this side of Emily — the one that didn't back down, that knew exactly what she wanted. Maybe she was pushing her luck, but Tori wanted to see just how far Emily would go.
"What exactly do you want me to do?" she asked with a cocky grin.
"Oh, fuck off, Tori," Emily groaned, clearly unimpressed.
Tori ignored the comment, sitting back on her heels and sliding her hand under the waistband of her shorts, "This?"
Emily gulped, struggling to hold her gaze as Tori teased herself with a finger, tossing her head back and using her free hand to toy with her already hard nipples. It was a cheap show, but Emily was sitting up on her elbows, staring at her in open-mouthed disbelief, and as awful as it was, Tori really was getting a kick out of screwing with her.
A strained moan escaped her lips and Emily muttered a string of curses before lunging forward and climbing into Tori's lap. Tori removed her hand from her shorts to grab Emily's waist for balance as she sucked at the flushed skin of Tori's neck.
"I want you inside me," Emily rasped into her ear, "Is that what you wanted me to say?"
"Um," Tori cleared her throat, squeezing her thighs together, "That'll do."
Desperate to regain her composure, Tori repositioned herself and slid two fingers into Emily's soaked entrance. Emily's eyes slammed shut and she gripped Tori's shoulders, rocking her hips and riding Tori's fingers in earnest.
"Look at me," Tori instructed, curling her fingers inside Emily, and Emily opened her eyes, a guttural moan tearing itself from her throat. The combination of her wild hair and the haze of desire in her mascara-ringed eyes made her look almost feral.
"Fuck, Tori," she whimpered, "I'm so fucking close."
Tori had never been particularly interested in dirty talk. Most of the time it just made her cringe, but before she could think better of it, she was dragging her tongue along her top teeth, prodding, "Yeah? Are you gonna come for me?"
Emily mewled in response, increasing her pace, the rhythm of her hips becoming jerky and erratic.
"Tell me," Tori tilted her head to the side and smirked, curling her fingers again, eliciting a sound from Emily somewhere between a whine and a sob.
"Yes," she choked out, her voice frail and strained, "I'm gonna come — fuck, you're gonna make me fucking come."
Tori could already feel Emily clenching around her fingers, her laboured breathing and the slick sounds of Tori's fingers bottoming out inside of her filling the room. Just a few more moments and Tori would finally get to see her lose control (and thank God, because her wrist was seriously starting to cramp).
"Good girl," Tori cooed, reaching out to pinch a nipple between her thumb and forefinger and Emily shrieked, collapsing gracelessly against her shoulder, hips jerking into Tori's hand.
Emily covered her face with her hands and let out a breathless laugh, "Holy shit. Fuck. You're really good at that."
Tori moved her hands away, pinning them gently at her sides and offering her an uncertain smile, "Yeah?"
Emily tilted her head up to kiss her languidly and Tori felt her cheeks heat up when she realized that Emily could taste herself on her lips and tongue.
"What you did before," she spoke quietly, her eyes fixed on the duvet, "Could you do it again?"
"You'll have to be a bit more specific than that, Em," Tori responded with a playful squeeze of Emily's wrists.
Emily looked up, "I kinda like watching." Oh.
As she scooted back from Emily and hooked her thumbs under the waistband of her shorts, pulling them down over her hips teasingly slow, Tori was starting to think she'd give Emily anything that she wanted. She wouldn't even entertain the idea of doing this for anybody else and yet here she was, turning to the side to give Emily a better view, leaning forward and arching her back as she tugged her shorts over the curve of her ass, past her thighs. She tossed them to the side and faced Emily again, spreading her legs and pushing her hair back out of her face.
"Jesus Christ," Emily rasped and judging by the direction of her gaze, it wasn't hard to imagine what she was thinking. Tori knew she was soaked and she might have even been a little bit embarrassed if it weren't for the way Emily was looking at her. Wide-eyed and dazed.
Tori slid her fingers along the length of her pussy, gathering the wetness and rubbing tight circles into her clit, "Do you like that, honey?"
Tori didn't know what had come over her. She certainly wasn't a fucking prude and she'd never had any qualms about flaunting her body, but fucking herself while Emily sat back and watched raptly wasn't something she'd anticipated.
"You're so fucking sexy," Emily sighed, cupping a full breast in her hand and skimming over it with her thumb. She was grinding her hips slightly against the bed, her arousal evident, and all Tori wanted to do was throw her onto her back and fuck her senseless.
Tori entered herself hard and fast, supporting her weight with a hand planted firmly behind her.
"Can you take three?" Emily asked, her voice hoarse, and holy shit, was Emily actually telling her how to fuck herself? Tori added a third finger, gasping at the stretch, the mounting pressure in her core betraying the reality that she was definitely into this.
As much as she hated taking orders, hearing Emily, usually so meek and deferential, boss her around for her own enjoyment was having more of an effect on her than she'd care to admit. She and Emily were like night and day, but more similar than most would assume; like noon and midnight, the sole correct readings of the same stopped clock. Accidental survivors turned temporary heroes of a fickle industry.
Emily crawled forward then, bringing her mouth to Tori's hip and grazing the skin with her teeth and tongue. Tori arched her back to give Emily more access, still thrusting into herself with soaked fingers, and Emily moved to decorate her chest with sloppy kisses before pulling a strained nipple between her lips and sucking hard.
"Fuck," she keened, quickening her thrusts as Emily bit down gently and lifted her hips to grind against Tori's thigh. The mixture of pain and pleasure sent shockwaves through Tori's body. Emily's skin was soft and warm and she looked so pretty like this with her flushed face and muffled whimpers, but it was the sharp edge of an incisor that made her head spin. Emily's touch left marks too, sometimes, and Tori liked it. Liked knowing that bruising intimacy was a trait they shared like a secret.
Tori was getting close and, though admittedly this was pretty hot, she didn't really want to finish herself off. She'd been doing way too much of that lately.
"Hey, Em," she panted, "Do you wanna help me out here?"
"Oh," Emily blushed, catching her breath and sliding off of Tori's lap, "I got a little carried away."
Emily shoved her onto her back and climbed between her thighs, finding her clit with her finger before replacing it with a flat tongue.
Emily fucked the way she did damn near everything; soft, sweet, and deliberate. The realization, paired with her view of the ridiculous tattoo on the side of Emily's ass, was more than a little bit hilarious in the moment. If it were anybody else in her bed, she'd probably be growing impatient, but oh God, Emily's tongue felt like a fucking rapture and she really wasn't in any position to complain.
Emily stilled, probably having noticed Tori's poorly-concealed smirk, "What?"
"Nothing," Tori smiled, running her fingers through Emily's hair, "You're just very... gentle with me. I'm not used to it."
At Emily's lack of response, she continued reassuringly, "It's not a bad thing, I actually kind of — oh!" she let out a surprised little squeak as Emily entered her roughly with two fingers and added a third. "Oh, fuck," she breathed, "Okay. That works too."
"Holy shit, you're so tight," Emily murmured, her kiss-swollen lips glistening under the lights, and Tori was already too far gone to roll her eyes at the line she was sure Emily had pulled straight from a porno. All she could do was spread her legs wider and whimper as Emily's fingers curled inside of her.
Her face disappeared between Tori's thighs once again and Tori let her head loll back, barely cognizant of the words that were coming out of her mouth as Emily pounded into her at a punishing pace. She'd probably be mortified in the morning.
"Fuck yes," she moaned, her voice high and raspy in her own ears, "Don't stop. Oh my fucking God, Emily, you're gonna make me —"
Emily flicked her tongue over the sensitive bundle of nerves and pushed her fingers deeper inside and suddenly Tori was crying out, her nails digging into Emily's back hard enough to break the skin. Her thighs locked around Emily's head, holding her in place as she rode out her orgasm.
When Emily finally sat up, Tori was still spinning, staring up at the ceiling in shock. She couldn't remember the last time anybody had made her come that hard, had been so attuned to her body, but of course Emily was just as amazing at giving head as she was at everything else.
The thought didn't bother her, though she knew for a fact it would have killed her last year. Emily was amazing and Tori loved her for it. It was almost comical how something so layered had become so simple in the end. Tori's petty rivalry with Emily that had carried on for months after she'd stopped resenting her presence, the prickling jealousy she'd brushed off as disgust when men would look her up and down as she ordered their morning coffees. It had always been obvious; an inevitability lurking just out of reach.
Emily crawled up next to her, laying her head on Tori's chest, and Tori ran her fingers through Emily's hair, gently working out the tangles.
Emily broke the silence, draping an arm around Tori's stomach and looking up at her, "I don't think I've ever fucked a celebrity before."
Tori laughed, "So, what, I'm the first of many?"
"Nah," she smiled lazily, "You'd be a tough act to follow."
Tori was sure she was blushing like a fucking schoolgirl as Emily traced aimless patterns into her stomach. All of the soft feelings swarming in her chest made her want to gag. There was a very real possibility that this was the end for her and Emily. Tomorrow, she'd leave for her hard-earned vacation before heading back to Sweden to decide her next steps and Emily would go off on her own.
Maybe she'd hear Emily's voice on the radio or turn on MTV someday to be greeted with a once familiar face she'd half forgotten. Maybe she'd keep the PVR recording of their final performance and watch it ten years from now; try to remember what it had felt like the first time she'd kissed Emily for real. Like a lit fuse and thousands of tiny fireworks behind her ribcage.
Tori tried to push the thoughts from her mind as Emily reached out and tangled their hands together, rubbing slow circles into the side of Tori's wrist with her thumb. For now, Emily was still here and Tori wanted to remember her exactly like this. She wondered how Emily would remember her; in what light and for how long.
"Our song, Tori?" Emily spoke quietly. Uncertain, almost. Tori perked up.
"Yeah?"
"You know it's about you, right?"
There was a fragile sort of vulnerability in Emily's words. Tori felt something inside of her grind to a halt.
"You're shitting me," she tilted Emily's chin with her finger to peer at her, "We weren't even friends back then."
"You weren't friends with me," she emphasized, Tori's look of disbelief spurring her on, "Maybe it was a little aspirational."
Tori barked out a laugh, "God, I hate you sometimes."
It was easier to say than the alternative. I love you. I hope you stay.
"Nope," Emily beamed, pressing a chaste kiss into Tori's collarbone, "You love me."
"Yeah," she sighed in resignation, squeezing Emily's hand, "I do."
Emily was silent for a moment before speaking again, "Do you ever think about what happens after we die?"
Tori gave her a quizzical look, thrown off by the abrupt change of subject, and Emily continued, "I mean like, all of this energy," she placed her free hand flat against the centre of Tori's chest over her heart, "It has to go somewhere, right?"
"I think we just die."
Emily hummed, "I think something sticks around."
"That's a nice thought," she humoured her, "Do you always think about death after sex or am I just special?"
Emily tilted her head, giving her a serious look. "I think your mom's proud of you, Tori," she whispered.
There was nothing Tori could say to convey how badly she needed to hear it, how much it meant for Emily to believe it even if Tori didn't, so she just squeezed her hand again and let her head fall back against the pillow.
"When's your flight back to LA tomorrow?" Tori asked, trying to keep the tension from seeping into her words.
"I haven't booked it yet."
Tori knit her brows together, "Why not?"
"I don't know," Emily drawled, a cautious smile blooming across her lips, "I hear Santorini's beautiful in the summer."