I tried SO FREAKING HARD to post this yesterday, and the stupid website just WOULD NOT let me post it. So, sorry about that! This one is dedicated to you guys... you deserve it for sticking with us!
Chapter 8: Which Way, Which Way
I'm half-asleep and half-dreaming; I know I'm half-dreaming because I'm in this same bed, but Sara is with me, and it's the night before that fucking video leaked and our lives ended. But I'm not dreaming; I'm remembering, and I wish I could retreat into this memory and never come out again, because things were almost okay then, just then, and for the last time.
It had been a good show. We'd had dinner together at a local place afterwards - Sara and I, Jamie, the band - and when the buses rolled out, Sara and Jamie and I had watched some TV shows that we had on DVD. It was simple and good and I think everyone was in good spirits. Nobody was drunk or high and nobody had cried all day and while we were all there on the bus together, with no danger of anyone else suddenly intruding, I felt safe. Even so, it surprised me when I felt Sara's fingertips lightly trace over the inside of my forearm as we sat and watched the screen. It was late. I was sleepy but wanted to see the end of the show; Jamie had already fallen asleep on the end of the sofa, next to me; Sara finally gave up trying to stay awake and went to bed. When the show ended, I covered Jamie with a blanket, and she didn't move. I crouched down in front of her, so I could see her face. She was out. I smiled and kissed her forehead and went to the back of the bus to find Sara already asleep.
Something stirs in my guts as I see her there, lying on her back, with one arm flung back over her head. She's wearing a white v-neck t-shirt that she'd bought for six dollars in the boys' underwear department at Wal-Mart in Edmonton a few years ago, along with a pair of flannel pajama pants, blue, with little penguins on them. She's out cold and there's no reason not to look at her, no danger in it, so I look. I creep softly over to my side of the bed and sit down quietly next to her and do what I am normally too ashamed or embarrassed or scared to do even though I always want to: I allow my eyes to slowly move over her, to study her, her face, her body, all of it. In sleep, her face is different. She so often has this kind of cool reserve in her look, which I know is a mask but not many other people do, and now in sleep she just looks sweet, and without that coolness, her expression is gentle, her lips soft. My eyes move slowly down to the creamy white triangle of skin visible above her v-neck, and down over the full curve of her breasts, the slice of her belly between the t-shirt and the waistband of her children's pajama pants. And then, I can't help myself; I softly touch her belly with my fingertips; she moans a little but doesn't really wake up. I lay down next to her, propped up on one elbow, but then things are happening down below and holy Jesus, I want to touch her. I want her lips and her tongue and her body and her hands on me. I want to smell her so I lower my face, close to hers, to her hair, and breathe deeply, that green apple smell, and I touch her hair with my lips, and then her neck, warm and soft and she makes a murmuring sound but that's all.
"Sara. . ." I whisper, kissing her below her ear, and then on the triangle of flesh at her throat, that indentation that nobody knows the name of. She mumbles something, so I move my face close to hers.
"Tegan. . . I'm. . . asleep," she murmurs, not opening her eyes, and I kiss her lips softly. I want her to wake up so I can peel that t-shirt off of her and kiss her breasts. The shape of her nipples is visible through the thin white cotton. They're small and hard and I want to feel them; one of my hands slips under her shirt and up her stomach, over her ribcage and then the soft warm curve of her breast and she's so fucking delicious, I can't stand it. "Tegan. . . sleeeeeeeeeep," she moans, laying her hand over my hand, where it came to rest on her chest.
"I want you," I whisper, and I'm already wet but she's really, really asleep.
"Love you. . . go to sleep. . . " she murmurs, and I give up.
"Okay," I whisper, kissing her again, and her lips move just a little in response to mine, and then I lay down on my back next to her but there's no way I can sleep now. I'm lying with my left shoulder touching her right, and I can hear her deep breaths and feel her warmth and it's making me warmer, and after a minute of hesitation my right hand moves slowly down into my underwear. So yeah, I'm all wet down there already and when my fingers slide down, things start to swell and so I think I can just quietly quickly take care of it and go to sleep next to her so I start to make slow circles and to help move it along, I imagine things. I imagine Jamie and Sara together; in my mind I see Sara push Jamie's thighs open and I see the look on Jamie's face as Sara drew her tongue all the way through her. I think of looking up the length of Sara's naked body as Jamie kissed her deeply, her tongue sliding into Sara's mouth, and that made me burn all over for so many reasons, and I feel the heat of Jamie kissing me that way, too, when she's on top of me and my legs are wrapped around her, her hair brushing over my shoulder as she's pushing her hips into me and she's deep inside me, making my body shake. Then my generous mind takes me back to the time in my bunk, when the rarest of moments happened and Sara opened for me and my fingers felt the inside of her as she squeezed me and said my nameas she came. All of these thoughts are with me as my fingers press and stroke faster and I must move the bed a little or make a sound, I guess, because Sara mutters and rolls and then there is a quiet moment and then-
"Tegan. . ." her groggy voice, "what. . . are you. . . ohh," she says quietly, realizing, and for a moment I'm intensely embarrassed because even though it's pretty dark, I'm not under the blankets and she'll be able to see me with my hand inside my shorts but I can't stop now, even though her eyes are on me. What is she going to think?
For a moment I turn my head to her and open my eyes and her eyes are on me.
"Tegan. . . are you touching yourself?" she asks me in a low voice and I nod and don't stop, but I have to close my eyes because really, it's too much. "Did you get all hot but I wouldn't wake up?" she asks, her voice soft, with a slight hint of amusement and I nod again. "Were you all frustrated?" she goes on and I open my eyes and look into her eyes again and see it, the warmth, the amusement, and something else.
"Yeah," I manage to say and I see her eyes move down to where my hand is moving still.
"Are you almost there?" she whispers, and I nod again, her question sending a jolt right to where my fingers are touching. "Do you. . . need. . . help?" she whispers and I nod for the last time as she is on me, suddenly, first her hands on my face as she kisses me, so intensely, and I moan a little because of it. Her hand slides down my body and into my shorts, over my own fingers there and after a few moments I withdraw my hand because hers is better and her fingers are on me now, stroking where I was already almost there.
"Ohhhh," I can't help but whimper at the way her fingers touch me.
"You're so wet already," she whispers, and my face burns because we don't talk like that, Sara doesn't.
"Mmmhmmm," I agree.
"Why?" she asks, her breath on my neck as her hand presses and circles and I press my hips up against her hand because it's so fucking good and I can't help it.
"Because. . . of you," I whisper.
"What did I do to make you wet? I was asleep. . ." she murmurs, kissing me and then biting my lower lip very lightly.
"Because. . . you looked so good and I. . ." I try to explain, losing track of my sentence with the burning between my legs while tugging at the waistband of her penguin pants. It's awkward but I pull at them, my fingers slipping under the back of her underwear too, sliding them down a little and she shifts, helping, and they're gone and both of my hands are on her naked hips, and then her fingers are slowing their rhythm, stroking more softly, oh no, no, don't stop.
"Ohhhh," I say instead of don't stop and she kisses me again and again, her tongue filling my mouth as my hand finds the inside of her thigh and then the place where she is hot and wet from touching me and she gasps a little. I was almost there and she backed off and it is making me a bit crazy but with one hand around her waist, holding her, my other hand is stroking her and she swells and warms against my fingers and with her mouth on mine, she makes little moaning sounds that make me even more wet and we touch each other, like that, together, and she's on top of me and I pull her shirt up her back and over her head with my other hand. Her fingers move against me a little faster again and her thigh is between my legs and feeling her too with my fingers and hearing her moaning in my ear is going to make me come soon, no matter what she does and I want her to come with me. So hard to concentrate on touching her when she's touching me, God, I want to let go and just let her take me away. She is on me and she slides up a little, which is good for my wrist but also, I can reach her breast with my mouth, so I slide my tongue over her hard nipple, close my lips around it and I can feel her response to that on my fingers as her head drops close to my ear, her breath warm there, deepening, and she's pressing against me with her thigh, with her fingers and it's building and I start to feel little spasms and I forget what my fingers are supposed to be doing for a second until a little painful moan from Sara snaps me out of it but oh I think I will finish before her but no, together, together so I increase the intensity of my fingers' movement against her, sliding down and back up, all the way through the hot wetness until she starts moaning again in my ear, and she's pressing now with her hips so that her thigh presses her own hand against me, harder, and my hand is pressed between her legs, and against my own body, and she grinds against it as she gets closer, and I get closer, and I kiss her chest above me, her skin hot and a little damp now and I look up at her face, her hair falling over her eyes, her mouth open a little, her brow furrowed as she rocks and sways there and just as I can't hold out any longer, her face tenses, her eyes close tight and her head goes back, holy God, she's so fucking beautiful and seeing her start to come makes the inside of me contract so hard, and that heat floods through me, and I make a sound in my throat, I don't know how loud it is, but she does too and my fingers are tingling as her belly spasms against me and my own spasms force my back to arch and I squeeze Sara's ass, pulling her into me a few more times and then her legs are trembling and she goes limp on top of me.
"Oh God," she murmurs as we breathe together, for a moment, pressed together, and I move my hands slowly up her sides, over her hot, damp skin, my fingers wet with her, and I'm not done.
She makes a surprised mmmm sound as I roll her onto her back. Her face is flushed, damp; I kiss her mouth and she gives me her tongue and we have the same lips and I can never get enough of her lips, I can kiss her until they're chapped and sore, kiss her till they bleed, till they're numb, it's never enough.
Her hands slip around my waist as I press down on her, and she is tugging my damp shirt and pulling it up and over, and her hands around me unhook my bra and pull it away and oh, her naked warmth against my chest, together, I'm dizzy.
I kiss her mouth one more time, start my descent. How much of her skin can I taste on my way down? My lips on her neck, then her shoulders as her arms are around me. I kiss her chest, and then her hands are in my hair, on the back of my neck, and I feel her breasts with my hands, my mouth, and down, down. When I kiss her belly, it jumps, spasming under my lips.
"Tegan," she whispers, anxiously. We both know I haven't been down there when we were alone. We were drunk and Jamie was there and it happened and this moment now, alone, and sober, is so real. I look up at her eyes as I kiss her belly again, lower. "Tegan, it's. . . I'm. . . uh. . ." She's nervous, aroused. Her cheeks are red.
"It's okay," I whisper, and now my body is between her thighs, my hands on her hips, my lips graze over her navel, and I meet her eyes again. "I want all of you." She bites her lip.
"I. . . um. . ." she tries to say, but it's hard, because she can't close her legs; I'm lying between them, and I'm kissing her lower than her belly now, and I circle around the part of her that she wants to hide from me, and I kiss her hip bone, and lower, and one hand under her thigh raises one knee and I kiss her there on the inside of her thigh, the softest skin I've ever touched and I look at her again, her lips parted, uncertain.
"Tegan you. . . you don't have to. . ." and that surprises me, because I hadn't realized that she thought that.
"I want to. . ." I say, because oh my God.
"I'm not. . . it's not. . ."
"You're mine," I say. "It's mine. . ." and I press her knees back, and in a moment her legs are over my shoulders, and my hands on her stomach can feel her quick breaths, her nerves, and I feel like every girl I've ever been with has just been practice for this moment. I kiss her there and she gasps; I press my tongue into her slowly, and she moans.
I press against her thighs and she opens for me more. I want to taste everything; I taste the inside of her, hot and soft, and my tongue moves up, circles around the swollen part of her and her hips move, and she presses herself against my mouth and moans as I gently lick and suck at that tenderest part. Her hands are in my hair, pulling me to her and I can tell it won't take long.
Her hips are rocking now, against my mouth, and I can hear her murmuring, moaning, her breaths heavy and quickening. It's only a few more minutes, and her thighs are trembling and her breathing is quicker, and then quicker, and her moans become whimpers of "oh. . . oh. . . oh. . ."and she grabs my head with both of her hands and squeezes me to her.
"Oh fuck!" she cries out and I wonder for a second if Jamie can hear us but Sara's second cry is muffled. Her belly spasms under my hands and as my tongue flicks against her for a few more seconds, I'm surprised to hear her voice intensify behind whatever is muffling it, and then a trembling "Ohhhhhhh!" and she squeezes my head with her thighs, tightly, just as things suddenly get very wet. My face, her thighs, the sheets, all wet. "Oh my God," she moans, "Oh. . . oh fuck. . ." She's pulling on me now, and I quickly wipe my face on the sheet and return to her and her arms encircle me. "Oh my God, what. . .?" she breathes, squeezing me. Her voice, embarrassed, shocked.
"Did I. . . your face. . ." she says, and I pull the sheets over us and lay against the length of her naked body and I can still feel it trembling. "Oh God, I'm sorry," she moans, wiping a bit of wetness off of my chin with her fingers. "That's just. . . oh God."
"Haha, it's okay," I say, grinning at her, because it really, really is.
"Shocking," she whispers.
"Awesome," I say, smiling, a warm swelling of satisfaction in my chest, and I kiss her, and then lay down next to her and we curl to face each other. Her hands on my face, she moves closer, takes a breath.
"It's like I. . . peed on you. . ." she murmurs.
"It's totally not like that," I disagree.
"Oh my God, that. . . I didn't think that was. . . a real. . . thing," she says through her deep breaths, "that felt. . . " she can't finish and so I kiss her again, slowly, deeply, and the warmth of her skin and her arms around me are too much and my head spins. I watch her fingers trace over the tattoos on my arm, and in the silver light they are all black and white. My heart is so full, and it's fine for a moment, just now, because we're all alone and it's quiet and we're safe. Jamie is asleep on the sofa and she knows us and it's okay and nobody will come through that door. For a moment it feels like it doesn't have to be anyone else's business. She's just mine and I'm hers and we were designed that way and fuck everybody. This feeling overwhelms me because it's beautiful and I know it will leave me and we'll be scared again so I feel my eyes start to fill up and I bite my lip. Sara's hands, on my face, pulling closer.
"Hey, shhh," she says, knowing. I blink, shake my head.
"I'm okay," I say as her brow creases in sympathy.
"Don't cry, Tee," she whispers and I smile a little.
"I won't," I say back to her, and I don't. Instead, we kiss again and again, arms around each other, trying to put ourselves back together.