Fic: "My Guilty Skin Like Gasoline," PLL, Emily/Maya, Emily/Toby, PG-13
I knew I'd get around to writing in this fandom eventually. I did NOT realize the urge would strike me first thing in the morning when I should be going to work. Oops.
And this is decidedly pro-Toby from an emotional standpoint, so those expecting a more femslashy angle might be disappointed. (I'll get around to femslash with Emily eventually, I'm sure.)
Title: "My Guilty Skin Like Gasoline" 1/1
Author: monimala
Fandom: Pretty Little Liars
Rating/Classification: PG-13, Emily/Maya, Emily/Toby, het and slash
Disclaimer: Not my characters, not making a profit.
Summary: 550 words. Set after episode 1.8. Emily thought this was supposed to make sense, that it would all click into place.
The entire time Toby is gone --she has to say "gone," she can't say "dead," she can't think "dead"-- she tries to remember him. To remember them. She goes over every conversation they ever had, every smile he gave her. Toby Cavanaugh doesn't really smile; in all his yearbook photos (she flipped through nine years' worth) he looks like hates the world. But he grinned at her… he gave her that gentle curve of his mouth and that awkward laugh and he made her feel like that tentativeness was something special, something they had in common.
She plays the mix CD he gave her on repeat, the music drowning out all the other noise in the room. Even the sound of Maya softy breathing as they make out on top of the covers. Emily thought this was supposed to make sense, that choosing Maya meant it would all click into place and she would just know. But Maya's smiles are confident, almost frightening, and when Emily kisses her, she feels so completely out of her depth.
Their bodies fit fine, even though Maya is smaller than her, slighter. Her collarbone is sharp against Emily's lips and the points of her hips make Emily feel too big, too curvy. It's strange to touch another girl like this, to inch up her T-shirt and explore her skin. Maya laughs and tells her that she won't break and urges, "Don't be shy." But Emily is shy, she's always been quiet. She can't change that for anyone.
Her mouth brushes across Maya's flat stomach. And she remembers Toby. She remembers the bare expanse of his hip, the stark lettering of his tattoo. 901, Free at Last. Long after it stopped terrifying her, after she stopped hearing Spencer talk about how he was awful and evil and a killer, the thought of that ink, of that patch of skin, made her pulse speed up. She wanted to press her lips to it, to trace the script with her tongue. To taste him like she's tasting Maya right now. She thinks Toby would fidget, wind his hands in her hair and beg her to stop (except he would mean "don't stop"). That his skin would flush red and he would tell her things that he's never told anyone. Not even Jenna. Things like, "I'm scared," and "I'm alone," and "I need you."
Maya doesn't say anything. She simply tugs Emily back up and stares at her with a hundred secrets in her eyes. A hundred secrets and one accusation. "Are we alone in this bed?" she asks, a mocking lilt to her voice. For a second, she sounds so much like Ali it's eerie.
Emily thinks of Toby stretched out beside her, his long fingers threading through hers and squeezing. She thinks of how he knew her better than she knew herself. She thinks of how everyone assumed he started the fire… and knows she's going to burn. Because she lies to Maya without even thinking twice about it. "Of course we are," she chuckles. "Who else would be here?"
The entire time Toby is gone --she has to say "gone," she can't say "dead," she can't think "dead"-- she tries to remember him. And she tries to hold on to who she wants to be.
--end--
July 29, 2010
And this is decidedly pro-Toby from an emotional standpoint, so those expecting a more femslashy angle might be disappointed. (I'll get around to femslash with Emily eventually, I'm sure.)
Title: "My Guilty Skin Like Gasoline" 1/1
Author: monimala
Fandom: Pretty Little Liars
Rating/Classification: PG-13, Emily/Maya, Emily/Toby, het and slash
Disclaimer: Not my characters, not making a profit.
Summary: 550 words. Set after episode 1.8. Emily thought this was supposed to make sense, that it would all click into place.
The entire time Toby is gone --she has to say "gone," she can't say "dead," she can't think "dead"-- she tries to remember him. To remember them. She goes over every conversation they ever had, every smile he gave her. Toby Cavanaugh doesn't really smile; in all his yearbook photos (she flipped through nine years' worth) he looks like hates the world. But he grinned at her… he gave her that gentle curve of his mouth and that awkward laugh and he made her feel like that tentativeness was something special, something they had in common.
She plays the mix CD he gave her on repeat, the music drowning out all the other noise in the room. Even the sound of Maya softy breathing as they make out on top of the covers. Emily thought this was supposed to make sense, that choosing Maya meant it would all click into place and she would just know. But Maya's smiles are confident, almost frightening, and when Emily kisses her, she feels so completely out of her depth.
Their bodies fit fine, even though Maya is smaller than her, slighter. Her collarbone is sharp against Emily's lips and the points of her hips make Emily feel too big, too curvy. It's strange to touch another girl like this, to inch up her T-shirt and explore her skin. Maya laughs and tells her that she won't break and urges, "Don't be shy." But Emily is shy, she's always been quiet. She can't change that for anyone.
Her mouth brushes across Maya's flat stomach. And she remembers Toby. She remembers the bare expanse of his hip, the stark lettering of his tattoo. 901, Free at Last. Long after it stopped terrifying her, after she stopped hearing Spencer talk about how he was awful and evil and a killer, the thought of that ink, of that patch of skin, made her pulse speed up. She wanted to press her lips to it, to trace the script with her tongue. To taste him like she's tasting Maya right now. She thinks Toby would fidget, wind his hands in her hair and beg her to stop (except he would mean "don't stop"). That his skin would flush red and he would tell her things that he's never told anyone. Not even Jenna. Things like, "I'm scared," and "I'm alone," and "I need you."
Maya doesn't say anything. She simply tugs Emily back up and stares at her with a hundred secrets in her eyes. A hundred secrets and one accusation. "Are we alone in this bed?" she asks, a mocking lilt to her voice. For a second, she sounds so much like Ali it's eerie.
Emily thinks of Toby stretched out beside her, his long fingers threading through hers and squeezing. She thinks of how he knew her better than she knew herself. She thinks of how everyone assumed he started the fire… and knows she's going to burn. Because she lies to Maya without even thinking twice about it. "Of course we are," she chuckles. "Who else would be here?"
The entire time Toby is gone --she has to say "gone," she can't say "dead," she can't think "dead"-- she tries to remember him. And she tries to hold on to who she wants to be.
--end--
July 29, 2010