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They first meet at a bar on the outskirts of the lower city, under pulsing red lights and the influence of half priced syrupy-sweet cocktails. Caitlyn’s touching up her lipgloss in the least of the disgusting bathroom mirrors, wincing at the sting of thin straps against her bandaged feet; wondering, absently, if an appropriate amount of time has passed to text Mel a flimsy excuse for her departure, when a finely muscled woman bursts through the door.
“Gods,” she huffs, shaking what looks to be melted snow out of her vibrant hair, tearing across the dirty tile until her boots halt, abruptly, right next to Caitlyn’s silk stilettos, “what a shithole.”
“Surely you can’t mean this fine establishment?” Caitlyn quips, liquor leaving her tongue loose and her voice deep- though the sudden, sticky discomfort between her legs can be attributed to something else entirely.
“Fucking bouncer wouldn’t let me in without a cover, even though he knows me.” The butch- and perhaps Caitlyn should not label every stranger she comes across based on presentation alone, surely Cassandra instilled more manners within her, but it’s a dyke bar and it’s Zaun and this is most surely a butch- meets her eyes in the foggy mirror then freezes, as if startled. “Oh, wow. You are insanely beautiful.”
The broken brain-to-mouth filter is humorous, and Caitlyn is careful not to sound too put off when she scoffs. Her rollerball of perfume is easily accessible in her purse, and so she begins meticulously reapplying it for this captive audience of one; teases across her wrists and a slow drag down her throat, through the gaping neckline of her flowy top and down between her loose breasts. It’s easy enough to get the other woman’s full attention- she knows she looks good, after all, for she has felt the borderline disrespectful leers of the bar’s patrons all evening. They both clearly have braved the brisk winter sludge for the same exact reasons, and this handsome butch already looks a little desperate, and Caitlyn so loves to get what she wants.
“Obviously.”
The woman sighs heavily, as if unable to decide if this answer has pleased her or ruined her. She inches closer, and the half a foot that Caitlyn has on her is so deeply charming she cannot help but straighten her spine up to its full length, making their size difference even more obvious, staring down into pewter irises that would surely pool into little hearts were it possible.
She sounds dreamy, as she says, “And tall. You came here alone, hopefully?”
Caitlyn makes an indifferent noise, gaze roaming up and down the other woman, taking it all in- the spiky mullet, the tattoo peeking out from beneath a soft looking sweatshirt; a carabiner hooked directly onto a ring in the middle of black cargo pants, an array of keys weighing it down.
“And if I hadn’t?”
Vi shrugs, a smug grin stretching across her face. “The muscles aren’t just for show, ma’am.”
Caitlyn hums. She likes that. Perhaps it is not her top term of endearment, but it’s close enough to make her pulse thud.
“Ma’am, hm? Nothing less impersonal comes to mind?” Before the woman can respond- and she clearly wants to, her mouth dropping open slightly, her pupils dilating at the implication- Caitlyn barrels on. “Well, seems it’s your lucky night. No bloody knuckles necessary. I’m Caitlyn.”
Her grin changes to something eager, all canine sharpness and hunger and, most importantly, seemingly absent of even a shred of recognition. She’s clearly not interested in Caitlyn for the Kiramman crest necklace shining in fourteen karat glory at the hallow of her neck, doesn’t correlate long indigo hair and sharp eyes with anything other than her own desire. “I’m Vi.”
The shearling collar of Caitlyn’s trench coat threatens to cling to the sweat beading down her neck. She pulls her phone out of her purse, shoots Mel a quick, apologetic text, then swaps it out with her embossed pack of menthols.
“Well, Vi. Do you happen to have a light?”
_____
Later- after easy, flowing conversation, with topics ranging from whether the slop served at Jericho’s could be counted as real food, to different experiences on the blustering old bathysphere at the edge of the city perimeter that had left them both sure they were about to plummet to their deaths, to a heated debate on which of their distinct passions, boxing or shooting, could be considered more of a real sport- they move from the front entrance of the bar to the side of the building. Even later than that- though truthfully, not much later at all- Caitlyn has Vi pressed against cold brick, her heels crunching across the pavement, one thigh nudged up between Vi’s two thick ones. Her second cigarette, half-smoked, has long since been abandoned, the burnt cherry end fizzing out in a puddle; sliding her fingers along Vi’s stomach, feeling for the cut of her well-earned abs distinct under a plush layer of fat, seems far more important.
She bites down on the other woman’s bottom lip, a feral little thrill rushing through her. Vi tastes of tropical rum and warm saliva, and she is so pliant, so sweet, mindlessly rocking up against Caitlyn’s thigh, confidence melding into neediness so quickly it’s making her head spin. She is sure Vi came prowling the queer neighborhood on a Friday with the intention of finding some listless, selfish lover to top for the night, and though it’s fair to assume that many would want exactly that outcome, it took her all of five seconds to figure out it is one Vi simply would have settled for.
But, Caitlyn thinks, humming as Vi buries her soft face into the swell of her breasts, that just won’t do. And so: “You’re coming home with me, aren't you, darling?”
Vi groans, her hips jumping, warmth radiating through her pants and onto Caitlyn’s bare thigh. Caitlyn wants to taste whatever has pooled in her boxers so badly that she aches with it. “Fuck. Yes. Please.”
“And you mind your manners. How lovely.” A group of women, drunk and giggly, peer around the corner of the building as they exit the bar- it takes only one sharp warning look from Caitlyn for them to all interlock hands and scatter, their gossip echoing in the perfumed cloud they leave behind. She turns back to Vi, and sees that she has not even noticed the intrusion, preoccupied as she is having her way with Caitlyn’s thigh, chasing her first orgasm. “Would you be more comfortable at your place, or mine?”
Vi shudders, attempting one last drag of her clothed cunt against firm muscle; Caitlyn tsks, tugging at her hair until her head is tilted back, her lovely face framed by the silvery light of the moon. “I- I live closer than you do, probably, but…”
“I have disinfected toys,” Caitlyn offers, not interested in wasting precious time fumbling around the proverbial bush when she could be fumbling around an actual one, “and silk bedding. And a clawfoot bathtub, if that’s appealing.”
“Piltie, right. So I can take a long, luxurious bath after you fuck me into the mattress?”
Caitlyn gives her a bruising kiss, licking into her mouth and tasting the want in her huffing breaths. She thinks of the lavender oil on her en suite shelf, of the towel warmer Vi will probably scoff at initially, but will secretly appreciate once she is boneless and clean and wrapped up in the fluffy comfort of warm cotton. “Exactly.”
Vi blows out a breath, and it condenses in the air between them, sweet and warm. Caitlyn knows her answer before she even says it; the request is triumphant to hear, all the same. “Your place, then. Please?”
_____
Completely bare and stretched out on Caitlyn’s massive canopy bed, Vi looks right at home, content like the spoiled cats Caitlyn sees licking themselves in the gilded windows of her neighborhood’s residences. It’s endearing, how shameless she is; kicking off her boots at the door respectfully, then making a beeline directly for Caitlyn’s bedroom, shedding articles of clothing as she goes. Caitlyn follows the trail eagerly, already imagining how Vi will look underneath her, open and panting and wet.
“A girl could get used to this view, ya know.” Vi sounds a little breathless, as she stares out the window and down onto the shimmering lights of Piltover. It is a beautiful view, of course- made even more so by the layer of frost covering everything- and a large reason Caitlyn had picked this particular building once she left her family’s estate. But she’s not fooled- Vi is not affected by the sprawling city, nor the whispering show of wealth. She is affected by Caitlyn, eager and perhaps a tad nervous for whatever is going to happen between them.
“I must admit that it doesn’t get old.”
She approaches her bed, bare feet sinking into the plush, ornate rug beneath it. She wants to make sure Vi is comfortable- she is eager, and it is clear, but her nerves are just as obvious. Caitlyn gets the impression that Vi does not receive often, and that she subs even less; she will make a beautifully desperate, needy little bottom, but discussions must be had.
Luckily, Caitlyn is an expert at honeying expectations through flirtatious banter, making sure everyone is in eager agreement while maintaining whatever tension has been built- and tonight, that tension is so thick she thinks it could be bitten right through like marzipan.
“Can’t say the same about the lanes. The neon gives me a headache, most nights. Makes it difficult to sleep.”
Caitlyn kneels on the bed, lifting her fingers to stroke through Vi’s hair, her thumb rubbing at the prickly shaven sides. Vi nudges into it, her eyes fluttering closed, her body shifting to be more accessible to Caitlyn’s wandering grasp. She’s so big, of an average height but stocky and lusciously built, as though carved from the finest marble- Caitlyn wants to devour her.
“I’m sure you’ll have a deep rest here.”
Vi rolls her neck until her gaze easily meets Caitlyn’s, her eyes half-lidded with amusement and lust both, her cheeks already a swath of rose and freckles. “Mm. For more reasons than one, huh?”
Caitlyn hums, dragging her hand down the line of Vi’s neck, letting her blunt nails scrape against her dusky pink nipples. Her chest is so lovely, smooth and gently rounded, her breasts tightly cradled by her pecs. She lifts one delicate eyebrow, and Vi encourages her touch further by arching her back, letting her arms stretch above her head. Caitlyn has no choice but to ogle, leaning down to press identical kisses to the magenta tufts of air under each arm, coaxing out a girlish giggle. “You got some weird armpit kink or something?”
“I’ve got a sweet butch kink.” Without warning, she lavishes her tongue over one of Vi’s nipples, taking the nub into her mouth with a sort of reverence she doesn’t tend to hold for other hookups. She doesn’t have the capacity to think too deeply about it, though, not when Vi sighs so prettily for her, her thighs falling open, the musky smell of her blooming. Caitlyn compartmentalizes her desire to look after this woman, to utterly and completely own her pleasure; her lips slant around Vi’s skin, instead, pleased at the effect she is having. “See? Sugary.”
“Here’s hoping you like them impatient, too.”
Caitlyn switches to the other nipple, cradling the spit-damp one between two of her fingers, tweaking it on just the right side of harsh. “I don’t particularly care, one way or the other. You’ll get what I want you to have, when I want you to have it.”
Vi laughs, a dazed, incredulous thing, staring up at the domed ceilings as Caitlyn continues to work her breasts in her favor; relishing, pervertedly, in how Vi’s thighs clench when she bites down, how her stomach tenses in anticipation whenever she slides her hands across her sweaty, muscled abdomen. “Janna.”
“Ma’am is just fine.”
There’s nothing tricky about bringing it up to Vi; Vi, short for Violet, who had told her on the train ride into Piltover, just tipsy enough to be a tad bit too vulnerable, that she usually expected something different from hookups; that she was vaguely unfamiliar with being the center of attention, the one getting fucked. She prefers to do the fucking, she had told Caitlyn, because it feels like the kind of control she never had over her own life, cliches be damned. And she likes making women feel good, likes feeling them around her fingers or her tongue or her strap, likes watching their eyes flutter, their faces morph in pleasure, beautiful but often unsightly due to how genuinely they are enjoying themselves. She’s not opposed to being in that position, she had clarified shyly- she loves to be touched, to be told what to do, but it historically wasn’t her role.
And Caitlyn had asked, Isn’t submission a form of control? with her hand inching up Vi’s thigh, watching as snow blurred past the windows beyond the train, muddying the warm street lamps. Wouldn’t it be nice, if sometimes you allowed yourself freedom from choice? Indulged in the pleasure of not having to think for a little while?
Vi had blushed then, on the train, and she blushes even deeper now, tilting her hips in Caitlyn’s direction. “You can’t be much older than me.”
“I’m twenty-seven.”
“So am I! And I’m definitely not a ma’am. How could you be?”
There are a million ways Caitlyn could respond to this- something about respect irregardless of age, or perhaps about how she is almost positive Vi would prefer, in certain contexts, sir instead- but she chooses to level the other woman with a fond look.
“You’re being very silly.” She drags her lips down Vi’s neck for good measure, tasting the thudding point of her pulse, the salt of her sweat. “And I think it’s on purpose.”
Vi’s hands clench and then unclench, as if she wants to reach for Caitlyn but is unsure if she is allowed to touch. She is, of course, but Caitlyn doesn’t mind making her wait for it, making her wonder, leaving her suspended in sweet, disciplined torture for awhile longer. She swallows hard, the question Caitlyn has been anticipating at the tip of her tongue; Caitlyn fingers the cut of her hipbones as she patiently waits.
“You said- back at the bar, I mean, you mentioned…”
“Something more personal.”
Vi blows out a breath, slowly nodding, her eyes now locked onto where Caitlyn’s breasts, free from her shirt, hang plump and pale in the warmth of her bedroom air. She looks ready to drool, and though Caitlyn deeply wants her mouth, knows that Vi might get even more out of latching onto her chest than Caitlyn herself will, she wants to get their erotic negations out of the way first.
“Yeah. That.”
Caitlyn hums, making the difficult choice of removing her touch from Vi in order to get her hands on her own breasts, rubbing them lazily, indulging herself in the carnal pleasure of Vi’s needy whimper, her rapt attention.
“Ma’am is nice, on occasion. It feels harsh, though, doesn’t it? Like… like a proper scene in a red room. Leather and whips and all that.”
Vi gulps. “Uh-huh.”
“But you don’t want that, do you, Violet?”
“Nuh-uh.”
Caitlyn smiles, sickly sweet, pressing a kiss to Vi’s forehead, the corner of her plush mouth, the cheeky little tattoo beneath her eye.
“I think you want something softer, hm? Something more intimate. Nurturing, almost.”
She can feel the heat radiating off of Vi, desire burning through her so heavily that she seems unsure of how to navigate it, seems lost in the sweetest, most delicious kind of way, drunk on need, the kind of need that requires a-
“Mommy?”
_____
The noises Vi is making beneath her are so precious, so unbelievably, charmingly demanding, that Caitlyn has no choice but to spoil her rotten.
She deserves it, of course, as sweet as she has been, as sweet as Caitlyn knows she will continue to be, like a toothache you keep pressing your tongue against. She whines when Caitlyn’s mouth drags down her lovely, soft happy trail, squirms when she buries her nose into the fragrant, damp curls between her legs. She pleads, all soft around the edges: Please, mommy? when Caitlyn licks a broad path up her slit, collecting the sticky wetness that has gathered there.
She tastes divine, all musk and clean salt, heady and warm, thick in Caitlyn’s mouth, and Caitlyn eats deeply of her. She’s leaking everywhere- onto purple silk, in the divot of her ass, all over her inner thighs and Caitlyn’s face alike. And it causes a possessive surge to overtake Caitlyn- the smell and taste of her so strong, the sound of her so beautiful, the feel of her so velvet-soft; her submission so freely given, her trust barely earned but preciously handled. Caitlyn doesn’t want anyone else seeing Vi like this, as her little girl, and there is a selfish, ugly part of her that is almost glad Vi has never had it like this before.
“That’s right, sweetheart,” Caitlyn coos as Vi begins aimlessly humping her face, her breath hitching eagerly each time Caitlyn allows her nose to be nudged into that lovely, flushed little clit, her breathless ah-ah-ahs better than any drug, “be a good girl and ride mommy’s face.”
She sounds tortured, as she whines, “My- I can’t, mommy, my legs, they’re-“
Caitlyn immediately senses the problem; her poor darling has a horrible case of the trembles, her limbs useless and jelly-filled, the whites of her eyes fluttering beneath her long lashes. She’s done enough labor, Caitlyn decides, and so she gently eases Vi down flat on her back, taking a moment to tenderly kiss the hot tears off of her cheeks, to then press her wet lips to Vi’s own. Her girl hums, radiating pleasure, letting Caitlyn lick into her mouth and deposit the taste of her own cunt there.
“Sweet, handsome girl. All fucked out and she hasn’t even come yet. I think we should change that, don’t you?”
Vi moans, desperate, as Caitlyn kisses her way back down her body, languidly reaching her destination, digging into her cunt again with renewed vigor. Vi doesn’t last long, this time around, her thighs clamping tightly around Caitlyn’s head, her fingers scrabbling for purchase amongst tangled navy locks.
“A-ah, right there, mommy, pleasepleaseplease-“ Caitlyn hums, knowing the vibration will go straight to Vi’s core, then groans in satisfaction when Vi nearly shouts herself hoarse, her toes curling atop Caitlyn’s shoulders. “I’m going to- I’m going to come, mommy, oh, gods-“
She sounds absolutely devastated about it, whining high in the back of her throat as she comes on Caitlyn’s aching tongue, her pleasure gushing out of her, sloppy and so fucking attractive it makes Caitlyn dizzy. She stops her ministrations only when Vi goes completely boneless, her legs flopping open even further, her breaths coming heavy and fast. Caitlyn rests her body weight on top of Vi, luxuriating in the feeling of their naked, tacky skin pressed together.
Finally, after a few wonderful moments of listening to Vi's heartbeat, Caitlyn teases, “Mm. How do you feel, darling?”
She grunts, shifting as if she wants to wrap her arms around Caitlyn but doesn’t have the strength to do so. Caitlyn wriggles atop her, one thigh sliding between Vi’s own once again- displeased with the non-answer despite knowing Vi has been well fucked- simply because she wants to see…
“Ah,” Caitlyn murmurs, watching through hooded eyes as Vi makes a sweet keening noise, her body going rigid with overstimulation, her cunt smearing wet warmth all over Caitlyn’s stomach and legs, “does my sweet girl want another orgasm?”
“Mommy,” Vi moans fearfully, burying her sweaty face in Caitlyn’s chest, her greedy tongue poking out to lick at Caitlyn’s nipples, to suck at the tender skin of her breasts, “I can’t…”
“Hush,” Caitlyn soothes, rolling Vi onto her belly with minimal effort, “of course you can. Mommy will do all the work- you just have to lie there and be her perfect little girl.”
It takes no effort at all to get herself inside of Vi- she is open and hot, still pleasantly drenched, her lips flushed and ripe, beautifully bloomed. Caitlyn eases Vi’s ass into the air, pressing a kiss to her spine before gently pushing her face into one of the pillows- and from there she is unsure how long she kneels, working Vi over, a thumb at her clit; her free hand alternating between tweaking Vi’s perked nipples, rubbing through her messy hair, and pressing down onto her tongue until her drool runs a bubbling line down Caitlyn’s wrist.
She loses herself in the pleasure of wringing her butch out, relentlessly crooking herself towards that tender, spongy spot once she finds it, listening to the dazed, beautiful noises it grants her. It is only once Vi has gone creamy around her three fingers, her cunt beginning to make a lovely sloshing noise, her whines turning to wails, threading higher and more drawn-out, that Caitlyn relents. She massages at Vi’s clit, the swollen, wet flesh giving easily to her touch, and she feels Vi get even looser, watches as her chest drops like dead weight onto the mattress.
“S’good, mommy, so good- you’re makin’ me feel s’fucking good-“
She’s slurring, now, drool pooling out of her without the help of Caitlyn’s fingers in her mouth; and Caitlyn takes pity on the poor, beautiful thing, kissing and then licking and then biting at the nape of her neck, pounding her fingers inside of Vi’s cunt, as deep as she can possibly get them.
“Come on, my love, mommy wants you to come again- get all slick and boneless- oh, there she is, what a good, perfect girl.”
Her second orgasm is nearly silent; Caitlyn maintains her deep, languid thrusts as she bends at the waist to get a good look at Vi’s face. It is speckled and red, fresh tears rolling down her cheeks, her eyes completely black, her lips swollen with orgasm. She is the most beautiful woman Caitlyn has ever seen- and she is so lucky, to have this butch in her bed, drunk on fulfilling sex and pleasure.
Vi’s soft pants fill the room, as Caitlyn eases her fingers out, leaving one last, lingering kiss on the shiny lips of her cunt. She stretches out onto her back, helping Vi to navigate until her face rests atop Caitlyn’s breast, one limp leg between Caitlyn’s own.
She rubs at Vi’s soft stomach, unable to stop herself from kissing her forehead, her nails scratching at her broad back. She is almost positive that, were she physically capable, Vi would be purring. And she is entirely content to let her sweet girl fall asleep just as she is, the need for her own orgasm pounding between her legs but very manageable. Except-
“Are you g’nna come, mommy?” Vi whispers, her sweet, sleepy voice somehow still so eager. Caitlyn hums, crooking one wrinkled finger beneath her chin until those luminescent eyes blink up at her. Vi blushes, visible even in the darkened room- Caitlyn supposes it is because a fresh burst of her scent rests between them, now- and trails her hand down Caitlyn’s stomach, her gaze questioning.
“Mm. What a sweet girl, worried about me.”
Vi nudges into her palm, humming when Caitlyn cradles her face, her lips marking a path across that round little face. “I want to help. Please.”
“And still so polite.”
Caitlyn offers the breadth of her chest for devouring, and Vi flops facedown onto her breasts as though she could not possibly be happier about it, her lips wrapping around one dark nipple. Caitlyn guides her thick fingers the rest of the way down, languidly teaching Vi how to massage around her clit, how to dip between her folds to gather the wetness but to not breach, not this time. Vi is a quick, voracious learner, just as Caitlyn knew she would be; soon she is touching Caitlyn blindly without guidance, not coming up from her breasts for air.
Typically, orgasm is an excruciatingly long process for Caitlyn. She is not of the belief that the point of sexual intimacy is to come, and often when topping she does not bother with it, too busy making sure her partner feels good to worry about the ache in her own cunt. But there is something different about Vi- many things, if she’s being honest with herself, each one of them better than the last- and it brings about a problem she hasn’t really ever faced before: she is so turned on that she might simply perish if she doesn’t come soon.
Luckily, Vi seems intent on making this happen, even if it is in a mindless, dazed sort of way. Her fingers are steady and patient, her mouth slowly going from one nipple to the other, never letting one get too cold or lonely. It’s slow but exact, just the way Caitlyn likes it; more intimate than she would ever dare to get with a hookup, though she hopes with a raw, genuine longing that this thing between them- simply too heavenly to be labeled casual- will blossom into something more than that.
“So good with your fingers, my darling, can you- oh.”
It is this that does Caitlyn in, ruins her for all others: Vi, sweet, earnest Violet, blinks up at her, eyes completely glazed over, lost in the thrumming, diaphanous sheen of subspace. She is totally, utterly out of it, her lips still slowly, methodically suckling on Caitlyn’s nipples, her fingers tracing a repetitive pattern around her clit. Her hips have started leisurely moving, humping up against Caitlyn’s waist- and Caitlyn doesn’t even think she knows she’s doing it. A wave of hot, molten arousal slams into her at breakneck speed, and her orgasm tears through her entire body; she grasps onto Vi’s hair a little rougher than she means to, but she doesn’t think her sweet girl even notices, her eyelids fluttering shut once more, her tongue so warm against Caitlyn’s breasts.
“Fucking- oh, gods, good girl. Violet, my darling, how do you feel?”
Vi blinks at her again, her face dusky and lovely, her body gone shivery. Caitlyn nudges her oh-so-gently, and Vi lets her mouth go slack around a solid nipple, as if only now realizing she is being spoken to. “Very good, mommy, did you- um…”
Caitlyn pulls her up to face level, dropping kisses over every square inch of skin she can reach; feeling so unbelievably fond when Vi squirms in pleasure, cuddles up even closer to her mommy, as melded together as they can possibly be.
“Of course I did, sweetheart. Because of you. Thank you.”
Vi hums, her attention sliding back down to Caitlyn’s chest, spit-soaked and dewy. Her eyes go even more lidded than they already were, and, well-
What kind of mommy would Caitlyn be, if she didn’t indulge her little girl? And so she gently guides Vi’s head back down, awaiting the soft suction of her plush mouth.
_____
It is only once Caitlyn has Vi in her bathtub- warm, silken water and iridescent bubbles, her bathroom lamps set to their lowest, apricot setting, the smell of lavender heavy in the air- that she begins to come back to herself.
“Hello, darling.” Caitlyn greets, as soon as she feels the shift in Vi’s posture- subtle, but enough to let her know the other woman has come back down to earth. “How are you feeling?”
Vi drops her head back against Caitlyn’s shoulder, stretching out until her muscles pop. “I feel… incredible.” Shyly, she blinks up at Caitlyn with newfound clarity, and Caitlyn cannot tell if the pink in her cheeks is from the water, or something more. “Thank you, mommy.”
Caitlyn kisses her, deep and slow, enjoying the way Vi’s slippery body glides against hers. “Violet, it was genuinely my pleasure.”
They bathe in comfortable silence, until they are both uncomfortably wrinkly, the water gone lukewarm despite their blistering body temperatures.
“I… really liked this.”
Vi whispers this confession, as if frightened that if she wants too loudly, it might all come crashing down around her. And Caitlyn knows, intrinsically, that whatever the pull she is feeling is- the magnetic, otherworldly draw to this woman, something so much deeper and scarier than simple lust- whatever that feeling is, she knows Vi is feeling it too.
She also keeps her voice at a whisper, as she says, “So did I.”
There is more quiet for a minute, and then:
“Maybe we should do it again.”
Caitlyn kisses her shoulder, glad Vi is sat in front of her so that her grin is hidden, even though she is sure it will show in her voice.
“Perhaps we should simply… keep doing it. And supplement it with dinners out, or movie nights on the couch. Sometimes. Often, even.”
“Yeah,” Vi breathes, pressing closer to her beneath the water, “I think that sounds really nice.”
_____
Once they have dried off, Caitlyn uses the very last bit of energy she has to strip and refresh the bed, refusing Vi’s timid offer of help. They finally bury themselves between clean, not soaked-through sheets as the moon hits its highest position in the night sky, the stars twinkling through her window. Vi shifts in her arms, completely melty and boneless, snuggling deeper into her position as little spoon. She smells like Caitlyn- like her mommy, Caitlyn thinks, then has to bite back an agonized, pleased groan, if only because she needs Vi to rest well so that she can actually utilize the toy collection she had lured the other woman here with in the first place- and she makes a cute mewling noise as Caitlyn nestles her face between her broad shoulder blades, sliding one arm out of the blankets to cradle her close.
The position doesn't last long; Vi rolls over lazily after a moment, seeming to favor having her face mushed against Caitlyn's breasts. Caitlyn has a sneaking suspicion that she will wake in the morning to find a particularly adorable butch latched onto one of her nipples.
This is not a possibility she is put off by in the slightest.
“Hey, Caitlyn?” Vi suddenly mumbles, her voice slurry and low, clearly on the verge of sleep. Caitlyn makes a soft, questioning noise, cuddling Vi deeper into the long line of her body.
Begrudgingly, like a grumpy kitten, she admits something.
“I can’t believe I’m about to say this, but that stupid fucking towel warmer was totally worth whatever insane price you paid for it.”