Fic for Skins50: Hungover on a Tuesday
Written for the community skins50 , prompt #6- awkward
Sort of follows from the last fic, #32-Hips (Don't Lie), but it's more...sober :P
#06: Awkward- Hungover on a Tuesday
Emily woke up suddenly, her recovered consciousness accompanied by intense pain. She attempted to open her eyes, but that only made it worse. She reflexively raised a hand to her forehead and groaned. As she tried to sit up she heard footsteps coming towards her.
“You awake Ems?”
Emily froze. The voice belonged to Cook. What the hell had she done last night?
She forced herself to open her eyes to at least a squint, and propped herself up on her elbows. The room, and bed for that matter, that she was in were completely unfamiliar. She remembered going to a party, getting wasted… Her memory after that was almost blank. Cook was standing over her though, and that could only lead to one conclusion.
“Hi…” she finally replied. “Um…how did I get here?” Cook began to laugh, but stopped when he saw her wince.
“Wow babe, how wasted were you exactly? Do you not remember anything?”
“I was at Thomas’s party, I took some pills and got drunk…”
“Yeah, then I got there and we started dancing. You were all over me, so I brought you back here and we got it on,” Cook said with an enormous grin. “Who would have thought you were secretly such a little freak?” Emily let herself fall back down onto the bed, covering her eyes with one arm.
“This is bad…”
“I beg to differ,” Cook said, plopping down on the edge of the bed, “you’re quite an excellent shag. The only problem is you don’t seem to remember how much fun you had.” He patted her thigh. Emily almost smacked his hand away, but this was awkward enough.
“Um, Cook…how do I put this…” She sat back up to look at him.
He interrupted, “Try, ‘Cookie, you’re amazing and I’m sure once I remember I’ll be quite pleased with the experience and maybe give it another go while sober.’” He was obviously trying not to laugh. The shit-eating grin was only making things worse.
“Right, I was thinking more along the lines of…if I had been in my right mind this never would have happened. Since I’m gay…” The grin faded as Cook’s jaw slowly unhinged. This coming-out shit was never going to get easier, was it?
Cook was only phased momentarily, however. The grin returned as he replied, “Well, you might want to give bisexuality a go, cause let me tell you, last night…” Emily wanted to slap the heel of her hand into her forehead, but stopped herself just in time.
“Look, Cook,” she stopped him, “could you try to convince me to give up pussy later, say after breakfast and coffee? And for now, could I get some painkillers?” Cook let out a low chuckle.
“Right, babe, right. No problem.” As his footsteps retreated, Emily swung her feet over the side of the bed and rested her elbows on her knees, head in her hands.
It was going to be another bloody brilliant morning.
Sort of follows from the last fic, #32-Hips (Don't Lie), but it's more...sober :P
#06: Awkward- Hungover on a Tuesday
Emily woke up suddenly, her recovered consciousness accompanied by intense pain. She attempted to open her eyes, but that only made it worse. She reflexively raised a hand to her forehead and groaned. As she tried to sit up she heard footsteps coming towards her.
“You awake Ems?”
Emily froze. The voice belonged to Cook. What the hell had she done last night?
She forced herself to open her eyes to at least a squint, and propped herself up on her elbows. The room, and bed for that matter, that she was in were completely unfamiliar. She remembered going to a party, getting wasted… Her memory after that was almost blank. Cook was standing over her though, and that could only lead to one conclusion.
“Hi…” she finally replied. “Um…how did I get here?” Cook began to laugh, but stopped when he saw her wince.
“Wow babe, how wasted were you exactly? Do you not remember anything?”
“I was at Thomas’s party, I took some pills and got drunk…”
“Yeah, then I got there and we started dancing. You were all over me, so I brought you back here and we got it on,” Cook said with an enormous grin. “Who would have thought you were secretly such a little freak?” Emily let herself fall back down onto the bed, covering her eyes with one arm.
“This is bad…”
“I beg to differ,” Cook said, plopping down on the edge of the bed, “you’re quite an excellent shag. The only problem is you don’t seem to remember how much fun you had.” He patted her thigh. Emily almost smacked his hand away, but this was awkward enough.
“Um, Cook…how do I put this…” She sat back up to look at him.
He interrupted, “Try, ‘Cookie, you’re amazing and I’m sure once I remember I’ll be quite pleased with the experience and maybe give it another go while sober.’” He was obviously trying not to laugh. The shit-eating grin was only making things worse.
“Right, I was thinking more along the lines of…if I had been in my right mind this never would have happened. Since I’m gay…” The grin faded as Cook’s jaw slowly unhinged. This coming-out shit was never going to get easier, was it?
Cook was only phased momentarily, however. The grin returned as he replied, “Well, you might want to give bisexuality a go, cause let me tell you, last night…” Emily wanted to slap the heel of her hand into her forehead, but stopped herself just in time.
“Look, Cook,” she stopped him, “could you try to convince me to give up pussy later, say after breakfast and coffee? And for now, could I get some painkillers?” Cook let out a low chuckle.
“Right, babe, right. No problem.” As his footsteps retreated, Emily swung her feet over the side of the bed and rested her elbows on her knees, head in her hands.
It was going to be another bloody brilliant morning.