Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

From Vita Sackville-West to Virginia Woolf
Milan
Thursday, January 21, 1926

I am reduced to a thing that wants Virginia. I composed a beautiful letter to you in the sleepless nightmare hours of the night, and it has all gone: I just miss you, in a quite simple desperate human way. … I miss you even more than I could have believed; and I was prepared to miss you a good deal. So this letter is just really a squeal of pain. It is incredible how essential to me you have become.

You have no idea how stand-offish I can be with people I don’t love. I have brought it to a fine art. But you have broken down my defences. And I don’t really resent it …

Please forgive me for writing such a miserable letter.

V.

*******

“It’s not cheating if it’s an open relationship,” the small redheaded woman says reassuringly. “It’s not cheating if it’s not against the rules.”

Looking back, it was hard to remember whose idea it was. It seemed to be suffused throughout all the media at the time – movies, television, profiles of libertines and artists. If you were a person of any counter-cultural bent whatsoever, it was presumed you were at least monogomish, or else you were simply stuffy. Surely life was too short to just have sex with the same person forever until one of you died or moved on? And what if the tendency to move on, over and over again, is just a reflection of the truth that one person can’t be everything to another person? And surely it was unevolved to be jealous if a person shared their body with another person when they were already sharing their life with you, because you didn’t own them?

And now Caitlyn and Maddie were in the kitchen on a Sunday morning over coffee discussing the hypothetical terms of their hypothetical non-monogamy.

“Is there someone that you have in mind?” Caitlyn asks, frowning. A little knot forming in her stomach. Who could …

Who could Maddie desire, and what could that person possibly have that Caitlyn didn’t have?

“No, not in particular,” Maddie replies, naturally enough. Caitlyn is aware she is scanning for subtext, sniffing out a whiff of rejection, but she doesn’t find any that reaches her conscious awareness. The other woman seems honest when she says, kindly: “It’s just something I’ve always been interested in. Ever since I was a teen.”

The two women had met in college. Maddie had been studying forensic science and Caitlyn journalism; Caitlyn had interviewed her for some articles on campus policing and Maddie had been straightforward and dogged about asking her to spend time together afterwards. Caitlyn had had difficulty making friends; her classmates had found her awkward and standoffish, perplexingly literal, but also intimidating. She was no stranger to one-offs and one night stands – she was rich and hot and posed an alluring challenge to a certain kind of woman, and she liked the feeling of her power working – but rarely sustained a fling past a second date. So when Maddie kept asking, eventually Caitlyn said yes.

It was good, actually, to have someone to spend time with. Someone who wasn’t using her to get a sense of their own value for a night.

Maddie had an analytical brain, and they enjoyed solving puzzles and working through problems together. Their first dates were escape rooms, trivia nights, rock climbing. It was satisfying to feel like they were on a team together, fulfilling to have someone to share her thoughts and theories with. Maddie kept asking, and Maddie kept showing up.

So now …

Not that Caitlyn wasn’t interested in the possibilities.

But it didn’t feel particularly good.

… not that Caitlyn wasn’t interested in the possibilities.

She had noticed. At first it felt novel to get to know someone, to be able to explore the same terrain again and again and see how the responses changed over the days, weeks, months. A pride in knowing the exact way to get another person off fast. The potency of that. The smugness. The flush emblazoned across Maddie’s entire face, the indelible stamp of want, her eyes dark and gaze heavy, drugged out. Caitlyn did that. Caitlyn was the drug. It brought her chest forward, pushed her shoulders back. After a shower she’d enter the room Maddie was in and she would draw her attention from her book with the inevitability of gravity. She would see it drop over her face, first speculation, then want. She would see herself work on the other woman.

She could just walk around their place and be perfectly herself and be wanted. Not tested against or preyed upon, but sampled. Appreciated.

But then, of course, after the months came years. And after the second year …

She could enter the room Maddie was in and Maddie wouldn’t look up from her book.

And it was easier to notice this than to notice that Caitlyn herself had probably never felt that way to begin with.

Not that she would have put it this way, but there was something sort of relaxing about having someone who didn’t have enough pull on her to knock her off her center.

What could possibly feel better than control?

Besides, Caitlyn had her career to think about.

*****

“You promised no more puff pieces, Mel.”

Mel Medarda, features editor for the Piltover Press, sits behind her opulent desk and places her cup of coffee down on it. Her expression is accommodating but not apologetic. “I don’t believe I did, Caitlyn. I believe I told you that I would try my best to get your more serious work traction. I cannot express enough how little the top brass are interested in your corruption pieces –”

“Mel –”

“And that is not an opinion I share! I am perfectly willing to advocate for you, it is truly my pleasure as your editor, and I think your work merits it. But I need you to give me something to work with, Cait. If I can keep bringing something upstairs to show them you’re a team player, I can give you a little bit more slack on the leash. You can’t just do things your way. Not here.”

The unspoken part: that’s what everyone expects you to do as a Kiramman.

Caitlyn squeezes the bridge of her nose and sighs. She can feel herself surrender a bit to the logic of it, to her trust in her editor. “A sports piece, Mel? What do I know about boxing?”

“It’s a human interest piece.”

Caitlyn shoots Mel a look as if to say: even worse! And Mel holds her gaze steadily, unperturbed. “This woman was in Stillwater, she’s an amateur fighter now, and she runs a boxing gym in the undercity where she trains other women who have been in prison. If she wins this fight, then part of the money goes to funding the gym. It’s a feel-good profile.”

“A feel-good profile about a woman who makes a living with her fists helping other women beat each other up?”

Mel shoots her a smile. “Have you ever considered for once in your life that it might serve you to not be so difficult?”

“I’m afraid not,” Caitlyn says dryly.

“Well. I was told that this issue needed more women in it, and I was given this tip by a friend. If you would prefer to investigate your own women’s sports interests and come up with an article by Friday, I welcome –”

Caitlyn raises her hands in surrender. “No. Fine. I’ll do what you ask, but I want your assurance that my next article can be entirely of my own choosing.”

“Done. Fill out our sports issue and your next article can be whatever hard-hitting social justice piece your righteous little heart desires.”

Well. She could not say that Mel did not understand her.

“Deal.”

*****

She gets to the gym at 2pm that Monday having skipped lunch, dressed in a dark turtleneck and dark pants, a belt with a little gold buckle pulling the outfit together. She wanted to look somewhat casual but feel a little professional, a little sexy, and looking around, she finds she has overshot – she is wildly overdressed, and how form-fitting her outfit is makes her feel a little bit exposed, even. The few people here are in big boxy sweats, t-shirts with slogans, some of them blood-stained.

Of course. Of course.

Right away she sees her, going to town on a speed bag, the syncopated rhythm hypnotic. One two three one two three one two three, her wrapped fists sailing through the air as she swipes powerfully, first away, then back towards her, then rolling one fist after another, thud thud thud thud thud thud. Her back is turned to Caitlyn and her tattooed shoulders are rippling, exposed by her binding tank top. Her short pink hair is choppy with sweat, and there is a sheen of moisture dripping down her back.

Caitlyn is suddenly hungry.

She waits for a pause which doesn’t come, just this muscular woman continuing to beat on this little ball with precision and escalating complexity. It’s surprisingly fast and fluid, and she looks like she’s dancing, bobbing and weaving in a way that suggests she is enjoying herself.

“Um, hello? Sorry to interrupt –”

The woman gives a dozen or so more rough punches, escalating to finish, and turns towards Caitlyn. Her breath catches. Cobalt blue eyes, hooded in appraisal, peer out from under the sweaty pink hair. Full lips, with the suggestion of a sneer, split with a scar on one side. A tattoo –

Well, at least she knows this is the woman she’s looking for.

“Hello, Vi I presume? My name’s Caitlyn Kiramman, I’m the reporter from the Piltover Press. It’s a pleasure to meet you.”

Vi is breathing heavily, her shoulders rising and falling, her expression serious. Caitlyn more feels than sees her look her up and down, take in her snug clothes and snatched little waist, and she feels perceived in a way that is just this side of uncomfortable. Her internal atmosphere feels like the moments before a storm.

“You don’t say,” this woman says lightly, and gestures with her head before she walks off in that direction. Caitlyn follows and Vi grabs a towel from a folded up pile next to the laundry cart, shakes it open, and rubs it through her hair, dabs her face, drapes it over her shoulders. She grabs a water bottle and squirts it into her mouth, swallows, swipes her wrapped hand across her wet mouth as she considers Caitlyn again. She is coiled but also loose, high from exertion, taking the measure of the woman opposite her and the next period of time.

Finally, she seems to decide, and the hint of a self-satisfied little smile crosses her face.

“Pleasure to meet you too.”

“I appreciate you meeting with me,” Caitlyn says, more earnestly than she had anticipated. “My editor found your story inspiring and I think it serves as an excellent example of the power of sport –”

“What, the inspiring power of women beating the shit out of each other?”

Caitlyn inhales sharply, having heard herself, and then finds that Vi ls smiling teasingly, and blushes.

“I … apologize, if that sounded out of touch. I have to admit that sports isn’t my area of expertise. But I’m excited to get to know more.” And then she finds she has added: “... and to learn more about you.”

Is Caitlyn doing her job or flirting?

“Well, I gotta admit,” Vi says, leaning fetchingly against the laundry cart, “I was only doing this cause Sevika put me up to it. She said it might be good publicity for the gym. But I get a little uncomfortable under scrutiny.”

“Oh?”

“Just … when all the attention goes one way. Kinda feels like I’m under a microscope.”

“I promise I’ll start gentle,” she hears herself say, and who is this Caitlyn?

Vi’s teasing smile broadens into open delight. “I believe that,” she says slowly, and looks Caitlyn’s tight body up and down. “I imagine you’re very good at restraint.”

Oh my. This is getting away from her quickly. Something inside of her is thawing fast now, some urge, some way of being. She seeks footing. “Well listen. I’m actually very hungry. The morning got away from me. Restraint only goes so far. Can I take you out to lunch? ”

“I’m open to that. But I have a condition.”

“Oh?”

“I appreciate the offer of gentleness. And lunch. But I think it’s only fair if I get to learn a little something about you.”

Caitlyn tenses. Being the daughter of an extremely wealthy councilwoman means that people mostly want to know things about her for their own personal gain. Worse, she has a suspicion that this formerly incarcerated boxer from the undercity would have definite opinions about her lavishly privileged upbringing. Opinions that would get in the way of her job and … other things, no reason. “That’s not really how an interview works,” she replies after a moment.

“If you want to interview me, that’s how it’s going to work.”

They regard each other for a bit, waiting to see if the other would back down. She sees the toughness and wryness in the other woman’s face, but also a softness that she hadn’t caught before. She finds herself wondering what Vi would ask her about herself. Wondering what it would feel like to be just a little bit known by her.

To surrender.

Caitlyn folds. “Fine,” she says. “But you have to be gentle too.”

Vi is barely smug when she says, “Just because I hit people for a living doesn’t mean I can’t be gentle.”

*****

“How long have you been fighting?”

“Forever. For money? Well, I won my first prize at 22.”

“Forever?”

“Whoa Cupcake, you said you’d start gentle.” Vi spreads her hands out defensively, then twines her fingers behind her head and leans back in her chair. Her energy is languid and loose. “Anyhow, it’s your turn. How long have you been a journalist?”

Caitlyn makes a face. “Also forever. I was on the newspaper in high school. I interned at the Piltover Press in college, and they hired me on after I graduated.”

“So that was your dream job?”

“Was fighting your dream job?”

Vi laughs shortly. “Nobody I know has ever had a dream job. I’m just lucky I get paid to hit people. Sometimes.” Vi brings her hands back around and cracks her knuckles. “Is that your question?”

“You asked a follow-up first, I just followed your lead. I’m being very accommodating. Are we going tit-for-tat?”

“I sure hope so. Does that mean I get to ask more questions? I have far more tats than you have …” Vi gestures.

Caitlyn huffs. “I thought you said you could be gentle. It seems very much like you’re enjoying making this hard on me.”

The side of Vi’s mouth twitches.

Caitlyn hears it and sighs. She crosses her arms across her chest and sits back in her chair. “As impressed as I am by your wide assortment of innuendos, I would appreciate even more if you could just give me some of the information I need to do my job.”

“You asked how long I’ve been fighting. Well, I’ve been protecting my family from thugs in the neighborhood ever since I was a little kid. I protected my kid sister during the riots when our parents got killed. And then when our adoptive dad died in an explosion and I took the heat for that and got thrown in prison, I fought most days to keep my teeth in my head and my organs free from holes. And then when I got out, I just kept fighting cause it’s all I knew how to do. Because I didn’t know how not to. Because sometimes it’s the only time I know for sure I’m alive.” Vi looks at Caitlyn intently, a bit of a dare sparkling in her eyes. “Is that useful information for you?”

Caitlyn swallows and takes a breath. She meets Vi’s gaze – feels like it’s her obligation after asking so callously. There’s that thawing feeling again, but it has a whole different character now, less focused and more spacious. She finds she wants to reach across the table and touch this woman’s hand.

“I – apologize. You’re right, the circumstances of your life are more than just information. I’m accustomed to doing investigative journalism, and the softer skills of a personal interview aren’t exactly my strong suit.”

Vi takes this in and seems to switch gears. She even leaves the potential innuendo untouched. “That’s … alright. I kinda picked up on that. No harm done. Listen, I think I figured out how you can make it up to me. Part of the reason I agreed to this whole thing in the first place is because I’m trying to raise money for the gym. We’re getting a donation and I agreed to show face at this fundraiser gala and talk about how generous this guy is and I’m gonna need a date. You seem like exactly the kind of person who knows what to do in a situation like that.” Vi pauses, possibly for effect, and adds: “And I’m sure you would look real good doing it.”

Caitlyn feels her blood pumping through her body with tidal force. She notices all the reasons this would be a terrible idea, probably unethical professionally and also possibly unethical personally, depending.

She also notices the open speculation on Vi’s face, the frank interest, the desire.

She notices what it feels like to be desired by this woman, and every objection slips away.

“Yes,” she says. “I would like that.”

*****

Maddie’s breathing is slow and steady in the bed next to Caitlyn. She’s probably been asleep for a half hour, maybe more. Caitlyn isn’t sure how long she’s been lying there staring at the ceiling, seeing lips and shoulders. She knows she’s wet.

And she knows she doesn’t want Maddie to know anything about it.

It’s possible that’s making her even wetter.

The hypothetical terms to their hypothetical non-monogamy:

No friends. No co-workers. Don’t fall in love.

Check, check, and check.

Are there a lot of questions left unanswered by these meager provisions? Yes. Is Caitlyn concerned about what that means for her relationship? No. That is much less interesting to her at this moment than the warmth gathering in her belly.

That is much less interesting to her than imagining what it might feel like to run her tongue against the dip of the scar over the boxer’s lip as their bodies press together, long slender torso against dense, corrugated abs.

She wonders how wet she is, exactly. That’s all. That’s why she slowly runs her hand down her own body, over the pert curve of her breast, the smooth skin of her belly, the broad triangle of her hip, the tidy thatch of coarse hair, down to the velvety slit of her cunt.

Her fingers glide against her entrance, frictionless. Turns out she’s profoundly wet. She wouldn’t have been this wet since …

She doesn’t know.

She puts that observation aside for now.

*******

The gala is at the massive and elegant historic library that her family’s donations have paid for the preservation of, of course, and she keeps that fact to herself. When she gets out of the car she finds that Vi is standing outside waiting for her, leaning against the building with her foot propped against the wall rakishly, arms crossed. She winks when she sees her.

Caitlyn wonders how long she had been waiting to pull that off.

It hardly matters, because she looks stunning. It is astonishing to see this boxer in a tuxedo, and as they walk to meet each other Caitlyn finds her attention drawn straight to the scar on her lip, the tattoo on her face, and how alluring she finds the juxtaposition. They embrace cordially and Caitlyn feels Vi’s rough hand graze her exposed back. She struggles to control her shudder.

Caitlyn herself is wearing a sleeveless black gown with a plunging v neckline that goes to her sternum and a slit that reveals one exquisitely long leg. She sees Vi see it, and she sees Vi seeing her looking at Vi’s little bow tie, and instead of saying anything they both laugh.

“Wow.”

“Wow yourself,” Caitlyn says, and offers her arm.

Even as it happens Caitlyn knows the memory of walking into the ballroom on this woman’s arm is going to stay with her for the rest of her life. Vi is gallant and lovely, and gets her a drink right away. She holds a glass of cabernet and Vi is drinking an old fashioned as they stand together near the wall and get their bearings.

“Imagine my surprise to actually want to be at one of these,” Caitlyn teases.

Vi gazes at her levelly and she realizes that the other woman does not know anything about her at all. Vi says wonderingly, “I thought you looked rich.”

Caitlyn blushes and seeks refuge in her glass of wine. She says, “I thought you knew. Caitlyn Kiramman. My mother’s the Councilor.”

“But you’re a reporter. You’re doing a profile on an ex-convict amateur boxer who runs a community gym in Zaun. Why?”

“Short answer? My editor asked me to.”

Vi scoffs. “Okay. Long answer?”

“I like investigating. I like putting the pieces of the puzzle together and exposing injustice. I want to be of service to the community too. I want to be doing hard-hitting work, but … I have to make my way up the ladder first. So …” She shrugs her shoulders. “It’s not so bad. This recent assignment was … much more compelling than I anticipated.”

Vi smirks a little. “So I’m making it worth your time?”

Caitlyn smiles. “Am I making it worth yours?”

They stand there regarding each other for a moment when a small, unctuous man comes by and places his hand on Vi’s arm. “Vi, there you are. What a treat to have you here. There’s so many people I simply must introduce you to before you go on.” He turns to Caitlyn and grimaces. “My apologies, my dear, but this one has work to do! Vi, may I borrow you for a bit?” He turns back to Caitlyn, “I do promise I’ll return her in one piece.”

Vi looks at her apologetically. “I’m sorry, I’m going to have to make some rounds. I won’t leave you to look after yourself for too long.”

“That’s perfectly alright. I’m sure I can amuse myself.” She raises her glass at Vi. “Give them a show.”

It’s true she is alright left to her own devices for a bit. She also does not want to talk to a single person here besides Vi, and she finds it charming to watch her work the room from a distance. It is after the second glass of wine that she realizes a terrible heat is rising within her, and she can’t stop staring at Vi’s mouth.

She is speculatively looking around the room appraisingly for any nook or vestibule, anything to offer a modicum of remove. Just as a fantasy at first, she imagines them huddled into a corner, Vi’s hands around her waist. But the more the fantasizing progresses the more she finds she needs to press into this woman, feel the warmth of her body against her own, her softness and hardness. She needs to taste her breath. She can feel her own breath coming fast. It feels like an emergency.

It is delicious to feel something so strongly. It is rotten, it is so terrifying.

She can feel the curtains drop behind her own eyes and her own single-minded focus narrow. She is aware that she is perilously close to getting carried away.

Caitlyn sees Vi disentangle herself from a wealthy couple with a slight bow, charmingly apologetic, and weave her way across the room drink in hand to make her way back to Caitlyn. And Caitlyn sees the moment that Vi catches the expression on her face, sees the recognition splash across Vi’s face, and the blooming of that knowledge there. And Caitlyn is too carried away to care, too certain in the conviction of her want to be embarrassed at being exposed.

“Cupcake,” Vi says, and perhaps the tips of her ears are a bit pink, her voice surprisingly husky. “Being a good girl without me?”

I need you, she thinks. She says, “I’m trying very hard. But I’m just barely managing.”

“Oh? Is there anything I can do to help?”

“Yes, actually. When’s your speech? I want to show you something.”

“I’m on in 30.”

“I think that’s just enough time. Come with me.”

“Whoa whoa,” Vi says, swallowing. “What if I’m nervous and I need this time to prepare?”

“If you’re nervous,” Caitlyn says, and maybe it is the wine reaching out a finger for Vi’s shoulder and drawing it towards the center of her chest, “then this might help … distract you.”

Vi looks at her watch, looks at the promise in Caitlyn’s face, looks down at the finger on her chest. She gulps down the last of the whiskey and places the glass on the nearby table firmly, nods mutely, and takes Caitlyn’s hand.

They slip out of the ballroom and make their way through the hallways of the library to a room with a fancy engraved font above the doorway. The Cassandra Kiramman room.

“Whoa! Is that your mom?”

Caitlyn immediately pulls her into the stacks and puts her finger against her lip. “Shh. We’re not supposed to be here.”

“Then why did you bring me here?”

Vi sounds suspicious, but her giant hand is pressed against the small of Caitlyn’s back, the bottom of her palm perched on the curve of Caitlyn’s ass. The warmth of it is irresistable. She feels branded through her dress.

“Listen,” Caitlyn says, and she feels possessed, deranged, “I want to let you know a couple of things. I’m quite taken with you. And I’m in an open relationship.”

Vi’s expression is clouded with lust and something more ambiguous, but her hand remains, thank god. “I don’t fuck women with girlfriends. I don’t like that they have girlfriends and the girlfriends don’t like me.”

“You sound very knowledgeable about the situation. It sounds like you do, in fact, fuck women with girlfriends.”

“This is a new rule. It’s one I haven’t had to enforce yet.”

Caitlyn doesn’t know what to do with her hands. After having placed her finger on Vi’s lips they rest against Vi’s chest, fists clenched. They open and close almost without her volition; she reaches out and pulls back. Her brow furrows, and she bites her lip. She is in pain and she looks it. Oh, she wants to give Vi the chance to do what she thinks is right. But oh, she wants Vi. She’s breathing very heavily when she asks, quietly, “Do you really plan to start now?”

The moment is liquid, golden. It blooms between them like a bulb, and then bursts. Her hands cradle the back of Vi’s head at the same time Vi’s free hand goes for the back of hers and their mouths meet hotly, roughly. Cait feels the hair at the base of her skull gather tightly as Vi pulls her in closer and she moans into Vi’s mouth, feeling her spine loosen. Vi bites her lip bruisingly and thrusts her tongue against it, Caitlyn pulls Vi’s face in tight and presses their mouths together desperately, and once her lip is free she licks into Vi’s mouth, finding her tongue and tussling there, pressing and flicking and tasting. She needs to be connected to her tongue. She needs an outlet for the force of her desire. She needs to be closer. She needs to live inside her mouth. She needs to drown there.

Vi uses her grip on Caitlyn’s hair to spin her around and maneuver her against the bookcase, slides the hand on her back all the way around her waist, gripping her tightly. Caitlyn can feel the bulge of her bicep pressing against her ribs. She feels enveloped and contained. She surrenders and surrenders.

The thing inside of her that has been thawing in Vi’s presence is thawed. It is hot, and wet. She wraps her arms around Vi’s back and feels her hands become claws, clutching helplessly at the tuxedo jacket, clinging to her, trying to get her closer somehow. When Vi takes her swollen lips away from hers and brings them to her exposed neck, she whimpers helplessly. Something else entirely is operating her. She has never felt so unrestrained.

It is a horrible shock when Vi presses a finger against her lips and takes a step back.

“Shh,” she says, and the look on her face is completely unreadable. “We’re not supposed to be here.”

Caitlyn feels heartbreakingly pathetic and is certain she looks it. If a fraction of the sheer need she feels is on her face then it is the most exposed she has ever been in her life. “Vi …”

Vi’s face is hauntingly dark and her breathing is heavy. Her other hand lets go of Caitlyn’s hair and she clasps the top of Caitlyn’s naked shoulder in a warm, calloused grip and holds her possessively, but at a distance. The two regard each other with glinting eyes for long seconds.

“I should get ready for my speech,” Vi says, and at the same time, Caitlyn says, “I’m sorry –”

“No, it’s fine.”

“No, it’s not fine. I’m sorry, I should have told you I have a girlfriend sooner, but –”

“It’s not a big deal. I just asked you to be my date, I didn’t ask you to date me.”

“No, but I didn’t really even give you a chance to make a decision, I know I’m throwing a lot of energy at you, I just –”

“It’s fine. Really.” Vi’s look is still dark but softer, more vulnerable.

The pain behind her eyes is clear and Caitlyn feels her stomach drop in shame. She was so carried away with how sure she felt about her desire for the first time in her life that she just took what she wanted without thinking.

Just like a Piltie.

Caitlyn feels herself wanting to explain – I was telling the truth, I am quite taken with you, I might be kind of obsessed with you, I’ve never felt this way before, I don’t think I’m happy in my relationship, I’m desperate to know what it feels like to get fucked by you and I would throw my entire life away to find out –

I, I, me, me me. It feels like more of the same. She wants to explain until Vi opens up to her again. There’s nothing she can say that will give her her agency back.

Instead she says quietly, “I’m not proud of how I handled this. I understand if you don’t feel like you can trust me. But can we talk about it later? Besides the fact that I still have this assignment … I’d really like to get to know you.”

Vi’s hand still rests on her shoulder as she takes that in and seems to evaluate it. She looks at Caitlyn’s face and must notice how pained her expression is. Eventually she nods, and gives Caitlyn’s shoulder a squeeze before taking her hand away. “Yeah,” she says, a little wonderingly. “Yeah, okay. We can talk later.” She smiles with a mixture of gentleness and bravado and says, “First I gotta make this money.”

The combination is so winsome that Caitlyn feels her stomach clench.

She thinks: I would throw my entire life away to find out.

*****

By the time she and Vi are parked in front of her and Maddie’s apartment, Caitlyn feels ashamed of acting unprofessionally and unethically, and also extremely wet in a way that feels mostly sad. But she also feels some relief that the fever of lust has subsided, giving her a little more room to think thoughts and make less selfish decisions.

“It’s clear that there’s something going on between us.”

Caitlyn looks at her helplessly. “Yes,” she says quietly, despite every reason not to.

“And you have a girlfriend, and you can’t bring me home.”

“Yes,” she agrees miserably, hating it.

“And I don’t want to date a girl with a girlfriend. So I don’t want to bring you home.”

Caitlyn waits, hoping there is a statement coming next.

“But you still need to interview me and the people in my organization.”

“Yes.”

Vi turns towards her and slouches back against the driver’s side door, arms crossed, regarding her intently. She feels Vi’s eyes upon her own, then her mouth, then her tits, her tight little waist, her leg emerging from the slit in her gown, then back up. It is not the gaze of someone not interested in her, despite everything she’s done so far. So she waits and hopes.

“Come by my office tomorrow around eight,” Vi says finally, and Caitlyn sighs in satisfaction. She hadn’t realized she was holding her breath. “Wear a skirt you can spread your legs in. Tell your girlfriend whatever you want.”

Caitlyn feels the blood rush to her face and she starts throbbing. Suddenly the wetness isn’t so sad after all. But the thoughts go away again, and there’s only one word on her tongue. She nods, slowly at first, and then more emphatically. “Yes,” she says, defenselessly. “Yes.”

They remain in the car for a moment, feeling the charge of it between them, before Vi turns her body back to the wheel. “Thank you for being my date tonight,” she says. “I was right; you did look good doing it.”

“Thank you,” Caitlyn says thickly, feeling unworthy of her generosity. Her brain is not getting enough blood to form better words. “Thank you. I’ll see you tomorrow at eight.”

She gathers herself and gets out of the car, and walks to the door in a haze, without looking back. She doesn’t want to press her luck; she doesn’t think she could endure another rejection, but she knows she’d deserve it. After she closes the door behind her, she grimaces and sags against it, sighing.

It is a couple of minutes of her standing there and taking deep breaths before she gives Maddie a thought at all.

Chapter Text

What could I do. I ran. I lived two small blocks and one large city block away from her so I began a daily run of going north three blocks from my apartment and then heading about two big city blocks east of her down to avenue C and then I guess up to Houston and then turning around and doing it again. I did it until I achieved the three miles I craved (she loved my legs, she had told me once) creating kind of a heat pattern like my love I imagined a red sun burning the whole area and scorching on it a shape that was me circling her building, wild without her, craving her love and having no other powers than to become this allegory, a shape in the neighborhood that she could almost hear, a burning rumbling sound like my heart thumping at hers for ever more.

Eileen Myles, On the Excruciating Pain of Waiting for Love

*****

Caitlyn and Maddie made enough sense as a couple given Caitlyn’s lackluster experiences and her comfort with feeling in control of the relationship dynamic. It was the moving in together that was clearly a misguided attempt at some moralistic economic restraint. She and Maddie were living off of her paycheck at the paper and Maddie’s paycheck as an enforcer and it made sense to share an apartment on paper, if that were truly her income, but she was a literal heiress who had a trust fund she didn’t use because of an argument with her mother in her senior year of college that left her feeling so self-righteous they hadn’t spoken for a year.

She felt it was important to know how to live as an average person and avoid conspicuous excess for the sake of it.

And her mother felt that she was living in a fantasy meant to alleviate her guilt about her privilege without doing anything truly meaningful with it.

When they finally spoke again her mother had been to therapy and she apologized for her love language of judgments and rigid expectations, but she also couldn’t let them go. And worse, Caitlyn knew she had a point, at least about the money thing, but she wasn’t ready to step into her mother’s role as a philanthropist and she still didn’t see a role for herself that made any more sense than beat journalism, even though she knew she was unfulfilled professionally.

To say nothing of personally.

Caitlyn kicks out of her heels and pulls up her gown to go up the stairs to her apartment and she thinks this must be how Cinderella felt after midnight. To go from kissing Vi to having to figure out how to talk about it with Maddie was the ultimate letdown. What was the right amount to tell her? It felt like sharing a special secret against her will, like telling Maddie would spoil it for her somehow. How could she possibly bring up this topic as not at all up for debate and not completely explode her relationship?

She didn’t even care if it exploded her relationship, she just wasn’t in the mood to do it tonight.

“So? Was it a date date?”

Maddie had truly seemed to be happy for her to have this opportunity to explore when she had informed her that the boxer she was covering on assignment had asked her to be her date to the fundraiser gala, which Caitlyn found a little perplexing just on a hubris level. Was Maddie truly not intimidated by a beefed out boxer covered in tattoos and scars? Was she that secure in her sex appeal and her relationship with Caitlyn?

That would be deluded.

Was she seeing someone on her own without telling Caitlyn?

Would Caitlyn even care if that were the case right now?

“It was a date,” Caitlyn informs her, dropping her shoes by the door. “But she told me she’s not interested in girls with girlfriends.”

Tell your girlfriend whatever you want.

It was technically the truth.

“Oh,” Maddie says, sounding disappointed for her. “Well, better luck next time. Did you have fun, at least?”

“I did, actually,” Caitlyn says. “I’ll have to head back out tomorrow, there’s still a lot of work to do for the assignment.”

“Oh?” Maddie says, approaching her for a hug and resting her head on her bosom. “You work too hard.”

Caitlyn has to fight not to grit her teeth at the contact. “No, it’s good actually. It’s a window into the people of Zaun that will help inform all of my work. I was annoyed at first but it seems I’ll get a lot out of it.”

Maddie beams up at her contently. “Good,” she says. “I’m happy you’re getting what you need.”

Caitlyn wraps her arms around her just to get a little bit of distance from her eyes. We did kiss, she thinks about saying. And then the thought follows: and I felt a level of desire I’ve never felt ever in my life. And it’s clear to me now I’ll do whatever it takes to feel it again.

She decides to say nothing more for now.

************

From the comment ‘wear a skirt you can spread your legs in’ she presumes she is getting fucked. She hopes she is getting fucked, but at least she is displaying herself for the other woman’s pleasure. Either way she is dressing to be a sexual object. Surely she isn’t boxing or something, that would be a huge disappointment.

What is the proper outfit to wear to get fucked at boxing gym that also maintains plausible deniability when she walks past her girlfriend who she does not want to tell just yet that she is getting fucked? She decides on a black pleated midi skirt, a sleeveless cream top and a black leather jacket. The leather jacket a nod to the toughness of the setting and also a way to dress down. A high-heeled black boot that stacks her ass up just so.

A black g-string. No bra.

Maddie tells her have a nice night, asks her when she’ll be back and she says maybe eleven but she’s not sure, and god she does not care.

When she gets to the gym she knows she’s overly dressed again but at least this time she knows she’s meeting the woman who’s made her the wettest she’s ever been in her life and that is the occasion she’s dressed for. Hair in a cunty ponytail with strands flowing down the side of her face. She takes a deep breath before she knocks.

When Vi meets her at the door she looks her up and down and grins.

“Hi Cupcake,” she says. “Come on in.”

Caitlyn follows her in and looks around. “Just us?”

“That’s right,” Vi says, walking back towards the back of the gym. Caitlyn follows, staring at Vi’s back and shoulders rippling beneath her tank top, the sweat glistening on the back of her neck. “Come into my office.”

In the office there is a big old wooden desk and an equally old rolling chair, filing cabinets, a wall calendar of women boxers of history. There’s two arm chairs facing the desk and then a little sofa and a coffee table facing away. This is where Vi sits and gestures for Caitlyn to join her.

“You have questions for me?”

Did she? Every thought of professionalism has been pretty much out the window all day. Her clit is hard and her panties are soaked. She shifts on the couch.

“That depends,” she says carefully. “What did you have in mind when you asked me to come by? Am I here to do my job or …” She swallows, and screws up her courage. “Am I here to do my job, or spread my legs?”

Vi grunts. She takes in a deep breath and seems to contemplate. “That depends,” she responds eventually. “Which would you prefer?”

Caitlyn’s heart is pounding. She thinks of that first night, imagining her tongue in the dip of the scar on Vi’s lip in the darkness of night next to Maddie, wondrously wet. She thinks of their bruising kisses in the library and how tightly Vi held her in the circle of her arm as she buried her fist in the nape of her neck. She looks at her now, gazing at her levelly with the promise of a threat held barely at bay in her eyes.

All she has to do is ask.

She keeps her gaze on Vi’s, traces an arc on the floor with the tip of her boot, and spreads her legs.

Her face blazes hotly and she feels the challenge on it, setting her jaw and biting her lip.

Vi grunts again, smug. She looks self-satisfied. A crooked smile blooms across her face, but there is a hint of sweetness there too. She looks at Caitlyn, considering, and rolls out each shoulder as she thinks. Eventually she nods.

“I want you to do exactly as I say.”

“I will.”

“Go stand in front of the desk.”

Caitlyn walks over to the desk and turns to face Vi. Vi follows her and grabs her by the hips and spins her around so that she is facing the desk and the wall behind it.

“Bend over.”

Caitlyn folds over her desk, elbows down. The boxer leans behind her and grabs her wrists, sliding her hands and elbows across the desk. “Hold the edge,” she commands, and Caitlyn wraps her long fingers around it and grips tight.

“Good girl,” Vi murmurs approvingly, stands, and Caitlyn breathes a hollow breath. She is compliant, waiting longingly for however Vi chooses to manipulate her. She feels Vi’s hips press into her through her skirt, feels the heavy weight of Vi’s hands through the fabric as they graze over her ass and down her legs. They slip beneath the skirt and find the naked flesh beneath. She sighs as Vi’s rough palms scrape against her soft skin, leaving gooseflesh behind, and gasps when her hands come up to explore her ass.

“Damn,” Vi says in a soft groan, wonderingly, stroking and caressing. She hooks her thumbs into the waistband of Caitlyn’s panties. Caitlyn feels the warmth of her, feels her admiration through the precision of her hands, feels her get a firm grasp on her g-string.

“Is this what you want?”

Caitlyn doesn’t risk looking back at her as she nods her assent, whispering. “Yes.”

She feels her panties unpeel, soaked, and then fall down her legs to her feet.

She wouldn’t have been this wet since yesterday.

Vi grabs each of Caitlyn’s ankles and lifts each foot out from her underwear, intentionally places each foot back down. She forces a leg between Caitlyn’s and kicks her feet out against the desk legs, one by one. It is a shock each time the weight goes out from under her. Vi spreads her long legs wide with her feet, and her stomach and chest sink into the desk. Now her ass is exactly at Vi’s hip level. She turns her head to the side and her face presses against the wood.

Vi gathers Caitlyn’s skirt and flips it up over her back, revealing her drenched pussy, her glistening thighs. Caitlyn feels gloriously raw and exposed, hungering. Vi brings a big rough hand to her ass, squeezing possessively, and makes an appreciative noise. Presses in closer to her pussy with a firm broad thumb, kneading, grunting. She brings the pad of her thumb over Caitlyn’s soaking seam. As she begins to press into it lightly, Caitlyn’s fingers grip the desk tighter.

“Because you used me to feel good,” Vi murmurs in a low tone, “I am going to use you to feel good.”

A wave of hypnotic desire washes over her and Caitlyn feels scooped out. She feels the coolness of the wood against her face and neck, the stretch in her hamstrings and adductors. She feels the soothing weight of her surrender in every limb.

There is a pause where maybe Vi hears herself from outside of herself. “Is that okay?” she adds.

“Yes,” Caitlyn responds immediately, breathless. “Yes, I want you to.”

Vi drops her shorts and steps out of them. She grabs Caitlyn’s hips proprietarily and brings herself into Caitlyn’s exposed wetness, feeling into her, docking. She thrusts a little, little thrusts where she wets her clit inside of her. She grunts again appreciatively like at a good meal, pleased. Caitlyn feels her coarse hair and her wetness, the pressure and warmth of her, her solidness and sturdiness, and exhales gratefully.

Vi presses and thrusts into Caitlyn’s hole, grinding, wet humping her. Enveloping herself with Caitlyn’s warmth and slickness. And then Vi folds over at the waist and envelops her in her firm muscular body, wrapping both arms around her waist and pulling her into her chest, totally constricting and enveloping her as she thrusts. Caitlyn squirms and sighs, delightedly. “Mmm,” she groans happily. “Mm.”

She can feel Vi’s face smear against her back as she holds her close as she fucks her, wetness start to gather there as they sweat against each other. Vi kisses her back, between her shoulder blades. Caitlyn presses back into her, grinding onto her, desperate to be close. Soon Vi takes one hand away and slips it down between them, pressing her knuckles into Caitlyn’s slit, swiping her slick and gathering it in her hand. She anchors her hand and starts to rub herself as she squeezes Caitlyn’s waist tight in her other arm, humping into her own hand into Caitlyn’s cunt.

Caitlyn feels the back of Vi’s hand make circles inside her, but this is not for her. She is a toy that Vi is using to get herself off.

That thought drives her crazy, and she vows to be the best toy she can, arching her back and presenting, being good for her. She thinks, use me. Play with me. Let me make you feel good. She wants to say it but she can’t let it out. They hardly know each other. It doesn’t feel true but technically it is.

Vi lets out little hums in stuttering triplets that catch with each exhale, promising little whines. Caitlyn gnashes her teeth and whines too, wanting her to come against her ass so badly that the weight of her desire feels like it’s sinking her through the desk into the underworld.

Caitlyn can feel Vi tensing and getting close and that brings her close too, as Vi strokes herself and seems to find just the spot, just the rhythm, just the certain presence of mind and body that feels like she’s inside of Caitlyn and then bucks hard. Vi is riding her hand pressed into Caitlyn’s ass and thighs, thrusting against it over and over while she comes and comes, while Caitlyn feels her empty into her with every jerk of her hips.

She is unbelievably happy.

Vi leisurely strokes herself, sighing as she comes down. She takes her hand away and steps closer to press into her, places the back of her glistening hand on Caitlyn’s flushed face for a moment. She strokes her hair away from her temple, strokes her cheek. She runs her coarse hand down Caitlyn’s smooth back, pets her and pets her until both their breathing comes a little softer. Caitlyn, with her head still pressed into the desk, looks back at Vi, and smiles.

Vi’s smile back is big and open, blissed.

And then she says: “All right Kiramman, pull your panties up and I’ll see you tomorrow.”

**********************

She leaves unkissed, somehow even hornier than before.

When she gets topside, she drives immediately to the first parking garage she sees, navigates to the very top deck where she is the only person around, parks her car, and touches herself. She is ruinously wet, sticky from her slick and Vi’s, and she can smell her own want. It descends on her syrupy, thick and heavy, and leaves her in a haze. She has made herself even more aroused from smelling how hungry she is, from how badly she needs to be fucked. She rubs herself in efficient circles and comes shockingly hard and fast, it drops on her like a hammer and she sputters, shuddering and jerking in her seat, the car rocking back and forth in the parking spot. She arches up in the driver’s seat and effortlessly slides her middle two fingers inside her eager pussy as the orgasm ebbs, fucks herself into a second orgasm right on the heels of the first, and groans screamingly. Why not. She needs this. She calls out Vi’s name, curses. “Fuck!” she gasps, sweating, her face red and hot. “Fuck, Vi!” She wraps her other arm around her own shoulder, leans into her own hand and rocks against it. “Fuck,” she says unbelievingly, shocked by how hard she’s just come. “Fuck.”

As she slumps and leans forward the car horn lets out a plaintive little beep.

When she’s finished she checks her hair in the rear view mirror, uses the hand sanitizer in the glove compartment, and puts her seatbelt on before she drives back down towards home.

****************

When Mel asks her how the assignment is going she tries to hedge her response, but the fact that she has absolutely nothing to offer combined with the bags under her eyes clues Mel in right away.

“Oh my God, you’re fucking the subject.”

Caitlyn sits stock upright, awkwardly. Opens and closes her mouth. Mel gives her an aggressive look.

“Okay, okay! I am fucking the subject.”

Mel gets a little sparkle in her eyes and leans back. Could she possibly be … pleased? “I mean, I’ve seen the subject. Well done on fucking the subject,” she says, evidently meaning it. “What about Maddie?”

“We’re in an open relationship. It was her idea.”

“Oh my God, you are? It was?”

Caitlyn wrinkles her nose. “I know. It doesn’t make any sense to me either. But Vi doesn’t want to date me because of it.”

“Do you want to date her?”

Caitlyn has some idea of how pathetic the look that crosses her face must appear because Mel’s eyebrows shoot right up and she breathes out sympathetically.

“Oh, Caitlyn. You’re down so bad,” Mel says softly, and it sounds like a diagnosis.

“She fucked me in her office last night,” Caitlyn confesses, whispering.

Mel is delighted. She leans in.

“She bent me over the desk and spread my legs and pulled my skirt up and used me to get herself off.”

Mel lets out a whistle and fans herself with her hand. “Maddie’s not doing that, I fear.”

Caitlyn says, darkly, “I can’t spare Maddie a single thought.”

Mel shakes her head. “No. That just never made sense to me.”

“It did for a little while. At a certain point.” At Mel’s incredulous look, she folds. “No. I suppose not.”

“So what are you going to do?”

“I don’t know! I met her two days ago, what is there even to do? Any move I make I look completely insane.”

Mel regards her intently, with that slightly supercilious look she sometimes gets when she is trying to manipulate Caitlyn into doing what is clearly best for her. “You’re a lesbian, Caitlyn Kiramman,” she declares stridently. “Lock in.”

*****

She calls Jayce on her way out of the office. “Listen,” she says. “If I needed a place to stay, could you put me up for a few nights?”

“Of course, but … is there something going on, Sprout?”

“I may have met someone. Someone else. Someone new.”

“Well, have you met someone or not?”

“No, well, yes, I have met someone, but she doesn’t want to date a girl with a girlfriend. And I don’t think I want to be a girl with a girlfriend anymore. Or, not this girlfriend. Not the one I have. I don’t want to have the one I have.”

“Whoa, hey. Are you okay? This sounds like a lot.”

“It is. It feels very intense! But I want it very badly. And it feels surprisingly good to want something so badly. It is the first time in a while. It is maybe the first time.”

“So you’re moving out? You can’t just stay at your mom’s mansion?”

“I do not want my mother to catch one whiff of this. I do not need her opinion in my head. And you know she’s fond of Maddie.”

“I’ve never understood why,” Jayce grumbles.

“That’s what Mel said!” Caitlyn exclaims hotly. “Why did neither of you bother to say anything to me until now?”

“Cait, have you ever tried talking yourself out of something you want to do?”

She has to admit he has a point.

In this case of this most recent thing she wants to do, she hasn’t even tried.

“Love you,” he says. “Let me know if you need to come by. I’ll put clean sheets on the guest bed.”

“Love you too,” she says, sighing.

She has no idea what she thinks she’s doing.

*****************

She keeps finding she has to go on runs. She laces up her shoes and slips into form-fitting spandex and propels herself forward on the pavement and tries to imagine herself running through this haze of want, this fog that follows her and makes her stupid. If she could run fast enough she could move through it. If she could run hard enough she could burn it off. Maybe she could sober up and make a single rational decision that felt like it came from a place of intention.

She tries to work, which is absurd, because it means researching Vi and thinking of questions to ask Vi and watching videos of Vi in the ring, stalking around menacingly and detonating brutal combinations of punches into other women’s faces. It means learning about the women that Vi has coached and supported after their incarceration, her great big stupid hands and her great big stupid heart.

She stops by the gym during the day with people there to interview and also act as witnesses, some kind of accountability so she can actually do her job and not simply yearn for this woman. She talks to a woman named Gert who tells her how Vi has been there for her, taught her about what it means to fight and how it feels to know she can fight, not just for herself but her loved ones. What it means to fight as a person from the undercity, someone who is forced to fight in order to have a life worth living. What it means to have the seat of your power rest in your physical body, the vulnerability of that, but also the ecstasy of it.

She thinks of Vi in prison and her heartache leaks into her stomach and she feels sick. She thinks about the fact that she’s dating a cop, and has been dating a cop for over two years. A cop she doesn’t think she likes, and who apparently none of her friends have ever liked. Where has Caitlyn been this whole time? Seemingly not in her own body!

Oh, but she is never not there now. She is noticing and noticing. There are the two heats: the one for soft Vi and the one for hard Vi. The gentle and kind and vulnerable Vi makes Caitlyn ache, want to take care of her, hold her in her arms and stroke her cheek, comfort her. The hard Vi makes her want to yield and surrender, draw her out and seduce her and stoke her power. There is the squeeze on her heart of the crush and the clench in her stomach of lust. She wants her heart, her hands, her cunt.

She is reduced to a thing that wants Vi.

That evening Vi bends her over the desk and fucks her with the strap. That's a good girl, can you be a good girl for me? That's my girl, that’s my tight little pussy, that’s right. What a good girl you’re being. Can you take more? Can you show me how good you can be? Show me what a good girl you can be, okay Cupcake? Make me proud, be a good girl and let me fill you up all the way. I want to make you feel full. Are you my good girl? You make me so proud, I'm going to fill you up now, okay? You make me so happy. I'm so happy with you. You’re such a good girl.

Caitlyn comes sputtering, weeping. She is heaving, reckless. There is no question of being shy now. Thank you, she says uselessly, crying. Thank you. It's so good, she groans, guttural, shuddering. You’re so good. You’re so good. Thank you, she says prayerfully. Thank you.

Vi pulls out and Caitlyn’s cream spills out of her hole, gathers cradled in her lips, perched atop her spread legs. Vi admires it as Caitlyn remains still, hands still gripping the desk obediently. Her hips are bruised and sore from the night before and it feels delicious and grounding. Vi bends to one knee and brings her tongue forward, scooping her mess into her mouth, carrying it on her tongue, and then she rounds the desk and bends down on one knee, face to face with Caitlyn.

Her gaze is surprisingly soft, and Caitlyn feels completely dumb gazing back at her, doe-eyed and yielding. She reaches out and strokes Caitlyn’s cheek and Caitlyn feels a cascade of bliss pour through her before Vi leans forward and softly kisses her with a mouthful of her own fucked pussy.

It is the first time Vi has kissed her since the library.

She is loose-limbed, fucked absolutely stupid, face wet with tears and spit and sweat. Her come is thick and salty in their mouths and Vi’s tongue is reverent and sweet. It would almost be a moment to recover if it didn’t feel so narcotic, if she hadn’t been craving a kiss just as bad as a fuck. Prone and malleable, Caitlyn presses forward intently into Vi’s mouth. They kiss sensually until it is gone. Vi pulls back, still holding her face in her hand, and presses a benevolent kiss to her cheek.

This hollows her out completely.

Vi stands up and steps in front of her face.

Do you want to taste me?

Helplessly. Yes.

She steps closer, twines her fingers into the front of Caitlyn’s hair, and pushes her clit into Caitlyn’s mouth. Caitlin licks her avidly, taking her hardness between her soft lips and closing on it, lapping at it, pressing her warm tongue against her, sighing into her, murmuring. She’s gone, she’s tranced out servicing this woman, drooling, her face glistening and dripping. She can feel a ribbon of slick dangling out of her off the other side of the desk as she devours this woman. Very soon Vi is gasping rhythmically, over and over again, a strained noise that keeps gently escalating until she’s crying out. “Oh!” she says, and it sounds ripped from her, rough. “Oh!” she says and she sounds like she’s been hit, like she’s taking damage. “Cait,” she says urgently, between heaving breaths, like she needs her to know a secret. “Cait!” she cries out sharply, desperate, and smothers Caitlyn’s face as she comes, grips her hair in her clenched fist, wriggling her hips back and forth into her mouth, whining and whimpering.

Caitlyn is still gently tending Vi’s comedown with her mouth when she realizes what she has called her, and it makes her blush. Like that is somehow more intimate than what her tongue is doing.

It makes her think she has been thinking about her too.

*************

When she steps in the doorway of Jayce’s apartment he steps back, shocked.

“Holy shit, Caitlyn. You look like you’ve been to war.”

“Oh, spare me,” she says, but he’s right. Her hair is askew and sticky, her makeup smeared, her eyes glassy and her clothes wrinkled. He goes straight to the linen closet and hands her a towel.

“Go take a shower,” he says firmly. “We can catch up when you’re finished.”

In the shower she tastes layers of sweat, tears, and come, and acknowledges that he was correct.

It is very good she is not staying at her mother’s.

When she emerges from the shower in the bathrobe Jayce left out for her he is drinking a glass of wine in the kitchen. She joins him at the island and he pours her one too.

“Cheers. So, this new woman you’re seeing.” He smiles at her conspiratorially. “She’s a good lay?”

For some reason this makes her want to cry. Before she can figure out why, she starts laughing hysterically. It comes in waves, and each time one crashes, a fresh one arises. Jayce’s brows shoot up in concern before he stands up and moves to embrace her, squeezing her shoulders and holding her comfortingly.

In the warmth of his embrace the tears start to come.

“Oh Sprout,” he says kindly. “What’s going on?”

For the second time tonight Caitlyn is crying. “I have no idea what I’m doing,” she confesses bitterly, and sobs. “I have no idea what I’m doing and I don’t know what to do.”

“Okay, okay. It’s okay. You’re okay, Cait. It’s okay. Why don’t you start from the beginning and catch me up?”

She sniffs and the sobs slowly abate and she comes back to herself. He holds her chin and looks her encouragingly in the eye before he drops his hand and resumes his seat. She heaves a big sigh, takes a long swig of wine, and begins.

“I don’t know if I told you that Maddie suggested we open our relationship.”

Jayce nearly spits out his wine. “Maddie did? I’m sorry, but what could she possibly – what could she possibly want that she can’t get from you? Cait, look at you.”

“I know,” Caitlyn says darkly. “But I don’t know. And I don’t care! It afforded me opportunities I wanted. So we went forward with it. And then I was assigned a profile on this woman. She’s a boxer and community activist. And she’s gorgeous and kind and powerful and charming.”

“I bet,” Jayce says.

“She asked me to be her date to a fundraiser gala a patron of hers was throwing and she was so good and so handsome and so into me that I lost control of myself completely. I dragged her off and made out with her in private, and it was so, so good, Jayce. It’s never been like that before. I’ve never wanted and been wanted by anyone like that before. It felt like we were at risk of destroying each other. It felt so good it felt dangerous. I felt so out of control and I loved it.”

Jayce is listening intently, his brows raised. “Okay,” he says, nodding. “And then what happened?”

“But she had just told me she didn’t want to be with a girl with a girlfriend, and I pressed her anyway! I was so caught up and I wanted her so badly, and it was so clear how badly she wanted me, I felt like I was on drugs. And then it wasn’t even a minute before she stopped me, and I felt awful. I apologized, and she was so understanding … ugh.” She pinches the bridge of her nose. “When we talked in her car she told me to come by her office the next day after hours and then …” She spreads her hands and shrugs, unsure how much to share. “So that was two days ago. I went by yesterday. And I went by today.”

“To do your work?”

“No.” Caitlyn shakes her head. “A little today, but no.”

Jayce holds his wine glass and regards her patiently.

“It’s fucking,” Caitlyn says raggedly. “It’s just fucking. She bends me over her desk and tells me what to do and takes me how she wants and I love it. I am useless for anything else. I can hardly figure out how to focus enough to do my job, and right now my job is thinking about her! I feel so out of control that I’m scared, Jayce. I feel like the entire focus of my life is narrowed down to these encounters and she doesn’t even want to date me.” She sighs. “I feel so … desperate.”

He regards her intently, thoughtfully, compassionately. He doesn’t make her feel ridiculous or pathetic. “This sounds tough,” he says warmly. “It sounds really scary. I get it. Sometimes … it is so difficult to want something. But sometimes, you know, we do get it.” He smiles, more impishly. “You clearly got it before you came over.”

Caitlyn laughs begrudgingly. “I did. I did, and it felt like a religious experience.”

Jayce raises his glass and bows his head. “Well, that’s ecstasy for you. A lot of the time, it’s absolutely terrifying.”

Caitlyn pauses and considers this while she drinks her wine.

“Are you sure she doesn’t want to date you?”

“She said doesn’t want to date girls with girlfriends.”

“How long are you going to be a girl with a girlfriend?”

“As briefly as possible,” Caitlyn says dryly. “But even so. Isn’t it almost worse to tell someone you met two days ago that you’ve decided you want to be with them?”

Jayce cocks his head, raises his brow, takes a deep breath. “Caitlyn,” he says carefully. “With all due respect. Isn’t that what you people are known for?”

Chapter Text

Eros once again limb-loosener whirls me
sweetbitter, impossible to fight off, creature stealing up
Sappho, fragment 130

*****

The only logical move is to break up with Maddie, but when Caitlyn comes home the next morning she finds that Maddie has been called in for an overnight shift and doesn’t even have the decency to be around to be aware that she spent the night somewhere else without telling her.

She’ll have to start a fight from scratch, then.

She changes into clean clothes, watching herself in her apartment from outside herself, seeing this little life she has made from the perspective of this new person she became three days ago. She had settled. That is the word. It is clear now. This bland cookie cutter apartment and her bland enforcer girlfriend. How in the world did this happen to her? Had she truly been so hard up for someone to be nice and consistent to her that she had just … acquiesced?

Had her discomfort with her privilege made her so self-denying that she had refused to take anything for herself?

That is what has allowed this thing to take hold of her life completely.

This thing. This … want.

There is no question of settling now.

She calls her mother.

********

They meet at the upscale cafe her mother favors where the staff is accustomed to giving her some semblance of privacy and they bring out an entire french press which Caitlyn finds herself going back to over and over again. This makes the conversation very sweaty.

“Darling,” Cassandra says, lifting her cup up from the saucer and regarding her intently. “To what do I owe the pleasure?”

Caitlyn realizes she is very accustomed to being looked at appraisingly lately, and she is unshaken by it. She has put on a posh turtleneck with a little structured jacket and she feels armored and secure.

This is what it feels like having a backbone.

But her mother’s expression is a bit different from the one she is accustomed to. It is less judgmental and more searching. Is she … curious?

To what does she owe the pleasure? I’m having a bit of a crisis? I think I’m falling in love?

Too vulnerable.

“I need to move out,” Caitlyn says briskly.

“Oh,” Cassandra responds, surprised. She pauses, and she is clearly trying to find a way to express her thoughts in a way that Caitlyn won’t take offense to, but doesn’t know how.

Caitlyn spares her. “I’m breaking up with Maddie. I’m sorry. I know you always liked her.”

Cassandra raises an eyebrow archly, seemingly despite herself. “Did I?”

“Didn’t you?”

“I … well I was glad you found someone, dear. It seemed like for a moment there you were just seeking temporary arrangements.”

Caitlyn has no idea how to respond to this. The idea that her mother has an impression of her sex life is unwelcome. But it is not an unfair assessment.

Caitlyn relents a bit. “I think … perhaps I just haven’t been clear on what it is that I wanted.”

There is a pause between them where they both sip from their cups, trying to find their bearings in what is spoken and unspoken between them.

It is a clear reflection of how hard her mother has been trying when she asks this question: “Caitlyn … are you quite alright? What’s going on?”

Caitlyn puts her cup down, lets out a long sigh, and tries to unburden herself. “Mother, I’ve met someone.”

“Oh!” she replies, surprised. And then, “Oh?” Intrigued. And then: “Why do you sound so sad, then?”

Caitlyn laughs humorlessly, a little reprise of her laughter at Jayce’s, and then a pained expression lands and stays. “Oh Mother,” she says bleakly. “I’ve made such a mess of things.” She swallows and grimaces, because the next sentence is so horrible to have to say to her mother. “Maddie and I opened our relationship –”

“You what?”

Yes. Here is the Cassandra she’s been waiting for. She can’t even blame her.

“It was her idea –”

“It was her idea,” her mother repeats starkly. She can’t restrain herself: “Caitlyn, you’re a Kiramman.” This sentence, possibly her favorite, can mean a lot of things, but this time it means the same thing Jayce meant when he nearly spit out his wine.

What could she possibly want that Caitlyn didn’t have to offer?

“– and then I met someone right away on assignment. And I got carried away and threw myself at her.”

Cassandra’s brow is pinched in both compassion and the effort it takes to say nothing.

“I want her. And she does not want a girl with a girlfriend. And I do not want my current girlfriend. So.” She spreads her hands on the table. “I need to break up with Maddie immediately. And I need to find a new place to live.”

“You know you can always stay with us, darling.”

Caitlyn flashes back to tasting come, sweat, and tears in Jayce’s shower.

“I think it’s best for me to stay with Jayce for the time being,” she says. “But I think I’m also ready to start figuring out what’s next for me. Not just a new place to live, but … everything. Money. Work.” She sighs, pauses, and lets herself say it. “Love.”

“Just say the word.”

“What?”

“You are asking for your trust fund, aren’t you? It’s been accumulating for you. Everything you haven’t touched since you graduated college is in an account, waiting for you. It’s simply a matter of giving you the routing number.”

Caitlyn looks at her mother, who looks back at her with an expression of self-satisfaction and just a hint of challenge that she recognizes from her own face.

She blinks slowly. “I would like that, please.”

“Of course.” Her mother puts her cup down and sits fully upright, places her one hand on top of the other on the starched white tablecloth, and regards her purposefully.

“So, what about this new girl?”

Caitlyn smiles ruefully and looks down. “I appreciate your interest, Mother. Let me see if she’ll date me first.”

The look on Cassandra’s face makes it clear that she finds any other possibility absurd.

*****

After she goes to the gym and does her job a little bit as a treat.

Vi smiles very big to see her, which is great news because last time they saw each other she was face down bent over her desk sloppily eating her out while her hand was buried in her hair, and any standoffishness whatsoever would have killed her.

Caitlyn’s smile back is also very big, and if anyone here is paying any attention it is very clear to see that there is something going on between them.

And of course she feels herself get very wet right away, and resigns herself to an afternoon of it.

“I appreciate you being so generous with your time, Vi,” she says archly, and Vi grins at her.

“It’s actually short for Violet. You can call me that if you like. And it’s totally my pleasure, Ms. Kiramman. What is it I can help you with today?”

Caitlyn loves knowing this.

In order to get anything actually done they are on the floor. There are women sparring and weight training. Caitlyn notices Gert and some girls from the neighborhood giggling and showing each other memes on their phones. There’s a massive, dour woman with a blunt stacked bob, shouting commands at the women sparring in the ring, and a crew of tough-looking women watching them. This is clearly the neighborhood hangout for a certain kind of scrappy girl or woman who has seen a lot – a kind of person who wouldn’t usually have a place to go, who might be pretty used to being alone.

“I have a few questions for you about yourself and the work that you’re doing here, and a little about your upcoming match.”

There is a lovely sincerity on her face when she asks, “Do I still get to learn a little about you?”

Caitlin feels a little catch in her chest when she realizes she is not just asking to tease. She still wants to know.

If she used the shield of professionalism now it would only be a weapon against Vi. She certainly hasn’t been professional up until now.

“Okay,” she says, somewhat against her better judgment. She doesn’t remember when she would have used it last anyway. She starts the recording and says, “But me first.”

“Shoot.”

“What do you feel comfortable touching on about your background?”

Vi’s expression grows a bit cloudy but she plays it off. “My background? A pretty typical Zaun upbringing. Tough, lots of fighting. Lost my parents young. Lost my guardian young. Got thrown in prison for some shit I didn’t do. That about covers it.”

“So where does the boxing gym come in?”

“Well, Sevika and I talked about it a lot in Stillwater.”

“Sevika?”

Vi gestures towards the ring at the hollering woman. “My coach. We knew each other from the neighborhood. Got a lot closer in Stillwater. We both lost people in the explosion that got pinned on us, so …” She shrugs. “When you keep losing family, you gotta keep finding it too.”

Caitlyn knows a pull quote when she hears one.

“So how’d you make it happen?”

“Sevika made a lot of it happen. But there was a lot of goodwill in the neighborhood for us … when we got out, this place was abandoned. People banded together to help us clean it out, and we got hand-me-downs from people in the neighborhood … at first it was just us taking turns beating the shit out of each other. And hell, we’d done that for free in Stillwater so … kinda felt good to have it to fall back on.”

Smiling, Caitlyn asks, “How’d you get to the point where you’re attending a fundraising gala in a tux?”

“Help.” Vi shrugs. “People got out and they heard we were here and they wanted some place to go so they started coming by. So we needed more shit. We started throwing fundraisers. Bake sales and potlucks, stuff like that. Gert threw a benefit show with her band … local businesses started donating. And then …” She shrugs again. “You know, when you’re a woman with a good cause sometimes men with money offer you some to look better. When it’s to help the women I care about, I don’t necessarily mind taking men’s money.”

“And your career?”

Vi’s expression shifts, and she’s wearing that self-satisfied look from when Caitlyn first met her. “I gotta be real with you, Cupcake,” she says, cracking her knuckles. “I fucking love fighting. Pure power and instinct, not a single thought in the brain. It’s like a vacation from the rest of my problems. In the ring, there’s just one kind of problem. Punch the other guy out first.” Smug, she says: “I’m good at solving that problem.”

“I look forward to seeing it.”

Now Vi is leaning against the counter where they sell wraps and gloves and merch, gazing back at her. “So,” she says. “Was that enough for a trade? My turn?”

“Your turn.”

What does Vi even know about her? That she’s a reporter from a rich family who is worryingly hot for her and has a girlfriend she can’t possibly care about? That she’s acted selfishly to have her way with her? That she’s a bit awkward and can be kind of a bitch?

“What makes you happy?”

Caitlyn steps back at the question and she feels the levity drain out of her a bit. The first thing that she notices is that she doesn’t know, and that she’s embarrassed by that. It’s definitely a question she should know the answer to.

And she likes that Vi asked it, even though it feels a bit uncomfortable.

And she thinks about Vi, and that makes her even more uncomfortable.

But soon enough a faraway look crosses her face. “I do like shooting,” she admits.

“Shooting?”

“Yes. Rifles in particular. It’s sort of my family pastime.”

Vi whistles. “Well aren’t you full of surprises.”

“It’s like you said about fighting. It’s one of the few places where I can manage to get out of my own way.”

“Well …” Vi laughs. “Let’s not get in a fight. Unless it’s very close up.”

“Deal,” Caitlyn says, and smiles. And because she can’t resist, she adds, “Up close, you seem to come out on top.”

Vi smirks. “You seem to like it that way.”

Now Caitlyn is blushing. She stops the recording.

She thinks, when you asked what made me happy, you were the first thing I thought of.

Instead, she asks shyly, “Will you be around later?”

The look that crosses Vi’s face is a little bit hard to read, but she nods. “Yeah. I will be.”

“Will you …” Caitlyn swallows. She can’t quite tell what is happening but it feels like she can’t stop herself from asking. “Will you be wanting company?”

Vi regards her with this complicated expression. There’s a wall there, but there’s also want, and something not unkind. Caitlyn’s hand does that thing again, where it reaches out for her, pulls back. She places it on the counter next to Vi’s hands.

Vi looks at it, and looks up at her face, and softens slightly. “Yeah,” she says. “Yeah, come by.”

************

“Vi?”

The arrangement between them is so vague. When Vi said come by later, it wasn’t clear when she meant, and even though the door was open it doesn’t feel like Cailtyn is supposed to be here. The lights are off except in the weight area, which is starkly lit with overhead bulbs. Vi sits at the bench, headphones on, muscle tank hanging off her shoulders, legs bouncing up and down frenetically. She is bursting with intensity. She slides back on the bench, squeezes her shoulder blades beneath her back, unracks the bar heavy with plates, and presses the weight up from her chest over and over, her entire body tight and arched, pushing from her heels, until she starts letting out ferocious little grunts, ripped from her chest. The last one, coming as the bar nearly bottoms out to failure and she trembles to raise it back up, is a full-blown roar, echoing in the empty gym.

She racks the bar and shoots up in her seat, shaking out and huffing.

This is when she sees Caitlyn, and the expression on her face is terrible.

Caitlyn stands absolutely still and waits.

Vi’s chest is heaving and she says nothing for a bit, regarding her with burning eyes. It feels like a very long time before she takes her headphones off, and Caitlyn feels very much like she is intruding. Like she is possibly in trouble.

She has never seen Vi like this before and she is frozen before her.

“How long have you been watching me?”

Caitlyn clears her throat, trying to find her bearings. She shakes her head. “Not long,” she says. “Just a set.”

“Mm.”

“Sorry to interrupt. I thought …”

The sentence unfurls and falls open between them. She doesn’t know how to finish it. She still is not sure if she’s here under some pretense to do her job, if that’s even an option in the evenings. It doesn’t seem like it.

She knows that isn’t what she wants, anyway.

Vi growls, “You thought you’d come by and get fucked by this brute.”

Caitlyn reels back, grimacing. The sentence contains enough truth that she doesn’t know where to start to refute how awful it makes her feel.

“Vi …”

Vi’s brows are furrowed and her chest is still heaving. She doesn’t say anything further. Caitlyn wrings her hands together in front of her, also clearly in pain.

“I’m sorry,” she says softly. “I can see why it might feel that way.”

Vi is staring at her, still seated, still panting. She blinks, and her gaze softens just a touch. “Come here?” she asks.

Caitlyn takes a deep breath and approaches her. It reminds her very much of approaching a cornered animal, and she moves very intentionally to the bench a few feet away from Vi and sits down stiffly.

There is this hurt between them again. Did Caitlyn do this? She seems to keep doing it.

She just sits there, and wants to soothe her, and does not know how.

Vi sits there, and keeps breathing, and something seems to play out behind her eyes. They remain glittering but her breathing slows, intentionally. Caitlyn watches her start to take deep breaths to calm down, and then blink. Soon, she turns to Caitlyn with a pained expression.

“You found me in the middle of having a moment,” she says.

Caitlyn nods. That seems true. She’s glad Vi doesn’t apologize. “Are you okay?” she asks.

Vi nods, a bit sheepishly. “Can I tell you something?”

God, yes. “Please.”

Now a little smile creeps across her face. “I took a huge dose of pre-workout and I’m crawling out of my skin a little bit.”

Caitlyn isn’t sure whether to laugh. That doesn’t seem like the whole story. “How’s that?”

“It feels like if I don’t keep moving I’m absolutely going to combust.”

“Is that it?”

“That’s part of it.”

They both sit there, Caitlyn not asking and Vi not telling her about the rest. Vi’s knee starts jumping up and down again, and Caitlyn stands up.

“Well, don’t let me keep you. I wouldn’t want to be responsible for you combusting.”

Vi’s face turns dark again, and she looks up at Caitlyn with a haunted expression. “Wait,” she says hoarsely, and Caitlyn is pinned to the spot.

She sees Vi’s jaw working, like there are so many different things she wants to say, and she is chewing through them. She doesn’t apologize, but she says, in a low voice:

“I like fucking you like a brute.”

Caitlyn feels a narcotic syrupy desire roll through her. It does not feel good, exactly.

She stands there silently as Vi looks up at her, and she is sure the hurt and want she feels are clearly legible on her face. She wants to say, you don’t have to fuck me like a brute. I am so sweet on you just the way you are. Please just give me one more day to break up with my girlfriend.

Instead, she whispers, almost despite herself, “I like it too.”

This time in the office she sits lengthwise on the desk and takes her top off and Vi pushes her on her back and roughly pulls her pants down and her limbs loosen completely, utterly yielding. Soon Vi is undressed, glistening and pumped from her workout, and Caitlyn hardly has time to take it in before Vi has the strap on and she’s grabbed her legs and hooked her knees over her shoulders. She slips into her with no preamble whatsoever, just taking what she wants. Caitlyn wants her to have it. The shock of it, the stretch of it, makes her whimper. Vi grabs the sides of the desk in her hands and uses the leverage to drive deep into her, looming over her and grimacing with effort. Already sweaty, she quickly starts dripping onto Caitlyn, fat hot beads falling from her face onto Caitlyn’s chest and stomach.

There is something in her expression, something animalistic, a thick haze over her eyes. The times before she has been so intentional, so controlled, and now there is some passion in her that seems to hurt her. Her eyes are rolled back into her head and she is fucking her so intently that a ribbon of drool spills out of her mouth, drizzling shapes over her belly. She is grunting and groaning, this deep low effortful noise that sounds pained.

She cannot possibly fuck her hard enough. She thrusts inside her like she is trying to demolish every barrier between them. This thing bubbles up in the sex between them that they have left no chance to approach in the daylight –

“Tell me you’re mine,” Vi demands urgently, cheeks red, teeth gritted, muscles coiled and rippling. She slides into Caitlyn roughly, her thighs and abs sticky and slapping against Caitlyn’s thighs and ass. She looks haunted like she did after the kiss in the library, just now on the floor, something vulnerable and dark at the helm. She looks like if she doesn’t get it she might cry.

Caitlyn is so, so happy to give it to her. “I’m yours,” she whines, as she is rocked back and forth on the desk. “I’m yours,” she purrs, and gathers the spit and sweat Vi has dripped onto her belly, and anoints herself with them. “I’m yours,” she moans, squeezing her own tits and arching her back and writhing rapturously, smearing herself in Vi’s fluids.

Something flashes in Vi’s eyes as they meet each other’s gaze, and then Vi curls her lip and proceeds to pound her hole so ferociously it is all she can do to stay on the desk.

Caitlyn is reduced to a desperate, pathetic mess. Her long helpless groan rhythmically raises in pitch each time Vi bottoms out inside of her, this hilariously unmusical sound that three days ago she would have assumed was too pornographic to be real. “I’m yours!” she cries out again, feeling how true it is, needing Vi to know. “I’m yours! I was made for you, Violet. I was made for you to fuck me. All of me is yours.”

Very soon she comes, screaming, shattering apart, groaning, a pile, a puddle, limp and pliant. It is terrible, it is almost too much. It hits her in wave after wave and she’s pummeled in the surf, she can’t get up, she’s knocked down again and again, seized and taken over. She’s completely conquered. She comes, and then immediately she comes again, tears streaming out of her eyes, slick spilling out of her pulsing cunt.

********

No friends. No co-workers. Don’t fall in love.

Check. Check. Whoops.

She needs to get out of this relationship yesterday.

*******

After she gets home she takes a 45 minute shower to emotionally prepare for confronting Maddie. Or she tries to emotionally prepare but instead she just thinks about Vi fucking her into complete oblivion and taking ownership of her in a buzzed out haze. She even starts to touch herself a little thinking about the look in her eyes before she laughs out loud at herself. She is absolutely useless. She doesn’t care about anything Maddie has to say. It’s time to get out of this mess and turn the page.

Maddie gets home from work and she assaults her at the door.

“Maddie, I can’t do this anymore.”

“What, the open relationship?”

“No, the relationship. It’s over.”

Maddie’s face cycles through a few repetitions of shock, hurt, confusion. She’s hardly even had a chance to put down her things. “Caitlyn? What are you saying?”

“We’re done. I don’t want to do this anymore. I appreciate what we’ve been to each other but it’s time to move on.”

It feels so clinical to do it this way. It feels like taking out the garbage. She’s been out of this relationship since the moment she met Vi – well, she’s known it since then. Or, she’s known she’s known it since then. She’s known it in her body since then.

Her body knows things so clearly now.

“Cait? Did something happen?”

How well can she walk the tightrope between honesty and cruelty, especially after just being ruthlessly possessed by another woman while painting herself in her fluids?

“Your kindness and interest in me have been so lovely. I appreciate so much being able to grow and learn how to be an adult with you. But now that I know more about the adult I am, I’m ready to start the next phase of my life on my own.”

Maddie is perplexed. It’s not quite landing. That’s fair, she’s hiding the part that makes the situation clear.

“Does this have anything to do with your date?”

Caitlyn decides to bite the bullet.

“Yes, I’m afraid so. The boxer I’m interviewing … I’m interested in getting to know her better.”

Maddie frowns. “But that’s the entire point of the open relationship. You can get to know her better and we can still be together.”

Caitlyn pinches the bridge of her nose and she tries to figure out how to thread the needle. “I’m afraid that … well, that’s our arrangement, but it’s not hers. And also, quite independently of that … I’m just done. I’m sorry for how that sounds. I hope you can understand.”

“Caitlyn … this is so sudden.”

She sighs. “I know. I know, I know it must feel terrible, but … pretending would just be worse. This is how it is. It’s clear to me, and it would be unfair to pretend otherwise. I’m going to spend the night at Jayce’s, and I’m looking into getting my own place.” She looks at her with all the kindness she can muster. “You’ve been good to me. I’m grateful for you. I hope it’s at least a little bit mutual.”

Maddie hears almost none of that. “You’re leaving me for the boxer?” she says, peevishly.

“I’m leaving you, and I’m interested in the boxer,” she says defensively.

“Are you fucking the boxer?”

Caitlyn makes a face that is pure regret over not having been completely straightforward about this issue to begin with, and Maddie is furious.

“Why didn’t you tell me? You’re allowed to fuck the boxer, what even is the point of the open relationship if you’re keeping things from me!”

“I don’t know what the point of the open relationship is! The minute I met this person I realized I didn’t want to be in one. That was three days ago, so I think I’m actually being fairly expeditious!”

“Oh, don’t strain your shoulder patting yourself on the back,” Maddie says sourly.

Caitlyn makes a face. She has gone through all of her sanitized and cordial dialogue options. She no longer wants to say nice things about the relationship she’s leaving, and it’s not doing either one of them any good anyway.

“I wish I had handled this better,” she says, a thing she’s getting pretty used to saying. “But it’s over.”

“Fine,” Maddie says shortly. “Go to Jayce’s, then.”

She does. She doesn’t pat herself on the back, but she does allow herself a little nod of satisfaction when she gets in the car.

*******

At Jayce’s she unpacks her bag and it’s just three outfits to work out in and three outfits she’s hoping to get fucked in. Her existence has been completely winnowed down to matters of the body, and there is an immediateness to that that she is completely unaccustomed to.

It feels like being both sheathe and blade, perfectly fitting into herself.

She has been completely unaccustomed to it, but she is becoming accustomed to it now: more and more she finds herself surrendering to it, not wishing for things to be different. Previously she thought, please let me have a clear thought, make a logical intentional rational decision. Let me game out every possible outcome and prepare an appropriate course of action. I feel most confident in knowing how I would respond to every possible situation. I can figure out the right thing to do through reason and intellect.

Now, she knows. She doesn’t need to minimize her impact on others. She needs to own it.

It feels so good having broken up with Maddie she almost wants to shower again to get the residue of the relationship off. She thinks of Vi, and how consistently she has avoided sharing her feelings with her, instead relying on offering her the vulnerability of her eager body to soothe all the ways Caitlyn has hurt her by taking what she wanted instead of asking. Only telling her the truth when she was inside of her. I want you to. You’re so good. I’m yours.

Can she figure out how to use the sureness of her body to find the words to reveal herself, instead of using them to hide?

She grabs her phone before she can think herself out of it, and texts the number.

“Vi? Can we talk?”

It is late, but the response comes back swiftly. “Sure. When?”

Her heart is pounding. She is absolutely sick of concealing her intentions. “Now? Or whenever is good for you?”

The brief wait is excruciating. “Now is good. I’m still at the gym if that works for you.”

Once again, she feels undeserving of Vi’s generosity. “I’m on my way.”

She picks an outfit to work out in, also sick of feeling entitled to being fucked.

Chapter Text

In this condition: stirred not only by men but by women, fat and thin, naked and clothed … by fruits such as melons, grapefruits, and kiwis; by certain plant parts such as petals, sepals, stamens, and pistils… anything sliding, anything sliding back and forth; anything sliding in and out with an oiled surface, as certain machine parts … anything pounding, anything stroking … anything warm, anything wet, anything wet and red, anything turning red, as the sun at evening; anything wet and pink; anything opening; any stream of water running, any stream running, any stream spurting, any stream spouting; any cry, any soft cry, any grunt; anything going into anything else, as a hand searching in a purse; anything clutching, anything grasping; anything rising, anything tightening or filling, as a sail; anything dripping, anything hardening, anything softening.

Lydia Davis, This Condition

*****

So Caitlyn’s back at the gym again already, and if that isn’t a clear statement on her level of deranged desperate lesbian longing she doesn’t know what is.

But then, Vi keeps letting her back in, so.

Oh, she’s nervous. She doesn’t know if she was this nervous the first time.

Vi has the absolute magnanimity to look concerned when she greets her at the door. “What’s going on? Are you okay?”

She wants to hug her. She wants to say I’m sorry you thought I needed you to be a brute for me, that you needed to be some kind of sex god to keep me close and hold me at bay. She wants to say you’re absolutely lovely and gentle and that is one of my favorite parts about you and I am sorry that my behavior ever made you think differently.

“I need to make a confession,” she says breathlessly, riding the wave of her certainty. “Well, no. First, I want to make an apology. From our first encounter I’ve done nothing but take what I’ve wanted from you because it’s felt so urgent to me and I’m so unused to that I’ve felt powerless against my own desire. It’s so selfish and indefensible and privileged and I know that and I hate it and I am so, so sorry.” She stops, takes a deep breath. “I haven’t really given you a chance to make a decision for yourself, I keep hinting and flirting and teasing and we’ve never had a clear conversation –”

“Caitlyn,” Vi says. Her expression is serious, and a touch perplexed. “I chose this. I chose to invite you here after hours. I chose to fuck you and how I wanted to fuck you and how I wanted you to submit to me. I got to choose.”

“You said no girls with girlfriends and I pushed you and it hurt you. You looked hurt earlier today and I asked for you anyway, and tonight you were clearly upset by something you didn’t want to talk about –”

“And I fucked you anyway. Because I wanted to. You can’t –” Vi looks frustrated. “You can’t take responsibility for all of this, Caitlyn. It took both of us. Do you think –” Her expression breaks a little, and now the hurt comes to the surface, just a trace. “Do you think it could be like that if I didn’t want to?”

That question hits Caitlyn like a train, it is so bone-breakingly sentimental to her. But she is deep in self-recrimination now and cannot seem to stop.

“You said no girls with girlfriends but I wanted you so badly and it was so clear to me then that I have a girlfriend that I do not want but I don’t want to have to tell you that I broke up with her hoping you’ll be with me, we literally just met. That’s so much to throw at you. That’s so much pressure. Wouldn’t that make me seem insane? Why would you even want to be with me? That’s our actual lives. This is just sex.”

“Just sex? What are you even talking about? Fucking you couldn’t be any more serious. I see the face of God when I fuck you. Cait, you make me absolutely crazy. The fact that you have a girlfriend is so offensive to me every time I think about it I feel like I’m being stabbed! How can you feel what I feel – what you so clearly seem to feel with me! – and yet still choose to go home to that girl every night?” She looks at her, eyes ablaze, and it is every moment Caitlyn has hurt her on display all over again.

She sees how the big bad commanding top energy is meant to hide exactly this feeling.

“I don’t! I’m going to my friend’s house! I can’t stand to be around her! I only think about you, I can’t think about anything but you, I can hardly even do my job which is right now thinking about you, and I am completely losing my mind!”

Vi’s gaze is wistful, appraising. “Cait,” she says hesitantly. “What are you saying?”

She can’t bear to look at her as she says it. “I want you,” she says brokenly. “I want you more than I have ever wanted anything. I am sick with how much I want you.”

“And?”

“I’m breaking up with Maddie. I’ve broken up with Maddie. But I’m afraid I’ve behaved so badly you won’t want to be with me. I feel like I haven’t been in control of myself this entire time. How could you want to …?”

Vi reaches out, gently takes her chin between her thumb and forefinger, and raises her face to meet hers. Her eyes are so soft and warm, Caitlyn’s chest feels bruised by them. Her stomach aches. How can she stand to gaze at her so openly?

“Cait,” she says huskily. “Ask me.”

Her body is screaming that she doesn’t deserve her. It’s so loud that her brain can’t form any other words.

“Cait,” Vi says insistently. “What do you want?”

“You,” she says, miserably.

“Then ask me.”

“Do you want me?”

“You know I want you. Ask me.”

“Violet,” she says, feeling every syllable heavy on her tongue. She’s not sure what to ask. Will you go out with me? Seems like a step back for a woman who’s railed her into oblivion and kissed her with her own come into her mouth. Will you be with me? That seems like too much to ask for someone she hasn’t even known a week. The question that comes out surprises her.

“Can I have you?”

It clearly surprises Vi too, and it must touch something tender in her because her eyes widen and her brow pinches, just a heartbreakingly sweet expression that Caitlyn has only seen glimpses of until now. Vi still holds her face in her hands and it hurts to be so open to her and see her be so open, she feels like they have just delivered their entire naked hearts to each other and they are waiting to see if the other will smash it.

Vi still looks so exquisitely unguarded that Caitlyn risks reaching out to touch her cheek. She looks into her eyes, finds herself looking at her mouth, and checks her eyes again. She does not want to insinuate. She does not want to take anything unbidden. “Vi,” she whispers, and the other woman nods, her gunmetal blue eyes huge and biddable.

“Can I kiss you?” she asks.

Vi nods. “Yes,” she says hoarsely. And they slowly close the space between them and gently, gently maneuver into closer and closer proximity until their lips touch. One of them sighs in relief. Possibly it is both of them. The kisses are so thoughtful, so careful, so intentional, that somehow they hurt even more than the fucked out drugged haze of helpless want. Caitlyn is here, aware, and kissing her on purpose, not despite everything, but because of it. She knows what is happening, and means it. She is prepared to change everything because of it.

When she pulls back, they are grinning at each other like teens. She feels the least tortured she has been since she can remember. Still smiling, she checks Vi’s shoulder with her own.

“Vi.”

“Yeah?”

“Would you like to go on a date?”

Vi looks so, so pleased. “Yeah,” she says, like it’s so obvious. “I thought you’d never ask.”

They stand there looking at each other, more embarrassed than they have ever been coated in each other’s come.

Vi looks at her with this crushingly endearing expression, half beaming and half sheepish, a little sly, and then says, shyly: “Can I fuck you right now?”

Her body says yes yes yes, so she says yes.

*****

In the office Vi hoists her up on the desk, pulls her workout shorts off, and murmurs sweetly into her ear. “Mm, do you wanna show me how good you can spread your legs for me? You’re so soft here, it feels so good to have you wide open for me. Can you keep yourself split for me?” She strokes her rough calloused hands along the insides of her sensitive thighs, leaving delicious little scratches behind. Caitlyn squirms and spreads for her, holds herself tight and open. She nestles her nose into Vi’s soft neck and whispers, “Is this good? Is this how you want me? It makes me so happy to be good for you.”

Vi grunts helplessly at that and wraps her hand around the inside of Caitlyn’s thigh, squeezes possessively. They both groan into each other’s ear. “You’re unbelievable, you’re so good, you’re such a good girl,” Vi purrs, kissing the dip of her jaw, her earlobe. Her other hand caresses the top of her thigh, scoops back around to Caitlyn’s ass, all stacked up from presenting for her, and clamps down hard on the swell there, a delicious pain that loosens up her spine a little. Her hands come up around Vi’s shoulders and jaw adoringly, pulling her in close. The grip on her ass and the grip on her thigh has her feeling completely locked down, and something debauched and powerful courses all the way through her. She brings her fingers to the soft hair at the base of Vi’s skull, presses closer, and breathes it into her ear. “I’ve wanted you so badly from the moment I met you,” she confesses quietly, hushed. “I’ve been walking around wet for days because I can’t stop thinking about your hands on me.” Vi inhales sharply at that, her hands tensing on her instinctively, and she shudders in response. “I just touched myself in the shower thinking about you looking in my eyes while you fucked me. That frenzied look you got when I told you I’m yours. I thought you might break me open and I wanted that, if you wanted to. It felt so good to be a thing you wanted to own and fuck hard.”

She offers all these confessions as a gift to her in appreciation for how good she makes her feel.

While she’s talking the hand with the grip on her thigh arrives at her slit, thumb gently testing her entrance, gathering wetness and stroking around the hood of her obscenely hard clit, then back down, big lazy circles warming her up, exploring her. She feels the want gather there.

“Cait,” Vi rasps plaintively, sounding tortured, applying lovely pressure to her softness and her hardness, stroking. She kisses down her neck, the base of her collarbone. “I would crawl on all fours through broken glass to fuck you. I wanted to have you so badly in that moment I could have punched through a wall. I wanted to fuck you so hard there was no question of you being anyone else’s.”

Caitlyn is so wet she is melting like wax into Vi’s hand as she strokes her. She’s moaning now, every sentence sending her deeper and deeper into a hole of desire. Vi’s thumb on her feels so good, focusing on her clit now, circling it, stoking her want.

“I was never anyone else’s,” Caitlyn says quietly, funneling all of these thoughts from somewhere else, letting them spill out as she rocks against Vi’s hand. “From the moment I saw you I was yours. I was always waiting to be yours. I’m so, so proud to be yours.”

Suddenly Vi’s thick fingers are inside of her, and she cries out shamelessly, so grateful. When she cries out like this she can show Vi how much she means everything she’s just said. She wants to envelop her with her warmth, contain her deep within her. Vi grips her hips so tightly in one big hand and fucks her with the other hand, sliding into her firmly and intently, curling her fingers inside of her. Caitlin shifts on the desk, wriggling.

“Please, Violet. I need to feel my legs around you. Please?”

Vi, sweating, working her, nods. “Yes,” she says immediately. “Pull me in tight.”

She brings her long legs around Vi’s waist and Vi anchors her own hand against her body and uses her hips and ass to thrust hard into Caitlyn’s pussy, scooping her other hand around her waist. Caitlyn pulls her in, wraps herself around her completely, squeezes as she rocks herself on Vi’s hand which is pumping deep inside of her. Their foreheads are pressed together, and she can taste Vi’s breath in her mouth. She wants it. Somehow she keeps getting what she wants so she asks.

“Kiss me,” she says fervently, gripping at the back of Vi’s neck, looking into her eyes, riding her hand diligently. “Kiss me, please.”

Vi obeys. It’s wet and open-mouthed, insistent, grounding. She takes her lip tenderly into her mouth, savoring her tongue, the aliveness there. It’s firm but not bruising, powerful but not controlling. It expresses something mutual between them, keeps them in understanding. She has longed so deeply to feel this close to her that that’s when her climax starts to build, holding her close against her face, kissing her mouth, legs wrapped around her ass, rocking back and forth on her hand.

She’s moaning into her mouth as it comes on, letting her taste her pleasure, panting rhythmic little moans that get more and more plaintive as she gets closer and closer. Soon they stretch out and loosen and become even more expressive: appreciative, delighted, unabashedly exposed. When a big gasp comes, she wraps both hands around Vi’s face and pulls back, looks her in the eyes as it comes on, blissfully, and she watches Vi watch her come apart as she fucks her, Vi’s eyes blazing and her expression wild and open. Caitlyn wants to show her how she’s made her feel, this coiling thing lashing out, swelling and rocking through her, pouring out of her into Vi’s strong hand.

She pours and pours until she is completely worn out.

After she brings her face back to hers in her worshipful hands, kisses her cheekbone, the ridge of her nose, the corner of her mouth. She finally, finally kisses the scar, the dip in her lip there, and sighs happily. She kisses the corner of her jaw, the delicious pocket of scent just behind it, her earlobe. She kisses the soft skin in front of her ear, her temple, the soft little hairs there. She kisses her forehead, each expressive eyebrow. Vi looks bulldozed, some powerful aching sensitivity clear as day on her face, raw.

She looks like she might cry, but in a good way.

“Cait –”

“You’re so sweet,” Caitlyn whispers huskily, kissing and kissing her, cradling her face and head in her hands reverently. “How in the world …” She stops, looks at her, sees the vulnerability on her face, and it cuts through her completely.

She brings her hand to her cheek, and hears herself say: “How in the world do you bear it?”

And suddenly Vi has grabbed her by the back of the head with both hands and is kissing her hard, and it is wonderful. She is utterly astonished at who this person has turned out to be. This sweet brute, she is so, so gentle with her, and so so rough –

Caitlyn reaches out and touches her abs, her ribs, her lats. She wraps her hands up around her back, feels the muscles bunched in her shoulders. She strokes her hands down her sides, grabs her around her muscular waist. She feels her thumbs brush against the waistband of her shorts, and she turns her head to break the kiss.

“Vi –”

“Yeah?”

“Can I …?”

Vi looks at her very seriously and takes her hand, presses it against her stomach, and slips it beneath her waistband. Now she smiles.

“Do you want to feel how wet you make me?”

Caitlyn is speechless. She nods mutely, wide-eyed, as Vi brings her hand down to her patch of coarse hair, her soft velvety lips. She is soaked, seeping, overflowing. She spills out into Caitlyn’s cupped fingers. It is incredible to feel her this way, to look at her handsome face as she feels her yield to her hand. A shudder rocks her entire body and she groans.

Vi leans in closer, whispers into her ear. “Do you like that?”

Helplessly. “Yes.”

“That’s how wet I get when I take you. That’s how much I want you. That’s what you do to me.”

Caitlyn is breathing hard.

“You’ve never made me do anything I didn’t want to do. I’ve wanted you this whole time, every time.”

Her chest is pounding, her stomach, her cunt. She can hear herself panting.

Vi cocks her wrist and presses Caitlyn’s hand up and she hisses to feel herself slip inside of her, soft and eager and dripping. Her expression is shocked and her jaw drops, working in disbelief.

“Vi –”

“I’m this way every time I touch you. Every time I take you I’m ruined like this. I’ve wanted you this much, every time.”

She guides her fingers in all the way and her hips start to rock slightly as she presses Caitlyn’s hand deeper inside her. She brings her other hand to Caitlyn’s head, holding their faces close as she rides her.

“Does it feel good to be inside me?”

“Yes,” Caitlyn says immediately, urgently. “Yes. Yes.” She’s stunned stupid but she’s so, so grateful. She reaches and her mouth opens and closes, opens and closes, incredulous. “Yes. Thank you.”

“You can fuck me a little harder.”

“Yes,” she says reverently, obediently, and presses her hand home inside of this force of nature, feeling herself wet and gripped. She can’t believe it. Is she imagining it?

“You feel so good,” Vi murmurs musically, rolling her hips, finding her rhythm, rough palm cradling the back of Caitlyn’s hand, keeping it company, completely enveloped. Caitlyn pushes, reaches, curls and beckons inside of her. She applies a bit more force, gauging her responses intently. She could not feel any more resolute.

Vi takes a step back from between Caitlyn’s legs to maneuver around her right leg, straddling it, and then brings herself down on top of it slowly, taking her hand away from Caitlyn’s and holding her fingers inside of her with just her tension, hand trapped between Vi and her own thigh.

“Is this okay for your wrist?” Vi asks, and she nods.

Vi rests more of her weight on her, testing, and relaxes a bit, trusting the solidity of her body, settling into her. She rocks slowly, testing the position, and finds a little hitch in the motion, chasing it, trusting into it, and soon starts to whine, husky little melodic whines that erupt molten lava into Caitlyn’s belly. She finds herself whining in response.

“Yes,” she says breathlessly, so happy. “Yes, please yes. Please use me, please.”

Vi lets out a huge, melting sigh and grabs her by the waist, using it as leverage to rock back and forth on her thigh, gathering speed and intensity. Caitlyn sees beads of sweat gather on her brow, on the soft fuzz of her lip. She sees her eyes cloud over, off lost in some stream of awe. “Cait,” she whimpers, rising in pitch. “Fuck, Cait.”

Caitlyn’s jaw is dropped, her eyes absolutely blazing. She wants Vi to come in her hand, on her thigh, so badly she can’t stand it, the intensity that she feels is almost unbearable.

“Violet,” she says urgently. “Come for me. Please. I need to feel you tight around me.”

She gets a helpless outburst in response, a wordless yelp that is utterly naked and raw, and goes on until it is cut off by a sharp intake of breath, and then another. Vi cries out bellowing, pressing hard onto her hand, rocking back and forth helplessly, animalistically, groaning. It almost seems like too much, like she’s not in control at all, like it hurts. “Fuck!” she yells, her head thrown back towards the ceiling, her neck arched and exposed, chest heaving, hands gripping her waist so tightly she hopes she’ll bruise. She rides her and rides her, grips her, so intensely, until she finally slows, muttering, and sags onto Caitlyn, her forehead tucked into her shoulder.

She stays there and breathes for a minute, the motion of her hips slowing, and Caitlyn smiles widely, very pleased with herself.

When Vi pulls back her face is candid, a little overwhelmed, moved. “Cait,” she says, astounded. Caitlyn brings her free hand up to hold her face and regards her kindly.

There is nothing that is appropriate to say. Any words that accompany the depth of feeling would be completely perverse to say to her at this juncture. So she just smiles, softly, showing her her care for her.

Vi dismounts and swoops in to hold her close, embracing her fiercely, saying the same thing back.

They remain there for a bit, stroking each other’s hair and backs, breathing each other in, savoring each other’s weight and warmth. Appreciating each other’s presence.

Finally, Vi says, “Don’t you have a deadline?” Caitlyn checks her with her shoulder and she pulls back, grinning.

Caitlyn scoffs. “Don’t you have a fight?”

Vi laughs. “Do you think we can stop fucking each other long enough to actually get anything done?”

Caitlyn looks down, a little embarrassed at how relentlessly she has pursued it. “I think we’re going to have to try.”

Vi looks down too, a rueful smile on her face, taking in their surroundings.

“I’m going to have to clean the hell out of this office.”

******

She wakes up four hours later raw as unspun wool and goes on a run. Complete the piece, attend the fight, find a new place to live.

Figure out what she’s doing with her life.

Well, one thing at a time.

Probably get fucked a bunch in between.

She notices the beginning of a smile on her face that won’t shake off.

When she returns Jayce is drinking coffee and he has prepared her a cup and he is patient and careful with her, knowing she has been teetering on the knife’s edge of overwhelm for at least the last 72 hours.

Probably, Caitlyn thinks wryly, not wanting to be the reason she cries again.

“Good morning, Sprout,” he says. “Break up with your girlfriend yet?”

She feels herself arrive in the moment with a wash of relief. “Yes, actually,” she replies, and the smile returns, takes a little firmer hold on her face.

“How wonderful. How does it feel?”

“Like I should have done it a long time ago. Like I should have never been with her in the first place. Did you know my mom never liked her?”

Jayce’s eyebrows shoot up. “You talked to Cassandra about it?”

“I have to find a new place to live. I’m tired of playing house with Maddie. I asked Mother for my trust fund.”

“What did she have to say?”

“She was surprisingly receptive. She seems interested in what’s going on in my life. I didn’t give her any details, but … she didn’t try to give me her opinion. In fact, she was trying really hard to not give me her opinion.”

Jayce drinks his coffee. She can tell that he is hiding a smile behind his cup. “And the boxer? Does she want to date you?”

Caitlyn immediately blushes and the smile breaks into something big and wide, unrestrained.

Jayce, looking slightly smug, says, “So everything’s coming up Caitlyn.”

“Well –” She goes to defend herself and then stops. “Yes, I suppose so. I need to finish this piece today and then I’m going to start looking for a place. And then tomorrow is Vi’s fight.”

He nods.

“I want you to come with me to the fight. But I also want you to know that Mel is coming to the fight. Can you handle that? Are you two on good terms right now?”

Jayce looks a bit flustered in a way that Caitlyn picks up on right away.

“What?”

He puts his mug down and puts his hand on the table, searching for the words.

She beats him to it. “You’re fucking again.”

“Well,” he says, his voice going up in tone as he says it. He shakes his head at her and his shoulders shoot up to his ears and stay there. As if to say, can she blame him. “Yes?”

“Are you fucking in a way that will make it easier or harder for you to spend time in the same place?”

He looks completely and endearingly nonplussed. “That remains to be seen? But I’m sure we can. We can certainly manage to coexist near each other and look at your hot girlfriend with you.”

“She’s not my girlfriend,” Caitlyn says automatically, so reflexively she’s not even sure why she says it.

He makes a face at her, and she makes a face back.

“Great,” he says abruptly. “I’ll hang out with you and my not girlfriend and we’ll all watch your not girlfriend get into a fistfight for money. It’ll be a great Saturday night.”

“Okay!” she says flippantly, heading to shower. “Looking forward to it! See you later!”

“Love you!” he calls back in the same tone.

“Love you too!”

In the shower she finds the smile returns and settles in to stay.

Chapter Text

You lost your way to me somehow
And crushed the day into the ground
Take your top off, show me around
Don't make me take your picture down

Tops, Topless

The piece is blessedly easy to write now that everything is out in the open between them and she is not being tortured with guilty longing. Vi Vanderson is an amateur boxer and community organizer who was falsely imprisoned in her teens. Since leaving Stillwater as a young adult, she now splits her time between fighting and coaching other formerly incarcerated women at the boxing gym she co-runs with another former inmate. Along with teaching the women how to fight and helping them cultivate power and joy in their bodies, the gym serves as a community space for marginalized women, creating a space to bring together individuals who are all too accustomed to solving their problems on their own. Vi has an upcoming fight against Cleo 'Dozer' Caine, and should she win, a portion of the money from the prize purse will likely go into continued operation of the gym, and you can also donate here if you like. The fight is Saturday at 8pm.

Vi has made such a unique, satisfying, and frankly hot life for herself, it is hard to remember why Caitlyn was such a bitch about covering it in the first place.

And Mel says as much when she turns it in. “Looks like you got something out of this assignment after all,” she says, unable to contain her self-satisfaction, when Caitlyn sits down across from her at her desk that afternoon.

“Yes, thank you,” Caitlyn says, barely managing to sound annoyed. “You assigned me a profile on a terrifically hot athlete with a heart of gold and I fell for her right away and now I am having by far the most fantastic sex of my life. Once again you are right, Mel Medarda. Is this what you wanted to hear?”

Mel looks at her serenely. “Well, the thank you part is nice.” She cocks her head, considering. “And the other part too. You deserve it. The case could be made, even, that you’ve needed it. But that’s not for me to say.”

Caitlyn is within an inch of taking offense to this probably true insinuation when something occurs to her. “Wait. You said that you got this story on a tip. Was this …”

“My plan all along? Well, I certainly didn’t mind the extra intrigue. I couldn’t say your type with any certainty. But I think it’s fair to say this new short redhead is certainly an upgrade.”

Caitlyn’s absolute distaste for being observed and controlled chafes up against her satisfaction with the outcome of Mel’s meddling. She notices that after being fucked into a puddle for however many days in a row she’s inclined to let it go for now.

She allows herself to make just the hint of a face. “Well, since you seem to know everything, perhaps you’re already aware that I’ve invited Jayce to the fight tomorrow night.”

The ghost of a wince gives her away. “I was not aware of that.”

“And I’ve recently learned that your on-again off-again situation is on again?”

Mel’s face is one of smooth protest. “I wouldn’t quite say that.”

“No? How would you describe it then?”

“Jayce and I continue to enjoy each other’s company from time to time.”

“And one of the times has been more recent than usual.”

“I’m not certain what you’re getting at.”

“The two of you are my closest friends. It is easier for me when you both are on good terms. And that tends to be more complicated when you two are having sex, which you seem to be doing now. So I’m just letting you know, I’m bringing Jayce to the fight. I would like you both to be emotionally and logistically prepared.”

Mel looks at her, completely serene. “I appreciate your concern, Caitlyn, but I am perfectly capable of behaving myself and enjoying the company of my friends without incident. We both are. We both are consenting adults who can handle being in public around each other.” She takes a breath. “The trouble is, these are ringside seats.”

“Yes? Where is the trouble, exactly?”

“Well, they were a gift. From Vi’s coach.” Mel pauses a moment. “Who I am also fucking.”

Caitlyn lets out a long breath. “Mel. I’m guessing Jayce doesn’t know anything about this.”

Mel raises her hand dismissively and swats the air, as if chasing away a gnat. “Jayce has his own trysts. I trust you know that things with his research partner haven’t remained strictly platonic.”

Caitlyn reels a little bit in her seat at all this gossip. “I can’t say that I haven’t had my suspicions, but he’s never told me. And I don’t see how that would make him any less uncomfortable at the prospect of spending time watching you swoon over … Sevika, isn’t it?”

“Oh, please. First of all, I don’t swoon in public. Second of all, Jayce and I aren’t dating. The conditions under which he has access to me are not monogamous. If he can’t handle that, he can stop texting me after 10pm.”

“You were so shocked that I was in an open relationship with Maddie.”

“I was so shocked that you were in an open relationship with Maddie, a person who so clearly has never been in your league. I found that completely perplexing. This is an entirely different situation.”

“Sevika was your tip about Vi?”

“Sevika was my tip about Vi. So, you’re welcome. And you’re welcome for the ringside seats. And if you’re worried about it being awkward, maybe you can extend a little gratitude and be Jayce’s wingman. Because I don’t intend on rubbing anything in his face, but I’m also not catering to his feelings all night.”

“Fine,” Caitlyn says. “Honestly, it’s a little titillating to learn you go both ways.”

“I’m a cosmopolitan woman,” Mel says.

“I look forward to spending time with you both.”

“I look forward to seeing your hot girlfriend strutting around in a sports bra and trunks.”

“She’s not my girlfriend.”

Mel looks at her in what Caitlyn can only call a patronizing manner. “Oh Caitlyn,” she says, patiently. “Who are you trying to fool?”

*****

She starts looking for apartments, paging through lofts, two bedrooms, studios, that are equally accessible to both Piltover and Zaun. If she’s not being frugal for the sake of it, what does she really want? She’s not sure, but she lines up a bunch of showings in the faith that she’ll know it when she sees it.

That it will feel right. That she’ll be able to notice what feels good and what doesn’t.

It is so much money. What is she meant to do with it all? It’s just a fraction of what will eventually be hers, and it just keeps coming.

It feels very much like her to experience it as heavy, as an obligation instead of an opportunity. Or, very much like her four days ago.

Instead of how can she avoid the discomfort of having so much when others have so little, the question becomes where can her money do the most good?

She finds this to be a very good question.

*****

None of them have ever been to a boxing match before. The atmosphere is wild – there is a hum of excitement that penetrates the bones. Everyone is dressed ostentatiously, the men in suits and chains and rings, the women in flirty dresses, tight pants and statement tops, short jackets and furs. Lots of leather. Lots of jewelry. The point is to be on display. Everyone is drinking. It is unbelievably lively.

Jayce is in his usual white and gold, a bit stiff; Mel is in her usual black and gold, stunning. Caitlyn wears a sleeveless navy blue bodycon cocktail dress with a keyhole in the front and back, showing her chest and shoulders. The fabric is taut against her and she feels contained and plush. She’s even wearing her fuck-me ponytail.

She feels, in a word, sensual.

And they’ve only had one drink.

Ringside is … close. A few seats down she notices a blue-haired girl with a sharp, intelligent expression and a boy with a mohawk comprised of white dreads chatting intimately with each other, cracking jokes back and forth. She notices the crowd noise and the heat, the hubbub.

She thinks she’s about to have an exciting Saturday night.

Mel and Jayce avoid the slight awkwardness between them by teaming up to interrogate Caitlyn.

“So? How are things going between you and the boxer?” Mel asks smoothly.

Splendidly, she wants to say. It’s been an absolute revelation. I didn’t know someone so hot and sweet could even exist, much less want to fuck me stupid like it was their calling in life.

Her other instinct might normally be to lower her head and blush in embarrassment at being called out, or at her good fortune, but she’s wearing a very sexy dress, she’s being fucked heroically on the regular, and she’s already had a shot of tequila.

It is a smug smile that spreads across her face. The first time she has felt smug about the situation yet. She is fucking the woman whose face is plastered on the posters. Last night that woman told her she would crawl through broken glass on all fours to fuck her and then came in her hand. “Extremely well,” she concedes, aware that she is glowing with tequila and contentment. Mel’s expression is pleased.

“It’s good to see you like this,” Jayce says, “even if it is a little weird.”

“You do seem less uncomfortable than usual,” Mel agrees.

“Uncomfortable?”

Jayce and Mel exchange glances, and Jayce takes the lead. “Well, Sprout … it’s almost like … well let’s just say, until now, it’s almost as though you haven’t realized that you’re an extremely attractive person.”

“And exceptionally rich,” Mel adds.

“I don’t see how –”

“Like you’ve had some sort of injunction against letting yourself enjoy yourself.”

Caitlyn’s face wrinkles in protest as she prepares to launch an objection, and Jayce and Mel look at each other again. She feels outnumbered.

And the protest is reflexive, anyway. She can obviously tell that she feels different now than she did last week, it has suffused every inch of her experience since the moment she met Vi. She’s tipsy, poured into a hot dress, wearing a cunty ponytail, ringside at a boxing match on a Saturday night.

She’s not in her humdrum apartment doing a puzzle with Maddie, numbly safe from feeling anything at all.

It’s true. She has been reluctant to allow herself to enjoy anything about her life, keenly aware she hasn’t earned it. But that would be impossible. It is impossible to earn the kind of privilege that Caitlyn has. The best she can do is behave in a way that is worthy of it. Not waste it out of stodgy self-denial.

And that includes being young and hot.

So she lowers her guard a bit to her friends and herself. “I feel good,” she admits. “For the first time that I can remember. It must have been so frustrating to watch.”

“You’re a good person, Cailtyn,” Jayce says, kindly, perhaps a touch too seriously for the setting. “You deserve to have a nice time.”

“And you will tonight,” Mel adds. “I intend to make sure of it. More shots?”

*****

They’re on their third round when the lights dim and the pump up music starts. The crowd is raucous, grumbling its excitement. Caitlyn can feel her blood start to get hot. First comes out the other boxer, Cleo ‘Dozer’ Caine, a mid-sized blonde in blue trunks and a blue sports bra, smoothly muscled with her hair in two thick braids tightly worn back from her scalp. Her song is a girlypop anthem with a marching band flavor, an empowerment jam. Her face is vacant, her eyes goat-like and eerie. Cheers erupt from the audience as she makes her way up and bobs through the ropes.

It is nothing compared to what happens when Vi comes out. Her song is terrifically annoying, ominous, a low throbbing beat with horns and spooky synth strings, conjuring a perfect atmosphere of hip intimidation. The crowd is in a full on roar. People – women – are screaming their enthusiasm.

When Caitlyn spots her, she feels a surge of exhilaration rip through her body. Her pink hair is slicked back, her scar and tattoo prominent, jaw as sharp as a knife. She’s wearing red shorts and trunks, her boulder shoulders and tortoise shell abs undulating as she moves. The menace emanating from her is palpable. Caitlyn thinks of when she first saw her in the gym, and how immediate her desire was, her hunger. She feels it now, again, with the knowledge of how her tongue tastes, her neck, her cunt.

Her mouth is wide open.

Jayce grabs her shoulder and hisses in her ear. “Holy shit, Cait. No wonder you’re dickmatized.”

She can’t even spare him a look.

“Well done,” Mel says on her other side.

As Vi weaves between the ropes into the ring, Sevika and Gert come to meet her. Caitlyn notices the blue-haired girl and white-dreaded boy are on their feet, absolutely rowdy.

“Wearing red, official weight 140 lbs. Her professional record stands at 22 fights, 19 victories including 5 knockouts. Ladies and gentlemen, former junior lightweight champion of Zaun, Vi Vanderson!”

The crowd loses its mind. The referee stands between them and explains where it is okay to hit, where it is not, says he wants a good, clean fight.

And then they are going. They are sprightly now, fresh, dancing into and away from each other. Vi launches fists, single punches, feeling out her reach, and Caine prances back, trying to keep away. Vi’s a bit shorter, a touch broader. Vi is the one to bring the action, Caine the mover, trying to keep out of Vi’s path. They’re not getting off combinations, just one shot after another. They come in close, lean on each other, and the ref splits them up.

The first round is over fast. Sevika and Gert come in to check Vi’s face, pour water into her mouth. Caitlyn isn’t sure what to make of what she’s seen, besides that Vi is fast and powerful, and so is the other woman.

She’s not … nervous, exactly. But she’s simmering.

Round 2, Vi starts getting off some combinations. Caitlyn can see the sweat spray off of Caine’s face when she’s struck, both their bodies glistening. Vi keeps leading with her right, two nice little punches through Caine’s guard and then a jab – Caitlyn can hear the smack of glove against flesh. But when Vi goes in to make more of it, Caine dances away, keeps her distance for the entire round.

Round 3, she gets Vi real good, they’re up close and giving each other shot after shot to the head before the ref comes in to split them up.

It is hard to watch Vi get hit in the head over and over again but it doesn’t seem to dampen her spirits at all.

She hears the boy near her bellow, “Stop blocking with your face!”

Round 4 is harder to watch. Caine backs Vi into the corner and goes after her. They’re exchanging blows but it’s not even, Vi is taking blow after blow as she keeps trying to fire off hits, long moments passing before she pushes Caine back out to the center of the ring. Vi’s legs are straight and she’s reeling and dazed, getting clobbered over and over again. She keeps giving, keeps landing blows back, but her eyes are empty and blood starts flowing from her nose.

She survives. At the end of the round Sevika is giving her serious words, Gert is spraying the blood out of her mouth, checking her eyes for wounds. Caitlyn has her fingers digging into Jayce’s thigh, and he removes her hand and grabs it instead, squeezes it tight.

“This is brutal,” he says, shocked.

Caitlyn has no words. She has no frame of reference for what she is seeing and doesn’t know what to make of Vi’s odds. She has faith that Vi is good at what she does but she has no metric, and watching her get punched in the face until her legs lock up is making her queasy.

Round 5 Vi’s eyes are huge, her face still bleeding, throwing out hard punches. A rousing chant echoes through the crowd but Caitlyn can’t make out what it is – something about a hound of the underground. She makes out Vanderson. The chant is for Vi. She makes it through the round, keeping Caine in close.

In round 6 it’s Caine’s turn to get caught in the corner, Vi nailing her with her right hand over and over again, throwing off combos. They’re fast and hard, and Caine’s legs grow heavy. Vi pours the pressure on and makes it to round 7. Now Caine has taken her foot off the gas, and Vi is pulling it out. Now they’re both sweaty, both of their hair disheveled, both their faces bleeding freely. Now there is a surge from Vi, hard punches, fierce. Caine is too tired to dance away. There is a new chant now from the crowd.

“Vi stands for violence! Vi stands for violence!”

Caitlyn feels a little thrill roll through her body, tingling all the way to the end of her fingertips.

Vi’s lats, she notices, look huge.

Round 8, Vi clearly has more left in the tank. Vi throws one, twos to the head, one twos to the head. It reminds Caitlyn of seeing Vi first at the speed bag. Caine starts bleeding freely now from a cut over her eye. As her footwork gets sloppier and sloppier, as they linger in each other’s arms more frequently, Caitlyn sees Vi wind up and hit Caine in the head, over and over again until she stumbles. She makes it to the ropes to ride it out till round 9.

Round 9 is more of the same. Vi’s clearly gotten the upper hand, survived whatever Caine did to her in round 4. Caine’s legs are so heavy, just not working, her expression dazed, her face bruised and bleeding. Vi gets off combo after combo, shot after shot, and just completely dominates. At the end of the round, when Caine sits down, the ref comes over and tells her it’s over.

The crowd absolutely erupts. The two fighters embrace, the ref takes Vi’s hand and holds it up to announce it. She’s blissed out, sweaty, bleeding, utterly spent and satisfied. Surrounded by Sevika and Gert, she finds Caitlyn’s eyes and gives her a big grin and a wink.

Her heart skips a beat as Jayce nudges her in the ribs.

After the crowd has cleared away somewhat and she’s able to make her way close to her, Vi grabs her in a big sweaty embrace and yells into her ear. “There’s an afterparty at the gym! I want you to come! Bring your friends!”

The blue-haired girl with the smart expression notices her with Vi, and she does not seem to be pleased.

*****

The three of them make an extremely unlikely trio to be at a Zaun boxing afterparty, but after three shots and a victory from her not-girlfriend Caitlyn’s feeling unusually loose. She has brought a copy of the paper and a bouquet of flowers, and Mel has brought a bottle of tequila. As his contribution, Jayce has agreed to stay sober enough to drive them home.

Hip-hop and house beats rumble the ground and shake the windows as they approach the gym. People are smoking outside, lots of people she recognizes from the fight earlier but also people from the neighborhood, gathering in little circles and blowing off some steam. Because everyone is so dressed up Caitlyn and her friends hardly even stand out, and though the massive bouncer at the door still gives them a puzzled expression, he doesn’t prevent them from entering.

Once inside, a wall of hot humid air hits them, the building packed with people chatting and flirting and drinking and dancing. She is looking for Vi to give away her items, feeling burdened with them. Jayce is looking around in a way that is clearly out of place but very interested, and Mel is regal and purposeful.

Jayce gets a lot of juice out of just being big, Caitlyn thinks.

When they find Vi, she is with Sevika and Gert and the blue-haired girl and white-dreaded boy from the match. She’s completely at ease, smilingly teasing the boy as she wraps her arm around the girl’s shoulder, bringing her in to lean towards him together. She’s wearing a midweight white ringspun t-shirt tucked into pleated black trousers and a military-inspired tech boot, a little red bandana twisted into a neckerchief. Caitlyn finds herself wanting to tug on it.

“Cait!”

Her pleasure at being greeted so warmly is quickly subsumed by her discomfort at having Vi’s entire circle turn towards her appraisingly. She blushes hard, but the room is so hot and close she doesn’t feel as exposed as she could.

“Cait, this is Sevika and Gert, who you know … and this is my sister Powder visiting from college, and her boyfriend Ekko.”

Caitlyn doesn’t know Sevika but she pretends to, smiles and nods at her and Gert, and puts her hand out to Powder and Ekko. “Hello! I’m Caitlyn, pleasure to meet you.”

Ekko shakes and tells her it is a pleasure to meet her.

Powder shakes, grabbing her hand hard, her eyes gleaming and her expression impossible to read. “Hello, Caitlyn,” she says, in a way that makes her name maybe sound like an insult. “Pleasure’s all mine.”

Before she can figure out what to make of that, Sevika fixes Mel with a brazen look. “Mel,” she says, and Caitlyn sees Jayce flinch in surprise, “Glad to see you here. Did you enjoy the seats?”

“Very much so,” Mel declares easily. “Please allow me to thank you again, we had the most amazing time.”

“Vi,” Caitlyn says, “This is Mel, my friend and editor. And this is Jayce, my oldest friend from childhood.”

“I know this guy,” Ekko says in surprise. “This is the Man of Progress himself!”

Jayce immediately is extremely awkward. “Oh, well, I’ve been called that I suppose, but really I’m just an inventor –”

“Ekko and Powder are inventors!” Vi says cheerily, her pride clearly on display. “What is it you’re working on lately?”

“I’m sure I couldn’t say!” Powder says, cheerily as well, but tightly. She and Ekko exchange looks and she turns to Jayce. “But you, Mr. Hextech himself, what brings you down here to our humble little party?”

Jayce clears his throat. “Oh, well, uh I’m just here with Cait,” he says, looking at her, looking at Vi. “The match was marvellous Vi, absolutely electrifying to watch. You were amazing.”

“She did a good job tonight,” Sevika growls, happily Caitlyn thinks, and claps Vi on the shoulder so heavily Caitlyn can hear it through the crowd noise. “Really good fighting from this one.”

“You were incredible,” Caitlyn agrees, looking at Vi. And Vi looks back at her, sees the paper and the flowers, and grabs her arm.

“You got me flowers?” she says incredulously. “And the paper!”

“Caitlyn wrote an article about Vi that’s in the paper today,” Mel explains to Powder and Ekko.

“Cool,” Ekko says, at the same time that Powder drawls, “How wonderful,” inscrutably.

“I think I might have a vase in the office,” Vi says, and looks at Caitlyn in a way that brings her blush back. Vi turns to Mel and Jayce and bows at them very slightly as she steps away, hand still on Caitlyn’s arm, dragging her off. “Excuse me while I borrow Cait for a moment.”

She can’t bear to look at anyone else in the circle, so the last thing she sees before she walks off is Mel raising an eyebrow at her.

*****

In the office, Vi very purposefully locks the door and looks at her slyly.

Caitlyn proffers the roses and the paper, and Vi steps towards her, ignoring her gifts for a moment, cups her cheek in her hand, and kisses her slowly and tenderly, purposefully, patiently.

Time slows down and stretches out like taffy. When they part, Caitlyn’s shoulders are slack and a blissed out smile is glued to her face.

“You were unbelievable,” she says, at the same time that Vi says, “You got me flowers!” They both laugh in pleasure, and Vi takes her gifts and brings them to the desk. She looks at the paper and blushes and puts it down, sits on the desk.

“You wrote about me,” she says, embarrassed.

Caitlyn sits next to her. “I did. I learned about you, thought about you, and then wrote about you.” She lowers her head and snorts, laughing at herself a little bit. “I thought about you a lot.”

Vi looks at her and turns towards her, extends two fingers to drag across the flesh peeking through the front keyhole in her dress. Caitlyn shudders, watches her take a deep breath as she does it. Her voice very low, Vi says: “I thought about you a lot too. While I was training this week. It spurred me on. I wanted you to see how tough I can be.”

“I did,” Caitlyn says, and her voice almost fails her. “I liked it. But I didn’t need to.” She stands now, notches herself in between Vi’s legs, reaches out and touches beneath her bloodied nose softly, gently brushes against a bruise on her cheek. “She hit you pretty hard. It was a little hard to watch at times.”

Vi sweeps an arm out and pulls her in closer, sighing pleasantly. “You worried for me?”

“I did,” she confesses quietly. “But I was excited to watch you win.” Her hands move down to rest on her chest and she thinks of being pressed against her in the library, wanting to kiss her so badly that she knew the rest of her life was over. A little surge of delight rushes through her now, wanting her and knowing she can have her. She takes and idly twists the ends of her neckerchief in her fingers. “You look very good in this.”

Vi grunts and her other hand reaches out for her hip, clasping a hand around it hungrily. “You. This dress is crazy. You’re so hot I want to eat you alive.”

Caitlyn chuckles. “Do you say that to all the girls you fuck after matches?”

Vi shakes her head. “No,” she says simply.

Something about that, the unapologetic honesty of it, does it for her.

“I want you,” she says. “Do we have time?”

“We’ll make time,” Vi answers, maneuvering her with the hand around her hip, bringing her in tight. “For this dress, we’ll make time.”

She loves pressing up against her mass, tucking into her, bringing artful fingertips to her jaw, dipping her head to murmur adoringly into her ear. “Your hands are so powerful,” she purrs, looking down at the one clapped proprietarily around her hip, running one finger along it slowly, dragging it up to the fingertip. She takes it into her grasp, grabs her first two fingers and folds the rest under, looking Vi in the eyes as she brings it to her mouth. There is a hitch in Vi’s breath as she kisses the pad of the index finger, uses the weight of both fingers to pull down her soft wet bottom lip, reaches her tongue out to take the fingers into her warm pliant mouth. Now she glides them along the pillowy pink cradle of her tongue, surrounds them gently with her lips, and brings her face forward, rocking her mouth back and forth on Vi’s fingers, softly, softly. Slowly she shows Vi how far back she can take her, looking her in the eye, wanting her to be pleased with her. Showing off for her. She feels a pitiful expression come to rest on her face as she tests her throat with each dip of her head, taking Vi further and further back. She feels her stomach drop as her whole world gathers here, wanting to take her as deep as she can, wanting to make her feel strong.

Vi looks like she might burn up. Her eyes are wild and wide. “Fuck, Cait,” she whispers, completely possessed. She stays still, doesn’t push, lets her show off for her. There is a terrible want on her face and Caitlyn can feel the effort it takes to let her please her, to be patient instead of taking. She can see it build, become more and more overwhelming to her. Finally she has to let it out somehow.

“You’re so incredible, I can’t believe you, you’re so good, you make me feel so good. I’m so, so lucky to have your slutty little mouth on my fingers, I’m so happy you’re mine, you’re such a perfect tight little hole for me, you’re so sweet –”

Her eyes, huge, meet Caitlyn’s. “You’re so soft,” she declares, wonderingly, and Caitlyn pushes her throat as far down on Vi’s fingers as she can, and feels her entire body submit to the gravity of it, a deep black hole of honeyed want.

She pulls back slowly and performatively, a ribbon of drool dangling from Vi’s hand, and says, “Please,” at the same time Vi asks, “Can I –”

And Vi’s thick wet fingers are pressed to the knuckle inside of her, slid beneath her dress, between her legs, up inside of her and reaching. The other arm squeezes her in tight and her fingers are buried in the hair on the back of Vi’s head, her hands on her jaw, her arms folded against herself as she holds Vi close and kisses her sloppily with her wet fucked mouth. “Mm,” she moans happily, “mm,” so so happily. How can she keep doing this to her, expanding her to this, reducing her to this? She rocks back and forth on those magnificent fingers and feels herself clench tight, wrap around Vi’s hand and take it in greedily, tighten and loosen, just like her hands when she wants her and can’t say it. Sex has never been like this. No wonder she has no ability to think about anything else. Now that she knows she can make her feel like this she’s completely useless, just a soft wet yielding vessel of horny desperate longing who does nothing but want all of her holes filled by Vi.

“Thank you,” she whispers, and Vi clutches her even tighter in her arm, presses her body closer into her, and reaches.

“Oh my God, Cait, fuck. You’re so magnificent, I need you so fucking badly, fuck. How do you –”

“No, you –”

Between helpless murmurings they start laughing at themselves, Vi still thrusting into her rapturously.

“I’m so happy with you,” she proclaims huskily, and Caitlyn starts coming already almost despite herself, surges rolling through her as she cries out joyfully, still tasting laughter and kisses in her mouth.

She is about halfway through when urgent heavy slamming interrupts, an assault mounted against the door of the office, rattling the window in the frame.

What in the hell –

“Vi!” somebody yells, clearly freaking out. “Vi, it’s the cops! Enforcers are here! Vi!”

They part from each other as though someone threw a bucket of water on them. Caitlyn shakes her head and smoothes her dress down, trying to figure out how to inhabit her body. Vi grabs her cheek and looks at her meaningfully before rushing to the door and opening it.

It’s Powder at the door. “Vi,” she says. “It’s enforcers. They’re rounding people up and taking them to the station!”

Powder ignores Caitlyn as they leave the office, thank god.

It’s bad out there. The crowd is in total disarray, trying to disperse, and there are cops putting folks in handcuffs in every corner of the gym, barking orders. Mel and Jayce come up to Caitlyn immediately.

“You’re not going to like this,” Mel says, and Caitlyn has no idea what she could mean until she sees, and then it is very clear to her.

Maddie Nolen strolls up officiously, her spine ramrod straight, wearing that fuckass hat.

“Lot of people here violating parole,” she says nonchalantly, hands behind her back, staring Caitlyn down.

“Maddie, what the fuck,” Jayce says.

“Who the fuck is this?” Vi demands.

Caitlyn’s stomach hurts unbelievably badly when she has to say, “Officer Maddie Nolen. My ex-girlfriend.”

Vi stares at Maddie, and then looks at Caitlyn darkly, sucking in her teeth. She grimaces. “I told you the girlfriends don’t like me.”

Chapter Text

A Thing That Wants
Chapter 6

“No. We will not be tolerating this. Get them out.”

“Excuse me, ma’am, but you can’t just –”

“Oh, but I can just,” Caitlyn says sharply, her gaze daggers. She doesn’t care that she’s three shots deep still poured into her party dress – if anything, that’s making her feel more righteous. To say nothing of the human rights violations, this whole mess caused Vi to pull her hand out of her mid-orgasm. Directly after winning her title fight. Maddie caused that. They are going to see the full wrath of Caitlyn Kiramman here in this police station tonight.

To her right, she hears Vi take a breath.

Caitlyn glances at her, and it means what she thinks it means: She’s a little scared of Caitlyn like this, and a little turned on.

“These are criminals who have violated parole –”

“Show me,” she demands.

“The paperwork is still being processed –”

“Well, I have all night now!” she snaps irritably. “Congratulations, you’ve made this my plan for the rest of the evening. You process, and I will get them out just as fast as you process.”

“Some of them will have to post bail –”

“Isn’t it fortunate that I have a great deal of money!”

The poor idiot behind the desk looks around searchingly, seeking help from any corner. And it is now that Maddie re-emerges, after having disappeared as soon as she escorted all of the detainees into the station. Her expression is tight and close.

“You didn’t have all this money before,” she says quietly.

“No,” Caitlyn responds – not disagreeing, just refusing the premise of the conversation. “First of all, of course I did, I just didn’t feel comfortable using it for myself. Second of all, what are we even doing here. Why are you doing this?”

Vi has been trying her very best to not draw attention or make matters worse, just observing with a blameless expression of open curiosity, and also, Caitlyn thinks, looking very handsome in her little outfit. But now Maddie turns on her.

“Sure right I don’t like you,” Maddie says hotly. “Cait and I were supposed to be in an open relationship! There was no reason for her to dump me for you!”

“You arrested a dozen people because I dumped you?!” Caitlyn roars.

“Cait –”

“Do you want to have this conversation here in front of your peers? Fine. You’ve already ruined my evening and put a stain on your career, and after this I hope to never talk to you again, so let’s go ahead and do this. I,” she says, slowly, leaving a pause for emphasis, “don’t owe you anything, regardless of the format of our relationship. That includes both my body and my money. Is it so hard to believe that I met this person and I found that I cared for her so deeply that I realized there was no point in continuing on in our relationship?”

“You’ve known her for a week!”

“That’s been enough! I’ve lived more in that week than in the two years I was with you! I knew from the second I met her that I wanted her, and I wanted her in a way that made it clear that I had never actually wanted you to begin with. You have been nothing but a nuisance to me since that moment! Does it feel better to hear me say this out loud to you?”

Vi looks as though she has swallowed something extremely viscous and needs to pay attention or she might choke.

“Cait,” Maddie says plaintively. “We built a life together.”

“It is a life I do not want. And you are making it abundantly clear why!”

It is a long moment as they stand there silently, letting the truth ring out. Hopefully it’s making an impact.

Finally, possibly tired of this, and certainly tired of Maddie, Mel says, “Maddie, look at her. Do you really think you stand a chance?”

Caitlyn, Maddie, Mel, Jayce, and the idiot behind the desk turn to look at Vi, her countenance completely innocent, her hands in her pockets, the sleeves on her expensive little t-shirt tailored to perfectly accentuate her bulging biceps, her face splashed with developing bruises and her nostrils still a little ruddy with the ghost of dried blood. She flinches a little under the attention, and makes a “Who, me?” expression before –

Before Maddie lunges at her, growling. “You bitch!” she shouts, arms out to – what, choke her? She barely makes it to Vi’s personal space before Jayce has her wrapped up in his arms, hugging her from behind as she stomps and squirms.

“Can we get some help here?” Caitlyn barks, and the front desk idiot scrambles from his seat and races towards the back of the station, and the five of them are left there alone.

“Really Maddie, this is absurd,” Mel says, as though she were her elementary school teacher. “I hope you realize that you’re behaving this way in front of journalists. It’s not just people from the undercity you’re trying to abuse without witnesses.”

“Though it makes me wonder how you’ve conducted yourself up until now,” Caitlyn says sharply.

“It could be an interesting subject for an article,” Mel agrees.

“And you’re trying to beat up a boxer,” Jayce adds, not unkindly, though the words themselves sound unavoidably patronizing.

Maddie sags in Jayce’s arms. Soon enough the front desk idiot comes back with two other enforcers, one of whom goes to push Jayce and then checks himself, recognizing him.

“Mr. Talis,” he says. “Ah, would you mind …”

Jayce opens his arms to let Maddie go, and she steps away and glares at him darkly.

“I’ve had enough of all of you,” she says. “But these suspects are still going to be processed. They’ve violated the curfew of their parole.”

“By one minute,” Vi says venomously.

Maddie turns to her, her face imperious. Her lip curls. “One minute is enough.” She turns on her heel and storms off, her two stooges following after her. One gives Vi a shitty look on the way out.

“I am so sorry that this is how the evening has turned out,” Caitlyn says to Vi once she’s gone. “I’ll be doing everything within my power to make sure that the impact this has on these women is minimal. It’s such an astonishingly petty thing to do …”

“She’s gotten too complacent thinking she deserves you,” Mel says, apparently not even trying to sound like a bitch. “This seems to have come as quite a shock to her.”

Vi takes in a deep breath and looks at Caitlyn. “I don’t blame you for this,” she says. “I don’t see how you possibly could have predicted it. But it is going to make these women’s lives harder having a parole violation on their records. For some of them it could mean going back to jail.”

“Not if I have anything to say about it,” Caitlyn says firmly.

“It might be time to talk to Cassandra,” Jayce suggests slowly.

“Vi,” Caitlyn says, tentatively, brows pinched, a bit of a wince on her face. “How would you like to meet my mother?”

Vi looks at Jayce, looks at Mel, scratches the back of her head, displaying her exquisite bicep and adorably embarrassed expression before she turns back to Caitlyn. She coughs out a laugh. “Going for the lesbian speed run, I see.”

Mel snorts.

*****

Caitlyn and Vi stay through the night to ensure that the women are processed swiftly and take them home in waves. Caitlyn sits as the passenger in Vi’s car and hears the stories of how they have ended up imprisoned to begin with. Petty thefts to make ends meet, public intoxication while experiencing homelessness, self-defense against domestic violence from partners they couldn’t afford to live apart from. Money, money, money. All these things for want of just a little bit of money.

She feels two responses in her body. One is old and familiar. It makes her sick to her stomach to witness this kind of suffering knowing full well that it is so unnecessary and that it is so far apart from anything that she is at risk of experiencing. The sick feeling is both compassion and guilt, a kind of shame and self-disgust about her own privilege that arises in the face of such vulnerability, how unfair and unethical it is, how soundly protected she is from it.

It feels, in a word, wrong, and the wrongness has a shape and weight that fits easily into the grooves of her experience, as a reflection of her undeservingness.

But a different response arises, too, something newer but also becoming familiar. It is an excitement at the possibilities. All of these women suffering for the want of a little money and she has a little money for all of them. She has a lot of money. She is no longer pretending she doesn’t in an effort to avoid the first feeling.

An idea is taking shape by the time dawn rolls around and Vi is dropping her off at Jayce’s. Their rounds finally done, obligations fulfilled, night bleeding into morning, Vi turns off the car and they turn to each other in silence.

“Crazy night,” Vi says eventually, and Caitlyn smiles ruefully, her hands in her lap.

“You know, Cupcake,” Vi goes on. “You said some really flattering things back there.”

“Yes,” Caitlyn says, unapologetically.

“Did you mean all that stuff?”

“Of course I did,” she says simply. “I told you all of that ‘stuff’ before. I just wasn’t such a bitch about it.”

Vi’s lips quirk upwards. “It was kind of hot. Watching you be such a bitch.”

Caitlyn smiles crookedly in response. “I noticed you thought as much.”

Now they are smiling at each other, comfortable in the silence, as the sky begins to lighten. They begin to scoot closer to each other, and Vi reaches out for her face with a tender expression. Caitlyn feels her breath catch before they lean in to kiss each other, her hands reaching out for the back of Vi’s head, sighing into her. They kiss sweetly, contentedly, unhurriedly. They’ve hardly had a moment to savor each other this way, this leisurely. It is lovely, it is luscious but also so peaceful, so fortifying. Caitlyn allows herself to sink into it for a quite a while before she has a thought.

“Vi?”

“Mmhmm?”

“Would you want to do something absolutely depraved like fuck in a bed? We haven’t once fucked in an actual bed.”

Vi turns away and starts laughing into her shoulder. After the first round of laughter, a fresh round arrives, as though the events of the week hit her all at once. Now Caitlyn is laughing too, and their bodies shake with mirth in each other’s arms with how ridiculous their courtship has been. Is that the word? It is more than fucking.

She likes her so, so much.

“Yeah,” Vi says, finally, after letting out a deep breath. “Yeah, you’re right.”

“Not right now. I know you’ve got to get back, and I don’t feel we’d have enough privacy at Jayce’s.”

“And you owe me a date,” Vi says playfully, and checks her with her shoulder.

Caitlyn grabs her face in both hands and kisses her. “Yes,” she says, gladly.

They take each other in for a moment.

“Monday?” Caitlyn says. “I have an idea. I need to talk to my mother. We might benefit from your wisdom, if you wouldn’t mind sharing your time with us.”

“Of course. Should I be nervous?”

“Only a little. She's been on very good behavior recently.”

Vi grins at her. “That’s not much of a date, Cupcake.”

“And then I’ll take you out after!” Caitlyn laughs.

“Okay,” Vi says, nodding. “Deal.”

They remain touching, still, looking at each other, a little embarrassed at how hard it is to pull away. Their expressions grow a bit more self-conscious.

“Okay,” Vi says. “We break in 3.”

“Okay.”

“3 … 2 … 1 .. “

Caitlyn grabs Vi and kisses her again, hard, for a few seconds, and then grabs the door handle and ejects herself from the car, laughing. “See you Monday, Violet!”

This time she does look back, and Vi is regarding her with an expression of pure, unadulterated pleasure, her face orange and pink in the light of the rising sun.

*****

She sneaks into Jayce’s, padding in barefoot. She thinks about the last time Vi dropped her off at her own place and how she walked barefoot upstairs to her own apartment, dreading seeing Maddie.

She feels a wave of disgust rolling through her at the mere thought of the little creep.

She has to get her stuff out of that apartment. She was dead serious when she said she never wanted to speak to her again.

“Cait.”

She jumps, startled. Jayce has been drowsing on the sofa in the living room next to the entryway, and groggily regards her with one open eye. “Everybody out?” he croaks. “Everything okay?”

She regards him with surprise. “You waited up for me?”

“I was worried,” he says simply. “You’ve been through a lot this week.”

She goes over and sits down next to him on the floor. “That’s very kind of you. Everything is good for now. We’re speaking to Mother tomorrow.”

“Maddie won’t know what hit her.”

“I’m thinking of something on a larger scale than that. But I need everything out of that apartment. Or just everything new. I don’t care. I’m astonished at what happened tonight. What a little cretin.” She sighs. “How did things go with Mel?”

He makes a noise. “I think she’s fucking your girlfriend’s trainer. But tonight was too hectic for that to even rank.”

She winces. “Did you have an alright time?”

He chuckles tiredly. “I had a great time. What an eventful evening.” From his vantage lying down on the sofa he regards her languidly. “You didn’t say Vi’s not your girlfriend.”

“Whatever,” she says. “I basically declared my devotion to her in the police station.”

“It was kind of lovely,” he agrees.

“You like her,” she observes.

“What’s not to like? She’s hot, tough, and kind. A real upgrade. You did good.”

A smile catches at the side of her mouth. “Thank you,” she says. And then: “I did, didn’t I.”

“Well, apparently you can thank Mel. But it was your charms that reeled her in.”

She sniffs. “Mel couldn’t resist gloating to you.”

He sighs and rolls his eyes. “Why would she start now?”

They’re silent for a moment, and Caitlyn feels the brightness of the day grow and then stick in her belly. It feels like something gooey and molten. “Jayce? I just want to thank you for how kind you’ve been to me this week. I’ve been very lucky to have you looking after me.”

“Oh, Sprout. Of course. I take my big brother duties very seriously.”

Over and over again now she is faced with the people in her life caring for and about her. Has it always felt this way? Or is she freshly attuned to it, now that she is open to both anguish and joy?

Her face is very soft. “Well. I appreciate it.” She sighs. “I’m going to go see what sleep I can get before I look at apartments. Hopefully I’ll be out of your hair soon.”

“It’s no rush, Cait. Get some rest. Thanks for the lively evening.”

“Thank you. And thank you for restraining Maddie at the station. I have no idea what she thought she was doing trying to assault Vi.”

“I’m glad we didn’t get to find out. It’s like a Chihuahua attacking a pit bull.”

Caitlyn laughs hard and very unkindly at that, and goes off to bed.

*****

Her mother agrees to meet at 5pm, dinner hour for the elderly, at her favored bistro where she met with Caitlyn last. Caitlyn is wearing a structured navy blue sleeveless jumpsuit with a plunging v neck accentuated by an attention-grabbing gold chain, chunky boots barely peeking out beneath the long, stiff wide-legged seams. She waits out front for Vi to arrive and is treated to seeing the other woman walk up in another sharp t-shirt, this one black, tucked into a pair of tan corduroys featuring a braided brown belt that matches her boots, all set off by a red twill chore coat.

Caitlyn cannot resist touching her, resting her hands on her chest, tugging the collar of the chore coat. “I’ve been spending all this time seeing you at the gym, I had no idea you were such a sharp dresser,” she says, and Vi places her hands on her waist as they easily tuck into each other.

“I’m meeting your mom,” she says, sounding a little gruff, a little bit distracted looking at her. “I’m going on a first date with a total smoke show. I figured I’d make an effort.”

“I’m glad I waited outside for you,” Caitlyn says, “because I need to kiss you.”

“I’m glad you need to kiss me,” Vi says, “because you look so good I might die if you don’t.”

They kiss as chastely as they can manage on the street out front of a bistro at 5pm about to meet her mother. It is not all that chastely, truth be told. The heat of Vi’s breath seems to seep right into her lungs, deep into her ribs, and she feels her shoulders sink down her body. When a little sigh escapes Caitlyn pulls back as if she’s been shocked, and gives Vi a look, shaking her head. Vi gives her a rueful grin.

“Well, Cupcake. Are you ready for me to meet your mom?”

“Are you ready?”

“I guess we’re about to find out.”

They are led upstairs to the relatively private nook where Caitlyn is accustomed to meeting Cassandra. She stands, and Caitlyn takes in her cordial expression, notices a bit of a sparkle in her eye. “Don’t you both look wonderful,” she says, evidently meaning it, and for a moment Caitlyn sees herself and Vi through her mother’s eyes – a handsome couple.

She likes how that feels.

“A pleasure to meet you, Mrs. Kiramman,” Vi says charmingly as Cassandra brings her in for a brief, polite hug. Caitlyn comes in for her hug as well before they both sit down.

“Oh, the pleasure is all mine,” Cassandra says as they settle. “I so enjoyed Caitlyn’s article about you. What marvelous work you’re doing in the community. And I understand I have you to thank for her ending things with the last one.”

“Mother!”

Cassandra gives her a cheeky look. “Tell me I’m wrong.”

Vi’s eyebrows are very high on her face, but she seems to have her wits about her. “I appreciate that,” she says, as smoothly as she can, and then pauses for a moment. “That one doesn’t seem to have many fans,” she adds, very diplomatically.

“That’s part of what we’re here to discuss today, am I correct?”

“I’m afraid so,” Caitlyn says dryly. “I gave you the basic rundown, which is that she raided the gym during the celebration of Vi’s victory on Saturday night.”

“And congratulations,” Cassandra says smoothly. “I hope you don’t mind I took the liberty of ordering champagne for the table.”

“It also being a community center for formerly incarcerated women, there were quite a few vulnerable people there for her and her goons to arrest for parole violations.”

Cassandra nods. “Truly rotten work,” she says. “To further ruin the lives of these women and their families out of spite over losing you, Caitlyn. Simply horrid.”

“All of these women are home safe for now, but some of them will be facing increased monitoring or possible return to prison. And I find that unacceptable.”

Cassandra nods firmly. “Indeed. What are your thoughts?”

“First of all, it is clear that these women need legal support, either via pro bono representation or through representation compensated through a legal defense fund. I find the second appealing due to its ongoing sustainability, given the resources our family would be able to devote to such an undertaking, and the flexibility of the discretion available to the director.”

“Oh?” Cassandra is visibly on the edge of her seat. She leans in towards Caitlyn with an expression of effortful patience. “And who would that be?”

Caitlyn cannot resist just a little smugness. She sits back in her seat and folds her arm across her chest and juts her chin out with a determined expression. “Me.”

Vi stares at her in shock while her mother claps her hands in glee. “Oh Caitlyn,” she says, delighted. “How fantastic! I would be delighted to do anything I can to support you in this endeavor. There are a number of both law and financial firms with a history of social justice work and a strong relationship with our family, and I would be happy to connect you and be in the room to get this going –” She catches herself, and puts her hands up thoughtfully. “Or not, if you would prefer to do it yourself.”

“No,” Caitlyn says, “I would appreciate your expertise. The second thing is … when Vi and I were taking all of these women home and I learned their stories, it became so clear to me how just a little bit of money would have prevented so many of these things from happening. And then I was thinking of how every month I’m given an amount of money that would change these women’s lives.”

Vi is still looking at her wordlessly, seemingly aware she’s totally unprepared for whatever comes next.

“So I would like some of that money to be turned into microgrants for the women of Zaun. I’m thinking under the auspices of the same organization. And possibly to be administered by … someone from the community.” Here she looks at Vi.

Vi is completely overwhelmed. Her eyes are big and soft, her brow knitted, many different competing emotions on her face. She looks between them both, unsure where to seek refuge or how to respond.

“Does that sound good to you, Vi?” Caitlyn asks softly. “Does that make sense? Is there someone that would be better suited? Can you let me know what I’ve overlooked?”

“Cait,” Vi says, this pained expression still on her face. “This is a bit much.”

“In a bad way?”

“No! No, it’s just … a lot to take in.”

“Oh,” Caitlyn says, uncertain. She tries to hide the hurt from her face. “Of course. Well, you don’t have to decide right now. I just thought … it might dovetail neatly with the work you’re doing at the gym.” She opens her mouth, realizes she has nothing useful to say, and then closes it.

“I think … I’m touched, but it’s going to take me a little more to understand what exactly you’re proposing.” Vi’s face is clouded with the displeasure of disappointing her. “Can we talk more about it later?”

Caitlyn nods. “Yes. Of course.”

Cassandra looks at them both and hums contentedly to herself. “Darling, this is a lovely proposal. The basic shape of it seems sound to me and I’m happy to help you accomplish it. Does this mean you’re leaving journalism?”

“I’m not sure,” Caitlyn says, still looking at Vi. “This might be a more direct path to helping people. But I might have one last story in me about enforcer abuse of power … possibly with an emphasis on one enforcer in particular.”

Cassandra nods in satisfaction. “I should say so.” She raises her head, and looks to her glass. “Well, let’s make a toast. To new beginnings.”

*****

After they part ways with Cassandra, outside the restaurant, Vi grabs Caitlyn’s hand.

“Hey,” she says warmly.

Caitlyn looks at her, obviously in pain. “I didn’t mean to put you on the spot or make you uncomfortable. I think possibly I didn’t –”

“No, Cait, I know that. I’m not upset with you. I just want to talk about it more.” She squeezes her hand and looks at her with soft eyes, a gentle expression. “Can you trust that? Do you still want to take me on this date?”

Caitlyn feels herself unclench bit by bit, vertebrae by vertebrae. Not a lot, but enough. She nods. “Yes,” she says, and squeezes back. “I had an idea … do you want to see my new place? It’s not – I’m not just trying to get you back to mine –”

“Cait.” Vi is practically vibrating with sympathy. “I’d love to.”

When they get to her apartment she is still stressed and also a little embarrassed. “I found I had quite a lot of preferences after all,” she says as they enter the building.

Vi is gently amused. “You don’t say.”

“I needed the building to be old. That is quite soothing to me. And original hardwood floors. I find laminate to be charmless.”

“Of course,” Vi says, easily humoring her.

She finds herself steamrolling on. “It turns out I have a fondness for exposed brick and exposed beams – I quite like the organic materials. And then of course large windows and lots of light.”

“Mmhmm.”

By now she is blushing quite profusely. “And I wanted a kitchen that I can host in. And then if I have all of that it makes sense to have an open floor plan … and so at the end of all of that here we are.” She opens the door to the loft and it is all as Caitlyn described. The huge windows reveal close foliage, the frames shrouded by limbs and leaves, casting green light inside. The brick and the wood and the light and the spaciousness all combine to create a calming atmosphere, or it might, if she hadn’t spent the past few minutes listing all of her expensive desires in front of this person she has just made uncomfortable with her money.

“A former mill on the river that’s been converted to lofts. With a deck and a pool and a rooftop garden. Where I am hoping you will want to join me for a drink and dessert.”

Vi takes it all in. The big open room with the kitchen, the stairs leading up to the loft. She walks over to the kitchen island, hops up to perch there, and sits with her legs wide. She pats them invitingly as they dangle off the side. “Cait. Come here.”

Caitlyn winces over and brings herself in the curve of Vi’s legs, stiffly. Vi tugs her in close, wraps an arm around her, brings a hand to her face, kisses her temple, her cheekbone, the bridge of her nose, the center of her forehead. She kisses the soft spot in front of her ear, the point of her jaw. She kisses from her jaw down to her exposed neck, places a firm one in the dip between her collarbones. Now Caitlyn finally sighs and sags into her, placing a hand on the back of Vi’s neck as she sinks her nose into the top of her head and breathes in deeply, trying to figure out what she is feeling besides scared.

“Cait,” Vi says, pulling back to look her in the eyes. “Explain to me what just happened. You’re going to pay for lawyers for the women at my gym, and other women, and keep paying for them? You’re going to give women money to make ends meet so that they’re not as vulnerable to enforcers? Your money? Why?”

Caitlyn hardly even has to think before the words start pouring out. “Because it is so clearly the right thing to do. Because I want to. Because I never wanted the money to begin with, and this is the only reason worth having it. Because Maddie being there is my fault, and I need to make sure that she can never do that again. That hopefully, maybe, no one can. Because through some quirk of birth I have the advantages to be able to actually help, and I finally realized that pretending that isn’t the case is just avoiding my responsibility.” Her face is pained. “Am I wrong? Is this not a good way to be of use? Am I just completely sheltered being absolutely conceited thinking I’ve figured out a way to be helpful to the women of Zaun?”

“No! No, Cait, this is a good idea. But –” She shakes her head, a few different expressions cycling across her face. She keeps starting to say something and then sighing. Finally, she says –

“This is very close to home for me. This is my life and my community and my work.” She takes a deep breath and then rushes forward with it. “What if you don’t want to stick it out? What if things don’t work out between us? I didn’t earn this.”

“Oh, Vi,” Caitlyn says, her brows furrowed, her hand still reaching out, fingers still holding the back of her neck. “You can’t earn this because I didn’t earn it. It can’t be earned. I just had no idea what to do with it until now … because until I met you, I knew nothing of the lives of the people who could benefit from it.”

Vi looks at her with a very vulnerable expression. She repeats, quietly, “What if you don’t want to stick it out?”

Caitlyn can only call this feeling agony. It feels like a hollow tunnel running through her. But there is a sweetness there, too, at how tender she is, that hurts in kind of a delicious way. “Then I’ll be disgustingly, unbelievably devastated, completely heartbroken, and I might honestly want to die,” she says candidly. “But I won’t punish you. We can make it so that I can’t. We can write it in the bylaws together.” She pauses, pulls her hand back to rest on Vi’s chest. “If you want to.”

Vi lowers her head to her chest and presses a kiss to Caitlyn’s hand, leaves her face there for a few breaths before she looks back up at her. Now there is a hint of humor in her eyes. “So what is it you want me to do? Figure out who to give your money to?”

Caitlyn feels her lips tug up a bit. “Yes,” she says. “That’s exactly right.”

“And that’s a job?”

“Yes. You would get paid to do it. And it shouldn’t take up too much of your time.”

“And I could even say, damn, this fucked up old gym needs some money.”

“You could. I would even like you to. We’d have to fill out the right paperwork, but I’d like you to.”

“Damn, Cupcake.” Vi grins and shakes her head in disbelief. “And now you wanna take me to your rooftop garden for drinks and dessert?”

“Very much so, yes. I would like to.”

“Okay. I accept.” Vi suddenly swings her legs out around Caitlyn’s and pulls her in close. “I could get used to this dating a rich girl thing.”

“Good,” Caitlyn says teasingly, but firmly. “You’d better.”

When Vi kisses her this time, she feels every ounce of tension rush out of her body, as though a drain has been pulled. Her spine loosens and she sags a little, feeling herself grow stupid. She melts into her with utter relief and need, feeling so, so heavy, immediately so dazed. She pulls back, as if to accuse Vi of casting some spell on her, and sees her eyes are also lidded with want, her mouth hanging open. It has overtaken them both suddenly.

“What –”

Vi grabs the back of her neck and closes her hand just a little, softly clenching her fist in Caitlyn’s hair, kissing her hungrily, a little groan slipping out of her. The tugging of Caitlyn’s hair has her breathless, already biddable. She moans back into her mouth, teasing her tongue with her own, darting against it, driving into her with force. She feels her body pressed against Vi’s, how solid and dense she is, how thick and rugged, and wants and wants and wants. She aches to be completely filled and enveloped. She brings her arms around her neck, squeezes into her tightly, letting out a long sigh of contented surrender.

It hurt them both badly to be at odds, it seems.

“Cait?”

“Hhm?”

“Do you have a bed up there?”

“What about our date?”

“After,” she grunts. “I need you now. If that’s okay.”

“Yes,” she says, eyes half closed, breathing deep, limbs heavy. “Yes, please. Yes. How do you want me?”

“Mmm,” Vi says, a little urgently, a noise that means: badly. “I want you on your belly for me. I want your ass up for me. I want to feel every inch of you beneath me.”

Now she is throbbing. Now her cunt is hot and slippery. She hums happily. “You want me naked and helpless for you? You want me face down and eager?”

“Yes,” Vi whispers hoarsely. “I want to feel your ass beneath my hips. I want you to present your dripping little hole for me to fuck like you know just how good it is.”

Caitlyn swallows at that, and then holds her gaze as she unhooks the chain and then slowly pushes each shoulder of her jumpsuit down, one by one. It drops and pools around her feet, revealing her full nakedness.

Vi is stunned speechless.

Caitlyn continues to look her in the eye as she reaches down for her wetness, brings her fingers up glistening, and anoints Vi’s beautiful bottom lip.

Caitlyn watches Vi’s eyes roll into the back of her head as she hungrily, unselfconsciously licks Caitlyn off of her own lip.

“Cupcake,” she rasps, bringing her chin down to fix her with a feverish look. “I need all of you.”

Now they fall on each other. What a pleasure to tug Vi’s chore coat off while trying to keep her tongue in her mouth, Vi wriggling her shoulders back and forth to get her arms free. Now Caitlyn is roughly pulling her t-shirt out of her pants as Vi grasps at her soft naked ribcage with her rough, calloused hand, sliding the meat of her palm up to the sensitive swell beneath her breast. She moans helplessly into Vi’s mouth at that, but lifts the t-shirt up anyway, and as she peels it up Vi’s muscled stomach and chest and over her brawny arms she realizes this is the first time she has seen her with her shirt off, and her eyes just about fall out of her head.

“Oh my god.”

Vi scoops her up in her arms and takes her upstairs, gently deposits her in the bed, and takes off her shoes, her only remaining article of clothing. Now she is nude on her back looking up at Vi standing by the side of the bed. Vi goes to unbuckle her belt and Caitlyn is mute, wide-eyed, awe-struck.

“Get on your belly for me, okay?”

She takes a breath and wordlessly rolls over, feeling surrender roll all the way through her.

She hears Vi step out of her pants and boots. She feels a big warm calloused hand come to rest on the curve of her ass and hears a groan of satisfaction. “Fuck,” Vi says reverently. “Look at you. You’re perfect.”

Caitlyn feels herself get even wetter at that, and so does as she was told, and presents her dripping pussy for Vi.

The sensation that comes next can only be described as heavenly. Vi’s weight, her warmth, the pressure of her. Her soft skin, her solid muscles. She feels her hips come to rest atop her ass, her chest press into her back. She feels Vi purposefully pull her hair to one side and place hot kisses on the back of her neck, making her shiver.

She feels Vi’s wetness dripping down onto hers.

“I have a strap in the bedside stand,” she murmurs. Just to be helpful.

“Hmm,” Vi answers. “Is that so? You want to be filled up?”

Caitlyn whimpers.

“Ask me.”

“Please.”

She can feel Vi’s pussy spilling strands of slick onto her clit. Vi thrusts, just once, pressing into her slowly, sighing right behind her ear, her hot breath sending chills down her spine.

“Please what,” she whispers, patiently.

“Please fuck me,” Caitlyn responds, just a bit pathetically.

“How do you want me?”

“Inside.”

“What do you want inside?”

Caitlyn has no idea why she is suddenly shy now. She has said deranged things with her inside of her, whispered the most abundantly sensual praise like a prayer to her. Maybe it is something about being on her belly. Maybe it is something about having to ask. She feels her face get so flushed when she asks for it, her cunt pulsing so hard.

“Your cock, Violet. Please. I want to be full with you.”

Vi can only grunt at that, and get to work.

Soon Vi has the strap on, her divine weight has returned, and the shaft of the cock is sliding against her opening as Vi grinds her hips against her. She presses back against it, and Vi grabs a pillow. “Arch your slutty little back for me,” she commands softly, and then places the pillow in the space beneath her hips, and presses her down into the mattress, hole propped up and fuckable.

Surrender. Caitlyn melts.

And then she feels the head of Vi’s cock slip inside her, and she starts to moan, softly at first. But when Vi enters her completely, and the full weight of her body comes to rest on her, and Vi is panting her effort into her ear, the moans are not soft.

“Vi,” she cries out, gratefully. Being skin to skin with her is sublime, she is utterly blissed out, she feels smug and self-satisfied as receives the woman pumping inside her, serene. The pressure of her body, the soothing weight, the girth of her cock, has her conquered and capitulating. She feels the most relaxed she’s felt since she pulled her hand out last. “You’re so good,” she croons, singing some hymn she’s starting to learn by heart. “You’re so good. I need you. I need all my holes filled by you, I need all of you, I need you inside all of me.”

Vi pants into her ear, grunting low, pumping hard. She wraps an arm around her waist and slides an arm beneath her chest and grabs her shoulder, gripping her tight, curling atop her and thrusting into her intently. With each grunt Caitlyn can feel her bottom out inside of her, fill her up completely. “I’ve got you,” she hums soothingly. “I’ve got you, Cupcake. Let me take care of you. Let me make you feel good. Let me make you happy.”

“You do,” Caitlyn breathes immediately, helplessly. “Thank you. Thank you. You make me so happy. Thank you.”

The arm beneath her waist is so tight, pulling her hips down onto Vi’s cock each time she pumps into her. She feels pinned down and completely cared for. All she has to do is be here, and take it.

With each thrust she feels it build, the inevitability of her climax, each pump driving bliss into her, building and building. There’s nothing for her to do but endure it now. “Fuck, Vi, I’m going to – fuck –”

Vi clutches her tight, presses into every inch of her body, pushes her cock in as far as Caitlyn can handle. “That’s right, that’s right Cupcake. Come for me, show me how good it feels to have me inside you. Show me.”

Caitlyn is bucking, writhing into the mattress, grabbing at Vi’s hands, arms, anything, pressing her ass up into her, tossing her head, crying out desperately, urgently, on and on. She groans, thrashing, clenching, erupting. When she seems to start to cool down Vi speeds up, fucks her fast and hard and another wave comes on top of the first, sputtering helpless little cries of overstimulation, her body twitching and eyes rolling up into her head.

Finally Vi lets her come down, kisses the side of her face, kisses her neck, kisses her back. She pulls out carefully, snakes around to kiss her mouth, kisses and kisses her. They kiss for a long time as Caitlyn comes down, and Caitlyn tucks herself into her body, comes to rest on her chest.

“Mm,” Caitlyn says happily, snuggling into her neck. “This is good. This is a good part about fucking in a bed. Hard to cuddle on a desk.”

Vi’s hand is perched atop Caitlyn’s ass like a magnet, gently testing it, stroking her, tensing just her fingers, squeezing so softly. “This is good,” she says in a low voice. She paddles the globe of Caitlyn’s ass gently with her big paw, just bringing the weight down on it, possessively, approvingly. She grunts appreciatively, brings her palm down for an exploratory smack, and caresses the little sting away. Smilingly, as though struck by her own luck, she says: “This is very good.”

Caitlyn shifts and pushes herself up, swings a long leg over Vi’s torso. If she keeps fondling her like this she’ll need to get fucked again and she figures she has a job to do first. Now she is sitting astride her, wet pussy smearing into her belly, hair cascading down as she meets her gaze. Vi’s eyes are big at the sight of her there atop her, taking all of her in. She looks trapped, almost, by her lust.

“Can I take care of you?”

She sees Vi take a breath, let out a long exhale, and nod.

Her expression is so serious that Caitlyn feels almost a religious fervor to please her.

She leans down and kisses her sweet full lips, the corner of her mouth. She reverently places a string of warm kisses down her neck, her shoulders, her broad chest. She savors the smell of her skin, the smooth heat of it against her face. She shifts her weight down, straddles her leg, kisses the velvety expanse between Vi’s breasts, kisses her solar plexus. She groans in contentment as her mouth reaches Vi’s abs and hears her chuckle in response, both of them letting out little noises of pleasure. Now Caitlyn brings her hand to her mouth and fills it with her saliva.

She looks into Vi’s eyes as she brings her hand down and begins to stroke Vi’s cock.

She cannot resist smiling in satisfaction as Vi’s jaw drops and her brows work at the sight of Caitlyn’s hand gliding up and down her shaft, gently tugging and applying pressure to the base of it. Her elegant wrist artfully works the angles, the cock sliding in and out through her fist.

“Cait –”

It is a guttural sound, like a plea or a warning.

She shifts herself between her legs, looks up into her eyes, and brings her lips down to the head of Vi’s cock. It tastes of her own spit and pussy. Vi’s eyes are blazing and huge, and Caitlyn keeps her gaze as she brings her mouth down further, starting to bring the length of it towards her throat. She wraps a hand around the base and goes to work, her wet mouth filling up and spilling as she rocks her head up and down, sucking Vi’s cock, making her feel good.

Now she brings her other hand to Vi’s opening, and brings two fingers to her wetness.

The sound that Vi makes in response to that is wordless and gratifyingly pathetic.

When she reaches and drives her fingers home, Vi’s hips shoot up as if on their own and thrust her cock into the back of her throat.

Caitlyn really, really likes this.

She chokes for her, sputtering and gagging as Vi’s hips thrust into her mouth. She fucks her with her hand, driving deep, curling into her depths as she spills into her palm. Tears stream down her face as she opens her throat and takes her thrusts, timing the motions together. She wants Vi to feel each pump into her mouth deep inside her pussy.

She wants to say you can fuck me as hard as you want but her mouth is full so she shows her, opens her throat and chokes and chokes on her, saliva streaming from her mouth. She drives a third finger into Vi’s welcoming wetness, and fucks her hard, fucks her as hard as her mouth is being fucked.

Vi is overcome. Even her steady stream of praise and worship is winnowed down to just a few effortful words, delivered with each thrust. “Your sweet mouth – you feel – so good for me – what a good little hole – oh –”

Now her thrusts come faster and she can’t speak. Caitlyn can feel the urgency clenched around her hand, driving back into her throat. She can feel Vi building around her fingers, hear the whining hitch in her breathing as she gathers around Caitlyn’s hand, and pushes –

“Oh! Oh!” Vi is crying out helplessly, loud escalating moans, forceful exultations that turn into long, strangled pathetic whimpers. Caitlyn can feel her clench and unclench around her hand, her thrusts slow and hard into the back of her throat. She reaches up to caress her stomach and Vi grabs her hand, squeezing her one hand there and the other with her pussy, squeezing and squeezing until she finally sags, falling from Caitlyn’s mouth, spent.

She makes a final moan of astonishment and then sits up almost immediately to take Caitlyn into her arms, wonderingly, wiping the spit away from her mouth, the tears away from her eyes, kissing her face.

“Cait,” she says, wrapping her arms around her, stroking her back, holding her face, brushing her thumb against her cheek, kissing and kissing her cheekbone. Kissing the corner of her moist eyelid, kissing the track of her tears. She pulls back to look at her and she looks almost overwhelmed with the need to care for her.

Her eyes are huge and moved. She says, “What a fucking marvel. What a miracle you are.”

Caitlyn smiles in satisfaction at that. “It’s just what you deserve.”

Vi can’t seem to find words to respond to that, so she kisses her, very slowly, very adoringly. Caitlyn collapses into her and they lean against each other, Caitlyn with her head on Vi’s shoulder as Vi strokes her hair.

*****

In the rooftop garden they sit on a blanket that Caitlyn has laid out. She has brought champagne, specialty chocolates, grapes and berries. Vi blushes to see each new thing removed from her tote bag and laid out on the blanket, clearly unable to believe her good fortune after how the afternoon has already gone. Before Vi can say anything, Caitlyn pours the wine and hands her a flute.

They raise to toast.

“What was it your mother said earlier? To new beginnings?”

“To new beginnings.”

Caitlyn takes in this creature in the golden evening sun, regarding her so adoringly, and seeks footing in her blessings. Jayce, Mel, her mother. Her body, her backbone, her fortune. To tell it one way, all she did this week was dump one woman and start seeing another. But it was so clear the moment it began that everything was about to change.

As if thinking along similar lines, Vi says, “What did you think of me when we first met?”

“That you were worryingly hot. That you seemed tough and smart, but also very sweet in a way that lowered my defenses at once.” Caitlyn swallows. That is what she thought. “That I needed to get to know you, and soon that I needed to touch you.”

Vi smiles knowingly, and nods. She knew that.

“And me?”

“Mm,” Vi says, considering. “That you were gorgeous. That you were a bit stiff in a way that was begging to be loosened up. That you were too smart for your own good.”

Caitlyn laughs. “What does that mean?”

Vi leans towards her. “That you were using too much of this,” she says, placing a single finger on her temple, “and not enough of this.” She brings her finger down to Caitlyn’s chest, leaves it to rest over her heart.

Caitlyn leans in, touches her hand, kisses her. “Or this,” she teases, bringing the hand down between her legs for a moment, squeezing her there.

Vi laughs into her mouth, pulls back. “No,” she agrees, still laughing. “It was pretty clear right away you hadn’t been using enough of that.”

Caitlyn blushes at her, happily embarrassed. Little risk of that anymore.

Vi fucks her so good she wants to give her everything.

“Cait?”

“Yes?”

“I know it’s too soon for a ‘what are we’ conversation, but I just wanna say I’m not interested in an open relationship. I hope that’s okay with you.”

“Violet? I think that’s absolutely wonderful.”

THE END