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When It Rains, It Pours

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Vi’s in her truck on the way back to Caitlyn’s apartment before she can overthink it too much. It’s been almost a week since she had left Caitlyn’s apartment wearing borrowed clothes and carrying a plate of lemon cake. Powder’s needed all hands on deck for a slew of emergency repairs, and she didn’t want to bring Caitlyn’s clothes back unwashed, which meant she had to fix her dryer - she really needs to get a new one, and she’s not hurting for money, but it just seems like a waste to get a new one when she can fix it herself. Also, she’s just…really nervous about being around Caitlyn again. As stupid as it is, having only been around her for a few hours, Vi feels a little (a lot) like she left her heart back in that surprisingly cozy apartment with a gorgeous, brilliant, unaccountably sweet lawyer. 

She’s never experienced this kind of magnetism toward another person before. Sure, she’s been attracted to plenty women, but she’s never felt a pull like this. A need to be with someone, as well as in bed with them. Because, don’t get her wrong, Vi feels weirdly mushy about Caitlyn, but she also hasn’t forgotten the way Caitlyn’s eyes darkened when she watched her get drenched by the shower…and carrying the water heater…and that almost kiss that’s kept Vi up every night since it happened… Fuck, just thinking about the look in Caitlyn’s piercing blue eyes makes squirm a little in the driver’s seat. She realizes suddenly that she’s nearly as wet as she was the other day in Caitlyn’s apartment. She needs to get this over with so she can go home and rub one out. That’ll fix whatever this is for sure. Yeah…right. 

Vi shakes her head to clear the wave of arousal mixed with…something - longing? - and makes the turn onto Caitlyn’s street. It’s not nearly long enough before she’s pulling up to the curb by Caitlyn’s building and hopping out of her truck, clean plate and clothes in hand. 

She walks up the sidewalk to the buzzer, taking a deep breath before hitting the button for apartment 410. It rings a few times before a click sounds, and a soft, slightly breathless “yes?” crackles through the speaker. Vi’s breath catches hard at the sound of the accented voice, and she has to clear her throat before she can respond with a shaky, “yeah, it’s uh. It’s Vi? I brought the stuff you loaned me?” Vi doesn’t know why she’s phrasing everything like a question - she had texted Caitlyn about why she was headed over. 

Caitlyn doesn’t respond for a second or two, during which time Vi’s heart makes an impressive attempt at leaping to her toes, but then her voice crackles through again, “Right, yes! Come on up.” The heavy clunk of the door unlocking sounds to Vi’s left, and she practically jumps all four of the stairs in one go to reach it. 

______

When Caitlyn had gotten a text from Vi earlier in the day about returning the borrowed items, she had taken approximately twenty minutes to think up an appropriate response. Eventually settling on, “Sure, that’s fine! I’ll be home around 2pm.” She was done with work early today, on account of a brunch at which her mother “absolutely required ” her presence, and she had cleared her schedule so she was free to nurse a migraine (or possibly get day drunk with Jayce) depending on how the event went. 

Her morning had been productive, which made her feel a little better about taking the rest of the day off. She had made some phone calls, gotten a few new clients settled, and organized her case notes for that wrongful arrest last weekend - she had been right, unfortunately - a teenager from Zaun in the wrong place at the wrong time. Thankfully, Viktor had gotten to him before too much damage was done, but they still had enough to win yet another suit. After work, she had changed into approved brunch attire and headed over to schmooze and simper and generally do all the things that made Caitlyn want to crawl out of her skin.

A few hours later, on the couch at her apartment and out of her stuffy brunch clothes after a much-needed shower, Caitlyn feels like herself again. Brunch actually hadn’t gone too poorly - she had only had to field six inquiries about finding herself a suitable husband (nevermind that Caitlyn had known she was a lesbian since she was twelve, and had been out since she was fourteen. A choice made for her by the Piltover Gazette in a disgusting exposé that was still the talk of the town when nothing else of interest had happened in a while, but one she stood by) and had only twice had to clench her teeth so hard her jaw popped to avoid saying something that absolutely would have ruined her mother’s brunch to the ignorant, cruel biddies in attendance. 

All things considered, it had been a relatively pleasant affair, as these things go. A fact she made sure to update Jayce on, since the man had been ready with the scotch since eleven, bless him. However, she was back in her apartment and changed into leggings and a loose-fitting long-sleeve shirt, complete with fuzzy socks by half past one in the afternoon. Vi had gotten back to her, saying that she was off work at five, and she’d drop by as soon as she could. Which left her with entirely too much time to stress about seeing a woman in whom she had made it entirely too clear she was interested. …and about whom she had had an entirely too self-indulgent fantasy in her (expertly repaired) tub after she had left. 

Goodness. Caitlyn lightly presses a hand to her sternum and wonders if it’s possible for a thermostat to selectively malfunction. 

Blinking a few times to try to clear the mental images her remembered fantasy has dredged up, Vi’s large hands on her thighs, Vi’s warmth underneath her, Vi’s taste under her tongue , Caitlyn peels herself off her couch and marches determinedly into the kitchen, reaching for the cupboard underneath the sink where she keeps her cleaning supplies. Nothing like a good stress clean to cool the heat now radiating from between her legs. 

______

Three hours later, and Caitlyn’s apartment is more spotless than it’s been possibly since she moved in a few years ago. Honestly, how much dust could accumulate on the tops of her door frames? The answer turned out to be “enough to make it seem like it’s started snowing in her apartment.” So, obviously, now she needs another shower, which she takes quickly, in case Vi decides to just swing by. 

She’s just finished drying off when she gets another text from Vi that just says, “omw” - Caitlyn is oddly endeared by the lack of capitalization or punctuation, though ordinarily that sort of thing irks her significantly - and she decides she probably has enough time to quickly blowdry her hair so that she doesn’t answer the door to the most beautiful woman she’s ever seen looking like a drowned cat. 

About fifteen minutes later, the buzzer rings, and she rushes across her apartment like an eager child rushing downstairs on Snowdown morning to hit the button and gasp out an entirely too breathless, “yes?” 

______

Vi’s hand hovers just above Caitlyn’s door for one beat, then two, before she brings her knuckles down to rap softly on her door, and then run her fingers through the longer, shaggy hair on one side of her head and rub slightly awkwardly at the back of her neck. 

The door flies open and, a little startled, Vi drops her hand. 

“Oh! Uhm. Hi, Vi,” Caitlyn stumbles a little over the greeting, and Vi is struck again by what a strange mix of unfairly beautiful and completely adorable Caitlyn is. 

“Yeah, heh. That’s me. Uh…here’s um. Here’s your clothes and your plate - thanks again for both, really. You saved my life - Powder,” at Caitlyn’s questioning look, she adds “that’s my sister. She goes by Jinx to everybody but family,” Caitlyn nods, “anyway, she would have killed me if I had come down with a cold before our busiest week in months. And my brothers devoured that cake in about two seconds flat - they kept trying to bribe me to break the pipes to your neighbor’s unit so they’d have an excuse to come fix things and eat more of her baking.” 

Vi and Caitlyn chuckle a little together at that, and as their laughter peters out, Vi realizes that Caitlyn’s smiling gently at her, looking impossibly soft if not for the heat in her blue eyes. Lightning crackles up her spine, keeping her rooted to the spot under that intense gaze. Her throat feels thick all of a sudden, and she swallows. Hard. 

______

Since opening her door a little too enthusiastically a few minutes ago, Caitlyn’s again been struck completely dumb by Vi’s presence. She had hoped that the week apart had cooled her visceral response to the pink-haired woman, but it seems to have only intensified it. She feels… drawn to Vi in a way she hasn’t felt drawn to anyone before. 

Caitlyn’s always been a bit of a misfit, and while she’s confident in her sexuality and knows how to get what she wants, she’s thrown off balance by the strength of her feelings toward Vi. It’s ridiculous, really. She’s known Vi for a week, and has actually spent time with her for all of, what, four hours? But she feels how she feels. There’s no escaping it, standing here in her doorway, in front of Vi, who’s telling her an endearing story about her family - letting her in on another little piece of her life. Something Caitlyn aches to know more about. There’s so much more to Vi than meets the eye, and Caitlyn’s always loved mysteries.

They laugh together at the idea of Vi breaking things in the building so her brothers have an excuse to eat some more baked goods (Caitlyn makes a mental note to ask Mrs. Ainsley if she would mind maybe baking her some extras in exchange for a nice lunch), and Caitlyn’s breath catches in her chest at the sight of Vi’s unguarded little smile, the musical sound of her laugh. The sound does things to Caitlyn’s core, and, against her will, her mind turns back to her fantasy in the bath days ago. What Vi would sound like arching underneath her, what Vi’s hands would feel like laced with hers as Caitlyn makes her squirm and whimper and…

Caitlyn watches the muscles in Vi’s throat work, gear tattoo shifting, as she realizes Caitlyn’s no longer thinking about baking, watches as the silvery gray of Vi’s eyes starts to disappear as her pupils dilate, and she thinks, “screw it.”

______

Her arms lift as her long legs carry her forward the single step to close the distance to the stunning woman in front of her before she can think through the possibility of rejection, consider what a bad idea this is, how wanton and silly she’s behaving, like a schoolgirl with a crush…

She slides both hands gently along Vi’s jaw to anchor her fingertips at the base of Vi’s skull, her pink hair soft and fuzzy on the side with her undercut, silky and twining through her fingers on the other, tilting her head up with as much tenderness as she can manage, and slowly, giving Vi enough time to back out if she wants, bends her tall frame down slightly, waiting a single beat before her eyes flutter closed and she finally, finally presses her lips to Vi’s. 

It feels so much better than Caitlyn remembers a kiss could be. Vi’s lips are soft, and, after a beat, are moving against hers with the same urgency Caitlyn feels. She can feel Vi’s lip scar, takes extra care to press a little kiss just to her upper lip to taste it more fully. Vi’s still holding her borrowed clothes and that stupid cake plate, but her other hand has found its way to Caitlyn’s waist where a lightly trembling thumb traces back and forth on her ribs. The gentle motion makes Caitlyn feel lighter than air at the same time as she feels desire, thick and hot, pooling in her core and anchoring her to this moment, to Vi

The unwelcome but persistent thought of the cake plate reminds Caitlyn that she has neighbors and she and Vi are making out in the hallway, for God’s sake , and she reluctantly breaks her lips from Vi’s to lean her forehead against the shorter woman’s. She’s still holding Vi’s face, and as they both catch their breath, she strokes her thumbs across Vi’s cheeks - the VI tattoo pulling slightly with the motion. 

“Hi,” Caitlyn says, breathless and smiling. 

Vi licks her lips, and Caitlyn’s hungry eyes follow the motion. “Hey,” she replies, her lip scar stretching with the width of her grin. 

The sound of the door to the stairwell startles them apart just in time for her neighbor to walk down the hall toward her own unit, enthusiastically greeting Caitlyn along the way, “ah, Caitlyn! So good to see you, honey! How did you like that lemon cake?” 

Caitlyn hastily clears her throat, “oh, it was delicious, Mrs. Ainsley! I took your advice and shared it with Vi,” she nods at her companion, who smiles at her neighbor and says a polite, “Ma’am.” (“companion” isn’t precisely the right word, but that kiss shorted out Caitlyn’s higher thought function, and she figures that saying, “I shared it with this incredible woman I’d planned to bring inside my apartment and fuck until her cum drips down to my elbow,” probably isn’t the best call.)

Vi seems to realize that Caitlyn’s head is elsewhere, and she steps farther away - Caitlyn does not mourn the loss - saying, “My family and I really loved your baking, Mrs. Ainsley. My brothers damn near broke the kitchen table going for the last piece. Thank you for sharing with us.” Vi holds out the cake plate to her neighbor, tendons in her forearm flexing lightly with the weight - why is there no air in this hallway? - her neighbor takes the plate, beginning a lengthy explanation of how the lemon cake was actually a family recipe, and she only makes it for special occasions, but “that grocery shop for ya and deliver it nonsense” had brought her too many lemons, so great-grandma’s recipe it was. 

She’s just starting in on how useless those “internet purchasers” are when Vi, Caitlyn’s hero twice in one week, says “Ah, Mrs. Ainsley, I’m sorry but I’m here to fix a pretty urgent issue with Caitlyn’s thermostat. Seems like it’s getting a little too hot in her unit - I mean, look at her, she’s all flushed!” 

Caitlyn shoots Vi the most vicious glare she can muster with rapidly dampening panties and a heart rate that’s been going haywire since she first laid eyes on Vi when she arrived, and says to her clueless neighbor, “Uhm, yes, Vi’s been so kind as to pay a special house call. My thermostat is being really annoying and I’m desperately overheated.” Vi smirks a little as she picks up on Caitlyn’s meaning, and Caitlyn’s stomach does a swan dive to her toes. Maddening, really, how one person can be this attractive. 

After a hasty goodbye and a “good luck girls! Oh, Caitlyn, honey, don’t forget to call me about my nephew. He’s single and a great catch!” the two women are safely inside Caitlyn’s apartment, where she’s thrown the latch and is now gently thunking her head against the front door in minor mortification at the whole situation. 

“Hey, hey, none of that,” Vi’s voice comes from behind her and two strong hands - Vi must have set the clothes down somewhere - settle on her hips and turn her around so her back’s against the door, “You don’t want to damage your perfect face…you might not be up to par for her nephew if you show up all banged up.” Vi snickers to herself and Caitlyn lightly swats at her shoulder, scowling playfully at the shorter woman before her words register. 

“You think my face is perfect?” she asks shyly, looking into Vi’s slackened face with wonder. 

“Uh…yeah. Yeah, I do. Have you seen you? All of you is just. Wow.” Vi flushes red all the way down to the base of her neck where her collar prevents Caitlyn from seeing how far down it goes, and Caitlyn’s heart pangs with how endeared she feels. She continues talking to avoid saying something truly foolish.

“Really? I’ve always felt like I was too…sharp. Too long, too gangly. I look like a giraffe, honestly. All limbs. And then there’s the tooth gap. Unsightly, but not medically necessary to fix, so I decided against braces.” Caitlyn sniffs a little derisively as she gets to the end of the catalog of her faults. Realizing she’s been looking off to the side to think on what, precisely, she knew was wrong with her body, she looks back at Vi, who looks…shocked? Offended? Something. 

Vi opens and closes her mouth a few times soundlessly, staring up at Caitlyn incredulously. 

“Caitlyn, you… Look, I’m not great with words, but you’re the seriously most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen. The first time you smiled at me, you might as well have punched me in the chest. Your legs have literally been haunting my dreams for the past week. And no matter what I do, I can’t stop thinking about how this,” Vi skims her hands from their place on Caitlyn’s hips up to squeeze lightly at her waist and trace back down, “would feel under my hands.” Caitlyn can hear the sheer want wavering in Vi’s voice, and her breath catches for the second time since Vi’s arrival. 

Vi takes a deep, shaky breath, her fingers lightly flexing on Caitlyn’s hips, and says, “Can I kiss you again, Cupcake?” 

Despite her earlier bravado - moment of insanity? - Caitlyn flushes, a little awestruck that this incredible woman wants her, thinks she’s beautiful . Maybe as beautiful as Caitlyn thinks Vi is, and as overwhelmed as she is, all she can manage is a quick nod. 

It’s enough for Vi, though, who leans forward and up on her toes slightly to press her lips back to Caitlyn’s, squeezing her hips harder as Caitlyn gasps into her mouth, clutching at Vi’s broad shoulders as she feels one muscular arm slide around her waist and a large, warm hand slide into her hair, holding her still for a sensual assault of lips and tongue against her mouth. 

Caitlyn feels liquid as she melts into Vi’s front, parting her lips and licking lightly at the slightly parted seam of Vi’s lips, asking, begging , and Vi answers, groaning into her mouth and sliding her tongue against Caitlyn’s. It’s a tentative touch, a learning touch, and one that doesn’t stay shy for long. 

Vi holds her tighter, kisses her harder, and Caitlyn slides one hand from Vi’s shoulder into the longer side of her hair to haul her closer because she can’t stand the thought of any air between them, needs to feel every tiny sound Vi makes resonate in her whole body. 

Caitlyn gasps embarrassingly loudly as Vi tears her mouth away from hers to press blistering, urgent kisses along her jaw and nuzzle into the spot under her ear, panting hot breaths along Caitlyn’s throat that make her fingers tighten in Vi’s hair as she fucking whimpers . God, she’s sure it’s never been like this before. Her skin feels too tight, her breath is sawing in and out of lungs she wasn’t even really sure were still functioning until this very moment, and she can feel a new flood of wetness soaking through her panties as Vi stops nuzzling her neck with a groan and starts sucking - Caitlyn thinks she might pass out. She should really tell Vi not to leave any hickies, but it’s cold outside. She’ll wear a turtleneck if she needs to. She’ll wear four scarves and three pairs of sunglasses to avoid being recognized if it means Vi will keep doing that

Vi starts adding devastating little nips to the suction she’s applying to Caitlyn’s neck with unerring precision, and Caitlyn can’t contain the moan or the harsh buck of her hips as the feeling goes straight to her aching breasts, to her nipples that rasp against the lace of her bra and send little shocks of pleasure straight to her core every time Vi shifts against her. Vi has the audacity to chuckle against her neck, the low, sensual sound causing Caitlyn to thunk her head back against the door with a small groan. An, “easy there, Cupcake,” and a gentle kiss to her ravaged neck breaks through her haze and her eyes flutter open just enough to peer down at Vi through her lashes. 

It’s a sight to behold. Vi’s beautiful, heart-shaped face is flushed, her mercurial eyes wide, her plush, pink mouth flushed nearly red from Caitlyn’s kisses. Absentmindedly, Caitlyn starts running the hand that had been yanking on Vi’s hair through it gently, fixing where she’s mussed it with her desperate grip. 

Vi leans into the touch, letting out a contented hum and nuzzling closer, easing the firm grip her arms have on Caitlyn’s waist. A little overwhelmed by how beautiful Vi looks, how vulnerable, Caitlyn starts to feel slight pressure behind her eyes. She blinks it back, needing to do something with this feeling that’s invaded her chest and made her feel so fond for a woman she’s known not even a week. 

She knows immediately that she wants Vi to feel as good as Vi’s made her feel. Better, even. Wants to see her undone, wants the trust Vi’s placed in her by being this close, by sharing her space and her body like this to be rewarded. She wants Vi to know she sees her. 

Newly determined, Caitlyn tightens her fingers in Vi’s hair again, tugging dazed and clouded gray eyes back to hers. She holds eye contact with Vi for a moment, bringing the backs of the fingers that had been helplessly clinging to Vi’s shoulder to stroke her cheek lightly before pulling Vi’s lips back to hers. Vi melts back into the kiss, holding Caitlyn against her again, snug and warm and perfect. She slips a thigh between Caitlyn’s, pressing up to the aching juncture of her thighs, and Caitlyn nearly buckles to the ground. Would have, if not for Vi’s arms around her waist, her solid strength in front of her and the heavy door behind her. 

A gasping, “Fuck, Cupcake,” followed by an “I can feel how wet you are,” nearly shatters Caitlyn’s resolve, especially once she realizes that Vi is probably right. There’s more slickness than friction between her thighs right now, even with the pressure Vi’s gorgeously muscled thigh is applying. Oddly, that works in her favor, because Vi can’t get her off like this, not without any friction - though, really, she’s happy for Vi to try at another time - and she comes back to herself enough to kiss Vi with new intensity, sliding her tongue in the shorter woman’s mouth and swallowing the delicious moan that ensues.

The kiss is enough for the power Vi had been pressing into her body to relax a little, and she pulls Vi’s hair hard enough to get herself some extra space - earning herself a surprised noise in return - and wiggles herself out from between Vi and the door while the object of her affection is still reeling from the kiss. She doesn’t leave Vi bereft of the warmth of her body for long, pressing her back against the door where Caitlyn just was, smirking in triumph against her mouth as she puts Vi exactly where she wants her. 

When she pulls back a little to check that her assertive move was okay with Vi, she finds the pink-haired woman with pupils blown so wide her irises are almost not visible, and her chest snapping up and down rapidly. She checks in verbally anyway, even as the sight of Vi so raw and wanting for her makes her start to actually drip down her thighs, even encased such as they are inside her leggings, “okay?” she asks. 

Vi nods frantically, reaching for her hips again. 

Caitlyn gives her another second to catch her breath. 

“Yeah, Cupcake. I’m real good,” that confident smirk is back, though it looks a little love drunk, and Caitlyn figures it’s as good a time as any to proceed with her plan. 

She draws on all the confidence she can muster, all the want she’s felt from Vi the past minutes, her desire to make Vi feel good, and says, “I want to touch you, Vi. May I?” 

Vi looks confused, “You are touching me, Cupcake?” 

Caitlyn brushes her fingertips over Vi’s sides, watching the muscles bunch through her gray polo - how are they still fully clothed?  

“No, Vi, I mean I want to make you come for me.” Vi swallows hard at that, looking away from her, and shuffling against the door a little bit.

“You uh. You don’t have to do that, Cupcake. I’m good. Really.” Vi looks sincere, which breaks Caitlyn’s heart a little bit for no reason other than that she knows Vi deserves to feel good, wants Vi to know that, too. Her resolve hardens again. She wants to make Vi feel good more than just about anything she’s ever wanted in her life. 

So she steels her spine, catches Vi’s chin in one hand, asking without words for Vi to meet her eyes, “I want to. Please?” 

Vi takes a second to think about it, worrying her bottom lip between her teeth, and Caitlyn waits. She doesn’t want Vi to feel any pressure, and she has no idea if she’s doing this properly because it’s been so long she feels like she’s about to burst out of her skin just being in the muscular, tattooed woman’s presence, but something about Vi makes her want to take her time. Show Vi she’s cherished at the same time as she makes her thighs shake. 

Just before Caitlyn’s about to rephrase her offer, maybe offer something else, she doesn’t actually know, Vi responds with a quiet, “okay,” then stronger, as she continues, “yeah, Cupcake. That sounds…yeah. Go for it.” 

Her little smile cracks Caitlyn’s chest fully in two, and she surges forward to kiss Vi, openmouthed and messy and wet. Her searching fingers slide against the sides of Vi’s neck, relishing in the feeling of the tendons flexing under her fingers, to her strong shoulders, bunching as Vi’s hands find purchase, an anchor, on Caitlyn’s back, sliding down the rippling muscle of Vi’s sides to find the hem of Vi’s gray work polo and tug it insistently upward. She gets as far as Vi’s armpits before her efforts are in vain, and Vi laughs at her pouting noise, helping out by yanking the polo over her head. Caitlyn puts her hands back on Vi’s skin the second she can get them there, running her fingertips over defined abdominals and flattening her palms against the warm muscle. It’s better than anything her imagination conjured in the shower after Vi had left her last week with expertly repaired appliances and soaked panties. 

She makes a little involuntary noise in the back of her throat at the feeling of soft skin over hard, bunching muscle, and slides her hands to Vi’s sides to lightly trace her fingertips over obliques that carve hard lines into the sides of Vi’s abs. To her delight, Vi’s not ticklish, shivering with enjoyment into the gentle exploration of the ridges of muscle. 

Caitlyn takes pity on Vi, leaning heavily against the door to her apartment, fists bunched and flexing at her sides and brow furrowed as she wrestles against her own need, letting Caitlyn take what she wants. Without further ceremony, Caitlyn slides both hands up to the band of Vi’s sports bra, slips her fingertips underneath it, and lifts it up and over Vi’s breasts in one quick motion. Just as Vi’s eyes snap open to look at her in aroused surprise, Caitlyn’s ducking down and her mouth is on Vi’s nipple, laving it with the flat of her tongue, and, as she sucks it into the warmth of her mouth, she toys with her other nipple with her fingers, tugging lightly on the silver barbell piercing like she’s wanted to since Vi had stood, dripping wet and magnificent, in that white t-shirt in her bathroom nearly a week ago. 

She feels Vi’s thick fingers slide into her hair and her chest reverberate with a long groan as her head thuds back into the door. Caitlyn teases at her nipples, switching her mouth and her fingertips, lightly blowing a stream of cool air on her wet nipples to make them tighten further. Vi shifts her hips forward, searching for friction, anything to ease the ache between her thighs. Which, if it’s anything like the ache between Caitlyn’s own, has to be driving her halfway to insanity.  

Caitlyn puts her mouth and fingers back on Vi’s now-chilled nipples, and traces the fingertips of her opposite hand down the defined center line of Vi’s torso, taking small detours to brush over her scars with featherlight pressure, all the way to the button on her navy work pants. She dips her middle and index fingers just underneath the waistband, tugging lightly. Vi groans and tightens her fingers in her hair, uttering a strained, “ fuck! ” that has Caitlyn snapping open the button on her pants and unzipping them one-handed with speed that matches the urgency she can feel rolling off the woman she has pinned against the door to her apartment, panting and writhing and beautiful. 

Just after she gets Vi’s trousers undone, as she’s tracing her fingers back and forth over the waistband of her briefs, Caitlyn pulls away from Vi’s tight nipples, leaning up to kiss her and shifting to cup her breast in the hand not occupied with teasing the skin somewhere south of Vi’s belly button. Vi’s panting into her mouth at this point, not really kissing back, and Caitlyn feels a surge of pride that she’s the one who’s made Vi feel like this. She carries that wave of possessiveness through as flicks her tongue across Vi’s jaw to her ear, taking the lobe between her teeth and pulling slightly. She moves just below Vi’s ear to suck a hickey to match the one she’s no doubt sporting, scraping her teeth over the tender skin. She hears Vi’s breath come out in a hiss as she asks, “this okay, darling?” 

Vi groans, pulling and pressing at her head with the fingers that are still woven through her hair, not really pushing her in any specific direction, but communicating her need well enough anyway, “Fuck, Caitlyn, please touch me. I’m so okay. I need, God, fuck–” she trails off without finishing that thought, but Caitlyn’s always been a fast learner, and she’s more than happy to oblige. 

She dips the fingers that have been teasing at the edge of her briefs past coarse curls, and farther until she reaches the curls that are drenched in slick. She moans into Vi’s neck at the feeling, giving the barbell through her nipple another gentle tug. Caitlyn slides her fingers along Vi’s outer lips in slow, teasing strokes, avoiding where she’s most sensitive, where she most wants Caitlyn to go, before she gives in to Vi’s needy whimpering and strokes one finger through the middle, gently separating her outer lips to drag her finger through where the slick is most concentrated and forward to her clit, circling once. 

She presses kisses to Vi’s neck as she feels her tense, hears her hiss and groan, bucking her hips into Caitlyn’s hand, trying to get her to move . Caitlyn acquiesces with a light laugh, dipping back into the wetness and dragging it forward to circle over Vi’s clit, repeating the motion over and over as she feels Vi’s thigh, tense and tucked to the outside of her knee, start to shake. 

“Fuck, more , Caitlyn,” Vi’s panting in earnest now, one large hand pulling free of her hair to grab at Caitlyn’s wrist, the other clenching almost painfully in her hair.

Caitlyn moves the tip of her finger back to the source of the wetness, pressing her fingertip just inside Vi’s entrance and relishing the way Vi’s hand clenches in her hair again. She stays there, fingertip just inside that delicious, wet heat, not moving, smiling into the gear tattoo on the side of Vi’s neck and twisting lightly at her nipple until Vi grips her wrist more urgently, pushing her hand farther inside her briefs, and pants out, “inside. Please.

Caitlyn moans at the needy instruction, and slowly presses her finger all the way into Vi’s slick heat, panting into Vi’s neck at the feel of her, whispering how good she feels into Vi’s neck. They’re caught in their own blissful bubble, teetering on the edge of the pleasurable, straining climb toward a climax, when Caitlyn bends her finger and strokes it forward and down, rubbing against the rough cluster of nerves she knows is right there

Vi bucks hard enough to dislodge Caitlyn’s forehead from her neck and hand from her nipple. Looking down at Vi with no small amount of awe, Caitlyn repeats the motion, watching Vi as she does. The teeth sunk into her lower lip, the tendons flexing in her neck, and the muscles bunching all the way down her torso are all so erotic that Caitlyn hardly has any words as she continues moving her fingers, except: “I want to taste you.”

______

“What?” Vi can barely function enough to stay standing, even with a door behind her and Caitlyn’s lithe strength in front of her, let alone process that she’s just been asked a question. 

“I want to taste you,” Caitlyn repeats, still stroking just one long finger inside her. Vi can feel herself dripping, has been able to since she was sitting in her truck on the way to this apartment, for fuck’s sake. She can feel a whine caught in her throat, her hips stuttering, trying to take Caitlyn’s finger deeper, trying to get closer to what she’s now pretty goddamn sure is going to be an incredible orgasm. 

While she’s trying to formulate some sort of response - Caitlyn had asked her a question, hadn’t she? - Caitlyn pulls her hand out of Vi’s briefs, despite Vi clutching desperately at her wrist, and Vi feels fucking betrayed , snapping her eyes open to glare up into Caitlyn’s hooded blue gaze. She opens her mouth to ask her what the fuck that’s about, when Caitlyn smirks down at her fuck, that’s hot and traces her wet fingertip over the front of Vi’s hipbone. 

A second later, newly breathless, Vi watches Caitlyn fold her tall frame down onto her knees on the floor, and then as her tongue follows the same path as her teasing fingertip. Caitlyn moans into her hipbone and Vi feels new wetness drip into her soaked briefs as she answers Caitlyn’s moan with one of her own. She has a sudden moment of clarity, an almost out of body experience as she realizes the absurdity of the situation. Caitlyn’s still fully dressed. So far, the only article of clothing they’ve managed to lose is her shirt. Her sports bra’s still on, just pushed up over her tits. Her pants and boots are still fully on, and she’s so worked up she was about ready to cum in her pants from just one of Caitlyn’s fingers inside her. 

She laughs lightly and feels Caitlyn’s answering smile against her hipbone. 

“Yeah, alright, Cupcake. Alright,” she finally manages. 

Caitlyn stands from the floor in one smooth motion, tangling her fingers with Vi’s and pulling her back into a kiss that tastes vaguely different - like her , Vi realizes. She breaks the kiss with a smile and backs up, still holding onto Vi’s hands, “Well? Come on, then.”

That tooth gap is going to be the death of her, Vi thinks. How is she supposed to refuse Caitlyn anything when she looks so sincere, so excited at the prospect of eating her out? The thought that they’re headed to Caitlyn’s bedroom so that Caitlyn can put her head between Vi’s own thighs is enough to make her stumble slightly. Which is okay, actually, because Caitlyn catches her, laughing, and kisses her stupid halfway between the front door and her bedroom. 

Suddenly, Vi needs to feel Caitlyn’s skin. She breaks their kiss for a second to yank off the sports bra that still rucked up underneath her arms, throwing it vaguely in the direction of the kitchen, and to kick off her work boots and toe off her socks before she makes a mess of Caitlyn’s spotless apartment. Once that’s done, barefoot and now a little shorter still than Caitlyn is, she reaches forward for the hem of Caitlyn’s soft shirt, waiting for Caitlyn to nod shyly at her before tugging it up and off. 

Vi feels like she’s not breathing as she skims her palms up the warm and soft skin of Caitlyn’s sensitive sides to her bra. Goosebumps erupt all over her torso, and Vi makes a soft, pleased noise in her throat at the reaction, happy that she’s here, that this is real , and she gets to touch this absolutely stunningly beautiful woman in front of her. 

Vi strokes her thumbs over the band of Caitlyn’s bra as she takes her in for the first time. 

Caitlyn’s gorgeous and slender, but not scrawny. Her whole torso is wrapped in firm muscle, interrupted by sharp collarbones flowing to the light indents from the ribs branching from her sternum to the full swell of her breasts, pushing against the thin cups of her lace bra. Vi’s eyes catch something that makes her grin, meeting Caitlyn’s eyes incredulously: “yours are pierced, too?” 

Caitlyn sinks adorably gapped teeth into her bottom lip and nods, shrugging slightly. Vi can’t help herself and laughs for what feels like the hundredth time since she arrived, ducking down to press her open mouth over Caitlyn’s nipple through her bra. Caitlyn’s answering gasp and the long fingers that slide into her hair make Vi shiver, flicking her tongue out to tease at the textured fabric over the hard peak. Caitlyn groans at the extra attention, pulling one of her hands away from Vi’s head. 

Occupied as she is, Vi’s not sure what Caitlyn’s done with her hand until the lace pressed taut against her face goes slack, and she realizes Caitlyn’s unhooked her own bra. One handed. Hot. 

Vi’s not about to look a gift horse in the mouth, so she pulls back briefly to drag Caitlyn’s bra down her arms and off, taking a second to marvel at Caitlyn’s bare tits, rising and falling rapidly with her quick breathing and adorned at the tips with beautiful silver barbells with some kind of whitish, shimmery, multicolor stones at each end. Vi’s never been the best with words, so she puts her mouth right back where it was, groaning at the feeling of bare skin and cool metal under her tongue. 

Caitlyn’s knees buckle and she clutches at Vi’s shoulders with her fingernails. Vi catches her around the waist with one arm, using her other hand to grab and lift at Caitlyn’s thigh, encouraging it to lock around her waist. Caitlyn gets the hint, wrapping those gorgeous, long, long legs around Vi’s waist, bringing her burning, damp core flush with Vi’s lower abs, exposed by her undone work pants. 

Vi’s own knees almost buckle at Caitlyn’s gasp, and the feeling of wet heat so close to her own, but she manages to keep her feet, pressing kisses to the plush tops of Caitlyn’s breasts as she walks them as quickly as she can back to Caitlyn’s bedroom. 

She makes her way carefully through the narrow doorway to Caitlyn’s room and sets a knee on the enormous, neatly-made bed. She takes a lot of satisfaction in using her brute strength to slowly lower Caitlyn to the bed, taking care not to drop her. The look of wonder in Caitlyn’s eyes when she meets them makes her flush and duck her head, distracting herself and Caitlyn with laving her neglected nipple with the flat of her tongue. 

Caitlyn’s apparently figured out her tactic before long, though, and two strong arms lock around Vi’s neck, pulling her flush with Caitlyn’s torso. A second later, Caitlyn’s abs flex against Vi’s, her hips lifting and twisting, raising Vi clean off the bed and tipping her sideways and onto her back, where Caitlyn swings a leg over her to straddle her with a triumphant grin. 

Vi’s still reeling from the smooth disarming move, drunk on the feeling of Caitlyn’s skin against hers and the feeling of the wet patch of Caitlyn’s leggings back on her lower abs when Caitlyn puts her hands on either side of her head and leans down to kiss her. 

Vi can feel her hips rolling up against Caitlyn’s, coaxing groans out of both of them, and Caitlyn takes that as her cue to work her way down Vi’s neck, tracing her tongue over what Vi recognizes as the general outline of her gear tattoo, guess Caitlyn likes those , and down to tongue away the light sheen of sweat that’s gathered between her breasts. Caitlyn presses a cheeky kiss to her sternum, shifting fully onto her knees and reaching down to tug at both of Vi’s nipple piercings at the same time. Vi can’t help the desperate noise that escapes, her hips bucking more insistently as jolts of pure electricity arc from her nipples to her aching, swollen clit. 

“Cupcake–” she pants, warning in the endearment, squeezing her eyes shut and pressing her head into the duvet as Caitlyn seems to take pity on her, continuing her kisses down Vi’s torso, stopping every so often to press featherlight kisses where Vi knows her scars are, and tracing her tongue through the ridges of her abs, and Vi thinks that this isn’t pity, after all, it’s more like torment. 

But, finally, Caitlyn’s mouth reaches the top of Vi’s briefs, and Vi feels long, talented fingers hook in the sides of both her pants and briefs. She looks down after a few beats of nothing happening to see Caitlyn looking up at her, a question in her gaze, and she manages a shaky nod, lifting her hips to help Caitlyn slide off the last barriers between Catilyn and her dripping, soaked core. 

Caitlyn drops to her knees between Vi’s legs, pulling her a little closer to the edge of the bed  with long fingers around her calves, and, when she seems to deem Vi in the appropriate position for whatever she has planned, presses tender kisses to the inside of one of Vi’s knees, then the other. She uses firm hands to lift first one leg, then the other so that Vi’s knees are hooked over her narrow shoulders, calves and feet hanging down her back. 

Vi can’t help it, and hooks her ankles together behind Caitlyn’s back, contracting the muscles in her legs and trying to drag her closer to where the exposed heat of her swollen core is being brushed by the cool air in the room. 

Caitlyn smiles, and Vi’s pretty sure she’s dead. She’s dead, and she must have made amends with whatever gods she’d managed to piss off in her short but brutal life, because there’s no way this is reality, not with Caitlyn - who kissed her ; Vi still can’t believe it - on her knees in front of her, kissing gently up her inner thighs with so much care that Vi has the absurd urge to cry. 

She doesn’t, though. Can’t, really, not when Caitlyn switches from gentle kisses to suckling hard at the skin of her inner thighs, leaving marks that are sure to be there for days. Vi doesn’t know how long it is until Caitlyn finally presses her beautiful mouth to where Vi wants her, needs her, and she moans like eating Vi out makes her feel just as good as she’s currently making Vi feel. It doesn’t make any goddamn sense, but Vi’s going along with it, because if she doesn’t come soon, she thinks she might die. 

Vi feels like she might never breathe again as Caitlyn’s tongue works her over, tracing from her opening up to her clit, circling and gone before Vi can tell her to never stop. Vi feels like liquid, melted into the impossibly soft bed underneath her and poured open for Caitlyn to take what she wants, anything she wants. 

Here’s the thing, Vi doesn’t usually receive. It’s a carryover from her year in Stillwater, maybe, but Vi usually feels like she has to be guarded, can’t let her guard down with anyone. That’s been the major complaint from the few women who’ve tried for a relationship with Vi in the past. Nowadays, to avoid disappointing anyone, she usually just flirts. There was that friends with benefits thing with Sarah a few years ago, but other than that? She’s thirty and she’s never had a real relationship. 

If she masturbates, it’s hard and fast, tense and nearly silent, a carryover from her time in Stillwater and growing up in a household with three siblings and a slightly nosy father. So this slow, drawn out moment of connection, where she knows that Caitlyn’s doing this for her but also taking her own pleasure from it? It’s almost too much. 

Even without knowing anything about Vi’s past, her issues with vulnerability, Caitlyn seems to know to be gentle. She’s treating Vi with care she’s never experienced before, and Vi feels her eyes well at the tenderness, has to blink back tears as Caitlyn reaches up with one hand and links long, slender fingers with Vi’s, squeezing her thick, scarred knuckles. As she grounds Vi with the contact, she presses the tip of her finger back to Vi’s entrance like before, sliding inside without preamble and crooking it in the familiar “come hither” motion. 

Vi arches and gasps, squeezing harder at the fingers laced with her own, trying to fuck her hips down on the single finger Caitlyn’s using to take her apart, and Caitlyn understands , humming around her clit and sliding a second finger in with the first. 

Vi’s thighs start to shake, a strangled, “yes, just like that,” scraping its way out of her throat, as she lets Caitlyn’s mouth and fingers send her somewhere else, somewhere lighter, consumed with the pleasure Caitlyn seems thrilled to give, and give, and give. 

She feels Caitlyn suck on her clit, hooking her fingers hard, and Vi can’t sense anything but the quaking tension in every muscle in her body, the gush of wetness that escapes her, and the static in her ears as the thread of tension that’s been building since Caitlyn kissed her in the hallway - maybe even since that almost-kiss nearly a week ago - snaps and sends her flying, floating away from her body in a euphoric rush. 

______

Vi slowly floats back down into her body piece by piece. She’s sure she’s never come that hard in her life. Her ribs are snapping up and down like she just finished a grueling three hour gym session, and she can’t feel her legs. 

What she can feel is Caitlyn: still squeezing the hand laced with hers and tracing a thumb back and forth over the outside of her hand, Caitlyn’s gently licking away the evidence of Vi’s climax, nuzzling into the crease of her thigh, and peppering her skin with gentle kisses. 

Vi musters up enough energy to squeeze Caitlyn’s hand back and manage a hoarse, “hey there.” She might have screamed, she guesses from the rasp in her voice, but it doesn’t really matter. Not with the way Caitlyn’s eyes light up when she lifts her head to make eye contact, smiling up at Vi with swollen, slick lips. 

She takes a second to wipe her mouth on the back of her hand, gently setting Vi’s legs down on the bed from where they were draped over her thighs and standing with cracking knees to help Vi shift farther up onto the bed, so her head’s on the pillows. 

The sight of Caitlyn standing in front of her, still in her leggings, wet patch visible and stretching from between her legs to halfway down her thighs even through the black fabric returns Vi’s strength faster than she’d thought possible. 

“Take those off,” Vi’s saying before she has a chance to think about how she phrased it. It’s worth it to see Caitlyn’s mouth form a surprised little “o.” She doesn’t ask any further questions, just reaches for her waistband and tugs them down long, long legs - Vi really likes her legs. She’s going to worship them appropriately when she can move again - and stands in front of the bed, one knee knocked against the other and fingers tangled again at her midsection, endearingly shy after what she’s just done to Vi. 

“Get up here, Cupcake.” 

Vi smirks at her, watches her flush and her mouth open and close a few times before she settles on, “you don’t have to, Vi, really. I just wanted to make you feel good, you don’t owe me anything.” 

Vi’s heart squeezes a little at that, because she can tell how honest Caitlyn’s being, how sincere she is about only wanting to bring Vi pleasure, and not needing anything for herself. But she can also see how worked up Caitlyn is, especially with the leggings out of the way, and so she gambles a little that Caitlyn likes how blunt she is and says, 

“I know, Cupcake. I want to. But you made me cum so hard I can’t feel my legs, so I’m gonna need you to help me out. Crawl up here and sit on my face, would ya?” 

Vi smirks again as Caitlyn flushes all the way down to her perfect tits and utters a shaky, “o-okay,” setting a knee on the bed and doing exactly what Vi’s asked her to. 

She’s so graceful, even having to crawl on her hands and knees on a plush mattress over a fucked out Vi, laying sprawled and boneless in the middle of the bed like she owns the damn thing. Vi takes a second to enjoy the view and the hot, wanting kiss Caitlyn presses to her lips before she rises fully on her knees to get herself arranged properly over Vi’s head. 

This close, the sweet, musky scent of her has Vi nearly salivating. Her pussy is perfect - pink and swollen and dripping between lips covered in neatly-trimmed hair the same color as the inky blue strands on her head. She can see that Caitlyn’s slick is smeared into the crease of her thighs and down her legs quite a ways, and the evidence of how worked up Caitlyn had gotten eating Vi out makes her groan, wrapping her hands around Caitlyn’s thighs and tugging her burning core directly onto her mouth without further preamble. 

Vi doesn’t have Caitlyn’s patience for teasing right now, even fucked out and reeling from that incredible orgasm. She licks hungrily through her folds, moaning at the taste and the new rush of wetness against her tongue. 

She can feel one of Caitlyn’s long-fingered hands reach down to tangle in the longer side of her hair, pulling slightly as Vi reaches her clit, sucking it into her mouth and swirling her tongue a few times for good measure. 

The sound is muffled from where she’s laying, pinned to the pillows with Caitlyn’s pussy smearing wetness across her face (the thought makes her own cunt clench around nothing), but she hears Caitlyn gasp out a, “yes, darling,” that makes her immediately redouble her efforts to make the incredible woman above her cum. 

She presses her tongue to Caitlyn’s entrance, where she’s still dripping, and slowly presses her tongue inside, flexing the muscle to press it forward and stroke back out. Caitlyn’s thighs are already starting to quake on either side of her head, so she plunges her tongue back in, fucking Caitlyn with her tongue until the quaking intensifies, pulling out abruptly to lick her way back up to Caitlyn’s clit and suck hard, flicking her tongue back and forth across the bundle of nerves. 

Vi’s rewarded with a loud wail that might be her name, and a flood of slick that drips down her chin and neck as Caitlyn’s whole body shakes and the hand in her hair tightens to the point of pain. 

While she waits for Caitlyn’s muscles to relax from the strength of her orgasm, Vi busies herself with pressing little kisses all around Caitlyn’s clit, avoiding where she knows she’s still too sensitive to be touched, and, when Caitlyn starts seeming like she’s coming back to herself, Vi leans her head to one side and sucks a hickey into the soft flesh of Caitlyn’s inner thigh. 

______

Caitlyn huffs a laugh and leans back, sitting up on shaky legs and slowly swinging one over Vi’s body so she can shimmy down to press a kiss to her lips and brush the backs of her fingers against Vi’s cheek before sliding down further to lay against her, face tucked into her neck and one of Vi’s strong arms wrapped around her shoulders. They’re still on top of the covers.

She can’t stop smiling. Her heart’s still racing from the best orgasm she’s ever had, her whole body feels jelly-boned, and Vi’s warm and solid and happy underneath her. She can’t help the thought that squeezes in before she can stop it that this doesn’t feel like just sex

Caitlyn shakes her head to clear it, anyway, and Vi makes a questioning noise at the movement that’s jostled her a bit. 

“Nothing, just…” but Caitlyn can’t voice her thought yet, it’s way too soon, so she says, instead, “are you hungry?” 

______

They’re showered, dressed in Caitlyn’s softest sweats, and on the couch with a pizza that’s half tomato and mushroom, half pepperoni about half an hour later. A reality show Vi had started watching to appease her sister, but had eventually started to actually enjoy is playing softly in the background. 

Caitlyn’s watching Vi watch the tv and eat her pizza with what looks like absolutely no regard for actually chewing it before cramming the next bite in her mouth, when she dabs at her own mouth delicately, clears her throat, and says,

“I, uhm. I’m free next Saturday after five. If you’d like to go to dinner?”

Vi looks up at her, significantly slowing the rate at which she’s devouring her half of the pizza, and stares at Caitlyn as she continues, “You don’t…of course you don’t have to want to go to a proper dinner, there’s no pressure, but I thought that maybe–” 

Vi cuts her off with a laugh and kiss that tastes a little like pepperoni and feels a lot like a promise, “It’s a date, Cupcake.”