Chapter Text
It starts even before her freshman year at Piltover University.
Caitlyn was adamant that her mother did not need to leverage the fact that one of the libraries - the largest of course – had the Kiramman name on it to convince admin that she was exempt from the need to live on campus for her first year. She was already attending her mother’s - and grandmother’s and great-grandmother’s – Alma Mater and majoring in Political Science with a Pre-Law focus as was requested of her. So she had firmly put her foot down on this one slight matter, her living arrangements. The least her mother could do was allow her to experience as normal a collegiate experience as possible, which included living in the dorms for her first year. The most formative part of her being able to branch out and explore relied on her being packed in with other helpless students. It fostered community!
(Her best selling point had been that she would be allowed to be in the athletics dorms, otherwise known as Valoran Hall, as a member of the rifling team. Which housed in-dorm tutors, the best dining cafe out of the five residence options, and allowed Caitlyn her own private room. Only forcing her to share a common space, kitchenette, and bathroom with one stranger instead of three or gods forbid an entire floor.)
No matter how she’d done it, Cassandra Kiramman had caved at her daughter's insistence – and perhaps mildly dramatic threats.
As she moved in a week earlier than the official freshman move-in date for the other dorms. Another perk of being in Valoran, she felt remarkably accomplished. She hadn’t needed to lift anything of course. Her mother had organized a reputable set of movers to pack and transport all she needed and place it exactly according to her instructions, but it was still refreshing to watch as her boxes and things settled into what was to be her home for the next year. It was remarkably exciting. A chance to come into her own and figure out who she wanted to be without the pressure of knowing she’d have to answer to her mother for every little decision.
Her mind ran rampant with plenty of ideas, some as simple as binge-watching some movies she never seemed to catch the entirety of, to more extremes so to speak like- well- exploring herself in truth. To be clear, it wasn’t that her parents didn’t know she was gay. It was a fact she had realized incredibly early on when girls at her K-12 academy had fawned over how much they wished Jayce would walk them to class or wait for them after school or decidedly worse things they felt the need to share with her that they wanted to do with Jayce.
(She rebuffed this misconception more times than she was comfortable with, repeating the fact she was not an obstacle to these girls' fantasies since Jayce was practically a brother to her. Annoying her and tattling to her parents and all. The full sibling package, as far as she was concerned.)
But the nonsense had opened her eyes that she didn’t want any of that stuff romantically with any guy no matter how handsome or cool she was told they were. The whole gender just fell flat in her eyes. She had marched home one day after one particularly rankling annoyance, all 10-year-old brazen resolve, and declared quite staunchly at dinner that she would never take any male suitors. The outburst stunned her mother into a rare speechless state as her father patient and flexible as ever had only chuckled softly as he continued eating. Swallowing before he responded,
“Of course, dear, as you wish.”
Her mother, prompted by his sideways glance – and perhaps a nudge under the table that a young Caitlyn had no need to know about – cleared her throat before nodding along.
“As your father said. Any respectable match of your choosing, the world is yours, Caitlyn.”
Which was all fine and good (in truth an older Caitlyn was immensely grateful her parents had merely rolled with her bizarre coming out) but in her private school, Caitlyn had buried herself in her studies and her training. Falling in love with her regiment instead of… well, trying to make genuine connections with her peers outside of Jayce who was 3 years ahead. Meaning he was always destined to leave her behind and by the time she realized her mistake in not forging bonds with anyone in her own year? Everyone had become quite cliqued up and at her core, Caitlyn knew she hesitated to willingly approach one person, let alone a fully formed group. So she had settled into the background of her high school years.
This time, she was committed to making sure it was different. Even though yes Jayce was currently in PU’s illustrious engineering program and already accepted to the grad program. Therefore ensuring he’d continue being around, she promised herself she’d at least make the effort to expand her social circle before tucking herself back under his proverbial wing and burying herself under the ever-growing pile of academia.
Which meant making friends, going out, having fun, and hopefully - gods if she were fortunate - some sex, if not a full-blown romance. Simply put she refused to come out the other side of this a virgin.
As the movers dropped off the last of her boxes and headed for the door, they were nearly struck as a flash of pink and red came barreling through. The whirlwind drew up just short of colliding with the first man and pivoted sharply around the group of three. Finding some open space remarkably without crashing into anything or anyone despite the two duffles swinging at both their sides, with a backpack practically overflowing, while a large case of luggage rolled in behind them.
It would honestly be a bit impressive, the sudden show of dexterity, if it weren’t so jarring. Prompting the three men to simply look in between the bluenette and pinkette before shrugging and continuing on out the door.
As the door clicked shut, Caitlyn could only gape at the figure before her. Broad shoulders teasing an impressive musculature tucked away in a red jacket under all the baggage with a casual white tee shirt falling over a set of form-fitting blue jeans that clung to thighs that looked capable of crushing watermelons and if the twirl had shown a glimpse of anything the rearview was most definitely as pleasing as the front.
A throat cleared and her eyes snap up from where they’d been roaming - fuck please don’t be… - and then those lips are separating and Caitlyn is fucking hopeless because instead of being respectful after already being caught out, her dumb gay traitorous eyes lower to catch on a scar on the top lip that most definitely looks more inviting then it should.
“Hey,” Fucking shoot her now. One word. And yet Caitlyn wants nothing more than to hear this person talk forever.
“I think I’m your roommate, Vi Wilson. 516 right? Unless this college reading bullshit is already kicking my ass.” And then her lips are turning up with a smirk. Playful and mildly teasing, she releases her luggage and lets both of her duffels thump to the floor.
Yep. Caitlyn’s already oogled her roommate. Twice. (Maybe three times if the elaborate twirl and appreciative glance at her ass counts as a separate occurrence.)
And now she’s just standing here malfunctioning moderately. Before the first word she blurts out - elegant and smooth as any Kiramman should be, “Cupcakes!”
Which only draws a slow pitching up of Vi’s eyebrows as she hesitantly nods, taking the slightest step back. Caitlyn’s face burns with embarrassment and before she even bothers clarifying, she rushes to the kitchen for the box her father had set in her passenger seat before she’d set off on the two-hour drive to Piltover University. She scoops it from the counter before returning, not wanting to allow Vi to slip away before proving she wasn’t crazy.
(Just occasionally, embarrassingly, awkward - especially when it came to women, and well, Vi looked like a walking bad boy advertisement face tattoo, leather jacket, and scruffy hair that fell in a disarmingly casual manner.)
She made her way back with a flourish, trying and utterly failing to force the blush to vacate from her cheeks, as she pulled the ribbon holding the neat packaging together. Revealing two cupcakes, one a red velvet. (Not chocolate, they are completely different flavor profiles) With a strawberry-vanilla cream cheese frosting and the other a neutral choice of a vanilla cupcake topped with a matching plain buttercream.
Vi’s eyes widened slightly but the tension in her shoulders eased and her brows softened as Caitlyn held out the offering. Her swirling grey eyes darted from the baked goods to Caitlyn's face, searching, before dropping back to the awaiting gesture.
“Ah- umm well, thanks, Cupcake.” Before Vi snatched up the red velvet.
She only has a moment to mourn her favorite snack, unprepared for the possibility Vi would take her cupcake, as it raises to that scarred lip and then Vi’s tongue darts sweeping through the icing - and fuck does this count as oogling her roommate for the fourth time? - as she is struck frozen where she stands.
It’s just a tongue. Gods it should just be a tongue - consuming a sugary treat but this close she can see the wetness of it. Watch the way it curls and flicks on the edge of the wrapper to gather as much of the frosting as possible. Practically polishing the cupcake and Caitlyn has never been so desperate to be a baked good in her life but here she stands. Wishing and hoping.
It would seem that, yes, college would provide her ample opportunity to explore herself and her likes and dislikes.
Such as the fact that Caitlyn Kiramman is most definitely into her roommate Vi Wilson.