watch me, pay attention

by arcanarum

Summary:

"Caitlyn, as the average fan (she can already picture Jayce rolling his eyes), knows that it's been a year and a half since Vi was catapulted to fame. She's adored by the public, praised for her acting prowess and sweeping up awards ever since her break out role. She also knows that she is Vi's polar opposite. Caitlyn Kiramman will probably always be known as a legacy kid, a party girl and a brat. Vi probably doesn't need all the drama that Caitlyn usually finds herself in. And yet – Vi's face is so close, and her eyes quickly dart over Caitlyn's neck and then lower."

 

Model Caitlyn bumps into her celebrity crush, Vi, on the red carpet at the Academy Gala. They're a little obsessed with each other.

Notes:

The Caitvi brainworms have got me and I wouldn't have it any other way.

Title is from the lyrics from FLO's "On & On". Hope you enjoy <3

Chapter 1: on and on

When Caitlyn was invited to the Academy's annual gala last year, she did not attend the after-party, warned by her mother that she did not want to see Caitlyn's name anywhere in the headlines unless it was about who she was wearing. So Caitlyn had been a good girl: she wore the 1997 Vivienne Westwood purple silk ensemble that Cassandra had picked out for her, walked the carpet, mingled without picking up a single flute of champagne, and then called their driver to pick her up as soon as the dinner ended. There were no headlines – Caitlyn wasn't even featured in any of the notorious secret bathroom selfies – and Cassandra was satisfied. She was even happier when Caitlyn received her second invitation; evidently she had made a good impression on the Medardas, who were so picky about their guests. 

A lot is different this year. Caitlyn gets more say in who she wears and decides, to no one's surprise, to go with Viktor Allertova. She's been his lead model for the last two seasons now, ever since Jayce vouched for her when Viktor's previous lead, Sky Young, suddenly broke her contract with London's House of Zaun. There had been all kinds of intrigue back then around Miss Young's departure: some sources said that Viktor was such a tyrant she couldn't bear to work with him anymore; most tabloids had claimed that she was in love with him and couldn't handle the heartbreak when it turned out that Viktor was actually being courted by none other than Jayce Talis, the golden boy supermodel who soon earned the nickname of Viktor's muse. Caitlyn, admittedly, had worried that Viktor would be impossible to work with, but Jayce reminded her not to believe everything she read online. “Or are all those things they write about you true?” She flicked him on the forehead for that one. 

As it turned out, Viktor was a genius. With his unique approach to reimagining classic Gothic couture, his interest in his models’ opinions on his work, and his focus on crafting ethereal, unforgettable shows, he quickly earned Caitlyn's trust and respect. Together, their stardom grew exponentially. Viktor showed London, Milan, New York and Paris that Caitlyn was more than supermodel Cassandra Kiramman's daughter. Sure, Caitlyn might be a nepo-baby, but she's got a fucking good walk. She can catch anyone's attention and hold it with a sway of her hips, a flip of her long black hair, and Viktor's designs. It's time for her to return the favour.

Viktor walks the red carpet with her, occasionally adjusting her dress superficially for the perfect photograph. As usual, the paparazzi are shouting at her, begging for her attention and eye contact, and Caitlyn tries to give as many cameras as she can her signature ice-cold stare. Sometimes she turns to speak to Viktor, knowing that they want photos of her side profile and the elaborate ruby hair piece holding up her bun. 

The theme this year is Golden Threads: Opulence and the New Gilded Age. Viktor had rolled his eyes when he read the brief – “Mel is so predictable,” he’d said – but he immediately got to work and kept Jayce and Caitlyn up for weeks as he created design after design. 

“Mark my words, all you'll see all night will be metallic ballroom gowns and Dior homages. Which is, eh, fine, but we are going to make sure they remember us.”

And Viktor had been right of course. Most of the guests here are paying tribute to the golden age of Hollywood, as if they stepped right out of the premiere of All About Eve or Gentlemen Prefer Blondes. Every model, musician, and actor Caitlyn can see looks glamorous, but she knows that these gowns and the same old plain suits will grow boring quickly. Critics, journalists, even the average fan of couture, want to be surprised. Caitlyn's confident she's got that covered.

The first time she saw it, Caitlyn thought she could stare at the cape Viktor had designed for hours. Sometimes, she still can't believe she gets to wear such beautiful garments. Layers of long black silk cover her frame, the fabric embroidered with delicate spirals of golden thread, as if literal sunbeams are falling upon her back. She carries a matching parasol over her and places her hand carefully around the gold, anatomical-heart shaped handle so the design will be visible in the photos. With her bold black eye shadow, contoured cheekbones, dark red lipstick and covered skin, she knows she looks vampiric and intimidating. They’re about a quarter of the way down the carpet and she's waiting for Viktor to allow her to reveal the dress underneath. He wears a wine red suit with glistening gold buttons and a matching cane, ordered specially by Jayce. Viktor always says he prefers simpler looks when he walks with his models, allowing them to hold everyone's complete attention, but Caitlyn knows he has such an alluring aura that it's hard not to look at him. He decided to forego a dress shirt, wearing only a hand-tailored waistcoat underneath his open suit jacket, and Caitlyn’s pretty sure she saw Jayce frothing at the mouth before they left the hotel. 

Viktor leans in to whisper in Caitlyn's ear. “How much are we betting that by tomorrow the vultures will forget that we're gay and say that we're secretly dating?” Viktor only ever calls the paparazzi vultures or ruder words that Caitlyn's mother would blanche at. It's one of the many reasons why she likes him so much. 

“God, I don't want that. Yours and Jayce's fans will eat me alive.” 

Viktor chuckles. “Okay. Now is the time.” 

There was a brief moment when the cameras trained on her turned to the next celebrity walking the line, but the moment Caitlyn closes her parasol, shrugs off her cape and hands it to the assistant following her, camera shutters roar and shouts erupt all around her. 

The choker Caitlyn wears is loaned by Cartier, heavy but cool as the gems cling to her skin. It's mostly encrusted with diamonds, but there are scattered rubies along the right side of the choker, as if she was bitten on her neck and the blood is still pooling down. Viktor has dusted her skin with gold and silver shimmer, making her sparkle in the light. (Caitlyn had joked, “This is the skin of a killer, Bella,” and Viktor had nearly pelted her with a cushion while Jayce burst out laughing.) It's Viktor's gown that will be the talk of the night though: carmine red lace bleeds into black, cinched together by gold clasps and ribbons, completely backless but still hanging loosely on Caitlyn's figure. With the way other celebrities are stopping to marvel at her, Caitlyn thinks that Viktor has won the unspoken competition for design of the night. 

“Keep walking,” Viktor says with a pleased smile.

The anticipation of the reveal over, Caitlyn feels a little more relaxed, more confident as she walks in her heels. But she must still be a little distracted by all the shouting and camera flashes, because she feels her shoulder bump into somebody. 

“Oh, I'm sorry,” comes an American accent. And Caitlyn forgets to chastise herself for the rookie mistake of not looking where she was going, because for the first time in years, Caitlyn feels a little starstruck. 

Stupidly, she thought that she would be immune to this kind of feeling after growing up with her mother inviting the stars of the fashion world over for dinner, after getting to meet all of the icons she ever dreamed of being as a young girl. But here she is, frozen in front of Vi Brooke. 

Her hair is messy and bright pink, dyed for her upcoming role as a superhero. She's not even the lead of the film, but her character is already the most popular online, and Caitlyn has admittedly joined all of the fangirls anonymously thirsting over her on the internet. The suit Vi wears is black with a gold chain pattern across the jacket – plain and forgettable, but it doesn't matter because she is the one wearing it. Caitlyn's mouth feels so dry. There's a faint gold shimmer on the inner corner of Vi's powder blue eyes. And then she gives Caitlyn a small smile. She may pass out.

“No, that was my fault, I'm sorry.” She tries to keep her voice steady and purposefully low – she's aware that she's so close to devolving into her high-school self, whose voice jumped an octave whenever a pretty girl looked her way. She is not that hopeless anymore, thank god. 

There's going to be photos of them, she realises. If she can keep Vi Brooke here, then the cameras will have enough time to capture them together. She wants to see those photos. 

She makes a quick calculation and thinks some strategic honesty is the way to go. “You must get this all the time but I am a huge fan of your work. I rewatch you in Little Women any time I need to feel something.” 

Okay, maybe that was a little too honest. Especially for a chance encounter on the red carpet. But then Vi beams and Caitlyn nearly goes weak at the knees. It's almost the same smile as Caitlyn's favourite from the film, when Vi's Jo kisses Beth’s forehead with so much relief and love and smiles at her like she’s hung the stars. Caitlyn can't believe people are allowed to look like this in real life. So beautiful and sincere.  

“That's so sweet, thank you.” 

Someone shouts at them, calling Caitlyn's name, and Vi turns towards the cameras with a suddenly cold look. Then she's leaning closer to Caitlyn, angling her head away from the paparazzi and saying, “God, are these events always this …” She trails off, but Caitlyn gives a mellowed laugh.

“Yes. You get used to it.” 

“Mmm, I'll have to take your word for it.” 

Caitlyn, as the average fan (she can already picture Jayce rolling his eyes), knows that it's been a year and a half since Vi was catapulted to fame. She has the rags to riches story, plucked straight from a drama group for at-risk youth somewhere in California and putting her hard-earned money back into the community that raised her. She's adored by the public, praised for her acting prowess and sweeping up awards ever since her break out role as Jo March.

She also knows that she is Vi's polar opposite. Caitlyn Kiramman will probably always be known as a legacy kid, a party girl and a brat. Her mother has paid good money to keep Caitlyn out of the papers, but blurry photos of her, drunk with smudged lipstick, still find their way into the tabloids. The rumour mill generates all kinds of stories about her: that she's sleeping with Jayce, nevermind the fact that she's only ever been spotted making out with women; that Cassandra threatened to disown her after she was photographed smoking weed on the LA leg of her last show tour; that famed fashion producers find her “difficult to tame”, meaning a nightmare to work with. Then there's all the paparazzi photos of her giving the middle finger, which do the rounds online for a couple of weeks – sometimes her fans will even pick those photos for their profile pictures. A fog of intrigue, lust and hatred seems to revolve around her at all times these days, especially as she continues to be booked for bigger and bigger shows. Vi Brooke probably doesn't need all the drama that Caitlyn usually finds herself in. 

And yet – Vi's face is so close, and her eyes quickly dart over Caitlyn's neck and then lower. 

“That's a pretty dress on you.” Vi’s face turns bright red with one tame compliment, and Caitlyn finds her too pretty to correct and say that it's a beautiful dress, period. 

A pretty dress on you, she thinks, too warm to speak. 

“Maybe we'll see each other inside,” Vi says, sounding a little hopeful, or maybe that's wishful thinking. With that she smiles and heads up the stairs towards the Academy's entrance. Caitlyn watches her move and startles when she feels Viktor's hand on her forearm, prompting her to carry on down the carpet. 

“Who was that?” he asks. She nearly chews him out for it; he's watched Little Women with her and Jayce before. He must have been thinking about work or else fallen asleep.

“She’ll be the one taking all this off me tonight.”

“God,” Viktor sighs. “No, she's not. Because we need to return that necklace in perfect condition, that dress is some of my best work and…”

She's set Viktor off on a rant, but it doesn't even matter. She's going to have Vi Brooke in her arms by the end of the night. 

Inside, it becomes even clearer that Caitlyn and Vi don't run in similar circles. They're seemingly always at opposite ends of whichever room they're in. And yet their eyes keep finding each other across the crowd. As she speaks to Mel she feels Vi’s gaze on her, undoubtedly curious. While Vi talks with a group of older actors, Caitlyn watches and sips on champagne, smiling when Vi spots her and looks away with a smile and a blush. 

Caitlyn wants to see her blush like that splayed out on her bedroom pillows. 

Halfway through dinner, Caitlyn makes the mistake of looking for Vi in the grand hall they're all seated in, and accidentally finds Maddie instead. She's apparently been waiting to catch Caitlyn's eye, if the frantic look in her eye and bright smile is any indication. Watching her turn back to her table partners, Caitlyn can appreciate why Maddie Nolen has started to attract media attention and even an invitation to tonight's event. With her blunt, bright orange bob, large eyes and high cheekbones, she's beautiful in that girl-next-door kind of way, which has landed her quite a few magazine shoots since she started walking for Viktor. It's also possibly why Caitlyn had decided to sleep with her three weeks ago in Paris. She's already regretting it though. Every time she catches Maddie looking at her, at work, press events or parties, she can hear Jayce's annoying voice: don't shit where you eat, Cait.

Which is fucking rich coming from him, Mr Head Over Heels For My Boss, but she supposes she should listen to Jayce more. He's occasionally right. 

There's the token musical performance, a string of love songs by this year's favourite pop starlet. She's got a sweet, energetic voice, and guests take her singing as an opportunity to get up and dance or head to the bar at the far end of the hall. Caitlyn's in the latter group, while Viktor takes this as his cue to leave. 

“Missing your boyfriend already?” 

“Ha,” he says in his monotone, unimpressed way. “Now, when you're finished, you come straight to the hotel.” There, the necklace will be locked away again in its safe and this dress will be wrapped and await Viktor's highest bidder. 

“I'm surprised you're even letting the necklace out of your sight.” 

“Well, I'm tired.” 

“Right,” she says with a knowing smile.

“My leg hurts. I don't owe you an explanation.” Viktor turns on his heel and walks – rather quickly – towards the exit. Jayce must have texted him. 

Caitlyn decides to have one more glass of champagne and see if she can spot Vi in the crowd. Surely it shouldn't be this hard to find someone with bright pink hair, but she still hasn't found her by the time she drains the last drop of her champagne flute. 

She sighs. It's a shame, but she supposes she'll survive without getting Vi Brooke into bed. For a moment, she seriously considers going to the after-party after dropping off her outfit at Viktor's hotel. 

But the universe has decided to save her from herself, apparently, because she hears a familiar voice on her left. 

“There you are.” 

Caitlyn turns to see Vi next to her, leaning against the bar with an innocent looking smile. She's not wearing the suit jacket anymore, and the top three buttons of her white shirt are popped open. God.

“You don't dance?” Vi asks.

“For everyone's safety, it's better that I don't.” 

Vi lets out a small laugh, and if Caitlyn wouldn't admit that she was whipped before, she can't deny it now. 

“I'm Caitlyn, by the way.” 

“I'm Vi,” she says, apparently having already forgotten that Caitlyn's her fan.

“Yes, I know.” 

“Oh, right, yeah.” 

She closes her eyes with a scrunch and a cute line appears on her forehead. For someone who plays such confident characters and looks intimidating, with her broad shoulders and athletic physique, Vi seems surprisingly nervous. She shifts her weight from one leg to another and turns back to Caitlyn, her cheeks a little pink.

Caitlyn asks her if she's enjoying the gala. Vi nods, but her smile is a little sheepish. “It's nice, but a little … overwhelming, I guess. All the people. I'm still not used to all this, really.” 

“I can understand that. I was so nervous when I got invited last year. There are lots of big names here.” 

“The problem is, I'm so not a part of this world – I don't even know who I'm meant to be nervous around, so I've just decided to be nervous around everybody. Dinner was the most confusing part, I think. I had no idea there were so many different kinds of forks.” 

Caitlyn smiles and hopes it looks sincere. Many of the celebrities Caitlyn crosses paths with are either so self-absorbed or so guarded that they're incapable of having a normal, honest conversation. Vi’s rambling is a breath of fresh air. 

“I could take you to a less confusing place, if you like. I know all the prettiest spots in the Academy. There's a gallery upstairs.” 

Vi's eyes widen a little, but then Caitlyn can see the relief in her body as her shoulders relax and she stands a little straighter. She's shorter than Caitlyn, especially because of the latter's heels, but Vi’s presence alone fills the space around them. Caitlyn couldn't look away if she tried. 

“Lead the way.” 

Feeling bold, Caitlyn takes her words literally. She takes Vi's hand in her own, feels her heart skip a beat, and leaves the grand hall with a goofy smile on her face. 

The gallery has always been Caitlyn's favourite part of the Academy. It’s one of the greatest records of fashion history and the many muses of bygone eras; every painting on its walls is dedicated to a different beautiful woman. Whether she's dressed in finery or rags, from the ancient world or the modern day, each woman carries herself with confidence, staring down at the artist and the viewer and so aware of her power. 

They make small talk as they wander through the halls. Vi is turning twenty-two in July; Caitlyn is twenty-three and a September baby. This is Vi's first time in London; Caitlyn grew up here and graduated from the London College of Fashion with a Psychology of Fashion BSc at twenty. Vi never went to drama school. She's got three siblings, Claggor, Mylo, and Powder; Caitlyn is an only child, but she basically has an older brother. Vi used to teach boxing on the weekends and still tries to train as much as she can. Her favourite dessert is anything with blueberries. She likes bands like The Aces and Paramour, but also old American singers like Etta James and Billie Holiday. Caitlyn listens to Vi talk, has her listen in return, and thinks she's the prettiest girl she's ever spoken to. 

Vi stops when they reach a portrait Caitlyn's seen many times before. It seems like a snapshot, but Caitlyn knows that this photograph has been expertly crafted. A woman, probably in her late forties to early fifties, sits on a chair just outside a boxing ring. Her dark, curly hair is cut short and swept back with sweat. Caitlyn can make out the shine on her brown skin, the exertion her body has recently been through, but there's something so effortless in the way this woman carries herself. Her features are powerful, a hooked nose and a firm almost-smile on her lips. She's wrapping her hands in white cloth, like she's preparing for another fight, but Caitlyn can see the relaxed look in her eyes – this woman knows she will win. Caitlyn reads the name on the plaque: Anahita Grayson, 1994. 

“I like this one,” Vi says quietly. Like she's pleased that there's someone here that she can see herself in. “She's beautiful.” 

Caitlyn looks at Vi's wide eyes, her rounded cheeks, the faint freckles on her nose. “Yeah, she is.” 

Vi turns back to Caitlyn and she doesn't try to look away. They stare at each other for a moment and Vi smiles sweetly, a little bashful at the attention. 

“I know you've done cover shoots before. Did you like it?” Caitlyn says, thinking back to the edition of Vogue magazine with Vi's face on the cover that’s somewhere on her bookcase back home. She'd been interested in reading the interview more than anything, but the pictures had been breathtaking too. They'd taken Vi to a field and put her in a loose, lilac Victorian blouse. Vi's hair had been brown then. Among the flowers and the soft grass, Vi looked like something out of a dream. She still does. 

“It was fun,” Vi says with a nod, her eyes darting away as she recalls something. “Kinda awkward at first, but they told me exactly how to pose and it was easy to follow their instructions.”

Caitlyn smiles to herself, tries to keep her mind on course. 

“I bet no one has to tell you how to sit, right?” Vi asks. “You look like you know how to … frame yourself? Are those the right words?”

Caitlyn laughs. “Nope, photographers always have notes. But after doing this for a while, it gets easier to anticipate what they're gonna say.” 

“Giving you notes,” Vi says to herself, shaking her head. “That's kind of ridiculous.”

“What do you mean?” 

“You're so beautiful. Any photo of you would be perfect.” 

Caitlyn has to look away from her, feeling so much warmth on her cheeks and in her stomach that she almost wants to hide. She knows how to control this feeling. 

“Wanna bet?” she says, pulling her phone out of her pocket – bless Viktor for the pockets – and scrolling back through her messages with Jayce. She quickly finds the photo she's looking for: it's taken from right above her forehead so Caitlyn looks bug-eyed and feral as she rants at Jayce about something, her mouth pulled wide open at the strangest angle. 

She shows Vi, and she immediately bursts out laughing. It's a loud, wonderful sound, and Caitlyn joins her, the sound of it echoing through the gallery. Vi clutches at her stomach with one hand and her face scrunches up again so cutely. Caitlyn feels a little dizzy for a moment. 

“God, that's so good. Should be the first thing in your portfolio.” 

“Fuck off,” Caitlyn says jokingly. 

Vi's still giggling. “Even when you guys swear it sounds so refined. Fuck off,” she says in a mock English accent. “I like it.” 

Caitlyn’s phone lights up and buzzes in her hand. It's a message from Viktor, telling her it's safe to drop by his hotel room now – gross, Jayce – and asking what time she'll be there. 

“Everything okay?” 

“Oh, yeah. It's just Viktor asking for his dress back. I'll make a move in a moment.” 

“Oh.” Vi’s voice goes a little quiet. “Will you be at the after-party later?”

“No, I think I'll head home after I drop this gown off.” 

“Oh,” she repeats, nodding to herself. She puts her hands in her pockets and rocks slightly on the balls of her feet. 

Caitlyn likes that Vi's so open, that she wears her feelings on her face. This one's easy to name: disappointment. Vi doesn't want this to end yet. Neither does she. 

“You like to party, Vi?”

She shrugs. “It's not usually my scene.” 

Caitlyn steps a little closer to her, probably getting too close to her personal space and not caring at all. “You should come back to mine then.” 

It's adorable how quickly Vi perks up. Caitlyn tells Vi to put her number in her phone, and she sends her a text message with her address.

“Be there in … can you give me an hour?”

“Sure,” Vi says. In that moment, Vi almost looks like she'd give Caitlyn anything she'd ask for. 

Good. 

Caitlyn calls her taxi and gets to Viktor's hotel in record time. She walks into his suite and starts undoing all the ribbons and zips so quickly that he balks and nearly yells at her to be careful. Jayce laughs when she nearly tips over as she hurries to get her jeans on. 

She gets home with thirty minutes to spare. Her flat is a bit of a mess at the moment – there's dishes in the sink and magazines strewn on the floor where she was reading earlier – but she'll deal with that later. She showers quickly, not allowing herself to enjoy the hot spray as she usually does after these events, and half-dries her hair after rubbing cocoa butter into her skin. She slips on her favourite robe, a soft cupro kimono with white and gold cranes flying across the black fabric, ties it hastily and runs back to the living room. She picks up her magazines and piles them on the far coffee table next to her suffering succulents. She sets the lights low and lights a pomegranate candle for good measure. 

Her doorbell rings. Caitlyn buzzes Vi in and tries not to pace as she rides the lift up. It feels like time stretches out, but eventually there's a knock on her door. 

Vi's changed out of her outfit. She's wearing light-washed ripped jeans and what looks like a men's white linen dress shirt. It's thin enough for Caitlyn to make out her white sports bra underneath. Her stomach flips in excitement as she invites Vi in. 

“Can I get you something to drink? Tea?”

“Ugh,” Vi says, then purses her lips like she didn't mean to let that out. 

“Oh, don’t tell me –”

“I'm sorry.”

“– you don't like tea? What's wrong with you?” Caitlyn puts a hand on her chest like she's clutching her pearls. It's fun playing up the outrage, especially when Vi laughs. She gestures towards her sofa and Vi takes a seat, leaning back into the cushions comfortably. 

“It's just nasty. I'm sorry for offending you.” 

Caitlyn sits down next to her on the sofa. She miscalculates and sits so close that their knees touch. But Vi doesn't move away, so neither does she. “I can't believe you're insulting British culture like this.” 

“It's not like I swore at your king or queen or whatever.”

“You can actually swear at them all you like. Believe it or not, I think the monarchy can burn.” 

Vi grins from ear to ear. “Here I was, thinking you were such a princess.” 

“People usually get the wrong impression of me.” 

“Mm, I can imagine that,” Vi says, putting a hand over her chin and tapping at her lip with a finger as she looks at Caitlyn and thinks. It's so funny how a change in clothes and scenery seems to change Vi so much. She seems totally in her element, confident and at ease as she reclines a little more. It's captivating. Vi doesn't seem to miss the way Caitlyn stares at her lips. There's a little scar over her upper lip. Caitlyn wants to kiss it.

“Yeah, actually that makes sense,” Vi continues. “When I first saw you, you looked a little terrifying – in a good way. You looked like a vampire. It was hot. But then you spoke and you were all sweet. Though I guess you can be scary and sweet at the same time.” 

Want swells slowly in her stomach, threatening to pour over. In reality, Caitlyn just inches a little closer to Vi.

“Surely I'm not that scary.” She keeps her eyes on Vi's face as she places a hand on her thigh, feeling her warm skin beneath the ripped denim. 

Vi smiles – bites her lip lightly for a split second. “Maybe a bit – in a good way.” 

It feels like there's electricity pulsing through Caitlyn's body. On the one hand, she wants to just give in and kiss Vi, find out how those lips will feel against her own, but another part of her wants to see how far she can push Vi. How much Vi will let her take. 

“Is that your type then? Girls who intimidate you a little?”

Vi nods slowly. “Probably. Girls who look mean but are sweet.” 

Caitlyn lets out a small, low laugh, a little taunting. “I suppose that fits me.” 

“What's your type, Caitlyn?” She's still not touching Caitlyn yet, but she senses that Vi's getting worked up. Her fingers keep fiddling with a loose string on her top. 

“Hmm,” she says, pretending to think about it. “I like girls who look a bit rough.”

“Ah. I think that fits me. Though, I am starting to feel a little overdressed right now.” 

Caitlyn smiles and decides to push Vi one step further, untying her robe and shrugging it off. Cool air hits her stomach, her breasts, and the robe pools behind her on the sofa. She keeps her eyes on Vi's the entire time, and thinks about how pretty they look when they go wide as Vi takes in the fact that Caitlyn’s naked.

She tucks a loose strand of hair behind her ear. Vi looks like she's trying very hard to keep her eyes focused on Caitlyn's face, which is sweet but not necessary. There's something about the moment just before you’re going to fuck somebody that drives Caitlyn crazy. She can't help but smile as she leans towards Vi and runs her fingers down the collar of her shirt. 

“Want me to help you with that?” 

Vi's last semblance of restraint breaks. She surges forward and roughly presses her lips to Caitlyn's, and every cell in Caitlyn's body sings, shaking like they're saying, “Finally.” God, it's perfect, the heat of Vi's mouth, the way she moans into the kiss like Caitlyn's still teasing her, and she just opens up to her, licking hotly into Caitlyn's mouth. She's got one hand on Caitlyn's bare shoulder and another already wrapped in her hair. Caitlyn isn't so chivalrous. Her hands roam, gripping onto Vi's upper arm, then her waist, then greedily running over her breasts and thighs. She needs to breathe, but she also wouldn't mind suffocating like this. She'd die doing what she loved, they'd say: kissing a pretty girl. 

It's Vi who pulls away first, but she doesn't stray far, kissing down Caitlyn's neck. It gives Caitlyn the opportunity to pop open the buttons on Vi's shirt. Each button gives up a fight, and she groans in frustration as Vi keeps kissing lower and lower. She sucks a mark at her pulsepoint, and Caitlyn should probably say something, tell her that she doesn't want any marks because she has a shoot in two days. 

But that would be a lie. She wants to see Vi's touch on her for days. She can't help the sound that leaves her as she merely thinks about it.

“God, you're so hot,” Vi says. “I've been thinking about you since you bumped into me.” 

Caitlyn's cheeks feel warm. “I like hearing you talk.” 

But she likes it even more when she gets that damn shirt off Vi, and then her plain white bra. She takes in her upper body, and her brain nearly short-circuits. There's tattoos peaking over Vi's shoulders from her back. Her stomach muscles are defined: there's a clear v-shape at her hips, and Caitlyn knows that she needs to get Vi out of her jeans as soon as she can. Her tits are small and cute, and she can't stop herself from leaning down to take a soft nipple into her mouth and suck. 

Vi laughs breathlessly. “You're a little vain, aren't you?” But her eyes don't leave Caitlyn's as she plays with Vi's tits with one hand and fiddles with her belt buckle with the other. 

Caitlyn grins against her skin. “Yeah, of course. All those stereotypes you've heard about vain, spoilt models? All true.” 

“Spoilt, huh?” Vi says, suddenly sitting up on her knees and pushing Caitlyn gently down into the velvety couch cushions. “Lucky me.” 

Caitlyn nearly protests about the fact that Vi is still wearing those stupid jeans, but then Vi starts kissing down Caitlyn's body again. She presses mark after mark into Caitlyn's stomach, holds her hips hard enough that her fingernails leave indents there. With every swipe of her tongue, every touch of those soft lips, Caitlyn feels herself going insane. She tries pressing her legs together, relieving some of the tension that's rising in her like a wave, but Vi's hands find her thighs and hold them apart. 

“Please.” 

“Hmm. What is it?” Vi says, like an arse, because she knows exactly what it is. 

“You're not paying attention to the right place.” 

“Oh? What should I be paying attention to?” 

Caitlyn's so past shame. If Vi wants to play it like this and drive Caitlyn crazy, then she'll give her a taste of her own medicine. She brings two fingers to her mouth, licks them down to the knuckle, holding Vi's gaze the entire time, and then takes them out and presses them to her clit. Her back arches at the feeling, the satisfaction she's been waiting for all night. She moans and butterflies flutter in her stomach as Vi's eyes fall to her aching cunt. 

“Here I was,” she says with a gasp, always rough with her own fingers, “hoping you'd do this for me.” 

“God, you're a tease.”

Caitlyn yelps when Vi suddenly takes her into her arms, lifting her up. Her legs wrap around Vi's waist on instinct, her hands gripping onto Vi's strong shoulders. She starts to run her fingers along the bold black lines of Vi's tattoos and thinks she might be dripping down her thighs, making a mess of Vi's stomach, but that's her business. 

“Where's your bedroom?”

“Down the hallway, second door on the left.” 

She presses herself to Vi as she kisses her neck, while Vi navigates through the dark hallway. Being carried through her house, her skin hot against Vi's, Caitlyn giggles. This is too much fun. 

When Vi finally reaches her bed, she doesn't just drop her onto the sheets as Caitlyn expected. She lays her down so gently, with such a soft, reverent smile that Caitlyn can't help but blush. Vi's just looking at her like she can't believe she's here with her. Caitlyn feels the air shift in the room, under Vi's heavy gaze and complete focus. She presses a kiss to the corner of Caitlyn's mouth and practically shudders.

“Tell me what you want.” 

It's like a flame ignites in Caitlyn's stomach; Vi says the words like it's a prayer. 

She reaches out for Vi's fingers, thick, a little rough and completely maddening. She taps two of them and says low, “I want to feel these.”

She expects Vi to bring them up to Caitlyn's lips, tell her to open wide, but she surprises Caitlyn again. She takes her two fingers into her own mouth, holding Caitlyn's gaze. She watches in awe. With every glide of Vi's fingers past her lips, Caitlyn's mind spins and conjures a new fantasy. She wants Vi to take Caitlyn's fingers into her mouth, wants to watch her fingers slowly enter Vi's cunt. She imagines Vi sucking on her strap, getting so lost in it that she has to squeeze her eyes shut. 

Caitlyn's drawn out of her reverie when Vi takes her fingers from her mouth and finally touches Caitlyn's cunt. The touch of the wet digits to her clit has her arching her back again, always so sensitive and greedy for it. Vi strokes her for a moment, just watches Caitlyn writhe in pleasure, but Caitlyn can't take this for much longer. 

“In me, Vi. I need them in me.” 

“Yeah?” Vi whispers. And then her fingers move lower, feeling through Caitlyn's soaked folds and pressing shyly at her entrance. Her middle finger slides in, and Caitlyn hums at the feeling, but she's not nearly full enough. She wants to feel stretched. 

“I want two. You don't have to be so gentle with me.”

Vi lets out a small laugh, but her cheeks go completely pink. Like she's not sure how to be anything else.

This might be the end of Caitlyn. This strong, beautiful woman who’s so soft with her.

Vi curls her finger and presses a little harder into her – smiles happily when Caitlyn closes her eyes and gasps. Spurred on by Caitlyn's noises, she doesn't seem so tentative as her pointer finger pushes inside. Caitlyn groans, loving the feeling of too much and never enough, the way Vi's fingers curl again and find that spot that makes her see stars so easily. She doesn't ask Caitlyn for reassurance, but she wants to give it anyway. 

“Like that.” She barely recognises the breathy sound of her own voice. “That's – ungh – that's so good. God.”

Vi’s kissing Caitlyn again, her neck, her cheek, and every time Caitlyn opens her eyes she sees how Vi's studying her, reading every expression and responding with her fingers inside her. Caitlyn's chest burns hot when Vi presses a chaste kiss to her lips and turns to Caitlyn's cunt, watching as her fingers disappear inside her, and her palm brushes Caitlyn's clit. 

She's being too quiet. Caitlyn needs to hear her speak. 

“Can you – can you talk to me? I like – mmmh – hearing you talk.” Vi’s eyes meet hers again, and Caitlyn takes the opportunity to run her hand through Vi's hair and give it a light tug. She doesn't miss Vi's sharp intake of breath, the way her eyes go all dark and her mouth drops open so prettily. 

“You like how I'm touching you?” 

“Mmhmm.” 

“You feel so good around me.” Vi tries kissing Caitlyn again, but she's feeling too fucked out to really kiss back, just leaves her mouth open and pliant for her. “I feel pretty lucky, to see you like this. You're so fucking wet.” 

Caitlyn feels a third finger press against her and nods happily. In this moment, she needs to be full of Vi like she needs to breathe. When the third finally nudges inside, she moans so loud that she lets out a little laugh. “My neighbours are gonna hate me.” 

Vi grins at her and laughs too. It's such a cute sound. 

“I can't believe Caitlyn Kiramman is letting me touch her.” 

At that, Caitlyn's eyes go wide. “You know my last name?” 

“Mmhm,” Vi says, and leans in close to her ear. “I have a confession to make.”

“Yeah?” 

“I bought a magazine last week just because you were on the front cover.” Vi's fingers move a little faster now, making it harder for Caitlyn to follow on to this conversation. She feels too good. “You were wearing this blue sheer top and – god – you looked like something out of my dreams. And there you were tonight. Seems kind of fated, don't you think? I knew I had to find you.” Her palm presses harder against her clit again, sending sparks behind Caitlyn's eyes. “You're so fucking pretty like this, Cait.” 

Fuck. Caitlyn needs to come now. She can feel it, rising in her stomach, getting worse – getting better – every time Vi tells her how pretty she is, every time her fingers move so perfectly inside her. 

“I have a confession too,” she says, all sense flying out the window. “I've had a silly celebrity crush on you since your first film. I've, ahh, fantasised about you kissing me. Is that bad?” 

Vi smiles, and the fondness in it doesn't match the sinful ways she's touching her. But she presses her body even closer to Caitlyn's and says, “You can fantasise about me anytime you like.” 

That's all it takes. Caitlyn comes with a whine, her body spasming and thrumming with hot white pleasure as Vi strokes her through it. She can't remember the last time she came so hard, her legs shaking as Vi's touch borders on painful, too sensitive for anything more. 

She grabs both of Vi's wrists and in one quick motion, pins them over her head and straddles her hips. Vi's got this lazy grin on her face, so pleased with herself and happy to feel Caitlyn's full weight on top of her. 

“You fantasise about this too?” She tries moving her hands but Caitlyn just pushes them down harder against the soft sheets. 

She had been right. Vi does look pretty like this, pink hair spread out messily on her bed. 

“You're a little vain, aren't you,” Caitlyn echoes, but really, she's too desperate to tease her properly. She leans down and kisses Vi hungrily, moaning into her mouth like Vi's still fucking her. 

“Keep your hands like this while I eat you out.” It's not a request, and for a moment she worries that Vi will roll her eyes, call Caitlyn bossy when she really needs this. But she doesn't. She just nods obediently, and when Caitlyn loosens her grip, Vi’s hands stay in their position. 

Caitlyn spends a lot of her time being told what to do. What to wear, how to walk, when to smile. And that's fine – she loves her job, feels lucky to do it. But it's fun to be in charge. To tell a pretty girl what to do and have her listen. 

Caitlyn moves down Vi's body and rids her of her jeans and boxer shorts at last. Her thighs, thick and muscular, are covered in tattoos as well, and Caitlyn spends a little time kissing between them, leaving marks that make Vi breathe a little faster. She wants Vi to remember her too. 

With the first swipe of her tongue against Vi's soaked cunt, Caitlyn moans at the taste of her, and Vi's whole body shakes. She lets out a pretty sigh as her heels dig into the mattress, as her thighs flex and her eyes close. But her arms stay as Caitlyn left them, locked together above her head. 

Caitlyn smiles, and presses a warm, pleased kiss against Vi. Sue her, she likes that Vi's listening to her so well. She licks around her entrance, savouring the taste of it, then presses her mouth to Vi's swollen clit and hums at the way Vi bucks her hips, chasing the feeling. It sparks all kinds of pictures in Caitlyn's head, but the one she can't stop thinking about is Vi riding her face for hours. She needs to make this good for her; she needs Vi to come back to her again after this. 

“Fuck, fuck, Caitlyn.” Vi says her name over and over, and Caitlyn angles her hips to rut against the mattress like a dog, already desperate to come for the second time as she fucks Vi on her tongue. She needs Vi to keep saying her name. God, she really might be self-obsessed. Or maybe she's just obsessed with how it sounds when Vi says it. 

“Please, let me touch you.” Caitlyn looks up at her as she continues lapping at her clit, knowing how it must look and feeling satisfied when Vi's mouth hangs open in awe. “Can I, baby? Please?” 

Baby. She groans and Vi seizes up at the feeling, and Caitlyn nods her head quickly, suddenly needing Vi's fingers on her again. In an instant, Vi's hands find their place in her hair, tugging hard as she ruts against Caitlyn's face. It's the hottest thing Caitlyn's ever experienced, and she needs to tell Vi that, needs her to know how much she's affecting her, but then she’s pressing her own cunt hard onto the bed as she comes again, unable to stop the sounds that are coming from her and moving her tongue even deeper against Vi. 

“Holy shit, did you come again? Like eating pussy that much?” It would sound a lot more cocky if it weren't for the fact that as soon as Caitlyn nods and moans again, Vi’s whole body locks up and she pushes Caitlyn's mouth away from her with a pretty gasp. Caitlyn doesn't mind the rough treatment, not when she gets to look at Vi shaking, at her puffy clit and her fucked out smile. 

Then Vi pulls her up, grabbing Caitlyn's arms and taking her mouth in another rough kiss. She can probably taste herself on Caitlyn's tongue. 

They stay like that for a while, just lazily kissing. Now that she's thinking a little clearer, there's a question Caitlyn needs to know the answer to. 

“How long are you in London for?” 

It takes Vi a moment to absorb the question. “Just two days. I wanted to see the sights.”

Vi gives her that look again, all bashful and soft, now that she's face to face with her. 

“What would you say if I asked you to cancel your plans? Or maybe you could let me show you around?” In that moment, Caitlyn has a sudden realisation. She doesn't care if Vi stays in her bed for the next two days or if she drags Caitlyn all over the city. All that matters is spending more time with her. 

“I'd like that a lot.” 

Caitlyn hides her smile in the crook of Vi's neck. Vi can borrow her clothes tomorrow, a pair of sunglasses and a cap, and they can wander around London and hope that the paparazzi don't find them. 

Even if they do, Caitlyn wouldn't really care. She wants to see photos of Vi in her clothes, holding Caitlyn's hand.

Notes:

"Vi as Jo March," I shout as they take me to the asylum

This is the start of the most obsessive relationship ever, and I'm so obsessed with them I may write a part two

As always, any kudos and comments are so appreciated <3

Chapter 2: i'm see through, for you

Notes:

thank you SO MUCH to everyone who read this fic and left kudos. and if you left a comment? i'm giving you a huge kiss on the forehead because you motivated me to write part two. i hope you enjoy!!!

“What do you mean you got locked in the park?” 

Some things in life rarely change. Caitlyn carries out the same routine more or less every morning, regardless of whether she's in her London flat or a hotel in another city: check her to-do list in her journal, brush her teeth, do some quick skincare, eat breakfast (peanut butter on toast with banana and blueberries, if possible). There's the fact that Caitlyn will probably always be a plant-murderer, no matter how hard she tries – though Vi was kind enough to not point out the sorry state of her houseplants. And then there's how Jayce will always be horrified by the fact that his assumed kid sister nearly got in trouble. They'll be eighty-five in the same care home and Jayce will be genuinely shocked when she steals all the chocolate pudding cups. 

“We didn't realise that they locked the gates,” Caitlyn explains. “It's fine. We got out, didn't we?” 

“Don't they usually check there's no one still in there and announce they're closing? How could you have missed that?”

In her defence, she and Vi were hidden behind a tree at the time. 

It's been three days, and yet Caitlyn is still reeling from one of the best weekends she's had in a long time. Just as Caitlyn asked, Vi spent the entire Saturday with her. She woke to Vi's shy kiss on her shoulder, and then Vi gave her the prettiest, boxy grin when she got the full view of Caitlyn's terrible bedhead. They ate breakfast together in the flat – Caitlyn's usual – and Vi asked Caitlyn to take her to all her favourite spots in the city.

“Oh, and the science museum,” she said. “My sister says I have to go there and see if it's worth all the hours on the plane.” 

Vi seemed to think it was, if the way she looked at all the rocket models and galaxy simulations was any indication. 

They ate as much as they could, first trying out the pork buns from a small Chinese bakery near the museum, then chai from the weekend market near Caitlyn's place, and finally pho from her local Vietnamese cafe. Vi hadn't wanted the night to end yet, and Caitlyn loved to hear her talk, so they just walked until they found themselves in a park, half an hour away from her flat. 

“So, does London get the Vi seal of approval?” 

“Mmm. I think so,” she said. “I might have to come again.” 

“That's good,” Caitlyn said simply, slipping her hand into Vi's. She felt bubbles in her stomach, sparks in her chest just from the touch of her. And then Vi kissed her, and Caitlyn turned to putty in her hands. 

One minute they were standing in the middle of the park pathway, and the next Vi was moving Caitlyn gently until her back was pressed up against a tree. It was so easy to lose track of time, just kissing her. It was only when she felt Vi's hands loop into the belt of her skirt, when her own hands started to wander under Vi's shirt – god, she wanted to touch Vi's abs forever – that they realised they needed to get back to Caitlyn's flat. 

Even from afar, Caitlyn could make out the heavy chain looped around the park gates. She wondered whether there was a number for park rangers who wouldn't mind coming to let two idiots out. 

Vi wasn't worried like she was. She got to the gate, crossed her hands together, and held them out for Caitlyn. 

“Come on. Hop up.” 

Caitlyn blinked at Vi, who smiled, totally unfazed. “You're serious?”

“Duh. Just lift off, grab the railing and climb over. I'll climb up after.” 

“You’ve done stuff like this before?”

Vi grinned, all lopsided and pretty. “Who hasn't snuck into a place they shouldn't and had to run from security guards?” 

Caitlyn climbed over the gate, embarrassed by how clumsy she must have looked to Vi, and then, just as she said, Vi scaled the gate and hopped right over. She landed easily, rubbed her hands off on her jeans. 

“What?” she said, when she caught Caitlyn staring.

She was so hot. Caitlyn grabbed her hand and practically made her run back to her flat. 

They showered together, innocent at first until Caitlyn pushed Vi up against the tile and fucked her with her fingers from behind. She dried Vi off with her towel, kneeling on the floor reverently just because she wanted to. And then she asked Vi to sit on her face like she imagined the night before. It was one of the best hours of her fucking life. 

She must make a face as her mind wanders, because Jayce flicks her forehead. 

“What the hell? Ow!” 

“You're gross. You've got this dopey look on your face,” Jayce says, but he's giving her a knowing smile. “Have you messaged her yet?”

Caitlyn's stomach drops. It's been three days. “No.” 

“Why the fuck not?” 

She shrugs. “She’s busy with her life. In the US, remember?” 

Just because they had an incredible two days together and Caitlyn can't seem to get Vi out of her head, it doesn't mean that Vi feels the same. They had obviously exchanged numbers before Vi left the next day for a small press junket, but Vi hasn't sent her anything. Maybe she'll just message Caitlyn again the next time she's in London for a press tour. And they can have life altering sex again, and that will be it. 

“So? You liked her, didn't you?” 

Caitlyn nods, feeling like she's being scolded.

“Then text her.” 

She rolls her eyes. “You've got a lot of advice for someone who was pining for Viktor for literal years.” 

“Exactly,” Jayce says. “I know what I'm talking about. You could learn a thing or two from your wise, handsome older brother.”

Caitlyn fakes raising a hand to hit him. He ducks and laughs, and steers the conversation to the shoot in Milan in three months, the restaurants and bars he wants to visit. 

She wonders whether Vi's thought of her at all. 

She doesn't text her. 

Two days later, Caitlyn’s in the dressing room getting ready for a practice runthrough for Viktor's next show. She's wearing her first look but none of the accompanying makeup: her plain face looks at odds with the whole fantasy thing Viktor’s got going with this outfit, layers of frilly skirts under a metallic lilac corset with an undershirt fashioned entirely out of pearly white ribbons. She looks like a pirate princess. She gets out her phone to take a photo to post on her Instagram once the show is done, figures her fans will like this particular look and seeing her bare face with it. But then she sees her notification bar. 

She's got a message from Vi. Fifteen seconds ago. 

She opens it immediately, without thinking about playing it cool or pretending that she's busy. 

There's a photo attached to the message. It shows a picture of a magazine stand in some supermarket, and the magazine at the very centre of the frame has Caitlyn's face on it. She stares up with a severe look, like she’s wondering why the camera's even bothering her. She's wearing a plain grey dress and small, orange, rectangular glasses, the whole “office siren” kind of look, and the angle of the camera, looking down on her, highlights her cleavage. She looks mean, unattainable and a bit forbidden. Like a work crush you shouldn't have but want anyway. 

And underneath the photo, the messages. 

V: saw this and it felt like a sign. need to stop second guessing myself and just send a text. how you been? 

Caitlyn stares at her phone, unsure of how to reply to that. It's not what she was expecting after nearly a week. She figured that Vi had forgotten about her. 

C: good, work's been busy. how are you? 

The typing bubbles pop up immediately. 

V: I'm good. 

And then –

V: I'm gonna be honest, I keep thinking about you. are you free for a call tonight? 

Someone calls Caitlyn's name, but she doesn't care. She just keeps reading that message, again and again. 

C: I'll call you once I'm done with work. 

It doesn't feel like enough, so she adds another, quick message, and nearly slams her phone down on the dressing table before she can see Vi's reply. 

C: I keep thinking about you too.

 

 

That night, Caitlyn calls Vi at eight, making it midday in L.A. 

They talk for four hours.

At first, they stick to work: Caitlyn’s next show, Vi's upcoming audition for a film, about the kind of television roles she would love to have one day. 

“It would be cool to be in a comedy for a change. You know what I'd love? Being a goofy detective. I think I could do that.” 

“Oh, I'd watch that. Would you keep the pink hair?” 

“Nah, they probably wouldn't want that. Maybe I'd go for bright green instead.” 

“What if you were the first woman Joker?” 

“Oh my god.” 

“Think of the diversity win, Vi.” She's laughing, her stomach fizzing with glee when she hears Vi's deep laugh too. “The inspiration you'd be to so many young girls everywhere.”

“You're the worst. I don't need any more sad male haters, thanks.” 

The conversation flows easily. They talk about their favourite movies, books that moved them. Caitlyn writes all of Vi's favourites down for later. Even when the conversation gets a bit silly, more theoretical, Caitlyn doesn't mind. Vi asks whether Caitlyn would rather go to space or the deep ocean. 

“Ocean, obviously. You could not pay me to leave earth.” 

“Really? But the ocean is kind of terrifying, no? The pressure, the darkness, fish that are basically aliens?”

“I would kill to see a strawberry squid. I'm not even kidding.” 

“Wait, let me look this up.” A moment later – “Oh, wow. Yeah, that's fucking awesome.” 

“Exactly. Ocean wins. Besides, once I had a dream I was in a spaceship and the crew was slowly getting eaten by space spiders, and then the spiders commandeered the ship and tilted the whole thing. I fell on a window and looked straight down at the earth, and behind that was just nothingness. No way. I'm not letting the space spiders get me.” 

There's silence at the other end of the phone. Caitlyn suddenly blushes and thinks, what the fuck is wrong with you? She never rambles like this to anyone but Jayce, because she knows that other people find her odd. That if she just speaks her mind, they'll give her funny looks and avoid conversations with her again. Even now, she remembers that unique brand of embarrassment that comes from being labelled a “weird girl” in high school, just because she’s autistic and didn't quite understand how to be like the other girls in that clique-filled hell of an academy.

Sometimes, it's easier to be the mean, rude, standoffish, dense model. 

But then Vi giggles the sweetest laugh Caitlyn's ever heard in her life, and her heart might actually skip a beat. 

“Okay, the space spiders have convinced me. I'll join you at the bottom of the ocean.” 

Caitlyn grips the cotton fabric of her pyjama shirt in her hands, just so she has something to channel all this anxious energy into. Maybe anxious is the wrong word. 

It's the first time she's had a crush in years. 

She imagines herself and Vi swimming with strawberry squid.  

After that night, a dam breaks. They text constantly, sending random pictures of things that make them smile during the day. The pancakes Caitlyn gets with Jayce on their day off. A cool plant Vi spots on her walks around town. Sometimes Caitlyn will just call Vi out of the blue in the evenings and they stay on the phone until she drifts to sleep. She wakes up to goodnight messages from Vi. Pink and blue hearts and the sleeping emoji. 

Thinking about Vi might be terminal. She’s there in Caitlyn's mind on the tube, at work, in bed when she’s scrolling through Youtube. One day, an interview with Vi pops up on her feed – shocker. It's not like her algorithm is starting to give her these updates on Vi as soon as her interviews and trailers are released. She clicks on the video immediately. 

It's one of those “coffee date” interviews with Marcie Grey, where it looks like a casual, spontaneous chat at a hipster cafe in L.A. Vi’s wearing a loose white shirt and pale green shorts, her tattoos gloriously on display. Her brown roots are starting to peek out of her bright pink hair. She's as gorgeous as ever. Caitlyn imagines sitting across from her, asking how she likes her coffee.

Marcie’s talking about Vi's near meteoric rise to acclaim in America, about her ambitions for her career and what it's been like to suddenly be thrust into the limelight. 

“You’re not just making waves here,” Marcie says excitedly. “You went to the Academy Gala in London! It’s one of the most exclusive events – I was wondering what you felt when you received that invitation?” 

“Oh, it was a huge surprise. I immediately called my sister and she started designing my outfit right away.” 

“Your sister designed your suit?”  

“Powder made lots of designs, yeah, but a lot of them were so out there, and eventually I asked her to collaborate with another designer I really admire, Ekko Flores, and together they came up with something that felt like me and fit the theme well, I felt. It was a really fun process. Any opportunity to work with brilliant artists is an honour.” 

God, Caitlyn is so whipped. The way Vi talks about everything with such sincerity – it warms her through to the bone. 

“And you must have met so many more brilliant people at the gala. I mean, the internet has gone a little crazy over the photos of you and the model Caitlyn Kiramman together. You met on the carpet and then were spotted again together at the end of the night.” 

Caitlyn's eyes narrow. She's experienced enough that she could have guessed that the interviewer was leading Vi right into these sorts of leading questions, but she's also caught off guard. Caitlyn didn't know that they were photographed together off the red carpet. She tries to run the night back in her mind, figure out when the paparazzi caught them. 

“Is there a question there?” 

Caitlyn snaps out of her thoughts when she hears Vi's voice. Her smile is easy going, her body language is purposefully open, but Caitlyn notices the slight scrunch of her eyebrows, the way her shoulders have shifted back slightly. It's subtle, but there's a sudden powerful strength to her posture. 

“What was it like meeting her?” 

Caitlyn expects Vi to shrug and say, “It was fine.” Then they can move on and get back to more interesting topics. 

But Vi keeps surprising her. 

“It was lovely. I actually bumped right into her on the carpet but she was so nice about it.” Caitlyn moves her face even closer to the screen in confusion. That wasn't how it happened. Caitlyn had walked into her by mistake. “We spoke and she could tell that I was out of my element, and she just helped me get out of my head. She's so easy to talk to; it's easy to understand why her fans love her so much. And I mean, she's insanely talented at what she does, so.” Her smile relaxes completely. She stretches out her fingers against her shorts. 

Caitlyn short-circuits. She clicks her phone off and stares up at the ceiling. 

No one talks about her like that. Well, maybe Jayce and Viktor. Mel is always sweet about her. 

It sounds different coming out of Vi's mouth though.

Her words echo in the silence of Caitlyn's room. She helped me. She's easy to talk to. She's talented.

It's easy to understand why people like her. 

Caitlyn presses a hand to her lips as her stomach flips and dives. She needs to see Vi again. 

She opens her phone and immediately drops it right on her nose. It hurts like a bitch but that doesn't matter. Caitlyn's looking up flights. 

She texts Vi: what would you say if I decided that I wanted to spend a week in LA?

She's looking for her passport and crafting messages to Viktor and her agent in her head when she gets a reply. 

V: I'd tell you not to bother booking a hotel room. 

Caitlyn despises long flights, but the second she sees Vi across the airport hall, it's worth it. 

They're both wearing sunglasses, and Vi's got a cap on to cover her pink hair, but it's starting to grow out a bit at the back. Caitlyn's mind immediately wanders, imagines playing with it, tangling her fingers in it. She hopes she's not totally red when Vi walks up to her and pulls her into a hug. 

“I’m so glad you're here,” she says. Caitlyn presses her smile into Vi's shoulder. 

They hold hands on the way to Vi's car. It’s a retro Ferrari, powder blue and looking like it drove right out of a 1960s sunset. Vi beams proudly as Caitlyn admires it, putting her small suitcase in the boot and explaining that she fixed up the car herself with her dad and siblings. Caitlyn goes to the passenger side, opens the door and sees the wheel.

“Everything is upside down here,” she says. 

Vi just chuckles and opens the car door on the other side. Closes it when Caitlyn steps in.

Caitlyn discovers something new. Vi is even more hot when she puts a hand on the back of Caitlyn's seat, reverses out of the airport parking space, and drives off. 

It's only two by the time they get to Vi's apartment. It's near all Vi's favourite places – her dad's house, her brother's garage, her favourite old diner with the best Oreo milkshakes you've ever had, apparently. 

“It's my turn to show you around,” Vi says as she unlocks the door. 

But she knows that Caitlyn must feel jetlagged and a little grimy from being on the plane for hours, so she tells Caitlyn where her shower is and says she'll get lunch plated up for her. 

“You cooked for me?” 

“Of course,” Vi says. “I'm actually a pretty good cook. Maybe I would have gone into catering if I hadn't taken a chance on acting.” 

Vi's apartment is so wonderfully hers. Posters and photographs are framed all over her walls, pictures of her and her siblings, glamour shots of her favourite actresses, old sketches of car models, illustrations of waterfalls and the beach. Her living room is lined with bookshelves, full of novels, DVDs and records. Up against a window, there's a skateboard, a baseball bat and an old guitar. 

Even Vi's bathroom is cute to Caitlyn. The walls are covered in tiles, all of them in different styles. Some of them have handprints in them and the painted names of Vi, her siblings and her dads. The water is hot and soothing on Caitlyn's skin. She presses her hand to the tile of Vi's little handprint. Age ten it says. 

She wonders if she and Vi would have been friends when they were younger, what Vi might have looked like as a kid. She knows it silly, but she hopes Vi would have liked her back then, when she was awkward with her too tall legs and her braces. 

She dries her hair and changes into a loose, bright yellow summer dress, and opens the door to the sweet smell of roasted butternut squash, tomatoes and peppers. She finds Vi in the kitchen with two bowls of a homemade stew. 

“This smells amazing,” Caitlyn says. The second she gets a taste, she moans, not even trying to be intentionally obscene. It's just that good. “Oh my god, you could quit your day job.”

Vi laughs and grins from ear to ear. “Thanks,” she says, looking away from Caitlyn as she blushes. 

When they finish eating, Vi doesn't let Caitlyn get up from the table to do the dishes. She leaves them in the sink and asks Caitlyn what tea she would like.

“You have tea? You don't even like it.”

“But you do though. What would you like? I bought English breakfast, ginger and lemon, and peppermint. Tell me one of those is right.” 

Caitlyn just stares at Vi's sweet smile from across the kitchen. And then, because she literally can't take the distance between them anymore, she stands up, crosses the room with purpose and pulls Vi into a kiss. 

It's needy almost immediately. She's been thinking about this for a month, missing Vi over the phone, during the long days and nights. She slips her tongue into Vi's mouth and smiles when she pulls a sweet gasp from her throat. 

“Woah,” Vi says when she pulls back for air. Caitlyn leaves a kiss on the corner of her lips, presses another to her jaw. Then her neck. “What's gotten into you?” 

“You got me tea,” Caitlyn says. 

She moves Vi's hips so she’s flush against the counter, and she kisses her again. One of Caitlyn's hands finds Vi's and their fingers intertwine, while her other hand finds Vi's jaw and holds her as they make out. She hasn't felt this alive in months. She can't believe that Vi's here again, letting Caitlyn kiss her, kissing her back. Vi's teeth catch on Caitlyn's bottom lip and tug slightly, and she moans loudly into her mouth. It's as magical as she remembers. 

They don't make it to the bedroom this time. Vi pushes Caitlyn into her couch, her hands roaming over Caitlyn's arms, her breasts, her stomach. Every touch leaves her breathless. Vi doesn't join her on the sofa, just kneels between her legs as she lifts up her sundress. Caitlyn takes off the straps, expects Vi to help her lift it over her head, but Vi takes Caitlyn's hands in her own and says, “No, let me leave it on.” The dress pools at her stomach, the front slipping off her chest. Caitlyn's doesn't see the appeal, but Vi presses a hungry kiss to Caitlyn's breast as her hands play with the fabric at Caitlyn's hips. She sucks a nipple into her mouth and Caitlyn finally cards her fingers through Vi's soft hair. 

“I missed having you like this,” Vi says, beginning to kiss her way down Caitlyn's body, wrapping a hand around Caitlyn's ankle and opening her legs even more. 

She presses long, slow kisses to the inside of Caitlyn's thighs, which nearly shake from anticipation. 

“I kept thinking about this,” Vi says. “I was kicking myself for not fucking you with my tongue last time.” 

Caitlyn laughs breathlessly, already in bliss looking down at Vi's face. In Vi's defence, Caitlyn hadn't let her back then, too hellbent on eating her out until she cried and turned to jelly. 

“Well now you can make up for it, right?”

Vi smiles, presses a kiss right over Caitlyn's white panties. “Mmhmm.” 

Her tongue peeks out, feeling her through the fabric, and Caitlyn throws her head back against the sofa cushions. 

“Fuck, you're so wet, baby.” 

Caitlyn blushes. Not because of Vi's words, or the position she's in. But because Vi's gone straight to calling her baby. 

Her kisses are light, warm, and Caitlyn’s quickly getting impatient. She tugs gently on Vi's hair, pushing her a little closer. 

“Please. Please take them off.” 

Vi looks up at her, smiles beautifully between her legs. 

“Since you asked so nicely.” 

She pulls Caitlyn’s panties off but doesn't let go of them. They remain hooked on one hand, which comes back to Caitlyn's hip and grips it tight. 

The first touch of Vi's tongue to her bare cunt pulls a gasp from Caitlyn's lips. The sensation is so soft, silky smooth as Vi licks at her hole slowly, moaning like she's savouring the taste. It's even better than Caitlyn's imagined – in bed at night, alone with a hand shoved down her pyjama bottoms; in the shower, holding the spray between her legs; at work, squeezing her legs together and trying to calm down – and her hips involuntarily buck into Vi's mouth. Vi pushes her hips harshly back down, but draws soothing circles into the skin with the pads of her thumbs. 

She's losing her grip on this world with every touch from Vi's lips and tongue, her nose in Caitlyn's curls, her eyes staring up at her with such intensity that her stomach twists with desire and pleasure. Vi's tongue is fucking magical. She can't stop herself from throwing her head back again, even though her neck twinges slightly in pain from the sudden motion. Vi’s soft, insistent tongue fucks into her slowly, again and again. It's so good she wants to scream. 

“Fuck, Vi, that's – you're good at this.” 

She feels Vi smile against her dripping cunt. “Just good?” she says, her tongue licking deliciously between her folds. 

“Sorry, I – I don't remember any other adjectives right now.” 

Vi laughs, all deep and so, so sexy, and Caitlyn's stomach swoops from the vibration of it. Her mouth drops open and won't close again.

“God, I want – uungh –” 

A particularly incredible turn of Vi's slick tongue stops her from finishing that sentence. But then Vi's pulling away, and Caitlyn nearly panics. Her hot breath against Caitlyn's clit almost makes her lose her mind, and she tries lightly tugging Vi’s hair, getting her back to where she needs her, but Vi’s just smiling at her, slightly raising her eyebrow like Caitlyn's said something fascinating. 

“What were you saying, cupcake?” 

She blinks at her. “Cupcake?” 

“Yeah, because you're so sweet. Like a cupcake,” Vi says, and it sounds so scandalous when she glances down at Caitlyn's wet cunt like that. Caitlyn just watches her, wonders why she's not getting back to eating her out. Vi’s eyes meet hers again, all expectant.

“What?” she says, too fucked out to follow whatever conversation Vi wants to have.

“What were you gonna say? Sorry, I cut you off.” Vi, the absolute bastard, licks her bottom lip and hums. Caitlyn can see how slick her lips are. She wants to kiss Vi. She wants Vi to suck on her clit until she screams. 

“I – I don't fucking remember, please –” 

“I want – mmmh ahh,” Vi impersonates her, moaning so gratuitously that Caitlyn lightly slaps her shoulder with a laugh. “What were you gonna say?”

“I –” Caitlyn purses her lips together. “I don't know, Vi.”

It's a lie. There's a terrible thought that’s been running through Caitlyn's mind on repeat. But she really can’t share it, because this is probably a casual fling, something Vi isn't taking too seriously, and hell, Caitlyn's never had an entanglement with someone that didn't revolve around just tearing each other's clothes off and chasing release. 

But with Vi, her mind's been spinning off track. She’s thinking about holding her hand. About talking until midnight, over the phone or in person. About asking Vi where she got each and every poster in her house from, how long she's played guitar for, whether she'll show Caitlyn how to skateboard. She wants to pick out tiles with her. 

She can't stop imagining all of it. 

“Just tell me what you want, baby.” Vi brings a finger to Caitlyn's folds, but it's a ghost touch. 

Maybe Caitlyn can tell her, and later, when Vi brushes her off and says she’s not looking for anything serious, Caitlyn can say it was just sex talk. It didn't mean anything. Even if it does.  

She takes a hand out and cups Vi's cheek, pulls her up to press an open kiss to her lips. Their tongues touch and Caitlyn tastes herself. She keeps her eyes closed and barely pulls away when she says it. 

“I want this all the time. I wish we could just stay like this.” 

Caitlyn only peeks a look because she hears Vi's stuttering breath. Her eyes look overcome with bliss – Caitlyn can think of no other way to describe it. Her cheeks go bright pink, and her lips part slightly as she stares at Caitlyn in something like awe. Vi presses one more searing kiss to Caitlyn's lips, and then she's pushing herself down her body again, and her tongue returns to Caitlyn's cunt, messy and more desperate than before. She closes her eyes as she laps greedily against Caitlyn, like she doesn't want to miss anything Caitlyn's will give her, and then her fingers find her aching clit. Vi moans against Caitlyn and she thinks she feels the vibration in her bones. Her tongue slips between her folds and sets Caitlyn's body alight, over and over. 

“Yes, god, please! Vi, please. That's – god, you're fucking perfect.”

That tongue moves up to her clit, licks there softly, brilliantly, and something in Caitlyn's stomach tightens. Her entire body shakes and, finally, she comes apart. She can't even attempt to quiet the sound that leaves her. She shuts her eyes and lets the electric feeling of Vi’s mouth on her run through her veins. She is merciful, pressing one final, soft kiss to Caitlyn – she's so fucking sensitive, god – and then she starts sucking marks into the insides of her thighs, up the expanse of Caitlyn's stomach as her breathing steadies. 

“I don't think I'll be able to stop thinking about you,” Vi whispers against her collarbone. It could be a passing comment. Or it could be a confession, but holier. 

Despite wanting nothing more than to believe Vi, she has to check and make sure. She’s still herself, careful with her heart even as she thinks of ripping it right out and tying a bow on it for Vi. 

“Do you really mean that?” 

There's a pause. Vi's hands stop drawing patterns on her skin. She stops kissing at Caitlyn's chest. She just looks up and stares, her pretty blue eyes all wide. Then, slowly, she brings a hand to Caitlyn's cheek and gives her the prettiest smile.

“I wouldn't say it if I didn't mean it.” 

Caitlyn exhales, her lungs shaking, heart racing. She closes her eyes, unable to take the full force of the look on Vi's face, but then she misses it and opens them again. Vi is there, her eyes soft and gentle. 

“Did you mean what you said before?” she asks.

Caitlyn nods. “I – I know this sounds like a line, but I've never really felt this way about anyone before. I don't know what I'm doing.”

Without hesitating, Vi presses a kiss to Caitlyn's cheek. “I don't know what you're doing to me either. I just know I don't want you to stop.” 

Over the next week, Caitlyn Kiramman is more active on Instagram than she's been in months. 

First, there's a photo of sunlight bleeding through a window. Her fans don't recognise the colour of the walls, the potted plant and tall mirror, covered in painted stars and sunflowers. The caption just says L.A. with a pink heart. Her fans start theorising why she's there. 

caitkiss: ooh LA shoot?? we're about to be fed WELL

caitlynsmiddlefinger: wait a minute this is NOT her room where is she???

kirammansgirl: i swear that mirror is familiar i can't place it

Next, a series of photos of Caitlyn at the beach. She's smiling in all of them, a clear departure from her usual, intense gaze. She’s wearing a small purple bikini, her skin already tanned, covered in sea droplets and little flecks of white sand. In one photo, Caitlyn's lying back on her beach towel, looking up at someone behind the camera. Their shadow falls over her. 

lynnie02: ugh she's so hot

newmidnight10: damn is this how i realise i like girls?

kirammansgirl: omg cait who are you wiiiith??!

Then there's a picture of two tall milkshakes, one Oreo and one strawberry, in an old diner. The caption reads, everything here is so sweet, i could get used to this

caitkiss: okay she’s definitely soft launching somebody here lol caitlyn just SHOW US

kirammansgirl: she was spotted yesterday with vi brooke!! they must be dating 

reply from caitkiss: couple of the century i fear

reply from lynnie02: can vi brooke fight?

reply from kirammansgirl: dude have you seen her??

The next day, there's a post from Vi Brooke's Instagram, which has been inactive for six months.  

It's a photo of her at the beach, grinning as Caitlyn Kiramman presses a kiss to her cheek. 

The caption reads, yeah I can fight. who's first?

 

 

Notes:

guys they're so sexy i think i'll pass out