Chapter Text
Caitlyn Kiramman had hated Violet Lanes for as long as she could remember.
At least, that was what she called it.
Hatred was simple.
Hatred explained why, at nine years old, Caitlyn had dumped an entire bucket of lake water over Vi’s head after Vi deliberately ruined her new shoes.
It explained why Vi had spent the following summer hiding Caitlyn’s things in increasingly ridiculous places until Caitlyn retaliated by telling Vander exactly who had broken the window behind his bar.
It explained school competitions that became arguments, arguments that became shoving matches, and shoving matches that usually ended with someone dragging them apart.
It explained why, even now, Caitlyn could pick Vi’s laugh out of a crowded room before she could identify half the voices belonging to her own friends.
Hatred.
Obviously.
And Vi hated her right back.
Caitlyn had never doubted that.
Vi had called her spoiled, uptight, pretentious, pampered, arrogant and—her personal favourite—a rich girl with a stick so far up her ass it ought to count as structural support.
Caitlyn, in return, had called Vi reckless, childish, obnoxious, uncivilised and once, during an especially vicious argument at seventeen, a walking cautionary tale with fists.
Vi hadn’t spoken to her for three weeks after that.
Caitlyn had enjoyed the silence.
Mostly.
University had provided an opportunity to grow out of this.
They had declined.
There were still competitions. Still arguments. Still mutual friends who made increasingly poor attempts to keep them at opposite ends of a table.
Tonight, however, something had gone wrong with the arrangement.
Because Violet was standing close enough that Caitlyn could count the freckles across her nose.
An activity she had never previously considered.
She disliked having it made available.
The party roared around them.
Music shook the hallway walls. Someone was shouting in the kitchen. From the sitting room came a cheer, followed by a crash and a silence that suggested a lamp had just become several smaller objects.
Neither of them looked.
Vi’s forearm was braced against the wall beside Caitlyn’s head.
Her other hand rested at Caitlyn’s hip.
Caitlyn could have stepped sideways.
There was room.
She had checked, then done nothing useful with the information.
They were both drunk.
Their conversation was perfectly coherent. Their judgement had become less impressive.
Vi smelled like whiskey.
Caitlyn suspected she smelled like gin.
They’d been arguing.
That part was unsurprising.
Vi had made a remark about Caitlyn’s friends. Caitlyn had suggested Vi might enjoy a conversation more if she occasionally let someone finish one.
Then Vi had accused her of looking down on everyone.
Caitlyn had accused Vi of assuming everyone was looking down on her because it saved her the trouble of admitting she had a chip on her shoulder the size of Piltover.
Vi had told her to go fuck herself.
Caitlyn had smiled and said, “Charming as ever.”
Vi had stepped closer.
Caitlyn had refused to step back.
A sound principle, poorly applied.
Now her back was against the wall, Vi’s hand was on her hip, and neither seemed prepared to explain how those developments related to the original disagreement.
“You’re fucking infuriating,” Vi said.
“So you’ve mentioned.”
“Could try listening.”
“Could try saying something worth hearing.”
Vi’s jaw tightened.
That should have been satisfying.
Usually, it was.
Caitlyn had spent years learning exactly how to make that happen. Vi was equally practised at returning the favour.
One more remark and they could finish this properly.
Instead, Vi’s thumb moved against her hip.
Once.
Caitlyn forgot the remark.
Vi noticed.
Her gaze sharpened, then dropped briefly to Caitlyn’s mouth.
“Oh.”
Caitlyn’s eyes narrowed.
“What?”
Vi looked back up.
“Nothing.”
“Then stop looking pleased with yourself.”
“Haven’t decided if I am yet.”
“How unusually cautious.”
Vi’s mouth curved.
Caitlyn looked at it.
A mistake.
Worse, a visible one.
Vi’s hand shifted at her hip, and Caitlyn caught the front of her shirt before she could decide whether the movement meant she was leaving.
Vi glanced down at Caitlyn’s fingers.
Then up.
For once, she looked genuinely surprised.
Caitlyn would have enjoyed it more if she’d had any idea what to do next.
“That’s my shirt,” Vi said.
“Observant.”
“You planning to give it back?”
“You’re still wearing it.”
“Yeah. That’s making this interesting.”
Caitlyn loosened her grip.
Not enough to release her.
Vi noticed that too.
“Bad idea, Cupcake.”
“Don’t call me that.”
“What would you prefer?”
“Silence. We’ve discussed it.”
“Not getting much of that yourself.”
“Violet.”
“Ooh.” Vi grinned. “Full name.”
Caitlyn put her free hand against Vi’s shoulder, intending to restore a little distance.
Vi glanced at it.
“Want me to move?”
The question was quieter than the others.
Caitlyn became abruptly aware that she was still holding Vi’s shirt.
An awkward detail.
She could hardly demand to be released from a situation she was personally maintaining.
Vi waited.
Caitlyn could see the quick beat of a pulse at her throat.
That helped.
Considerably.
“I’m deciding,” Caitlyn said.
Vi’s grin faltered.
Then returned, a little less steady.
“Take your time.”
“You seem impatient.”
“You seem to have a handful of my clothes.”
Caitlyn pulled her closer.
Not far.
Enough.
Vi’s forearm came away from the wall.
For a moment, they simply looked at each other.
Caitlyn’s heart was hammering. She was certain Vi could tell, which ought to have been sufficient reason to stop.
Instead, she found herself watching Vi swallow.
“You want me to kiss you?” Vi asked.
The arrogance of her.
The rather irritating accuracy.
“You think very highly of yourself.”
“Didn’t answer me.”
Caitlyn kissed her.
Hard.
Vi made a startled sound against her mouth.
Caitlyn had just enough time to enjoy that before Vi’s hand tightened at her waist and pulled her closer.
Then she had other things to occupy her.
Vi recovered quickly.
Of course she did.
Her free hand settled against Caitlyn’s jaw, and the kiss changed angle, became something Caitlyn hadn’t prepared for when she’d decided to win whatever this was.
She hadn’t prepared for any of it.
That was becoming apparent.
Vi kissed with an impatience Caitlyn recognised, but the familiarity ended there. Knowing how Vi argued had provided very little practical training for the way her mouth moved.
Caitlyn resented the disadvantage.
She caught Vi’s bottom lip between her teeth.
Vi drew back a fraction.
“Did you just bite me?”
“You were there.”
Vi stared at her.
Then laughed.
Caitlyn felt the sound beneath the hand still resting against her shoulder.
“Should’ve known.”
“Would you like to keep discussing it?”
“No.”
For once, they agreed on something.
Vi kissed her again.
Caitlyn’s fingers slid from her shirt to the back of her neck.
The short hair there was soft.
An unnecessary discovery.
She made it twice.
Vi’s breath caught.
Caitlyn smiled against her mouth.
“What?” Vi murmured.
“Nothing.”
“Liar.”
Caitlyn turned them, guiding Vi backwards across the narrow hallway until Vi’s back met the opposite wall.
Vi let her.
That was perhaps the most distracting part.
The woman who could turn choosing a restaurant into a contest was looking at Caitlyn as though she wanted to see what she would do.
Caitlyn moved closer.
Vi’s smile returned slowly.
“There she is.”
“Oh, shut up.”
“Make me.”
Caitlyn did.
It was a childish response to a childish invitation.
She could examine that later.
For now, Vi’s hands were at her waist, and Caitlyn was discovering that making her stop talking was considerably more rewarding than she’d anticipated.
Someone passed the mouth of the hallway.
Caitlyn heard footsteps, then a voice calling for someone else.
She broke the kiss.
Vi’s hands loosened immediately.
For a second, they stared at each other.
Vi’s mouth was slightly open. Her hair was a mess where Caitlyn had touched it.
Caitlyn knew she couldn’t look much better.
This was a terrible idea.
Not because she didn’t want it.
That particular defence had become unavailable.
Tomorrow, Vi would almost certainly say something unbearable. Caitlyn would respond. They would remember all the reasons they didn’t do things like this.
Tonight, however, Vi’s thumb brushed her waist again.
Caitlyn looked down at it.
Then back up.
“Not here.”
Vi went still.
“Okay.”
Caitlyn kept her hand at the back of her neck.
Vi glanced at it.
Then her eyes returned to Caitlyn’s face.
“Oh.”
“Yes,” Caitlyn said. “Do keep up.”
Vi let out a quiet laugh.
“Where, then?”
Caitlyn hesitated.
Not over the answer.
Over how quickly she had one.
“My room’s upstairs.”
Vi looked towards the staircase.
Then back at her.
“Convenient.”
“You’re welcome to walk home.”
“Didn’t say I was complaining.”
“You usually are.”
Vi pushed away from the wall.
Caitlyn took Vi’s hand.
Vi looked at their joined fingers.
“Afraid I’ll get lost?”
“I’ve seen you follow directions.”
“Could let me try.”
“And delay the entire evening?”
Vi grinned.
Caitlyn led her upstairs.
Halfway up, Vi said, “You know, you could’ve just asked me nicely.”
Caitlyn turned.
Vi was one step below her, looking far too pleased.
There were several things Caitlyn could have said.
Instead, she caught her shirt and kissed her again.
Vi’s hand found the banister.
When Caitlyn drew back, the grin had gone.
Much better.
“Keep walking,” she said.
Vi followed.
At the bedroom door, Caitlyn found her key on the second attempt.
She intended to blame the lighting.
Vi was considerate enough not to comment, which suggested she was either learning or distracted.
Caitlyn hoped for the latter.
The door opened.
She stepped inside, but Vi stopped at the threshold.
For a moment, neither spoke.
Downstairs, the music changed. Someone cheered.
Vi glanced into the room, then back at Caitlyn.
“You sure?”
No grin.
No nickname.
Caitlyn’s fingers tightened around hers.
“Yes.”
She pulled Vi inside.
Then shut the door and turned the lock.
She could deal with Violet in the morning.
Tonight, she had finally found something they did well together.