It's A Heart Attack That You Feel

by heavy80

Tegan and Sara's biggest fan discovers their biggest secret. She's known the twins for years but didn't know just what she was in for when she started to get pulled into their personal crisis. WARNING: Quincest, twincest, incest - Don't like it, don't read it.

60. And I Might Die

Happy Halloween! Here it is, finally, as promised! We've missed you guys... we want you to write us a little note about how you feel at the end of this chapter. )

Part IV: Chapter 12 - And I Might Die

We talked and it was good, but she said she needed time to think, and I understood. I'd just showed up on her front steps and dumped all of my emotions on her and who wouldn't need time to think after that? I was just happy she had let me in. I had felt a rush of relief when she said yes when I asked if I could kiss her, and combined with that, doubt as to whether I should be doing it at all. But the desire to do it won out and so I did it anyway. It was warm and sweet and her friend interrupted and when I came back, she was uncertain again and I understand that. So I'm uncertain too and I don't really know what I'm doing, and I'm alone in this strange room and there's a room in between us where her parents are sleeping and I just wish I wasn't alone, wish the wind were not whipping the branches of a tree against the dark pane of glass, gusts of rain tapping and spattering too, on the second floor of this family home in this quiet foreign suburb. I'm lost, I'm alone, and this is making me feel more lost and more alone. I've never been good with the dark, never been good at being alone, and I've never been as alone as I am now.

I've spent a few hours trying to sleep but I'm anxious. I wish I could stop thinking of Sara because now it's just hard to think of her without thinking of the last thing she said to me. I wish I could just remember what I wanted to. The softness of her lips, that wave of pleasure rolling through me as her chest pressed against me, her hips between my thighs. Her voice dropping low that time, that one time when we lay together and she said I love you and things seemed possible. But I can't think of those things now without the sharp sting of her last words to me, and the hollow ache that comes with remembering that, followed, like now, by the widest, darkest void. I'm alone, alone.

I can't lie here and cry in a room belonging to a stranger, while Jamie's parents sleep in the room next to mine. If Jamie's room were next to it, I could at least let my imagination tell me that she was near me, and maybe I'd feel less like I was floating on a life raft in the vast ocean, at night, a night with no stars. It's scaring me now, my mind. It is betraying me and tricking me because I am safe in a warm family home, where Jamie grew up, and I'm not being plunged into darkness so why does my mind try to make me believe that I am? It scares me.

I don't want to do this because there is nothing harder than asking for something when you know you have no right to, but I start to feel the panic in my chest and it threatens to swallow me and so I slip out of this stranger's bed, dragging the blanket with me like a little kid, and go quietly down the hall to Jamie's room. Her door is closed; I open it, just a crack, and peer in. I can see the shape of her, because her curtains are open and there is a cold dim light from the street lamps washing over her. She doesn't move, so I creep in, quietly, because if she hears me I'll be ashamed. She'll think I didn't listen to her, didn't understand when she said she needed time to think, and I need to respect that but I can't be in that room alone right now, I can't. So I crawl in and lay down on that little rug next to the bed again and twist the blanket around me. For a moment I just lie there and listen to her breathing, slow and deep and steady, and it is strangely soothing. I try to match her breathing because maybe that will help me fall asleep but that reminds me of Sara too so I stop.

My eyes have adjusted and it's so surreal to be lying here and looking at framed pictures of me and Sara on the walls, looking down at me. Jamie is in some of them with us, some I don't even remember taking, some where we all look younger and me and Sara are making stupid faces at the camera the way we did before digital cameras came around and people started showing us what we looked like when we did that. I don't even remember if I'd known her name yet when those were taken. Surreal to think of how things can change and shift in such a small space of time. She was a fan, then an employee, and then a friend, and then more than a friend, almost a lover. She was a lover. It confuses me now, the way I feel, with my heart divided like this. With Sara, it's a need, a kind of crazy hunger that drives me insane, and all our tenderness is soaked in shame and fear and there's no way to separate it. But from Jamie, I feel warmth, and passion, and attraction, and it's healing and it wraps around me and makes me forget to hate being me, just for a while.

I hear her roll over on her side and I wish I could get into bed with her and curl up against her and sleep that way. If I did that, maybe she'd half wake up for just a second and put one arm around me and cuddle up against me and I would be able to sleep. I wish that I could make that happen. I can't, though, because I told her to go and said I was sorry I'd ever met her and even though I apologized and she forgave me, there's still this rift between us and it's my fault. She came into the bathroom that night in Berlin and said I'm sorry and I love you and I said those things to her, and she left and now I don't know if it will ever really be okay.

So I'm exhausted and I didn't feel it coming until it was almost upon me but I have lost so much of my control these last few days that I start to cry before I can think of stifling it, and then I hold the blanket against my face because I don't want her to hear me but she shifts up on the bed above me.

"Tegan?" she says, her voice groggy, half-asleep.

"I'm sorry," I tell her, not knowing what else to say but the truth. "I was. . ." What can I say? Scared? Lonely? Sad? Lost? Sorry? I don't know. So I don't finish my sentence. And after a moment of quiet, she speaks again.

"Come up here, then," she says, sleepily, and she's still so gentle with me, even after everything. I hesitate because I can't make assumptions anymore. "Tegan, come up here," she says again, so I hesitantly look up over the edge of the bed and she lifts the blankets for me so I crawl up into the bed and she covers me with her blankets and her warmth is all around me and now there is nothing I can do about the tears.

"Shh," she whispers to me as I lay facing her, and to my surprise, she moves in a little closer and gently touches my cheek, wipes my tears away with her fingers, again, like she did in Vancouver, and I think my heart will burst now because I didn't expect that. "Shh, you're okay, it's okay," she says softly and kisses my forehead, and then my eyes, and then moves her face away a little and looks at me and gives me a little sad smile, her fingers brush my hair back. "Go to sleep," she murmurs, so I move in close to her body and she puts one arm around my waist and we both sleep.

I wake up some time later- I don't know how much later, but it is still very dark - and she is asleep, with her back to me. I slide over a little closer, nestling my body against hers. She doesn't move. And then, I can't help myself, because she's so warm and I smell her hair and so I press my lips against the soft warm cotton of her t-shirt, between her shoulder blades. Maybe it's the late hour, or maybe it's the dream I've just had of watching her kissing Sara while I tasted Sara's wetness, but whatever it is, I'm not completely awake and I don't try very hard to resist it. It feels like such a long time since I've felt anything warm and good, since I've been near someone like this, and it's making my hands tremble a little. My hips and thighs are curled around hers, and my heart races a little as I lay one hand on her thigh and then move it up slowly over her hip, because I shouldn't be doing this. I don't have her permission. I run my hand over her hip and up her side, and kiss the back of her neck, and I hear a tiny little groan. Is she awake? Is she dreaming?

My hand slides back down to her waist, and then under her t-shirt, my fingers tracing gently over the skin of her belly, and when she takes a deep breath, she presses back against me, and without warning the sensation makes me a little wet. Is she awake?

And then I withdraw my hand quickly because she is rolling over to face me and suddenly her arm is around me, pulling me to her, and we are both so warm from being under the blankets together and now we are pressed together, a different kind of heat moves through me and I latch onto that feeling, follow it. . . I don't want to let it go, but it seems like she is still asleep. So now, with her face just a couple of inches from mine on the pillow, and her arm around my waist, I slide one hand over her hip again, and up under the back of her shirt, feeling her warm smooth skin with my fingers. Again, there is a tiny moan from her, barely awake, and she just murmurs something and keeps sleeping with my body against her, our legs tangling together.

Her arms are loose around my body; I smooth her hair back with one hand and realize how sweet she looks, sleeping like that, and then I can't resist, my lips are against her neck, softly, and then below her ear. She is breathing deeply against me and and then she murmurs again. She moves one leg over my hip, so I pull my hips in closer to her and press against her with my thigh, there, just a little. Her face is just there, in front of me, and I feel warm in the pit of my stomach and it's starting to spread. She must be a little bit awake now because she is softly rubbing my back through my t-shirt and her face is so close to mine and I want to kiss her mouth but I push the feeling down. Instead, I trace a finger over her eyebrow, down her cheekbone, and brush it across her lips. My heart does a quick jump, then, when her eyes open and I feel a little stupid, touching her like that while she sleeps, my thigh pressing slightly between her legs.

"Jamie," I whisper, not sure what to say next because I want her but I can't just touch her and assume she wants it like I did before. Things are different now. But I need her, I need to feel something other than this hollowness, this ache. I need her warmth. I need her to pull me out of this dark hole, like she did before. It's selfish, maybe, but I need to feel something other than this and my memories of how good it felt to touch her have never been closer than they are right now.

"Are you okay?" she murmurs, so sleepy, and I nod against the pillow, and press my hips forward into her, just a little, causing my thigh to rub against her and a small noise comes from her throat. I take a deep breath to try to slow my breathing and sigh a little.

"You're so warm. . ." I tell her, moving my face closer to hers, and then I shiver because her fingers are in my hair.

"So are you," she answers, and her hand moves down my side, over my hip, along my thigh. We are both breathing together, deeply; I feel her breath on my lips and I want her mouth. She presses her hips against me too as her hand on my hip pulls me to her. I need to feel her, her skin, her lips, her hands on me. I feel my pulse in my throat and in my underwear where things are already wet. God I wish I could ask her to touch me. . .

The heat from our bodies pressed together, her hips against mine, her hands on my body and mine on hers. . . all of this is gathering inside me. I move my face so that my lower lip brushes against hers, so lightly. I close my eyes and she kisses me, softly, slowly, for a few seconds, and then moves her face away and we look at each other again. Her eyes on me as her hand moves over my body, it gives me chills. Her hand slides over the front of my t-shirt, over my belly and then my heart jumps as it suddenly changes direction and moves over my breast and I shiver again as I feel my nipple harden under her fingers, her teasing fingers. They don't linger there long; her hand moves up, around the back of my neck. I want her hands on my skin and I want her mouth on me but instead her lips touch mine so briefly and she bites my lower lip a little and pulls away again. I make a little moan, I can't help it. I move my face towards hers but she pulls away and rolls over me so I'm on my back with her on top of me, her weight on me making me even more wet, and she pushes her hips down into mine and I moan again. Why won't she kiss me?

"What do you want me to do?" she whispers, and she's breathing a little heavily too, and I move my hands up her thighs and over her ass as she teases, slowly pushing her hips into me, over and over, like she did the first time I fastened my harness around her and she made me come until my legs shook.

And then she kisses me again, but this time, I catch my breath because the kiss is slow and deep and I can feel it everywhere. I moan a little and pull her hips against me as my legs circle around her and I press my hips into her too, needing her. Her body is slowly, rhythmically sliding against mine and between that and this endless kiss I don't know how much more I can stand. My hands slip under the back of her shirt. I need her skin. She touches my body, over my shirt, her fingers on my nipple making me pulsate more intensely in the place where her pelvis is pressing, and all this fabric between us is making me crazy.

Her mouth moves from my mouth to my neck and she's sliding against me, on top of me, and I'm all swollen and hot and I think I just whimpered a little. I squeeze her ass because she is grinding against me slowly and I need more. I think of what I'd be feeling right now if she were wearing the strap on and pushing into me like this and that thought sends a strong jolt right between my legs, making me ache for her.

"Jamie," I breathe, just before her lips are on mine again. When I press my tongue against hers, her breaths get heavier, quicker, and her breasts press against mine and she's hot too, I can feel it.

"Mmmm?" she murmurs. I take a breath as her hand slides up inside my shirt, her skin on my skin, finally, and her hand moves over my breast, slowly stroking it, my nipple against her palm.

"I'm. . . I. . ." I try to tell her but with her hands on me like that this slow wave is starting and I think I'm going to come, but God, I need her to touch me, this grinding against each other in our pajamas is making me insane.

"Hmm?" she asks me, now looking in my eyes as she pushes down into my hips again and again and even though I feel like I'm going to come, I can't stop, my hips rocking against hers and I look back at her. Her face is flushed too, her lips a little open, her hair falling in her face, but she's on top of me and she is controlling this situation and I think I'm going to scream.

"Ohhhh," I moan, involuntarily, and she laughs at me, softly.

"Sshhhh," she says, but keeps pushing against me.

"I . . . Uh. . ."

"What do you need?" she asks, and my hips are thrusting against her now beyond my control and the little single bed is squeaking each time I push my hips up, bumping against the wall she shares with her parents. I can't answer. God, my arms and legs are starting to tingle. I moan and bite her shoulder, slide my hand up over her breast, which doesn't at all help the ache that's building inside of me. Is she ever going to touch me? I can feel how wet I am now and I think she is enjoying teasing me. The sounds I'm making, and the squeaking of the bed. . .

"Come on," she whispers, pulling me down onto the floor with her, and we roll over each other on the rug but she turns me over and she's on top of me again but now her hand is between my legs, oh God.

"Ohhhh Jamie. . ." I moan a little too loudly.

"Haha, shhh," she giggles, "my parents. . ." I can't even care about that. They could be standing over us, watching Jamie stroke and rub me as my hips rise up against her hand over and over, trying to find relief. "Tegan, you're so wet. . ." she whispers, and I die because I know that, but she can feel it through my pants? Oh, no, no, I'm going to. .

"Jamie, I, now, I'm-"

"What?" she murmurs against my lips as she kisses me and the wave is rising, it's happening, and if I could stop moving, it would stop, so I grab her wrist to stop her but no, I pull on her and she knows, she finds the exact spot, oh fuck.

"Jamie - stop-" I stutter, oh no, it's happening. I want her fingers, I want her touch on my skin, God. I want to slow it all down but -

"And what if I don't?" she says, low and breathy, and I moan.

"If. . . I'm. . . I'm going. . . I'm. . ."

"Are you coming, Tegan?" she asks, her voice warm, sexy, a hint of laughter, it's too late.

"Uh huh," I moan and my back tenses as the spasms start. "Ohhh God," and then it happens, the inside of me contracts so hard, I suck in my breath and she puts a hand over my mouth before I cry out, her laugh quiet by my ear, my arms squeezing her as the spasms come again, and again, and my legs are shaking and now my pants are so wet it is just shocking.

"Holy fuck," I breathe, almost panting. She kisses me. "God," I say again, and I'm embarrassed because of how much I needed that and because I just came in my pants. I feel almost how I felt when Sara saw me touching myself and the memory of that makes my heart contract and she sees it because her look softens.

"Are you okay?" she whispers, and I am but now I need her fingers, or something, now, please.

"Mmhmm," I say instead of all that. Her hand is still between my legs, but it isn't moving. I'm shy, somehow, but I take hold of her hand and pull it up to my waistband and then slowly push it down the front of my pants. She is looking in my eyes and her eyes get wider as her fingers softly slide through the wetness down there and my face heats up.

"Oh wow," she says and with the sensation of her fingers directly on me I'm pressing against her again.

"Please," I say, or rather, whimper, because I'm losing control of everything.

"Tell me. Tell me how to touch you," she says in a low voice. She knows how but she's teasing, and it's making it all so intense. I need her skin, I grab her shirt, pull it up and she lets me.

"I want. . . your fingers. . . inside. . .". She kisses me, a kiss so sexy it makes us both moan, and then she is pulling my pants and my underwear off and she sees what this has done to my underwear and my face burns.

"Wow," she murmurs with a grin against my lips as we kiss again and her hand is there again but now, against my naked body, and she slides her fingers through me, and down, and two of her fingers press flat across the place where I want her and they stop.

"Please," I beg again.

"Show me," she whispers mischievously, so I slide my hand down, my fingers over her fingers, and then I move her fingers just a little, and push her into me and she's inside and oh, I suck in my breath as her fingers fill the inside of me, stretching the ache away. She pushes my shirt up, all the way up and kisses my belly as her fingers push inside of me slowly. Her lips and tongue move up my body, warm and soft, and she pushes more deeply and I need this even more badly than the first one and I'm making sounds that embarrass me.

"Ohh," I say, and her thumb presses against me, that hot pulsing place. I feel like I will come again soon, and my hips move against her, and her mouth presses against my breast bone as she kisses me there. She pulls my shirt over my head and kisses my collarbone and then sucks a little at my neck as her fingers press into me and I feel that tension building again, and with one hand I pull her wrist into me harder.

"Jamie," I moan because I need her to curl her fingers, and she knows, but she's moving so slowly I think I will die. "Please. . ."

"Please what?" she whispers, her lips an inch from mine.

"Your fingers. . . please. . ." I say as she thrusts deeper and I gasp because it's happening again soon, I know it. How do I tell her, how do I ask? "Come here. . ." I whisper, hoping it's enough because I can't say more, but she looks in my eyes and she presses into me and then curls her fingers, oh, and then her tongue is on my nipple, giving me chills, and I can feel little spasms starting as her tongue licks and circles against my nipple and in response I feel the wetness flowing over her fingers as she pushes, curls, strokes that spot inside of me and and and

"Ohhhhh," I hear myself moan.

"Shhhh," she says, but so softly, kissing across my chest and taking my other nipple in her mouth and she presses deeply, in, slides out, her palm rubbing against the hot, swollen outside of me again, again, again

"Ohhhh God. . ." I can't control my voice because I'm coming again. "Ohhh. . .". And then my head goes back, my back arching up against her mouth as she sucks harder on my nipple and her fingers stroke and press and the pressure is building and I hear her murmur something but it's not clear because now my body is not mine to control anymore and the contractions come, fast and intense, the same way her fingers are stroking me, and I press my mouth against her neck and cry out, squeeze her, moan again. I'm gasping for breath and my thighs are trembling as her fingers gradually slow down.

"Fuck!" I cry, squeezing her fingers inside of me, where they remain motionless, for a moment, and as I take a breath, she curls them forward again and I spasm again, and gasp. The pulsations inside of me don't stop, and God, it's so good, so long and slow. I breathe deeply and she does too. I take her face in both of my hands and kiss her lips and when I moan a little, she does too. I kiss her again, slowly. Her lips, her tongue, her hot skin against me, my God. She slowly pulls out of me as we kiss again, and my hands slip up her warm naked back as I feel her wet fingers on mine. "Ohh," I say again as a little spasm moves through the inside of me again, and she smiles. She's looking at me and she's warm and tender and my heart aches a little because it should always be this easy but I see Sara's eyes as she turns away from me, and I feel my own eyes smart.

"I love you," I tell her, because I do. She kisses my lips, my eyes, and then her cheek is pressed against my cheek and she's quiet for a moment.

"Thank you," she says. I put my arms around her and pull her close, all tangled together on the floor of her childhood bedroom.