I know you guys will be excited for this one... :)
Part IV: Chapter 21 - Lose Myself Completely On It
The next morning, it takes me a minute to remember the night before, where I am, and why, and whose body is curled against mine. It's Emy, my brain tells me when the fog clears; Emy's arm is around the middle of me, and she's breathing deeply behind me. I realize I am naked below the waist and I remember her touch, holding me close as her fingers moved inside of me so slowly. It had been a long time since someone had touched me without anything scary or angry associated with it. It had been a long time since someone had held me and I didn't feel like a sick fucking freak. Feeling her there behind me is comforting, and before I can stop them, thoughts of Tegan flood back with a sharp ache. Because of everything that had happened between us that shouldn't have, even holding her felt like a crime. If I could find a way to not want her. . . if I could find the part of my brain that made me feel this way. . . I would cut it out myself. But then I guess I would never be whole.
I try to push those thoughts away because Emy's nearness is warm and comforting and soon enough something will shatter this beautiful illusion.
"Mmmmm. . ." Emy murmurs behind me and it strikes me how easy love would have been if Tegan weren't so far inside of me that I would never be free.
"Morning," I say to her quietly, feeling shy about being half naked and about falling asleep with my back to her after she gave me a soft, slow orgasm. I touch her hands where they lay against my stomach.
"Mmmmorning," she says, squeezing me and yawning. "I want to see your face." She kisses the back of my head and then pulls me down onto my back, before I roll to face her. "Good," she grins, and her mouth is right there in front of me and I've always loved her mouth. It's full in a way that is suggestively overripe. I want to kiss her. "How did you sleep?" she asks, and I realize that I had slept better than I had in weeks. I blush a little, remembering how much a few orgasms can help with that.
"Um, really well, actually. Have a headache though. . ." I answer, rubbing the stickiness out of my eyes.
"From crying last night I guess," she points out and I nod. "And the six liters of whiskey." She raises her eyebrows and grins at me sadly. Can I kiss her now? Is it too soon?
"Thank you for. . ." I stop and glance away shyly, because it's hard to know what to say. She smiles and then I don't have to wonder if I can kiss her or not because after a warm hesitation, she looks from my eyes to my lips and moves closer and her lips touch mine. The kiss is slow and soft and it has been a long time since I felt her lips, and the old is new again for a moment. New again but so familiar.
The kiss lasts for a few seconds and she moves her face away and I guess it didn't occur to me that she would feel uncertain about it but I can see from her face that she's uncertain. But nonetheless, she reaches up a hand and touches my hair, my face, just for a second.
"No need to thank me," she says with a little grin. "It's not like I didn't enjoy it." It's stupid that she's able to make me feel shy when we have four years of intimate history together.
"You didn't. . . get much out of it," I say, and she shakes her head.
"I would like to argue that point," she says and I smile back at her, cautiously laying a hand on her waist. "Don't you always feel good when you make someone else feel good?"
"Of course," I say, and I want to remember the last time I made Emy feel good, but instead I see Tegan, her head back, eyes closed at the moment where she forgets herself. "Giving can be better. . ." She nods.
"That's why you are a wonderful lover," she says to me, surprising me, because I don't feel like a wonderful anything. "And I don't know if this is a good time but. . . there are. . . I'm curious about some things but. . . I'm not sure if it's okay to ask." She looks sheepish, a little pink.
"It's fine," I say after a moment, wondering if it really will be. "Go ahead and ask."
"Well. . ." she starts. "I guess. . . I just wonder, um. . . how it's. . . different. Um, with Tegan." My heart leaps up into my throat; she's embarrassed to ask, so she must really want to know. And my mind spins a little around how to answer that, the most complicated question I could even imagine. Part of me feels like I owe her this explanation.
"Well, um. . ." I start, feeling half of the blood in my body rush to my face while the other half congregates down below. "There are things she like. . . she doesn't know. . . um, about me. In, uh, that way. Things you know. . ." I feel like I don't have to explain what those things are; she gives me a ghost of a smile, nods. "Which is so weird to like. . . to know someone all of your life and. . . and to not know them, in that way. . ."
"Um. . . like what?" she asks, and my guts feel it.
"Like. . . last night, I mean. . ." She nods again. "So there are things we're. . . we were. . . still figuring out. . ." And my heart clenches because never again.
"Well, you're like. . . new lovers," she says, which then makes my heart lurch a little.
"Yeah and well. . . there are things I couldn't let her do because she. . . she's Tegan." The heat in my face is intense. I'm talking with my ex-lover about having sex with my sister. My sister, who has been like a sister to Emy, too, for years. But she doesn't look shocked; her cheeks are pink, and her eyes linger on mine.
"What kind of things don't you let her do?" she wonders, and this conversation is warming us both up.
"I can't. . . it isn't easy for me, mentally to like. . . to let her, um. . . top me." Emy's smile makes me shy and I look away. "I don't know why but I just can't."
"Do you top her, then?" she asks. It's so surreal, it's like cupcakes.
"I, uh. . . usually. . . yes, but. . ." I stop. How can I explain? "It's. . . was. . . so different because like, we. . . we were almost always scared." I feel Tegan's arms around me as she holds me while I cry in the little bus, terrified after speaking with our mother. Emy is a compassionate person and her face reflects this now. "But not always. There were moments where it was. . . so. . ." I can't choose an adjective so I stop. "I just didn't know it was possible to feel like that." It comes out and I'm stupid because there's a flicker in her face and why do I not realize those words could hurt her until after I've already said them? "No, I don't mean-"
"Okay, hey," she says, "it's okay. It's an unfair comparison." I shiver, recalling a conversation with Tegan in the bus when I asked her about Jamie, and this warm safe cocoon I'm in makes me understand that more, Tegan and Jamie, and I feel sorry that the damage is already done.
"Actually you um. . . you and Tegan are. . . similar. Um, in some ways." I think I mumble this. She raises her eyebrows, curious.
"How?"
"You're both so. . . so gentle," I tell her, my throat tightening like I was afraid of. I close my eyes.
"Yeah, I would have thought that. I mean, obviously, dating a twin, I thought about it," she says with a soft laugh, and I grin, relieved at the levity. "And yeah I always thought she'd be. . . sweet." I nod.
"Yeah," I whisper, and I feel my eyes fill up and she sees it and touches my face, sad for me. Seriously, I can't cry on my ex-girlfriend about this, it's just fucked up. I close my eyes and count, the way I do when I don't want to cry, visualizing the numbers as three dimensional shapes floating in space. She sees me doing it.
"You don't have to do that," she says.
"Do what?"
"Swallow your feelings. You don't have to." I meet her eyes. Yeah, my heart aches but fuck, she's here in bed with me and she's soft and warm and good and I will just push this shit down and let myself feel good for a minute if I can.
"You know what else though?" I ask with a sniff, getting myself together. "She is so, so good with her tongue." I'm embarrassed by my own joke but she laughs, gives me a broad smile, and with no thoughts at all, my mouth is on hers, her full lower lip between mine.