I DO NOT OWN ANY CHARACTERS ASSOCIATED WITH LIP SERVICE OR ANY LYRICS FROM TEGAN AND SARA.

Frankie gets all heated thinking about Cat and her hand starts to slide…Oneshot. Flashbacks. A strong sexual nature. Based around the time before the romance is rekindled.

Fuck. I can't do this.

"I'm sorry," I tell the short, red haired girl that has been the poor sap chosen to come to my flat. "I can't do this. You're going to have to leave."

"Huh?" her pretty face fills with mild confusion, then, slowly, like every girl over this past week, to utter and complete rage. "You're having a fucking laugh, right?"

"Here." I roll off her, fumble in my wallet. "I'll pay for your taxi. Whatever. Just tell me your address."

"Don't bother," she snaps, dragging her tights back on with such force that she manages to rip ladders in both legs. "Go and fuck yourself. Psycho."

Me the psycho? I think, as she stumbles out of the flat, slamming the door behind her, never to be seen again. I lock the door right behind her, return to my room, and collapse on my bed. My iPod plays softly in the background, Tegan and Sara, The Con. Every word reminds me before it's even sung.

I roll over onto my back, slide my hands behind my head. Why is she everywhere? Why does she slip into my mind at times like these? Don't get me wrong, she's always stuck in there now. I can't sleep with anyone. Not Sadie. Not some nameless, faceless girl accessible to me in every bar. No one. Means fuck all to me.

Any more.

"I followed suit and laid out on my back imagine that
A million hours left to think of you
And think of that"

I can't think because I've lost myself in this song. I flick it onto repeat, I love it. I open the dresser drawer beside me, fumbling for a familiar pill, a familiar sensation, and slip it onto my tongue. E helps me. It helps relax, it helps my heart, my head, it helps me heal on a temporary basis. Opening my eyes several minutes later, the change is mind-blowing. The colours of my ordinary bedroom are far more intense, the music echoes around me, sensualising me. If I was horny before, I can feel brand new sensations encircling me. I feel my hand slipping of its own accord. Down, down, into my boxers. Oh, fuck.

I try to empty my mind, which prevents me from thinking of anything other than Cat. I pulse, and throb. I bite hard into my wrist. My favourite part of Cat - although I love everything about her - has always been her mouth, and right now, I know if she was here, I would be cumming into that mouth. I start to fantasize – more, and more. Try not to think about that last time we made love, before I moved away to New York, because I hurt her - and it's a painful memory. But that first time…

Cat. She's not the type you would call dominant. That first time…we stood in her room, avoiding one another's gaze for the longest time, before I made the first move. She's smaller than me, so I leaned down to give her a kiss I never wanted her to forget. Her expression was pure love, pure agony.

Pure. We lost control after my tongue began gently teasing hers, and wrestled one another onto the bed, holding hands, I was on top, she forced me on my back and climbed on top of me, her hands gripping my hair...our pants were off. I wanted to touch her so badly that I though I was about to explode but she moved my hand away...

She rubbed herself against me… my below ached for her. I could tell she loved it – she was biting her lip. Her expression was painfully haunted for a moment, and then….I felt her rocking above me, about to release. The tell-tale wetness that had seeped from her and all over me…well, well. I knew I may have found her weakness. I had. She was biting her lip and crying out for me. She was a grinder. I loved it. She came all over me. When I touched her, she collapsed in my arms and lost herself a second time, grinding herself all over me, crying out my name softly, oh so softly, in my ear. Christ.

– Those memories are satisfying enough for me, I am so deeply into them that I forget I am alone, manipulating myself, and start to lose control. I can't remember ever having an orgasm this powerful, apart from every time I slept with Cat. The pleasure when I cum is agonizing, earth-shattering. After the first time, I am still not spent – it takes another twenty minutes before I finally feel some sort of release. I come, and come, and come, and after the final time, I remember that she is no longer mine but now Sam's; and Sam has this power over her, and I taste salt in my mouth - I'm crying recklessly, sobbing uncontrollably, and I can't stop.

Cat?

Oh, Cat.